Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Masks of Real Heroes	By : Aelys_Althea Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 17755 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Many thanks to the wonderful J. K. Rowling who offered such a beautiful world for amateurs such as myself to frolick in. This is a not-for-profit fanfiction and all characters and original storylines of Harry Potter belong to her!

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Just a heads up, I'm not entirely happy with how this chapter turned out. For some reason, it just dug its heels in when I was writing it, so my apologies if it's a little stilted.

A little bit of angst in this chapter - though I feel it's quite warranted - but I'm making up for it with a splash of bromance and some weird and wonderful creatures.

Also, I've got a little bit on my interpretation of magic once again. If you don't like it, then sorry but that's just how the story goes :)

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7: What Makes a Friend
'It's the same basic principal as first year levitation charms. Just reassess your consideration from the subject and redirect the magic internally as opposed to externally. It's really quite logical, Draco.'
'Logical? I hardly see how you can claim that spontaneously lifting oneself off the ground is in any way 'logical' Granger. And, unlike you, Charms logic doesn't come naturally to me.'
Harry dropped his chin further, channeling his attention onto the Transfiguration essay before him as he hid his amusement. There was something akin to friendliness beneath the exasperation and irritation that the Gryffindor and Slytherin expressed respectively. Not only that, but the very fact that Hermione was offering assistance, and even more astoundingly that Draco was comfortable enough to admit his academic struggles, spoke miles of the progression in their relationship.
The study sessions had been ongoing for weeks now. Not only had their schedule become habitual but after the very first meeting they had only grown in frequency until they met under the pretense of 'studying' at least once a day. Well, Hermione, Draco and Harry did. The rest of their odd little group joined them sporadically.
The initial session had been awkward. The ease of their first evening at the dining table appeared to have been eradicated with the rising sun, and the pseudo-lesson had progressed as little more than two distinct study groups of separate houses with Harry as their sole common ground. Harry couldn't deny that it had been beneficial, however, with the assistance of both Hermione and Draco in particular. Surprisingly, despite its awkwardness, both Gryffindors and Slytherins had been rather tame. After the first argument sparked between Ron and Pansy, and Hermione determinedly dispelled it with the threat of ejecting them from their group, they were even rather cooperative. Departure saw Slytherins and Gryffindors even more firmly set upon forcing an amicable interaction.
The following meetings had developed just that. Whether it was through necessity to create a workable environment or actual affection towards one another, the awkwardness had died to wary companionability and finally easy camaraderie. By the second week, schedules for an increase in sessions had already been proposed by the eternally-organised Hermione, and by the fourth week of every day catch-ups, their familiarity had evolved into easy conversation and a surprising drop of surnames in place of informal addresses. Well, mostly. Frequent bouts of irritation still dredged up the scathing remarks and drawling formal referencing.
Despite the unavoidable upheavals, Harry found himself surprised by how easily he was fitting into the enforced meetings. It seemed to have slipped everyone's minds to actually ask him whether he wanted them to go the 'extra mile' and attempt civility for the benefit of their study group, but he found that it didn't really worry him. If anything, he noticed that their presence begun to elicit a steadily growing warmth throughout him, an odd affection and gratitude. That in itself was startling. Harry had never been one to interact with others, often finding close working environments at school to be exhausting and more than a little unnerving.
The Hogwarts students seemed to force such discomfort from him somehow. Perhaps it was their overprotective approach that, no matter how they each attempted to hide it, still managed to make itself blatantly obvious. Each expressed it in their own way; Draco with his ever present companionship and startling coldness towards advances upon Harry's privacy, Pansy and her oh-so-uncharacteristic and at times sickly sweet compassion, and Blaise's ever-present humour to lighten the often oppressive mood. Hermione did not even attempt to conceal her motherly affection, while Neville seemed to be barely restraining a proactive defensiveness of all that appeared threatening. Only Ron failed to display an overt concern, but even so still managed to assist in creating a comfortable environment for their steadily growing friendship, his constant joviality and sarcastic input oddly calming.
If he didn't feel quite so comfortable with it, Harry would have been astounded, unnerved and perhaps even a little deterred with their attention. He still could not fathom their interest in him – there was simply nothing about his character that could possibly induce the welcoming attitude of his fellows – but with their continued attention he found that he came to enjoy it more and more. Perhaps, on a subconscious level, he had desired as much from the moment he begun at the school. Maybe even beforehand.
The initially uncomfortable atmosphere of their study sessions soon slipped into comforting ease. The speed of such a progression was nothing if not relieving. Honestly, any further strain and awkwardness would have been a little too much for Harry at this point. No matter how much he attempted to move past the incident in the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, the darkness of the assault of memories, so strong and so overpowering, had left him a little shattered. Only years of experience in maintaining his expressionless façade had enabled him to face his small entourage of protectors without breaking down at every whisper of words, every unnecessary touch and questioning gaze.
A thick mass had settled in his chest that no amount of compulsive picking of his collarbones could alleviate. Always before the nervous raking of fingernails had served to temporarily relieve some of the stress and thrust the foreboding more deeply under a pillow of repression. Such relief lasted briefly, however, and the darkness always seemed to rear back up in no time. It was almost enough to drag him into a despairing depression, back into a catatonic state, the memories of the past threatening to overwhelm him. The onslaught, the reawakening of memories, was too raw.
More than that, Harry found that the idea of magic was, at times, horrifyingly repelling. Each instance a wand rose and flickered with the spark of magic he would struggle not to flinch at the memory of the assault such magic had inflicted. Seeing his peers using wands left him with a queasy feeling in his gut, and he could hardly even contemplate using one now. Though he knew it was irrational, that it was the magic, not the wand, that produced the desired outcomes, he couldn't seem to see that slim rod of enchanted wood as anything but a weapon. His own wand now lay wrapped in layers of t-shirts at the bottom of his school trunk, not even accompanying him to classes anymore.
Harry knew that those around him weren't oblivious to his dilemma, though his classmates at least appeared content to overlook the oddity. McGonagall, on the other hand, was not so accommodating. Harry knew what she was doing; it was painfully obvious that the nightly requests to see her to 'discuss anything, anything at all' were an attempt to gauge his mental stability. He'd had something of a similar experience before, with a counsellor in middle school, but that had fizzled out with his own lack of participation. And despite her persistence, McGonagall's attempts similarly died, though she still looked at him worriedly from time to time when she thought he didn't notice. Of course he did. Years of 'subtle' teachers glancing at him sideways forced him to develop something of a sixth sense for that sort of thing.
He didn't speak to McGonagall – or anyone for that matter – about his thoughts, about what had happened, though he knew curiosity plagued them from their glances. Nor did he discuss his worries that his latest block with magic would compromise his studies. And they likely would have, if not for his newfound friends.
The block, as it turned, out was so temporary as to be fleeting. Though he still could not quite bring himself to use a wand, it had taken remarkably little time for his capability to conduct magic to arise once more. Harry attributed the fact to Hermione's enthusiasm with teaching; she really was quite good, if only for her persistence. The additional assistance of the other Gryffindors and Slytherins patched up any potential holes that spouted in her otherwise immaculate methods.
