Bottom
Neville follows Luna's slow sway through the corridors, but hurries to catch up with her so as not to fall too far behind. "Couldn't we have sent Ginny there to the Potions classroom?" he asks, scratching his nose.
"Guinevere?" the witch smiles, "Snape hates her, something must have happened this summer at her house, you know? I think she unintentionally wedged his cloak under a chair."
"And she's not dead?"
"No, she is not dead, however, Snape gives her frightening looks during class." Ravenclaw shrugs, wiggling her radish earrings. "He's not all that different from usual, throwing dirty looks at every student."
Neville stifles a laugh and brings a hand in front of his mouth. "It reassures me that he does that with everyone, then."
"Not with everyone, I know it's much worse with you." She points out to him, planting herself in front of the classroom door and peering through the glass window to make sure it's empty. "Oh, but there's Draco!"
"Draco?"
He doesn't hear an answer, because Luna has already entered the classroom and is tapping the Slytherin's shoulder. Neville looks at them, but does not set foot in the room: what is the spell that fills the air? Why is his sweet friend running around calling Malfoy names?
"What's up?" Voices muffled in his ear, he barely understands that Draco is fine, but he is a little tired because he went to bed late. However, the magic soon breaks: it seems the Slytherin prefers the use of last names.
"Look, are you going to move or are you going to be a door?" Neville turns and his eyes end in Pansy Parkinson's annoyed ones, "I'm trying to get to Draco." She continues undaunted, staring at the nails on her right hand. The Gryffindor-which so much Gryffindor doesn't feel like it- nods, moves a few steps into the classroom and searches her eyes for her lifeline: Luna, however, is still busy telling Draco about the Nargles on her shoulder.
"You see, there are three of them."
"Lovegood, I told you before, these things don't exist." The witch smiles, straightens up a bit, and finally looks at Longbottom.
"Gryffindor and Ravenclaw roaming the dungeons undisturbed? Hogwarts has really hit rock bottom." Pansy sets her bag down on the table. "Is there no more room in the stables?"
"Why should we go to the stables? There are no Nargles there." Luna raises an eyebrow and casts her silvery eyes on Draco's face. She feels deep sympathy for him, no matter how many times she has spoken to him roughly five times.
Neville takes courage - now he feels a Gryffindor - and goes next to his friend. "At least the stables have better air."
"Horse dung is better air?" Pansy retorts, leaning her palms against the wood and licking her lips. They are suddenly so close.
"Better than your perfume." Neville concludes chirpily, as her scent fills his nostrils: it's really not that bad, it smells like lavender, and he has to bite his lip and close his fingers into fists to keep from telling her that it suits her very well instead.
Draco rolls his eyes, "Loovegood, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, yeah." Luna seems to awaken from a deep sleep, slips her hand into her cloak and pulls out her wand, "Accio matches!"