It was quite touching, really, even if they had found each other by being
manipulated by Harry and Hermione.
He went down to breakfast, finding Hedwig waiting for him on Ron’s shoulder.
“Where’ve you been?” Ron wanted to know.
“The hospital wing.”
“You okay?”
“Not for me. I was visiting. At least, I was going to...” as he spoke, he took the parchment from
Hedwig and gave her some bacon before she flew off to the Owlery. “But Viktor Krum was
there, so I didn’t go in.”
“Viktor!” Hermione said with surprise. Ron looked equally surprised. Harry lowered his voice.
“Told you the plan worked, didn’t I? They must have gotten even closer after we left the Three
Broomsticks with the elves. He was up there sitting by her bedside, talking to her in Bulgarian.
He kissed her before he left.”
“He kissed her!” Hermione was indignant.
“On the forehead.”
“Hermione,” Ron hissed at her. “What are you getting upset for? You wanted to be rid of him!”
“Yes, but he was supposed to break up with me, not cheat on me! Technically this still makes
me his girlfriend, and now if anyone finds out he’s visiting her and kissing her in her coma, I look
like a stupid little prat, ignorant of what he’s doing behind my back...”
“Who cares?” Ron insisted. “If you broke up with him now, he probably wouldn’t stalk you or
anything, right? He’s moved on.” Hermione grimaced at Ron, unwilling to admit he was right.
Harry thought she might be thinking about the Rita Skeeter article from Witch Weekly that had
run during the Triwizard Tournament, depicting her as some sort of “scarlet woman” (Ron’s
words) toying with the affections of both Krum and Harry. The worst thing about the article
(even worse than the howlers she received in the owl post) was that Snape read it aloud in
class, causing the Slytherins to roar and Hermione to turn beet red and look like she wanted to
crawl into her cauldron and liquefy, becoming part of her potion. Somehow, Harry didn’t think
Snape would refrain from doing it again, even though he and Harry had developed a new kind
of relationship. He still seemed determined to show nothing but contempt and severity to any
students not in Slytherin, especially when other Slytherins were around.
“I don’t want my private life to wind up in the press again,” she mumbled, eating her porridge.
Harry took a bite of toast and unrolled the letter Hedwig had delivered to him. Maybe he could
change the subject. He hadn’t expected Hermione to react this way; much of the time, she
didn’t seem to care what other people thought.
“It’s from Dudley,” he told Ron and Hermione, relieved that it would be something unrelated to
the wizarding world, to take his mind off his troubles. It was written on lined paper clearly torn
from one of Dudley’s notebooks.
“Dear Harry,
“It’s been a while since you wrote. I had this letter ready for you for the last week! Next time,
write sooner, okay?
“--Dudley”
Harry set that piece of paper aside, feeling vaguely guilty for having neglected writing Dudley for
so long; he could only write back when Hedwig showed up, after all. He’d finally written an
innocuous letter about being captain of the dueling club. Harry read the letter now that Dudley
had been waiting to send.
“Dear Harry,
“Have you heard about the Westminster tube station? I wasn’t sure if that kind of news would
get to you where you are. Bloody disaster! Completely blown up! I say either IRA or
Pakistanis. Or maybe someone else. I don’t actually know. Could be those crazies who were
sending tear gas into the Tokyo subways, who knows? Maybe they’re just going to target
underground trains around the world!
“Anyway, the really weird thing is that the word POTTER was on the wall in the station, in
green, just like your eyes! How weird is that? Did I already say it was weird? Okay, but you
have to admit, it really is! I wonder why someone put POTTER on the wall like that? Probably
every person in England named Potter is wondering, too.
“Anyhow, we’ve given up on mice in biology class and we’re using rats in the mazes now.
Bigger brains. We all have these white rats with pink eyes and ears and tails. I think they’re
albinos. My roommate and I keep ours in the same cage in our room. I think his is pregnant and
mine did the deed with her. Does that mean I’ll be a grandpa? Ha ha!
“That Sneakoscope thing has been quiet lately, so either it’s broken or my roommate isn’t
stealing from me. Could be some other prat, I suppose. I’m trying to get up the nerve to ask
Julia out for Valentine’s Day. I’ve lost forty-five pounds since school started! I think she’s
noticed. I hope so. Wish me luck!
