The Mark of Courage

The Mark of Courage

Chapter Three

Draco's eyes widened at the mention of his father, before narrowing dangerously. "You leave him out of this," he snarled. "Besides, he'll be out in less time than you think."

"But if it wasn't for your father and the slime he calls friends," Neville said, "I wouldn't have decided to become an Auror." A rather large part of him was appalled at his recklessness in taunting the Slytherin boy, but another, larger part cheered him on. "I really should thank him one of these days. Remember back in first year, when I told you I was worth twelve of you? Well, I'm worth twenty of your father." He allowed his smile to grow positively beatific. "No, make that fifty."

Draco lunged at him, but was stopped short by a thicket of wands, all pointed at him. The Slytherin stared coldly at Neville, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny for a long moment. The wands pointed at him never wavered.

" 'Ere, now! Wha's this?" From the corner of his eye Neville could see Hagrid approaching, surrounded by a gaggle of scared-looking first years. "Put those down! 'Arry, 'Ermione, righ' this instant! You Weasleys, too. An'... Neville? Wha's the meanin' o' this?"

"Nothing, Professor," Neville said calmly. "We had a difference of opinion. Didn't we, Malfoy?"

Draco looked as though he'd love nothing more than to have his own wand in hand so he could perform any number of particularly nasty jinxes. With obvious effort, he stood back. "Right. A difference of opinion."

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes shifted between Draco and Neville, who still hadn't broken eye contact with the other. Seeing that there wouldn't be any violence this particular evening, he nodded, mollified.

"Well, then, tha's over an' done," he said. "Get t' yer carriages before they all leave, though I've half a mind t' let th' lot o' you walk to th' castle." He gestured to the first year students pressing close to him. "C'mon. Th' excitement's over. Follow me!" Hagrid walked off, his young charges struggling to keep pace with his long strides.

Draco leaned forward, his face paler than usual with fury. "This isn't over, Longbottom," he hissed. "Not by a long shot." He pushed his way past the other Gryffindors, Crabbe and Goyle in his wake.

The others followed at a prudent distance. Now that the confrontation was over, Neville found that he couldn't stop shaking. Excitement and delayed terror rippled through him in waves. There was a fluttery sensation in his chest and his legs felt like jelly. He couldn't remember another time where he had been so close to the ragged edge of disaster with Malfoy without falling.

I should be on my way to the hospital wing by now... I did it, I faced him, and he lost control first...what have I learned from this? He's going to come after me now, I know it... That was a stupid thing to do, but damn it felt good... I can't believe it...Was that me back there just now?

Neville and the others walked over to where the carriages were waiting. He kept his eyes averted from the thestrals hitched to the carriages, and noticed Harry doing the same. The creatures unnerved him, even though he had touched them before, even flown on one. That had been a real experience, frightening, but oddly exhilarating also. If only their appearance weren't so hideous, he wouldn't have minded an opportunity to fly again.

He helped Ginny into a waiting carriage before following. Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed in after him and took their seats. The door shut with a loud click, and moments later the carriage lurched into motion, bumping and swaying up the narrow track to the castle.

Neville spent a few moments soothing his owl before realizing that his low murmurs were the only sounds inside the carriage. Even Ron's owl Pigwidgeon had ceased his near-constant twittering. Slowly, he looked up from Winston's cage and found the others looking at him as though he had morphed into something completely unrecognizable.

"What did I do?" he asked, bewildered. "Stop staring at me like that!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said a little breathlessly. "We don't mean to be rude." She didn't stop staring, though.

"That was amazing, mate," Ron said. "It's your funeral, of course, but still amazing. Did you see the look on Malfoy's face! Priceless!"

"I thought you were wonderful, standing up to him like that," Ginny said. "Someone really needed to take him down a peg or two. I just never thought...." She trailed off and bit her lip.

"Well, it was a good thing that Hagrid was there," Hermione said. "It wouldn't do for you to get detention your first day back. What got into you, Neville? I've never known you to be so...confrontational."

Neville ducked his head in a futile attempt to hide his flaming cheeks. He had always known that everyone had low expectations of him. Practically since his first day at Hogwarts he had been followed by the whispers of those wondering how he had ever managed to be Sorted into Gryffindor. He remembered the exasperation, and, in Snape's case, the utter disdain of his instructors. Even Gran, while telling everyone what a good boy he was, always followed with the caveat that he had nowhere near his father's talent in magic. It was galling to realize that his own friends had such little faith in him. Merlin's beard, even Hagrid hadn't been able to hide his surprise!

He had hoped the new changes in him, both physical and mental, would be noticed and appreciated by those who knew him. He had never in his wildest imaginings thought that they might render him almost unrecognizable to those who knew him best. Had he truly been that hapless?

Then again, with the recent exception of Harry, the others didn't know about the journal he'd begun over the summer, containing all of his plans, dreams, and fondest wishes. They didn't know about the countless rolls of parchment with their equally numerous lists as he struggled to improve nearly every facet of his life. They didn't know he was actually quite good at potions as long as a certain head of Slytherin House wasn't looking down his long, hooked nose at him. (And wouldn't that be a shock to Hermione!)

