Chapter six – of poetry and bookrecomendations
Chapter six – of poetry and bookrecomendations
“No, No! That doesn’t rhyme.” A group of fifth and fourth years were sitting around the Mahagonny desks next to the shimmering fire. It was a cozy corner with pillows and black seats, all in a very Slytherin style. Everything had to have a wave to it, soft corners and the chairs and desk legs had scales cut into them. Most impressively was the fire that, so rumor had it, changed with the common room's mood. Currently, it was a right cold yellow or really light green.
“You can’t just say he’s trash.” Pansy Parkinson's high-pitched voice overturned every other comment. Leigh frowned and came closer to take a look. The entirety of the big round desk as well as the floor and the smaller desks around it were covered in paper and materials for crafting. Here and there Leigh could see some words already written down. Weasley? What was that about?
“How about bin?” Malfoy was dictating as a pretty fourth year girl scribbled down lines next to him, giggling. “Straight out of the bin. Weasley is our King? No- Weasley was born in a bin-”
“Always let’s the quaffle in.” Theodor Nott, a boy who generally didn’t speak up much, suggested. He seemed mildly amused by the group effort of writing a horrible poem.
“Yes!” Malfoy laughed and threw his head back. “And then something with win- Leighton!”
Malfoy had his head over the back of the chair, looking straight at the older boy who was leaning slightly over him. Leigh kept a pleasant expression. He had an inkling he knew what this was for and it was maybe a bit tasteless, but harmless. Nothing dark, so need to inform Potter.
“Indeed. Getting creative here. After the pins last year I’m starting to think our house should be rebranded into the house of creativity and tinkering.”
Malfoy's cheeks heated, which was as always very obvious as pale as he was. The pureblood squinted and then shrugged.
“It’s fun and will give us an extra edge. Weasley’s as confident as a weasel. The moment he’ll see a banner Gryffindor will be done.” A few of the others giggled. Well- as long as it was harmless it seemed pretty good for Slytherin. A bonding experience of sorts. Leigh patted Malfoy’s shoulder in what he hoped would seem friendly in a strictly platonic way.
“Malfoy, I just came by to tell you that we’ll have your next evening shift together now.” Leigh felt that sticking by them might be of some help. “Also, make the next line: Weasley will make sure we win.”
As he walked away he felt the blonds gaze follow him and he could hear them discussing all the while someone sang:
“WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN. . .
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,
WEASLEY IS OUR KING!”
The quidditch game escalated to an extent that made Leigh regret not intervening. Leigh was a big fan of Quidditch, though not as much as Arthur who was one of the Chasers. Still, he’d tried out for seeker as he’d felt that was the best position for him and he loved having his own role without actually any teamwork involved. In his own humble opinion, he’d been one of the best during tryouts. He didn’t hold a chance though against Malfoy's money, though. There was likely the moment he’d started disliking the boy.
So it was that he’d found himself a spot at the very edge of the Slytherin tribunes to avoid the deafening ensemble of WEASLEY IS OUR KING! Slytherin’s students for the first time had abandoned their own snakes and signs and instead were wielding Weasley merch. It was quite a sight and to Leigh’s exasperation it actually worked. He could see the youngest male Weasel hanging onto his broom before the Quidposts without actually catching a single Quaffle.
“That’s humiliating.” Oretia giggled as she watched another Quaffle sail through the post. “He’s such a dufus. Spinnet is insane for picking him.”
Leigh nodded, both hands on his ears which looked just undistinguished. But there was no other way as the booming singing combined with the less than favorable weather were making his ears ring. Barely he could make out the figures flying around far up, the Gryffindor's being a bit more obvious with their scarlet uniforms. Lee Jordan’s booming voice was only barely any louder than the Slytherin chants of WEASLEY IS OUR KING!
“I need to go. I can’t hear or see a thing.” He told Oretia who looked at him confused.
“YOU NEED TO ME OR FIND SOMETHING?” She yelled over the new swell of rhymes.
“I NEED TO GO!” He bellowed back, the wind catching his voice and carrying it away.
She nodded still looking confused before lifting her own banner higher up and singing along. Leigh was pretty sure her new-found patriotism had less to do with a sudden love for Quidditch and more that she likely realized that Arthur was looking better now than last year.
Leaving her and a mildly disturbed looking Eva behind, he jogged down the stairs. It was not very elegant, he knew, running while pressing both palms of his hands against his ears, but it was just so loud! He fled to what looked to be a Hufflepuff stand. He saw the yellow tarps and jogged right up those stairs.
It was significantly quieter than before, though Slytherin's songs still dominated the arena. Leigh, still hands against his ears kept stopping and looking out through windows trying to get a better understanding of what was happening. Finally, he could hear the comments again.