“Dudley”
Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione. He really did not need to be reminded of Westminster.
He thought about it all the time. They looked pityingly at him, not saying anything.
They finished breakfast and went to class. Each class blurred into the next for Harry; the week
passed almost without his noticing, and Sunday rolled around again, with Dueling Club. There
were four more new people: Neville, Parvati and Padma Patil and Susan Bones, from
Hufflepuff.
Both Harry and Hermione dueled against Parvati, Padma and Susan, winning against all three of
them. Of the new people, Ginny only dueled Neville and Padma, winning both duels. Ron and
Malfoy only beat Padma and Susan; when each of them was dueling Parvati, they looked
somewhat distracted by her. Malfoy seemed to be swallowing a lot and moving somewhat
slowly. Ron appeared to be looking straight into her eyes as if mesmerized, and when his wand
went flying out of his hand and he was hurled backward, it was as though he were expecting it,
even waiting anxiously for it. After the vote went to Parvati, Ron and Parvati retreated to the
circle perimeter again, smiling at each other, speaking in low tones. Harry saw Parvati cover her
mouth, as though Ron had said something that made her laugh. Then he saw Hermione’s face;
she was watching Ron and Parvati too, frowning. Hermione had not voted for Parvati, despite
the fact that she had disarmed Ron.
When he was dueling Neville, on the other hand, Ron did not seem to expect he would lose. He
was quite nonchalant about his attack, and when Neville dodged his disarming charm and sent
the same back at Ron, Ron knocked over a half-dozen club members and staggered to his feet,
looking dazed, staring at Neville as though he’d never seen him before. Neville smiled at him,
but Ron was definitely not smiling back.
At the end of the club meeting, Neville and Parvati had done the best of the new members, with
only four losses each. Harry smiled at Neville and waved as he and Ron and Hermione left the
Great Hall; dinner would not start for almost two hours, so they had planned to visit Hagrid.
Ron looked back at Parvati with her sister Padma; suddenly, they didn’t seem so identical,
Harry thought.
He and Ron and Hermione were in the entrance hall, putting on the cloaks they’d brought with
them, when Neville ran out of the Great Hall and called to Ginny. She stopped; she had been
about to climb the marble stairs.
“Ginny!” he said again. “Would you--would you like to go for a walk before dinner?” She
looked dumbfounded. Harry saw Malfoy standing at the head of the stairs leading down to the
dungeons. Ginny turned her head in his direction for a moment, then back to Neville, looking
confused.
“Oh, um, all right,” she stammered. “But I don’t have my cloak...”
“Neither do I. Let’s go get them, and then we can have a short walk...”
Ginny nodded, following him up the steps. She looked over her shoulder at Malfoy for a
moment, raising her eyebrows in a helpless way. Malfoy scowled, then descended the stairs.
Ron was watching Ginny and Neville disappear up the stairs, also frowning. He didn’t appear to
have taken any notice of Malfoy. Hermione hit Ron on the arm playfully.
“She’s almost fifteen, you know,” she reminded him. “And Neville’s harmless. He spent the
entire Yule Ball stepping on her feet. You didn’t object to her going out with him then...”
“That was different. The whole school was there.” He was still frowning. Harry and Hermione
hustled him out the front door and into the snow, laughing.
“Let’s see, will you let her start dating when she’s--twenty?” Hermione made a snowball
quickly and tossed it at Ron. He didn’t duck in time, getting an ear full of frosty coldness.
“Hey!” Ron complained.
“Twenty-five?” suggested Harry, throwing his own snowball that hit Ron in the arm.
“Thirty?”
“Forty?”
With each suggestion, Harry and Hermione threw a snowball at Ron, laughing. He had started
fighting back, and the three of them were soon exchanging fire randomly, Harry aiming at each
of them, Hermione taking turns throwing at Harry and Ron, Ron fighting back against the two of
them. They somehow managed to get down to Hagrid’s cabin in the midst of the traveling
snowball fight, laughing uproariously the whole time. (By the time they reached the cabin,
Ginny’s potential dating age had become three-hundred and seventy.)
Hagrid was glad to see them. Harry was last to enter the cabin, following Ron and Hermione.
Before he did so, he felt the urge to turn around.
