10,000 DREAMS
A story about Neville Longbottom
Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned any of these characters. This is purely a work of love and an annoying muse who wouldn't leave me alone until this was completed.
Summary: A conversation with Hermione starts Neville down a path towards an end no one could have imagined.
The journey back from St Mungo's was cold and silent. Neville walked quickly his feet noiseless on the tiled floor. His hands were thrust into his jacket pockets, one hand caressing the small square within. Lost in the layers of his clothes he felt rather than heard the mocking crinkle of the foil wrapper. Crinkle. Crunch. He turned it over in his fingers and wished, not for the first time, that there was something he could do.
The Gryffindor common room was brightly lit by the roaring fire and torches lining the walls. The scarlet and gold hangings covered the walls and combined with the soft couches and worn tables to give the room a cheerful and homely feel. His back to the rest of the common room he sat tucked away on one of the smaller couches, elbows to knees and head bent as he surveyed the small item in his hand.
The common room was loud, the chaotic sounds of students regaling each other with stories and tales of their holidays masking the silence of the boy in the corner. He hadn't spoken to anyone since his return. Not a word had passed his lips, not even to speak to the Fat Lady. Harry and Ron were avoiding him. He guessed it was due to the fact that neither of them knew what to say to him. The absence of his friends, even just the absence of a passing acknowledgment hurt him. If even his friends couldn't handle the truth, who could? He passed the paper over in his hands, the noise deafening as it crinkled between his fingers. He had stacks of these little foil squares in piles inside his trunk upstairs. He couldn't bear to throw them away. They were all he had.
The only warning, he had that someone had joined him on the lounge was the slight dipping of the cushion beneath him. Hermione sat next to him, arms cradling something against her chest as she gathered her thoughts. She stared at the table in front of them silently for a moment before words started spilling from her mouth.
"I'm not sure how much you know about Muggle history Neville, but in 1939 there was a huge World War. Country against country, there seemed to be no end in sight."
She turned to look at him then, he shrugged absently and waited for her to continue. Hermione pulled her bushy hair over one shoulder and went on.
"By 1945 the war had been going for so long, and the death toll was so high that America decided to take a drastic stand in order to end it. They dropped two Atomic bombs, one in Hiroshima, the other in Nagasaki and…"
"What's an atomic bomb?" Neville looked up as he cut her off. Hermione smiled, and took his questions as the encouraging sign they were. She launched into a lecture about the atomic bombs, how and why it was used, the after effects and the dread inducing sight of the mushroom cloud. She gesticulated wildly with one hand, the other clutched to her chest, the objects inside hidden by her baggy sweater. She seemed to come alive during this lecture and Neville felt the world shift slightly as she spoke. The cloudy edges became lighter and he felt himself smile even through the horrific story she was telling. The wrapper lay forgotten in his fingers as she continued.
"The mushroom cloud was so terrifying it has basically become the Muggle equivalent of the Dark Mark. If you see it, you know that no-one survived. You know that everyone was dead." Hermione paused, suddenly unsure and she looked at him. The fire crackled behind them and the sounds of the other students rushed back into his ears.
"Why are you telling me this Hermione?" His voice cracked a bit. He licked his lips, they were dry after so many days of disuse. Hermione lowered her voice, not that it mattered, hidden away as they were in the corner. No one was paying them any attention. Her voice was soft, lilting as she told him the story about a young girl. A girl who had made wishes on pieces of paper and died before her wish could come true. Hermione told him of the girl's friends, who had completed her wish and buried her with the pieces of paper.
"Sadako is seen as a symbol of hope, not just that if you wish hard enough it will come true, but because even when all seems lost, there is always something to hope and dream for. There is always a way to keep moving forward." She put the items in her hands on the table in front of them. It was a book and some square pieces of paper. She gave the book to him and he turned to the marked page. Cranes.
"I know you keep the wrappers your mother gives you. I thought you might like to do something with them." She grabbed one of the squares in front of her.
