Little Brave Hearts || Neville Longbottom

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"My life has been a lie! I feel so betrayed!" Maykha groaned the moment her bottom touched her favourite armchair in the common room after serving their detention that night. "All along I thought unicorn blood was rainbow, not silver!"

"Seriously, Maykha?" Ron snorted. "After all we've been through, that's what you're thinking about?"

"Hush, Ron," said Hermione, sitting next to Maykha.

"Why are you always scolding me?" Ron complained but he was met with no response from Hermione, too tired to even speak a word.

The night had been too long, it felt like a lot of thing happened inside the forest, and Maykha swore she had walked enough for a whole week.

As the others all took their own seats, fatigue enveloped their bodies as silences fell into the whole room.

"We had it wrong, guys," Harry said, breaking the silence. "Snape doesn't want the stone for himself."

"What?"

The boy stood up and walked back and forth in front of his friends nervously, "Don't you understand? Snape wants the stone for You-Know-who for him to be alive again! For him to...for him to kill me."

The four looked at each other worriedly. Worried that their friend was indeed in danger, worried that the Dark Lord would be successful in defeating Harry this time.

Maykha shuddered yet tried to shake off the terrifying thought as she also stood up and walked towards Harry. She pinched Harry's cheeks and looked directly into his eyes.

"If I remember the story right, you defeated him when you were just a baby, Harry. Now, you know how to properly defend yourself, and," Maykha looked at their friends, "You have us. You're not alone."

It was rare for Maykha to be serious, but whenever she was, it seemed like she knew the exact words to say to make other people feel better, it was what Harry had felt as he heard her words. After they came back from their detention, his shoulders suddenly felt heavy with fear and anxiety. He had seen how horrifying the creature who hurt the unicorn looked like, and he could only hope not to see it again.

But what Maykha said was right, he was no longer alone. He had friends to support him, aid him, and stand with him in any danger that would come their way.

As Maykha pulled him into a hug, the other three stood up too to do the same, he could ask for nothing more than to protect the little happiness he felt during that moment.

"Thank you," he said, trying to fight the tears from pooling in the corner of his eyes.

"Maykha's right, Harry. You have nothing to be afraid of, though, I might not be the best person to say that to you," Neville said followed by a low chuckle that made Maykha smile proudly. It was her first time hearing the boy comforting his friends aside from her and it was quite nice.

"Wait guys, think we're forgetting something," Hermione said, letting go of the hug. "Who's that one wizard You-know-who is afraid of the most?"

The four looked at her with questioning eyes and she immediately got the hint that they have no idea what she was talking about. "Dumbledore! So you have nothing to worry about, Harry, as long as Dumbledore is here, you're safe."

As they all unclasped from the hug, Neville then snatched Maykha's hand causing her to almost jump in surprise. Before she could even ask why he did that, he simply wiped her palms using the sleeves of his jumper as if there was a dirt on it.

"Are my hands dirty?"

"No, but something dirty touched it, I'm just cleaning it."

...

Waking up had proven to be tedious task for Maykha to do the next morning. Her legs became sore and the hours of sleep she had were not enough to make her feel as though she really had rested.

Every step of the stairs felt like there was needles prickling on her legs making her groan as she went down to their common room. It was the very reason as to why she never liked physical activities that involved running and walking beyond her limitation, and their detention in the Forbidden Forest seemed to fit into that category perfectly.

Finally reaching the common room after what seemed to be a decade, Maykha was met with Harry who was busy reading something on a sofa to notice her presence. She sat next to him and looked at the book in his hands and saw that it was the children's book she gave him as a Christmas gift.

Harry finally glanced up and she greeted him with a smile, "Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning, Maykha. Thanks for this, by the way," he said, raising the book a bit.

"You're welcome, I'm glad you liked it."

"I love it," he said, but Maykha noticed a little sadness from his eyes, "You know, I've always wanted one of these. My cousin, Dudley, grew up with my aunt reading books like this to him and I would often feel jealous, because I've never had that. I've never had books, and I've never had a mother to tell me stories."

Harry spoke as if he got used to the feeling from long ago, yet his eyes told her the pain he tried to hard to hide from the other kids. He got back to reading, but Maykha felt her heart ached for the kind of childhood her friend went through. She could not even imagine being in that same situation.

Wanting to do something for her friend, she snatched the book out of his hands.

"Hey," Harry complained.

"Shh! Let me read this for you while we wait for the others," Maykha said, "Good for you, I am quite talented at storytelling. My mum said so, and in my mum I trust."