Neville Longbottom: The Boy Who Survived
Chapter 1: An Ordinary Wizard
On that fateful night, thirteen years ago, A Dark Lord was lost at the hands of a small baby named Harry Potter. Had that boy survived, he would have been a celebrity among all the witches and wizards. However, the small baby boy did not survive the Dark Lord's killing curse. The savior of the wizarding war was no more. He wasn't going to grow up and become some great wizard that encountered some great feats. But he wasn't alone. He may had passed over, but his family was with him. And that was the silver lining of this small tale. From now on, Halloween wouldn't just be the only holliday for October thirty first. It was also the day every witch and wizard would pay homage to the Potter Family.
This isn't some story about a boy who goes out of his way saving the people he loves. This is a story about an ordinary Wizard named Neville Longbottom. On this day of September 1, 1994, Neville was sitting in a train compartment by himself, waiting for the train to move to take him to his second home of Hogwarts. Neville was a fourteen year old boy with brown hair and hazel eyes, langly and skinny, and had yet to reach his full height.
Neville wasn't popular by any means. Not a lot of people actually knew his name. Some knew him by Norman and others, like from Slytherin house, knew him as the squib who couldn't do magic. But Neville didn't care that he wasn't popular. He was okay with who he was and liked it. He could do magic, of course, but he wasn't as great at it like others were at it. He knew he was good enough.
This year was Neville's fourth year of Hogwarts. His first three years weren't too eventful unless you count the Basilisk coming and trying to kill muggleborn students back in year two. Luckily it was Dumbledore who had figured everything out and was unable to kill the snake and save Ginny Weasley, who was a girl in his house and a year younger. This year, Neville's Gran told him it was going to be a special year. So special, that he was to bring his own set of dress robes. What he didn't know, was that this year was the year that it was going to be extra special to him.
Suddenly, the train whistle blew, and a few seconds later, the train began to move. At that moment, Neville reached into his bag and pulled out a book entitled Magical Clear Water Herbs: Advantages and Disadvantages. He turned to the last page he had been reading from the night before, which had been about a seaweed named Gillyweed.
Suddenly, the compartment door opened. Neville looked up from his book and was surprised to see two pretty girls at the door. One had auburn colored hair and blue yes, while the other was a brunette with brown eyes. Neville knew them as Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, his crush, from Hufflepuff house. Another thing to know about Neville was that, even though he kept his head down, he always observed the world around him. He knew who everyone was, what house they were from, and what they could do with their wand. These two girls were kept more to the popular crowd. They were well-known and well-liked, and he wondered why the would come in here to sit with a nobody like him.
"Hi," Hannah greeted with a small smile. Neville smiled back, his heart racing a little. "Is it okay if we sit here with you?" she asked, pleading in her eyes. "Everywhere else is pretty much full up."
"Not at all," Neville replied with a shake of his head.
The two girls entered with their trunks and owls, placing them on the shelves above their heads, shut the door, and sat down with relieving sighs. "I thought we were never going to find a place to sit," Susan said to her friend Hannah. "It seems so cramped these days."
"Especially this year for what's going on," Hannah replied. Neville's ears perked up.
"You heard something's going on too?" Susan said with her eyebrows raised. "Do you know what it is?"
Hannah shook her head. "No I don't," he answered. "But it must be something special since we were told to bring dress robes." Susan nodded in agreement, and Neville tuned them out once they began to talk about girl things and school work.
Neville didn't have that many friends, to be honest. If he thought about it, all he had were people who were nice to him and felt sorry for him. He wasn't very good at making friends. He tried his first year, but he couldn't handle Ron Weasley's jibes, jokes, or quidditch talk; nor could he keep up with Hermione Granger's intelligent conversations. So he pretty much just stopped trying and kept to himself.
"How about you?" Neville heard one of the girls say. He looked up in confusions, the voice bringing him out of his thoughts and saw both girls looking at him.
"I'm sorry?" he said.
"How was you summer?" Hannah innocently asked.
