Happy Christmas Neville

It was hard walking down the hallway, tucked as he was under his Invisibility Cloak. In one hand Harry was clutching the Marauders Map, checking it constantly for anybody that might stand in the way of himself and his destination. His other hand held tightly on to Neville's as he lead him down the corridor toward Dumbledore's office.

Neville's hot breath on the back of his neck was driving him to the edge of distraction. Harry wanted nothing more than to turn around and feel that breath against his face, his neck, his...no, there'd be time to act on those thoughts later. Now was not the time for that. It was time to give Neville his Christmas gift.

Like the Mirror of Erised from his first year, Harry was drawn to the memories contained in Dumbledore's Pensieve because it showed him his parents. He'd visited it almost nightly since that first night during September when Dumbledore had allowed him to peer into it, sifting for clues to Tom Riddle's past.

As they entered the office, Harry dropped the cloak. Still clutching Neville's hand, he led him across the office.

"Wh-what are we doing in here, Harry?" Neville asked, panic evident in his voice. "We'll get in trouble!"

Neville was nervous and Harry could tell, not just by his stuttering, but by the clammy hand held tightly in his own. Neville's hands were always clammy. Harry had learned earlier in the school year that the boy usually walked around with a handkerchief jammed in each pocket. Whenever his hands got to sweaty, Neville would jam his hands into his pockets and clutch the handkerchiefs, the cottony fabric wicking away the moisture from his palms.

"No we wont," Harry said soothingly. He tugged on Neville's arm, dragging the boy over to the cabinet. He toed open the doors and pointed at the Pensieve nestled within. "Close your eyes."

Neville obeyed, his eyes closing instantly, but he still protested. "Harry! What are we doing here? The Headmaster will catch us and then - !"

Harry pressed a finger against Neville's lips, silencing him. "Shhh, we won't get caught. Promise."

Neville was silent and Harry turned away from him, focusing his mind entirely on the Pensieve. He'd learned, after a few clandestine visits, how to call up memories of certain people, even certain situations. He'd revisited parts of his own past, even that fateful night he'd been left on the Dursley's door step.

Dumbledore had to know Harry was doing it. The password to his office door had not been changed, and the cabinet that housed the Pensieve was always left open, the doors angled almost invitingly. Harry had been through countless memories belonging to Dumbledore, of his parents, of Sirius, of Order meetings from the past. Tonight, though, he had something to show Neville.

Harry checked to make sure Neville's eyes were still closed, then leaned over the Pensieve even more, concentrating as hard as he could on Frank and Alice Longbottom. He imagined their faces, not as they had been that day at St. Mungo's when they'd bumped into Neville at random, but as Harry remembered them from looking through the Pensieve in the past.

Alice Longbottom's smiling face floated to the surface of the Pensieve, and soon after, Frank's joined it. Moments later a vision of Frank handing Alice a gold wrapped box appeared and Harry knew it was the right memory. He slipped his hand out of Neville's, sliding it up the boys arm and resting it around his shoulders. Harry touched the silvery matter in the basin with his wand and the boys were sucked into the memory.

"MUM! DAD!" Neville shouted inside the memory. He lunged forward, letting go of Harry's hand, darting toward his parents. It took him stumbling into a rough-hewn wooden table for Neville to realise something was amiss.

In front of them both, Frank and Alice chatted happily about their holiday plans. Though not visibly pregnant, Alice was holding her tummy like pregnant women often do; stroking it fondly, and looking down as she did so with a warm smile in her eyes. A tiny tree, decorated in green, red and gold balls was tucked in the corner, the only sign that it was Christmas.

Neville spun round on his heels and glared at Harry. "Harry, what have you done!"

"It's a memory," Harry said calmly. "One of Dumbledore's memories. We're inside his Pensieve. I thought you might want to see your mum and dad." One look at Neville's distraught face told Harry otherwise. He stepped forward and reached out for Neville's hand. "I'm sorry, Nev, come on, let's go."

Harry looked up and thought 'up' and felt himself being tugged out of the memory. Neville was rising with him but he let go of Harry and shouted, "No!" Harry was ripped out of the memory, Neville was not.

An hour passed before Neville's head rose from the Pensieve and he looked at Harry once more. Neville had watched the memory over and over again until finally he had it memorized. Every word, every motion, every nuance. Tears glistened in his eyes and Harry lifted a hand, rested it gently against Neville's cheek and wiped away a few tears there. Neville was smiling, smiling and crying. Though saddened by the memory, there was an underlying happiness in that smile, and Harry knew he'd picked the right present.

"Happy Christmas, Neville."