The final day. One day until I saw Fred. One day until I left to Grimmauld Place.

Sirius hadn't written to me that week, yet as I entered the Great Hall, his owl sat on the table. But not in front of my place, instead, she was sat in front of Harry, an expecting look in her eye as he scanned the parchment with the Black family wax seal.

"She'll want bacon." I said casually, slumping down on the bench next to him, before passing Hestia some small pieces of the meat from my plate.

"Bacon? Why on earth would an owl eat bacon?" Harry turned to look at me with confusion.

"She's a pampered owl, Harry." I rolled my eyes, before attaching my own letter to Hestia's foot. If he wouldn't write to me, I would.

It hurt, sometimes. To see Harry get the same, if not more of my own father's attention. It's not Harry's fault, he has no parents. But neither did I for nearly thirteen years, and yet Sirius prioritised Harry over his own daughter. It was jealousy, pure and cruel and harsh. And the small voice in my mind urging me for revenge was getting louder and louder, until Hermione's aggressive slam of a book on the table woke me out of my trance.

Brought me back to the surface, before the Black Family madness consumed me.

"Can you believe it? Umbridge is saying that more severe punishment will take place on upper school students! More severe punishment! How can there be anything more severe than a blood quill?" She screeched.

"She could use the Unforgivables on us." I murmured.

"Don't go giving her any ideas." Harry chuckled, and I forced a small smile.

Harry and Hermione were lovely, but they were no replacement for Fred. I'd always struggled to become truly close to people in my own year, preferring to make mischief with the older years. People like Fred, George, Lee, Cedric and Katie just seemed more understanding. They were easier to get along with.

Now, my other friends were at Quidditch practice, and since Harry was banned, and the Gryffindor team were being monitored by Umbridge like a hawk, no one was allowed to visit their practices.

I desperately wanted to watch Ginny scream at the seventh year boys.

"Hey Y/N!" A soft voice rang out behind me, and I turned to see Neville approaching me slowly, wincing as he places his right hand out to lower himself onto the bench.

"Neville? Do you need me to heal it?" I whispered, and he sighed, a faint pink spreading across his cheeks. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Those quills are nasty business, and you wouldn't believe how many people have come to me for the salve and charms." I gave him a reassuring smile, one he returned, before standing up once more.

"Me and Neville and going to the...Library. We'll see you later." I gave the group a quick smile, before following Neville out, towards the library. Keeping a safe distance of course - Umbridge would do anything to catch us out ok the final day before a week long holiday.

As we arrived at the Library, it was practically empty. Most students had gone outside to play in the snow before Umbridge had an opportunity to ruin their fun, while others were making the most of the Christmas food available.

I ushered Neville towards a table near an alcove, towards the back of the library, before opening my small bag.

"Merlin's beard, Y/N! How big is that?" Neville gawked at the sight of my arm buried in the bag, far deeper than the pouch appeared to be.

"An extension charm, Hermione taught it to me. I can teach you the charm later if you'd like?" I offered, before finally grasping on a small, cold tin.

"That would be great, even if I don't...you know... do it." Neville gave out a sigh of frustration.

"You'll get it eventually Neville. All great wizards had to practice." I said, opening the tin of slave as I did so, before unwrapping the bandage that lay around Neville'a bloody hand. "This may hurt slightly, so I'm sorry in advance."

As soon as I applied it to his skin, Neville froze, before slowly beginning to ease at the sight of the wound rapidly healing. "How..how did you do that?" He asked in awe, holding out his newly-healed hand.

"A herbology book you gave me last Christmas gave me insight into healing plants around here. So technically, you're the reason why all these students are healed. Don't thank me, thank yourself." I beamed at the boy who now held himself with a smaller amount of pride and confidence.

"Thank you so much Y/N, you're a life saver."

"No problem, Neville." I said to him as we walked away from the table, back towards the Greenhouses.

I hoped he'd enjoy the basket of new herbology books and ingredients I'd left in his room for Christmas

A/N:

I LOVE NEVILLE

that's it. that's the note.