"Here, let me start" Her fingers danced across the paper as she folded and turned it. He placed his wrapper on the table and started folding. Crinkle. Crunch. Smooth it. Turn it. The sounds of folding paper took over them, soft and comforting as before them two origami cranes manifested. I just want my parents to know who I am, and to be proud of me. Fold. Crinkle.
It was the end of the school year, and Neville stood in his dormitory getting ready to go home for the summer. Hermione had shown him how to charm the little birds, so they flew and fluttered around his hangings as if strung on invisible thread. He could almost hear the wishes on each one as their wings moved up and down slowly on an invisible breeze.
Know Me. Be Proud.
At the head of the bed was a gold crane made from a Rollo's wrapper, there were also cranes made from the see-through wrappers from Sherbet Lemons, Black Jack Chews black cranes and colourful Fizzers. Hermione had given him some colourful cellophane and the light shone through their wings like stained glass. Crinkle. Flutter. He waved his wand and they swirled around him in a small indoor tornado before folding flat in his trunk. His books now hidden beneath the weight of almost 200 cranes. The whispers of his wishes stopped as he closed the lid with a snap. He walked downstairs with a smile, his heart lighter and for once he didn't dread going home to his Grandmother.
By the time September first had rolled around again Neville had folded more than 800 paper cranes. The monotonous activity providing relief from the disappointed glances and disparaging remarks of his Grandmother. Neville sought solace in the activity, the action providing a balm to the tumultuous feelings whirling within him.
Fold. Crinkle. Smooth. Know me, Be proud.
His fingers worked quickly, no longer needing to stop while he looked at the next instruction. He cast a quick (and imperfect) disillusionment charm on the cranes and they stilled, before changing to camouflage against the backdrop of his bedroom. Any one that looked at his room with more than a passing glance would notice them, however Neville was proud of his achievement, and knew that his Grandmother wouldn't be in his room while he was at school. He gathered his things and prepared to floo to Kings Cross. The grating voice of his Grandmother telling him to hurry up ringing in his ears.
The Hogwarts express left the station with a whistle and a sigh. Neville couldn't wait to return to his familiar dormitory. As he sat staring out the window at the rolling landscape he was joined by a bushy haired girl and a blonde who seemed to stare at something invisible in the corner of the compartment.
"Don't worry Neville, Wrackspurts aren't dangerous, and they will leave you alone soon enough."
Neville smiled at her, "Thanks Luna." Hermione dug around in her bag and pulled out a stack of geometrically designed papers. They were soft and thin, perfect for folding. She handed them to him with a smile.
"I found these in a boutique store while I was on holiday with my parents." She explained. "I thought they might add nicely to your collection."
"Hermione these are wonderful. Thanks", she stood up and mentioned having to join the others at the front of the train before disappearing out the door.
Neville and Luna sat in a comfortable silence for a while as he started folding. Fold. Smooth. Know me. Be Proud. He had completed another five cranes before Harry stumbled through the compartment's door.
Conversation soon flowed between the three, only halting for a moment due to an interruption by Romilda Vane. Once Harry firmly told her not to bother him and that Luna and Neville were his "most loyal friends" they soon regained their discussion. Before long they were being driven in the Thestral drawn carriages towards the school.
Term moved along quite quickly, and after minor adjustments to their timetables (Neville found himself actually missing Transfiguration and having Snape for DADA took a bit to get used too) it was soon time for Christmas break. Neville had added close to another 300 cranes to his tally. He now had over 1,500 and aside from the ones in his room at his Grandmothers, they had begun fluttering around his bed again. The beautiful paper Hermione had given him as well as the wrappers from Drooble's Blowing Gum fluttered around him in their folded forms whispering to him and crinkling as they flew on a non-existent breeze. Know me. Be proud. Cranes of every colour and type of paper available surrounded him while he slept, and he found that he slept better with their whispers and promises of hope serenading his ears.
