RED was never his color, at least in neville’s own opinion, and as he’s studying his red ‘n yellow scarf on the walk to hogsmeade ( ALONE ), he thinks back to his sorting. he’d told the sorting hat not to place him in gryffindor he obviously wasn’t fit, and he’d only seemed to prove as much. sprout liked him much more than mcgonagall ever let on and his hufflepuff housemates wouldn’t overshadow or look down on him, he thought. the scarf dropped to his side and neville realized only then that someone was walking beside him. he lowered his earmuffs and looked at his friend, cluelessly ( the only expression that did not look AWKWARD on neville’s round face ), not having heard what he said. ‘ sorry, harry, wha’ was that? ’