Losing weight over the summer was one thing. People did that all the time, even without the aid of magical potions and tisanes. It was something entirely different when mice stared down snakes and won. His friends would just have to get used to it, because he wasn't about to turn back now. He didn't want to be a mouse anymore.

Speaking of mice and snakes....Neville shook himself mentally. If he could face Draco Malfoy and win, he could face his friends. He wasn't a mouse; he was a lion of Gryffindor as much as Harry and the others. Yet, as often as he had told himself that over the years, he still found himself wondering if it was true.

Steeling himself, he looked up just as Harry said, "Neville, don't you think you ought to tell the others what you've really been up to over the summer? Besides swimming and hiking, that is." His green eyes glinted. "I must admit, after seeing you put Malfoy in his place just now, I'm thinking that starting my own journal wouldn't be a bad idea."

"Oh, you've started a journal?" Hermione asked with interest. "I keep one, too. I've found it's a wonderful way to organize your mind." She stopped, hearing her own words, and smiled widely in understanding. "Ahhh, I see..."

"Your mind doesn't need organizing, Hermione," Ron said. "You have an encyclopedia between your ears as it is. What is your journal for---to make sure things stay in alphabetical order?"

"You could do with some organization, Ronald Weasley," she retorted. "I'll bet you never once used the homework planner I gave you last year."

"Oh, be quiet, both of you," Ginny said. "I want to hear what Neville has to say."

Once again, all eyes turned to Neville, but this time their expressions were ones of encouragement and anticipation, rather than surprise and disbelief. He gave them an embarrassed smile. "I went swimming and hiking," he said. "And, when I wasn't doing that, I was keeping a journal and making enough lists to keep the parchment business going for the next five years. I guess it's starting to work." He grimaced. "I just hope it doesn't get me killed. Did you see the look on Malfoy's face? He's going to have it in for me now."

"Yeah, I saw his face," Ron said fondly. "It was classic. I think it ranks almost as high as the ferret incident." Seeing the worry on Neville's face, he turned brisk. "Don't think about it. Malfoy's a dirty sneak, but he's not the least bit physical about it. Well, except in Quidditch, but that's different. He can't even send Crabbe and Goyle after you. It would be too obvious."

"Words are his main weapon," Harry said. "He'll use them to get under your skin so that you attack him, preferably with a professor around to witness it."

"And then he just smirks at you while said professor takes whatever number of points from Gryffindor, and you can't say or do anything about it," Ginny finished. "Yes, that sounds like Draco's modus operandi in a nutshell."

"But---that's what I just did back there!" Neville said, slightly horrified at the realization. "Why is it so awful when he does it, but when I do it, it's wonderful?"

"Because Malfoy is a slimy git who deserves it," Ron said, but Hermione shook her head.

"It's wonderful because you used his own weapon against him, and he couldn't handle it," she explained. She paused thoughtfully before adding, "You were better. I didn't see any smirking on your part. Mockery and condescension, yes; but no smirking."

"I wish we had some butterbeer," Ginny said. "We could all raise a toast in your honor. As it stands, I think we should all pause and savor the moment." She giggled. "That really was a priceless look on Malfoy's face."

Neville smiled shyly. "It was, wasn't it?"

So this was what approval felt like. Neville found he enjoyed it very much.

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They arrived at the castle soon after. Exiting the carriage, Neville and the others joined the throng of students surging past the great oak doors into the entrance hall. They allowed themselves to be swept along to the Great Hall, where the tide broke into smaller eddies as the students made their way to the four huge tables on the main floor. Ginny spotted Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan and waved. Dean waved back and gestured towards the seats he had saved for them.

Neville took one of the seats and looked around the hall, nearly overflowing with happiness. The first night back at Hogwarts had always been one of his favorite events. He would get to hear the new song the Sorting Hat had composed over the past year, and watch as the new first year students were Sorted into their Houses. He would find out who was brave enough (or foolhardy enough) to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position this year.

All that, and there was still the actual feast to look forward to. With the exception of the small bag of Bertie Bott's beans on the train, Neville hadn't eaten since breakfast, and he was starving.

Most of the staff had already taken their seats, with the exception of Hagrid, who was still with the first year students, and Professor McGonagall, who would be meeting them once they arrived at the castle. Neville identified every professor save the woman seated next to Professor Dumbledore.

"Behold, this year's sacrificial lamb," Ron said in sepulchral tones. Dean and Seamus snickered. "She's actually sort of pretty," Ron continued. "Old, but pretty."

"Ron!" Hermione and Ginny both sounded horrified.

"Well, she is!" Ron said, his ears reddening.

"Whoever she is, she's already on Snape's wrong side," Harry said. "See the way he keeps glaring at her when he thinks no one's looking?"

"I suppose one of these years he'll get the position, when everyone else stops applying for it," Neville said. "I'm a bit surprised he didn't get it this year."

Hagrid entered the hall from a side door and made his way down the staff table to his seat. Seeing him, the noise in the hall diminished considerably; and moments later Professor McGonagall entered, carrying a wooden stool and the Sorting Hat. The first year students trailed in behind her, looking terrified.