Yet even had they not assisted in his magical studies, the mere presence of his new friends would have been priceless. Their enforced companionship, the threat that they would very likely seek him out if he remained staring listlessly at the ceiling in Featherwood's rooms was a big part of what urged him from his lethargic melancholy in the mornings, was the only thing that kept him from fixating in his seclusion at night. Still, he hardly slept; something about the experience of being the tail end of a curse, of what it provoked, made living in the aftermath of it rather…difficult.
As it was, initially he had struggled to maintain the carefree mask. He knew he hadn't quite succeeded in concealing how shaken he was from his peers all the time. Yet though they had all abruptly intensified their protectiveness, he didn't think that most of his surrounding group of classmates fully realised how much he had been unhinged. Except for maybe Draco; he seemed to look at him slightly differently. Not only that, but his hardness, the impression of distance and coldness that he had previously maintained even when it became evident he was aware of its redundancy, had been suddenly dropped. The young Slytherin was even…kind.
'…anything like your attempts at a Withdrawal Potion recitation, Granger, I can assure you that your simplifications are anything but succinct.'

Well, Draco was kind to Harry, at least.
Hermione sighed in exasperation, overlooking the dig even though Ron mumbled a half-hearted objection from her right. 'Fine, Draco, if you don't think my methods of explaining are up to scratch, ask Harry. He was able to get it in our first lesson, too, and he understands it very differently to me.'
As one, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Ron and Neville all turned towards Harry expectantly. Blaise, head bowed over his own half-finished Transfiguration essay, failed to join them but Harry suspected it was only because he was half asleep.
Harry didn't quite flinch under the full-blown focus; he had gotten over the overwhelming unease that had resurfaced with a vengeance whenever he became the centre of attention. Another by-product of the memory-inducing spell that he was overcoming. Still, it was nonetheless uncomfortable.
Placing down his pen – he still could not fathom, nor take to, the use of a quill – Harry cocked his head in consideration. 'Well, I guess I don't really think of it as a levitation charm. That's how I-'
'How is it anything but a levitation charm? Raising yourself a couple of feet off the ground doesn't seem like the next best thing to flying to you?'

Hermione swatted Ron on the shoulder with a scowl, though Ron's clearly innocent expression showed that the statement had not been made with condescending intent.
Harry shrugged, taking up his pen once more and idly dotting a period more firmly. 'Yeah, I suppose, but…well, the first time I did it, it was almost like my magic was taking on the propulsion that I was unconsciously building up to help me to levitate.' He silenced, cocking his head as he struggled to put his own comprehension into words. 'It's like I took the idea that I could…push myself upwards, and used that to initiate the spell.'
'Like propulsion… and suspension?' Draco narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, tapping his chin with a long finger. Harry wasn't particularly surprised that the Slytherin seemed to be grasping the concept in a similar way to how he saw it. Initially, he had been startled with the knowledge that Draco often perceived things as he did, especially given their differing backgrounds that would in all likelihood have suggested very different approaches.
'I don't get it.' Ron shook his head, a bewildered Neville nodding in agreement.
'Well, I guess the first time it felt like the easiest approach to boost yourself into the air would be a jump, and then to simply suspend when actually there. Freezing things in place isn't particularly difficult for me to wrap my head around, even if they are hanging in mid-air, so that was about how I did it.'
'What, you jumped? I didn't see you jump.' Even Pansy seemed intrigued now. It hadn't escaped Harry's notice that the girl had also struggled with the charm.
'No, I didn't jump, I just… I think it was more the mindset. I can't really conceive that an inanimate object would move entirely of its own accord so, um… Sorry, I don't think it really makes sense…'
'No, I think I understand.' Draco nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his chin. 'Thanks, Harry.'
Another point – Draco never failed to express his appreciation for assistance from Harry. He made up for it, though, by overlooking the aid of the Gryffindors at almost every opportunity.
Ron flickered his gaze between Draco and Harry, confusion written across his face. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'
'Well, it's a good thing that you can already float yourself, then, isn't it Ron?' The exasperation was definitely firmly back in place in Hermione's voice. She barely spared him a moment before turning her attention towards Harry. 'See? I told you you'd help. You are good at spells, you just don't realise it and lack the confidence.'
Harry shook his head, not even bothering to reinitiate the conversation they had broached more times than he could count. Hermione maintained he was something of a magical prodigy, but conveniently overlooked the fact that his success was riddled with more holes than a sponge.
Much like his struggles with casting offensive spells, Harry had come to the realisation that perhaps his more extensive Muggle education had a more significant influence upon his abilities as a wizard than anticipated. Aside from his apparent inability to cast when he couldn't perceive the possibility of ever using the spell, it appeared that, if he could not scientifically ground the phenomenon, even when forcing himself to believe the improbable, omniscient qualities of magic, he ultimately failed.
So, as a result, levitation was possible. Assisting himself to 'levitate' a half-dozen feet off the ground was possible. Even shifting a solid object into aqueous form was possible, for, realistically, it truly was possible. Changing a mouse into a matchbox? It bordered on the improbable, but even so he had managed to eventually grasp how the conversion could be made. But transferring it back? Entirely impossible. Non-living material could not once again become living. It was simply entirely inconceivable.
He had encountered similar hurdles with conjuring. How could one make something from nothing? Summoning, that was possible, but apparent conjugation? Even thinking about it baffled him and caused his head to ache slightly. And that was to say nothing of his difficulties surrounding the conversion of mass; more often than not his transfigured objects were unnecessarily heavy or comically light for their size. It would have been frustrating if Harry hadn't found it so logical.
When attempting to explain as much to his ring of protectors, to ask exactly how such magical feats he deemed unfathomable were in fact possible, even the ever-rational Hermione had simply replied 'well, because it's magic'. How such a response seemed justifiable was beyond him, yet even Hermione, Muggleborn and as such relatively new to magic, appeared able to overcome the barrier he faced. Harry suspected it had more to do with the majority of her teenage years being influenced by said impossibilities than any deficiencies on her part. She didn't seem at all worried by the lack of justification in her claim, though Harry had seen her blushing her embarrassment at an inability to validate far less. That very phrase, the absolute faith in this thing called 'magic', had been repeated already, barely an hour before, and had contributed to Harry's sigh and slip into silence, remaining determinedly neutral in the face of the Gryffindor girl's attempts at explaining a concept which in no way made sense.
Catching a glimpse of the fading light outside the window, Harry wiped his finger across the table and cast a Tempus Charm that briefly embedded its figures into the table-top. A time charm, now that was handy. And surprisingly paradoxical, given that he supposed it was a little like conjuring, but resolutely ignored the fact. Sometimes his subconsciousness allowed for the fact and he wasn't going to dispute it. That he was only able to produce the charm when it was impressed into a solid object probably had something to do with it.
Rolling up his parchment into a scroll – really, it was so much more practical using a pen than quill and ink, given that Hermione was still blowing on the finishing lines of her own paper – Harry set about packing away for the next class. The break they all shared on Friday after lunch had been a pleasantly surprising discovery, and though Ron complained of them spending all of their free time studying, he still joined them for their group time. He rarely studied, however, and Neville frequently joined him in his study-less state.
Catching a glimpse of Harry's motion, Draco set down his own quill. 'Is it that time already?' He cast his own Tempus Charm, airborne in glowing digits, before proceeding to pack his bag, nudging Blaise awake at his side. The Italian youth snorted rather loudly, eliciting a snicker from Pansy, before rubbing his eyes and lazily sliding his own books into his bag.