“— and it's Warrington again,” bellowed Lee, “who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now, Angelina, you can take him - turns out you can't - but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell — er - drops it, too - so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!'
Leigh leaned out, looking over to what was happening at the Gryffindor hoops. The Quidposts were being covered by a rather frantic looking redhead. Weasley the youngest, as Leigh called him in his head, had obviously trouble keeping his composure. He was switching between the posts back and forth, obviously hesitant about which to protect, thereby protecting none of them.
'WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING…" The Slytherins boomed louder than before.
“- and Pucey's dodged Alicia again and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!”
Ron in fact didn’t stop it. Leigh watched the boy pendel and react too slow. The Quaffle flew to the lowest post as Weasley tried to protect the upper one. That made him too slow and he missed the Quaffle by more than a meter. The entire arena, even the Hufflepuff tower Leigh occupied, groaned. Only from the left between the masses of green you could hear cheering and clapping.
Leigh, hands up by his ears again ,kept running up, ignoring in his excitement the large amount of red dressed students who were getting more and more as he climbed the tower.
As Leigh could get a look at the open sky again the entire tower exploded in cheers.
“Fourty-Ten to Slytherin!” Lee Jordan called out happily. “Slytherin is still in the lead.”
The collective screaming made Leigh’s ears ring even more. He looked up and saw Arthur with the Quaffle in hand out-speed a black chaser, Spinnet he thought, when his hands were gently pulled his from his ears. Leigh startled and jumped, almost loosing his balance as something soft engulfed the sides of his head.
He turned around to find that he had to look up to see Neville Longbottom.
“What-?” He struggled. “Why-”
His hands flew up and he felt what the other boy had given him, Ear muff’s.
The soft kind with big puffs on the side. It had gotten significantly quieter than before, which meant the muff’s were spelled to be quieter.
“What are you doing here?” Leigh snapped, surprised.
Longbottom’s lips moved, but it was so subdued that Leigh had to gently lift one of the muffs.
“Again?”
Longbottom leaned in closer, his face right next to Leigh's, breath warm against the cold skin.
“This is the Gryffindor tower. Why are you here?”
It was?
“It is?”
Leigh looked around himself confused. True enough. What he thought had been yellow was actually just a part of a lion and everywhere were red spots. All the students were sporting red clothes and a lion was roaring somewhere in the crowd.
“Yeah.”
“Is there a lion?”
“That’s just Luna.”
Aha. Sure, like that made sense. Leigh blinked. Should he leave? Probably. His hands went to the muffs, but Longbottom with his bigger hands stopped Leigh. Why was the other boy so warm, while Leigh felt like a Snowman?
“You can give it back later.” Longbottom assured him. “Stay.”
Was the younger boy getting more confident? He had to, because he tugged at Leigh’s jacket and pulled him to the viewing point. They weren’t in the main part of the tower, looking slightly up, but that was for the better as no one paid any attention to the duo watching the crowd.
“LOOK AT THAT!” Even through the muff’s Leigh could hear that kind of yell. It could only mean one thing. Yes, there they were. Potter and Malfoy were neck on neck, broom on broom as they chased down something Leigh couldn’t see. Heading right for the Quidposts they were chasing the snitch that was invisible from that far away. The tribunes were busting with held back energy.
“HE GOT IT!”
Potter had caught something. As it had to stand still, the golden ball reflected some light off of it. For a moment, Leigh felt bad that they’d lost. He somehow thought that today was the day they’d win against Gryffindor for once, when WHAM, Potter got hit. The Bludger threw him right off his broom making the seeker fall the short distance to the ground. Mortified, Leigh leaned forward with the rest of the tribunes.
“Harry!” Longbottom called out, leaning over the railing trying to get a better look. “That’s a foul!”
The entire stadium shared that sentiment as angry yells and booing came from all around. Potter was getting up, apparently unkillable, and looking around for the perpetrator.
“That’s Crabbe, right?” Longbottom called out to Leigh, looking for conformation. Leigh squinted at the boy that was being taken apart by Madame Hooch.
“I think so.” Leigh nodded. “He’s getting a serious detention. Maybe even a Quidditch ban.”
“Damn right he is.” The brunette nodded angrily. “Bloody foul thing to do. I mean- It’s just awful.”
“I don’t mind the cursing much.” Leigh muttered, but his mind was already elsewhere. Malfoy and Spinnet had landed close to Potter and from their stance and the fact that Malfoy was talking it was clear something was about to happen. The other Gryffindor's landed, most noticeable the twins.