Ginny and Neville were walking together by the edge of the lake, not touching. He could see
their lips moving, their breaths were white smoky clouds punctuating the dusk. He found himself
focusing on Ginny in particular, the way her hair spilled over her collar, the gold and red looking
russet and chestnut in the dim light, her pale face inscrutable at a distance. Neville was a few
inches taller than her--taller than me now, Harry realized, since he and Ginny were the same
height. Ginny stumbled momentarily; her boot went deeper into a drift than she expected, it
seemed, and Neville put his hand on her arm, helping her, and after that they walked with her
arm linked in his.
“Harry!” Hagrid called to him from the fire. “Close the bloody door!” Harry reluctantly did so,
watching Neville and Ginny walk arm in arm around the lake through a slowly shrinking opening,
until he had finally closed it all the way. But as he sat in Hagrid’s cabin, drinking tea, listening to
the others discuss the dueling, he still saw them in his mind’s eye, strolling through the snowy
twilight.
* * * * *
There were still no Charms classes during the next day. There was a rumor going around that
Dumbledore had hired a substitute, but he wouldn’t be able to start until March. Hermione
fretted, spending the Charms time in the library, studying. “We still have the O.W.L.s to think
about, remember?” she prodded Harry and Ron. Ron rolled his eyes.
“You don’t even appreciate having a free period...”
“No, what I don’t appreciate--and I’ll bet he doesn’t either--is poor Professor Flitwick being in
a coma.”
She looked at Harry grimly; they still had no idea who had sent those notes, and Dumbledore
himself was stymied about the doorway to the Charms classroom, which was still sealed off to
prevent anyone else becoming comatose. They had also had no luck finding a way to
communicate with Malfoy that didn’t risk discovery by the other Death Eater. Harry had asked
Snape to pair him up with Malfoy in Potions, and he had done so (in a humiliating incident
involving ground newts and a reducing potion gone wrong). But Malfoy didn’t know anything
new, so it wasn’t much help.
After classes were done for the day, they went back up to the common room. Harry, Ron and
Hermione were sitting by the fire, reading history and trying to stay awake (or at least Ron and
Harry were struggling to stay awake) when they heard Parvati squeal excitedly from across the
room.
“Oh! Lavender! It’s beautiful!” She was holding up a delicate-looking violet sweater with
pearlized buttons down the front.
“Happy birthday!” Lavender said to her, grinning. Ron frowned, stood up and walked over to
them.
“Birthday? I thought I heard you saying ‘Happy Birthday’ to your sister yesterday.”
Parvati looked at him levelly. “Yes. Yesterday was her birthday. And today is mine. She was
born just before midnight, I was born just after. Which even makes us different signs; she’s
Aquarius and I’m Pisces.” Harry thought to himself, That makes sense. It partly explained why
they were in different houses.
Ron was looking at her strangely. Parvati went right on looking back. Even Lavender seemed
discomfited by this. “Why don’t you try your sweater on?” she asked Parvati, who finally
turned to her friend.
“Yes, I will. Excuse me,” she said to Lavender and Ron, walking toward the girls’ stairs
carrying her present. When she returned, she was wearing some jeans and the sweater, which
turned out to be rather low-cut. The color went perfectly with her skin and hair; Harry could see
that Lavender had chosen wisely. He could also see that Ron was looking flushed and that
Hermione had noticed.
Ron swallowed, staring at her. “It looks--really nice,” he said lamely.
Parvati didn’t seem inclined to pass judgment on his lack of originality. “Thanks. Thank you
again, Lavender,” she said suddenly, as though remembering it was her friend who had given it
to her and not Ron. If Malfoy saw her in that sweater, Harry thought, he’d really want to have
use of Moody’s magical eye.
“Do you--do you want to play chess?” Ron asked her awkwardly. She smiled at him like she
had a secret, agreeing.
Harry and Hermione sat near the fireplace until dinner, ostensibly continuing to read, but
Hermione was really watching Ron and Parvati out of the corner of her eye, and Harry could
also not resist stealing glances at them. Was Ron just trying to get a rise out of Hermione? he
wondered. Then again, he genuinely seemed like he might be attracted to Parvati. Seamus,
Dean, Lee and Fred had noticed her new sweater the moment they had come into the common
room, all of them goggling at her, and Lee had had to push Fred up the stairs to the dorms, he
was staring at her so hard, a lump in his throat.