'You've got Magical Creatures now, haven't you, Harry?'
Harry turned to the blonde, who spoke seemingly offhandedly in a question of curiosity, but Harry knew for a fact that the taller boy had his timetable memorised. A fact that would have left Draco mortified if he knew that Harry, or anyone else for that matter, was aware of it.
Harry simply nodded. 'Ancient Runes?'
'Yeah, and we're finally starting on independent construction today. It's so exciting!' Hermione's enthusiasm brought smiles to all of their faces – well, the Slytherin's didn't exactly smile, but their faces notably softened. It was a significant step from the sneers they would have offered barely a month beforehand.
'Calm down, Hermione, it's a theoretical lecture today. We won't even touch on practical application for weeks.' Draco spoke with deliberate slowness, as though to a child, but the widening of Hermione's grin bespoke the recognition of the use of her first name. Even after frequent usage of informal address, Hermione seemed to view it as a personal triumph every time one of the Slytherins addressed her with such familiarity.
'Still, I'm excited! And don't tell me you aren't, Draco, or I'll call you out for a liar.'
Draco smirked once more towards Harry, who managed a small smile in return. Sadly, he noticed that it slipped almost immediately off his own face when Neville sidled up to him. It wasn't voluntary; for some reason, Harry could only really bring an intentional smile to his face for Draco. Maybe he let him see under his mask because Draco afforded him the same leniency?
'You ready to go, Harry?' Neville offered his own grin, hitching his satchel further up his shoulder. Harry nodded, following Draco's already retreating back towards the exit. Alongside Pansy, the blonde led the way from the library.
Blaise loosed a yawn as he wandered alongside Ron, Neville and Harry. 'I am so glad that I have a free on Friday afternoon. I pity you poor souls who have to finish your week working.'
'Here, here.' Ron agreed with his own contagious yawn, face relaxed in the knowledge of his liberty. 'I'm dedicating this afternoon to 'study free time'. Sixth year workload is something else, I tell you.'
Blaise quirked a smile at the red-head before shaking his head. For all his apparent laziness, the Italian boy proved himself to be rather studious. Something Ron, for all that he managed fairly well in his classes, evidently lacked. 'Well then, if you have nothing planned, Ron, I believe a rematch is in order.'
Ron flashed a wicked grin. 'Are you sure you're prepared for that?'
'Are you sure you are prepared?'
As though racing one another, the two abruptly departed the small party, turning back towards to marble chessboards at the back of the library. Their eagerness left them barely offering a farewell to their friends, or 'acquaintances' as the Slytherin's still maintained, before disappearing.
'Where are they going?' Hermione asked, turning from where she had stopped at the library doors. She adopted a frown of exasperation as comprehension dawned. 'Again?'
Neville shrugged. 'They're pretty evenly matched, actually. And they're both ridiculously competitive so…'
Draco sighed. 'I can't really complain; it distracts Blaise from pestering me for a match that he knows he'll win. I refuse to offer him any more leprechaun gold to bet with, however.'
'Ron's been winning leprechaun gold?'
'Hermione, think for a moment about who you are speaking of.' The statement effectively ended that train of thought. 'Anyway, we have to go or we'll be late. See you at dinner, Harry.'
Harry nodded obediently under Draco's pointed stare, feeling remarkably like a child abiding their parent. It was enough to receive his own nod of satisfaction, before the blonde turned and led Pansy and Hermione further into the castle. Hermione had grown surprisingly comfortable with the two Slytherins, and immediately begun her excited spiel once more, to which Draco ignored and Pansy faced with a mixture of amusement and something like fear. It gave him a warm feeling, to so behold his new friends in such an amicable light. Especially, for some reason, Pansy; despite their rocky start, she had been one of the most determined to assist Harry in his studies. Or, well, not assist in studying so much as ensure that he was about as comfortable as humanly possible in the process.
It was strange, how different the girl had become after the incident. For whatever reason – though Draco had, at one point, seriously discussed with him that he had every right to be angry, even to hate her – he couldn't seem to dredge up anything but surprise when confronted with Pansy's change of heart. Logically, he knew he should be upset with her, even scared of her, but it just seemed unfathomable to see the girl in a negative light with her abrupt turnabout. Far from the confident, blasé character he had been previously wary of, Pansy had trouble addressing him at first. She looked on the verge of crying each time he spoke back to her, an unexpected development to say the least. After a time, however, she had grown more confident in their interactions and appeared to have assumed to take on a maternal role similar to that of Hermione, though with markedly less studiousness.
Watching as the unlikely trio disappeared into the depths of the castle, Harry pondered that he had come to maybe even like Pansy a little before a word from Neville had them heading towards the entrance hall. They walked in comfortable silence; it was one thing that Harry enjoyed about Neville's company. Despite his seeming need to talk when around Ron, Neville was surprisingly quiet when out of the red-head's company. Well, at times anyway. Sometimes he seemed to feel the need to converse, a chain of communication that largely consisted of Harry listening to his chatter, but even that was oddly calming.
The sun was sprawled lazily in mid-descent, barely sitting above the bristled leaves of the taller trees of the Forbidden Forest. It was remarkable how quickly the days shortened as winter proceeded to heave its chilly breath across the school. It wasn't snowing yet, thankfully, but it couldn't be far off. Frost coated the windows every morning. Harry personally held hopes for a late winter; he wasn't partial to the cold.
Their silent march down towards Hagrid's hut, the universal meeting point of Magical Creatures students, was abruptly broken with the presence of the returning fifth year students. Nods of acknowledgement greeted the pair, but it was two figures in particular that actually broke from the throng, conducting an about turn to walk with them back in the direction they had come.
Neville smiled at his two friends. 'Ginny, Luna. How are you?'
Both girls smiled with varying degrees of enthusiasm, the former distinctly wider. 'Pretty grand, actually. We've finally finished our last lesson on thestrals today.'
'Oh, don't say it like that, Ginny. Thestral's are fascinating creatures. I think it was one of my favourite creatures we've studied, actually.'
Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend's words. 'Yeah, you would. It probably helps if you can actually see what it is you are supposed to be observing, though.'
Luna merely smiled.
Harry and Neville were silent as they continued towards their lesson, content to listen to the girls chatter. Harry had not had much to do with Ginny – the extent included several study sessions that the girl had been curious enough to take a peek at before quickly retreating – but somehow he found himself in Luna's company more often than he thought purely coincidental.
The blonde girl was a curiosity. Oddly perceptive, she was also at times remarkably blunt. It didn't make a particularly favourable initial impression. However, though Harry at times still felt wary around the younger girl, her eyes at times too knowing for his general comfort, he found her both intriguing and somehow easy to get along with. She held absolutely no judgement towards her fellow students, and though her attitude towards life did seem to run along a decidedly different pair of train tracks to those around her, it by no means meant she wasn't heading in the same direction. She just seemed to take the scenic route while everyone else cut directly to their destinations.
As it were, Harry saw Luna as being somewhat distinctly different to the other young witches and wizards at the school. Luna felt the same way about him – she had told him so, in fact, in very definite terms – and as a result the two had developed a strange sort of friendship. The camaraderie of outsiders, as it were.
'…feeling of something that you can't see licking your fingers is just…urgh!' Ginny shuddered, shaking her hands as though to rid herself of the feeling. 'Harry, you are so lucky that you never had to take those lessons.'