June came before he realised, the school year was almost over when one evening the screams of students reached him. He grabbed his wand from the table and left the squares he hadn't completed yet as he raced out of the common room. Neville soon realised there were Death Eaters inside the castle and he felt his heart leap into his throat when he realised he might soon be face to face with Bellatrix.
Spells flew around the corridors and he leapt into the fray without thinking about what he was doing. His wand seemed to work independently of his brain, fuelled by the simmering anger at the Death Eaters and what they had done to the lives of himself, and his classmates. Every Death Eater he met took the face of Bellatrix in his head and he cast charms, spells, jinxes and curses while trying to reach his friends. He gave an almighty yell as he turned the corner and saw Death Eaters making their way towards the giant doors of the castle. Suddenly there was a light surrounding him and he fell.
Know me. Be proud. Crinkle. Neville woke in the hospital wing a short time later. He shook the fog from his head and sat. He slowly pulled the wheeled tray towards him where someone had sat a few small pieces of paper. Fold. Smooth. Turn. Know me. Be proud. He sat there folding until Luna came to help him to the grounds below.
His eyes burned as he farewelled the headmaster and with it any thoughts he had stubbornly refused to relinquish as to their safety in the coming war. In his head he imagined himself folding more of his cranes. Be proud. Please wake up. He was at 4,100 now. Each one memorised in his head. Wrappers. Plain colours. Red, Blue, Green, yellow. Patterned papers. Cellophane. Tissue paper. Scrap parchment. Neville had made Cranes out of everything he could get his hands on. He placed them all in his trunk with a melodic crinkle and left the castle.
Neville gazed around the colourful room. His parents had loved the "little birdies" that fluttered softly around the room. They didn't recognise him when he had placed the Cranes around the room, they but had liked the distraction. Even now, days after the initial set up the healers could see the change in Alice and Frank. Unfortunately for Neville, even though he had now just passed the 5,000 mark there didn't seem to be a cure for his parents. But then, had he really expected one?
His bedroom was covered in the flying birds. There was almost no free space for anything other than anything other than the paper and figures he created. He pushed the burning sensation in his chest down and tried to forget the feeling of his parents staring at the birds with more emotion than they had ever stared at him. Fold. Smooth. Turn. Fold. Smooth. Crinkle. Please know who I am. Please be proud of me. Fold. Smooth. Turn.
This time the Hogwarts Express was a hive of activity. Harry Ron and Hermione were notably absent this year. Neville found himself thinking of them as well while he spoke to Ginny and Luna. They were all worried about the future. His hands seemed to move autonomously. Fold. Smooth. Turn. Crinkle. Please be safe. Please know me. Please be proud.
The Carrow's were horrible people. Many of the students that year ended up in tears and tortured due to the Carrow's conflicting and despicable beliefs. Neville found himself sinking into the cranes instead of talking to his friends or discussing future events. Fold. Smooth. Fold. Turn. Crinkle. The noise often overwhelmed him and the wishes he set upon the cranes seemed to drift once again into his dreams. Be safe. Remember me. Be proud. He had over 5,000 paper cranes, many of them residing in either his bedroom or his parent's room at St Mungo's. He was over halfway there. Soon he thought as he folded. Soon all this will be over. Soon all this will be better.
The Christmas holidays were horrible. Luna was snatched of the Hogwarts Express by Death Eaters in retaliation for the articles Xenophillius was printing in support of Harry Potter. It was just Ginny and Neville.
Fold. Turn. Repeat. Crinkle. Smooth. Rustle. Fold. Fold. Turn. Smooth. Remember me. Be proud.
Soon it was Easter. The torture of the students stopped for the holidays. Ginny went home to be with her family and never returned. Neville was covered with bruises, cuts and dried blood. At least he didn't need his eyes to fold the cranes anymore. Fold. Turn. Fold. Smooth. Remember me. Be safe. Be proud of me. He was alone.
