Neville smiled to himself as he walked, alone, to the Hogshead bar. His grandmother, one person that mattered most to him, accept that he was gay. Neville felt light, as if he was walking on air. He had never felt happier.
"Hey Neville!" Dean Thomas called to him. Neville noticed Lavender leaning close to Dean, who continued to full away.
"Hi, Dean. Lavender." All three of them filed into the Hogshead. They seemed to be the first to arrive. Neville sat before Harry, giving him a small smile. After they had taken seats more people filtered in, until the bars was packed full.
"A couple of people?" Neville heard Harry whisper to Hermione, "A couple of people?!"
"Yes, well, the idea was quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull some more chairs?"
Harry watched as the large chattering group. Neville saw his horiffied expression.
"Hi, Harry," Neville smiled at him, only to receive a pained grimace. The boy made to approach the other but that's when Hermione stood.
"Well...erm... well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea -- I mean" her and Harry exchanged a look, Harry glared at her, "I had the idea, that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts and I mean really study it. Not the rubbish Umbridge is doing with us." Hermione started to sound more confident. "Because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts. Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.
Hermione stopped and glanced at Harry before continuing, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing real spells--"
"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" Said a boy seated next to Ginny.
"Of course I do," Hermione replied at once. "But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because...because..." Hermione took a deep breath and finished "Because Lord Voldemort is back."
The reaction was immediate and predictable. Someone shrieked in the back. Even Neville let out an odd help, trying to pretend it was a cough. He looked at Harry, all eyes were trained on the boy.
"Well... That's the plan, anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to--"
"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" Said a blonde boy in a aggressive voice.
"Well Dumbledore believes it--" Hermione began.
"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said the boy, nodding at Harry.
"Who are you?" Said Ron, rudely.
"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "And I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."
"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's not what this meeting was suppose to be about--"
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" He repeated looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."
The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Even the barman was watching. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag, making it steadily dirtier.
Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to hog warts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know—"
"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said. Neville could see his face turning frustrated. His heart reached out for the boy across from him. Harry had been through so much, he didn't deserve this. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."
Harry glared at Hermione again. He crossed his arms, seeming to wait for them to stand and walk out in a herd from the bar. But none of them left their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continued to gaze intently at Harry.
"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So...like I was saying...if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to—"
"Is it true," interrupted a girl with a long plait down her back, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus"
There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.
"Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.
"A corporeal Patronus?"
The phrase seemed to mean something to Harry as Neville saw him furrow his brows.
"Er—you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" He asked.
The girl smiled.
"She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So—is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Blimey, Harry!" Said Lee Jordan, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"
"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."
"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry, and a couple of people laughed. Neville saw a veiled witch sitting alone shifted very slightly in her seat.
"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."
"Er— yeah, I did, year," said Harry.
Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks an Lavender Brown said "Wow!" Softly. Harry was blushing.
"And in our first year," Neville chimed in, speaking to the group at large, "he saved that Philological Stone—"
"Philosopher's," hissed Hermione.
"Yes, that— from You-Know-Who," finished Neville, smiling at Harry. "Not to mention all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year— getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromanta and things..." There was a murmur if impressed agreement around the table.
•••
It had been agreed that they would start to learn defense once they found a place. Neville found himself excited. Never being included in anything. Finally having his most weighing imperfection off his chest, to at least his grandmother, had made him feel a big more confident.
"Hey, Harry!" Neville called to him as Harry walked by him. Harry started, shoving his hands in his pants.
"Hey, Neville. How are you?" Harry gave the other boy a small smile. Neville felt faint, his heart fluttered.
"I just wanted to tell you I'm proud of you. Stay strong," Neville stood from his chair. As he walked past Harry, he gripped his shoulder. Harry shuddered and Neville smiled at him, walking to the dormitory steps.
••••••••
Some taken from book five Order of the Phoenix by JK Rowling.
