The Mark of Courage

The Mark of Courage

Chapter Thirteen

After posting the letter to Gran, Neville had just enough time to wolf down a hasty meal in the Great Hall before meeting with Susan on the outside steps. She took his hand in hers, and together they set off towards the Quidditch pitch.

The Slytherin team had already begun practice when they arrived. Neville could see Draco Malfoy among them, his white-blond hair easily recognizable in the distance as he drifted above his teammates, keeping an eye out for the Snitch. He also picked out Crabbe and Goyle among the other fliers, his eyes narrowing as he spotted them. They were easy to find; they were as stolid and graceless on broomsticks as they were on the ground. He also recognized Adrian Pucey, one of the Slytherin Chasers and this year's team Captain. The other three players were new.

Severus Snape, head of Slytherin House, met the candidates at the foot of the commentator's tower. His cold gaze swept over the four, resting on Neville for a brief instant before he murmured a curt, "Follow me," and turned away. Beside Neville little Orla Quirke gulped audibly.

The professor barely gave them time to catch their breaths once they emerged at the top of the tower before speaking again. "Miss Bones, you will go first, followed by Miss Quirke, Mr. Longbottom, and lastly, Mr. Pritchard. The standard rules apply. Each of you will be given ten minutes, during which time you will deliver your commentary to the best of your ability. We have three new players on the Slytherin House team this year," he continued. "If you do not know them, now is the time to let me know."

Orla timidly raised her hand. "I don't know them, sir."

Snape's mouth pursed. "Very well, Miss Quirke, allow me to bring you up to scratch. The two new Chasers are Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. Miss Davis is the blonde. Our new Keeper is Malcolm Baddock. Do you need help in identifying any of the other team members, Miss Quirke?"

"No, sir," she whispered. Apparently, Neville thought with some sympathy, he wasn't the only student intimidated by the Potions master.

"Now that we know who's who, let's get started before nightfall. Miss Bones, if you will step up to the podium? The rest of you can have a seat until your respective turns arrive."

"Luck to you," Neville whispered to her as she went to the podium. She gave him a quick smile over her shoulder before taking the podium and pulling out her wand. She stood, Neville noticed, close enough to Snape so that her robes brushed against his.

"Sonorus," Susan said, pointing the wand at her throat. Beside her Snape raised his own wand. Green and silver sparks shot from the end, and Susan began her commentary.

Neville let the flow of words wash over him as he watched the Slytherin team members practice. Davis and Greengrass, he noted, were quicker and faster Chasers than Montague and Warrington, the players from last year, had been. Baddock was an adequate Keeper, but not quite as agile around the hoops as Bletchley had been. Crabbe and Goyle were just as brutal in their roles as Beaters as they had been last year. Meanwhile, Malfoy floated above them all. He was quick, yes; and he was fast on a broom, but in Neville's opinion he wasn't nearly as good a Seeker as Harry. Overall, he thought idly, the Gryffindors had the better House team this year. Then again, he thought with an inward smile, didn't they always?

Susan's turn came to an end, and Orla took her place at the podium. Sitting down beside Neville, she lifted one eyebrow in silent question, and he gave her an equally silent thumbs-up. She blew out a relieved breath and rested her head on his shoulder, straightening quickly when Snape turned to look their way, a slight frown on his sallow face. However, the moment the professor looked away Susan again laid her head on Neville's shoulder.

She stayed in that position until Orla Quirke's turn ended. "Luck," she whispered in his ear before he got to his feet, pulling his wand from his robe pocket. Though nervous, it wasn't nearly as bad as he had thought it would be. He was just glad that in ten minutes this would all be over and done with, and he could retreat back into comfortable anonymity.

Standing as close to Snape as he dared, Neville pointed his wand at his throat and uttered the Sonorus Charm. He saw the sparkle of silver and green from the corner of his eye and began.

"Pucey with the Quaffle, he passes to Greengrass...Baddock's keeping a sharp eye on her..."

So far, so good. The minutes ticked by slowly. Baddock managed to stop the Quaffle twice, only to fall prey to a simple feint by Tracey Davis, who then scored easily. Neville relaxed slightly, letting himself go along with the rhythm the Slytherin team members had established. It helped that Susan's suggestion appeared to have been a wise one. Standing so close to Snape, he received more than a couple of dirty looks from both Crabbe and Goyle whenever they flew past him, but they kept the Bludger away from where he stood.

Neville caught a glimpse of movement and looked up. Malfoy was no longer drifting idly above the other players. "Malfoy's seen the Snitch and is pursuing it..." he said. "Meanwhile, Davis with the Quaffle, she dodges a Bludger and passes to Pucey...Malfoy still has his eye on the Snitch...he's reaching for it...and he misses!"

