A/N: I wrote this chapter before I fell away from FF. I was going to hold it back until I was ready to start updating regularly, but honestly that's just not happening anytime soon. So, have a chapter. This may or may not be the last chapter I post for this story. These days I'm happily married, got a mortgage and a career in IT, I'm a singer in a band, and my consuming passion is competitive dancing (Modern Jive). So, uh, bit busy.

Chapter Three: Expected Consequences

Neville entered the Transfiguration classroom, and found himself alone with Professor McGonagall. Not good. She glanced up, and her face became a fraction more severe.

"Good of you to come early, Mr. Longbottom."

As Neville smiled nervously, the Professor closed and sealed the door with an absent flourish of her wand.

"Now, before I make any firm decisions on the matter, I wish to hear your side of what happened between yourself and Mr. Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express yesterday."

Neville took his seat, then met McGonagall's eye quite deliberately. When he spoke, his tone was nervous but determined.

"I was sitting alone with a new first-year, Luna Lovegood. After a while Malfoy barged in, bragging about what he'd learned over the holidays..."

Neville paused, his face pale. He very carefully laid his wand on his desk, then raised his hand as if holding a wand. Then he whispered, in a passable imitation of Draco Malfoy,

"Crucio!"

Professor McGonagall's lips thinned, but she said nothing. After a moment, Neville dropped his hand to the desk and continued in a more normal tone.

"I - I told him to get out."

"Did you threaten or insult Mr. Malfoy in any way?"

Neville shook his head, then reconsidered and shrugged slightly.

"I told him there was nothing good in him. That's all. I didn't move, didn't threaten him. Didn't say anything else."

She nodded.

"Very well. Go on, Mr. Longbottom."

"Well then he noticed Luna. He insulted her, and told me he thought I had better taste than that."

Neville paused, but McGonagall said nothing. He continued.

"I stood up then, Professor, and stood in front of him. I told him I wouldn't let him hurt her. He insulted her again, called her 'loony' again, and then he asked me if I fancied her."

"And then?"

"And then I hit him, Professor. Just the once. He stepped out into the corridor, I shut the door and locked it, and I've not seen him since."

Professor McGonagall held his gaze, secretly rather relieved that the Longbottom boy had finally found his courage. Not that she'd ever show any hint of that to him, of course – violence could not be tolerated among her students. She sighed.

"Mr. Longbottom, do you understand why your actions were wrong?"

"I won't let him hurt her! You weren't there, Professor! No one was, it was just me and Luna and Malfoy and his thugs! There was no one there to ask for help, and I won't stand by and let anyone hurt Luna! I won't!"

He glared at her. In that moment, he was completely fearless. She was silent for a long moment, and when she spoke her voice seemed the tiniest fraction gentler.

"Mr. Longbottom, it is not your place to enforce discipline in this school. While I can well understand your feelings at the time, it was wrong of you to attack Mr. Malfoy. You must understand, Mr. Longbottom, that violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts. Do you understand?"

Neville said nothing. His face was now blank, calm. His eyes still met hers, unwaveringly. She frowned.

"I believe I asked you a question, Mr. Longbottom."

He looked away with an abstracted air, but said nothing for quite some time. Professor McGonagall was beginning to wonder whether she would have to take more drastic action, but finally he turned back to her and gave his answer.

"I - I'd do it again. I'm sorry Professor, but I would. I'll take whatever punishment you give me, but I won't lie to you."

Minerva rocked back, wondering where this new Neville Longbottom had come from. She nodded slowly, face still set in stern lines.

"Very well. Detention it shall be, then. You are to report to my office immediately after dinner tonight."

Neville nodded.

"Yes, Professor."

The Professor waved her wand at the locked door, which opened to show a crowd of puzzled second-years.

Draco Malfoy's face was suffused with an unholy glee, displacing even his customary smirk. As he walked past Neville, he murmured sing-song,

"Someone's i-in trouble, someone's i-in trouble..."

Unfortunately for Draco, he had forgotten the sharp hearing of a certain cat Animagus.

"Mr Malfoy, you will remain behind after class."

Neville smiled faintly, but said nothing.

In the corridor after class, with Malfoy missing, Harry Potter fell in beside Neville.

"Hey Neville, what was that about?"

Neville shrugged awkwardly.

"McGonagall talked to me before class, about something that happened on the Express. Malfoy thought he'd got me into trouble, so he was gloating."

Harry looked more closely at Neville.

"What did happen on the Express? I haven't heard anything about it."

"Malfoy was bothering me, so I hit him."

At that, Harry frankly stared.

"Hang on, wait, what? You? Hit Malfoy? Really?"

Neville nodded, consciously ignoring Harry's uncharitable assumptions about him. Harry went on,

"Why'd you hit him, then?"

Neville looked uncomfortable.

"He was... hurting my friend. Um, look, don't tell anyone, alright? I don't want people to like me for hitting someone."

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Alright, I won't tell anyone. But people are going to find out, you know. And honestly they'll love you for it – no one likes Malfoy."

Neville shook his head sharply.

"That's just it, though! I didn't hit him because I don't like him, that'd be awful! That'd make me worse than him! I only hit him to stop him hurting my friend, and that shouldn't make me anyone's hero. That's just not right."

Harry looked thoughtful.

"What about if he hurts other kids?"

