Neville II

"Have you seen this?" Padma Patil yelled into his ear as she ran up behind him. He stumbled on the top step as he attempted his way up the stairs while both trying to turn around and see what Padma Patil was trying to thrust at him.

For the briefest of moments he thought he was going to catch himself, and not make an utter ass of himself in public. But that moment passed almost as soon as it started and he saw the ceiling spinning above his head. He dropped his books, his parchments of homework flying everywhere, as he spun toward the ground.

He flailed around, waving his arms in every direction in the vain hope that he'd be able to keep his feet. He knew it was futile, and that he should just resign himself to his fate. He could have sworn he heard laughing as he tumbled. He should have expected it. Afterall, why wouldn't you laugh at the falling fat kid?

He tried to catch himself with his hands, but all he managed to do was catch a sharp edge of the stone steps. He saw the flesh rip open on his wrist as all of his weight fell onto it. He felt it buckle and his body rolled away from the pain. Then, he felt a crack on his head and everything went black.

Neville blinked himself back into existence. He didn't know how much time must have passed. He half expected to find himself in the Hospital Wing. But instead he appeared to still be in the hallway.

The world was still spinning around him while he tried to regain his focus. The Patil twins were staring at him, confusion and concern evident in their eyes. He thought they might have been touching him. But that seemed like an odd sort of thought. As why would they be touching him?

It only took a minute for him to realize that it wasn't both Patil twins, but instead just Padma, as his constant blinking focused the two of them into one. But, rather happily, she was indeed touching him.

Although why there was blood on her hands seemed lost to him at the time. And it didn't help that the splitting pain in his head started to filter to the front of his thoughts. He groaned against it.

"Are you okay?" Padma asked.

"What?" he asked, wondering why she would ask him such a thing. There seemed to be no reason for it. He'd only tripped. He did that all the time. He was one of the clumsiest students in the school. It wasn't like people shot tripping hexes at him in their freetime like Professor Snape suggested. He just had trouble with his own feet.

"Are you okay? You fell and hit your head and snapped your wrist. It was scary," Padma said.

"I'm fine, I think," he said. He looked at her hands, which were holding his wrist gently, her thumb seeming to probe around his skin. "You're bleeding."

"What?" she asked.

"There's blood all over your hands," Neville said. He tried to nod toward her hands but his head just lolled a bit before resting back against the wall.

"It's yours," she said, blinking at him. "I think we should get you to the nurse."

"I'm fine," Neville said. He made no move to get up though. Because there was something appealing about Padma kneeling with him on the floor of the corridor. It probably said something about how pathetic he was that he wished to keep to that position for a long time.

"I'm not sure you look kind of awful," Padma said.

"Duh," Neville muttered under his breath. He always looked awful. He knew that. There was no need for her to point it out.

"And I'm not sure I fixed your wrist right," she continued, oblivious to his response. She held his hand in both of hers and was poking around against his skin with her thumbs. He couldn't tell what her purpose was. But she was touching him. So he wasn't quite sure if he should mention anything or not.

"It seems okay," he said. Well, aside from the fact that it hurt. But he saw no reason in telling her that. She stopped probing his hand but kept holding it. He peered around the hallway, half expecting that his tumble had drawn a crowd. But there wasn't anyone laughing at him. He wondered if the hallway had merely been less crowded than he'd assumed, or if Padma managed to scare them away.

"Daphne would have a better idea of how to fix it," Padma said. He wondered if that was true. Sure, her parents were both trained healers. But did that mean they taught their children how to mend bones? That was advanced magic. From what he remembered Hogwarts didn't consider teaching it until seventh year. And even then, the ministry preferred it to come more in healing training than in school. As it was quite easy to cause more harm than good. The incident with Harry's arm in his second year proved that. In hindsight, that should have been all the display they'd needed to know how much of a fraud Lockheart was.

Although, unlike the rest of his classmates, he felt rather sorry for the man. They didn't see him at least once a week during the summers, though. And at every lonely holiday gathering. He couldn't even bring himself to throw away all the autographs.

"I really think I should get you to the hospital," Padma continued.

"I'm fine," Neville said. He still had no interest in standing up. Part of him wanted to make a game out of it. How long could he manage to make Padma Patil sit with him on the cold floor of the castle? She must have had something better to do than wallow with Neville Longbottom.

"You're supposed to be in Defense, right?" she asked. Neville wasn't sure if that was the case. He was supposed to be somewhere, that much he knew. But exactly where he was supposed to go was beyond him.

"I think so," he said. Hoping it didn't make him sound any dumber than he felt. If such a thing was even possible.

"And you'd rather go deal with Umbridge than have a ready-made excuse to sit in the hospital wing?" Padma teased.

"I don't want to get bad grades," Neville said, dumbly.

"Is it possible to get bad grades in Defense?" Padma asked. The class was very little work, they all knew that, but still.

"I only ever get Acceptable," Neville said.

"Really?" Padma looked stunned. "What do you answer like a third of the questions?"

"All of them," Neville responded. "I copy the text book like everyone else."

"And you only get acceptables?" she asked. "It can't be your handwriting. Your character sheets are pristine."

"My grandmother always harped on legibility," Neville said with a slight flush. Early on in his Hogwarts career he'd received enough teasing about his girly handwriting, as others described it. That had faded away as the years bled on. Largely, he thought, because the older they got the less likely the Professors were to tolerate sloppy handwriting.

"Then how can you possibly only get Acceptables?" she asked.

"I assume it's house related. I think Hermione is the only Gryffindor who gets good grades," Neville said.

