The Light in the Dark | Neville Longbottom

Chapter 25: Coping Mechanisms

*CW: Alcohol Abuse & Sexual Content*

January 1996

The news of the Azkaban breakout had spread like wildfire around Hogwarts. Students and teachers, alike, were more paranoid than usual. Of course, Educational Decree Number Forty-One banned the talk of the breakout, considering many linked it to the "misfortunate events of last year". To no one's surprise, more students were siding with Harry about You-Know-Who's return; I assumed so after the common room grew increasingly empty while the Dumbledore's Army meetings took place.

Even Seamus Finnigan, who had gotten into a row with Harry over what happened last year, was now attending the meetings. Almost everyone was there... but me.

It also didn't help that Umbridge made the "Inquisitorial Squad" an official thing (Educational Decree Number Ninety-Eight), which gave Draco and his friends too much hierarchical power. 

Part of me wished that I had just stayed at the manor because life at Hogwarts was almost unbearable, and I was suffering because of it.

The other day, I broke into the restricted section of the library to find books on wandless and wordless magic. It wasn't difficult to do so; it just took a couple of confusion and memory-loss spells on the librarian and anybody else who was around. I studied every book I found. Of course, some were more interesting than others.

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"Wordless magic, if left uncontrolled, can be a gateway to dark magic in a wizard." I read aloud from one of the books. 

Well, wasn't that just fucking fantastic.

I knew that Hogwarts didn't teach wandless and wordless magic until the sixth year, for that particular reason, because our magic was more developed. And even then, the spells they taught were nothing compared to what I studied over the summer.

"Wordless magic acts on the wizard's emotions, so calming techniques are necessary for a wizard to be able to control it." I read aloud. 

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I had many calming methods; a combination of screaming and throwing shit always worked. I usually used those at home, so I had to find something else for school. 

And, eventually, I did.

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"You alright Malfoy?" Fred hesitated, "You don't usually buy this stuff..."

"Yes, I'm fine," I said quickly, holding my hands out to him, "Just hand me the bottle."

"Okay," Fred shrugged, handing me a bottle of firewhisky, "That'll be two galleons."

I plopped about seven galleons into his hand, and then forced the cork out of the bottle. I held the bottle to my lips, downing the liquid.

"You gave me seven?" Fred scoffed. 

I lowered the bottle, glaring at him, "That should cover the next... I don't know... eight orders, I suppose?"

Fred froze, unsure of how to react. I wasn't one to become a drunk, and Fred knew that. In fact, I had never consumed alcohol before the new year. I only started drinking to quiet all the thoughts in my head about the breakout, my visions, what happened on Christmas, Neville, Harry, Cedric, and anything else that gave me a reason to be constantly paranoid.

"It'll cover two and a half," Fred hesitated, "But I don't think I should sell to you anymore, Dawn. Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I'm spectacular!" I beamed, spinning on my heel to leave his dorm before saluting him "Cheerio, Weasley!"