Neville was thrown off by this question that he actually had to think how his summer was. It's been a while since someone actually asked or cared about his summer vacation. After a minute of silence, he answered, "It was alright, thanks for asking."
"Did you do anything interesting?" Susan asked politely.
Once again, Neville was thrown off by this question. They were talking to him, why? Neville opened his mouth, "I just spent my summer at my Uncle Algie's. He lives by this magical lake where I spent my time studying what kind of herbs and plants were there," he answered, looking between the girls, feeling as if he was going to be attacked or something.
"So you like herbology?" Susan asked, glancing at her best friend.
Neville nodded. "It's my favorite subject," he answered, looking down and fiddling with his book.
Susan smirked. "You don't have to be afraid of us, Neville," she said, surprising Neville that she knew his name. "We won't bite...well, at least I won't." Neville looked back in confusion and then looked at Hannah who was blushing and glaring at her best friend. Susan tried not to laugh, and suddenly the compartment door opened once again and in strutted the most pretentious Hufflepuff ever, Ernie MacMillan.
"Susan, Hannah," he spoke, having someone standing next to him, to which Neville noticed with was Zacharias Smith. "What are you two doing here? There's plenty of room in my compartment. You don't have to sit here with this Gryffindork."
Susan rolled her eyes while Hannah silently glared at her housemate. Neville just stared at the Hufflepuff, wishing he'd combust into flames. He was never really fond of MacMillan, seeing as he knew how it was MacMillan who caused Neville his very first failing grade in his most beloved subject. "We're fine where we are Ernie," Susan answered, crossing her arms. "We're perfectly comfortable."
"Oh alright then," Ernie replied with a nod, then pointed at Neville. "Hey, Shlongbottom. Beat it - "
"He doesn't have to leave!" Hannah nearly shouted, her hands clenched into fists. "He can stay here if he wants!" Neville's eyebrows shot up in surprise. No one has really every defended him, besides a few of the choice Gryffindors.
"What's got your panties in a twist," Ernie shot, glancing at Hannah who looked away, trying not to blush, but being unsuccessful.
"Look, MacMillan," Susan began, "We're all good here. No one is going anywhere. We're all comfortable."
Ernie smirked. "I see," he said, and then glanced at Neville who looked away. "Enjoy your ride." And with that, he turned and left the compartment with his best friend Zach.
"I swear, he get's more idiotic everyday," Susan replied with a shake of her head. "Just because he thinks he's so handsome," she mumbled.
"Sorry about that," Hannah apologized, looking at Neville.
Neville waved it off. "It's okay," he answered, smiling at Hannah who smiled back. Neville's heart skipped a beat when he saw her smile.
"Oh!" Susan exclaimed. "I forgot to asked you about the Quidditch Cup! Is it true? You-know-who's mark? Was it there?"
Hannah nodded. "I saw it," she replied as Neville went back to his book but kept on listening. "Everyone who was there saw it. The place was in chaos. Those poor muggles. I can't believe what I saw. It was so scary, I thought something horrible was going to happen."
"Did they find the person who put up the dark mark?" Susan asked.
Hannah shook her head. "No, I don't think so," She answered.
The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, but Neville wasn't really hungry at the moment and decided not to get anything.
"Here!" Hannah said, tossing a chocolate frog towards Neville who turned where the chocolate frog hit him in the forehead, causing his head to push back and hit the back of his head on the window with a thud. Susan turned and silently laughed while Hannah covered her mouth in horror. Neville winced and rubbed the back of his head. "I am so sorry," Hannah apologized.
"It's okay," Neville replied with a reassuring smile. "I'm alright. Or I will be in a minute or two."
"I'm sorry," Hannah repeated, whipping out her wand after pulling out a handkerchief. She waved her wand, conjuring some ice cubes, placing them in the handkerchief and tieing it closed. She took the ice pack she created and handed it Neville who was in awe of her magic.
"Thanks," Neville said, accepting the ice pack and placing it on the back of his head. Hannah smiled in response and nodded.