"Professor Umbridge isn't that obvious," Padma said. Neville looked away from her. He could feel the color rising to his face. He thought Professor Umbridge was exactly that obvious. But the thought of arguing with Padma seemed nonsensical.

She seemed to sense his hesitance and looked back down at his hand and hers. Then she looked away from him. After a moment of hesitation she dropped his hand and took a few moments to clean the blood off of hers.

"I should get to class," Neville said. He made it to his feet, the hallway only swaying slightly as he stood. It was enough, though, that Padma bolted straight up and slid next to him to steady him.

Despite her best efforts to steady him he was sure her presence had the opposite effect on him. He didn't think he'd been lightheaded, but as her flowery perfume filled his nostrils his head grew lighter. And her hand on his arm drew all his attention straight to her touch.

For a moment he thought he'd tumble again. But this time it would be infinitely worse. This time he'd fall on her. He'd crush her. And she'd never talk to him again. Because it would be so infinitely embarrassing he'd never be able to live it down.

But to his surprise, she steadied him and kept her feet as his world spun out of focus. She led him back down the stairs and, honestly, having Padma Patil hold his arm and lean against him as he moved made him feel far more like a prince than a fat, lonely pauper.

She got him to the Hospital without much fanfare. Although he thought a few of the people they passed were looking at him more than normal. He must have been far worse off than he thought, too, as he could have sworn that they looked almost jealous as Padma clung to him.

But that was stupid. No one, and he meant no one, in their right mind could ever be jealous of Neville Longbottom. That was an absurd thought. One that didn't warrant more than a few seconds of pondering. Still, he would have sworn glances followed them as they entered the Hospital Wing.

"What's wrong with Longbottom?" Madame Pomfrey, the nurse, asked almost as soon as they entered the room. He frowned. Why couldn't she have asked if something was wrong with Padma. Of course, just by looking at her one could tell that there wasn't anything that could possibly be wrong with Padma.

And, he figured, the nurse was a professional, and it wasn't too hard to tell just who was in trouble given he was leaning rather hard against her. But he couldn't help it. She was letting him. And being that close to her was intoxicating and made him want to stay closer to her for every single moment.

"He slipped on one of the steps and fell kind of awkwardly. He landed hard on his wrist and hit his head. I think I fixed the wrist but he seemed a little woozy regardless," Padma said.

"You know better than to try that yourself," Madame Pomfrey said. Padma blushed and looked away from the nurse as she led Neville to one of the beds.

"It feels fine," he said as he sat down.

"Let me see it," Pomfrey ordered. She held out her hand and Neville placed his wrist in her hand. She immediately started prodding around with her fingers, making all sorts of dissatisfied noises while Padma sat on the bed across from him and did everything in her power not to look at the nurse.

"It didn't seem too bad. He'd cut himself on one of the steps, too," Padma said.

"I can see that. You healed the cut just fine. But the wrist you should have left to me. Where was this so I can make sure the elves get it cleaned up properly," Pomfrey asked.

"Second floor hallway, near Professor Umbridge's classroom," Padma said.

"I assume that's where Longbottom is supposed to be?"

"Yes," Neville answered. As much as he didn't mind Padma answering for him, he figured he should at least attempt to be a participant in the conversation.

"I'll have a note sent to Professor Umbridge. How did you fall?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"I just slipped," Neville said.

"Did he?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, it was my fault," Padma said.

"Hardly," Neville felt the urge to defend her rise in him before she'd even finished the sentence.

"What happened exactly?" Pomfrey asked.

"I surprised him as he was walking up the stairs," Padma said. "I must have startled him a bit by running up behind him. I called out to him and he spun around and his foot slipped and he fell."

"Is that it?" Pomfrey asked.

"Sounds right," Neville admitted.

"So nothing nefarious? No older students around tossing out tripping hexes? Not some trick step charmed by the Weasley twins?" Pomfrey asked.

"Not that I noticed," Padma said.

"There weren't," Neville answered. As far as he knew the Weasley twins had never charmed a step to do that to someone. And, honestly, if they were going to, it would almost certainly be one of the ones leading to the dungeons rather than something taken by people of all the houses. Pomfrey looked between them for a moment before nodding.

"This is going to sting and you can thank Miss Patil for it," Pomfrey said. And then he felt his wrist snap. The pain was immense, far more than he would have called a sting. But almost before he could even gasp out a noise, he felt it all snap back into place. An instant later, it was numbed and he felt nothing.

"Ouch," he said after taking a deep breath. He shook out his wrist, more out of instinct than anything else. Then he moved all of his fingers, just to make sure they all worked. Everything seemed fine. But he'd thought that after Padma fixed it.

"There's ten bones in the wrist, Miss Patil. You fused half of them together. You fixed the break, as it were, but not in a way that would have done anything but cause more problems," Madame Pomfrey said. "Please, if a similar situation arises in the future, come straight to me."

"Yes ma'am," Padma said. She blushed and looked away from the nurse. Neville thought she looked rather aghast at her own actions. Which seemed stupid, as she'd tried her best and there were no real consequences.

"How's your head?" Pomfrey asked.

"I feel fine," Neville said.

"Watch my finger," she said, holding up one finger. "Follow it without moving your head." She moved it around and he followed it without any issue. She leaned closer to him and lit up the end of her wand, peering toward his eyes.

Neville found himself blinking away from the light. Which earned him a nod from Pomfrey.

"How is he?" Padma asked.

"Fine," Pomfrey said. She turned back to Neville and added. "If you feel any dizziness or nausea let me know. I'll get that excuse sent to Professor Umbridge now."

