The Lion Leader
Title: The Lion Leader
Author: magikcat112
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,603
Summary: A Patronus is only as powerful as the conjurer, as Neville discovers during his most trying year.
Author's Note: Originally written for a series of vignettes about different wizards and their Patronuses, but can be read alone.
WARNINGS: Some mental torture, language, violence
-<--<^>-->-
“The wicked flee when no man pursueth; but the righteous are bold as a lion.”
- Proverbs 28:1
-<--<^>-->-
"Really good job, everyone! I'll let you know when the next meeting is by Monday. If you want to get in some extra practice before then, send a message on your coin and we'll set it up. See you next week."
There were calls of "Bye Neville!" "See you later, Neville!" and "Good meeting, Neville!" as the students left the Room of Requirement in twos and threes. With a bit of a twang in his heart Neville thought there must be barely fifty students left. It was a good number, but nearly two dozen less than there had been the month before. For some reason one face in particular stood out. . . .
Neville grabbed Susan Bones as she walked by. "Hey, you haven't seen Hannah around, have you?"
Susan bit her lip. "Not since dinner, I’m afraid." At Neville's look of resignation, she added, "But I don't think she quit though - she would have told me."
Neville gave her a small smile, trying to believe her. "Thanks Susan. I'll see you in Herbology." She nodded and left with Ernie Macmillan, leaving Neville alone.
Cushions and baskets had been scattered throughout the room, and the dummy that the younger students had been practicing on had been thrown haphazardly against the wall. Although he knew that the Room would clean itself up, he wanted some time to clear his head before he had to go to the common room.
Neville had to admit he wasn't surprised at Dumbledore Army’s dwindling numbers. The disappearance of Ginny and Luna, not to mention Michael’s nasty torturing, had been more than some students could take. Could he honestly blame them for being scared? Sometimes it was all he could do not to curl up under the covers and never come out.
Harry had made it look so easy. He had always managed to keep his head up and never seemed to doubt in his abilities once the D.A. got going.
But Neville wasn't the Chosen One. He hadn't faced Basilisks and thousands of Dementors. He had faced Death Eaters and both times ended up getting the worse end of the wand. Sometimes he wondered who he was trying to kid, thinking he could teach these students.
But if he didn’t do it, who would?
As Neville Levitated a couple of books onto the bookshelf, he caught a look at himself in the mirror across the room. He had received a gash on his cheek yesterday to accompany the ugly cut on the opposite one, and his face was a covered with bruises of varying ages. The most recent were the sausage-shaped ones on his neck, courtesy of a run-in with Crabbe and Goyle that morning.
He looked more like someone's punching bag than a leader.
Neville tried to push these thoughts away as the last cushion was piled and the dummy was placed in the corner.
He had just picked up his satchel when a letter delivered that morning fell out onto the floor. The Carrows had been watching him so he had not had a chance to read it.
Placing his bag back on the floor, he picked the letter up and tore it open.
It was written in his Gran's prim scrawl.
Dear Neville,
You must be giving those Death Eaters a run for their money. I just left an unpleasant visit from an Auror warranting my arrest. I won't tell you where I am in case this letter is intercepted, but I will say that I am safe and well. Although I can't say the same for Auror Dawlish - from what I heard, he's in St. Mungo's, worse for wear. Serves him right.
That, however, is not the point of writing.
From your last letter, you seem a bit frustrated by the goings on at the school, but I’m telling you as your grandmother and guardian, don’t you give up. You have become a leader, whether you’re ready for it or not, and people look to you as an example. Remember that, Neville, and keep fighting.
You have grown up into a fine young man - pure of heart and braver than many wizards three times your age. There is no doubt that you are your parents' son, and if they were not in their condition, perhaps only they could be prouder of you than I am.
I shall see you again soon.
Gran
Neville read the words again, smiling wide for the first time in what seemed like forever. He couldn't remember the last time his grandmother had been so candid with him - at least not positively.
But it didn't matter. Gran had said she was proud of him. Not of his father. Not of his mother. Proud of Neville. Her grandson.
You have become a leader, whether you’re ready for it or not.
Neville had always known it in his heart but the words hit him like a Stunning spell. Somehow, without realizing it, he had changed from a frightened little boy into a man students depended on.
Him. Neville Longbottom.
