Lovingly, not yours.

Chapter 10

"You made me rethink what a friend is, so much that I don't remember ever being one."

Chapter 10: "Flying lesson with snakes pt2."

What emotions pass through you when you realise that you were too caught up in yourself to notice the danger around you?

Dread. Dread is what filled Odele when she heard the commotion around Neville. She had briefly heard Madam Hooch yell at someone, a boy specifically but she didn't pay much mind thinking that it must be one of the slytherins who were always up to no good.

WHAM -- a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

The thud drew her attention and she was pale when she realised who it was. A scream of his name escaped her lips as she zoomed with the broom to the direction, landing just inches above the ground near him. The fast manoeuvre caught Madam Hooch's eye as well as the others.

She got off her broom and discarded the broom without a second thought and knelt beside her friend, "Neville!" Her voice was raspy with how hard she'd screamed and also that she was almost whispering it. She was worried sick for the boy. While there was a tiny voice in her mind blaming herself for not taking care of Neville knowing he wasn't much experienced with brooms, or flying in general, she naively thought that since she did it he could as well. The innocence of a 11 year old is truly a curse as much as it was a blessing.

Madam Hooch broke her gaze off Odele and was bending over Neville, her face as white as his with the assessment of his injuries.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy -- it's all right, up you get." Odele looked on worriedly and was hovering near the two of them, wanting to be of any help.

Madam Hooch turned to the rest of the class, "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Odele apologetically looked at her teacher and asked, "May I join you as well, Madam?" To which the elder lady just gave a gruff nod. Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him, and Odele in tow. 

There was something tense bout the way the little girl carried herself that seemed to convey more than distress about her friend being injured that made Madam Hooch allow her to follow them both. The sight was something she was fairly used to, students being injured and their friends following, the worst case were the Hufflepuffs always. They trailed her like ducklings following their mumma and with the addled guilty faces.

Odele's mind that always ran faster than any train she knew was slowly fading away. Absurdly enough, she felt the cool cobblestones under her feet as they walked to the first floor to the Hospital Wing.

She stood mindlessly by the bedside of Neville, watching Madam Pompfrey, the matron of the hospital was a stout woman with a kind but no-nonsense demeanor as she treated Neville efficiently but sternly asked for Odele to leave once he was feeling sleepy after the medicine to allow him to rest.

The little girl had never been in the position to give comfort to someone, it was always the other way around as her mother would soothe her after her fights with her brother. And Odele was a strange skeptic girl, who thought her words over and over before she spoke, because doing so otherwise had not made her feel so good.

She'd recalled the one time she spoke harshly to her mother, "I said I don't want to eat! Why do you not hear me?!" She'd yell after her mother was coaxing her to eat dinner rather than reading Jane Eyre that she'd been lost in since lunch. She remembered the exact image of how her mother's eyes widened and then softened with disappointment and hurt, and that was not something she liked at all. She felt bad. And after a talk with her father, who reprimanded her to never speak to his wife, aka her mother ever like that.

That was the first time she realised the power words have, and she found herself looking back onto every conversation she could recall and understood that if words can make someone so happy as to cry, they can also make someone feel so bad that their tears hide red behind their warm face.

"I am sorry, Neville..." She spoke with a low voice as she looked down to her skirt, avoiding his injured arm. She felt her heart being heavy and yet Neville replied with a soft smile and a gentle chuckle,

"Oh why're you apologising? It was my fault-"

Odele found herself being angry again at his statement, "If it wasn't my fault, neither was it yours! You just didn't know and it was your very first time on the broom, it's obvious you'd be terrified. And there's nothing wrong with that."

The silence that followed and the disbelief mixed with confusion on Neville's soft features made her pursue her lips together and excuse herself. Way to ruin what you learnt, Odele. Not everyone can feel what you feel and you certainly can never make feel it, unless and until they realise it themselves. It's stupid otherwise.

 Hi, thank you for reading. I'd love to read your thoughts on it and please drop a like as well. Much appreciated! Thank you!

Author's note: 

I sincerely apologise for the long gap and moreso as it was uninformed. I had my semester end examinations and I was stuck in a writer's block for the period as well. Everytime I'd write, I'd hate it and overtime it just became heavy on my heart, the initial thoughts that I started it with faded and it felt like a chore, which I should absolutely apologise for but I hope with 2025, I will set a routine as a promise to myself and you all as well. 

Thank you so much, really it means a lot to me. Even a single read, comment and like goes a long way, but yes, you aren't obliged to do so this is just me expressing my gratitude as we come to chapter 10.