Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Harry still felt conflicted on the whole matter, even days later. But when he wanted to seek Suka out, he wasn't able to. He'd tried to invite her to Hogsmeade with him, to the forming of the D.A.
At first, he thought that maybe she was still in the hospital wing and had been on the verge of throwing all caution to the wind to go and see for himself when he saw her during dinner a few days later. And all throughout the meal, Harry tried to catch her eye, which was already difficult with the Slytherin table being on the opposite end of the hall from the Gryffindors.
When that didn't work out, he was determined to catch her afterward, but she only left the table when Higgs and a group of Slytherin did. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was being avoided after a few days of that, successfully so. And, was it just him, or did she look more closed off even with her housemates?
And with their entirely different schedules, he didn't see her between classes either. Sending her notes came to failures as well, or so he assumed. She rarely came to breakfast, so he never actually saw if she received the messages or not. If she did, they went unanswered and unacknowledged, anyways.
Detentions with Umbridge had been the usual hell, especially now that he was back to reopening the same wound over and over again, scraping deeper and deeper each time, and giving the cuts no time to even scab over completely. Harry wouldn't be all that surprised to see the white of bone amongst the river of red one day.
Harry tried to take care of his injury the best he could on his own, accepting that he may not have Suka's healings to aid him anytime soon. And he still refused to go to the Infirmary. However, he didn't fight the strange concoction Hermione had him soaking his hand in every night. Murtala something, he thinks she called it. It certainly soothed the pain and irritation, so he didn't complain. Thought the relief only lasted for a while outside of the wound being covered. Unless he had his hand submerged, the stinging would return.
Thankfully, this was his last night of detention with Umbridge. Harry swung open the portrait hole and stepped into the common room. It was late, closing in on 11 p.m., so the room was practically deserted besides a few upper years and, of course, Ron and Hermione.
And Neville, too, he noted as he walked over to the sitting area around the fireplace. The usual bowl of Murtlap was waiting for him, and Harry fell onto the sofa beside Neville, his hand immediately burying itself into the bowl. A relieved groan escaped his lips.
"Are you sure you don't want to tell McGonagall?" Neville asked quietly. Ever since he'd been made aware of Umbridge's methods of discipline, Neville had been making a habit of checking up on Harry often. The shy Gryffindor wasn't ever really close to the Golden Trio as a whole, but he liked Harry the best, as he'd always been nice to him.
Hermione was too bossy and a tad bit intimidating for Neville, and Ron wasn't exactly subtle with his backhanded-sometimes direct too- comments and teasing.
Harry's kindness was always appreciated, and Neville liked to think they had formed some sort of bond or understanding. Unbeknownst to the others, back during the previous year, Harry and Neville had started to get closer, to the point that Harry would occasionally seek him out for comfort.
They didn't speak much during these times, and if they did, it usually was about random, unimportant things. A distraction. It was a mostly silent arrangement, with both of them just enjoying each other's presence.
Even though Harry usually looked exceptionally down and out of it, Neville couldn't help but look forward to these interactions in some of their encounters. He liked to be of some help to his friend since he tended to feel rather useless.
The people around him didn't help with those thoughts, besides Harry or Luna Lovegood. Though, the girl was a bit strange, to begin with, even by Neville standards.
"I'm positive, Nev," Harry sighed, trying to keep the snappiness out of his tone. "McGonagall already knows and hasn't done shit about it. It would be pointless to bother her again."
Harry looked between his friends. "Any luck with finding a meeting area?" He asked, using his free hand to spread the sap moreover his hand.
Ron shook his head. "Just abandoned classrooms, but we can only protect those so much."
"Umbridge would find us, no doubt," Hermione added in agreement, sighing. Harry let out another groan at that information, ignoring the annoyed looks from the other students.
"Perfect." Harry grabbed the bowl before lying on his back, head falling into Neville's empty lap. He placed the bowl on his stomach, careful not to spill any of it.
"I have a headache," he mumbled in explanation as Neville's brown eyes blinked down at him. "Rub my temples?"
"Sure," was Neville's immediate response, hands going to the sides of Harry's head. Harry shut his eyes and tried to relax a bit.
"The chamber is our best option," Harry said, continuing the conversation.
But no one sane is going go there willingly. Especially Ginny."
Besides, they needed a place that people can come and go quickly from, not one that they needed Harry specifically to enter.