During the week, Harry noticed that where Ron usually sat near Harry and Hermione in classes
and Parvati sat near Lavender, Lavender was more often on her own while Ron and Parvati sat
together. When Argent began mewing softly in Binns’ class, Parvati took the kitten from him
surreptitiously, holding her under the desk, stroking her with her finger softly, while Ron tried to
look back at Binns innocently and answer questions about Boris the Bewildered. Hermione
started to get quite snippy with Ron, until she hardly spoke to him at all when it wasn’t
absolutely necessary.
Sunday rolled around again very quickly, it seemed to Harry, and the last screening day for the
Dueling Club had arrived. After this, the membership would be set, and they would be spending
more time learning defenses and countercurses and dodging techniques, eventually learning to
duel in larger numbers than one-on-one. Snape told them they would do even matches of twoon-
two and three-on-three, but eventually they would also do uneven matches of two-on-one,
three-on-two and even three-on-one.
As they prepared to start, Harry noticed that Niamh and Liam’s little sister Orla was sitting on
one of the tables that had been pushed to the wall. Justin sat next to her, watching. Harry
wondered whether they should be present; Liam was ranked pretty low, and could very well be
eliminated in this meeting. Would he want Justin and Orla watching his humiliation, if that’s what
happened? Or were they there to encourage him? Harry put it out of his mind. The only person
he still had to duel was Neville; otherwise, all he would be doing was voting on other duels, so
he was mostly going to be a spectator too, during this meeting.
Neville, Padma, Parvati and Susan were still being vetted. Neville dueled Parvati first, disarming
her quickly. She looked surprised, then returned to the circle, standing next to Ron. It was
certainly becoming more and more difficult to find one without the other. They stood very close
together, it seemed, and looked at each other quite a lot, Harry thought.
The next time Neville dueled, he beat Crabbe. He had a triumphant gleam in his eye as he saw
the wands go up for him, and Harry couldn’t help feeling that Neville was starting to come into
his own. He tried to put out of his mind the walk around the lake with Ginny. She had just been
polite, saying yes, since she supposedly wasn’t seeing anyone. If she had said she was seeing
someone, people would be interested to know who it was.
When Ginny defeated Parvati, Ron surprised Harry by voting against his sister. It was the first
time he had not voted for her. Parvati beamed back at him. But Ginny had won cleanly, and
received the most votes. She also defeated Susan, a little later, although Susan then turned
around and bested Evan Davies (Harry thought Evan might have a little crush on Susan).
Harry saw Justin and Orla wincing when Parvati beat Liam. Soon after, it was Hermione’s turn
to duel Neville. She smiled at him before they bowed; Neville did not smile however. Harry
watched through narrowed eyes. Something about Neville seemed different somehow. He
realized he hadn’t seen him much during the previous week. Had he been spending much time
practicing?
He pointed his wand at Hermione, crying, “Egami rorrim!” Hermione looked down at herself in
confusion, then shrugged; the spell didn’t seem to have had any effect on her. Harry had never
heard of it before, and had no idea what it was supposed to do. He assumed Neville had
muffed it.
But when he shifted to Hermione’s left, Hermione turned and looked as though she were
pursuing an attacker on her right. She pointed her wand, but it was at the spectators; Roger and
Evan Davies and Malfoy were potentially in her sights, and they started moving out of the way
cautiously.
“Expelliarmus!” she cried, the sparks shooting out of her wand harmlessly, as she wasn’t even
facing Neville and Malfoy and the Davies brothers had dodged out of the way. She made a
face; what did she think she was doing? Harry wondered. Perhaps Neville’s spell had worked
after all. Neville smiled now.
“Impedimenta!” he said, then walked over to her and plucked the wand from her hand. He
received a unanimous vote. After the spell was lifted from her, Hermione returned to the circle,
still looking slightly disoriented.
“What was that?” Harry whispered to her. But she put her finger to her lips to silence him. After
about five more duels, Neville went again, this time defeating Alicia. Then Parvati bested her
twin, who turned around and beat Niamh Quirke a few duels later. After another handful of
duels, it was Neville’s turn again, this time against Roger Davies. Harry was nervous about
Roger; Neville was doing really well, and Roger always took losing very poorly. He very much
wanted to see Neville beat Roger, but he was concerned about what lengths Roger would go to
win himself.
