DISCLAIMER: Based on situations and characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling.

Foreword from the author: This great trilogy has been a long time in the making. It began as a little joke on the boards of Fiction Alley. So many shippers claim "Oh, insert fic name here converted me to insert random pairing here". So I got the idea of writing the fic that will convert everyone to N/G, because too often it's just a side ship for something else.

The thing to note, guys, is that this is really just a joke that got a little bit out of control. Don't take it too seriously, or you might start to get a bit annoyed.

I drew (ahem) "inspiration" for this fic from many sources, though I can't get past without mentioning Cassandra Cla(i)re, who wrote a few fics a couple of years back that you might have heard of. But this fic isn't just about her, it has a few of my own little takes on some of the favourite clichés of the fandom. A lot of credit to several other masters of their fields who inspired me, particularly Stephenie Meyer (all will become clear later) and to Hideo Kojima, who filled Metal Gear Solid with gormless soldiers that were really the inspiration behind the Death Eaters.

And also, I suppose I better mention J.K. Rowling, who may have had a little something to contribute to this story.

Edit: Should also mention, this is an AU after GoF, so it will contain spoilers up until that point but there are none after that, and if there are well, they'll probably be just a snide little reference you'll barely notice. This takes place in Sixth Year.

Enough prattle from me...

The first part of The Neville Trilogy

NEVILLE NUMQUAM

chapter one

the draft of living death

It was utterly freezing in the Potions dungeon. Whoever had decided to hold classes underground in a castle in the north of Scotland obviously wasn't a big fan of heat.

Professor Snape trudged on with the lesson though. He carefully drew a flask of a clear liquid from the cauldron sitting upon his desk.

"Can any of you tell me what this potion is?" Snape asked with a sneer.

All the boys' heads snapped round to look at Granger, whose hand had shot into the air. As Snape continued to ignore her, she started to bounce up and down, causing two certain parts of her anatomy to bounce up and down as well. Nearly all the boys groaned.

Only Ron Weasley was oblivious. He was more interested in the right index finger that was currently mining his nose in search of the precious mineral often found there.

"It's the Draught of Living Death, sir!" Granger squeaked out, unable to contain herself any longer. Snape continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"Really? No one?" he asked. He looked expectantly at Draco Malfoy, who was the best pupil in his class that he would acknowledge, but the young man was more interested in Hermione Granger bouncing up and down.

"Potter!" Snape snapped. "What potion did I tell you about in the first lesson we ever had?"

Harry Potter snapped alert, sensing an opportunity to score sympathy points perhaps.

"How should I know?" he moaned. He took a deep breath. "I'M ALWAYS THE VICTIM WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MISTREAT ME YOU ARE SUCH A HORRIBLE MAN IT IS NOT MY FAULT THAT MY DAD WAS BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY AND SAVED YOUR LIFE YOU UNGRATEFUL INBRED HOOK NOSED BASTARD!"

"Detention," Snape said, feeling almost as though even bullying Potter wouldn't make him feel any better than having to teach these dunderheads.

At long last one hand wobbled up. The hand was connected to the only one Snape enjoyed picking on even more than Potter.

Neville Longbottom.

"It's the Draft of Living Death, sir," he said proudly.

Snape gave him a glare he normally reserved only for people who had had the nerve to save his life.

"Correct," he said. "Now, given that took you twenty minutes to answer I'll refrain from asking you all what it does and just tell you."

"Sir!" Granger squealed, jumping up and down again, causing Malfoy to groan loudly. He looked down at the front of his robes in horror, but apparently no one had noticed his problem. Granger continued. "The Draught of Living Death is a potent sleeping potion-!"

"Miss Granger!" Snape snapped. "Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting me!"

Granger started leaking from her eyes. Snape twisted his head slightly to the side, unable to comprehend such a pathetic show of weakness. He looked as Potter drew in a breath and prepared himself for Potter to explode in a fit of rage and receive yet another detention.

"Sir, that's not fair!"

Snape blinked.

That hadn't been Potter's voice.

He spun around to face the offender.

Neville Longbottom?

How was this possible?

Snape was so stunned he could muster no further reaction to Longbottom's interruption. He was simply too shocked to comprehend the boy's uncharacteristic show of courage. He merely carried on with the lesson, telling them all about the properties of the potion.

"And now," he said with a rare smile, "I will administer the potion to each of you in turn. After all, it seems entirely plausible that I administer highly restricted potions to my sixth year classes on a regular basis. You will lie on the desk, take the potion and fall asleep. I will then give each of you the antidote."

He looked around the room, wondering which buffoon he would subject to this first.

"Mister Malfoy," he said.

Malfoy covered his face as he walked up towards the desk. Now everyone could see what a mess he'd made of the front of his robes. Luckily for Malfoy the Gryffindors appeared too sexually naive to know what it was.

