Neville was immensely grateful for the guards’ swift response, a group of them moving to stand between him and the entrance, at least until they could get the gate shut once more. Even surrounded by security, one of them tightly holding onto his arm, Neville wouldn’t feel truly safe until they managed it, until the wards were back in full force. He’d been a fool, he realised, too trusting of the safe bubble Alexandria had provided. Too confident in his own abilities. He’d known of the risks but had downplayed them, had completed so many incident-free solo trips to the forest and back, he’d built a false sense of security. But the mutts would find them, the evil would always find them. He’d been reckless and the risk hadn’t been worth it. Guilt found him next, once the fear began to subside. What would this do to Mason, to his trust in Neville, in their relationship? What would this do to his friends, the town’s safety? Had he drawn the mutts closer? Had he revealed their location in all his panic? After all they’d been through, he could be the one to unravel them?
Neville began to sway where he stood, adrenaline wearing off, shock slowly taking its place. For a moment, he heard nothing but his own heartbeat. “Oh gods,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “What have I done?” The hand that held him steady suddenly disappeared, and Neville would have slid to the ground entirely had it not been for the arm that immediately replaced it. This time, its owner was familiar, the voice comforting. It’s alright. I’m here now.
Neville’s chin wavered immediately, Mason’s presence providing him the security he’d been craving, the kind that confirmed the threat really was gone, and he didn’t have to fight or flee any longer. He wasn’t alone. The full force of the shock reached him, and Neville sniffled, a shaking hand reaching to grip Mason’s arm in return. He felt nauseous. “M’ sorry. I’m so sorry —” He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, feeling pathetic about his own reaction. He was stronger than this now. He’d been through far worse. But he’d never felt solely responsible for the danger of his friends before, either. At the first question, all he could do was nod, afraid to even conjure the image of it again. It had to be a mutt, nothing else could describe its size, its movement. Not from what Neville had seen, anyway.
Hearing the frustration and disappointment in Mason’s voice, the Moroi hung his head in shame, sniffing, knowing the intended goal hadn’t been worth all this. “It’s my fault, nobody else knew. There’s a way.. to get over the wall. I was - I was just gathering herbs. It - I was so bloody stupid.” He hadn’t even brought all the satchels of dittany back, dropping them in the panic. He’d been lucky he hadn’t lost his own wand. Neville’s eyes widened hearing the change in his guardian’s tone, and he shook his head, disagreeing, his own voice stronger this time, more insistent. “You’re not to be sorry, this was my doing. I didn’t think - I thought I could handle it, on my own, just like I have been. But I was wrong to believe that. And you —” He sighed, knowing he’d ruined what was likely a great day. “You were with Rose. I wouldn’t dream of pullin’ you away from that, not for somethin’ so unimportant.”
Neville broke their gaze to watch the closing gates, the forest disappearing from view, a cold chill rolling up his spine at the memory. “I’m really sorry, for doin’ this to you. I’ll ask you next time, I will, and I’ll make sure you’re not busy.” He swallowed. “I.. I don’t think I could go back out there by myself anyway, even if I had to.”
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