A.N. This is horrible, but I pushed through!

Position: ALL THE POSITIONS! (this round)

Team: Tutshill Tornados Captain (Captain versus team)

Round: Dummy Pre-round

Word Count: 1774

Warning- There may be slight out of character-ness...

More than anything, Neville wanted to apparate into the hoop. He was one of the few who had not been able to do it in his year, and felt embarrassment with every attempt.

Destination, Determination, and Deliberation.

He would run it over his mind constantly. It was so he didn't forget.

Neville just had to get it right. He remembered his grandmother telling him how his father had done it on the first try. Frank Longbottom had passed with flying colours. Then there was Neville Longbottom, an 'A' plus in failure. Neville felt ashamed he would be failing his father once again.

Neville felt like the sounds of other students, the laughter, it everyone laughing at him. He felt his ears burn red, even if no one was so much as sparing him a glance. Neville would walk around slouching after every apparition lesson, and perking up hopefully before every single one.

"Come on Alice, it's easy!" Frank grinned.

"People who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do." Alice muttered, rolling her eyes goodnaturedly.

"I'll do it, then." Frank said, nodding to himself. "Just watch me."

"Frank, the instructor-" Alice started, looking worriedly at him.

The instructor was on the other side of the room with the teachers, speaking to a student. Alice tried to tell Frank this, because he was bound to get in trouble, or worse, splinched. However, Frank didn't hear her, and turned on the spot.

Neville was in the library, doing yet another essay on one of the tables with large books surrounding him. It was a slow day. What with the rain outside pouring heavily, causing the library to darken considerably despite the torches and lanterns placed around the area.

With this setting, he could barely comprehend his own thoughts. So, Neville sat back, staring at his work in a frustrated manner. He dropped the quill he had been writing with upon the table, before scratching his head.

Neville had no intents of going back to his work anytime soon, and so drew up thoughts to occupy his time. As he did this, the words 'Destination, Determination, and Deliberation' popped into his head.

He let out a puff of air, thinking over this problem. Neville could not think of any other ways to successfully apparate without practice. Even then, Neville could only practice at certain times when the instructor was there, and they were all gathered inside the hall. There was no way of improving his apparition skills.

With that thought, Neville stood up in a dejected manner, and began to pack up his possessions. Perhaps he had to only try harder this time. It was unfortunate that he had planted the thought of not being good enough, in his head.

Neville was in potions. He attempted to keep his head down, with the Professor pacing around the room. He felt a bead of sweat make its way down his cheek. Neville was too busy being a nervous mess to notice the bead of sweat decided to fall into his potion.

It happened quickly. The explosion. It caused his hair to stick up, and ash to cover his face. Neville closed his eyes for a moment as he heard his professor's footsteps coming towards himself. Neville opened them when he felt his professor next to him.

"You complete imbecile!" Snape told him. "What did you you go and do now?"

"I-I-" Neville started, before looking down dejectedly. "I don't know."

Snape glared at him, before announcing to the class. "Typical of a Gryffindor. Nothing in between their ears but empty space."

Neville's face turned red, as he looked down again.

"Don't worry Neville." Hermione said, offering a smile. "Practice makes perfect."

It was the only way of being successful at apparition. Neville just had to practice. He could not take the pressure of doing it in a hall full of people, could he? No, Neville would never be able to do that. He decided that right then and there, he would take the Weasley twins' skiving snackboxes to skip the apparition. Neville would practice on his own in another area of Hogwarts. A private area.

So that was what Neville did. He found that he was quite a bit more successful with every attempt. Neville could feel the pull, but didn't actually transport. Finally, after the fourth time of skipping it, he did it successfully. Neville was in an abandoned classroom-right below the Great Hall.

On the fourth time of skipping, he had done it. However, on his third time of skipping, he had been given a warning. Unfortunately, Neville had not taken heed.

For it was on his third attempt that he was found out, by Professor Dumbledore. The old wizard had appeared before he started one of his many attempts.

Neville bit his lip. 'Destination, Determination, and Deliberation.'

Again, the young wizard turned on the spot. He thought of the hoop next to him. Neville forced with all of his strength to reach the hoop. Neville felt the pull, and so toppled over on the spot, losing his destination. He sighed to himself. Would he ever get it in time?

"Having trouble?"

Neville turned his head to see Professor Dumbledore, his headmaster standing at the door. Neville scrambled to his feet, feeling panic overwhelm him.

"Albus-er-Dumbledore, um, Professor-sir." Neville stumbled through his words loudly.

