The Light in the Dark | Neville Longbottom

Chapter 44: The Bonfire

*CW: Heavy Sexual Content & Alcohol Usage*

August 16th, 1996

"Dawn, it's been a week. If Neville was going to write back, he already would have..." Hermione hesitated.

"You never know, 'Mione..." I protested, waiting patiently for Errol (the Weasley's owl) to arrive, "I'm just making sure..."

"Look, I know you want to fix things with him," Hermione consoled, "But I don't think this is the way to do it. If anything, you're going to make things worse."

"You know you aren't helping, right?" I spat.

Hermione shrugged before she walked up the stairs. I rolled my eyes, leaning against the dining table chair once more and continuing to wait for the owl.

For the past week, I've sent Neville letters apologizing and explaining the events at the manor and the burrow. I wrote and sent one every morning, and waited every afternoon for a response; I've received no responses. Either the letters weren't going through or he was ignoring them... it was likely the second reason.

All of the letters pretty much said the same thing. This was today's letter:

『••✎••』

Dear Neville,

I don't know if you're getting these letters, but I am so sorry for not telling you sooner. I'm telling you the truth and only the truth. I would never cheat on you. I love you so much, and I wouldn't throw that away for anything! I know that it was a lot for you to take in, that was why I was so hesitant to tell you anything.

I should have let you know that I was alive... okay? I regret not telling you, but you have to believe me, Nev. I wouldn't lie to you, you know that.

Please write me back,

- Dawn.

『••✎••』

Errol delivered mail in the early morning and at dusk; the owl was a mess, so I had to make sure I was present when the letters were delivered. I sighed, walking into the kitchen to quickly pour myself a cup of water while I waited. Harry was in the kitchen as well reading some sort of newspaper.

"Hey, Potter," I greeted, opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass, "What are you reading?"

"The Quibbler." Harry answered, not looking up from his newspaper.

"Oh... What does Lovegood have to say today?" I asked.

"The same-old..." Harry shrugged, "Are you waiting for Errol to arrive?"

I sighed loudly, turning on the tap to fill up the glass, "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry closed the newspaper, leaning against one of the counters, "How many letters have you sent him?"

"I send one every morning..." I seethed, taking a sip of water.

Harry grimaced, looking down, "Well... I wouldn't stress it too much, alright? I mean... it's Neville, how long can he really hold a grudge?"

I set down the glass, shrugging, "I wouldn't know because I'm the first person he's truly held a grudge against."

"You're not wrong..." Harry sighed.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash on the dining room table, meaning that Errol had arrived with the post. I quickly ran out of the kitchen and to the dining room. Errol was carrying five letters; I hoped that one of them was for me. The second the owl set down the pile of letters, I splurged through them to look for my name.