The Chosen One [#Wattys2016]

READY FOR CHRISTMAS

October departed to make way for November, which moved to December with much change in the weather. Snow covered the Hogwarts grounds and you couldn't go anywhere without being pelted with snowballs. A full blown prank war ensued between the Weasley twins and Harry, and Ron, which Hermione refused to take part into. It became a three-way war when Avaline got mishit with snowballs and buckets of snow that Harry had bewitched. Muttering furiously under her breath, a soaked Avaline wowed revenge, much to Neville's dismay. Albeit hesitantly, Neville joined in to help her, with the result that the curtains in the boys dormitory now belted obnoxious Muggle songs every morning at sunrise, much to the displeasure of its residents. However, Neville felt that this was a good pretext of waking up in time for class.

Professor Moody had taken classes twice since Halloween as Professor Lupin had fallen ill again. When Neville shared his worries with the boys, Harry shrugged off his concerns as nothing but wouldn't meet his eye. Hermione, Jennifer and Avaline, though, took a different view.

"Have none of you noticed when he gets sick?" Hermione said in reply to Neville. They were sat in the library, finishing their Potions essay.

"No, I haven't," Neville replied.

"Well, he gets sick every month, so it does seem kind of strange," Avaline said, while she looked around for a spare bit of parchment. Having located it under Neville's book, she pulled it to herself and started writing.

"Always on the full moon," Jennifer said. Hermione nodded.

"Whoa!" Avaline exclaimed, "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"That clears everything," Neville mumbled.

"Yes!" both Hermione and Jennifer said.

"What in the blazes are you talking about?" Neville said. He was starting to wonder why he hung out with these girls.

"They think that Professor Lupin is a werewolf," Avaline sighed.

Neville stared at them for a full minute before he burst out laughing. Hermione looked livid.

"You girls are smart, but this is just – "he chuckled.

"What?" Hermione said.

"Nothing," he said and suddenly quietened when he saw Hermione's expression.

"How else can you explain it? I went to see him when he was supposed to be sick and he wasn't in the hospital wing. Nor was he in his quarters. He gets sick every month during the full moon and – "

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, Hermione," Neville said and for the next forty minutes, he didn't say a word at all.

Neville fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. He wondered what could have woken him up at such an ungodly hour when a loud raspberry blew near his right ear. Shrieking like a banshee, Neville fell off the bed and the rest of the dormitory woke.

"Are you alright, Neville?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, sorry," Neville apologised. Cursing Peeves, he picked himself and the blanket up from the cold floor. He rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now that he was awake, to ignore the howling winds outside. The pounding of the winds against the castle walls, the clattering of windows, the distant creaking of the trees, and the whoosh of the wind through the Forbidden Forest gave an eerie touch to the ancient castle. He felt like a soon-to-die character of a Muggle horror film that Hermione and Avaline had discussed yesterday while they argued.