"Yes ma'am," Neville said as the nurse left the infirmary and moved toward her office. Neville watched her go and then turned toward Padma.

"Thanks," he said. She turned away from him.

"For what? Nearly having you kill yourself by being overeager?" she answered.

"I'm fine it was just a stupid accident," he said.

"And no one helped," she said quietly. "They all just kept going to class."

"Well, you know, it wasn't a big deal."

"They should have done something," Padma argued. Neville agreed with her. And not just because he liked the determined expression plastered all over her face. But he was used to people not helping him. He was used to not being noticed. He'd long since grown accustomed to being looked around rather than at. For people always looking for a way out whenever he was around. All if that was just a day in the life of Neville Longbottom.

But now Padma was shaking in fury about it. He wondered if that was out of the ordinary or if it perhaps said more about Padma than he knew.

That thought shouldn't have surprised him. If he was honest he knew next to nothing about her outside of their little group. And while she played a bit of a kooky character in their game, one that often got quite a few laughs or stares from the other players, outside of it she seemed more serious.

She was most often the one who would prod the others into conversation. Things were always a bit tense with Harry and the Slytherins. Although he thought that had changed during their Hogsmeade visit. He couldn't put a finger on it but Harry started to act more like, well, Harry, around them.

It was a side of his friend he didn't think enough people saw. Yes, he could appear dour, and a loner and like he wanted nothing to do with anyone. But once they got through that exterior, and honestly, Neville didn't think he himself got through it until the end of their first year when he'd confronted them, Harry changed.

He'd be far more open, and far more helpful, after one got through that barrier. But his approval was far easier to lose than gain. He didn't think Harry had spoken a word, at least unprompted, to Seamus since he called him a liar at the start of the year.

That was the dichotomy of Harry. Neville wondered if anyone else noticed it or thought about it. They had to. He was the unobservant one. They had to see it as well as he did. But no one ever really said anything about it. Not that he found himself privy to such conversations often.

If you talked to him, he'd still respond. But after you lost his approval, he would not look to you for anything. He seemed to have no qualms about people disappearing from his life this way. Neville, who always felt like he needed to fight for friendship with anyone, struggled with Harry's blase attitude toward people. But Harry always seemed more independent than he did.

He realized he'd let his mind wander for long enough and noticed Padma was still staring at him, as if expecting some sort of reply. He didn't know what to say. Not like that was any different than any other moment of his life. He never had any idea what to say. By now he was just used to it.

He took what he figured was the best option. He changed the subject.

"You never did show me whatever it was you wanted to show me," Neville said.

"Oh, right," Padma responded. She met his gaze for a moment then, to his surprise, seemed to blush as she looked toward her bag. He looked away when she did.

Of course this had the effect of turning his gaze toward her dangling legs as they bounced nervously against the side of the bed. Her uniform was in pristine condition. He wondered why his mind flashed right to that and not something more like, say, peeling the stockings off her legs. Not that she'd ever let him do that.

"It's this," she said, shoving a piece of paper into his lap. He stared down at it. The words jumbled for a moment but he blinked them back into focus. He wondered if it was something he should mention to the nurse about it but had the strangest feeling his daze was more about the back of Padma's hand brushing his thigh than anything else. He didn't need to do more than give a cursory glance at the paper to know it was another or Professor Umbridge's ridiculous 'Educational Decrees' that often had nothing to do with education. He read through it twice before shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm not on any school teams or in any school clubs," Neville said. Padma gave him a playful swat on the arm before speaking.

"Sure you are, you lead our club!" she said.

"I do?" he asked.

"What did you think we were?" she asked, giving him a bemused look and a half smile that made her look far too pretty for it to be wasted on him.

"Just some friends hanging out after class?" he asked. He stumbled over the word friends and wondered if she noticed. It didn't seem like much of a statement, but only two people in his little group would he have even thought of applying that term to just a few months ago.

"And what do you think clubs are?" she asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged.

"Groups of friends that hang out after class and do things," she answered, quoting him with the same smile on her face. Part of him wondered if he should be insulted. If there was some malice to her words. If she was putting him down, pointing out that he was stupid, or some such thing.

"Well yes, but it's not like Gobstones or something," he said.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I don't know," Neville answered.

"It's not like you'd turn away people if they came and asked to join," Padma said.

"I might," Neville answered. "But more because we're in the middle of a campaign and it would be hard to fit in."

"Fair enough but my point stands."

"I guess," Neville said.

"Anyway, you're going to have to get approval from Professor Umbridge. I'd hate it if we had to stop playing because of some stupid rule," she said. "I assume Harry's little defense group is dead in the water. There's no way she'll approve that."

"And probably not this if she knows I'm involved," Harry Potter said from the entrance to the infirmary. Padma turned to look at him and smiled. Neville rather preferred when her smile was directed at him but said nothing.

"She's not that awful," Padma said. "Her classes suck but..."

"She's that awful," Harry interrupted. His tone left no room for argument. Padma's bright smile turned into a sullen frown and he wanted to defend her. But he didn't have the heart to argue with Harry Potter.

And, frankly, as much as he valued Padma's opinion, he knew she was wrong. The Ravenclaws shared Defense with Hufflepuff; she did not have the luxury of seeing Umbridge in action during their classes.

Part of him liked to think she would have been braver than him. But it had only taken a few weeks of any sort of sound, any sort of dissension, being turned into a detention. And every little snide comment the Professor made in her sing-song voice that served as nothing more than a barbed insult or threat toward Harry Potter.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how Harry tolerated it. A lesser person, he knew, would have broken. But that was what Umbridge wanted. They all knew that. If he did something stupid, if he attacked her, which she was so clearly trying to provoke, she would win.

