"Hey, look! Neville's got a Remembrall!"

A few heads swung in Neville's direction as he brought a glass ball out of a package. "I've read about those!" Hermione piped up immediately, feeling the need to educate us on the subject. I quickly tuned out her mindless prattle and stared at my empty plate. It was white. I kept staring. It was still white.

I felt a poke in my side. Turning away from ever interesting plate, I faced Hermione to see her wearing a look of concern.. It took me a moment to realize her speech was over and everyone was eating again. As I had predicted, she and I had formed a friendship. It was now that I didn't have Harry that I was beginning to see how amazing she was, eleven years old or not. "You okay?"

"No, you see, I'm supposed to be Harry Potter's best friend. I'm having trouble coping with the fact that he's Malfoy's best friend instead, and at times I want to beat him into a pulp because even if I did sort of wonder what it'd be like I never meant for this to happen!"

Is that what I said?



Nope.

"I'm fine, Herm. Except." I suddenly had the urge to tell her everything, and opened my mouth with her looking at me expectantly. Realizing what I was about to do, I quickly thought of something to say. "Neville."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Neville?"

"He's so pathetic. I mean, look at him. Why is he even in Gryffindor? He shouldn't be here." I couldn't believe what I had just said. Had those words come from my mouth? I hadn't meant them, and when I looked up, I was assaulted with the staring faces of my classmates. I must have said it much louder than intended. Neville was even staring at me, pain evidently written across his face.

"I'm.I'm sorry you feel that way, Ron." Then gathering his Remembrall, he left the table.

I stood slowly, looking from face to face and noticing that I had attracted attention from other houses as well. I caught Harry and Malfoy snickering softly with each other at the Slytherin table. Ignoring the jab of pain I felt from that, I left the hall. I knew the Gryffindors would not talk to me the rest of the day, and I couldn't really blame them.



Professor Snape was my hero.

Everyone in the whole school treated Harry a little different from the way I was used to. The other houses feared him a bit more, and Slytherins downright worshipped him. He was no longer Harry Potter the Golden Boy to them, but Harry Potter, the famous wizard who gave them a reason to brag. Yet through it all, Professor Snape found excuses to destest Harry.

It was wonderful, maybe even magnificent to see that Snape's feelings toward Harry had changed little to none. Sure, his grades were better, but that's because he paired with Malfoy and Snape would have preferred to die then give his favorite student a bad mark. It was a nice vacation to have something I was used to in my new life, even if it was hostility. If there was one thing Snape could do right, it was hold a grudge.

But that day I wasn't particularly worried about Potions. Hermione still paired with me, even if she did refuse to talk. Every time I caught her eye she gave me an unusually cold glance. When Snape turned his back, I took a spare bit of parchment out and wrote "I'm sorry" on it. Casually, I slipped it to her. She looked down at it, then back at me, and picked up her quill. The next thing I knew, the parchment was before me, with a bit of neat scrawl on it.

"I'm not the one you should be saying that to."

And she was right. So after class I hung around the dungeons for a few minutes (Neville had blown up his potion and had to clean it up) for him to come out. When he stepped out of the doorway and saw me, he glared. "What do you want?"

I shifted on my feet. "I'm sorry, Neville. I was in a really bad mood this morning and sort of blamed it on you. I didn't mean those things I said."

He nodded, and gave me a sad smile. "I figured you didn't." He paused, "Hey, don't we have our first flying lesson next?"

I grinned. "Yup. Let's go."

We walked there together, slightly behind everyone else. I kept apologizing for my behavior, and he was dismissing it good-naturedly, even though I could tell it still hurt quite a bit. Madam Hooch soon stepped out of the Castle and strode over to us, barking instructions. I stepped to the left of my broom and did everything she said easily. I had become a pretty good flyer over the years; I had none of Harry's natural grace on a broom, but I was far from bad.

Neville, on the other hand.

"Oh, it's a broken wrist. All right, I have to take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Anyone who gets on a broomstick will find themselves out of Hogwarts faster then you can say 'quidditch'." I listened to Madam Hooch, but my eyes were on someone else.

Draco Malfoy had Neville's Remembrall.

A thought occurred to me, Would Harry save it again? Would he dare? Was he still Harry, deep down? A chorus of laughs interrupted my thoughts as I watched Malfoy mount his broom. "Why don't I leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find? How about up a tree?"

I held my breath.

"Don't, Draco."

A little inner me did a victory dance to that awful Muggle music Dad was always listening to. I tried to suppress the smile that was threatening to break out across my face because somewhere, deep down, he was still the Harry I had known.

"Why should I, Harry?" Malfoy's voice was eerily even, like he couldn't believe Harry spoke against him.

"Well, it's not yours. He can't help it he's a squib."

Or maybe he wasn't. The Harry I'd been friends with would never, ever have said something so hurtful. Malfoy had been dirtying his mind with filth.

Malfoy half smiled, half grimaced at Harry, and then placed the Remembrall on the ground. Many of the Gryffindor's sighed in relief, but I knew better. I looked suspiciously over at him, wondering what he was about to do. Then, as if he were going to walk away, he lifted his foot. It was too late until anyone caught on to what he was really going to do.

He crushed the Remembrall with his foot, giving Harry a self-satisfied smirk. "Oops."

I don't know why, but I rushed over and knelt by the pieces. Slowly, I began picking them up, when I heard another voice behind me. "What happened here?" Madam Hooch demanded, watching me handle the broken shards of glass.

"Weasley did it, Madam Hooch! He and Longbottom had a fight this morning, and I guess he wanted to pay him back!" Malfoy said as soon as she had stopped speaking, "Didn't he do it, Harry?"

The entire class turned to look at Harry. I stared at him hopefully.

He eyes never reached mine. "Yes."