Harry couldn’t save them while he was fighting somewhere outside the Hogwarts walls. There was no Luna to help guide with her frankness and quiet wisdom. And Ginny was not there to inspire students with her stubbornness to the cause.
He had to carry the responsibility alone now.
If the D.A. was going to be ready for the day when they would have to put their skills to use, he needed to be the one hold them together.
Neville folded up his grandmother's letter, tucking it in his shirt pocket, and there was a new, determined air in his step as he left the Room of Requirement.
Yet, as with all sense of purpose, it was not long before it was tested.
He had only walked a couple of corridors when the light from the stars and torches winked out. The happiness that he just felt was draining away like bathwater down a pipe.
Neville swallowed. Dementors.
His first, brief thought was to turn the other way - Dementors were hardly under control these days and a lonely student could very well find himself without a soul - but he couldn't imagine that they were wandering into the castle by accident. Something was going on.
He slowly dropped his bag and drew out his wand before slinking, almost catlike, through the shadows.
Then he heard a scream that made his blood run cold.
"No! No! NOOOOO!"
He recognized the scream, but it had never sounded this scared before. Hannah!
Forgetting about caution, Neville raced towards the screams with his heart exploding against his ribs. He turned a corner to find the corridor empty. She had to be in one of the classrooms!
"Not fun, is it, Abbott?"
The second voice was slightly muffled, but he’d recognize Amycus Carrow's wheeze anywhere.
"Just tell me how you're communicating with that rebel band of yours and be done with it."
Neville skidded to a halt in front of door that pulsed with freezing cold, and he heard voices from inside.
Hannah was sobbing now. "No! Please stop!"
"Ah ah ah," Amycus giggled. "Can't do it, Abbott. Not until you tell me everything."
Hannah screamed again. He didn’t need to hear more.
Years later, Neville wouldn't know how he did it. All he knew as that something, whether it was adrenaline or courage, made him to grab the knob and throw the door open.
"What the -?"
For a moment, he saw Amycus twirling two wands in the corner as a large, silver shrew marched in front of him, watching the Dementor circling like bird of pray over Hannah as she cowered on the floor. Rage roared through Neville's veins, and he focused every nerve of his being on his Gran and the letter telling him how proud she was.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The room was filled with a dazzling bright light as a huge silver lion exploded from his wand and burst into the room in a soaring leap. Amycus’s shrew vanished, and the Dementor threw itself out of a closed window, shattering the glass in its desperation to escape Neville's Patronus.
"YOU!"
Amycus had seemed to get over the shock enough to turn his wand at the intruder.
But Neville was ready. “Stupefy!”
The older wizard keeled over like a dead Doxy.
Panting, Neville turned to see if Hannah was all right. To his surprise, his lion Patronus was still in the room, standing erect over the Hufflepuff's body like a guard as it stared at Neville with its deep silver eyes.
He walked over to the animal, the rage replaced with a mixture of awe and excitement. He had never been able to form a full-fledged corporeal Patronus before and seeing it for the first time sent a wonderful thrill through him.
"Thank you," he whispered.
The lion shook his great hairy head and faded just as Hannah slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. She blinked at him, as though not sure he was there.
Neville took Hannah's shaking hands and helped her to her feet. He didn’t like how ghostly she looked. "C'mon. We better get out of here before Amycus wakes up. I'll walk you to your common room."
Hannah wordlessly grabbed her wand from the Death Eater’s pudgy hand and they hurried out of the room, Neville locking it behind him.
He pulled Hannah behind a suit of armor as soon as she looked well enough to speak. "What happened?" he asked.
"Amycus locked m-m-me in that r-r-room after dinner,” she told him in a quivering voice. “He had only s-started trying to g-get information when you c-came in." She gave him a pleading look. "I d-didn't tell him anything, Neville. I s-s-swear."
"I know," he told her reassuringly.
"I feel s-so stupid." Her eyes were watery and she rubbed them with her fingers to stop the tears. “I kn-knew I could beat him. He was just s-standing there holding m-my wand, but I c-couldn't do anything."
"It's all right," he told her, caressing her back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "Of course you could’ve beaten him if they hadn’t been there. Dementors are nasty buggers. They could've affected any one of us."
"N-Not you," Hannah whispered. "You were . . . you were amazing, Neville." She was still shaking, but the look she gave him . . . he couldn't help the blush that rushed to his face.
"I d-didn't know you c-could do a P-Patronus.”