Harry turned towards the youngest Weasley, quirking an eyebrow. 'You can't see them?'
Ginny shook her head. 'No. Not that I'm complaining, given what that means, you know…' The girl dropped her head in a respectful sadness, though it quickly morphed into a frown as she shifted her gaze back towards Harry. 'You can?'
Neville and Luna similarly turned towards Harry in curiosity; Luna knowingly and Neville…not knowing. Harry inclined his head. 'I spent about a week at school before term started. Professor McGonagall thought it would help with transitioning. I spent some time with Hagrid.'
The question was evidently begging to be asked by all three, but only Luna showed the confidence, or perhaps the lack of inhibitions, to prompt him. 'Who did you see die?'
'Luna!' Both Ginny and Neville appeared guiltily mortified at her question. Harry couldn't really see why. He supposed that most people would see it as intrusive and tactless, but it didn't really offend him.
'Just before I was eleven, one of my neighbours who used to take care of me sometimes, Mrs. Figg. She had a heart attack.' A twinge of sadness settled in the back of Harry's throat. He had not particularly liked the woman; she was far too eccentric for that, with her overall twitchiness, her strange obsessions and the permanent odour of cat urine that clung to her like a pungent perfume. But she had been kind. In hindsight, his fondness for the woman was likely simply hidden by his unfamiliarity with the feeling. No one had ever really been close enough to show him kindness on such an intimate level, none save the Dursleys and they adamantly refused to even attempt to afford him as much.
Ginny and Neville adopted mirroring expressions of awkwardness, Ginny chewing her bottom lips as though searching for words while Neville tugged at his fringe. The other boy did that sometimes, seemingly unconsciously, but Harry noticed such ministrations always seemed to be when he experienced unease and never failed to cover up the oddly shaped scar adorning his forehead. Luna seemed perfectly comfortable with the explanation. She offered a smile of sympathy, nodding her commiserations, before stepping from Ginny's side to walk alongside Harry's instead. It was hardly an overt display of compassion, but it was certainly adequate for Harry. It surprised him when he felt a small smile settle on his lips that Luna returned just as mutely.
'Um… I'm really sorry for asking that, Harry.' From her tone, it was apparent that Ginny felt she was apologising on Luna's behalf as well as her own. She kept her eyes resolutely on the path as they made their way down the hill towards Hagrid's hut. 'That must have been horrible.'
Harry shrugged in reply, accepting the apology. 'It's fine. It was a long time ago. There was nothing anyone could have done for her anyway.'
Neville's and Ginny's awkwardness threatened to turn the atmosphere positively uncomfortable, but Luna, in her breezy way, broke the ice. 'Harry, that's your cat, isn't it?'
Harry didn't need to look behind him to know Luna's assumption was correct. Lyssy was never far behind, and he would have suspected it was her even had he not noticed her slipping from the castle behind him. 'Yeah, she follows me just about everywhere.'
Luna stopped momentarily, taking a few steps backward and scooping the near-invisible shadow of black fur off the ground. 'Hello, Lyssy. It's a pleasure to see you again.' Harry smiled, at the pair, indulging Lyssy's contented purr. He always found it a little amusing that the girl spoke to the little cat as though she could reply. Amusing, yet warming, as he often found himself doing the same.
'I can't believe you have a familiar before you're seventeen. I'm a little jealous, I have to admit.' Ginny sighed longingly, but flashed a smile to remove any sting from her words. 'And such a cute one at that.' And as though magnetised, the redhead gravitated towards the cat lounging in Luna's arms, stroking fondly across her ears. Lyssy positively thrummed with bliss.
Neville watched the girls cooing over the little creature with fond amusement. 'I always wanted a familiar too. Don't know why, it just appeals to me for some reason. That subconscious link and all, with someone that trusts you entirely…' He trailed off, eyes turning to Harry and flushing slightly in embarrassment. As such, he missed the intense glance Ginny sent his way. Harry didn't have to think hard to discern the meaning behind her glance. He barely knew the girl and her crush was blatantly apparent. Poor Neville, lost in his blissful ignorance.
Harry shrugged. 'It's not like I feel any sort of physical connection, exactly. Just… I don't know, I'm calmer when she's around.' In response to his words, the little cat stretched herself, kneading briefly at Luna's arms before dexterously leaping the impressive distance towards Harry and nimbly landed on his shoulder. The three onlookers smiled with a mixture of amusement, envy and adoration. Lyssy often induced such responses; people just seemed drawn to her for some reason.
Neville took his own turn at petting the cat's head. 'Still, I didn't know familiars were quite so…clingy. I swear, she's around you nearly every second of the day. She's like a shadow.'
'No, she is with me every second of the day. When it seems she isn't she's usually just hiding.' Neville stared blankly at Harry for a moment, confused, before smiling as he realised the joke for what it was. 'Actually, that's what made Draco think she was my familiar. That, and apparently she sort of looks like me.'
Loosing a burst of laughter, Neville grinned broadly. 'That's what I said! She really does! You know what they say about owners looking like their pets?' The laughter continued, Luna twittering with a dreamy smile and Ginny chortling. Harry felt his face soften at their amusement.
By the time they reached Hagrid's hut, nearly the entire class had assembled, the final student arriving merely moments after Harry and Neville. Lyssy dropped to the ground upon arrival, disappearing before anyone could notice. Not that it would have mattered, really; she was a commonly seen appendage of Harry's.
It was a remarkably small class, only five in total, making the presence of the two fifth year girls more noticeable. Neville's quick query of said girls determined that, yes, they had decided to skive off their History of Magic class in favour of 'seeing a hippocampus for the first time!' as Luna exclaimed with a clap of her hands. Professor Binns rarely took attendance, and so they had little fear of being routed out. Well, except by Hagrid, but upon the half-giant's appearance, the fond smile upon the two quickly allayed any doubts that may have surfaced as to their inclusion.
'Ginny, Luna. Doin' alrigh'?. Come to see the hippocampus, have yeh?'
The girls nodding in unison. 'Luna said she asked you if it was okay.'
'O' course. So long as yeh have permission from whichever teacher is takin' the class yeh'll be missin'.'
With fool-proof confidence, both girls nodded their assent. Harry had to admire the infallibility of their composure, even if the thought of missing a single class made him feel a little ill. His own magical education was so patchy that every second counted; he couldn't imagine skipping a lesson, even one as dry as Professor Binns'. The ghost was old and spoke in a lulling, monotonous tone, but some of what he said was actually quite interesting. Some.
'Righ', well that's settled. Now, today we're goin' to be headin' down to the lake, take a look at the colony we've got down there. I've spoken to the mermaid chef – well, the Headmaster spoke to him – so they should be not too far from the shores. We've got some squid here, deep fried as that's how they like 'em best, so should be able to have a good, close look at 'em.' With a nudge of his booted feet, Hagrid pushed a lidless bucket forward and wafted the aroma of calamari towards the students.
'Now, hippocampus are very nervy creatures, flighty but not dangerous at all. Can't be makin' any sudden movement else they'll scare off in a heartbeat. Yeh make the first move, then let 'em come to yeh, just like most every magical creature. Give 'em a treat, and they'll like as not let yeh pet 'em, if yer close enough.'
