Neville Longbottom and The Boy Who Lived

Chapter 13: The Forbidden Forest

The morning at Hogwarts began as usual, with the Great Hall filled with students enjoying their breakfast. Neville found himself lost in thought, staring at his plate absentmindedly as he mulled over the note that had been delivered to him along with Harry and Hermione. The message was short and to the point:

Detention at eleven o'clock that night with Mr Filch in the Entrance Hall, instructed by Professor McGonagall.

Neville's mind was a whirlwind of questions and worries. Why was the detention scheduled for nighttime? And most importantly, why did it have to be with Draco Malfoy, of all people? The thought of spending hours with the sneering Slytherin made Neville's stomach churn with anxiety. At least he was with Harry and Hermione, if only they would talk to him again.
As the day progressed, Neville found himself unable to concentrate on his lessons. Even Herbology, his favorite subject, failed to hold his attention. Every plant and potion seemed to blur together as his mind wandered back to the looming detention. He couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach.

As the clock struck ten, Neville made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to distract himself with a game of Wizard's Chess, but his mind kept drifting back to the impending detention. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one dragging like a weight on Neville's shoulders.

At ten minutes to eleven, Harry and Hermione entered the common room, Neville glanced up, his gaze meeting Harry's with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Harry approached him, a serious expression etched on his face. "Neville, can we talk?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm.
Neville nodded, his heart beating a little faster as he braced himself for the conversation that was about to unfold. Harry took a seat beside him, and Hermione settled across from them, her eyes filled with concern.
"Listen, Neville," Harry began, his voice serious. "I've been meaning to talk to you about the other night."
Neville's heart sank as he anticipated what was coming next. "I already know it was a prank, Harry. It's fine," he spoke quietly, his voice tinged with resignation.
Hermione's voice cut through the air, her tone firm. "No, Neville. It wasn't a prank," she interjected, her eyes meeting Neville's with unwavering honesty.

Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to say next. "The dragon was real, Neville. But I couldn't let McGonagall know about it because Hagrid would have gotten in trouble," he explained, his words heavy with the weight of the truth he had been keeping.
Neville's eyes widened in shock, his mind struggling to process the revelation. "Real? But why didn't you tell me?" he asked, a hint of hurt creeping into his voice.
Harry reached out a hand to Neville's shoulder, his expression sincere. "I'm sorry, Neville. Thank you for warning me about Malfoy, especially knowing how hard it must have been for you to walk around the castle at night," he said,

Neville felt a lump form in his throat as he realized the depth of Harry's appreciation. "I... I just wanted to help," he mumbled, " But...Why have you been ignoring me, especially when the whole school seems to hate us?" Neville blurted out, unable to contain the question that had been eating away at him. "
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look of shock, realization dawning on them as they saw the hurt in Neville's eyes. "Neville, we had no idea you felt this way. We're truly sorry," Hermione said, her voice laced with regret.
Harry nodded in agreement, his expression filled with genuine concern. "We never meant to make you feel excluded, Neville. We're really sorry," he apologized,
Hermione reached out a hand to Neville's arm, offering a comforting squeeze. "We're here for you, Neville. Promise," she assured him, her voice filled with empathy.
"Thank you, Harry, Hermione. I appreciate it," Neville expressed, a small smile of gratitude tugging at his lips.
Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall, a sense of urgency in her tone. "We better go and meet Filch now. We don't want to be late," she reminded them, shifting the focus back to the task at hand as they prepared to face their challenges together.