So Harry sat there, his mouth closed tightly, and stared at her. Every day his eyes grew colder. He wondered if Umbridge noticed the vitriol in his stare. Or if she even cared. She clearly thought herself immortal. And while he knew Harry would hold off as long as he could. He expected it would end poorly for her.

He couldn't have been the only one who'd noticed that three of the last four Defense teachers had been run out of the school after encounters with Harry Potter. Hell, two of them were dead.

He wondered if he should worry about the fact that Kaden, when he put them in combat, was far and away the most brutal of the group. He'd thought, based on their characters, that it would, far and away be Alisen. And she certainly didn't spare anyone. But if someone attacked them, even if Neville intended it to be non-fatal combat, Kaden eliminated them.

Arestes and Wyckham both argued about it. And, at first, Seralyse had been rather firmly on their side. But as their sessions moved on, the Kin girl seemed to relish the violence almost as much as Kaden.

But it was just a game, Neville knew. And if Harry needed an outlet for some frustrations, who was he to argue about it?

"How's he doing?" Ron asked as he entered the infirmary with Hermione. They walked over toward the bed. As they did, Padma shifted off the bed across from him and sat next to him. She must have done it so she could look at the new people entering the infirmary.

"He's good," Padma said.

"Why are you here?" Neville asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Harry laughed. "We heard Padma tried to kill you before Defense. Figured we should check on you."

"She didn't," Neville muttered.

"I wish I'd have thought about that. Can you push me down a flight of stairs before our next Defense class?" Ron asked, peering toward Harry.

"Ron! That isn't funny," Hermione scoffed.

"Sure," Harry answered.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded.

"What?" Harry asked. "We can push you too if you want. It's not a big deal."

"She didn't push me, I tripped," Neville said.

"Blink twice if you're still in danger," Ron said. Neville blinked a few times but was mostly just confused. Harry chuckled though.

"I didn't mean to try to kill him," Padma scoffed.

"So, manslaughter," Ron said.

"Oh shut up," Padma rolled her eyes. But she smiled. At Ron. For what Neville thought must have been the first time since the Yule Ball the previous year. And her eyes grew mischievous as the smile shifted into a smirk. At Ron. Neville hated it. He looked away from his friends and housemates.

"You're sure you're okay, Neville?" Hermione asked, pushing herself between them to approach Neville. She reached out to put her hand on his forehead, positioning herself as much between he and Padma as she could manage.

"I'm fine," Neville scoffed. "I probably didn't even need to come to the infirmary." He figured it was best not to mention the fact that he'd broken his wrist during the fall. What kind of idiot did that, anyway? He'd never heard of someone being that unlucky. He had to assume it had something to do with his weight.

He hadn't stepped on a scale. He couldn't bring himself to. He'd thought doing extra sets of stairs and walking around the lake a couple of times a day would help with that. He even made sure he was eating less, and had thrown out all of his Cauldron Cakes. But he was too much of a coward to check if it was having any effect.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Neville answered, doing his best to hide the annoyance in his voice. How many times did he have to say it? Did they all think he was so fragile that he had to be babied from a minor inconvenience?

"Forgive me for asking," Hermione scoffed. He wanted to apologize, knowing there wasn't a real reason to be so callous to her but Padma spoke first.

"You didn't need to ask three times," she said.

"I didn't," Hermione retorted.

"Did we come at a bad time?" Daphne spoke from the doorway. Dylan stood a few paces behind her, looking confused about the entire situation.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked, glaring at the athletic girl as she strode up to them. She stopped next to Harry and leaned toward him. If his friend noticed, he gave no sign of it.

"Came to see how my friend was doing. Sorry it took me a bit. I had to find Dylan and yell at Astoria. Family can be so obnoxious," Daphne joked.

"I wouldn't know," Harry said. Daphne winced against his words and looked away from him. She spent a moment taking her foot from her mouth before moving toward Neville.

"I'd ask how you are but I caught the tail end of that conversation and figure you'd rather not tell someone else you're fine. So instead I'd offer my Defense notes. Except for the fact that I got bored halfway through the reading and started doodling Seralyse instead," Daphne said.

"I think I'd like to see that more than the Defense notes. I can read the next chapter on my own just fine," Neville said.

"Next two. She added one on because she thought we were all being indolent. And probably to catch Harry and Ron off guard as they bolted from the classroom," Daphne said as she started to dig into her bag.

"I heard her," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest as if the fact that she might have willingly let Harry and Ron do the wrong homework was an absurdist folly.

"I did too," Harry said.

"Better ears than me," Ron added. Daphne fished out a notebook and started flipping through it. After a few moments she handed it to Neville. He peered down at the pages.

Most of the drawings were rather simplistic. Some of them weren't much more than stick figures. But even those had a pink tail and pink ears.

The more detailed ones always showed a sort of joy on the Kin girl's face. Even simplistic doodles got that across easily enough. She had a talent for it, he thought. Far more than he did. A few of them just seemed like simple character sketches. Nothing more than basic poses. There was one of her cowering behind Wyckham's shield, although it was hard to tell if she was hiding for defense, or just because it was a form of primitive shelter.

His favorite, though, was one of her on Kaden's shoulders. She'd managed to capture it in such a way that made it seem like she'd just pounced. His arms were reaching back to steady her as she pointed forward, spurring him onward like a general ordering troops into battle from her faithful steed.