Clapping his enormous hands in booming satisfaction, Hagrid beamed at his sixth years. The class nodded their understanding and everyone stepped forwards to each scoop up an admittedly heavy bucket of deep fried squid. The smell was a little sickening to Harry, but elicited a growl from Neville's belly that had the rest of the class laughing.
'I can't believe we actually get to see real, live hippocampus! No one ever sees them, even though they're in our lake. Hagrid's the best for agreeing to let us come along; I can't imagine any other teacher letting fifth years join a sixth year lesson.' Ginny babbled excitedly as she scooped up a bucket of her own. 'We're so lucky, though. Do you know how rare it is to find even a small pod, let alone a whole colony?' Now more settled with the knowledge that Hagrid accepted their participation, the fifth year girl seemed nearly fit to bursting with enthusiasm as they made their way towards the lake.
'That's because they rarely live around British waters. They're traditionally tropical mammals, you know. These ones are specially bred over generations before they could be introduced into the lake.'
Ginny turned towards Luna, who peered with a strange mixture of carelessness and eagerness towards the lake, as though she could spot the magical creatures even at such a distance. 'How do you know that?'
'Luna came and sat in our class on Wednesday.' Neville shifted his bucket awkwardly in his arms. 'That's how she knew we were going to see them today. She got curious when we said we'd just finished with Capricorns. Hippocampus are the natural segue, right?'
'You came to their class on Wednesday too? Why didn't you invite me? Actually, why didn't I even notice?'
'Michaela said you fell asleep nearly as soon as class started. Tuesday night you pulled the all-nighter, didn't you? You were tired all day.'
Ginny pursed her lips at Luna's words, but failed to respond as they rapidly approached the edge of the lake.
It was remarkably cold so close to the water. Harry felt himself begin the frustratingly persistent shivers that he was all-too familiar with. Hunching his shoulders, he turned a glance towards the sky. Did that look like snow clouds?
Moments later a sudden warmth spread through his body. Glancing beside him, he noticed Neville had deposited his squid-bucket and pointed his wand at him. 'Better?'
Struggling with a smile, Harry nodded. 'Thank you.'
'No problem.'
'All righ'! Putting your buckets down on the ground so's you don't spill 'em – we're not gonna be holdin' 'em all lesson.' Following his own directions, Hagrid dropped his barrel-like tub of treats before raising two fingers to his lips. A sharp whistle split the air moments later, and was answered by a similarly pitched shriek from an unseeable source.
'Righ'. Now, if yeh all'll be watchin'…' Scooping up a handful of the calamari, with a demonstration of incredible throwing abilities, the half-giant launched the treats over a hundred feet into the lake. Every eye in the class fastened on the faint splash in the distance.
'Watchin'…just watchin'…'
Stillness spread across the surface of the lake, pristine flatness appearing deceptively solid. That is, until a burst of foaming spray launched a half-dozen feet into the air and revealed a long, sinuous form of greenish blue, striped in darker greys like a tiger shark and just as long. The beating fins fanned for a few moments, as though flapping to keep the creature suspended in mid-air, and a delighted whinny echoed across the lake from the pointed snout before the creature twisted and crashed back into the darkness of the lake.
Gasps and whispers of wonder flitted through the watching class. Harry himself was rendered speechless, though that wasn't particularly unusual itself. Magical creatures, whether dangerous or harmless, tended to have such an impact on him. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why more sixth years hadn't continued the course, regardless of what Neville had guiltily admitted was Hagrid's previously questionable teaching methods. He'd apparently improved substantially in the last year or so.
'It's just as beautiful as a thestral… I heard that their manes were purple because of the whirglispurts that live only in hippocampus hair, so that explains the colour… I wonder if I asked nicely enough they would let me take a sample of the mucus from their skin? It's supposed to have remarkable antiobiotic properties. It would be fascinating…'
Harry nearly smiled at the soft narration Luna kept up at his side. For her sake, he was glad that it was quiet enough for no one else to hear. He didn't particularly mind, but previous experience had taught him that most were more put off than amused by the oddness of her monologues.
He could hardly blame her, though. Luna was one of the few people that seemed to share his fascination for magical creatures. Neville and Ginny both seemed more partial to continuing their education in that area due to their loyalty to Hagrid, and the three other girls in the class demonstrated a mixture of wariness and academic curiosity, of the two Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaw respectively. For Harry, something about the solidity of the creatures, something that was deemed so mystical yet he could see before his very eyes, could even feel, was one of the most wondrous things he had encountered since he had begun his tutelage at Hogwarts. They were visible, real and solid, and, more importantly, believable. No grasping at theoretical possibilities. Almost against his will, he felt himself driven with the urge to get closer.
'Do you think we could get closer?' The whisper from Luna, nearly identical to his own thoughts, sparked a flinch driven not only from the sudden proximity of the Ravenclaw girl. She had nearly pressed herself to his side in an effort to remain covert.
Harry paused for a moment to recompose himself. 'I…I don't know. Hagrid's saying something about feeding them…' Glancing over towards his teacher, he could just make out the relaying of directions the half-giant boomed at the two Hufflepuff girls. They seemed eager enough to participate further, even with the evident distaste at thickly lathering their fingers with greasy calamari.
'Come on, let's go in the water.'
Harry had to bite back an exclamation of horror at the suggestion. 'Luna, it's nearly winter. You'd freeze to death.'
'Don't worry, don't worry.' Luna flapped a hand loosely in his direction, as though dissipating the arguments. 'You've got a Warming Charm on you already, and we'll just dry ourselves off when we come out.'
Firm in her resolution, the girl squatted down beside the bucket of squid, conjured a basket and proceeded to grab handfuls of the deep fried substance from the greater depths. When Harry admitted defeat, or accepted as may be more appropriate, she conjured a similar basket for him and passed it over wordlessly. Harry nodded his head in thanks; Luna was like that. She didn't need someone to ask for help, but acknowledged their difficulties and assisted in the most direct way possible.
Moments later, the both had shed their robes, rolled their trousers up to their knees, removed shoes and socks and headed towards the lake-side. Lyssy, never one to be left behind even with the looming threat of water, darted from her spectator's position on the tree-line and clawed her way onto Harry's shoulder, peering towards the darkness of the lake with a twitching tail. Only when the water – thankfully free of iciness due to the presence of their Warming Charms – lapped at their toes did a call pause them in place.
'Luna, Harry, what are you doing?'
Neville's voice was thick with incredulity and concern. Initially distracted by Ginny in their mutual admiration, he evidently hadn't noticed their motions until that moment. Now, he hastened to their side, frowning at Luna as though blaming her and conveniently overlooking Harry's role as a primary participant.
'We wanted to get a little bit closer. Did you want to come too, Neville?' Blissfully unaware, or perhaps deliberately ignoring, Neville's concern, Luna cast his a dreamy smile towards him before turning without waiting for an answer and wading into the water. Harry offered a shrug to Neville before following her, basket crooked in his elbow and Lyssy pressed firmly against his ear. Neville's mumbling behind him alerted him to his agreement and he was unsurprised when moments later a light splashing could be heard behind him.
'Not too far, you lot! I don't wanna be fishin' anybody outta the lake. An' Warming Charms if yeh please.'
Harry shook his head. Only at Hogwarts would a teacher fail to drag their wayward pupils from a freezing lake full of potentially dangerous creatures.