It wasn’t a pretty duel. Neville and Roger had the longest duel yet at about fifteen minutes, using
painful Passus Curses on each other and Confundus-class charms. They also made repeated
attempts to disarm each other, only to dodge out of the way. Finally, one of Neville’s disarming
charms landed squarely on Roger, who flew backward into Angelina and George. They helped
him up, but he was quite ungracious about it and did not even thank them. Angelina looked like
she might put another hex on him, but George put his hand on her wand arm, smiling and
shaking his head, silently reminding her what a git Roger was. She smiled back at George and
put her wand away.
After several more duels, Neville defeated Parvati, and then Malfoy, who looked as upset as
Roger, although they hadn’t dueled for as long. That was followed by Padma beating Lee
Jordan, Susan Bones defeating Crabbe, and Parvati losing to Niamh Quirke. It was Neville’s
turn again. Snape called out the name of his opponent.
“Potter!”
Harry stepped forward. Neville looked at him levelly. Neither of them smiled. Harry felt that
other duelers had underestimated Neville. He did not plan to make the same mistake. They
bowed to each other, eyes on the floor for only a split second before raising them to look at
each other again. They stepped back and held their wands at the ready. Harry looked into
Neville’s eyes, trying to see the intent there, trying to discern when the moment of action would
come. Neville looked right back, revealing nothing.
They circled each other slowly; Harry was dimly aware of the existence of the other people in
the circle. They had receded into some kind of middle distance for him, present and yet not.
Harry watched Neville’s mouth, too, and his throat, trying to determine the second that he
started to utter an incantation of any kind.
Harry saw it then, and a moment later it had happened; Neville said, “Expelliarmus!” and
pointed his wand at Harry, but Harry was ready and had already dodged the sparks from the
wand, immediately aiming his wand at Neville.
“Locomotor mortis!” he cried, and he could see that the leg-locker curse had hit Neville
squarely. Neville was locked in place now, but looking no less determined. He produced a
series of blue-bell flames that danced around Harry.
“Fluvius!” Harry cried, aiming the stream of water coming from his wand at the flames, putting
them out, then having a thought, and aiming the stream of water at Neville. Neville rocked back
slightly, then pointed his wand at the arc of water.
“Frigidarium!” he said, and the arc of water became an arc of ice, frozen in midair for a
moment, before it broke free of Harry’s wand and fell to the stone floor with a deafening
CRASH! as though every delicate piece in a crystal shop had been shattered. Harry held onto
his wand firmly, shocked by the noise, while he was vaguely aware that Neville had taken the
leg-locker curse off himself.
Neville aimed his wand at him again. “Bracchio suo passus est!” Harry gritted his teeth, feeling
the pain in his arm for a second only, before his mind floated free, knowing that it wasn’t real,
physical pain, but a mere trick. He willed himself to return to his senses and aimed his wand at
Neville.
“Reverso!”
But Neville merely smiled. Why is he smiling? Harry wondered. Neville pointed his wand right
at him, not appearing to be affected by the charm.
“Inverso!”
Damn! Harry thought, as the world seemed to turn over. He looked between his feet; there was
the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. He looked up; there was Neville, and, appearing to be
in a circle floating upside down, the spectators staring at him. He thought it looked like Orla
Quirke and Justin Finch Fletchley ran out of the Hall, but it was difficult to tell. He closed his
eyes to get his bearings. I know which way is up, he told himself. I know which way is up.
He pointed his wand at himself, at his glasses, saying, “Impervius!” Then he pointed his wand
above his head, not trying to aim at Neville now, saying, “Pluvius!” this time. Immediately, rain
began to pour from the enchanted ceiling, soaking Harry and Neville and sending the spectators
running into the entrance hall, except for Snape, who hovered nearby, rain running down his
face and hair and robes. Harry smiled, then took the Inverso charm off himself. He felt like he
was standing on solid ground again, although he was also being pelted with rain, facing an
equally soaking-wet Neville. Neville stared back at him. They circled each other, water
streaming down their faces. Harry’s glasses repelled the water.
Harry could tell Neville was tired of being wet. Finally Neville gave in and pointed upward,
saying, “Dessicatio!” The rain immediately stopped and they were both dry again. But while
Neville had been preoccupied with that, Harry had taken the opportunity to attack him again.
