𝙮𝙤𝙪 || 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬

You spent the next few days of Christmas break either at the Gryffindor tower with the Weasleys and Harry or at the library skimming through a book of simple spells for some light reading. After getting a cold every time you went outside, you had searched for some simple heating spells, not wanting to experience it again and drink that horrid medicine.

You would run into Percy and his fellow prefect, Penelope Clearwater, in the library occasionally, although they were quick to leave as soon as they see you. It was odd and honestly confusing, but you let those two to their own devices.

If you were lucky, Fred and George would invite you to their pranking schemes, which was a whole new experience compared to being the victim. Most of the time you wouldn't join them if they were planning on doing tricks on the teachers, but you did have fun when you did them on Ron and Harry. You ended up apologizing to them when you couldn't sleep at night due to your guilty conscience.

Whether you liked it or not, the Christmas holidays seemed to end abruptly, and soon the rest of the students were back at Hogwarts. Susan and Fiona enjoyed their time away from school, even giving you little trinkets. Delilah was the only one of your roommates who had complaints about her holiday.

"Mum's old boyfriend came to spend Christmas with us," she lamented while aggressively petting her white-haired cat. "I don't like him. Mum keeps saying they're just friends, but I highly doubt it."

Once term started, Hermione, Harry and Ron were back to browsing books in the library while being secretive about it. Hermione eventually gave in and told you what they were trying to find if you promised not to ask why.

"We're trying to find out who Nicolas Flamel is," she confessed, "but we haven't found anything yet."

You volunteered to help them, but since your schedules hardly crossed and your breaks even more so, it was quite difficult to catch up to them. Hermione appreciated your efforts and told you that it wasn't necessary, but you still continued to try and find clues about Nicolas Flamel's identity.

You exited the library after another search ( and only a few minutes spent on studying for the final exams) but you still couldn't find anything related to Flamel. You wonder most of the time why your friends were even looking for him, and why they wouldn't tell you, but you kick those doubts to the back of your mind each time. For now, you'll report back to your friends, who are most likely in the Great Hall turned study hall for the day.

You were just walking through a corridor when a group of Slytherins crowded the path ahead. It wasn't until you hear whimpering and Malfoy's mocking laughter did you realize what was going on.

They're bullying someone again.

You grimace when you see Pansy Parkinson among them (you only ever interacted with her once, and that ended up with you in the hospital wing), but her presence doesn't deter you from catching a glimpse of their current victim.

You clasp a hand over your mouth upon seeing Neville Longbottom in the middle of the circle, his legs stuck together with what you recognized as the Leg-Locker Curse. He was hopping around what little space he had, trying to get past the Slytherins. He toppled over when Goyle tripped him.

Everyone was cackling, but you didn't know what was so funny watching Neville being humiliated like that. Your heart was thumping in your chest, but you push aside your fears just as you push aside Malfoy and Crabbe to get to Neville.

"Neville!" You exclaim while helping him as he sat up. "Don't worry, I've got you."

"Oh, look! It's the wimp's girlfriend coming to his rescue," Parkinson remarks. "What's the matter, Longbottom? Aren't you ashamed that a girl has to help you?"

Neville was shaking, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. Something inside you was bubbling to burst out at any moment, but you forced yourself to calm down.

"And aren't you ashamed of picking at him all the time?" You carelessly retorted. "Seriously, Parkinson, can't you and your friends stop walking over other people to feel superior? If anything, it shows just how pathetic you are to prove yourselves."

For once, Parkinson was speechless, having been used to her victims' silence whenever she tormented them. Some part of you was satisfied seeing her like that. Neville tugs at your sleeves as he whispers your name.

"You don't have to do this," he mutters, still shaking, "I-I can handle this by myself."

Your expression softens. You would have performed the countercurse if you knew it, but you wouldn't dare leave Neville even if you did. "Neville, no. I can't just ignore you and be on my way."

You help Neville to stand up despite his feeble protests, but your own legs suddenly freeze and stuck together like glue. You involuntarily let go of Neville and dropped to the floor, having been cursed just like him while the Slytherins were absolutely delighted with this turn of events.

"You're just as much of a weakling as Longbottom," Malfoy sneers, his wand still pointing at you.

The laughter coming from Parkinson and the other Slytherins only encouraged him. When Neville topples over again, they were clutching their stomachs.

"It's quite funny, actually," Malfoy drawls as he and the Slytherins started walking away from you and Neville, already bored. "How she's even more pathetic than Longbottom. I don't even bother to remember the first letter of her name."

And just like that, your pent up frustrations burst forth. Still on the floor, you retrieve your wand from your robes, pointed it at Malfoy and shouted, "Furnunculus!" with seething contempt.

A jet of light shoots out of your wand and hit Malfoy. Almost immediately after that, he collapses on the floor, screaming in agony as ugly boils begin to appear on his face. His Slytherin gang collectively panicked at this, completely ignoring you and Neville as Crabbe and Goyle rushed him to the hospital wing, followed by everyone else.

You breathed in and out deeply, adrenaline and anger fading as you realized you had just cursed Malfoy. You didn't even expect that to work in the first place, only reading it by chance from a book and jokingly casting it on Ron, who had sighed in relief when nothing happened.

That git deserved it anyway.

"Wow," Neville said slowly from beside you a minute after. "You...you just cursed Malfoy. What was that?"

