This is a fanfiction written in Neville’s perspective as he enters into his seventh year at Hogwarts. I always wondered what Neville was going through while Harry, Ron, and Hermione searched for Horcruxes, so I decided to write about what his experience might have been like. I’ll most likely be adding to this story in future posts. Hope you enjoy 🙂

“Neville, you had better not have forgotten anything else!”

Neville winced. He had nearly left his wand on his bed this morning. His wand. And then there had been his robes which he’d left in his closet. He’d thought he finally had everything gathered, until they arrived at King’s Cross Station, and he’d lost his herbology book.

“Honestly,” his grandmother had said, shaking her head. “How does someone lose a book that was in a trunk?”

She was a bit exasperated by now, which was saying something. Neville’s grandmother had grown accustomed to his unusual knack for misplacing nearly everything he touched. She was now rifling through his trunk with a frown, making sure he hadn’t somehow lost something else.

“Neville!” He spun around to see a head of flaming red hair making its way toward him.

“Ginny!” He sighed, somewhat relieved. He’d be spared from a full-blown reprimanding from his grandmother.

Ginny came into view, after shouldering her way through the crowded platform. She was wearing an olive-green sweater and simple jeans. She looked weary, and her eyes were slightly red, as if she’d been crying. She smiled genuinely at him nonetheless.

“Hey Neville! Do you happen to be missing a toad?” She asked, holding out her hands.

Neville’s eyes widened. His grandmother’s head jerked up.

“But — ,” he touched his shoulder where he could’ve sworn Trevor had been moments earlier.

His grandmother’s nostrils flared, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Thank you, dear,” she said kindly to Ginny, taking the toad from her hands.

“Of course,” Ginny replied, looking as if she was about to burst out laughing.

Neville’s grandmother placed Trevor firmly in his free hand, and gave him a stern look. She didn’t have to voice anything; the message was clear.

“You two should get going,” she said, nodding toward the train and closing up Neville’s trunk. “It’s nearly eleven o’clock.”

“Right,” mumbled Neville.

He carefully placed Trevor in his pocket and quickly hugged his grandmother.

“You be careful,” she said, patting his back.

He grimaced. Augusta Longbottom wasn’t one for mushy goodbyes, but given the times … Her behaviour only confirmed his worries.

“Bye, grandmother,” he called, heaving his trunk toward the train, while Ginny followed in toe.

Neville and Ginny boarded the train, and had no trouble locating an empty compartment.

“Bunch of parents probably pulled their children out of school because of Snape,” Ginny said, voicing Neville’s thought. “Mum was reluctant to let me go, but I insisted. I couldn’t just stay at home all day, you know?”

Neville nodded and smiled faintly at the thought of his own grandmother making him stay home. She’d never do such a thing.

He placed Trevor haphazardly onto the windowsill and, with the help of Ginny, hauled his trunk up onto the rack above the seats. Then, remembering his venomous tentacula, brought the trunk back down to retrieve it from the side pocket where he kept it. After laboriously returning his trunk back to its place upon the rack, he and Ginny finally settled down on the plush, maroon seats of the Hogwarts Express. Neville glanced out the window, and could just barely make out the bird on his grandmother’s hat. He watched it grow smaller and smaller as the train pulled away from the station and started picking up speed.

-Elina T.

Just a random piece of creative writing inspired by the recent gloomy weather.

I close my eyes and tilt my head toward the boundless sky above me. Cool drops of rain hit my face, and I spin around, stumbling slightly and teetering at the edge of the lake before me. I slowly open my eyes and blink away the water droplets clinging to my lashes.

The lake’s surface is a chaotic melody of splashes of water and numerous miniature ripples. I kneel down, and run my hand through the freezing lake water. My fingers leave streaks in their wake, which promptly disappear under more raindrops.

The clouds seem to have perennial sums of rain to let fall upon the earth, causing the lake to overflow, and the banks to become mini mudslides. The large oak trees opposite me across the lake sway merrily, their branches bending, and their leaves rustling.

I carefully cup my hands and watch in mesmerisation as raindrops begin collecting. Eventually, I let what water I’ve managed to collect fall from my hands into the lake. Under normal circumstances, this would’ve caused large ripples to emanate from the point of collision, but since the rain is so persistant, the effect is suppressed, and a moment later, everything is back to normal.

I spend what feels like ages by the edge of the lake, completely enthralled by the raindrops hitting the surface of the normally still and calm lake. Despite the nearly defeaning sound of the pounding rain, I felt a certain calm come over me as I stand by the lake in the pouring rain.

-Elina T.