𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

thirty six

"Mind if I take this seat, right here?"

Betty glances up, face crinkling upwards in surprise and bewilderment as her eyes meet the mousey-haired boy, pink face laced with sheepishness.

Students begin filing into the classroom, whispering to one another mysteriously despite the professor up front's impatient furrowed brows.

Around her, plenty of tables are vacant, unreserved and waiting for students to take it. The table beside Betty wasn't the only empty one.

Neville looks apprehensive, eyebrow acutely raised hesitantly at Betty's opened mouth but the lack of words spilling out. He looks as if he might leave while carrying the thought that he has made the wrong move of asking her.

"Sure," Betty stammers quickly before he can leave, a smile tilting her lip. "I mean - of course."

A grin spreads across the boy's face almost instantly and he draws out the shaky wooden chair from beneath the table, heaving his books over it before sitting.

Betty feels her heart begin racing beneath her ribcage, unable to contain the excitement that sweeps her over as the boy fixates his attention to the Transfiguration professor - who hasn't started her lesson.

With her old best friend beside her, she is unable to place her concentration back on the doodle she was scrawling on her homework's scratchy parchment.

"Is that the Potion's homework you're doing?" she hears him ask over her shoulder, leaning, though, a careful distance away.

Again, Betty is shocked he is speaking to her.

She lifts the piece of parchment, displays it modestly to him. "Yeah," she replies, "Have you done it?"

"Not exactly," Neville shrugs, "Slughorn's the least of my concern right now."

Her lips pull into a kind smile. "The Carrow's then?"

Neville scoffs imperatively as he shakes his head. "Not so much concerned with their homework than trying to get out of their punishment."

They both laugh softly, against the other students' chatter.

The lesson commences, with Professor Mcgonagall shuffling around the classroom, placing stacks of graded papers over their tables.

" - I've gotten an F?" he mutters loudly as he receives the parchment, gaining the attention of the surrounding students and a peal of snickers.

Betty finds herself being included in that laughing bunch, though restrained.

She peers over the boy's shoulder, absentmindedly like she used to do back then in every class, and her amused grin only widens.

"You didn't even try, Nev!" she guffaws, witnessing the humongous letter at the top of his paper - no doubt purposefully implanted larger than the others by the teacher - and then the several blanks on the paper.

A fleeting glint appears in the boy's eyes. His lips twitch between deciding whether or not to smile at the nickname.

"Sorry," Betty says instantly, wishing not to give the boy a chance to correct her so she wouldn't be humiliated. "Shouldn't have - "

He interrupts her, voice reaching an edge, "No - it's alright. It's not a big deal."

Betty's brows raise unintentionally, a weight blown off her shoulders as she pushes her attention back to her paper, disguises her smile.

Neville glances sideways at her. "You're right, though," he says timidly, "I haven't been trying much in my homework these days - graded or not, can't be expecting much."