Dumbledore nodded silently, taking the greeting as an invitation to enter the room. The wizard faced away from Neville, walking along the outskirts of the room and surveying the different objects.

"Sir?" Neville started, looking at his feet.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?" Dumbledore asked, pulling out a book and turning around.

The older wizard did not look at Neville, or at least, directly. Instead, Dumbledore flipped the pages of the book he held, reading the words.

"I'm ready."

"For what, if I may ask?"

"For my punishment. If I'm going to be expelled, I'll do it." Neville said. "My grandmother may be angry, but it is my fault after all."

"My dear boy, you will not be punished." Dumbledore said, looking up now. "Certainly not to those extremes either!"

"I'm not getting punished?" Neville asked, eyes wide.

Instead of answering his question, Dumbledore stopped his finger at a sentence in the book he held. The older wizard cleared his throat before speaking.

"We know what we are, but know not what we may be." he said, calmly. "It is quite the puzzle, isn't it?"

Realizing that Dumbledore wanted him to respond, he did so.

"I suppose, but what if I do not know who I am?" Neville asked, confused.

"Oh, but you do, just not who you are to become." Dumbledore said, walking back to the door. "This book is quite enjoyable, I think I will keep it."

Dumbledore was about to leave, when Neville called out.

"Professor! Am I meant to continue my apparition in here?" Neville asked.

Dumbledore studied Neville before saying, "If you wish to risk it there will most likely be a cost. How damaging, I am unsure. Should it be so harmful, you risk aid of others."

Neville nodded.

Neville grabbed at his ear in pain as he landed. Neville had done it, but his ear was hurting the worst it ever had. Neville drew back his hand, feeling it had become wet. Before he saw it, his stomach sunk. There was blood on his hand. He didn't know whether to go to the nurse for help, or let it bleed.

Neville would have to create a story for Madam Pomfrey if it came to that. The older witch was friends with his grandmother, and she could very well tell. The healer's loyalties lay with his grandmother more than himself, no doubt. His story would have to be convincing.

Neville knew he couldn't do that. So, Neville went through the cupboards around him. Perhaps there was something he could use?

Neville found it, some rolled up cloth in a small cupboard in the corner. He blew off the dust, then let it roll out. Neville cut the cloth, using his wand. It did so. He then wrapped it around his head, the best he could, trying to conceal the blood.

"He can do it." his grandmother muttered happily to his great-uncle, Algie.

"Good job, kid." Algie said. "What happened to the ear?"

Neville touched his ear, where it was scabbing over. He dropped his hand and smiled at his great-uncle.

"Just an accident was all."

"No wild adventure to go with it?" Algie grinned.

He punched Neville's shoulder lightly. Neville chuckled at his uncle. Soon enough, though, Neville became solemn. His great-uncle placed a hand on Neville's shoulder, causing the younger wizard to feel like a child. The party of three (Neville's grandmother, his great-uncle, and him) were walking towards room two-twenty-two. The three reached it, and walked inside. It was a large room, where a few patients were. Neville saw a man and woman at the end. He started towards them.

The two recognized the three, and waved excitedly, not unlike children. They sat up, and awaited the three's presence. The two adults, male and female, did not speak. In fact, their eyes were slightly glazed over, showing that they were in a slight daze.

Neville pulled up a stool, and sat between their two beds. He only sat with them, but brought out a chocolate frog for his father, and a licorice wand for his mother. The two took it, both happily. He watched as they stared at their objects. As soon as his father finished eating the chocolate frog, he paused to look at Neville.

To Neville's confusement, his father came up close to him, and stared at his face squinting. Then his father brought his own hand up to Neville's ear, and touched it lightly. Neville could feel the cool fingers graze his scab lightly. His father, Frank, then sat back. Neville, to his utter bewilderment, saw his father look to Alice and do something that was different.

He smiled.

"Frank!" Alice yelped.

She raced up to him, as he had blood coming down the side of his head. Alice turned pale at the sight of it, hoping that Frank was alright.

"I'm fine." Frank laughed. "Your confidence in me is an insult."

"You're bleeding…" Alice whispered, staring at the side of his head.

"What?" Frank frowned.

He brought his hand up to the spot where Alice was staring at. His fingers were met with a warm liquid. Frank looked at Alice.

"Guess my ear disagreed with me, then?"

A.N. Thanks for reading!

This is the start of my oneshots for this season of the Tutshill Tornados.

Prompts: (Beater) 1, 13 (Chaser) 4, 9, 12

Cheers!

Lupe