Malfoy took his potion without further comment. Snape proceeded to work his way through the Slytherins. Each of them managed to handle in a mature fashion, and when awoke they looked a bit groggy for a few moments but eventually they made their way back to their seats.

"Harry Potter," Snape announced.

Deep breath.

"OH WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME YOU PICK ON THIS IS NOT FAIR WHY AM I ALWAYS THE VICTIM I HAVE NO PARENTS MY UNCLE BEAT ME WHY DOES NOBODY LOVE ME???"

"Just get up here Potter," Snape said. Potter stormed up and jumped on the desk with an almighty crash. Surprising, seeing as Potter was the tiniest sixth year Snape had ever taught. He was scrawny too, just like his father had been, and shorter than even Granger by a head. His hair was an unkempt mess that managed to stick up in almost every possible direction and yet still have enough to curl down his neck to his shoulders. By far his most striking feature remained the sparkling emerald eyes, which were touched by his unruly raven hair but not obscured as his scar was.

Potter took the potion, and, rather than lie down like a sensible person, he stood up.

"LOOK THE POTION HAS NO EFFECT ON THE MIGHTY HARRY POT-!"

CRASH!

Potter suddenly fell asleep on his feet, and went crashing forward where he banged his head off a desk which opened up a deep head wound that made a mess of Snape's lovely stone flooring.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, for getting blood all over my floor," Snape said lazily. Sure, Potter was unconscious and couldn't actually hear him, but it still made Snape feel a little better.

"Oh no!" Granger shrieked. "He's dying!" She rushed forward and grabbed Harry. "I must bring his head to my ample bosom, and the power of my unrequited love will revive him!" Snape raised an eyebrow as all Granger managed to do was get her robes covered in blood.

Weasley seemed unaware of this. He was more interested in the finger that had left his nose and was now hovering inches from his face with a bit of that precious nose gold Weasley was fond of. He probably had never seen real gold, so that was the next best thing.

Snape moved his attention away from Weasley to trying to administer the antidote to Potter. True, he had no love for Potter. But if the boy died on his floor Dumbledore would probably be upset, teachers might complain and Voldemort might take over the world, which would all probably wind up with him taking a significant wage cut.

Snape decided, once he had sent Potter to the Hospital Wing, that perhaps it would be in his best interest to dismiss the class earlier. He thought mournfully that he wouldn't be able to subject more Gryffindors to the Draught of Living Death.

As the dunderheads he was forced to teach filed out, Snape began to ponder the most recent changes in young Longbottom. He seemed to be growing in confidence, and even Snape had to admit the young boy wasn't the most repulsive human being on the planet.

###

Indeed, Neville had grown to become quite an attractive young man, and the girls of Hogwarts certainly seemed to notice. Well, he didn't really have much competition, but still. His was the kind of beauty you could easily spend several paragraphs ranting about. Comparisons to a young Brad Pitt might feature. It would be ludicrous of course. Neville was much better looking than Brad Pitt ever was...

Even Hermione had noticed it, even though she currently sat at the bedside of the boy whom she had loved from the moment she'd laid eyes on him. She glanced across to where Harry was, typically, out for the count. In order to silence his hysterics when he had first arrived, Madame Pomfrey had stunned him. She'd mumbled and grumbled about how Snape would surely have been better off leaving him asleep to be treated, but she got on with the job.

Although the wound was fully healed and his blood restored, Madame Pomfrey had judged it best to leave him there for a while.

So Hermione was alone with him. Well, she well as may have been alone with him. Ron was there, but he was busy dealing with an itch in the general area of his reproductive organs and thus taking no notice of them.

Hermione sighed. Oh, how she'd loved them. Both of them. She and Ron had briefly dated last year, but they'd quickly decided that they'd be better just as friends. Ron hadn't really minded. He'd been distracted by the shiny hairclip she'd worn that day. Often Hermione wondered if Ron had ever actually noticed them breaking up.

Instead Hermione had focused her attention on Harry. It had been recently that she had decided to tell him she loved him. Of course, Hermione had never done anything like that before. It hadn't gone well.

Of course, Harry had, somehow, managed to make it look like he was the victim in all this. As far as Hermione could see, the only thing she'd ever done wrong was try to make him a better person. For some reason Harry hadn't seemed as grateful as she had thought he would be.

"LEAVE ME ALONE WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS PRESSURING ME YOU EXPECT ME TO DO MY HOMEWORK AND BATHE REGULARLY AND CHANGE MY UNDERWEAR EVERYDAY AND NOT ONLY ALL THAT HARD WORK NOW I HAVE TO LOVE YOU AS WELL?"

Hermione sighed.

"Honestly, Ron!" she said hotly. "How long are you going to keep doing that? You're not an animal!"

Ron looked confused. Then again, there was never a time that he didn't look confused.