Neville's Mysterious Pen Pal

Dear Amelia Sunsa,

Thanks for accepting me as your pen pal. I am a Gryffindor 4^th year too. I, honestly don't think that Hufflepuffs are a bunch of duffers. Anyway, since we are officially friends, I trust that you know how to keep secrets. I haven't told anyone about my parents so just make sure this doesn't go to anyone else. My father was an Auror. My parents were tortured for information about You-Know-Who's whereabouts. Whenever I visit them, they don't recognize me anymore for they are insane. So I guess that's all there is to it. It's really hard to recall what happened because it all happened so fast. Forgive me for not giving too many details because I'm--how should I say it?--sensitive about the matter.

Enough of my parents. Amelia, you guessed right. I was referring to Professor Snape in my letter. I always ask help from Hermione a friend during Potions. (Am I revealing too much already? Neville asked himself as he continued writing.) I hate being careless! It ruins everything--not only Potions, but my life--especially last year. I don't want to go into details because you might know who I am.

Anyway, let's talk about the tournament. First task was cool especially what Harry did. Whoever put his name in the Goblet probably wanted to kill him. But look--Harry is leading! That person wouldn't be too happy. I'm not against Cedric either because I would fancy a Hogwarts victory! Damn Malfoy and his badges!

You were asking about my likes and dislikes? I like Herbology, butterbeer, owls, frogs, Hogsmeade and Quidditch--even if I ain't good at it at all. I hate Snape, Bobotuber Pus, Stinksap, Dung bombs, and Slytherins. How about you?

Vertor

Neville was done writing the letter to Amelia. He rolled the piece of parchment and tied it to Trevor. Soon, Trevor was gone.

After breakfast in the Great Hall, Neville went to his Transfiguration class. At the end of the lesson, everyone finished their work; the guinea fowl they had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk. Unfortunately, Neville's still had feathers. Urgh! When will I ever transfigure something successfully? Neville reflected as he gave up trying. Harry and Ron stopped their sword fight game when Professor McGonagall made an announcement.

"The Yule Ball is approaching--a traditional part of the Triwizard tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Dress robes will be worn and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall said.

"Damn. I have to get a dance partner. But who would want to dance with me? Girls might think that I'm just going to step on their feet when I try dancing with them," Neville thought, sheepishly.

Neville went to the Great Hall to eat lunch with Ron, Hermione and Harry. He heard Harry ask Ron why girls had to move in packs. Neville realised how obsessed people are with the coming Yule Ball. This made Neville more nervous.

Everyone spent the Charms period playing games; however, Binns, Moody, and Snape kept the class working until the very last second of each period.

The next day, Neville sighed because he didn't see Trevor by his side. Oh no, Amelia probably have found out who I am and refused to write to me anymore! Neville thought. "Crap. No letter, no pen pal, no date, no letter. What next?" he told himself.

After eating breakfast, he did the usual: Classes, lunch, classes, and dinner. Even with the Triwizard tournament going on, Neville didn't change his way of life. He was so sick of his boring life for nothing was happening. After dinner, he went to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Just as he was about to get mad at himself, Trevor flew carrying Amelia's letter. There was something unusual about the letter. It was soggy and wet, but he continued reading anyway:

Vertor,

Hey! I saw your letter and I heard about your parents. I am so sorry. Come to think of it, you should be proud. Your parents didn't give their health and sanity so that you will be ashamed of them. By the way, don't worry about being careless because everyone makes mistakes. Don't say you aren't good at anything, because you seem really good in Herbology--from the sound of it. Anyway, carelessness is nothing--at least you don't hide who you really are. I have a problem with that. Well, you see, I am a shy girl but deep down, I am a girl, full of ideas, full of will-power, you know--full of life. It's just so hard for me to express it. I wish almost everyday that I may have a boost of confidence. I really want to show everyone what I've got but I end up being insecure. It's so hard for me to admit that I care for what others thinks of me. I hate it. Whenever I do something infront of someone other than my close friends, I tend to feel embarrassed of what I'm doing. It's kind of like stage fright but this one ruins my self-esteem. I'm also surprised at how I continued writing to you. Whenever I do something like this, I tend to be hesitant or regretful of what I'm doing. It's just so weird. You are an unknown stranger and this is just my second letter, yet you already make me feel so comfortable that you make me go out of my shell once in a while. Thanks for everything.

Amelia Nasus

Blimey! It must have been hard for her to write this letter! Neville thought, as he felt the teardrops that smudged Amelia's handwriting. He hid the letter in his trunk. Glad that Amelia gained his trust, he got a piece of parchment and replied:

Hey Amelia!

