[ON HOLD] Clara Diggory, Secrets Discovered - a HP fanfic

Chapter Two - "Neville"

"D'you know Neville from school, Clara?" Stan asked me. "You 'ave this one," he said to Harry, shoving his trunk under the bed next to mine.

After a confused glance to the black-haired boy, I said uncertainly, "Yeah, I know... Neville, he's in the year above me."

Who knew why Harry was going by the name of another pupil, but hey.

"Take 'er away, Ern," Stan said, once Harry was sat down.

A bang, and then Harry was flat on his bed, thrown backwards by the speed. I glanced over at him, restraining the urge to laugh. As I got out from underneath the bedcovers, sitting cross-legged, Harry pulled himself up to look out of the window.

His shock at realising we were now on a completely different street was almost comical. I made eye contact with Stan, knowing we were both enjoying his reactions.

When Stan went upstairs to wake up another traveller, I turned to Harry.

"So, Neville," I began, "What brings you here?"

"U-Uh-" Harry looked uncomfortable. I raised my eyebrows. "Well, I'd had enough of the Dursleys so I took off," he fabricated.

I could see through his lie, but if Harry didn't want to tell me, then so be it.

"Okay then." I leant back into my pillow, wishing I'd thought of what to bring before. I could really use a book to read.

"What about you?" Harry asked.

My blood chilled, and I stiffened. "I'd rather keep that to myself, thanks."

"But-"

"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily, returning downstairs followed by a woman wrapped in a travelling cloak. Ern stomped on the brake and Madam Marsh tottered down the steps, her bag thrown out after her.

Stan was now reading a copy of the Daily Prophet, which depicted Sirius Black in a large photograph on the front page.

"That man!" Harry suddenly exclaimed, looking at the picture. "He was on the Muggle news!"

Stan turned to the front page, then chuckled.

"Sirius Black," he nodded. "Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?"

At the blank look on Harry's face, he passed him the front page.

I'd already read the article, so I simply watched Harry read it and then study the picture of Black.

"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan.

"He murdered thirteen people?" Harry said, handing the page back, "with one curse?"

"Yep," said Stan. "In front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"

"Ar," was the dark reply.

"Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," Stan said, hands on the back of his armchair.

"What, Voldemort?" Harry said, almost without a care in the world.

Stan blanched, Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard we almost crashed into a farmhouse, and my breath hitched in my throat.

I knew it was stupid to be scared of a name, but it had been drilled into me repeatedly growing up.

"You outta your tree?" Stan yelped. "'Choo say 'is name for?"

"Sorry," Harry hastily replied. "Sorry, I - I forgot -"