McGonagall set the stool down, the Sorting Hat on top, and stepped back. There was a hushed silence before the huge rip in the Hat's brim opened, and it began to sing.

Many, many years ago,

Ten centuries or more,

Four pillars of the Wizard world

Founded this school of lore.

Brave Gryffindor, sly Slytherin

The two wizards were renowned.

Fair Ravenclaw, sweet Hufflepuff

As powerful witches were crowned.

For years the four chose whom to teach,

According to their talents.

For each one prized a different gift

That together brought on balance.

Gryffindor favored those

Of courage and great deeds,

While Hufflepuff preferred the ones

Of whom hard work was their creed.

Ravenclaw selected those

Of intellectual bent,

And Slytherin always went for those

Where cunning and ambition met.

Four separate traits, each admirable.

Four separate Houses met

Beneath one certain Hogwarts school

Where countless students went.

But strife did strike, and Slytherin left.

Balance was undone.

And ever since the Houses four

Have not been quite as strong.

For unity must be the prize

Four traits must work together

Dark days approach, and each must strive

Against the coming stormy weather.

And as I Sort the newest ones

Into one House of friends;

I beg you to remember

Three other Houses will lend

Their talents and their gifts to you

If only you would ask.

For only true unity will cause

True evil to unmask.

This is my song, please heed it well,

As I go through this undertaking.

Which will it be, what will you choose?

The joining, or the breaking?

The Hat fell silent, and after a moment scattered applause sounded through the Hall. Most of the students were too dumbfounded, however, to clap.

"Well, it's certainly not being subtle about it," Hermione said uncertainly. "Boil it down, and the Sorting Hat is basically saying work together or die."

"Charming sentiment for the first evening back," Ron said. "I can't say it's the best song the Hat's ever done. A bit choppy, if you know what I mean."

"Don't be an idiot," Hermione snapped. "It's the message in the song, not the structure of it that matters!"

"Everyone's a critic," Ginny said airily, bringing chuckles from everyone.

Neville glanced over to Harry, whose face was carefully expressionless. He thought he could figure out what was going through the other boy's mind, if his own thoughts were any indication. Before he could say anything though, Professor McGonagall called out the first student's name.

"Allen, Jessica."

Neville leaned forward, the Sorting Hat's song temporarily forgotten. This was his favorite part. A few moments later Jessica became the first new Ravenclaw of the evening, and shortly afterwards 'Baird, Jamie' became the first new Gryffindor to be announced. Slowly, the line of new students thinned as the Sorting Hat did its job, though by the time 'Merryweather, Eleanor' became a Hufflepuff, Ron's stomach was growling audibly.

Finally, 'Yarborough, Kenneth' became the last new Gryffindor of the night. As Professor McGonagall carried the stool and the Sorting Hat away Neville nearly groaned aloud in anticipation---while not as loud as Ron's, his own stomach looked forward to the coming feast just as much.

Professor Dumbledore stood, and the Hall went quiet once more.

"Once again, I bid you all welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he said. "I have only two things to say. The first is Tuck. The second is In."

The tables filled with food and drink. Neville shared a grin with Ron and piled his plate with roast chicken, roasted potatoes, and dilled carrots. For the next ten minutes the only sounds were the scraping of plates and the clinking of cutlery, interspersed with occasional requests to pass the salt.

Neville was savoring his second chocolate éclair when Dumbledore rose again, smiling down at the sea of faces. "Now that our appetites are somewhat sated, I would like to draw your attention to a few notices. As many of you have already figured out, we have a new teacher who has graciously agreed to take the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Please welcome Sibylla Snape to Hogwarts!"

"Sibylla Snape?" Ron coughed, nearly choking on his trifle. "Did he just say Sibylla Snape?"

"Old, but pretty, right?" Neville reminded him gleefully. Ron turned a delicate shade of green.

The others teased Ron throughout the rest of Dumbledore's announcements, all of which they already knew (Filch had a very long list of forbidden items, Quidditch tryouts were that weekend, the Forbidden Forest remained forbidden), before they were finally dismissed. Ron leaped at the opportunity, jumping out of his chair and calling out for first years to follow him before Hermione had even finished folding her napkin. Neville and the others couldn't stop chortling, especially when Seamus began making loud smooching noises. Ron hurried away, as red as his hair from the neck up.

Neville fell in beside Harry as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. He felt replete and drowsy, and fully at home. He was surrounded by his friends, he had taken on Draco Malfoy in a battle of words and won, and tomorrow held nothing but promises and possibilities. He couldn't imagine ever having a more perfect day. Even the password this year was easy enough to remember.

"Fairy ring", he said to the Fat Lady's portrait, since Harry was too busy yawning.

"Correct," she replied, admitting them to the tower. They passed through the common room and straight to the boys' dormitories. Neville changed for bed and climbed under the sheets with a sigh.

He was just beginning to drift into sleep when he sat bolt upright. "Dammit, I almost forgot!"

Climbing reluctantly out of bed, he pulled out a sheet of parchment, his inkbottle, and a quill, and began composing a letter.

Dear Gran,

I have arrived safely at Hogwarts, and so far I think this will be my best year ever...