A first year stumbled through the portrait hole, tears streaming. She was held up by a second-year boy. Fold. Turn.
"The Cruciatus curse." He explained to the silent common room. The rest of the Gryffindors handed over some of the last supplies left in the castle. Dittany. Pain potions. Blood Replenishers. All were now highly sought-after provisions. They were also on the list of prohibited items under the Death Eaters rule.
Neville stood. "We need to move."
The students gathered in the room of requirement. Neville was now living in the room full time, along with many of the students. The passage to the Hogs Head was their main source of news and nutrition, although only one or two students other than Neville seemed to be able to see it. He had completely forgone all schoolwork except for reading the Defence books provided by the room. He organised the students and made paper cranes. 2,200 to go. Fold. Crinkle. Rustle. Remember me. Be proud.
The Headmaster ruled over Hogwarts with an Iron fist, backed up of course by the Carrow siblings. Slughorn brewed his potions on Friday evenings. He was predictable.
They were always left on a table after labelling while he had a sniffer of Brandy in front of the fire in his office. According to the headmaster, routine stock replenishing was vital to their cause, and extra ingredients often found themselves in the storage rooms. Both Pomfrey and Slughorn enjoyed the routine. Somehow one or two of the house elves found out about this arrangement and soon the resistance had enough supplies to last the rest of the school year.
It was May. Harry came through the tunnel with Ron and Hermione. 1,500 to go.
It was time. Dumbledore's Army stood assembled for the last time. 1,485 to go.
Neville and Luna dashed through the corridors as once again Hogwarts was lit with a multitude of multi coloured spells. Out the corner of his eye he saw the curly hair that had haunted his dreams.
Luna disappeared from his side as he made his way to the greenhouses. Soon he had his arms filled with Venomous Tentacula, the plant surrounding and consuming the Death Eaters it was launched at.
Trelawny was throwing crystal balls from a balcony. "I've got more for those that want them," she called to the Death Eaters below. She sent another one sailing over his head as he ran out of plants and started throwing spells at the enemy around him.
Voldemort called for a cease fire. The death eaters retreated towards the forest as the dust started to settle and Neville started moving the bodies of the fallen into the great hall. Colin Creevy had snuck back into the castle and was lying in the rubble. Oliver Wood came up to him and grabbed his feet. Without a word Neville reached down and grabbed Colin under the arms.
The way to the Great Hall was filled with detritus from the battle. Rubble, fallen stones, bodies of Death Eaters, adults and students alike littered the halls, lying where they fell.
Then Harry was before him, materialising out of nowhere. "Kill the snake."
The conversation seems strange to Neville however he was to weary to think about what it could mean. He patted Harry on the shoulder and watched him disappear.
"NO!" McGonagall screamed, and Bellatrix laughed. Harry was before them, cradled in the manacled arms of a sobbing Hagrid. Then Neville found himself running forward. His world constricted to the laughing face of Lord Voldemort and he threw his hand out. He fell, disarmed, to the ground.
"You are a pure-blood, aren't you my boy?" He asked Neville as he lay on the ground.
"I'll join you when hell freezes over." Neville yelled through chapped lips. "Dumbledore's Army!" The defenders of Hogwarts rose in a cacophony of voices.
"On your head, so be it." Voldemort said quietly.
The sorting hat was thrust upon his head, he stood, immobilised as it was set on fire. The flames licked his ears as he stood unmoving. Suddenly a lot of things happened at once. An army burst forward from the edges of the school's boundary. The giants attacked. Harry stood up. Neville found himself able to move again. From the hat Neville drew a long silver sword and in one movement he sliced the head off the giant snake, her head spinning high into the air while Voldemort screamed. A shield charm erupted before him, protecting him from the voiceless curse that hurtled towards him from Voldemort.