"I like that one," Harry said before Neville could comment. Daphne blushed and looked over to him.

"You can have it if you like," she said.

"Really?"

"Sure. Here," she took the notebook right out of Neville's hands and tore out the page. She handed it to Harry without a second thought before Neville found the words to comment. He'd have liked more time looking at the drawings.

He wasn't sure what it was but something about the pictures filled him with an odd sense of pride. Like he had at least some minor part in their creation. He wanted to spend hours staring at them. He wondered if he could talk her into doing more.

"You think you'll be good for our game tonight?" Daphne asked. "We'd all get it if you wanted to take a night off."

"You can't possibly think you're going to be able to play that stupid dice game tonight," Hermione said.

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"Did none of you read her decree?"

"I did," Neville said. Hermione gave him an appreciative smile. He couldn't help himself, he smiled back at her. But it didn't spread through him the same way he'd felt when Padma had smiled at him.

Of course that could have just been because he was starting to feel oddly drowsy. He figured it wasn't much more than the excitement of the day catching up with him.

"We're not a school affiliated club," Daphne said pointedly. "Just a group of students hanging out."

"I seriously doubt Umbridge will make that distinction," Hermione scoffed. "Did you not hear her when class was ending?"

"Of course I did. I'm not deaf," Daphne shot back. "And it's not like we do anything remotely nefarious."

"You take those potions that half the ministry thinks are a sex aide!" Hermione argued. Neville frowned. He'd heard various things about the immersion potions but he doubted there was any truth to them. And honestly, it was less than fifty-fifty if they even used them. It was Daphne who snorted.

"Then they should get to experience phantom tail syndrome," she said. It drew a chuckle out of Dylan.

"What?" Hermione snapped, clearly not liking being interrupted.

"Foxy over here isn't a fan," Dylan answered.

"I always do a double take in the mirror the morning after. When I realize I'm not albino," Padma added.

"Really?" Neville asked, wondering if he shouldn't have pushed as hard as he had toward the potion usage. The rulebooks said it created a level of immersion for the players that led to more character based decisions. He'd always wanted them to do it at the start of sessions but he didn't think he pressed too hard when they refused.

"Yeah, it's weird," Ron said. Of course, Neville thought, his problem would have been the inverse of Padma's. But in the end it was essentially the same thing.

"I never had any issues," Harry shrugged.

"Me either," Dylan admitted.

"Then try to be something more amusing than a generic white boy," Padma scoffed.

"Maybe next time," Harry said.

"I don't see why we shouldn't just play tonight," Daphne said.

"Harry can't," Hermione scoffed.

"Why not?" Daphne spat right back.

"Because you don't have approval from Professor Umbridge," Hermione said.

"And I don't think we need it," Daphne said.

"If you didn't have Harry with you, I would agree," Hermione said.

"What do you mean?" Dylan asked from behind Hermione. It caught her off guard and she spun around to face him, before turning her attention back to Harry.

"She's looking for an excuse to put me in detention or expel me," Harry said.

"Why?" Dylan asked.

"Because Fudge is an idiot that refuses to believe that Lord Voldemort is back," Harry said. Everyone in the room, except for Hermione and to his own surprise, Neville, shivered at the name. Neville wondered when that happened on his own part.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with Umbridge?" Dylan asked.

"I told the truth. She and Fudge don't like that. Anything where they can make me look worse or have an excuse to get rid of me they'll jump on," Harry said. He sighed and shook his head. "So Hermione is right. At the very least, I can't play. The rest of you can probably get away with it tonight."

"We can just lie and say it's a study group," Daphne said.

"No. Because if she finds out it isn't, it's more ammunition that I'm a liar," Harry said. Daphne frowned.

"And it torpedoes our Defense club. I wish I knew how she got her information," Hermione frowned.

"I'm surprised you're not accusing us," Daphne said.

"I'd know if it was anyone who signed the parchment," Hermione said. Everyone in the infirmary was silent, letting the implication of that sink in.

"I have an idea around that," Harry said. All eyes shot to him.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I'll tell you later," Harry said.

"Your map?" Ron asked.

"Later," Harry reiterated.

"We're going to be late for Arithmancy," Hermione said with a pointed look toward Padma. The Ravenclaw checked her watch and sighed.

"You're right. We can talk more around dinner. I doubt she can ban eating while conversing," Padma said. She slid off of the bed and peered around the infirmary.

"Don't give her any ideas," Ron laughed. Padma smiled at him again. But after a moment she turned her attention back to Neville.

"Sorry for trying to kill you," she said with the same smile that made Neville's chest swell.

"It's fine," Neville muttered.

"Talk to you later," she said. And she leaned over toward him and placed one soft kiss on his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. Her flowery perfume filled his nostrils and he froze, all of his attention focused on the now incredibly warm part of his face.

He wasn't even suave enough to formulate a response. He just sat there as Padma and Hermione left. Neville saw Harry watch the girls leave. His eyes followed them out of the room before his gaze turned back to Neville. He raised his brows but said nothing. Neville blushed and looked away from his friend. The only response he saw was a small nod and a smirk from Harry.

But he didn't understand why his friend would have that reaction. It wasn't like girls didn't sometimes do that. It didn't mean anything and it was stupid to read anything more into it. It wasn't like she'd really kissed him. That would be absurd. They stood around the infirmary for a few moments before Pomfrey emerged.

The nurse did not seem the least bit surprised to see more students loitering there. And Neville suspected she'd eavesdropped on their entire conversation. Still, she made no mention of it as she turned her gaze to him.