"You realize that you're putting yourself under the non-sane side of that," Hermione commented dryly. Harry just waved her off.
"Technicalities." He wasn't in the mood to argue.
"Plus that barmy Slytherin girl," Ron said. "Wasn't she the one who wanted to go down there in the first place?"
"Ron," Harry warned sharply, not opening his eyes.
"What? Oh, please, tell me you're not still hung up about her," the redhead whined. "After what happened, you've got to be kidding me!"
Neville and Hermione exchanged similar looks, sensing that there may be some raised voices in a moment. Hermione quickly and quietly cast a privacy charm just as Harry cracked an eye open in annoyance.
"I was never hung up on Mosukuwa."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. It's not surprising that you have a type; I get it, she's hot. But I'd think you'd draw the line somewhere. It's not even that she's in Slytherinanymore. It's the fact that she attacked us. She could have killed us, Harry, if Snape didn't show up. And we have no clue what she is, either. That should be enough for you to steer clear."
"I know that," Harry snapped, starting to sit up. "So, can you just drop it?"
"Well, excuse me for being concerned!"
"You keep bringing it back up! I've made my thoughts clear, and so have you. Just leave it."
"Boys," Hermione cut in as Ron began to open his mouth again. She sighed. "Harry's right, Ron, just leave it. We have more important things to worry about right now."
Neville guided Harry's head back down into his lap and continued rubbing his temples in an attempt to get rid of the new tension radiating from him. "Do you want a headache potion?" He asked. "I think I still have some left from when I had a migraine a few weeks ago."
Harry thought for a moment, then shook his head. "If it doesn't go away by the time I go to bed, I'll take it. Not right now, though." He was too comfortable to have Neville move anywhere anyways.
Neville chuckled. "Alright."
That's what Harry liked about Neville. He didn't hover, wasn't overbearing, at least not too much that it genuinely annoyed him. Not like Hermione, whose mothering tendencies sometimes made Harry think she was trying to make up for Harry's lack of a mother figure in his life.
It made Harry feel guilty about how he'd treated Neville through their first few years until they started getting close last year. While Harry never took part in the teasing and bullying, he never actively tried to stop it. He'd usually just tune it out when it happened. Harry knew why. He was too scared to go against the actions of his peers at the time.
He was in a new place, away from the Dursley's influences and his very much undeserved reputation in Surry. He was actually around people that didn't see him as a freak, at least at the time, and he didn't want to be turned against if he said anything. All that effort was wasted, he was soon to realize starting his 2nd year. And it had also wasted time where he could have had Neville as a close friend from the beginning.
He had been a coward; he accepted that. He wasn't about to use that as an excuse. With them becoming close, Harry took on a defensive route when it came to Neville, just as actively as he always did for Ron and Hermione.
He really should branch out when it comes to his friends. Harry snorted. This would be the year he'd finally consider that.
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Hours later, Neville woke up groggily. Silently casting a tempus charm, he heaved himself out of bed. It was closing in at 3 a.m.
Sighing, he pulled the curtains of his four-poster bed to the side, acutely aware of the sounds of his snoring and sleeping roommates. He didn't want to hear the hell they'd raise if he woke them up. His goal was to go take a late-night piss, but he only found himself startled out of his mind, heart threatening to burst through his chest as his eyes met a pair of glowing jade ones in the darkness by his bed.
"Harry," he hissed out. The dark-haired boy was sitting on the window sill between their beds, back pressed against the wall and knees to his chest. Neville rubbed his eyes tiredly, taking a moment for his heart to return to its regular beat track. "What are you doing?"
In the light of the moon coming through the window, Harry ducked his head, looking apologetic. "Couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?" he whispered.
Neville shook his head. "I was about to head to the bathroom, but that can wait a moment. Are you okay? I guess the headache potion didn't work that well, huh?"
"No, it did. But I didn't expect it to keep away the nightmares." Harry turned his face back towards the window, a haunted look flashing on his face.
Neville didn't know how to respond to that. He knew they were dreams about you-know-who; he had heard many of Harry's nightmares in action over the years, them being more prominent last year, and then he stopped witnessing them. Neville assumed that Harry had started using silencing charms around his bed after Seamus made an irritated comment about being woken up for the third time in one week. Neville hated the fact that Harry felt the need to do that and had wanted to deck Seamus over the head for it.
Neville went and sat in the small empty space next to Harry, and Harry pulled his legs closer to his chest to make more room.
