Thorn | Neville Longbottom

Chapter 29: I Would Never

Tutoring the next couple months had gone by about as well as a muggle car on fire. Neville and Briar both acted incredibly awkward around each other, and Neville had broken a record number of vases during their recent tutoring sessions from tripping over his own feet. This usually would happen when Briar got close to him to look at whatever plant he had been talking about, and she felt bad that her actions had made him so uncomfortable. His reactions to her in these tutoring sessions only reaffirmed her insecurities further: he just didn't fancy her like she did with him.

So, Briar had been sitting in her dorm one day a couple months later as she tried to study for herbology, but her mind was preoccupied. After rereading the same sentence four times in a row, she slammed her book shut and tossed it across her bed with a loud huff.

She checked the time and realized that dinner was about to start. She needed a break anyway. She tugged her robes on with a scowl, smoothing all of the creases obsessively as something in the back of her mind reminded her that one particular boy would likely be at dinner that night.

After trying and failing to press out one particular crease, Briar threw her hair back with a hair tie and gave up on her appearance altogether. She knew that she looked like death anyway. There was no hiding the black bags under her eyes that had only continued to grow after she received a confusing letter from her father a couple weeks ago that hinted at his promises of her future marriage with Malfoy.

Most nights, Briar felt as though she couldn't breathe, and she spent a lot of time on the bridge, leaning against the railing as the cold wind threatened to freeze her bones. She wished it would. Maybe if she could freeze over again, this would all hurt less, but now, she was attached to someone who she could never have and who would never want her back.

Her heart shattered more with each passing day.

Each time Neville evaded her glances or Malfoy stared at her with his eyebrows drawn down and a hard look in her eyes, she felt the glass ball inside her chest splinter and crack a little further.

It was truly a miserable situation, and she felt trapped in her life with no way out. She was kicking herself for letting herself believe that Neville could be her way out. He clearly didn't want to be. She was foolish for thinking that anyone would ever want to seriously be in her corner for more than just sympathetic comments and pitiful glances.

She felt her breath becoming ragged with these thoughts, so she stared at the dark green lake water lifting and sinking against her room's window to gather some of her control back. She fluttered her eyes closed and focused on her breaths.

Breathe in, 2,3,4,5. Out, 2,3,4,5.

With each second of exhalation, she imagined herself pushing everything she was feeling into the darkest, most hidden parts of her mind, and she slowly felt herself regain control.

When she opened her eyes again, she felt her normal stony expression had returned, and her breathing had steadied into slow and regular cycles once more. She marveled at how her childhood practices to hide her emotions still worked now.

Briar had almost made it to the Great Hall with an even expression and cold, calculating eyes. She was wholly in control, and it felt good. She could do this. She didn't need to feel her emotions. She just needed to use her old tactics again. Occlumency was a tricky sport, but she had long learned that it was best to switch up your practices when one seemed to stop working. That must be what was happening now. She was okay, she was in cont-

She came to an abrupt halt, her boots screeching on the floor at the sudden stop, when her eyes landed on Neville being surrounded by two Slytherin girls in the year above her. She strained and heard the one closer to Neville snickering, "Hi. I hear you spend quite a bit of time with Davies. What a pity. She's a bit...you know?"