Hermione was furious.
The points had barely landed before they got snatched right back.
“Is he brainless?
Points I earned from Professor Snape himself!
Couldn’t he use that barren little brain of his to understand how hard that was?”
She was so angry she’d started using Snape’s favorite word.
Hylan was frustrated too.
Ron was like this for most of the early days.
Not a bad kid at heart.
Just a child.
Older brothers above him, a little sister below.
Not the cherished youngest.
Not the expected firstborn.
Stuck in the middle.
Even his wand, something vital to any wizard, was a hand-me-down.
That kind of thing breeds insecurity.
And too much insecurity was just like too much arrogance.
A poison that could destroy a person.
Hermione was still fuming when class ended.
“I don’t get it.
Why does he dislike you so much?”
“Because I’m a Slytherin?”
“Can’t that idiot see you’re not like the others?” She hugged her books, her footsteps heavy.
“Some ideas don’t change overnight.” Hylan shrugged.
Ron was a pureblood.
He’d grown up hearing about the wizarding world, about Hogwarts and its four houses.
He’d formed his opinions early.
His family had filled his head with stories about Slytherin.
Bad ones.
Add Malfoy and his crew picking fights every day, and his bias wasn’t surprising.
Years of stereotypes don’t vanish in a week.
Though, if he was being honest, Ron wasn’t exactly wrong.
Hylan was no different from the other Slytherins.
Maybe more so.
He was just better at hiding it.
“Come on, stop being mad.” Hylan winked at her.
“I’ll take you somewhere fun.”
“You’re not thinking about the third-floor corridor on the right, are you?” Hermione stopped dead and turned.
“That’s forbidden.”
“No.
Relax.”
“Then where?”
“Secret for now.
Telling you ruins the surprise.
And we should check on Neville first.”
Hermione nodded.
“I hope he’s okay.”
They headed for the hospital wing.
On the way, they discussed what to say to him.
How to comfort him.
They settled on one rule: whatever happened, do not laugh.
The Hogwarts hospital wing was well-equipped.
It handled most ordinary and magical injuries, including broken and missing bones.
Only serious cases got transferred to St.
Mungo’s.
A minor accident brewing Boil-Cure Potion was well within its capabilities.
Hylan stepped inside and saw two students groaning on beds.
They were still in Quidditch robes.
Probably took a spill during practice.
A tall witch was treating them.
Madam Pomfrey, no doubt.
What was strange was that several kids had been sent here from Potions.
Yet only Neville was still in bed.
The others had vanished.
Neville lay there with a white cloth over his face, only his eyes showing, staring at the ceiling.
“Neville, how are you feeling?” Hylan walked up to the bed.
“Oh, Hylan.
And Hermione.
You came?” Neville tilted his head, aiming his one visible eye at them.
“I mean, I’m fine.
Madam Pomfrey did the initial treatment.
Now I just need to apply some salve.”
“Where are the others?” Hermione glanced at the empty beds.
“Weren’t you the first one sent here?
How come they’re gone already?”
If not for the cloth…
Well, even without it, they wouldn’t have seen him blush.
The boils on his face were red enough already.
Neville looked at the ceiling, suddenly very interested in it.
He stammered and couldn’t get a reason out.
Madam Pomfrey passed by and handed him a bottle of salve.
“Madam Pomfrey!” Neville was mortified at being exposed.
“Oh, sorry.
I didn’t notice your friends were here.”
She’d barely finished speaking when another young wizard was carried in.
She spun around and hurried over, muttering the whole way.
“Another one!
What are the professors at this school doing?
Completely irresponsible!”
“Oh, you poor dear…”
It was clear Madam Pomfrey’s mood was inversely proportional to the number of students in her wing.
Fewer patients meant a happier healer.
Right now, with this many people here, she was in a foul mood.
Seeing the salve Madam Pomfrey had given Neville, Hylan and Hermione exchanged a look.
Then, with perfect synchronization, they turned their backs.
Both of their shoulders shook.
It took a while before they could turn around with straight faces.
“Were you laughing just now?” Neville asked.
“No,” they said together.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
They nodded with absolute conviction.
“Anyway, let me help you with that salve.” Hylan smoothly changed the subject.
He took the bottle from Neville and lifted the white cloth.
“Whoa…”
Hermione couldn’t help the gasp.
The boils on Neville’s face were red and swollen, warping half his features.
Up close, she could see a thin layer of pus slowly seeping out.
No wonder he’d covered his face.
It was gruesome.
Hylan didn’t flinch.
He used a cotton swab to clean away the pus, then began applying the salve.
His brow was slightly furrowed, his expression serious, his movements gentle.
Not a trace of disgust.
Watching him, Hermione thought Hylan was truly kind.
“Thank you…
Hylan.” Neville was so moved he was nearly in tears.
“Remember what I said a few days ago?” Hylan asked.
“Huh?” Neville was caught off guard.
“I said we’re friends.
Friends don’t need to be so formal.” Hylan smiled at him and kept working.
He noticed the salve was remarkably effective.
The skin he’d treated was already returning to normal.
Madam Pomfrey’s skill was no joke.
No wonder the rumors said St.
Mungo’s had tried to recruit her repeatedly.
They’d offered her the deputy director position.
She’d refused flatly.
Even so, St.
Mungo’s kept the door open.
The position was still hers if she wanted it.
As for why, no one could say.
At Hylan’s words, Neville’s eyes welled up.
Hylan really was a good friend.
Just as the wave of emotion hit, Hylan spoke again.
“After I finish with the salve, I’m taking you somewhere.
I got you a greenhouse there.
You can grow your own herbs from now on.”
“Neville, you’ve got talent.
It would break my heart to see it wasted.”
Of course it would.
If Neville’s talent was buried, Hylan lost a gifted, free worker.
And his easy access to rare plants.
Not gaining was the same as losing.
And losing big was something Hylan could not tolerate.
“Thank you.
Thank you, Hylan.” Neville’s voice cracked.
No one outside his family had ever valued him like this.
Someone as exceptional as Hylan not only wanted to be his friend, but helped him without a hint of disgust, and even thought about his studies and his future.
It made him feel like the luckiest person in the world.
Could there be a better friend than Hylan?
He thought of everything.
“This friendship, I, Neville Longbottom, am locking in.”
Neville swore it to himself.
On the blood and honor of the Longbottom family, he would master Herbology.
He would not let Hylan down.
Even Hermione, standing nearby, felt a swell of emotion.
Hylan was too good.
Always looking out for his friends.
How could someone be this decent?
She had no idea how Slytherin had gotten so lucky, landing a student like him.
When the salve was applied, the boils on Neville’s face quickly faded.
“Madam Pomfrey, thank you for healing my friend.
Goodbye.”
Hylan gave her a polite wave.
“Oh, no need to thank me.
Do be more careful in the future.”
Madam Pomfrey had noticed the boy helping Neville with the salve.
And now, leaving, he still remembered to say goodbye.
She decided he was a kind, well-mannered child.
Her opinion of Hylan rose considerably.
“Come on,” Hylan said.
“We need to find the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy getting clubbed by trolls.
That’s how we find the place.”
30+ chapters are available now and daily updates!