Well past his knees and the crinkle of where his trousers were folded to, Harry finally stopped beside Luna when the cold waters lapped at the base of his ribcage. The heavy weight of his clothes dragged him to a halt more than anything else. Luna was already scooping calamari from her basket, which now drifted idly on the water beside her, and shaking the squid in the water to waft the scent towards their targets. Hippocampus have an incredible sense of smell. Hagrid had assured them it was their primary sense by far.
Pausing in wait, choosing to watch first, Harry was pleasantly surprised yet notably unintimidated when a roiling of the waters around himself and Luna alerted them to the presence of a visitor. The blackness of the lake seemed to cloak anything even just beneath the surface in dark invisibility, so it was only when the creature broke the gently waving surface that it became visible.
It was an enormous creature, easily the size of an orca. Some might have thought the slimy greenish blue scales were ugly, the mane-like tendrils spouting from the back of its neck distastefully similar to seaweed and the flat black eyes disconcerting. Harry didn't feel so, and evidently neither did Luna as she reached out fearlessly and offered the morsels in a flat palm.
With delicacy bellying its size, the hippocampus prodded Luna's palm with its pointed snout, nuzzling her pale fingers before vacuuming the squid into its mouth. A long purple tongue lapped across the greasy surface of her hand before comically licking its lips and drawing back slightly. Luna breathed a giggle of delight, turning her palm over and reaching towards the head with forced slowness. The treats had evidently bought her loyalty, as the hippocampus barely withdrew when she placed a finger on her head.
Harry was somewhat captivated by the display. Luna's ease, her complete lack of cow, left a warm buzz in his chest. Yes, he decided, he quite liked the girl's company. Following her example, he scooped a handful of squid from his own basket and wafted it in the water. Barely moments later, a slightly smaller head presented itself. A mare, if the absence of stripes on the snout was anything to go by, and a faintly paler green than the buck at her side. With blind probing, the horse-like snout brushed across his fingers in search of the treats before gobbling them up with such an expression of satisfaction that Harry nearly laughed. Nearly, though not quite.
Neville soon joined his side, followed by Ginny after some time. Eventually, even Hagrid, accompanied by the three other sixth year girls, joined their wading and each gaining remarkable confidence after the first confrontation with the impressive beasts. Hannah and Susan had even begun to label them with rather colourful names, while Mandy contented herself with slowly and deliberately feeding each hippocampus that approached her, but never more than one treat each.
The little mare stuck with Harry for the entire lesson. Even when the treats had been exhausted, and more than half of their attendees sunken beneath the surface, the pale green creature continued to nudge insistently at his hand. An odd sliminess coated his hands, not exactly unpleasant but certainly unfamiliar. Harry found himself rather amused to realise that the slimness was beginning to tinge his palms green. He continued to stroke the knobbly head of the mare as Hagrid proceeded with the theoretical component of their lesson, giving a rather obtuse description of the history of this Black Lake's particular colony before proceeding to give a far more in-depth analysis of their anatomy. The real-life examples beside him were an added bonus.
It was a companionable lesson, and Harry wasn't the only one who was startled when Hagrid exclaimed that they had run nearly an hour over time. Indeed, the sun had nearly disappeared behind the darkness of the forest behind them, only a faint glow remaining of it vibrancy.
'All righ', yeh lot, quickly out of the lake. I'm no' sayin' it's gonna happen, but the giant squid seems to have switched to a nocturnal cycle, so yeh may want the be getting yerselves outta the water before then.'
As one, every student exchanged glances before powering out of the water. The hippocampus, startled by their sudden movement, disappeared beneath the surface before they had even reached the shore.
'Here, Harry, I'll dry you off.' Luna, turning towards Harry as her trembled even in his warming charm, pointed her wand towards him even while she dripped puddles onto the pebbles under her feet.
'I'm okay, I can manage. You dry yourself -'
'Sicumo.'
In a split second, Harry's trousers and the bottom half of his shirt billowed with crisp warmth and marked dryness. Sighing, he dipped his head in appreciation. 'Thanks.'
'No problem.' The blonde girl smiled easily before quickly drying herself.
Ginny, similarly in a renewed state of dryness, hastened to her side. 'Luna, I completely forgot. We have that assignment on Baba Yaga to hand in today. Today!'
The Ravenclaw nodded her head. 'I know. I handed it in on this morning.'
Staring open-mouthed at her friend, Ginny huffed in a mixture of annoyance and exasperation. 'Luna! Why didn't you tell me?!'
'I thought you would have done it already.'
'Obviously not! I completely forgot. And bloody hell, it's actually worth something. Trust Binns to have an interest in Baba Yaga of all people. Creepy old sod…' Huffing again and straightening her skirt, the girl grasped Luna's wrist between demanding fingers and tugged her in the direction of the castle. 'Come on, I've got a six o'clock deadline. It'll be as much your fault as mine if I end up handing it in late!'
'No, I don't think it will be, Ginny.'
'Say what you will, I blame you if I fail…'
The voices died off into the distance as the two girls hastened from the lakeside, Luna waving vaguely over her shoulder and leaving Harry, Neville and the rest of their class to make their own leisurely way back towards the awaiting dinner.
'Enjoy the lesson Neville, Harry?' Hagrid's voice, though hushed in an attempt to be heard by only the two boys, still managed to cause all three of the other girls to turn their heads.
Neville grinned widely. 'Definitely. It was brilliant. I wish the other sixth years could have seen what we just did; they'd wish they never gave up your class.'
Hagrid positively glowed under the praise. 'Thanks for that, Neville. Harry, how about you?'
Harry glanced up, far up, at the face that seemed to stretch into the distance above. A slight quirk of nervousness seemed to tug at the tall man's features, evident even through the bushy tangle of beard and hair. Harry couldn't quite comprehend that. For some reason, Hagrid appeared to be trying desperately to gain Harry's favour. From what he could gather from discussing with the other teachers in a very circumspect way, the half-giant seemed to feel he owed it to Harry to ensure his time at Hogwarts was enjoyable. Apparently it had hit him hard that he had failed as the initial collector when Harry was eleven years old.
Well, that and his evidently high regard for Harry's parents. Few people even mentioned it, but it seemed that many felt it was their responsibility to the deceased couple to care for their son. A strange commitment, given how he had never seen most of the people before his sixteenth birthday.
Offering his own appreciation, Harry forced his expression to soften. It was still difficult, but he was getting better at it. 'It was great, Professor. I think I agree with Neville. Your classes are probably one of my favourites.'
It was evidently the right thing to say. All anxiety dropped from the man's face to be replaced by an even more radiant smile that positively split his bearded chin in half. 'Argh… I'm happy to hear that. Really.' He scratched his head bashfully before stepping up to the three girls that walked before them. Confidence boosted, it appeared he now felt it his duty to ask the same questions of the rest of his class. His eagerness wasn't disappointed. Their replies were similarly glowing.
Dropping off their buckets at Hagrid's hut, Neville and Harry made their slow, wandering way back up to the castle. The two Hufflepuff girls trudged even more slowly behind them, rapidly falling into the distance, while Mandy strode ahead, pulling a book from her bag and skilfully flipping open the hard cover to read while she walked. The distance she put between them afforded them its own privacy.