Slughorn was throwing hexes, still dressed in his Emerald pyjamas. Several house elves joined the battle, stabbing and hacking at the ankles and knees of the Death Eaters. Scabior fell from the covered bridge as Neville and Seamus caused it to collapse. Bellatrix fell under the wand of Mrs Weasley. A few more spells rang out as Harry and Voldemort circled each other. Then there was silence. It was over. They had won. Neville sighed and fell to the ground. His head rested against the decimated wall behind him.
700 Cranes to go. Remember me. Be proud of me. Fold. Turn. Fold. Smooth. Crinkle.
The rebuilding of Hogwarts took several months. All students were released for the year after the battle, exams cancelled. Many of the survivors had a form of PTSD and many of the muggleborn or half-blood students were under the careful care of Psychologists. The Psychologists were fewer than many would have liked, as they were only able to choose from those who were already aware of the wizarding world, either by having magical siblings or children. It was Hermione though, who linked the muggle fields of Mind Sciences, with the wizarding ones.
"Did you hear me Neville?" She asked as they sat inside the Leaky Cauldron. "We may have come up with a way to help your parents."
Neville smiled at her as his hands continued to fold.
"That's great Hermione." 200 to go. Fold. Crinkle. Turn. Fold again. Know me. Be proud of me.
His parents were gazing again at the 9,900 Cranes that fluttered around their room. Know me. Be proud. The wishes whispered in his ears as he listened to the healers describe the new procedure. Hermione sat with him. Harry and Ron had long ago accepted the truth about Neville's parents, but he didn't want them here for this. Hannah would have offered, but she was unaware of both his parent's condition, and their potential recovery.
His Grandmother was also sitting in the corner, gazing distastefully at the fluttering birds. It was alright. Although she didn't understand why he felt like he had to fold so many, and she didn't exactly approve, she realised that he felt as though he had to do this for them. So, she let him continue. His hands flew along the paper as he wished on each square before folding them. Remember who I am. Please be proud of me. 80 to go. Fold. Crinkle. Fold. Smooth. Turn. Fold.
It was a Thursday. Just a regular day to the rest of the worls, but to Augusta and Neville it was a day to change their lives. The procedure was complete, and his parents were resting, just waiting until they woke up. Hermione had managed to drag Neville downstairs to the cafeteria to grab a coffee as it was 3 o'clock in the morning.
"Do you want me to stay?" She asked voice soft. "I can. I just wasn't sure if you wanted it to be just family when they wake up." She explained. 5 to go. Fold. Crinkle. Smooth. Turn. Remember me.
"Go get some rest Hermione." He replied, his eyes sore from the lack of sleep and dim lighting. "I'll finish these and walk you to the floo station." 4 to go. Fold. Turn. Be proud of me.
"It's ok Neville, I'll be fine, you just enjoy the time with your parents. I'll be back tomorrow morning to see you." She left, her beaded bag slung over her shoulder, a smile on her face as she waved goodbye. Neville didn't notice. He was so close. 1 to go. Fold. Smooth. Crinkle. Be proud of me. Remember who I am.
Neville walked back upstairs to his parent's room. He sat at the small table and got out the last square. Another Drooble's Blowing Gum wrapper. Fitting, wasn't it, that the final Crane would be the same as the First? His grandmother sniffed at him as he worked on the last crane.
Fold. Turn. Repeat. Please, remember your son. Please be proud of me. He watched as the last Crane flew up to join the rest above him. He felt slightly lost. It was complete. 10,000 paper cranes fluttered above their heads. As he sat there wondering what he was going to do now, Alice Longbottom opened her eyes. Her voice was soft, broken and cracking, but to the people sitting beside her bedside it sounded like the most beautiful music they had ever heard.
"Neville" she croaked softly. "Is that you?"
He cried.
The next Morning Augusta Longbottom joined her family in the ward. Frank and Alice were quickly brought up to speed on all of the news since their torture by Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Oh no. Lily and James. How is Harry doing?" They asked. They were still confined to their beds for observation, however Augusta had brought several new items of clothing for the couple, so they could be comfortable until their return home later that week.
