friends, never ememies ; NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

FIFTY-ONE

SCOTLAND, HOGWARTS SCHOOL.        GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM.

It was later that day and y/n had returned back into the red and yellow common room she spent the majority of her time in, along with Harry and Ron, seated just in front of the fireplace, letting the fires warmth beam at their skin. Y/n sat on the armchair as Ron took up the whole sofa, Hermione and Harry seated on the carpet. The specked boy reading a textbook he'd burrowed and the bushy haired girl of course had her nose stuck in the daily prophet.

"I have to admit, I thought I was going to miss that last one, I hope Cormac isn't taking it too hard," Ron smugly smiled, looking to Hermione until Harry crawled over to her, pointing to something inside of his nearly-new potions book.

"Have you ever heard of this spell, Sectumsempra?" Harry asked, causing Hermione to snap, her paper folding.

"No I haven't, and if you had a shred of self-respect you'd hand that book in," She told Harry, watching him sulk back into his little ball, back to reading his book, Hermione doing the same, reading her newspaper.

"Not bloody likely, he's top of the class, he's even better than you Hermione," Ron announced, looking down to Harrys mop of raven hair. "Slughorn thinks he's a genius," Ron added, his smile vanished when Hermione looked up towards the ginger boy. "What?" He asked, Hermione turned from Ron to Harry, still glued into his book.

"I'd like to know whose that book was, let's have a look shall we?" Hermione asked, putting down her newspaper and held out her arm, to which Harry shuffled away, shutting his book instantly.

"No," Harry spoke, Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"No? Why not?" Hermione asked, Harry stood up, so Hermione stood up, following after him

"The binding is fragile," Harry announced, stepping away from Hermione.

"The binding is fragile?" Hermione asked, until Ginny slipped the book out of his grip opening up the first page to which Hermione smirked.

"Who's the half-blood prince?" Ginny asked, turning to Harry, his head down low in defeat.

"Who?" Hermione asked, looking to Ginny for an answer.

"Says it right here, the half-blood prince," Ginny told her friend, closing the book again and passed it over to a flustered Harry, scratching the back of his ear before he wondered off to a desk alone to study the book more.

"That's what I call the Power of women, Hazzard," y/n told her brother, who scowled at her, flicking pages once more, watching as Hermione took off to a desk to write it down.

Neville came stumbling down the stairs in his blue knitted cardigan and crème trousers, his eyes fixed on a certain person, y/n seemed to be the only person that noticed this as not too long ago they were seated in the great hall, seemingly quiet but aware of each others presence, their hands frequently brushed each others and he seemed normal, now his face grew a sickly white than his already pale, delicately freckled skin.

"Nev, you alright?" y/n trudged to where Neville at the staircase, dreamily googling towards a pack of girls chatting at a table.