'It really was brilliant.' Neville smiled slowly, as though just realising the truth of his words. He glanced towards Harry, a slow smile spreading across his face. 'You enjoyed yourself.'
It was a statement, not a question. Harry nearly paused in his step. 'Hmm?'
'You were smiling. Well, sort of… you know you, well, you looked like you were having fun.' Neville tugged awkwardly on his fringe. 'You don't often look like that.'
Harry was silent. He hadn't even realised he had let his face slip into expression. The frequency of such seemed to be occurring more and more. It was a little disconcerting, and Harry couldn't quite decide whether it terrified him or left him with a feeling of…wonder.
'You too.'
'What was that?'
'You enjoyed yourself too. Not as much as you do in Herbology, I might add, but still.'
Neville chuckled. His naturally green thumb lent itself to skill in Herbology, a skill that manifested in his natural interest. The taller boy showed quite an aptitude for the class, something that initially irked Blaise when he realised his own mild interest was overshadowed by the Gryffindors slightly higher skill. Not that it held a candle on Neville's exceptional skill in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he was certainly in the upper reaches of the class. Something Harry had found himself benefitting from one more than one occasion.
'Yeah, I can't really deny that. The hippocampus were amazing, though. I never really expected to enjoy Magical Creatures as much as I do after last year's classes.' He grimaced a little guiltily at Harry's questioning gaze. 'We always say Hagrid's great, but truth is fifth year was bollocks. I only really continued 'cause I didn't want him to be, you know, without a class.'
'Ron and Hermione didn't feel quite the same loyalty?'
Another chuckle. 'Nah, but I can't say I blame them. Ron didn't have such a great time of it with the chimera last year. I'm pretty sure he's still got a scar from the snakebite. And Hermione has such a full timetable she can hardly keep up with it herself. She's always like that. You know she had to use a time-turner in third year, just so she could get to all of her classes?'
Harry frowned slightly, unfamiliar with the term. 'Time turner?'
'Yeah, little hourglass thingo. You turn it backwards the number of hours you want to travel back in time.'
Harry felt his eyes widen unconsciously, too startled to keep a reign on his surprise. 'Travel back in time?'
Neville grinned broadly at his expression. 'Never heard of a time turner before?'
'Neville, time travel is completely unrealistic. Impossible. Well, travelling backwards in time, anyway. Forwards? Maybe, if you could induce some sort of stasis, but backwards is just…'
'Harry, I did it with her. It's not impossible, we really did travel back in time.'
'No, it's not possible. I don't care what you say, time is a man-made concept. You can't act upon it to change the universe around you when it essentially doesn't exist.'
Neville was clutching his sides, laughing with hearty chuckles by the time Harry finished his tirade. Tears bubbled from his eyes, swimming and threatening to fall as he struggled with his merriment. 'Jeez, Harry, you're so…' Wiping fingers across eyelids, he straightened with difficulty. 'Honestly, I don't know how you do it. For someone who seems so mellow, you certainly are set in your ways. How can you dispute something that has actually been proved to work?'
Harry frowned slightly at Neville's amusement, but there was little heat in his disgruntlement. It wasn't exactly the first time he had encountered such circumstances. 'It just doesn't make sense.'
'But it's magic.'
'I don't think that really counts as an argument, Neville.' The comment only set the Gryffindor boy laughing once more.
They continued back towards the castle with easy, superficial conversation. Neville appeared in a remarkably good mood, what with the enduring enthusiasm from the hippocampus encounter and his delight over Harry's persistent denial of what he deemed 'factual'. However, as they stepped into the shadow of the entrance hall, his good-humour dampened slightly and the smile slipped from his lips. Harry cocked his head towards the other boy questioningly, not speaking but simply awaiting an explanation he could feel was on the tip of Neville's tongue.
'It's probably a little bit late for me to make dinner. Heading up to Dumbledore's again, you know? I think I'll have to just drop by the kitchens on the way back to the dorms…' The Gryffindor tugged a lock of his hair once more, clearly unfinished but struggling to find the words to continue. Harry persisted in his silence. The comment so obviously awaited expansion, raising more questions than it answered, but he simply waited. Neville would work his difficulties out more efficiently without verbal input, and Harry was, as a general rule, reluctant to initiate conversation.
Glancing back into the rapidly darkening outdoors, Neville cleared his throat. 'Hannah and Susan are taking a while…' It was so obviously a stalling mechanism that he even adopted a guilty grimace before switching his focus back to Harry.
'Say Harry, I know I haven't known you for long, but even Hermione admits you have a different take on things that is, what did she call it, enlightening? Would you…mind sharing your opinion about something?'
Harry cocked his head, shrugging. It was about as passively as he could reply, and Neville seemed to relax marginally because of it. He smiled weakly.
'Me and Ron and Hermione, we… you've probably heard some of the stuff that we've done since we started at Hogwarts.'
Harry nodded. 'Yeah, I was a little bit surprised when I heard about your adventures from Draco. No one could say your schooling hasn't been eventful.'
Laughing, slightly bitterly, Neville turned towards the semi-opened doors of the Great Hall across, the faintly echoing babble of students buzzing with warmth. 'That's putting it lightly.' Turning back towards Harry, he opened his mouth, closed it again, and seemed to struggle for a moment. Taking a deep breath he begun, as if by rote.
'Since I was a baby, there's been this thing with Voldermort. You know Voldermort, right?' Harry raised his eyebrow scathingly, eliciting a humourless laugh from the Gryffindor. 'Of course you have. Even Muggleborn's know him.
'Well, when I was a baby, this evil bastard, he… there was this prophecy, and it put the brilliantly stupid idea in his head that somehow I was going to grow up to be his ultimate nemesis or something like that. In his infinite wisdom, he decided that it was better to get in early, erase any possible threat before it could manifest.'
Neville's tone had become monotonous, his eyes fixed on the floor. The offhandedness of his tone bellied his expression, which had hardened as he struggled to suppress the anger that smouldered in his eyes. Harry watched the other boy quietly, immobile as he contemplated the possibility of the Gryffindor bursting into an angry tirade.
'October thirty-first, fifteen years ago, he came to my parent's house. Dad wasn't home; he went to gran's for something-or-other. Never found out what. Dad doesn't like to talk about it. But Voldermort, he came to our house and he… he tried to kill me. He killed my mum, but somehow, when he tried to kill me, it didn't work. Somehow, the spell backfired and hit him instead. Gave me this scar as a souvenir.' Neville pulled back his fringe to reveal the jagged mark on his forehead, coughing that dry, humourless chuckle again that echoed through the empty hall again. 'I guess he was right to be scared, huh? My mum died that night, instead of me, and Voldermort disappeared. For ten years, at least.
'Now he's back. You've probably heard as much, yeah?' Harry nodded his silent assent, unwilling to break into Neville's train of thought. The other boy's eyes had flattened into an intimidating intensity. 'He's on a rampage, so to speak, and he's only growing stronger. I don't know if you've seen what's been in the Prophet, but it's getting pretty bad. And for some reason, Dumbledore and just about everyone else has it in their head that I'm sort of going to defeat him. Or something.'
Finally, Neville looked up to Harry. Harry fought to keep his face open and welcoming, not a familiar expression but one that wasn't entirely difficult to assume. 'Harry, they want me to kill him. I have to… Dumbledore says that we have to kill him, to finally be rid of him. That's where I'm going tonight, to go and see Dumbledore and try to learn… stuff. He shows me… important things. Things that will apparently help me to fight him.'
