Who: Neville and Open if anyone wants to join him (though he's okay with being alone) What: Contemplation When: Wednesday afternoon (slightly forward-dated) Where: Near the Shrieking Shack
Neville had walked silently along with a group of Hufflepuffs down the path to Hogsmeade but left them once they arrived. He really didn't want to be with anyone but at the same time didn't want to disappoint his house and loose a bunch of points. He had no idea were they were in the standings and it didn't mean much to him, but he was sure others were still worrying about it.
He made his way down the path to the Shrieking Shack. Harry had told him the truth about the Shack being 'haunted' and he wanted to see it. He couldn't count how many times he'd wished the older werewolf was still around, even though he realized he probably wouldn't have been in the castle anyway. Professor Lupin was the only other werewolf he knew of who tried to live a normal life and be a good person, despite the condition, and as much as he appreciated Bill's guidance, there were things he wished he could know but had no one to ask. He was just wanted to find someone or something he could relate to. Lately it felt like no matter how many people were around him he was still alone.
He made his way up to the dilapidated house and tried to find a way in. He walked around the house, testing doors and windows and boards that looked loose but he couldn't find anything and his arm started throbbing fairly early on. He finally collapsed in the cold overgrown grass and just lay back, swallowing hard and doing his best to stay calm.
He just wanted to know. There was this whole aspect about him now that he knew nothing about. This whole part of him that scared him and he had no control over. He'd tried to look it up in the library but the books he found just talked about how to deal with a werewolf or kill a werewolf or how to identify a werewolf. He realized that books on what it was like to be a werewolf probably didn't have the biggest audience and were likely hard to get published, but still wished he at least had an idea.
As he lay in the cold he knew he would have, and did, feel it more a month ago but both Bill hand the healers had told him his body temperature was higher now and he'd likely always be a little warmer than he used to be. His thoughts wandered as the sun started to move through the sky. He still hadn't heard from his Gran. He had no idea the condition of his parents. They hadn't been doing well when he left and he just wished he could see them again. Not receiving any letters from his Grandmother though was rather unnerving. She used to write him weekly, religiously. Every Saturday morning he knew he had to be at breakfast because her letter would be there. He kept hoping that she was just stuck in a Quarantine of her own and that it wasn't something much worse.
He felt the cold tears roll down his cheeks but paid no attention to them. He just closed his eyes and lay there trying to wrap his mind around what his life had become.