“I got to go.” Leigh said before running off, leaving Longbottom behind. “Prefect duties!”
The way down was way quicker, but it was already late when he made onto the pitch. There wasn’t anything he could actually do, but Leigh for once hadn’t thought that far. When he arrived, Fred Weasley was being held back by his teammates, while Potter was holding back George Weasley.
Malfoy had his trademarked sneer on his face and was saying something bad. Leigh didn't have to hear, but the glimmer in those pale eyes was telling. Potter froze and then he let go to throw himself onto the blond, followed by one Weasley. The pummeled onto Malfoy and Leigh was taking out his wand to deescalate when a violet burst of light short past him.
“Impedimanta!” Umbridge's high-pitched voice echoed. Potter flew away with a force that was just unnecessary and landed a few meters away. Leighton, wand in hand, stopped in his tracks to look back as the pink woman raced past him.
Malfoy, now free from the Gryffindor's, was on his side. His face, especially the nose, was bloody and he was curled into himself. It looked frankly bad.
“Merlin.” Leigh whispered as Umbridge build herself up next to a surprised Madame Hooch.
“How dare you!” Umbridge squealed. “Harming a fellow student!”
“But Mr. Crabbe-” Madame Hooch intervened, likely to put the story right. It didn’t help at all.
“Into the castle.” Umbridge ignored her. “And I’m taking those brooms. I said right away that I shouldn’t be handing out those permission slips! Potter, Weasley and Weasley! Your brooms!”
She looked around herself and spotted Leighton, who stood frozen on the cold pitch. Her face lit up.
“There he is. You came to help. A true Slytherin prefect. Take those brooms, Mr. Fawley. I want them in my office.”
“I- Eh, sure.” Leigh straightened his back and picked up Potters broom from where the boy had fallen, then George Weasley’s and lastly, Fred Weasley’s. That one he had to take from the boy's hands. They made eye contact and Leigh tried to look apologetic. Before Umbridge could tell him to get Malfoy into the infirmary he sped off towards the castle, feeling terribly stupid. He shouldn’t have intervened. Why did he even run onto the field? What was he trying to do?
It was only at the gates that he realized he still ha Longbottom's stupid ear muff’s on.
Leigh ended up spending most of the time to the break either studying or listening in on chatter in the common room. He spent more time with Malfoy who first wouldn’t shut up whining about Potter who was a barbaric muggle for throwing fists and then continued to try to sweet talk Leighton. Leigh didn’t feel the vibe at all and also didn’t get anything interesting from the blond.
At least he sort of got something on Umbridge. She, illegally one should know, opened up her own group. As much as she was allowed to shut down groups and certain individuals in the groups she wasn’t actually permitted to open any yet. So when, after the broom incident, she asked him to talk in turned out that she’d been impressed by his behavior, grades and general conduct. So, for better or worse he ended up in her Inquisitorial Squad that was for now as secret as Potter’s little dueling club.
Leigh hadn’t heard much about Slytherins joining the dark side, but he had heard that Potter’s defense lessons were gaining traction. Some of the students had improved in subjects even not connected to defense. It was puzzling how Potter had managed that, but it made Leigh more confident in his choice of sides.
Other than having to now add to his workload the meeting with the Squad, studying, prefect duties, making sure not to neglect his friends, meeting with Potter ever so often to tell him pretty much nothing and to help out decorating the castle he wasn’t doing too much. It’s a lie. Leigh felt himself be spread apart like a little lump of butter on a too big piece of toast. He slept like a stone only to roll out of bed confused and tired to the first class.
The Christmas holidays were his one shining beam of light on the horizon. Every day he stood up with the promise to himself that he wouldn’t do a single thing the first four days of the break. He would spend christmas at home, safe and sound and without any duties. So with that comforting plan he sat in the library trying his best to read upfront for classes so he wouldn’t feel bad for taking a break.
It was already dark out and he sat on one of the half hidden far away desks, with stacks of books, pergament and sweets all around him. He was eating pieces of pink coconut ice and from time to time a sherbert lemon. The second was strictly speaking muggle, so he had to keep them hidden Honeydukes mint box.
The evening progressed so much that he made it through half his sweets and a quarter of his potions and astronomy work, when he noticed someone approach him. He did ignore the someone until they stood right next to him, shuffling their feet. With a sigh he looked up to tell whatever underclassman that needed help with their homework again no, when he recognized who it was.
Why was it always-
“Longbottom. Evening.”
“Hi, yes.” Longbottom seemed nervous, but he wasn’t hunched like usually. He was standing straight, inch gave him an additional inch. “I just- We haven’t talked the past weeks. So- hi.”