"Neither did I," he admitted. “It’s the first time I’ve done it.”
His head jerked when he thought he heard footsteps and he grabbed her hand again. “C’mon.”
They raced through the corridors without running into anymore trouble, and soon after Hannah stopped at a painting of a vase full of flowers.
"Now, get some rest," Neville instructed firmly. "Eat some chocolate, too, if you can find some. It really helps."
She already seemed better. The pink had started to rise back to her cheeks and her hands weren’t shaking as she tickled a yellow daffodil in the painting. The canvas opened with a loud creak, letting loose the chattering of students inside.
"You'll remind us how to do Patronuses at the next D.A. meeting, will you, Neville?" she asked softly. She was looking at him in a way that made him feel like some kind of storybook hero and it felt . . . good.
He nodded. "Of course."
And without any further ado, she stood on her toes and gave him a peck on his gashed cheek. "Good night, Neville. And thank you."
"Good night," he repeated in a hoarse voice. Was it really nighttime? Everything seemed as bright as Voldemort being defeated on a sunny, spring day.
Still smiling, Hannah stepped inside the Hufflepuff common room and closed the painting behind her.
Neville stood staring at the painted flowers like a fool for a long while before gathering himself enough to race to Gryffindor Tower.
He had barely stepped inside the portrait hole half an hour later when Seamus came panting up to him with a look of pure relief behind the brand new bruise around his eye.
"Neville! Bloody hell - I thought they had gotten to you already!"
He started. "What are you talking about? Who got to me?"
"Who do you think? The Carrows, of course!" Seamus seized his arm and dragged him to a dark corner of the common room. "You know that house-elf who’s been helping out - Sudsy? Well, he overheard them talking while he was sweeping the corridors. Did you really rescue Hannah with a lion Patronus?"
Neville smirked a little. "Yeah, I did. Gave Amycus a bit of a fright."
Seamus whistled. "It seems that's the last straw. They've had enough of you and want you out of here. Permanently."
He wasn’t surprised. Since reading Gran’s letter Neville he had somehow known it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.
"You've got to leave the school," Seamus hissed when Neville didn’t reply. "Otherwise you'll end up in Azkaban - or worse."
But he couldn't just drop everything and disappear. Who would lead the D.A.? What about the Room of Requirement? Who would close all the loopholes the needed to make sure they kept the unwanted out?
Wait, the Room of Requirement. . . .
"No, I don't," Neville said quietly.
Seamus looked ready to throttle him. "Merlin’s nob, Neville! This is no time to be noble -!"
"No, listen -" he motioned Seamus closer, and spoke in a hushed voice "- I'll hide out in the Room of Requirement. My Gran's on the run, so I have nowhere to go. If I stay here we can still have D.A. meetings and when Harry comes back -"
"If he comes back," Seamus interrupted darkly.
"When he comes back," Neville went on as if he hadn't spoken, "I'll be able to help." Harry wasn't one to pick up and run. The D.A. was for training fighters to help defeat Voldemort and his army. Harry would come back - he had to.
“What do you want me to tell the rest of the D.A.?" Seamus asked.
"Just let everyone know not to worry, okay? And keep tomorrow evening free. I know how to do a Patronus now and I want to teach you lot as soon as possible - especially if the Carrows are using Dementors as torture devices."
Seamus nodded, looking suddenly very, very old and tired. "I don't know if I can take much more of this, Neville," he admitted quietly.
He had never seen his roommate so forlorn.
"We can't give up," Neville insisted, placing a hand on Seamus's shoulder. "Harry will come back. I keep tell you it's only a matter of time. And when he does, we'll be able to make Hogwarts right again."
Swallowing, Seamus placed a hand on Neville's and squeezed, as though trying to draw his friend’s valor into himself. "Well, just keep yourself safe, all right?" He gave a small grin in an effort to battle back the dark cloud. "I don't want you getting yourself captured before I’ve learned how to do a proper Patronus. Last time I know I managed something furry."
Neville couldn't help it - he laughed.
"Believe me, Seamus - if I can do it, you shouldn't have a problem."
-<--<^>-->-
"Keep your fears to yourself, but share your courage with others."
- Robert Louis Stevenson
-<--<^>-->-
A/N: I love Neville, and his butt-kicking development in DH proved what I knew all along: that there’s a lot more to him then what some might think.