"Anything change, Longbottom?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I feel fine."

The nurse peered at him for a moment before walking over toward a cabinet in the corner of the room. She waved her wand over it to open it and spent a moment rummaging around in it before she walked over toward him and handed him a small vial with a blue potion in it.

"Take that with your dinner. It may make you a bit groggy after a few hours. Get some sleep. If anything feels out of place in the morning come back to see me," the nurse said.

"Yes ma'am," Neville answered. Pomfrey looked around the group and then waved toward the exit.

"Now get out of here or I'll have to put you all to work," she ordered. They nodded and moved as a group toward the exit. Neville had to admit that walking out underneath his own power was far less entertaining than limping in hanging off of Padma.

He stayed a step or two behind as they left the infirmary. To his surprise, Harper fell into step with him, while Ron, Harry and Daphne walked in front. They didn't say anything as they walked through the corridors in the vague direction of the Great Hall.

Daphne walked rather close to Harry. He wondered if his friend noticed. Their hands dangled next to each other as they moved. They'd sway with each step and almost every time they crossed Neville was surprised that they didn't touch. Daphne peered over at him as Ron spoke, making a comment about the Defense homework. But Harry gave no indication that he noticed what the Slytherin girl was doing.

Dylan's eyes kept flashing between Harry and Daphne. His lips were pulled tightly back as he watched them move, but Neville couldn't quite place his expression.

When they reached the corridor outside the Great Hall they paused and circled around, out of the way of the passing students. Neville peered up at a painting of a couple of centaurs practicing archery on what appeared to be garden gnomes as Dylan stepped around him to stand next to Daphne.

He did not put himself between Harry and Daphne, as Neville thought he might. Instead he stood protectively by her and looked around the group.

"Dylan and I should do it," Daphne said.

"You do you," Ron shrugged, his mind obviously in the gutter. Dylan blushed and looked away while Daphne rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't be gross," she said. "I meant we should talk to Umbridge."

"That's not a half bad idea," Ron admitted. Neville thought his tone sounded a bit more begrudging than it should have been, like he thought he should have come up with it first.

"I don't think it will matter but I'm not going to stop you," Harry said.

"You think she's that out to get you?" Dylan asked. Daphne pressed her lips together. Harry's only real response was to shrug his shoulders.

"It's pretty bad, Dylan," Daphne said. "The stuff you hear in the common room isn't exaggerated all that much. She goads him constantly."

"I'm not sure how he hasn't snapped," Neville admitted. Harry peered between the two of them but again his only response was to shrug his shoulders.

"What if she just turns into a total wench toward us for the rest of the year?" Dylan asked.

"Then you put on your big girl pants and deal with it," Daphne responded. Dylan flushed red and looked away from her but nodded.

"I should go with," Neville said. "It was my thing after all. It would be weird if I wasn't there."

"If she even knows who organized it," Ron commented. Neville knew he had a point. But something about the two Slytherin students doing it for him felt wrong. It was his idea, he should be the one to fight for it. He wouldn't discourage them from coming with him. In fact, quite the opposite he'd welcome their support. But he should be there.

"Doesn't matter. I should be there," he said. It earned him a nod from Harry. A strange sense of pride filled him and he thought that he stood up straighter as he said it. Was it normal to have such a minor bit of approval have such an effect? What did it say about him that he couldn't answer that question? He didn't want to dwell on it any longer than necessary.

Although a small part of him was sad that Padma hadn't seen it.

"Actually even better idea," Harry said, his eyes narrowing and his mouth curving into a familiar smirk. The last time Neville had seen that expression on his friend's face was as Kaden laid out an ambush on a group of bandits who'd stolen one of Seralyse's costumes. And before that, probably when he donned his broom and steered it toward a dragon last year.

"Oh?" Ron asked, his own eyes lighting up as he clearly recognized the look as well.

"Let's go through the next chapter of Umbridge's homework so Neville has it done," Harry said as he turned toward one of the empty study rooms nearby. He didn't look to see if the group followed him. Neville had to wonder what it felt like to be able to just know people were listening to you and following you, without having done much of anything.

"What will that accomplish?" Harper asked as Harry pulled out the Defense text and tossed it down on the table. He dug out some spare parchment and a quill next. He offered the quill to Neville. He took it, feeling more confused about the entire situation.

"It's easy. Neville just has to go to Umbridge's office. Apologize for missing class and see if she'll accept the homework that was due today. With Pomfrey's note she should. Then he can say that he spent the time while Pomfrey made him stay in the infirmary going through the next chapter," Harry explained. He flipped to the chapter in question. Neville still wasn't sure where Harry was going with this. He'd planned on heading up to Professor Umbridge's office anyway to hand in the homework and ask about what he missed. But that was what was expected of students after missing any class.

To his relief, Ron looked as confused about it as he felt. Dylan was still spending more time peering between Harry and Daphne than anything else. Daphne, though, had started to smile.

"And he should ask for clarification on hex-zappers versus hex-breakers," Daphne said, pointing down to the text. "Specifically something along the lines of why anyone would bother with the second when the happy feeling generated by the first works just as effectively."

"That's stupid," Neville said. The quotes from the text flashed forward into his mind. "Hex-zappers are a fiction. Even the textbook doubts their validity."

"Yet we were to skip those paragraphs on tonight's homework," Ron added.

"And when it came up in class, their obvious efficacy was Umbridge's talking point," Daphne said. Harry nodded toward her as they started through the assignment that would be that evening's homework.