Soon, they were getting close to Hogwarts. Neville left the compartment to change into his robes, leaving the girls to use the compartment to change. And then, the train stopped. Neville had arrived at his home away from home.
Neville followed Hannah and Susan off of the train, where it happened to be pouring rain and lightning in the sky. "We should get a carriage together," Susan suggested, leading Hannah and Neville forward.
The trio made it to one of the carriages a minute later. Neville helped the two girls into the carriage, but didn't get into it himself. "Come on," Hannah said, waving him in.
"I think I should find another carriage with my own housemates," Neville said. "It was a nice train ride though, I had a good time."
"Don't be ridiculous, Neville," Susan said, "Ride with us."
"It's alright," Neville said, smiling at the duo. "I'll find another carriage." Neville turned, not hearing his name being called and ran to find another carriage to ride in with some of his own housemates.
Meanwhile, the door of the carriage closed and began to move. "I don't understand," Hannah whispered towards Susan. "Why didn't he just ride with us?" They were in a carriage with a couple of older Hufflepuffs, and there was plenty of room for Neville, but he didn't want ride with them. "There's plenty of room here."
Susan shrugged. "I don't know," she replied. "He's a recluse. He's still kind of shy and quiet. But he'll come around i bet. I don't think he's as stupid as most boys that go to this school." Hannah nodded, hoping her best friend was right.
Minutes later, Neville entered the Great Hall, quickly moving towards the end of the Gryffindor table to get a seat closer to the door, so once the feast was over, he could high tail it out of there and get into his bed and sleep. Neville looked around seeing the familiar faces of his house. He looked up and scanned the head table. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Neville's least favorite person at Hogwarts. He didn't know what it was, but Snape was always scrutinizing his work, mostly for no reason at all.
On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Neville guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Neville glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.
Minutes later, the sorting began, and just as it began, it was over. Once it was over, the feast began. Neville grabbed some food and began to eat. He looked around as he ate, just mind his own business and hearing conversations. Curious, he looked over at the Hufflepuff Table, scanning it. He quickly came across Hannah who had suddenly looked down at her plate. Was she looking at him? He continued down and he was surprised to see MacMillan glaring hard at him. Neville stared back for a couple of seconds and then turned his head back to his food.
After some food, Dumbledore went on with his usual announcements. And then came the big announcement that shocked the entire school.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
There were a lot of murmurs and shouts of disappointments. Neville, however, could care less at Quidditch. He knew he wasn't very good at it. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"
But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. There, a man stood. He was tall, with scars all over his face, and had a magical eye. His foot clunked as he made his way up to the head table.
"May I introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore spoke. "Professor Alastor Moody." Surprisingly, no one clapped. Neville sighed and leaned on his hand, wanting to go to bed.
"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year." There were many excited whispers and murmurs at this. Neville sat up straight and listened intently.
"the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.
"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Neville could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"
Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. Neville quickly stood up and aimed for the door. Someone, however, was quicker, and he ended up tripping onto the floor.
"Whoa, easy there, Longbottom," someone said. Neville, turned and looked up, seeing Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan snickering at him, and passing by.
"Have a nice trip?" Seamus said, passing by. Neville glared at the three passing boys and stood to his feet, brushing himself off.
"Are you just going to stand there and take that?" someone asked. Neville turned to see who had said that. It was a tall boy with green eyes and blond hair. It was another Gryffindor, but Neville knew him as a Seventh year. His name was Dorian Westbrook.
Neville shrugged. "Take it from me," he said, walking up to Neville. "No one's going to take you seriously if you're just going to let them walk all over you." He patted Neville's shoulder and continued on. Neville sighed.
"Are you okay?" asked a familiar voice. Neville didn't look, knowing who it was. "I'm fine. Thanks Hermione." He said, glancing at the bookworm and giving her a warm smile. Neville turned and left the Great Hall.