Try as he might, Neville couldn't conceal the note of glee that entered his voice at that moment. He heard Snape beside him, clearing his throat in disapproval. Neville shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to resume a more professional tone. "Pucey with the Quaffle again...he makes the throw, but Baddock is there for the block! Malfoy is still in hot pursuit of the Snitch...will he have better luck this time? He's reaching... he's reaching...he misses again!" This time it was all Neville could do not to burst into outright laughter. Harry would have caught it both times easily, he thought.

"Mr. Longbottom, I will not warn you again," Snape murmured beside him.

The Golden Snitch eluded Malfoy for the remainder of Neville's turn at commentary, while Pucey succeeded in scoring against Baddock. By the time Snape signaled the end of Neville's turn with another shot of colored sparks from his wand, Draco's face was white with barely suppressed rage. The look he gave Neville as he swooped past on his broomstick was positively murderous.

Ending the Sonorus Charm, Neville returned to his seat and slumped forward, head in hands. What had got into him? He had always hated Draco Malfoy, and knew that the feeling was mutual. In Neville's case, though, that hatred had always been tempered with fear, just as Malfoy's had been tempered with disdain. Lately, though, it seemed that fear and disdain had gone, and there was only the hatred. He didn't know how to make it stop, or even whether such a thing was possible.

He barely paid attention while Graham Pritchard took his turn. He had never been an analytical person, but now he couldn't help but remember each confrontation he'd had with Malfoy since attending Hogwarts over in his mind. He was aware of the worried looks Susan kept turning in his direction, but couldn't say anything to reassure her with Snape standing so close by.

There were no answers. Neville gave himself a mental shake and dismissed the matter from his mind. It was nothing more than bias coming into play, he decided. Seeing Malfoy's inability to capture the Snitch had overcome his attempt at fair commentary. It had happened, he was sorry for it, but there it was. The worst thing that could come from it was the loss of any chance of winning the commentator position; and that was something he hadn't truly had his heart set on in the first place.

Pritchard's turn came to an end, and Snape dismissed the contestants so that they could return to the castle. The Slytherin team practice ended at the same time. With the days growing shorter, they had begun their practice immediately following the last classes of the day and hadn't yet eaten.

Once they had reached the bottom of the tower, Susan turned to him, her expression troubled. "Neville..." she began.

"Don't start," he said shortly. "I know I shouldn't have done it. It's over with, though; and I'm glad we're finished. I just want to get back to the castle and forget I ever let myself get talked into doing this."

"We're not finished," Susan said. "The Hufflepuff tryout is Monday." She looked up at him, her eyes widening in disbelief. "You forgot, didn't you?"

He had. He remembered telling Professor Snape that they were announcing the winner on Monday, and had gone through the rest of the week convinced that once the Slytherin tryouts were done he was home free. "I'm sorry, Susan," he said. "I got the days mixed up."

"What do you mean, 'you got the days mixed up'?" Rather than mollifying her, Neville's apology only seemed to incense her further. "What, you thought they would announce the winner on Monday, and then have the House team practice? No, wait. You just thought that my House team was so awful we didn't deserve to have to have a commentator tryout at our team practice, is that it?"

Neville backed away a step, holding up a hand in a desperate attempt to stop her. "Susan, that wasn't what I meant at all. I forgot. I forget stuff all the time; I'm famous for it. I'm trying to become better at remembering things, but I'm not perfect! It was a stupid mistake on my part. I never meant to insult your House!"

"Well, you did." Susan looked at him stonily. "And don't use your faulty memory as an excuse. It's improved quite a bit the last few weeks. You can't recall the tryout schedule, but I'll bet you can remember every wisecrack you and Malfoy have traded since term started!"

"What does Malfoy have to do with this?" Neville stared at her. "He's a git, but he's not going out with you, I am!"

He knew immediately that he had phrased that wrong, but there was no way to take the words back. They almost seemed to float in the air between them.

"Susan..."

"No, I think I've heard quite enough," Susan said. "First you use your memory as an excuse to insult my House, and then you tell me that even a 'git' like Malfoy is too good for me. I thought you were different, Longbottom. I guess I was wrong."

"That wasn't what I meant!" Neville shouted, stung, but Susan had already turned and walked away, almost running. He thought he heard a stifled sob as he watched her retreating back.

Neville groaned. He knew he ought to go after her and try to apologize, but after his previous attempt he wasn't sure that was the wisest thing to do. Besides, he thought with more than a little indignation, she had insulted him, too, in a way. He had honestly forgotten about the Hufflepuff tryout, and she hadn't believed him. Why should he apologize for honesty? She was the one who had twisted his words and thrown them back in his face!

