A/N: Written for the Hogwarts Houses Challenges Forum.
Challenge: Singing - write about being a member of the toad choir.
Cabin: Longbottom
Filius Flitwick stood awkwardly in the hallway, between a tall seventh year Slytherin boy and a medium height Hufflepuff girl. He was surprised to see a Slytherin in the mix at all, and it bothered him that he had to be next to the only one who had shown up.
When his parents had learned that the school was starting a toad choir, they had told the lad that he was joining. No questions asked.
He had argued that he would be the laughing stalk of whatever house (though he had been sure it would be Ravenclaw) he was sorted into. That his height was already a problem.
His father had started to see his point, but his mother had not backed down. In the end, they had agreed. Filius would audition would for the choir.
The lad had been hoping to get a cat or an owl as a pet, but he was only allowed one, and he needed a toad for the choir. So that year, in Diagon Alley, his parents had taken him to choose from the quite limited selection of the different jumping creatures.
He had been too angry with them to care, and had simply grabbed the first one he had seen. When asked what he wanted to name it, the rebellious eleven year old had come up with the marvelous name of 'Frog'.
Frog the Toad.
Ravenclaw, for sure.
Finally, the boy's name was called. With only nine students trying out, it was clear that all would make it, but the Hufflepuff head, who ran the choir, had insisted on completing the tryouts anyway.
Filius and Frog passed with flying colors.
It wasn't until third year that Filius, now called Flitwick by most of his peers, actually began to enjoy the choir. Music had become almost a therapy to him, distracting him from the cruel remarks about his height and goblin heritage that had become commonplace from the moment the Sorting Hart had been placed on his head.
Frog had become a constant companion, and Flitwick was no longer worried about not have an owl or a cat. The toad was quite loyal, and sometimes the lad thought he could actually understand him.
Fifth year, the half-goblin gained the title of Hogwart's dueling champion. He had been working hard over the summer (not legally, of course) to perfect his skills, and they had paid off wonderfully.
This, as well as his new position as Ravenclaw prefect, meant that beyond a few Slytherin taunts here and there, no one teased him about his height - or race - again.
The choir had almost become his life, however. He had joined as a student leader this time around and found it immensely rewarding.
The Ravenclaw had developed a soft spot for those younger students who didn't fit in, using his prefect's title to become almost a protector for them.
Seventh year had been beyond difficult, and not because of the NEWTs. The Ravenclaw had never been particularly worried about them in the first place, having never struggled with school.
First off, Frog had died.
It had been Christmas Eve when his beloved pet had caught some sickness or other – what it was Flitwick still didn't know. He'd died Christmas morning.
It had been the worst gift the young Ravenclaw had ever received.
Secondly, he had needed to resign from the choir.
Well, he hadn't needed to. But after spending seven years with his beloved Toad, Flitwick hadn't been ready to just up and get another one. His parents hadn't argued the matter, and it wouldn't have mattered if they had. Being seventeen, he could make his own decisions.
Thirdly, he needed to decide what he was going to do with his life.
At one point, he had hoped to come back to Hogwarts as a professor, perhaps even teach the choir. But after Frog's death, he was no longer sure that this was what he wanted. Not that he had any clue exactly what it was that he wanted.
Either way, it was one of the most difficult years of his life.
Four years after Hogwarts, Flitwick had gotten his degree to work as a Healer at Saint Mungo's. He enjoyed the job, though he missed Hogwarts. Something about the place had become like a home to him.
His mother had once told him: "home is that place where, when you leave, you just miss it." There was only one place that Flitwick had ever felt that.
After six years of working as a Healer, the short Ravenclaw was done.
Finally.
A position had come up at Hogwarts. Charms Professor. It hadn't been the half-goblin's favorite subject in school, but it wasn't Care of Magical Creatures either. He had accepted.
Two years later, he was head of Ravenclaw house. One of the youngest Heads of House in the history of Hogwarts. His parents and family had never been prouder.
A year later they were dead.
They never got to see him become the leader of the Toad Choir, being murdered by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named in the early years of the wizarding war.
Voldemort, to be more correct.
The choir was the one thing that kept Flitwick going for those many years, dealing with the loss of all those that he had ever held dear. When the dark lord was 'destroyed' he had thought that perhaps his life would go back to normal.
It didn't.
Along came Harry Potter, eleven years later,
And for the next seven years, the Charms Master was always on edge.
But one thing remained constant.
And Flitwick found himself a new friend. Or perhaps, a new protégé would be the correct term.
Neville Longbottom.
The boy and his toad proved to have quite an interest in the choir, though the former was far too shy to actually get on stage. Trevor, however, seemed to love the opportunity. Either way, Flitwick found in Neville and his toad a reflection of himself not all that many years prior.
And the boy needed a friend and mentor.
When the time came for Neville to prove himself, Flitwick was not disappointed.
Not that he had expected to be.
The professor missed the lad and his friends when they left Hogwarts after that year, after the defeat of Voldemort.
Neville told people that he had lost Trevor in the lake outside of Hogwarts, and while that was partially true, it wasn't fully the case.
Flitwick had always had a way with toads, and this one was no exception. While wandering the lake one morning, the professor found the toad sitting on the water's edge, looking up at him. The creature gave a small croak, allowing the old half-goblin to pick him up, stroke his head.
He was only the second toad the choir teacher had ever owned.
And he was also the last. The two passed away peacefully on the seventh anniversary of Voldemort's demise, and were buried together.
Neville was the only one who recognized the toad, but he wasn't nearly the only one who shed a tear at the funeral. The man organized a reunion, and all living members of the Hogwart's toad choirs showed up.
They sang together one last time.