“Mano suo passus est!” he cried, pointing at Neville’s wand hand. Neville made a pained face
and moved his left hand to grasp his right, so that he wouldn’t drop his wand. Even in the midst
of his pain, he pointed his wand at Harry, holding onto it with both hands to steady it. After the
rain had stopped, the other club members had come back into the Great Hall, and with them, it
seemed the rest of the school, students and teachers. Had Orla and Justin gone to get them?
“Tracheo suo passus est!” Neville cried, pointing his wand. Harry’s neck seized up, and he
clutched at his throat with his left hand, dropping to his knees, resisting the urge to release his
wand so he could put both his hands around his throat. He closed his eyes and moved out of
himself again, moving past the pain, past the illusion.
He quickly pointed his wand at Neville again, crying, “Expelliarmus!” wanting the fight to be
over finally, but Neville dodged it nimbly, pointing his wand at Harry and sending another passus
curse his way, aimed at his left leg. Harry sidestepped it, and they spent a while then, it seemed,
hurling curses and Confundus charms and hexes at each other and dodging them.
Harry wasn’t sure how long they’d been dueling. He was vaguely aware of Hermione watching
with her fist in her mouth, Snape pacing back and forth, frowning, the crowd of students beyond
the circle standing on tables and chairs to see, the hubbub in the hall growing to a deafening
pitch.
Finally, Neville did the same thing he’d done to Hermione; he aimed at Harry and said, “Emagi
rorrim!” Harry frowned. He didn’t feel any different. Wait--he looked down. His wand was in
his left hand now. How had that happened? He looked up; he had though he was facing the east
wall of the hall, with the doorway leading to the entrance hall to his right, but now the doorway
was on his left. What had Neville done? He didn’t feel particularly disoriented, yet he didn’t feel
right either, and he knew he hadn’t taken his wand from his right hand and put it in his left.
Trying to ignore how unnatural his wand felt, he aimed another disarming charm at Neville, who
was standing to his left. Neville seemed to absorb the charm with no effect; he was not flying
backwards, his wand was not zooming into Harry’s hand. What had gone wrong?
Neville pointed his wand, but it looked to Harry like he was pointing it at Snape for some
reason. “Petrificus Totalus!” he cried, and Harry blanched; he was putting a full-body bind on
Snape!
But then Harry felt all of his joints stiffen and it was a great effort not to fall over. He couldn’t
move; HE was the one in the full body bind. But Neville wasn’t pointing at me, he reasoned in
his head, watching Neville move toward him and triumphantly pluck his wand from his hand,
holding it over his head.
The duel was over. Harry was disarmed.
Snape took the spells off Harry and Neville returned his wand to him. The hall was utterly quiet.
“Vote!” Snape cried. “For Longbottom...” One by one, then in waves, the club members
raised their wands for Neville, until every last one of them held his or her wand in the air. Snape
stared around at the circle twice, three times, checking to be sure, before saying loudly, his
voice ringing through the packed hall, “It is unanimous! Eighteen votes--”
“Nineteen,” Harry said loudly and clearly, raising his own wand now, looking at Snape, and
then Neville, starting to smile. Snape gave a very slight nod of the head, preparing to amend his
words.
“Nineteen votes for Longbottom!” he decreed, the last syllable of Neville’s last name suddenly
lost in the roar of acclamation that emanated from the gathered students and teachers as
everyone let their feelings be known. The sound bounced around the hard stone walls and
floors, threatening to reach a deafening pitch, and in the midst of it, Harry put his wand in his
robes and stepped toward Neville, his right hand extended. Neville paused for only a second,
also pocketing his wand and taking Harry’s hand, shaking it.
“Thanks, Neville,” Harry said with a smile, leaning in towards him so he could be heard.
Neville smiled back now. “Any time, Harry. Any time.” He slapped Harry on the back and they
walked toward Ron and Hermione, who were going as wild as anyone else. Hermione, hugged
Neville and Harry, and Ron clapped them both on the shoulder, shaking his head and grinning.
Harry’s head was starting to hurt from the noise in the Great Hall, but he was getting the
impression that it wasn’t going to die down for quite a while. Harry had a feeling that Neville
would remember this day for the rest of his life, and Harry knew that he would too.
* * * * *
