6 September 1991
After the chaos of the previous Monday, Jim was noticeably more subdued.
The other Gryffindors were still furious about the points he had cost them so quickly, and he had received thorough scoldings from both his mother and Professor McGonagall.
He had written to his father to complain, but James was apparently in the doghouse with Lily after his own disastrous Howler.
She had sent one in return that had gone off in the middle of the Auror Office—”LET’S SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!”—and James had advised his son to let things cool down for a while.
Lily herself had not reached out to Harry.
He wasn’t sure whether she disagreed with James’s views on his Sorting or was simply mortified by her husband’s public meltdown at her workplace.
In any case, Jim and Ron avoided him, though Harry was certain his twin was already hatching some idiotic, Potteresque plan for revenge.
Meanwhile,
Neville
Longbottom appeared to have had some sort of falling-out with the pair and made a point of partnering with Harry during Herbology.
Harry had been dubious at first, until Neville nervously confessed that he was terrified of Professor Snape and desperate to pass Potions.
He hoped that pairing with an obviously intelligent young Slytherin might help him survive the class unscathed.
“I have three conditions, Mr. Longbottom,” Harry said, somewhat imperiously.
“First: we do not sit anywhere near my brother unless absolutely necessary.”
“O-okay, um, stammered. Mr. Potter,”
Neville
Harry took a step closer.
“Second: from now on, you keep your chin up, look people in the eye, and speak with confidence—whether you feel it or not. You are Longbottom of Longbottom, Heir Presumptive to an Ancient and Noble House. Just as I am Potter of Potter. If we are going to live up to the legacies our family names carry, we had better start now.”
He extended his hand.
“And third: you call me Harry.”
Neville blinked several times.
“Just as you will call me Neville, I hope.” Harry smiled.
He could have sworn the boy grew an inch and a half on the spot.
At first, Harry clearly got the better end of the arrangement.
Neville was a certifiable genius at Herbology, already speaking conversationally about plants from the fourth-year curriculum.
The Longbottoms had built their fortune cultivating and selling rare magical flora, and Neville had been up to his elbows in it since he could walk.
It wasn’t until Friday that they attended their first Potions class.
A crowd had gathered outside the locked dungeon door.
Theo joined Harry and Neville.
Malfoy followed a moment later with a sneer, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him like bodyguards.
Harry still couldn’t tell which was which.
“Honestly, Potter,” Malfoy drawled, “partnering with Longbottom again? You’re squandering what little status you have as a Slytherin by associating with such… lumps.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“You baffle me, Malfoy. I understand your hostility toward the Potters, though I have no idea what Weasley did to earn your instant hatred. But now you’re antagonizing the Longbottom Heir? Has your father instructed you to make enemies of every Ancient and Noble House?”
Malfoy’s face flushed, but his eyes hardened.
“I don’t think it will ever be possible for Malfoys and Longbottoms to be anything but enemies after what his grandmother did,” he spat.
Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced at Neville, who took a steadying breath but held Draco’s glare without flinching.
“He’s referring to an incident when we were both five. My Gran caused a scene in a crowded restaurant and loudly called his parents ‘Death Eater swine.'”
Harry pursed his lips.
“I can understand holding a grudge over something like that…”
“In her defense,” Neville continued evenly, “Malfoy’s aunt, his uncle, his uncle’s brother, and two of his cousins were known Death Eaters. Three of them were involved in the attack that left my parents… permanently disabled. One of them betrayed your family to You-Know-Who. His father also avoided conviction for several Death Eater-related crimes by claiming he was under the Imperius Curse. It’s surely just a coincidence that, days after his acquittal, St. Mungo’s received a massive donation large enough to build the ‘Abraxas Malfoy Memorial Children’s Ward.'” Read this novel at novelping.com for the best experience.
Draco and his minions bristled, ready for a fight.
Harry glanced down the corridor.
The Git and the Weasel were watching.
The last thing he needed was Jim getting involved.
“Listen, both of you,” Harry said firmly.
“I am not going to judge anyone at this school based on what their relatives may or may not have done. I’m not surrendering the advantage of having a Herbology genius as my partner over something that happened when you were five. Nor will I blame the Malfoys for anything Sirius Black did—especially since he was one of my cousins too. In fact, Neville, I believe he was distantly related to you as well.” He looked between them.
“We’re all going to be stuck with one another for the next seven years. Can we at least try to be civil, regardless of what our families think? The three of us will likely sit on the Wizengamot together someday. We may end up hating each other by then, but let it be for things we actually did to one another—not feuds we inherited like dusty family heirlooms.” Longbottom and Malfoy stared at each other balefully.
Then the Git called out from down the hall, “Hey, Longbottom! Don’t let these slimy snakes bully you! Stand up for yourself!”
Neville lifted his chin, still holding Draco’s gaze.
After a moment he turned toward Jim.
“I don’t know what you’re on about, Potter. Malfoy was just asking me about his Herbology assignment. Isn’t that right, Malfoy?”
The corner of Draco’s mouth twitched, but he recovered quickly.
“Quite so, Longbottom.
I’m grateful for your advice.
You’re a credit to your House,” he said loudly, then glanced at Jim, “unlike some others I could name.”
Jim pulled a face and turned back to Ron just as the Potions classroom door was yanked open.
Professor
Snape glared at the assembled Gryffindors and Slytherins as if disappointed there was no fight for him to break up.
“Inside. All of you.”