"Furnunculus," you responded with a wince, "I didn't mean to do that. I thought it wouldn't work."

Neville was looking at you with a sort of awestruck gaze. "Wow..."

You pocket your wand, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. "We should find someone who knows the countercurse."

With great difficulty, you and Neville managed to stand up and hop the rest of the way. A few students who found you either laughed or just looked on with pity, but made no move to help. You suppressed the urge to curse them like you did with Malfoy.

The Great Hall was just up ahead. Neville was the first to reach it and the unmistakable laughter coming from the students echoed as he entered. You were just at the doorway when you hear a loud thud followed by even more laughter. Neville had fallen over and was now trying to stand up again.

"You see someone with the Leg-Locker Curse and your first instinct is to laugh?" You said loudly, failing to hide your annoyance. The nearby students were now stifling their giggles once they saw you were also struggling with the same curse.

None of them seemed to care except for Oliver—who had laughed along with the others until he saw you—as he immediately disregarded the fourth-year Gryffindor girl he had been helping. The fourth-year discreetly gave you the stink eye as he rushed towards you.

Olivet utters your name, looking you up and down before asking, "what happened? Are you hurt? Who did this to you?" In quick succession.

You wave your hand dismissively at his concern. "I'm fine. No, wait!" You said hastily when you see Oliver take out his wand, about to cast the countercurse. "Do Neville first! Who knows how long Malfoy had him stuck like that."

Oliver's face scrunches up at the name. "I should have known it would be that brat," he mumbles. "Lass, are you sure? It'll be quick—"

"I am fine," you insisted. "Just please do the countercurse on Neville."

Oliver concedes with a weak nod. He makes you sit down on the nearest seat (which was at the Gryffindor table) before turning to Neville.

Dean and Seamus immediately approached you once the captain was gone, asking you what had happened. You didn't have time to answer them when you feel your legs unglued from each other. You see red in the corner of your eye.

"That should do it," said Percy as he pocketed his wand. He stood in between Dean and Seamus, who took a few steps backwards from the prefect. "Now, tell me, what exactly happened?"

You were relieved that you were able to tell someone with authority how horrible Malfoy was. You start from the beginning, how you saw Neville being bullied up until the moment you cursed Malfoy. Dean and Seamus were stifling their laughters by the end of your explanation but Percy, unfortunately, didn't seem to find it as amusing as they did.

"You cursed a student!" Percy exclaims. "I thought your association with Granger would have some sort of effect on you. You know magic isn't allowed in the corridors."

You gaped at Percy. "They were picking on Neville!" You retorted. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Report them to a prefect or a teacher. You do know that cursing others can get you detention—"

"They were terrorizing Longbottom, Weasley," Oliver cuts in and was now standing between you and the redhead. "She had to do something about it."

"Like you're one to talk, Wood," was Percy's biting response. "I distinctly remember on our fourth-year when your whole team fought the Slytherin's Quidditch team for no reason—"

"We fought them because they insulted one of my teammates," said Oliver, sounding exasperated and furious. "You know how some of them can be a pain in the arse, Weasley, but your head is too big for you to realize that."

Percy grits his teeth. "I know very well how disdainful they can be—"

"Then why don't you let her get away with this just once?"

Percy hesitated. Neville, who was behind Oliver and never said a word throughout the conversation, suddenly spoke up.

"If anyone should get detention, it should be me," he said guiltily. "It's all my fault anyway."

"No, Neville, it's not," you instantly protested. You walk closer to Neville and placed both your hands on his shoulders. "I cursed him because he was getting on my nerves. It wasn't your fault."

"And he definitely deserves it," added Dean, "he's been harassing you since the start of the school year."

Seamus nods in agreement. "If anyone deserves detention, it should be Malfoy." He turns his head to look at Percy. "He's the one always bullying people."

Percy clears his throat and takes a minute to recollect his thoughts. "Fine, I won't give them detention," he said afterwards. He ignores the triumphant smirk on Oliver's face. "But consider this as your final warning, young lady."

You sigh before giving the prefect a tired smile. "Thank you, Percy. I appreciate it."

Oliver coughs into his fist and it almost sounded like he was saying 'uptight git', but before you can even make sure of this, Percy was already going off on him.

"Oh, I almost forgot," you said suddenly, ignoring their bickering and looking around the hall. "Do you guys know where 'Mione, Harry and Ron went?"

"I saw them running off, not sure where though," Dean responds with a shrug. "I think they're in the library."

You nod. "Thanks, Dean. Well, I better get going. Take care of yourself, Neville," you added as you beamed at the boy. "Don't hesitate to tell me if Malfoy ever bullies you again."

"You would do that...for me? Why?" He asked, face scrunched up in puzzlement.

You tilt your head. "Why? It's because you're my friend, silly," you stated, as if it were already obvious. "You're worth cursing Malfoy for."

Neville turns slightly red. "I am?"

Instead of answering him, you pull him closer and place a chaste kiss on his cheek. The redness on his face intensifies when you pull away.

"I wouldn't have cursed him if you weren't," you grin, patting his shoulder. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy, Neville, and if anyone deserves to be called pathetic, it's him and not you."

Neville doesn't say anything. His mouth was open and his blush was still present even when you left the Great Hall. He doesn't take notice of Seamus' glare or Dean's sniggers, or of anything in the hall, really.

All he could think about at that moment and for the rest of the day was you.