"So it will align with her views and hopefully make her more aligned to your cause when Dylan and Daphne barge in to her office and ask about the Conjurations and Catacombs groups," Harry said.

Neville saw his intention immediately. If he appeared to be a good student, agreeing with Professor Umbridge's opinion, it may put her in a better mood. And then she might overlook, or simply forget about, Harry Potter when two Slytherin students came into her office asking for a concession.

Still, a lot of it seemed to rest on his shoulders. And he wasn't sure if he was up for it. But if the thing that had finally earned him a group of actual friends at Hogwarts was threatened, he was going to at least go down swinging.

"Ah" Dylan said.

"Clever," Daphne added.

"Think it'll work?" Ron asked.

"No idea," Harry said with a shrug.

"Worth a shot," Dylan added.

"If it doesn't I'll write to dad," Daphne said.

"He'll just tell you to study more," Dylan chuckled. "What would he be able to do?"

"He's been the St. Mungo's liaison to the ministry before. Maybe he has some pull somewhere?" Daphne speculated. "Anyway. There's no reason for her to not approve it."

"If you insist," Ron said. They sat at the table and worked their way through the next chapter of Defense homework. It wasn't difficult, merely tedious, like always.

When they finished they moved as a group toward Professor Umbridge's office. The hallways were crowded with students milling about as the last classes of the day ended. A few of the club groups were already loitering outside of the office, no doubt waiting for their own confirmations of their clubs.

They queued up behind Angelina Johnson, who saw Harry and Ron and immediately started in on them about how this entire situation was obviously their fault and if it affected Quidditch they'd have hell to pay.

Ron couldn't bring himself to look at the team captain, but Harry didn't seem the least bit bothered by her tirade. Neville wanted to snap to his defense, but Harry's indifference made it seem pointless. He wondered if it had something to do with being accustomed to being coached. Or if Harry was just so used to people being hostile to him that he stopped caring.

Neville felt his stomach fall at that thought. What must have happened to Harry to get him to that point? Neville himself was used to being the butt of the joke, to being ridiculed, to people being hostile, and it still hurt him every time. Harry looked like he was more interested in what might be served for dinner than anything Angelina was tossing at him.

The queue moved rather quickly. Most of the people ducking out of the office were smiling. He recognized the Ravenclaw head of the Gobstones club skip away, followed mere minutes later by the Hufflepuff head of the magical painting club, and he figured Umbridge wasn't doing much to alienate the Hogwarts staples.

"Alright, you got this," Harry said as they grew closer to the door. "But I'm going to make myself scarce so she doesn't get any ideas."

Neville nodded his understanding, feeling a lump rise in his throat as his turn approached. Angelina turned back to glare at Harry. He could tell she was wondering why Harry seemed more interested in whatever Neville was doing than Quidditch. Harry ignored her as he left and Neville found himself wondering if maybe her comments had bothered him far more than he let on.

Fifteen minutes later, after some screaming that he figured couldn't possibly have helped his cause, an irate Angelina Johnson rushed out of Umbridge's office. He knew there wasn't a literal thundercloud following her with every step. But it felt damn close. Most of the crowd had left during the argument, obviously figuring their chances were better either after dinner or in the morning.

"Next," Umbridge's too sweet voice rang out. Neville took a deep breath but his feet didn't move. He stood there, frozen, until a soft hand patted him on the back. He turned and saw Daphne smiling. He swallowed hard and entered the room.

"Good evening Professor," he mumbled, wondering why his voice sounded so quiet and so strained in his own head.

"Ah, Longbottom," Umbridge said. She paused for a moment before continuing. "We missed you in class today."

"Yeah. Sorry. I… I slipped on the stairs," he admitted. Saying it aloud made him feel almost as dumb as doing it.

"I heard. Madame Pomfrey said a broken wrist and a concussion. How are you doing?" Somehow, her almost gleeful tone made her words feel more sinister than they were. He shrugged his shoulders and averted his gaze from her.

"I'm fine," he said. He reached into his pack and took out his homework. "I was hoping I could still hand this in."

"Yes let me see," she said as he handed it to her. She took out a quill and read through it quickly, her mouth moving as she silently read the words. It only took her a couple of minutes to get through the assignment. She scribbled an A on the top of it once she was done and handed it back to him.

"Thank you," he muttered, wondering why he was thanking her for a bad grade.

"Is there anything else?" she asked. He paused, the lump rising in his throat. He made to shake his head and flee but something else inside him spoke up.

"Yes," he said. Umbridge raised her brows and a smile cracked her toad-like face. He took a deep breath and blurted out the rest of his thought. "I did some reading while Madame Pomfrey kept me in the infirmary and I'm not really clear on why the breakers would ever be used over the zappers. The text didn't really get into it and it seemed counter-intuitive when the zappers work so well."

"Ah," she said, her expression faltering for a moment. But, to her credit, she recovered almost immediately. "That is a good question, Longbottom. Here I think Slinkhard's text is attempting to show how magic can evolve and the more violent ways can be transformed into easier, more appealing methods with time. Personally I would have omitted the breakers or flipped the order they were presented. But it is important to understand magic so as to understand when we should not wield it."

His inner voice snapped that if she thought that, she'd maybe try to actually teach them some magic. But he kept his mouth shut. He wasn't sure what else to do though. She'd answered his question in as good of a way as she was going to, and the only way he could think to continue the conversation would be to argue. And that wasn't going to help his cause.

"I see," he said. He paused for a moment then added. "Thank you, Professor."

"You're welcome Longb–," Umbridge started.