"Girls are weird," he muttered. He looked up at a sound, but it was only Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass departing the Quidditch changing room, laughing and talking between themselves. Everyone else had apparently returned to the castle while he and Susan traded words.

Susan had cut across the pitch and was nearly to the bleachers on the other side, apparently choosing to take the shortcut back to the castle. Neville sighed and loped after her. Maybe he could catch up with her and try to straighten things out. He had nothing against Hufflepuff House, and he didn't want anyone thinking he was a liar. Surely he could make her see sense, and they could be friends again. He sped up as Susan disappeared under the bleachers, hoping to catch up with her before she reached the other side.

A flash of light bloomed beneath the bleachers, making Neville start. The flash was followed by a startled cry and a wordless shriek of rage.

"Susan?" Neville broke into a run, pulling his wand from his pocket as he went.

He slowed as he reached the lower bleachers and slipped beneath them. Holding his wand out before him, he moved cautiously, trying to remember everything Harry had taught him in the DA the previous year. If Susan truly was in danger, blundering ahead blindly wouldn't do her any good.

He heard muted voices nearby and followed them, trying to step quietly. It was growing quite dark as the sun set, and the space beneath the bleachers was shrouded in deepening shadows, making it difficult to see. Neville hoped he found the source of the voices soon, before the gathering darkness made him stumble into a support, thus giving away his position; or forced him into using the Lumos Charm, which would have the same effect.

"Malfoy, undo this jinx this instant!" Susan's voice was outraged, yet Neville could hear a subtle thread of fear within the bravado.

"Crabbe, you idiot," Neville heard Malfoy snap. "You were supposed to wait until Longbottom came into view, not hex the first person you saw!" Even in a snappish mood, the other boy's words were spoken with that characteristic mocking drawl Neville despised so much.

His eyes narrowed. So Susan had fallen victim to an ambush meant for him. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Crabbe and Goyle couldn't be pleased with their detentions; and Neville's performance at the recently concluded tryout would have hit Malfoy where it hurt most---his pride.

"Malfoy, I'm warning you..."

"Warning me of what?" Draco sounded amused. "You're the one who's leg-locked, Bones. What are you going to do, glare me to death?" He paused. "You don't seriously think that Longbottom will come and save you, do you? He probably ran away the moment you screamed. I'll never understand how he got into Gryffindor."

"Maybe it's because he's braver than you'll ever be!" Susan shot back angrily.

Despite himself, Neville grinned. It was almost as though they hadn't been arguing less than fifteen minutes earlier. Her unquestioning support warmed him. Now, if he could only do something to justify that support...

He edged closer. Hiding behind a support, he carefully peeked around the corner.

Susan was on the ground, her legs extended stiffly before her. She was using her hands to push herself away from three boys who watched her efforts with varying degrees of amusement on their faces. Susan's face was red with anger and humiliation, her robes were smudged with dirt, and her braid had come half undone.

"Where is Longbottom, anyway?" Draco asked. "I figured he'd be with you. You've been seen together often enough these past couple of weeks. All that fawning and lovey-dovey fluff you slathered on him---it was enough to turn anyone's stomach. I thought even you Huffleduffs had better taste."

"You're an idiot, Malfoy," Susan said. "It takes real desperation to go out with the likes of Pansy Parkinson. Talk about lack of taste!"

Malfoy's pointed face twisted in anger. "You talk too much." He pointed his wand at her.

Before he could say anything, Neville left his hiding place, his own wand extended. "Expelliarmus!" Draco's wand left his hand and sailed neatly into Neville's. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him in dumb amazement.

"What are you two waiting for?" Draco nearly shrieked. "Hex him!"

"I don't think so." Neville stepped forward, keeping his wand trained on the blond boy. "If I hear so much as a syllable out of either one of you without my say-so, we're going to find out if Malfoy here makes as nice an earthworm as he did a ferret. You remember that day in Transfiguration, don't you, Malfoy? I kept my notes. I can do both versions of the spell now. So which do you prefer---do you want to be a big worm, or a little one?" He took another step forward. "Oh, I forgot. You're already a worm. This shouldn't be too hard at all." He gave his wand an experimental wave; and Draco's already-pale face became even paler. Beside him Crabbe raised his own wand hesitantly.

Neville flicked his gaze towards the other Slytherin. "I wouldn't." The other boy subsided, and he resumed his staring match with Draco. "You were the one who hexed Susan, Crabbe?"

"I'm telling Professor Snape!" Draco huffed.

"Tell him," Neville said. "I don't care. Crabbe, you haven't answered my question."

