human again / hp.

Chapter 54

The Gryffindor common room was a far cry from its usual cozy chaos. Tonight, the air was thick with unease, and even the comforting crackle of the fire seemed subdued. Its flickering light painted nervous shadows on the walls and over the faces of pajama-clad students clustered together. Whispers rippled through the room like the undercurrent of a storm, dying down only when Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze swept over us. Her tartan robe swished with every purposeful movement, her presence commanding and unyielding as she stood before the hearth.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, seeking some semblance of warmth against the cold knot of fear lodged deep inside. The words everyone was too afraid to speak out loud were screaming in my mind

Sirius Black has been in our Common Room.

The mere thought of him prowling these corridors, slipping past enchanted locks and magical barriers, sent a shiver crawling down my spine. My eyes darted to the heavy oak door of the common room as though expecting it to burst open at any moment.

A loud voice broke through my swirling thoughts, and I realized Ron was speaking, his tone high-pitched and edged with frustration.

"That's preposterous, Weasley," Professor McGonagall snapped, her crisp Scottish accent cutting through the murmurs like a blade. Her lips were drawn into a tight line, and her glare was enough to make even the boldest Gryffindor wilt. "How could Sirius Black possibly have got through the portrait hole?"

Ron's hand flew up in a wild gesture, his face still pale from whatever had transpired earlier. His voice shook with a mixture of fear and indignation. "I don't know how he got in! I was a bit busy dodging his knife!"

The room erupted into hushed gasps and murmurs, the students exchanging wide-eyed glances. My own heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively moved a little closer to the group. Ron's face was flushed with anger, but the tremor in his hands betrayed how rattled he truly was. He threw a sharp glare at Hermione, who stood nearby with her arms crossed, looking utterly unimpressed.

Crookshanks, Hermione's ever-dignified cat, chose that moment to slink through the sea of feet and curl lazily around Ron's legs. The sight of the ginger cat only seemed to worsen Ron's temper.

"And this bloody cat ate my rat!" he exploded, his voice cracking with frustration as he jabbed a finger toward the offending feline.

"That's a lie!" Hermione shot back, straightening to her full height. Her cheeks were pink with indignation as she squared her shoulders, her voice rising over the low hum of conversation.

"It is not, and you bloody well know it!" Ron countered, his anger flaring like a spark catching fire.

"Silence!" McGonagall's voice sliced through the argument, as sharp and precise as the crack of a whip. The room fell deathly silent, save for the occasional pop from the fire. Her gaze swept over us, daring anyone to speak out of turn.

All eyes turned as McGonagall pivoted to face Sir Cadogan, whose portrait hung prominently beside the entrance. The absurd little knight stood proudly in his frame, his tiny chest puffed out as he adjusted his sword with an air of self-importance.

"Sir Cadogan," McGonagall began, her voice carrying the weight of mounting irritation, "is it possible that you let a mysterious man enter Gryffindor Tower tonight?"

Sir Cadogan tilted his chin up haughtily. "Certainly, good lady!" he declared, as if he had accomplished some grand feat. "He had the password. Had the whole week's, in fact. On a little piece of paper!"

The collective intake of breath that followed was almost audible. A terrible weight settled over the room as realization dawned. My stomach twisted with dread as my gaze shifted, along with everyone else's, to Neville Longbottom.

McGonagall's expression hardened further as her focus narrowed on the now visibly trembling boy. "Which abysmally foolish person wrote down the passwords and then proceeded to lose them?" she demanded, her voice steely.

Neville's shoulders slumped under the weight of the question, and his round face burned scarlet. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he avoided the accusing eyes around him. Finally, in a small, quivering voice, he admitted, "I'm afraid I did, ma'am."

My heart ached at the sight of him standing there, looking utterly defeated. I knew Neville wasn't careless on purpose—he just struggled so much to keep up. I remembered when he'd shown me the parchment, his face so earnest as he explained that it was his way of making sure he didn't forget. That innocent trust now felt as fragile as the piece of parchment he'd carried.

McGonagall's stern expression softened for the briefest of moments, but her tone remained firm as she addressed the rest of us. "While we know Sirius Black is gone tonight, I think you can safely assume he will, at some future time, attempt to return," she said, her voice measured. "Let me be clear. You are not to move about the castle alone. And you are not to write down the password! Understood?"

A chorus of murmured agreement swept through the room, and I caught Neville's defeated expression as he nodded along with everyone else. He stared down at his feet, avoiding the sea of judgmental stares.

"Very well then," McGonagall concluded, her tartan robe swirling as she turned toward the door. "Go to bed."

The room didn't immediately disperse. Students lingered, whispering in clusters, their voices tinged with disbelief and fear. My eyes found Neville again, standing off to the side, his hands twisting nervously. His embarrassment was plain as day, and I wanted to tell him it would be okay—but the words stuck in my throat.

Finally, as the crowd began to thin, I crossed the room toward him. He didn't notice me at first, his gaze still fixed on the floor.

"Neville," I said softly, drawing his attention.

He looked up, startled. "Oh. Hi, Celeste." His voice was quiet, almost timid.

"You okay?" I asked gently, even though the answer was obvious.

He gave a half-hearted shrug. "I didn't mean for this to happen," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I thought... I thought it was safer, you know? To write them down. Just in case I forgot."

I glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. Most of the students were heading for the dormitories now, their whispers fading as they disappeared up the stairs. Lowering my voice, I said, "I don't think anyone's blaming you, Neville. It was an honest mistake."

He shook his head miserably. "You're just being nice," he mumbled. "McGonagall probably thinks I'm the biggest idiot in Gryffindor. Everyone does."

"That's not true," I said firmly, stepping closer. "Neville, you're one of the bravest people I know."

His round eyes blinked up at me, wide with disbelief. "Brave? Me?"

"Yes, you," I insisted. "You stood up to us in first year, remember? And tonight, you owned up to losing the passwords. Most people wouldn't have had the guts to do that."

A flicker of hope sparked in his eyes, and a hesitant smile crept onto his face. "Thanks, Celeste," he said softly.

"Anytime," I replied, returning the smile.

After a beat, I added with a teasing lilt, "So, lesson learned? No more writing down passwords."

Neville chuckled lightly, the sound relieving some of the tension in the room. "Yeah. Definitely not."

"Good," I said with mock seriousness, giving his arm a gentle pat. "Now, let's get to bed before McGonagall comes back and decides to dock more points."

With a small laugh, Neville nodded, and together we headed for the stairs. As we climbed, I couldn't help but glance back at the now-empty common room. The shadows danced on the walls, the fire casting a warm glow that felt out of place given the events of the night. The thought of Sirius Black being so close lingered, unsettling and surreal.

But as I looked at Neville walking beside me, his shoulders a little straighter now, I felt a strange comfort. Courage, I realized, didn't always roar. Sometimes, it was as quiet as Neville admitting his mistake—and facing the consequences with his head held high.