"Professor Umbridge," Daphne exclaimed as she rushed into the room, dragging Dylan by his sleeve. She paused for a moment and saw Neville. She gave him a slight glare before looking back at Umbridge. "Oh sorry I didn't realize you were busy."

"Not at all, Miss Greengrass," Umbridge said. "What can I do for you and Mister Harper?"

"We wanted to make sure our Conjurations and Catacombs group was allowed with your new policies," Daphne said.

"Hogwarts's new policies, Miss Greengrass. They're for the good of the school. Not for my own interests," Umbridge answered.

"Of course. Sorry," Daphne said. She demurred excellently, lowering her eyes to the ground in apparent submission.

"I'm also not sure the dice game has much of a place in Hogwarts, Miss Greengrass. It seems a bit like gambling to me," Umbridge said.

"What, how?" Dylan asked.

"Rolling dice and benefitting from the results?" Umbridge asked.

"But there's no wager," Daphne said. "It's not really much different than chess as a concept."

"I don't think so," Professor Umbridge said. "I don't see any value to it at all."

"It's great for relieving stress and," Daphne started, but she stumbled over her words. Neville, however, only heard the word value. It reverberated through his head. He knew they were going to lose. But he wasn't going to go down without a fight. Especially when she was implying there was nothing to be gained from the game that earned him friends. That this bitch thought it was worse than Gobstones of all things.

He wasn't even sure when his thoughts transitioned from in his head to aloud. Hopefully some point after the part where he cursed her. But he exploded in conversation. Value? It had tons of value. It was about thinking outside of the box, fostering teamwork, solving puzzles and all sorts of other things

It was about putting people into situations they wouldn't be familiar with and gauging reactions. It was about telling a story, of building a sense of community, of making people think about the consequences of their own words or actions. Of being better. It was about so much more than just rolling dice.

It was about communication, and understanding, and friendship and she would understand that if she knew more about it, or saw it, or played it. And it was so silly to judge without experience and…and….he let his voice trail off as he realized his outburst. He could feel tears in the corners of his eyes. He looked away and made to wipe them off of his face. He didn't want to be the fat kid who cried over a game. He fought the urge to sniffle as he looked away.

"You agree with his assessment, Miss Greengrass? Mister Harper?" Professor Umbridge asked.

"Yes," Daphne answered.

"Yep," Dylan added. Umbridge looked between the three of them and then shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't," she repeated. Neville felt his stomach fall. He sensed the impending doom of it all. He wondered if he'd ever be able to restart it later. Or if this was the last of it. And then she continued.

"However, I am not totally inflexible. And even I know it doesn't have the violent or hooligan-filled reputation of Quidditch. I will sit in the next time you play the game and make my decision then," Professor Umbridge said.

"Thanks Professor," Daphne smiled. Neville heard some other conversation then. Daphne told her when they played and she agreed to come the next week before dismissing them. He wasn't sure having to sit there while Umbridge analyzed their every move was as much of a win as the two Slytherin's thought, but he didn't want to argue with their enthusiasm as they made their way from Umbridge's office toward the Great Hall for dinner.

Harry and Padma were waiting for them outside of the hall. They both leaned against the wall and were chatting as their trio walked up to them. Again, Neville wasn't the biggest fan of the smiles Harry was drawing from the other girl. And he didn't like the playful way she swatted at him in response to something he said.

But her face changed when she saw him coming. Her eyes lightened and she pushed herself off the wall and rushed toward them. Harry followed a few steps behind.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Okay," Neville shrugged.

"She's going to sit in on our next session, but she didn't say no," Dylan said.

"Awesome," Padma answered.

"Oh joy," Harry said. "I should be sick that day."

"It'll be fine," Daphne said. "Just try not to imagine how Kaden would cut her throat."

"That will be very, very hard," Harry said.

"No it wouldn't. I'd give her an armor class of two, probably," Neville said. He blinked as he said it, not sure where the joke came from. But all of his companions laughed. Padma going as far as leaning against him for support as she giggled.

"Well good job," Harry said to Daphne. But she shook her head.

"It was all Neville. He talked her into it. He was amazing," Daphne said.

"Of course he was," Padma answered, as if there was any possible doubt.

"Never had a doubt," Harry said. While Neville knew, deep down, that couldn't be a true statement. He still felt a growing sense of pride at it. Harry clasped him on the shoulder as the entered the Great Hall and traveled to their separate tables.

He peered over at Padma as he sat down next to Ron. When she saw he was staring he felt the flush rise in his cheeks. But she didn't look annoyed or disgusted. She just smiled and went about her conversation with a fellow Ravenclaw.

He looked away as she did. Figuring he shouldn't be weird. This whole concept of a friend group was still new to him. He wasn't quite sure how to act. Just because Padma was nice to him didn't mean anything. They were friends.

Still, something felt different. He heard people complaining about Umbridge's rules and heard Ron laughing at them, saying they should just recruit Neville, as he'd found the way around it. People looked at him with awe in their eyes. He thought he must have been tomato red by the end of the meal.

After, as they made their way up to the common room, he still felt like he was the center of attention. No one seemed to look past him. No one seemed disgusted by his presence. Everything felt different, even if he couldn't exactly place why. As he went to bed that evening he realized he felt more secure, more at home at Hogwarts, than he ever had before.

Author's Note: As always thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate all of the support I receive. If you wish to support me further I am available on PAT RE ON at TE7wrties. There are ten additional chapters of this story there, as well as the conclusion of my other WIP, Cleansing the Sins.

Up next here we stay at Hogwarts for the next two chapters, shifting to Daphne, and then Harry. Thanks again for reading!