Neville Longbottom- The Boy Who Lived

Remembrall

Chapter 9- Remembrall

The first month at Hogwarts had passed in a blur. I had met every teacher so far, apart from one. I had Professor Flitwick for charms; Professor McGonagall for Transfiguration; Professor Binns for History of Magic; Professor Potter for Potions, which I hadn't got any better at; Professor Sinistra for Astronomy; Professor Sprout for Herbology, which I am quite good at and finally, Professor Quirrell, who creeps me out. The giant turban, the stutter, it is quite scary. He teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts. The teacher that I haven't yet met is Madame Hooch. It is Gryffindor's and Slytherin's first flying lesson today, which I am looking forward to. I am clumsy on the ground, but I hope that isn't the case in the air, as I want to get into the team next year. I know Gran would be proud of me then, and it would give me an excuse to get a broom. I really want a good Cleensweep, or even a Nimbus! I take a quick shower, and pull on my robes, humming to myself as I go, looking forward for our lesson after lunch, then heading down to the common room, where Hermione was waiting.

“Neville!” She exclaimed, a grin forming, from ear to ear. “I wondered when you would get up!” I blushed, but smiled back.

“At least I'm up now.” I replied happily.

“If we go to breakfast now, we can relax for a while before double potions.”

“Ok, sounds good.” I held open the portrait hole, for her to get through.

“Oh Neville, you gentleman.” Hermione said jokingly,

“For you, m'lady.” I replied, keeping up with the posh charade. Hermione burst into a fit of giggles once out of the portrait hole, to which I joined in with once I had walked out. Recovering, she asked, “Are you looking forward to Flying later?”

“Yeah!” I said enthusiastically. Her face dropped slightly. “What's wrong? Are you not looking forward to it?” I questioned, as she took control of her face again.

“I'm not very good at sports...” Hermione mumbled as if she was embarrassed. I stopped and pulled her round to face me. She looked at the floor, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Hey, look at me.” I said, but she carried on examining the floor. I reached out a finger, put it under her chin, and pulled it level with mine. “Hey, it doesn't matter, you listen to me Mione, it will be fine, you don't have to go high, and I will probably be worse than you anyway.” I tried to persuade her, and she smiled slightly.

“I like the name Mione...” She mumbled under her breath, as if she didn't want me to hear. “Thanks Neville, that means a lot, and I am sure you will be great at Quidditch.” She told me.

“Have you seen how clumsy I am?” I asked, and just to prove my point, I happened to get my foot caught on a slightly raised stone from the floor and fell onto my face. Unfortunately for Hermione, I grabbed onto her arm for support, that wasn't there, and she flopped on top of me.

“Sorry!” I squeaked, my ears going red with embarrassment. I felt Hermione shaking, she was crying! “Mione? You okay?” She didn't answer. I flipped over and looked at her face and breathed a sigh of relief. She was crying. Of laughter. Seeing my relief, she burst out laughing, which started me off. We just sat there, laughing, with tears rolling out of our eyes. “I- don't- think- I- have- ever- laughed- this- hard!” I exclaimed, taking a breath after each word.

“Me- neither!” Hermione replied, still laughing. She looked down at her watch, “Oh No!” She stopped laughing at once.

“What? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, I'm fine, we only have 5 minutes before Potions starts!”

“Shall we grab a bit of toast, then run down to Potions?” She nodded, we jumped up and dashed down to the Great Hall for a quick breakfast.