"You've been kind of out of it for a while now," Neville said. "Like more than usual," he added sheepishly when Harry shot him a look.
Harry sighed. "There's...there's just a lot of stuff going on all at once, and I struggling to keep up. I'm not sure if I'm doing the right things, making the right decisions..."
"You mean keeping on with telling people you-know-who is back?" Neville asked. Thankfully, Harry wasn't in the right headspace to correct Neville on his use of 'you-know-who' like he usually did.
"No, I don't regret that, and I'm not backing down on it. I am not a liar." Harry's eyes narrowed, flashing darkly as his left hand balled up into a fist. He'd soaked some bandages in the Murtlap sap before bed and wrapped them around the cuts. They looked dry and crusty now, Neville noticed in slight disgust.
"Careful," he chided, reaching over and pulling his fingers out of the fist. "You don't want to make it more irritated than it already is."
"Yes, mother," Harry teased half-heartedly, making Neville redden.
"Shut up," Neville chuckled. "So, then what?" he asked.
Harry was silent, and Neville allowed him to his own thoughts.
"I think this whole defense club is going to be a bad idea in the long run."
"What makes you think that?"
"If we get caught, everyone involved will have to go through Umbridge's blood quills. I don't care if it's just me, but-" Harry shook his head. "And then the whole situation with Mosukuwa and Ron, I-I don't, I have no clue what I'm doing."
Neville watched his friend bury his face into his knees as he processed what was said. He could understand Harry's worries, but he hated the fact that he only cared if someone else was getting hurt in the crossfire, not at all caring that he was the one being tortured himself. He was right. If they were caught, Umbridge wouldn't discriminate. She'd put all of them under the points of blood quills. It put them at the risk of that, but on the off chance that they weren't caught, it would be worth it, right?
Neville glanced out the window. It looked out over the inky black lake and dark school grounds. In the distance, he could make out a dim glow through the window of Hagrid's hut, most likely coming from the firepit inside.
There was a war coming, despite no one wanting to believe it. It wasn't like the Dark Lord was going to sit around a wait until they did. Hopefully, they would all see sooner rather than later, and they won't be able to ignore the facts. Or try to pass the murders and crimes as random acts or blame it on Sirius Black.
And Neville didn't know much about the situation Harry spoke of about Mosukuwa. Beyond the attack she'd apparently made on the trio, Ron wouldn't stop ranting and raving about it when Neville had asked if everything was alright that morning. The trio looked worse-for-wear, after all.
Neville had only seen the pretty transfer student a few times after the sorting ceremony, most of those times being during meals. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been curious, like many of his other peers; they often didn't get new students besides the recent first years.
Neville could see why Harry may or may not have a thing for the girl; she was stunning and look friendly enough. But that could be due to him never interacting with her. He trusted Harry's judgment, though.
There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about her. The excitement that came with having a new kid soon died down after a few days. People were too focused on the drama of Harry and Dumbledore v.s. The ministry and Mosukuwa was moved to a dim back burner in peoples' minds. Besides the occasional comment on her looks from both the guys and girls, he didn't hear about her much.
"Well," Neville finally spoke. "You told them the risks and possible consequences, that in itself should tell them to be cautious. And it's not like they don't know what they're getting into."
Harry just frowned in response.
"And based on the number of signatures we got, quite a lot believe it to be worth it, whether they believe what you're saying about you-know-who or not."
"I just don't want other people to get hurt because of me..."
Neville sighed. "You can't control what other people choose to do, Harry. They are doing this of their own free will. They could have said no if they truly wanted to."
Harry didn't say anything and refused to look Neville in the face.
"And I don't know about the stuff with the new girl," Neville admitted sheepishly, thinking it would be best to change the topic.
"Ron's just bitter," Harry said, going along and sounding annoyed now. "I tried to tell him that I believe it was all an accident, that she didn't mean to-and valid reasons as to why I think that too!-but he just won't listen."
"Has he ever?" Neville asked, glancing over at the closed curtains around the ginger's bed. He cringed before apologizing; Harry already doubted his friendship with Ron, Neville didn't want to add to that.
"No, no, you're right. I-I don't think he's trying to be mean about it. It's just that Weasley stubbornness. It's a force to be reckoned with." Harry snorted.
"He might just be worried about you."