"Then they should go to a professor – that's who's supposed to deal with that stuff. That's what I would have done, if I'd had a professor there."

Harry looked thoughtful, and said nothing.

Luna was quite curious about Potions. She was the first to enter the classroom when the professor opened the door, and she drank in his theatrical opening monologue with rapt attention.

When Professor Snape read Luna's name and heard her reply, he nodded curtly.

"Ah yes, the girl who found such... amusement... in my introduction. Are you a Potions prodigy, Lovegood?"

"Not really, Professor. I've always been more interested in Charms."

Professor Snape paused.

"You prefer foolish wand-waving, then?"

"Well, of course I'll try not to be foolish about it, that's just silly!"

Snape smiled thinly.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, for infernal cheek."

He turned to the class at large, gesturing towards the front of the room.

"Instructions are on the board. Ingredients are in the cabinet. You will work in pairs. Begin."

Luna looked faintly puzzled, and a little hurt by the glares from some of her fellow Gryffindors. Then her expression cleared to one of vague indifference, which she maintained in silence for the remainder of the lesson.

Neville knocked firmly on the door to Professor McGonagall's office. It opened silently, and he entered to see his Head of House sitting behind her desk. She gestured with her wand, and the door closed quietly behind him. She continued gesturing for another few seconds, and Neville recognised the characteristic angularity of Colloportus partway through. His eyes widened slightly.

The professor inclined her head slightly, and pointed to a very upright wooden chair in front of her desk.

"Mr Longbottom."

"Professor McGonagall."

The barest hint of a smile touched her lips.

"Defiant to the last, I see."

Neville blushed, but didn't look away.

"Sorry, Professor."

McGonagall relaxed her posture slightly.

"And yet you make no protest of your punishment."

He nodded.

"I broke the rules, Professor. It wouldn't be right for me to complain."

She nodded.

"And were you not of that mind, Mr Longbottom, we would be having a quite different discussion right now. You understand that - the discipline of Hogwarts must be enforced."

"I understand, Professor."

Professor McGonagall paused.

"I note that Hogwarts gossip has nothing to say about your encounter with Mr Malfoy."

Neville smiled broadly.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes. I only did it because I had to, and now that we're back at school no one else should have to do that. Besides, I don't want to be known for hitting someone. I don't want people to like me for hitting someone."

Professor McGonagall smiled – actually smiled!

"You remind me a great deal of your father, lately."

Naked hope showed on Neville's face.

"Really?"

"Really. I taught him, of course. He was a fine young man, and entirely uncompromising in his convictions about right and wrong.

"I remember when he was a Prefect, there were some boys in the year below him – friends of his, or at least friendly with him. They liked to bully another boy in their year, and Frank simply would not allow it. And understand this, Mr Longbottom – your father fairly loathed that boy. He made no secret of it. But right was right, wrong was wrong, and he never would abide bullying."

Neville smiled softly, wonderingly.

"Thank you, Professor. Thank you."

She inclined her head, then resumed her stern countenance as she conjured a small desk with parchment and ink in front of Neville.

"And now, Mr Longbottom, you will write for me a brief essay explaining why violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts."

Neville nodded peaceably and turned to the desk.

"Yes, Professor."

In the Gryffindor common room that evening, a highly excited Hermione was holding forth to a visibly bored Harry and Ron.

"... so you see, Arithmancy gives the structure of everything! Spells work by Arithmancy, Potions work by Arithmancy – all of it!"

"Well, almost."

Hermione's head whipped around, and she stared in shock at the ethereal blonde first-year who had spoken.

"What do you mean?"

"You've rather put things the wrong way around, Hermione Granger. Magic works the way it works, no matter what we think. Arithmancy is just what some witches and wizards use, to try to understand magic. To try to control it. But magic doesn't need Arithmancy."

To her credit, Hermione paused to think about this. Then, after a long moment,

"But that doesn't make sense. I mean, Arithmancy is the structure of magic. There is no magic without that structure."

Luna - of course this tiny first-year had to be Luna Lovegood – smiled serenely.

"You don't need to know that, you know. I'm sure you can levitate a feather, but do you know how it works? Why swish-and-flick?"

Hermione let out an explosive breath.

"Of course, I'm just starting my second year. Of course I don't know everything yet! But Jarleth Hobart must have known the Arithmancy when he invented it."

Luna laughed, a shockingly rich sound in her ethereal voice.

"Jarleth Hobart thought he could fly!"

Hermione's eyes suddenly went very wide.

"Oh! You're right, he did! So he mustn't have known the Arithmancy, or he wouldn't have made that mistake! Er... Let me think about this."

Luna smiled.

"Of course."

Upstairs, Luna arrived at the first-year girls' dorm to see a familiar head of red hair inside. She hesitated.

"Ginny?"

Ginny Weasley turned around. She probably hadn't actually been crying, but her face was puffy and blotchy nonetheless.

"Luna? Merlin, it's been ages! Um, I mean, apart from classes today. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you, I didn't know what to say."

Luna smiled serenely, or at least seemed to.

"I suppose I did rather withdraw from the world, after Mum died. I think I'd quite like to not be on my own any more, if you wouldn't mind."

Ginny smiled nervously.

"I think I'd like that. My whole life I've been smothered, but today I felt so alone. It was awful."

Luna finally walked into the dorm, nodding decisively.

"Friends, then. We will be friends."