"Erm...yes?" The other boy cringed, obviously expecting to be hexed himself.

"Then unhex her. Now."

Crabbe looked over at Draco, almost as though asking permission. Pathetic, Neville thought. At least I can think for myself.

"Do it." Malfoy's lips barely moved as he gave the order.

It took two tries, but Crabbe managed to perform the countercurse. Susan sprang to her feet, wand in hand. From her expression, a good hexing was the least the three Slytherins had to worry about. Neville felt reasonably confident about his chances should a duel occur. He and Susan had both been in the DA, unlike the three they faced.

Draco took a step back. "This isn't over yet, Longbottom," he said, his voice low. "It's only beginning. You're going to regret making me look like an idiot out there tonight. You're going to regret you ever crossed me at all."

"I'm shaking," Neville said sarcastically. "Honestly, Malfoy, it's just a stupid game. So I enjoyed seeing you miss catching the Snitch. So what? You would have done the same if our places were reversed."

"I'd just watch your back, if I were you," Draco said, still in that low, menacing tone. His gray eyes were flat with hate. Not dislike tempered with disdain, Neville noted with a touch of uneasiness. Hate. Abruptly, he turned around and walked away. After a moment Crabbe and Goyle followed.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Neville called out. He held up Draco's wand so they could see it before throwing it to the ground a few feet in front of him. "Unless you'd rather come back for it later?"

Goyle came forward a moment later to retrieve it from the dirt, throwing fearful glances at Neville the entire time. He scuttled back to safety once Draco's wand was securely in his hand, and the three Slytherins finally departed.

Neville waited until the sound of their footsteps had completely faded before he turned to Susan. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Susan looked down, brushing ineffectually at her stained robes. "Nothing injured but my pride. I walked right into it."

"You're lucky it was just a Leg-Lock jinx," Neville said. "Malfoy hit me with a Jelly-Legs jinx a couple of years ago when my back was turned. He's good at hitting someone from behind."

Susan kept brushing at her robes. "I said some awful things to you earlier," she said. "I'm sorry."

"So am I. I said some awful things too." He didn't think he had, actually, but Susan's evening had been even more disastrous than his own. He could afford to let the matter drop.

Susan looked at him, her expression miserable. "I can't believe you came after me, after what I said to you."

"You were angry. We all say things we don't mean when we're angry." Neville shrugged. "Come on. I'll walk you back to the Hufflepuff common room."

Susan sniffled once before nodding. "Okay. Are we still on for Hogsmeade next weekend, then?"

"Sure. I'm looking forward to it."

They backtracked through the bleachers onto the playing pitch. Neville didn't know if Malfoy and his cronies were still out there, and didn't want to take a chance that they might be lying in wait on the other side of the bleachers. He suppressed a sigh, not wanting to upset Susan further. Professor Snape probably knew that the tryout was over and was wondering whether or not he'd forgotten to appear for his Occlumency lesson.

"Did you see his eyes?" Susan asked as they took a longer, more circuitous route to the castle. "They were so flat and cold, it gave me the shivers. He hates you now, Neville, maybe as much as he hates Potter."

"Good," Neville said lightly. "Harry has enough on his mind right now. I'm just doing my best to help."

"It's not funny!" Susan stopped, seizing Neville's arm. "Don't you understand? He's as much as declared war on you!"

Neville's unease returned. "I know," he replied. "I promise I'll be careful." The emotional and physical aftermath of the confrontation was beginning to catch up with him. He felt as weak and fluttery as he had the night at the Hogsmeade train station, only this was worse. Then, he hadn't worried about retaliation. Now, it was a matter of wondering when and where Malfoy would exact his revenge. He gave Susan a shaky smile. "I'll watch your back if you'll watch mine."

"Done." Susan smiled back, and he knew he'd been forgiven for the earlier argument.

They resumed walking, managing to slip back into the castle without being noticed by either Filch, Mrs. Norris, or Peeves the Poltergeist. They were silent as they made their way to the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. Susan managed to fix her braid somewhat; but her robes were too filthy for a simple Cleaning charm. They would have to be washed.

Outside the Hufflepuff entrance, Susan turned again toward Neville. "Thanks again," she said softly. "I'm glad you were there for me tonight." Quickly, she leaned forward and kissed Neville's cheek before murmuring the password and departing.

Neville's hand went to the spot where Susan's lips had touched his cheek. He stared at the entrance in stunned amazement. She had kissed him. Susan had kissed him. He wondered if she would try again next weekend.

Still bemused, he turned and started towards Sybilla Snape's office before she went looking for him herself. He had a feeling that after what had happened that evening tonight's lesson would be extremely difficult for him.