Reviews are welcomed!
Author: magikcat112
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,603
Summary: A Patronus is only as powerful as the conjurer, as Neville discovers during his most trying year.
Author's Note: Originally written for a series of vignettes about different wizards and their Patronuses, but can be read alone.
WARNINGS: Some mental torture, language, violence
-<--<^>-->-
“The wicked flee when no man pursueth; but the righteous are bold as a lion.”
- Proverbs 28:1
-<--<^>-->-
"Really good job, everyone! I'll let you know when the next meeting is by Monday. If you want to get in some extra practice before then, send a message on your coin and we'll set it up. See you next week."
There were calls of "Bye Neville!" "See you later, Neville!" and "Good meeting, Neville!" as the students left the Room of Requirement in twos and threes. With a bit of a twang in his heart Neville thought there must be barely fifty students left. It was a good number, but nearly two dozen less than there had been the month before. For some reason one face in particular stood out. . . .
Neville grabbed Susan Bones as she walked by. "Hey, you haven't seen Hannah around, have you?"
Susan bit her lip. "Not since dinner, I’m afraid." At Neville's look of resignation, she added, "But I don't think she quit though - she would have told me."
Neville gave her a small smile, trying to believe her. "Thanks Susan. I'll see you in Herbology." She nodded and left with Ernie Macmillan, leaving Neville alone.
Cushions and baskets had been scattered throughout the room, and the dummy that the younger students had been practicing on had been thrown haphazardly against the wall. Although he knew that the Room would clean itself up, he wanted some time to clear his head before he had to go to the common room.
Neville had to admit he wasn't surprised at Dumbledore Army’s dwindling numbers. The disappearance of Ginny and Luna, not to mention Michael’s nasty torturing, had been more than some students could take. Could he honestly blame them for being scared? Sometimes it was all he could do not to curl up under the covers and never come out.
Harry had made it look so easy. He had always managed to keep his head up and never seemed to doubt in his abilities once the D.A. got going.
But Neville wasn't the Chosen One. He hadn't faced Basilisks and thousands of Dementors. He had faced Death Eaters and both times ended up getting the worse end of the wand. Sometimes he wondered who he was trying to kid, thinking he could teach these students.
But if he didn’t do it, who would?
As Neville Levitated a couple of books onto the bookshelf, he caught a look at himself in the mirror across the room. He had received a gash on his cheek yesterday to accompany the ugly cut on the opposite one, and his face was a covered with bruises of varying ages. The most recent were the sausage-shaped ones on his neck, courtesy of a run-in with Crabbe and Goyle that morning.
He looked more like someone's punching bag than a leader.
Neville tried to push these thoughts away as the last cushion was piled and the dummy was placed in the corner.
He had just picked up his satchel when a letter delivered that morning fell out onto the floor. The Carrows had been watching him so he had not had a chance to read it.
Placing his bag back on the floor, he picked the letter up and tore it open.
It was written in his Gran's prim scrawl.
Dear Neville,
You must be giving those Death Eaters a run for their money. I just left an unpleasant visit from an Auror warranting my arrest. I won't tell you where I am in case this letter is intercepted, but I will say that I am safe and well. Although I can't say the same for Auror Dawlish - from what I heard, he's in St. Mungo's, worse for wear. Serves him right.
That, however, is not the point of writing.
From your last letter, you seem a bit frustrated by the goings on at the school, but I’m telling you as your grandmother and guardian, don’t you give up. You have become a leader, whether you’re ready for it or not, and people look to you as an example. Remember that, Neville, and keep fighting.
You have grown up into a fine young man - pure of heart and braver than many wizards three times your age. There is no doubt that you are your parents' son, and if they were not in their condition, perhaps only they could be prouder of you than I am.
I shall see you again soon.
Gran
Neville read the words again, smiling wide for the first time in what seemed like forever. He couldn't remember the last time his grandmother had been so candid with him - at least not positively.
But it didn't matter. Gran had said she was proud of him. Not of his father. Not of his mother. Proud of Neville. Her grandson.
You have become a leader, whether you’re ready for it or not.
Neville had always known it in his heart but the words hit him like a Stunning spell. Somehow, without realizing it, he had changed from a frightened little boy into a man students depended on.
Him. Neville Longbottom.
