Because he had lost the slip of paper with the passwords, Professor McGonagall banned Neville from going to Hogsade again. Perhaps she feared he might lose sothing else… She’d long suspected that Sirius Black had been in Hogsade when he’d found Neville’s misplaced password list.
So, when the next Hogsade visit rolled around, Neville watched the others leave the castle happily before silently turning and heading back up the stairs. Neville didn’t complain, though. He actually thought Professor McGonagall was right. He was always losing things and making mistakes—maybe it really was better if he didn’t know the passwords, which he’d just forget anyway. Sure, it’d be inconvenient not to co and go freely from the common room, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about causing any more disasters.
To be honest, knowing that Sirius Black had broken into the Gryffindor common room because of him, and had nearly killed Ron, had shaken Neville to his core. His blood ran cold every ti he thought about it, and for days afterward, he’d been plagued by nightmares.
In these dreams, Ron had turned into Gryffindor’s new ghost, with a nickna of his own: Poorly-Headed Weasley. There was nothing he could do about it; since Nearly Headless Nick was the ghost Neville knew best, he couldn’t help but picture Ron as so version of him. In his dreams, Ron kept questioning him angrily, demanding to know why he had written down the password and handed it over to Sirius Black.
Each ti, just as Neville tried to explain himself, he’d be interrupted, waking with a start, often with a yell that frightened not only himself but his roommates—especially Ron. To be honest, Ron felt like Sirius Black’s break-in was less of a shock than Neville’s nightmares.
Lately, the dormitory had felt like an extension of Divination class. Ron hadn’t had a solid night’s sleep in days; every ti he managed to doze off, he’d be jolted awake by Neville’s frantic shouts in the bed next to him: “Ron, I didn’t an to kill you!” or, “Poorly-Headed Weasley, it was Black who did it, not …”
The worst part was, he was still alive, eating, sleeping, and even doing his howork. And what on earth was “Poorly-Headed Weasley”?
He didn’t rember having any family connection to Sir Nicholas, thank you very much. Once or twice might’ve been tolerable, but hearing it every single night? That was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.
Despite telling Neville many tis that he forgave him, it never seed to help. If it hadn’t been for Harry, Ron might have seriously considered switching dormitories.
Lately, though, things had finally begun to calm down a bit. Neville was determined to keep his nightmares from becoming reality, so he’d decided he didn’t want to know the passwords. That way, Black would never be able to use him to get into Gryffindor Tower again…
Hmm?
Neville froze suddenly, his thoughts interrupted by a troubling realization. He looked around at the empty staircase, a question suddenly pressing on him.
Now that nearly everyone had gone to Hogsade… how was he supposed to get back into the common room without knowing the password?
There might still be so older students in the common room, but the castle’s soundproofing was so effective that no matter how loudly he shouted, no one inside would be able to hear him.
“Oh, why did I forget that!” Neville fud, wandering aimlessly around the castle corridors. As he turned a corner on the fourth floor, he spotted soone up ahead.
“Harry!” Neville exclaid in surprise. “I forgot you weren’t going to Hogsade either!”
He was genuinely relieved. Finally, he could get back into the common room.
“Hey, Neville,” Harry greeted him, hastily stepping away from the statue of the hunchbacked witch and trying to act casual. “What are you doing here?”
“Nothing much,” Neville said. “Want to play Exploding Snap? I’ve got a new set up in my dorm!”
The castle was chilly, and he was already missing the warmth of the common room fireplace.
“Uh… not right now…” Harry stamred, trying to co up with an excuse to get rid of Neville so he could slip through the secret passage to Hogsade. “Maybe later. I need to go to the library and work on that essay about Vampires that Professor Lupin assigned…”
“Great idea,” Neville said, looking pleasantly surprised. “I didn’t understand that lecture anyway. Maybe you could help …”
He suddenly went quiet, his eyes widening as he took a sharp breath and glanced behind Harry.
It was Snape, with Kyle at his side. They had just co down the stairs, engaged in a tense conversation.
“Professor, I’d be happy to help you with an errand, but today’s a Hogsade day, and I’m already running late…” Kyle was saying.
“Watch your language. It’s detention, not an ‘errand,’” Snape corrected him sharply, not even glancing back. “And if you don’t brew your potions in the correct order next ti, you won’t be going to Hogsade at all.”
“But there’s nothing wrong with my Hair-Raising Potion! It’s the standard ginger color,” Kyle protested.
“Do you not understand what I’m telling you? How many tis do I need to repeat it? Your procedure is not in the book!” Snape replied, his voice clipped and stern.
Just then, Snape’s eyes swept over the hall and settled on Harry and Neville.
“What are you two doing here?” he asked, stopping and looking them over. “It’s rather… unusual to find students here at this ti.”
Snape’s gaze shifted around the area, finally following Harry’s own line of sight to the hunchbacked witch statue.
“We didn’t exactly run into each other; we just… happened to be here,” Harry said, trying to sound casual, though he was clearly nervous.
“Really?” Snape replied, his tone dripping with suspicion. “You always seem to turn up in the most unexpected places, Potter, and rarely for good reasons… I suggest you both return to Gryffindor Tower, where you belong.”
Harry and Neville took the hint and quickly fled down the corridor.
Once they’d left, Kyle glanced up at Snape and asked, “So… am I free to go to Hogsade now?”
“Not yet!” Snape snapped without hesitation.
“But didn’t you already finish everything for the Fat Lady on the eighth floor?” Kyle pressed.
“That was only part of it,” Snape said slowly, savoring his words. “I have another task for you. Be in the dungeon in an hour. And if you’re even a second late, I promise you’ll never set foot in Hogsade again.”
With that, Snape turned back to the hunchbacked witch statue, tapping his wand on it thoughtfully.
“Yes, Professor!” Kyle replied, quickly leaving the corridor without looking back. With only an hour left, a trip to Hogsade was out of the question, so he figured he’d find sothing else to pass the ti.
As he walked down to the second floor, Kyle spotted Neville again, leaning against a pillar by the stairs, looking aimless.
“What are you doing here?” Kyle asked. “Where’s Harry?”
“Oh, we were going to head back to the tower, but Harry said he had sothing else to do and left. Since I don’t know the password, I thought I’d just go to the library for a bit.”
“And you?” Neville asked, curious. “Why were you up on the fourth floor with Snape? Weren’t you supposed to be in Hogsade?”
“Obviously not,” Kyle said with a smirk. “I was in detention. I just ca from the eighth floor, where I was adding a special potion to the Fat Lady’s portrait. Next ti Black tries to rip through it, he’ll have a bit of a surprise waiting.”
“That’s great news!” Neville said happily. “We’re all so tired of that Sir Cadogan. Who wouldn’t want the Fat Lady back?”
“So, are you heading back to the common room now?” Kyle asked.
“No, I’m going to the library,” Kyle replied, shaking his head. “I’ve got so coursework to finish.”
“Perfect,” Neville said, brightening up. “Could you help ? I didn’t understand much in the Vampire lesson. Does garlic actually have to be eaten to work, or…”
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