The Light in the Dark | Neville Longbottom

Chapter 98: The Elder Wand

I didn't know how long I stared at Dobby's grave, but eventually the night fell, and Bill called me inside for dinner. For obvious reasons, I hesitated at first, but Bill was keen on me eating with everyone, even if I didn't want to.

"What guards the vault?" a feminine voice asked from the kitchen.

"A beast, Ms. Granger..." a deep voice grunted, "A horrible beast. There's a way to get past it, of course, but it won't be easy."

"And what would that be?" another asked.

I wasn't sure what the people in the kitchen were talking about, but I knew who they were. And from the sound of a feminine voice, I knew that Hermione had woken up and was feeling better. What I didn't know was whether Ron and Harry told her about my arrival. This was another reason I hesitated to enter the kitchen.

Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder. Flinching and almost screaming, I turned around to face Dean Thomas, who stared at me apprehensively.

"You alright?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes, shoving his hand off me, "I'm fine..."

"That smells wonderful, Fleur!" Luna beamed, walking into the kitchen.

Fleur returned the thanks as she began setting the plates. Luna joined her happily. Instantly, I noticed that the conversation about the beast and vault had ceased. One thing I hated about the trio was how secretive they always tried to be, yet always failed at it. Obviously, the thought to have this supposedly "private" conversation in their bedroom instead of the kitchen didn't cross them. It was stupid... This was exactly why I was pissed at them during my fifth-year.

But that didn't matter anymore... Then we were friends, but we weren't now.

Raising an eyebrow, Dean walked past me, "You joining us?"

"Give me a second, Thomas, would you?" I spat.

Dean inhaled sharply, turning around and joining the others. Once again, I hesitated to enter the kitchen. This was genuinely just a repeat of my fifth-year, except then I had Neville and Draco... I guess — Honestly, even that was debatable. I remembered this horrible pit of guilt forming in my stomach and becoming incredibly nervous whenever I ran into the trio at school then; I had the same feeling now. Except, this time the feeling was notably worse.

Sucking up my pride, I entered the kitchen. At first, I ignored the horrible glares and sideway glances, keeping my head lowered to avoid eye contact with them. Quickly, I grabbed my plate and sat at the far side of the table, still looking at the floor.

Even though I wasn't staring at them, I could feel their presence looking in my direction. The only one who wasn't was Harry, who treated me as though I was invisible. On the other hand, Ron's eyes were glued to me, glaring angrily. Hermione did the same; her knuckles turning white from gripping her fork too hard.

Despite this, I still ignored them, beginning to dig into my plate. Fleur had cooked shepherd's pie and a salad. This was the first real meal I've had in almost a year. I almost fell backwards out of my chair when the pie hit my tongue. The taste... the feeling... everything was just immaculate. This alone was enough to make me forget about the imbeciles at the end of the table for a few seconds.

"You two can eat..." Bill said coldly.

"How can I eat when there's a bloody murderer sitting at the end of our table in our home?" Ron asked rudely.

Don't react.

"ARE YOU TWO MAD?" Hermione cried, standing up from her seat.

Bill inhaled sharply, "Hermione, please sit down and eat your dinner-"