Draco Malfoy's Famous Last Words

EVELYN'S P.O.V.

"Neville!" I groan.

That is the third curse he's accidentally shot at Ginny Weasley. Needless to say, DA training is become a safety hazard.

"I'm trying! But this spell is really hard!" Neville shouts, attempting to defend himself.

Seamus Finnigan performs the curse next to Neville, sending a test dummy flying against the back wall.

"It's not that hard, mate," he teases.

"Oh cut it out, you immature Gryffindors," I complain.

It's not like hanging out with the DA is torture. Actually, it's a lot of fun. It's nice to get to go and hang out with the good guys every now and then. Life for them seems so much easier. Seriously, other than Harry, Ron, and Hermione being off missing, they have no problems. I wish the Dark Side could be like that. But no, we're in to deadly missions and suicide. Great right?

I sigh again as Neville's fourth curse nearly hits Dean Thomas.

"Okay guys, I think that's enough for tonight," I state.

They all nod and move toward the door, avoiding Neville.

"Evelyn?" he asks, as I am gathering my things to leave.

"Yes, Neville?"

"Please can't you help me? I know I'm horrible at this, but I really want to do good. I want to do battle in the war, I want to help our cause. I have something to prove."

Reluctantly, I walk back over to where he is standing, staring at me with sad eyes.

"You're really not that bad," I say, "You just need to work on your flicking technique. The rest is pretty good."

I demonstrate how he should try to flick his wand. He immitates me a few times, then gives the curse another shot. It is less violent than before, but still off target.

"Here," I instruct, putting my hand over his, "Like this."

I make the motion with him as he says the spell. The curse hits the test dummy square in the chest. Bullseye.

"There you go! Now you're getting it!"

"Thanks, Evie," Neville replies, "Hey, I was meaning to ask you something."

"What's that?"

"Well, you know, it's almost the end of November, and the Yule Ball is coming up in two weeks. And I, well, I was wondering if maybe, well..." His voice drifts off, and he averts his eyes to the floor.

"Are you asking me to the Yule ball, Neville?" I ask.

"Well, yeah," he squeaks. It's sort of endearing.

I do need a date, assuming that I can go at all. Besides, I highly doubt Draco will be able to take me, being a convicted murderer and all. Surely Draco wouldn't mind if I went with Neville, he knows that I love him, after all. It's not like Neville's a threat.

"I would love to go with you, Neville," I answer, for which I receive a beaming smile.

"As friends though right?" I confirm.

His face falls a little, but he keeps his voice upbeat, "Sure, of course."

"Look, Neville, you're a great guy. I'm just not over Draco yet, since he, well left me," I lie.

Neville nods, "I understand. I can deal with being friends until you get over Draco."

I thank him and leave the Room of Requirement, not bothering to correct him further. He thinks I'll actually get over Draco and be with him eventually. I glance down at the flashy diamond on my finger. Doesn't that say enough?

I guess not. Oh well, I have bigger issues. I have to tell Draco about my date to the dance tomorrow. He'll be mad at first, I know he will. Maybe he'll be easy on me because of the circumstances.

Oh Merlin, the funeral. Great. That's the last thing I want to do tomorrow. Bury my mom and pay respects to my dad. Sure, I have Delilah still. But Rebecca was my mum, she raised me, taught me most of what I know.

Tomorrow is definitely going to be a hard day.