Little Brave Hearts || Neville Longbottom

CHAPTER SEVENTY

After their disastrous cake party had come to an end, the atmosphere became more serious. They circled around Maykha in the common room, looking as if they were anticipating for her to explain her sudden departure from their class earlier that day.

Maykha did not initially plan to tell them what happened, mostly because she did not know how
her friends would react, and hoe did she wanted them to react. But after her conversation with Professor Lupin, she became much more comfortable to the idea of opening up to others.

"Hey, look," Harry started, "It's okay if you're not yet ready to tell us everything. We just wanted to cheer you up."

She smiled at them and shook her head, "No, I also wanted to tell you. You guys went through so much for me and that cake, and the least I could do is to let you know what's going on with my life."

She told them everything. From the time she discovered about the origin of her birth, leading her running away from home and meeting Harry along the way. She was observant of their reactions, reading them to know whether she needed to tone down her story or continue. Her friends listened carefully without interruption, and without asking any questions.

"Maybe the reason why my boggart looked like that is because of how much I fear for the uncertainty of my life. And I felt like, I suddenly did not own everything that I've ever owned, like I am not my own person, if that ever made sense," Maykha smiled bitterly. She scanned the faces of her friends, all looking at her with eyes full of worry.

It was what she wanted to avoid. For her friends to see her differently. She already had enough of identity crisis on her own, and having her friends look at her as if she had changed would not really be much of a help.

But to her surprise, they all stood up from where they were sitting and went to her side to hug her. Their action brought an immediate relief in her chest, and the tears she tried so hard from falling finally gave in.

She could not believe she was crying again. It was like she hd already cried enough that could last her for years.

"Thank you so much for telling us, Maykha," Hermione said, resting her head on Maykha's shoulder.

"You're a bloody idiot, you know that?" Ron said, "You did not have to bottle everything alone. What are we here for if not to have each other's backs?"

"Ron's right, Maykha," Harry said, "We would not judge you whatever the circumstances are. I mean, have you seen the things I've put you all through just for being me?"

They chuckled at what the boy said, making the atmosphere a bit lighter.

Her heart skipped a beat when she felt someone gripping her hand, and she turned to see Neville. He held and caressed the back of her hand with his thumb gently, so gentle that it made her feel even better.

"Nothing changed," Neville said, "You're still the Maykha we knew. The Maykha who's not afraid of Snape, Maykha who'd rather stay with her friend than satisfy her thirst for adventure, the Maykha who did not hesitate to go inside the chamber of secrets to save a friend. You're still you, Maykha."

They fell silent. Neville was the one in their group that barely had something to say about certain matters, his shy and quiet demeanor had often stopped him from speaking or saying anything due to his fear of not being heard. But his words comforted Maykha like a warm blanket. He told her the words she had wanted to hear, a reassurance that she was still her. She needed an anchor that would keep her on her feet as Maykha, and the words her friends had said were enough to finally herself back.

"Thank you guys, really," Maykha said. Her vision had become blurred because of the tears that were rushing out of her eyes.

...

Maykha and Neville were the ones left after their friends had retreated back into their dormitories. Harry and Ron still wanted to stay behind, but Hermione pulled them by their ears and forced them to go to sleep before winking knowingly at Maykha. She did not understand what her friend wanted to do, but she just left it at that.

The fire in the fireplace felt comfortable, more comfortable than before. The two sat on a single sofa in silence with nothing but the flicker of the fireplace to fill in the silence.

It was only broken by Neville's sudden clearing of throat.

"D-don't you wanna sleep first?"

"No," she answered, "I feel like a lot happened today, and I wanted to take them in first."

"I see," Neville nodded.

Then they were back in silence once again, but it did not bother Maykha. She welcomed it, as a matter of fact. It felt like she barely had a time with Neville alone, making her crave for his presence. There was something about him that was so comforting. He was not the strongest, nor the bravest, but she felt most secure whenever he was around.

Without a single thought, her body moved and leaned her head on the boy's shoulder before she could even think. She felt the boy flinch making her laugh a little.

"You know," Nevill started, bringing her attention to what he was about to say, "I haven't really talked about my parents to any of my friends yet."

"You don't have to if you don't want."

Neville shook his head, "Seeing you being so brave as you opened up earlier made me want to do it as well. At least bit by bit. Would you listen?"

"Of course, Nevy. That goes without saying."

The boy smiled, "My parents were two of the most well respected aurors of their time. They were brave, fearless, and talented. I am nothing like them, and that's probably why Gran was always at the end of her wits in making me want to follow their footsteps. But I can't. Remember when I told you wanted to be sorted into Hufflepuff? It's because I thought me being in Gryffindor would make our house look like a joke."

"Neville, that's not true!" She disagreed.

"I don't know, Maykha. I was so used to having that idea, and I was okay with it. I was fine with being the coward Neville just until recently," he gave her a knowing look, one that made her heart beat as if a bludger was being rouge inside.

Not knowing what to respond, Maykha averted her eyes and tried to change the topic, "S-so, where are your parents now? I-if you don't mind me asking."

Maykha noticed the sudden change in his expression.

"They became unable to raise me."

"Why?"

"During the first wizarding war, when the Dark Lord's power was at its peak, my parents were one of the people who fought against him. But then, death eaters, the Dark Lord's loyal followers, infiltrated our home and tortured my parents to insanity. They now permanently reside at St. Mungo's, and we visit them every holidays and my birthday."

Maykha had known how evil the Dark Lord was because of what he had done to Harry and his parents. So, it surprised her at how he managed to be more evil each year she get to know his doings.

Neville had gone through so much, so much that Maykha could not quite grasp it inside her head.

"You are brave, Neville," Maykha only said, interlocking her fingers with his, and gripping his hands tightly. Hoping it would convey her message to him.

"You are the only one who say that," he chuckled.

"Because I see you. You laugh, you study, you play like you did not carry a story like this. If that is not bravery, then I don't know what is."

"Thank you," Neville said, looking at her as if his eyes were telling something she could not quite get a grasp of.

"No, thank you," she said, "For trusting me with your story. I'm sure your parents are proud of you. The least we can do now is to make sure their sacrifices were not in vain."