“...Hi.” Was that it? He wanted to turn around again to his work, shutting the boy without having to say a thing, when-
“I- I hope I’m not bothering you. You said you found my mim- my plant interesting. And you wouldn’t mind some recommendations, and I- I’ve got this. I thought you might like it. I annotated it and- It’s a christmas present and I won’t be here over Christmas. So-”
Longbottom pulled out a very book shaped present. Leigh had to only take one look at it to see how carefully it had been packed. Seeing the Gryffindor you knew he was clumsy and had bad taste. But the package was wrapped in green paper that had a pretty and delicate vine’s all over it. It was packaged very neatly, but you could see that the black glittery bow had been retied at least five times. Leigh wondered how many tries the boy had made until he managed to get the paper around it just right.
The Slytherin took the present and stared.
“Who helped you choose the gift paper?”
“Ginny-” Longbottom snapped his mouth shut, embarrassed. So he really did try hard. Leigh felt bad. What had he done so they boy wanted to try and be friends?
“It’s very nice.” Longbottom’s face flushed and he wore a crooked but proud grin. Then he returned to embarrassed and worried. Leigh tugged the bow open and unfolded the paper. A copy of:
‘Siegfried Trithholms. The magic of the outdoors. A neat compilation of magic plants for your cauldron and greenhouse.’ was in his hands. It was a bit old and beat up, but still holding up well. Someone, likely Longbottom, had painted some of the little details golden, making them pop from the dark green bookcase. Gently Leigh opened it and indeed, in small letters there were notes next to the plants and some of them had been colored. Most interesting were the glued in pages with more detailed sketches of the described plants. Even some dried leaves were here and there. That seemed very- personal. Too personal. Was Longbottom an idiot to give this to a stranger? They weren’t even on first name basis.
“Longbottom, I can’t accept this.”
“Neville.”
“Neville?”
“That’s my name. I know you’re older so you should be the one to say this, but I really want you to call me by my name and I want to call you by your first name. -Please.”
“Oh- I- Eh, alright.” Leigh blinked. He wasn’t sure where Longbottom had gotten that new stubbornness from.
“Great.” The Gryffindor beamed. “So- Leighton. Leigh- I.”
For a moment he blushed, overwhelmed from overusing the name and likely the bravery he’d come with disappearing.
“I want you to have this, Leigh. It’s the only thing you told me you’d like and I know we’re not that close yet, but I want to be. If that’s okay with you. And next time I will get you something you will like better, because I will know you better.”
Leigh blinked, more than a bit overwhelmed.
“I- I haven’t even given you your ear muff’s back.”
“Do you like them?”
They were- brown with white puffs, not exactly Leigh’s style. Then again, they were helpful.
“Yeah-”
“Then keep them. I got more from when I had an incident during herbology.”
Leigh took a breath, not sure what was going on.
“Long-Neville. I- I’m not sure how you think this will work. I’m still a Slytherin and maybe I mistakenly made you think we were closer than we are-”
“You didn’t. I know we’re not really friends, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be -friends.”
A memory struck. The nook and Longbottom’s blubbering.
“Because I’m a ‘good’ Slytherin? Because I can tell you, I’m not that special. And I’m a year older than you and I may not be all about Bloodpurity, but I do care for some of the elements.”
“You’re kind. You take care of others. You were worried about Harry when he got hit and you comfort kids that get bullied, so you are actually good. And you’re also-” Longbottom’s gaze kinda caught on Leigh’s face the Slytherin thought, but Longbottom didn’t finish that sentence.
“Those are some of the reason’s I want to be friends. And I get I might be a klutz, but I’ve been working hard to get better. My grades improved and I’ve been looking at Slytherin’s more as individuals than a mass of people with similar traits. So- please accept my christmas gift.”
Leigh didn’t know anymore. Was befriending Longbottom really that bad? He did seem more like his own person, he wasn’t ugly anymore and- he had something of a mooncalf with those big eyes.
“We’re not hanging out in the open. You can write me letters, but don’t tell anyone. I may not think of you ill but my housemates do at large. -And I might change my mind and you will have to accept it.”
Longbottom nodded, like those were reasonable requests, which they weren’t!
“I’m good with that. Just- Yeah. I should probably let you finish your work and-” He was walking backwards and hit the bookshelf with his shoulder. “Auch- I’m going now.”
He turned around, his steps a lot easier than when he’d gotten into the library.
“Oi!” Leigh whisper yelled. The other boy stopped and turned around. “In case we don’t see each other before break starts. Have a merry Jul and a happy new year, -Neville. ”
“-You too.”
With that Longbottom almost skipped out of the isle and Leigh couldn’t help but smile.