I read your letter and I just want to say that you should be yourself. If you have the guts to write to a stranger like me, then, you wouldn't have a problem doing anything you want to do. I know you have got it inside you. If you continue hiding your feelings, you might burst, thus, I wouldn't have a pen pal. Just think for yourself. Do not let others get in your way. The opinions of others shouldn't affect the way you live your life. You know yourself more than the others do. If anyone or anything is bothering you, tell me about it but for now, just lighten up and show your true colors.

Vertor

Neville tied the letter to Trevor and told him to deliver the letter to Amelia, whoever she was. As soon as Trevor disappeared, he jumped to his bed and slept.

The next day, Neville received no letter yet. He went to the Great Hall, ate breakfast, and attended his classes. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, one of which was that the Weird Sisters, a band, was going to play in the ball. Neville was so pre-occupied with attempting to ask girls to the dance, but it was no use.

I just have to grit my teeth and do it, he told himself.

He asked Hermione after dinner, but she claimed that she was already going with someone. Hermione pointed to Ginny. Immediately, Neville went to her and asked,

"Gin, er--I was just wondering if you can--er--if you want to go to the ball with me?"

"Gee, Neville! Why not? But I'm not sure, I'm not in fourth year," Ginny said.

"Please. Who cares if you aren't in fourth year? Come on, Ginny," Neville asked, pleadingly.

Ginny looked at Neville and saw that his eyes were begging for a 'Yes'. She sighed and said, "Oh, alright. You are, after all, a nice guy."

"Thanks a million!" Neville exclaimed, beaming.

Later that night, Neville went to the Boys' dormitory, and spotted Trevor with a piece of parchment tied to its legs. He knew who it was from, so he grabbed the letter and read Amelia's handwriting.

Vertor,

Hey! Thanks for the advice. I really appreciate it and I'll try to be myself from now on. Anyway, the Yule Ball is fast approaching. No one has asked me yet, and I'm really in a panic because I have no date. In fear of ending up without anyone, I, myself, asked some guys, but unfortunately, they all turned me down. They probably thought it was really awkward--a girl, like me, asking a guy. Anyway, other than thanking you for the advice, I really wrote this letter to ask you a favor. Can you go to the ball with me? I mean, if you don't want to, it's perfectly fine. I would really understand if you have a date, for I just want to know if there's any chance if maybe, you know, I could finally have a partner. Just send me your reply ASAP via owl. Thanks.

Amelia

"Damn! I thought everything would turn out to be fine. A while ago, I was in full desperation in finding a date. Now that I have Ginny, here comes Amelia, who is willing to become my date!" He told himself as he folded the letter and kept it in his trunk.

He didn't want to disappoint Amelia for three reasons: one, because she gave him many pieces of advice on how to become a better person, two, because he didn't want their correspondence to end due to this, and three, because he finally made someone happy and so comfortable in life.

Without thinking, he scribbled a reply:

Amelia,

Sure! I would love to go to the ball with you! The thing is, I might be a little late, because I have already promised a dance. But don't worry! After one dance, I'll be all yours. Hang on--how are you supposed to know each other? Can you tell me what you will be wearing? We can probably meet in the Entrance Hall. Reply ASAP. I'm looking forward to meeting you!

Vertor

Neville tied the letter to Trevor. After Trevor disappeared, Neville sat down in his four poster bed and thought about telling Ginny calmly about his situation. After a while, he, being a happy-go-lucky man, had just hoped for the best. Neville has always been the type who would procrastinate. Anyway, it was true he couldn't find anything to say, because excitement and nervousness invaded his stomach and distracted him from thinking of any other solutions.

"I'm finally going to meet my pen pal!" he thought, forgetting what to do with the Ginny issue. "What will she say when she sees me?" Neville continued asking himself in wonder.

And then, he came to realise that he had another problem--he wasn't the greatest in dancing. He stood up and walked away from his bed. He started practicing a dance his grandmother taught him, as he pictured himself in front of Amelia.

He stretched his left hand in front of him in level with his waist. He drew out his right hand, and positioned it diagonally from his head. With this position, he attempted to practice on his footwork. He stepped with his left foot, tiptoed on his right foot and landed with his left foot. Then, he did the same thing but started with his right foot, tiptoed on his left foot, and landed with his right foot. Finally, he tried combining the hand positions and the footwork.

At one point, he got very mixed up, and almost slipped when he saw a figure watching him. He didn't care but continued dancing his waltz, careful not to make any more mistakes. For hours in deep concentration, he had a muscle memory of waltzing, twirling, tiptoeing, and pacing. He tried to remember a song by Patrick Doyle, and started going with its rhythm. Reminding himself to look at the face in front of him, he practiced smiling and danced the night away.