Neville Longbottom: The Boy Who Lived

Classes are.... great?

I don't know what I expected from my first Defense class. Definitely not what I got. One thing I did not expect was the teacher to be as, well, jumpy. He was this really short, mousy guy. The Harry kid from the other day was in my class, and seemed to know the professor. The bell rang, and Harry sat down next to me.
"Greetings, class. I am Professor Pettigrew-" "Wormtail!" Harry called. He high-fived the red-head kid next to him. "Yes," Professor Pettigrew continued, "That was your father's childhood nickname for me, Mr.Potter. But I demand respec- OH MERLIN!" The creature in the covered cage next to him had let out a screech. "To shut this beast up, let's get to today's lesson."

Transfiguration went just as well. Harry, being a Gryffindor, was in all my classes. I could already tell that the teacher, Professor McGonagall, was going to dislike his antics. She was an old friend of Grans, so she already knew and liked me. So this class might not be so bad.

The second I entered the hall, Hermione tackled me in a hug. "How are your classes? They are so amazing aren't they? I mean, Care if Magical Creatures is amazing, we don't have anything like that in the muggle world! And Herbology? Oh, you're going to love it Neville!" Malfoy smirked, "How about we let the Chosen One get some food? He has to put up with Potter in all of his classes. He deserves a break." I heard a snort, then a snarky voice. "Am I really that bad, Malfoy?" Hermione grabbed me and Malfoy's arms. "Go away, Harry." She dragged us to the Ravenclaw table, before ranting of her excitement for her classes.