Harry turned a questioning gaze on Neville, making him continue. "This is Ron Weasley we're talking about. Dense as fuck"-Harry blinked in shock. He'd never heard Neville cuss before-"and no real handle on his emotions. He probably doesn't know how to express that without feeling put out of his element."
It was similar to Harry's own stubbornness. Harry didn't know how to let others do things for him, Neville noticed. And he kept adding more burdens onto his own shoulders, even though he was practically crumbling under the weight already. Neville had a lot of respect for Harry, he had resilience and determination, but Merlin was exhausting just watching him sometimes.
Ron and Harry's friendship was on the rocks; anyone could see it. And neither of them knew how to go about fixing it, and Ron wasn't making it any better.
Maybe it was wrong of Neville to think this, but he was kind of thankful in a way for it. It had made an opening for Neville to slide into. It made him feel bad for thinking that.
Neville shook his head and excused himself for a quick moment to do what he'd been about to when he first woke up. When he returned, he wasn't by the window anymore. He was seated on the floor, back against his bed and the Maurauders' map in his hands.
"It's too late to be going to Madam Pomphrey for a Dreamless Sleep potion," Neville said, figuring that's what he was doing. He pulled the curtains to his own bed to the side and climbed back onto it. He glanced over at Harry. "Wanna sleep in my bed?"
Maybe having someone nearby would keep the nightmares at bay, and Neville didn't mind sharing the space. But Harry shook his head, getting to his feet.
"I'm already awake, so I doubt I'll be getting any more sleep tonight." He went over to his trunk and began shuffling through its contents. He pulled an object that was barely visible from it, especially in the dark. Nevile deduced that this was his invisibility cloak.
"And where are you going?" Neville demanded in a whisper as he watched Harry slip his shoes onto his feet half hazard.
"Gonna search for possible meeting areas," Harry answered.
Neville has to keep himself from groaning loudly. Rubbing his face, he said tiredly, "Harry, you just got done with Umbridge's detentions. Do you really want to risk more with being caught after curfew?"
Harry blinked owlishly at Neville, then slowly held up the cloak and map, shaking them. Neville rolled his eyes.
"So sure of that, are you?"
"I'll be careful, don't worry," Harry said. "Besides, didn't you just say earlier that this was worth the risk? It is for the D.A., after all." Harry raised a dark eyebrow as Neville grimaced. Of course, he'd have his own words turned against him.
"Get some sleep," Harry suggested and quietly headed out of the dorm. Neville wanted to scream into his pillow and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before sighing, grabbing his bathrobe and shoes, and rushing after his messy-haired friend.
Harry, who was halfway out of the portrait hole, paused. He glanced over his shoulder towards the stairs he had just descended as he heard a hiss of "wait a moment!"
Neville came stumbling down a second later, pulling his shoes on as he went. Harry feared that he would fall and hurt himself for a moment, but Neville quickly righted himself at the bottom, approaching him. He tied the thick fabric piece of his robe around his waist as he spoke.
"If I can't keep you from doing this, I can at least tag along to make sure you don't get into too much trouble."
Harry blinked, then smirked. "Having someone with me has never stopped trouble from coming my way. I'm sure Ron and Hermione are evidence of that."
"Even so, if we are caught, at least you're not by yourself," Neville said. "I doubt Umbridge would care about who she uses her blood quills on, but maybe if a student with some important familial backing will keep her at least civil. As civil as she can get, anyways."
A sad look flashed across Harry's face, but it was gone in an instant (or covered up), leaving Neville wondering if he should say something about it or not.
"Do whatever you want," Harry said as he held up the map again. "I doubt we'll get caught anyways. No professors patrol this late, and I know each of their schedules by now."
Besides Umbridge, of course, with her being a new professor. The Toad was also somewhat random with her wanderings of the Hogwarts corridors. Either way, he'd know if she was around.
Neville stared at him. "Just how often exactly do you wander out after curfew?" Neville asked. He held up a hand as Harry went to answer. "Nevermind, don't answer that. I don't want to know."
He was pinching the bridge of his nose, causing Harry to laugh, grabbing Neville's arm and pulling him out of the portrait hole.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Kimuii
Kimuii
No Suka in this chapter, but she will be in the next chapter! I wanted to play more with Harry and his other friendships that don't get a lot of mention. Neville is so under appreciated, fight me! lol. I always loved their friendship, and it was something I definitely wanted to implement more in my fics.
I hope you enjoyed this chapters and I'll see you in the next one!
Reviews and comments are always welcomed and encouraged!
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