Neville drew in a ragged breath. The intimidating façade seemed to slip like melted butter from his face, leaving a worried expression in its place. He dragged a hand through his hair, spiking it up haphazardly, and Harry was startled to behold his utter world-weariness. It was so pronounced that Harry marvelled at how well he had hidden it. What was almost as surprising was that Neville, for whatever reason, found Harry a worthy recipient to his confession.
Waiting in silence, Harry awkwardly stroked at Lyssy's head where she still perched on his shoulder, eyes fixed on Neville's downturned face. For the first time in a long time, he wished he were better with words. Blaise always praised him for his listening abilities, but failed to realise that they were so developed due to a general lack of speaking in his past experience. Biting his lip, he took a step forward, hoping that if nothing else the proximity would provide a comfort.
Finally, Neville glanced up at Harry. The smaller boy was startled, and a little bit daunted, to see the faint glassiness of tears in the Gryffindor's eyes. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to… I know that it would make more sense to talk to Ron or Hermione, but for some reason…'
All of a sudden it clicked. Neville was afraid. Desperately afraid, but the lurking fear that pervaded every student at the school, every teacher on some level, prevented him from expressing his own fears and confiding in his trusted fellows. Harry, an outsider, provided the perfect outlet for him to express his worries without the fears it would impress upon his fellow classmates. Classmates that placed their hopes upon Neville's novice shoulders.
It wasn't long after beginning his attendance at Hogwarts that Harry came to the realisation that Neville was deemed Wizarding World's official Saviour. Harry had accepted the title along with every other fact that he had confronted; with slight confusion and wary integration. Now, upon feeling the physical waves of distress emanating form Neville, the reality hit him.
'What should I do, Harry? Voldermort is evil, I have no doubt about that. What he has done to so many people, what he did to my mum… Someone like that shouldn't have the right to exist. But I'm supposed to kill him. I am.' A ragged sigh, heaved from Neville's chest. Raising his eyes from the floor, Harry was caught breathless by the anguish displayed there. It was almost pleading. The poor youth had been backed into a corner and didn't feel able to allay his fears with anyone.
Struggling internally, a war to overcome his own uncertainties, Harry finally stepped closer to the boy, nearly touching. It was with physical effort that he forced a smile to his face, but he managed. Effectively, apparently, for some of the roiling distress eased in Neville's eyes to be replaced a little by surprise.
'Neville, I don't think anyone can tell you what you should do. I don't think it's fair to have thrust you into the position you are now but…' Anxiety rising with his nervousness – he desperately wished to offer the perfect words of comfort – his hand inched briefly towards his collarbones before he caught himself. 'Honestly, if you were told that you could leave it up to someone else, would you?'
Bafflement replaced the remaining distress on Neville's face almost completely. 'Huh?'
'If Dumbledore, if all of the Ministry of Magic, suddenly told you that you didn't have to kill him, you didn't have to fight anymore. Just focus on your education, live your life and let someone else deal with everything, would you?'
Something akin to anger tightened Neville's eyes. He locked his jaw, raising his chin. 'I couldn't just leave everything alone. How could I live normally knowing what's going on?'
'So you'd want to be a part of it?'
'Of course! Voldermort destroyed my family when he- He killed my mum! How could I just rest easily when -'
'Then I think you have your answer.' Harry thought he himself was almost as surprised as Neville for interrupting the other boy. He couldn't remember ever speaking so assertively in his life. It was a disconcerting feeling that he smothered in an attempt to focus. 'Neville, I don't think anyone could force you to kill that man. But the fact that you want to fight? I think there's something in you that, even without everyone pushing you, would still seek what you felt is right.'
A dawning comprehension spread across Neville's face. All of a sudden, determination and satisfaction replaced his anger and distress. A crooked grin curled his lips and he smiled at Harry. 'It seems kind of obvious now that you've said it.'
Harry struggled with his smile in reply. 'It always does when someone else points it out.'
A faint chuckle met his words. 'True. Still, thanks.' Fingering the strap on his bag, Neville turned towards the inner corridors of the school. He paused for a moment, as though caught. 'Um, anyway. I'll see you later Harry. I've gotta go to Dumbledore's.'
Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. He wasn't even sure how he did it. In a split second decision, he reached out a hand, hesitantly, then with more force, and clasped his fingers on Neville's shoulder. The Gryffindor started; Harry knew that his friends were aware of his fear-response to any form of contact, even if they didn't understand that it bespoke of deeply imbedded repulsion that crawled under his skin. Neville's face said it all.
Riding on his sudden burst of confidence, Harry nodded to his friend. 'You've done pretty well so far, Neville. If ever there was anyone strong enough to pull through, it would be you.'
The crooked grin widened. 'Thanks, Harry.' With an invigorating breath, the boy strode across the empty hall, shoes ringing loudly on the stone floor. Just as he was about to begin his climb of the impressive stairwell, he paused once more, turning curiously back towards Harry watching him retreat.
'Harry.' He paused, as though pondering his question, before he let out in a rush. 'When's your birthday?'
'What?'
'Your birthday. What's the date?'
It was an entirely unexpected question, vastly out of place from the in-depth, emotional exchange they has both partaken in moments before. Harry was at a loss momentarily, floundering to compose himself in the rapid change of topic. 'Um… it…it's the thirty-first of July. I'm the same age as you.'
Neville stared at him with an odd expression on his face, a different sort of odd to the roiling confusion of emotions Harry bore witness to before. This time, it was much more difficult to discern it's nature. 'The thirty-first. What are the odds…?'
'What?'
Shaking his head, the Gryffindor smiled a somewhat forced upturning of lips. 'Nothing, I just realised. Your birthday is only a day after mine.'
'Really?' Harry cocked his head, surprised but not as shaken as Neville appeared to be. The taller boy appeared positively astounded by the realisation. It wasn't so unusual, surely. Everyone had a birthday next to someone elses, and shared it with more people than they could count. 'I didn't know. Sorry I missed your birthday.'
The offhand comment drew Neville's attention, eliciting a more genuine smile this time. 'No worries. Sorry I missed yours too.'
'There's always next year.'
'Yeah. Next year.' Sinking back into heavy thought, the youth turned once more and disappeared with the retreating stairs.
Harry watched him go, frowning slightly in bewilderment. It was an odd way to conclude their conversation, but he couldn't exactly say he was an expert on such things, even with several months of friendship under his belt.
Releasing the pent breathe he didn't realise he held, Harry turned from the empty stairwell and slipped into the hall. Despite his confusion, a certain sense of satisfaction gripped him, so unexpected that it overrode the faint tingling, the tightening of skin that was almost painful that still remained on his fingers as they protested the lingering warmth of Neville's shoulder. It was the feeling of actually being able to help someone. He knew that, being who he was, he couldn't do much. Even so, he resolved to support the Gryffindor. Even if it was only with a poor attempt at a smile and a pat on the back.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing! It's really lovely of you to let me know that my story is actually being enjoyed by some people!

Next chapter will be diving into the plot a bit - a lot - more. A little bit more of Draco and Harry, too; I know there hasn't been a huge amount so far, but I'm getting there!
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The Masks of Real Heroes