Harry couldn’t save them while he was fighting somewhere outside the Hogwarts walls. There was no Luna to help guide with her frankness and quiet wisdom. And Ginny was not there to inspire students with her stubbornness to the cause.
He had to carry the responsibility alone now.
If the D.A. was going to be ready for the day when they would have to put their skills to use, he needed to be the one hold them together.
Neville folded up his grandmother's letter, tucking it in his shirt pocket, and there was a new, determined air in his step as he left the Room of Requirement.
Yet, as with all sense of purpose, it was not long before it was tested.
He had only walked a couple of corridors when the light from the stars and torches winked out. The happiness that he just felt was draining away like bathwater down a pipe.
Neville swallowed. Dementors.
His first, brief thought was to turn the other way - Dementors were hardly under control these days and a lonely student could very well find himself without a soul - but he couldn't imagine that they were wandering into the castle by accident. Something was going on.
He slowly dropped his bag and drew out his wand before slinking, almost catlike, through the shadows.
Then he heard a scream that made his blood run cold.
"No! No! NOOOOO!"
He recognized the scream, but it had never sounded this scared before. Hannah!
Forgetting about caution, Neville raced towards the screams with his heart exploding against his ribs. He turned a corner to find the corridor empty. She had to be in one of the classrooms!
"Not fun, is it, Abbott?"
The second voice was slightly muffled, but he’d recognize Amycus Carrow's wheeze anywhere.
"Just tell me how you're communicating with that rebel band of yours and be done with it."
Neville skidded to a halt in front of door that pulsed with freezing cold, and he heard voices from inside.
Hannah was sobbing now. "No! Please stop!"
"Ah ah ah," Amycus giggled. "Can't do it, Abbott. Not until you tell me everything."
Hannah screamed again. He didn’t need to hear more.
Years later, Neville wouldn't know how he did it. All he knew as that something, whether it was adrenaline or courage, made him to grab the knob and throw the door open.
"What the -?"
For a moment, he saw Amycus twirling two wands in the corner as a large, silver shrew marched in front of him, watching the Dementor circling like bird of pray over Hannah as she cowered on the floor. Rage roared through Neville's veins, and he focused every nerve of his being on his Gran and the letter telling him how proud she was.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The room was filled with a dazzling bright light as a huge silver lion exploded from his wand and burst into the room in a soaring leap. Amycus’s shrew vanished, and the Dementor threw itself out of a closed window, shattering the glass in its desperation to escape Neville's Patronus.
"YOU!"
Amycus had seemed to get over the shock enough to turn his wand at the intruder.
But Neville was ready. “Stupefy!”
The older wizard keeled over like a dead Doxy.
Panting, Neville turned to see if Hannah was all right. To his surprise, his lion Patronus was still in the room, standing erect over the Hufflepuff's body like a guard as it stared at Neville with its deep silver eyes.
He walked over to the animal, the rage replaced with a mixture of awe and excitement. He had never been able to form a full-fledged corporeal Patronus before and seeing it for the first time sent a wonderful thrill through him.
"Thank you," he whispered.
The lion shook his great hairy head and faded just as Hannah slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. She blinked at him, as though not sure he was there.
Neville took Hannah's shaking hands and helped her to her feet. He didn’t like how ghostly she looked. "C'mon. We better get out of here before Amycus wakes up. I'll walk you to your common room."
Hannah wordlessly grabbed her wand from the Death Eater’s pudgy hand and they hurried out of the room, Neville locking it behind him.
He pulled Hannah behind a suit of armor as soon as she looked well enough to speak. "What happened?" he asked.
"Amycus locked m-m-me in that r-r-room after dinner,” she told him in a quivering voice. “He had only s-started trying to g-get information when you c-came in." She gave him a pleading look. "I d-didn't tell him anything, Neville. I s-s-swear."
"I know," he told her reassuringly.
"I feel s-so stupid." Her eyes were watery and she rubbed them with her fingers to stop the tears. “I kn-knew I could beat him. He was just s-standing there holding m-my wand, but I c-couldn't do anything."
"It's all right," he told her, caressing her back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "Of course you could’ve beaten him if they hadn’t been there. Dementors are nasty buggers. They could've affected any one of us."
"N-Not you," Hannah whispered. "You were . . . you were amazing, Neville." She was still shaking, but the look she gave him . . . he couldn't help the blush that rushed to his face.
"I d-didn't know you c-could do a P-Patronus.”
