He re-read it several times at the top of each page until, three sets of side later, it came to an abrupt stop with a thick blot. It looked like Creevey had driven the quill into the page when she'd realised what was happening and asked him to stop. Harry's respect for the camera wielding menace rose a few notches.
It's perfect, he decided. I couldn't have chosen better words if I'd tried.
He replaced the papers as he'd found them, and swiftly checked on the quill. His enchantments were as he'd left them, but the silver tip had been snapped by the force with which Creevey had driven it into his page. She'd have to make another to if she wanted to continue her malicious punishments, and Harry would be more than happy to re-enchant that one for her too. 'Are you done?' Neville demanded.
'I haven't done anything,' Harry responded. 'I just wanted to see what the words she chose to give to Creevey were. I suspect they've left an impression.'
Neville shot him a slightly guilty grin. He hated Umbridge, and a handful of others too, Harry imagined, but he wasn't capable of the same level of cruelty that Harry was.
'Show me your shield then,' Harry told him, waving his hand at Neville and taking a seat on the nearest desk.
'Protego,' Neville commanded clearly, extracting and waving his wand. The shield sprung into being around him exactly as it had on the last two occasions Harry had seen it. 'I don't know what's wrong with it,' Neville despaired, 'my pronunciation, my wand motion and my intent are all clear.' Harry was inclined to agree with him, he had heard and seen nothing wrong, so the problem was either with Neville's focus, or with his magic.
That's his father's wand, Harry remembered.
'I have an idea or two,' he suggested softly, 'try not to be offended.'
'I'm not going to be able to do it, am I?' Neville asked miserably.
'If I'm right about what's wrong then it can easily be fixed,' Harry reassured him. Neville perked up slightly at that. 'It looks like your magic isn't quite doing what you wanted. That wand,' he gestured at Neville's hand, 'it was your father's, yes?'
'Yes,' Neville nodded. 'It's possible that your problem is due to using a wand that isn't quite right for you,' Harry explained gently. 'You are unlikely to be perfectly suited to your father's wand and you might be better off getting one of your own.'
Neville's eyes caught fire, and his knuckled tightened possessively on the wand until they whitened. 'There's nothing wrong with the wand,' he snapped.
'Here,' Harry held out his own,' try using mine.'
'Protego,' Neville repeated, swapping hands and using Harry's ebony wand.
A very faint shimmer of silver light surrounded him, then Neville hissed with pain, dropping Harry's wand on the desk next to him and the shield dissipated. 'It burnt me,' he murmured, shocked, and turned his hand to show Harry the thin red mark along the length of his palm and the slightly swollen finger tips.
'Sorry,' Harry apologised, retrieving his wand. 'I think it's quite strongly bonded to me.'
'I take your point about not using a wand that isn't suited to you,' Neville laughed, rubbing the burn mark. 'I'll talk to Gran about it, if I find a wand better suited to me at Ollivander's then maybe that will fix things.'
'It should help you with everything,' Harry told him. 'A wand is the conduit through which you use your magic, the better matched to you it is then the easier you will find performing magic.'
'That makes sense,' Neville agreed, 'but still…' He trailed off looking down at his father's wand. 'Just because you're not a perfect match for his wand,' Harry began carefully, 'does not mean he wouldn't be proud of you. You're like your father and your mother, Nev, you'll need something in between them both.'
Neville swallowed hard, and carefully replaced his father's wand into the pocket of his robes.
'What were your other suggestions?' He asked.
'There was only one,' Harry told him. 'It's possible you aren't quite focused enough, I know a branch of magic I can teach you that can help with that. It's not easy to learn, though, and you'd have to keep it a secret that I taught you.'
'It's not something dark is it?' Neville asked, his voice wavering.
'No,' Harry laughed. 'It's called Occlumency, it's about organising your thoughts and clearing your mind of emotions and thoughts. It's meant to protect your mind, but the principles are very helpful for focusing your intent and that's why most wizards learn it.' He studied Neville carefully. 'I can teach it to you, it'd not dark, just a bit obscure. Voldemort is supposed to be very good at its opposite, which is why I'm learning it.'
'I want to learn it,' Neville decided after a moment of thought. 'If it helps me perform magic better and stops wizards attacking my mind then I should learn it.'
Perfect, Harry exalted mentally.
'It won't be easy to learn,' Harry let the slight amount of guilt he felt for misleading Neville show on his face, 'it can be painful, and you need to trust me completely.'
'I trust you,' Neville declared immediately. 'I'll learn it however you think is best.' Thank you for your loyalty, Nev, Harry thought sadly, but perhaps you shouldn't trust me so readily.
'When do we start?' He seemed quite eager and Harry's guilt surged a little higher.
We both profit from this, Harry reminded himself, and his remorse ebbed away again.
'You have to do the first bit yourself,' Harry told him, 'practise emptying your thoughts, forcing your mind to go blank, even when you're angry, or upset.'
'I'll finally have something useful to do in Umbridge's lessons,' Neville quipped.
Harry laughed, forgetting the last of his guilt completely. 'Yes, I suppose you will.' 'Let's leave before Umbridge gets back,' Neville suggested. 'I need to plan what I'll be helping everyone with once the meetings get going.'
'I'm sure shrugged.
you'll
think
of
something,'
Harry
'You're my assistant,' Neville reminded him, as they left the classroom and head back towards the main staircase.
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