The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as The Gryffindors and Slytherins were in the Greenhouses for Herbology. Neville had a small smile has he worked on the Bubutobers and gathered its pus. Next class was Care of Magical Creatures, another class Neville seemed to be decent at. The Gryffindors were paired with the Hufflepuffs. Today, they were handling Blast-Ender Skrewts. Funny looking creatures that had just hatched.
Neville picked up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and walked over to the farthest crate. He knelt down and lowered some liver into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. He looked down and around with a confusion look upon his face, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.
After about ten minutes of trying to feed them, Neville was staring in the distance, his hand dangling aimlessly inside the crate when he felt a small burn on his hand. He hissed, quickly pulling out his hand.
"Are you okay?" Someone asked. Neville looked up from looking at and nursing his hand. It was Hannah who knelt down next to him. She held out her hand. Neville gave her his burned hand. "It looks okay," she said. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
Neville smiled back. "I know," he answered. "As long as their small, their burns won't be too bad. But the bigger they get, the more their blasts could really burn."
Hannah smiled. "So you're also good in this class, huh," she said.
Neville shrugged. "I know just enough," he replied with a smile. The two continued to talk to one another as they attempted to feed the Blast Ended Skrewts. Once their class was over, Hannah walked with Neville up to the castle.
"What class do you have next?" Hannah asked as the trudged up towards the Castle.
"Divination," Neville replied, not noticing Hannah make a face. "What about you?"
"Ancient Runes," she replied.
"Oh, you must smart," Neville said, heaving his bag over his shoulder, "That's a tough class, or so I hear."
"It's pretty interesting," Hannah began to say. "It's a lot on making spells and curses last longer, and for rituals, stuff like that." The duo entered the entrance hall, making their way towards the Great Hall when Hannah stopped Neville by touching his arm. "Um, Neville," she spoke nervously. Neville looked back questioningly. "If you're not doing anything later this weekend, would you like to study together?"
Neville stared back in shock. No one had ever asked him to study, at least not since first year. He slowly nodded. "Okay, yeah sure," he answered. Hannah smiled and turned into the Great Hall. Neville smiled to himself as he too entered the Great Hall and made his way over to the Gryffindor Table. His heart was pounding in excitement. He was going to study with the girl he happened to have a crush on this weekend.
Neville had sat down when he felt someone pat his shoulder. He looked up and saw Dorian Westbrook sit next to him. "Hey mate," he greeted. "Who was the pretty girl?"
"Hannah Abbot," Neville answered shyly.
"Abbott, really?" Dorian said with a nod, looking back at the Hufflepuff table. "Not bad, Longbottom." Neville gave a small smile. "You know, her uncle runs the Leaky Cauldron."
After Lunch, Neville was moving to the tallest tower of the castle for his double Divinations class. He wasn't really paying attention during the whole class because he wasn't very fond of it. He always wondered why he took this boring class. And then the answer would always come to him. Because he wasn't smart enough for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, nor was he interested in studying about Muggles. He knew enough about them.
Soon, the class was over and everyone was leaving. Neville was on his way out when he dropped his book, he bent down and picked it up. Once he stood up straight, he nearly jumped in fright as Professor Trelawney was standing right there in front of him, staring right at him with a strange glossy look in her eye. Neville looked back in confusion, and then began to walk past her, but suddenly, she gripped his arm tightly.
"Ow," he hissed. "Professor?"
Professor Trelawney reached up with her right hand, touching the right side of Neville's forehead, and with a finger, she traced his forehead, as if writing a slanted z on it. Neville was so confused as to why she was doing this. But then, she stared right into his eyes and spoke. "He is near," she said in a whisper. "He will return. A touch of destiny is upon us. A hero needs to rise up. Or all will be lost." And then she blinked, letting go of his arm, confusion etched upon her face. "Can I help you?" she asked.
Neville quickly shook his head and left the room as quickly as he could, terrified at hwat had just happened. Not just terrified, but confused. What did all that even mean? Who is near and returning? What hero? And all will be lost? Was that supposed to be some sort of joke. Because if it wasn't, Neville didn't find it amusing at all.