"Neither did I," he admitted. “It’s the first time I’ve done it.”
His head jerked when he thought he heard footsteps and he grabbed her hand again. “C’mon.”
They raced through the corridors without running into anymore trouble, and soon after Hannah stopped at a painting of a vase full of flowers.
"Now, get some rest," Neville instructed firmly. "Eat some chocolate, too, if you can find some. It really helps."
She already seemed better. The pink had started to rise back to her cheeks and her hands weren’t shaking as she tickled a yellow daffodil in the painting. The canvas opened with a loud creak, letting loose the chattering of students inside.
"You'll remind us how to do Patronuses at the next D.A. meeting, will you, Neville?" she asked softly. She was looking at him in a way that made him feel like some kind of storybook hero and it felt . . . good.
He nodded. "Of course."
And without any further ado, she stood on her toes and gave him a peck on his gashed cheek. "Good night, Neville. And thank you."
"Good night," he repeated in a hoarse voice. Was it really nighttime? Everything seemed as bright as Voldemort being defeated on a sunny, spring day.
Still smiling, Hannah stepped inside the Hufflepuff common room and closed the painting behind her.
Neville stood staring at the painted flowers like a fool for a long while before gathering himself enough to race to Gryffindor Tower.
He had barely stepped inside the portrait hole half an hour later when Seamus came panting up to him with a look of pure relief behind the brand new bruise around his eye.
"Neville! Bloody hell - I thought they had gotten to you already!"
He started. "What are you talking about? Who got to me?"
"Who do you think? The Carrows, of course!" Seamus seized his arm and dragged him to a dark corner of the common room. "You know that house-elf who’s been helping out - Sudsy? Well, he overheard them talking while he was sweeping the corridors. Did you really rescue Hannah with a lion Patronus?"
Neville smirked a little. "Yeah, I did. Gave Amycus a bit of a fright."
Seamus whistled. "It seems that's the last straw. They've had enough of you and want you out of here. Permanently."
He wasn’t surprised. Since reading Gran’s letter Neville he had somehow known it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.
"You've got to leave the school," Seamus hissed when Neville didn’t reply. "Otherwise you'll end up in Azkaban - or worse."
But he couldn't just drop everything and disappear. Who would lead the D.A.? What about the Room of Requirement? Who would close all the loopholes the needed to make sure they kept the unwanted out?
Wait, the Room of Requirement. . . .
"No, I don't," Neville said quietly.
Seamus looked ready to throttle him. "Merlin’s nob, Neville! This is no time to be noble -!"
"No, listen -" he motioned Seamus closer, and spoke in a hushed voice "- I'll hide out in the Room of Requirement. My Gran's on the run, so I have nowhere to go. If I stay here we can still have D.A. meetings and when Harry comes back -"
"If he comes back," Seamus interrupted darkly.
"When he comes back," Neville went on as if he hadn't spoken, "I'll be able to help." Harry wasn't one to pick up and run. The D.A. was for training fighters to help defeat Voldemort and his army. Harry would come back - he had to.
“What do you want me to tell the rest of the D.A.?" Seamus asked.
"Just let everyone know not to worry, okay? And keep tomorrow evening free. I know how to do a Patronus now and I want to teach you lot as soon as possible - especially if the Carrows are using Dementors as torture devices."
Seamus nodded, looking suddenly very, very old and tired. "I don't know if I can take much more of this, Neville," he admitted quietly.
He had never seen his roommate so forlorn.
"We can't give up," Neville insisted, placing a hand on Seamus's shoulder. "Harry will come back. I keep tell you it's only a matter of time. And when he does, we'll be able to make Hogwarts right again."
Swallowing, Seamus placed a hand on Neville's and squeezed, as though trying to draw his friend’s valor into himself. "Well, just keep yourself safe, all right?" He gave a small grin in an effort to battle back the dark cloud. "I don't want you getting yourself captured before I’ve learned how to do a proper Patronus. Last time I know I managed something furry."
Neville couldn't help it - he laughed.
"Believe me, Seamus - if I can do it, you shouldn't have a problem."
-<--<^>-->-
"Keep your fears to yourself, but share your courage with others."
- Robert Louis Stevenson
-<--<^>-->-
A/N: I love Neville, and his butt-kicking development in DH proved what I knew all along: that there’s a lot more to him then what some might think.
Reviews are welcomed!