The Game - Round Three - Pure Nerve and Outstanding Courage, Mission and Submissions Options

[Department_of_My...]

Welcome to round three of The Game!
Pure Nerve and Outstanding Courage!



Stoats: The first one of you to solve the riddle below wins a $20 gift card from Whimsic Alley!

Ferrets: Solve the riddle below to receive your writing mission for this round.




Think you know the answer?
Then send a PM to Department_of_Mysteries
If you answer wrong, you may try again.
Good Luck!
(And keep out of that corridor on the fourth floor!)

[cassirin]

All the Gryffindor

Neville Longbottom clenched the arm of his chair tightly and stared across the Gryffindor Common Room. It had been emptying steadily for the past hour or so, but he sat still as a Muggle portrait he’d once seen at his Great Aunt Enid’s. The only movement was one hand clenching and unclenching around a very uncomfortable Trevor the toad.

There were only five Gryffindors left in the Common Room, and Neville watched Ron as he stared openly at Lee Jordan. The boy showed no concern as he pushed beetles into his tarantula’s box and jotted notes on a bit of parchment. At last, Lee yawned hugely before heading up the stairs, and Neville’s heart rate picked up considerably.

Now there were four of them, and Neville’s skin prickled in anticipation. Maybe they’d all go up to bed as they’d done every night this week. He’d been waiting in this very chair night after night, and he’d been fortunate thus far. No confrontations necessary, no loss of points, no more Gryffindor embarrassments. Maybe he’d get lucky once again.

He sighed in relief as Harry stood and darted up the stairs. They were going to bed. He could rest easy once again. The term was nearly over. He wouldn’t stand watch on them next year, that much was for sure. Odd… Ron and Hermione hadn’t gone up with Harry. Neville felt a sinking sensation, and he pulled Trevor against his chest. Go up, go up, go up go up go up, he chanted in his head.

Much to Neville’s dismay, Harry reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, an oddly hued cloak clutched in his hands. He held a very brief exchange with his two friends, and they all took a few steps for the door. Trevor gave a squeaky croak of protest, and it brought Neville back to himself. He loosened his grip on the toad and stumbled to his feet.

Neville steeled all of his nerves and stepped forward. “Where are you going?” Remarkably, his voice was steady and didn’t shake THAT much. Harry shoved the odd cloak behind his back as if Neville were an idiot as well as a coward. The site of it billowing in silvery folds against Harry’s ankles angered Neville more than he could say. “You’re going out again!” he demanded, and it wasn't a question.

It took all the courage Neville had, all the Gryffindor he’d inherited from his very brave mother and father, to raise his wand against these three people Neville had hoped were his friends. After all, he was taking the unadventurous and perhaps overly cautious side on this debate, and to add insult to injury, he had his wand out on the Boy-Who-Lived. He felt a thrill of joy. He was brave! He really was, and maybe that meant he was wrong in thinking he’d been put into the wrong house.

He’d been prepared to argue with them. Ron seemed like he might be a hand-to-hand combat sort, and he knew he couldn’t out logic Hermione. Even still, Neville was prepared to go to any lengths to keep them from leaving the common room. What he hadn’t been prepared for was Hermione’s superior knowledge of spells. They all stepped easily over his stiffened body and disappeared beneath the silver cloak, sneaking out into the torch-lit halls to be up to whatever mischief it was they had planned.