Neville Longbottom and the Albion Book
Neville Longbottom wasn't a very a popular child. Or booksmart. Or streetsmart. Or good-looking, charming, witty... the list goes on. What he did have in his favour though, was an extensive imagination and from it, a love of reading. At the end of a day of Malfoy strutting about the place, Snape scowling at everything that moved without a green tie, and struggling through classes, he'd draw the curtains around his bed, whisper 'lumos' and read. He wasn't fussy about what he read: sometimes history, sometimes horror (only occasionally, as it gave him nightmares) but mostly fantasy. Neville loved to escape into his own head, where he wasn't stupiduglyclumsy Neville Longbottom; but valiant knight Sir Neville slaying perfidious warlocks to save the Kingdom,or poor farmhand Neville who fulfils his destiny and kills the dragon. So when over the Summer holidays his Gran had dragged him by the ear to Diagon Alley on a shopping trip, he took the chance to look through Flourish and Blott's latest arrivals. Not being a popular genre – there wasn't much demand for tales of wizards and demons when they lived it out every day- the Fantasy section was shunted up the back of the shop.
He was trying to choose between The War of the Ring: The REAL Account, or Britannia's Quests, Vol.4: The search for Posiden's Trident when unease struck him. The last time he'd felt this way, he was immobilised on the floor, watching the backs of Harry, Ron and Hermione as they climbed out of the portrait hole to confront Voldemort. Clenching his eyes shut tightly, he tried to breathe deeply and count to ten, just like Hermione had told him to when Snape was breathing down his neck in potions. When the tingling in his stomach didn't go away, his breathing grew more ragged. He practically flung the books back on the shelf and spun on his heel. He hit something solid and stumbled back into the bookshelf. He felt magic shoot past his hair like a sea breeze and hit the bookcase behind him, steadying it. 'Wandless' Neville thought. He opened his eyes and was met by an image of pure beauty. He'd ran into a tall, exquisite woman, clad in azure robes and with eyes grey as the North Sea and black hair flowing down her back.
"Oh I-I-I'm so sorry!" Neville stuttered. "Are yo-".
"Neville, I'm absolutely fine, thank you." Her voice was warm, and she had a home counties accent.
'How does she know my name?' he thought suspiciously.
"I've seen you here a lot, Neville. Ever since you were a small child! It's wonderful that a boy still takes pleasure in reading. So," her hand shot into her robes, and with a flourish she produced a thick, navy blue book that had strange symbols on it and three distinct images. Neville could see a lion, a dragon and a unicorn on the cover. The lion glinted in the light like real gold; the dragon was a fiery red like a ruby while the unicorn was silvery grey like moonlight.
"Look, not to seem ungrateful, but I've never met you before, and that looks incredibly expensive. And old! Why are you giving me this?" Neville explained, his voice wavering but strengthening as confusion leaked in.
The strange woman tilted her head to the side slightly, then smiled slightly.
"Because, Neville. You've earned it." Her smile then became a full blown grin, " and if you haven't yet, you soon will!" She pushed the book into his hands, planted a quick kiss on his cheek then turned on her heel and strode away. Neville, flustered shocked and bright red, could only watch as she melted into the labyrinth of bookshelves.
The book practically hummed with magic beneath his fingertips, as Neville traced the outline of the animals on the cover. Neville knew he should really show it to his Gran, and make her check it for spells. And he would. Really.
When he was safely home and in his room, Neville pulled the book out from the Flourish and Blotts bag he'd stashed it in.
He laid it out reverently on the bed in front of him, the different coloured animals on the cover gleaming as the light hit them. Nevile could sense a latent power within the pages. It seemed... older, deeper, than anything that Neville had ever experienced. The rush he felt when he picked up a wand for the first time was dwarfed by it. It rivalled, perhaps even surpassed the magic threaded through the corridors and rooms of Hogwarts.
"I shouldn't be doing this." he said to himself. Tentatively, he opened up the book and found that the page was blank. "Hmm, that's strange. I should've known that woman was a nutter!" He shook his head, and tapped it lightly with his index finger. There was a blinding flash of light, and then darkness, and finally Neville knew no more.
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Neville couldn't see anything at first, still blinded by the flash of light. He could, however, hear an incredibly familiar voice calling on him. A female voice. One that made him both overjoyed and terrified at the same time.
"Neville, you must rise. Our Lord leaves to test his worth at the High Cathedral, and you must have his equipment ready for his departure." He could make out a blurry shape now, but it couldn't be. 'No way. Impossible!' he thought.
"You should be glad that he requested your presence specifically. Who knows what the good knight's favour could bring! Just imagine it, Neville – one day you could be Neville Longbottom, the Freeman!". Neville could clearly make out the figure now. There in front of him, busying about what looked like a small cottage was a woman he never though he'd see this way. She was wearing peasant's clothes, but her wide smile, incessant chatter and eyes positively dancing with mirth meant Neville had never seen his mother look more resplendent.
Ok, so I know the beginning seems a lot like the Neverending story. But it's different, honest!
Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Like, a lot. Constructive criticism is welcomed (Telling me I've used a British spelling does not count!). I'm genuinely excited to finally be putting this in words after being in my head for a year or so.