Neville sat at the table by his mother's bed, his hands in a constant state of motion as he explained about the wizarding war, his years at Hogwarts and tried to apologise for losing his father's wand. Alice kept trying to pull Neville towards her while Augusta recounted the battle at the Ministry from what had been covered by the prophet.
"We are so proud of you Neville." She murmured into his hair, her body twisted in the bed so she could hold him. Neville wanted to stand up and hug her, but he couldn't move himself from the table. There was something he was forgetting but he couldn't figure it out.
A few days later Neville was sitting at the Leaky Couldron again. He trying to get up the nerve to Hannah who was pouring the patrons butterbeer and taking orders. His hands moved invisibly beneath the table as he tried to figure out what he would say to her. Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun and Neville thought she had never seemed prettier. Her face was alight with real joy, something that had been hard to find during the war. He laughed to himself, he had cut off the head of a giant snake, run headlong at Voldemort but he was too nervous to talk to a friend from school? To be fair, he had wanted to kill Voldemort, not ask him on a date, but still.
A shadow appeared on the table before him and Neville looked up to gaze upon the face of the boy-who-lived.
"Hey Harry, how have you been?"
Harry sighed. "Not good, Hermione is missing. The order is unable to locate her, but we don't even know where she went last Thursday."
At this Neville's hands stilled. His hands felt sticky, what was that?
"She was at St Mungo's with me." He admitted, his breath catching in his throat. "We were visiting my parents, Hermione helped the healers come up with a new procedure to help them." His hands started fluttering again in front of him. He couldn't think. What was he forgetting?
Harry seemed to stop for a minute then. "Did it work?" He asked finally. Neville smiled. "Yes. She did it. We had a coffee in the cafeteria while we waited for them to wake up. I think she left just after 3 am?"
He was tapping the table now. He needed to do something. What was it? What was he forgetting?
There was a disturbance at the door as Ron rushed in.
"Harry, they found her." He yelled as he ran over towards the table where Harry and Neville had been seated. Harry jumped to his feet, but Neville found himself rooted to the spot. He couldn't move. Something was wrong. He was supposed to be doing something. His fingers tapped their way across the table to a beat he heard only in his head.
"Wha? Where?" Harry asked quickly, his face flushed. Ron slowed now.
"Harry, they found her body." Harry sat back down, all three of them were silent for a moment before Neville stuttered out, "It's m-m-my f-f-fault. I'm s-s-so s-s-s-sorry."
"What's he on about Harry?" Ron asked quickly. Harry filled Ron in as Neville stared at the wood grain on the table. His hands shook.
Ron continued with his news after Harry had filled him in. "She was found in Knockturn Alley. They think she was probably killed by rogue death Eaters on Friday. Sometime about 4 in the morning."
Neville felt something within him shatter.
He felt strange, as if someone else was controlling his body. From a distance he watched as his hands found an old napkin and they started folding. He needed to do something. He needed to move. Fold. Turn. I'm so sorry.
Fold. Turn. Repeat. Smooth. Fold. Flip. Turn. I'm sorry.
Neville sat at his desk inside the empty room and stared at the wall while his hands danced again along the paper. Fold. Repeat. I'm sorry. Fold. Turn. Hermione i'm sorry. 9,100 to go. Fold. Repeat. I'm sorry.
"Can he see us?" Frank asked the healer as he stood in the doorway with his wife. "He doesn't seem to be listening to us."
The healer shook her head. "He can't see anything other than the paper in front of him. Maybe when he has completed them?" Her voice trailed away.
"Our boy Frank, That's our boy." Alice sobbed into his chest. Frank just held her. "After all he has been through. All he has done. To end up like this? It's not fair." She swayed against him.
Fold. Repeat. I'm so sorry Hermione. Fold. Turn. Smooth. I'm sorry.
The Longbottom's left the room. Frank glanced back at the young man before him. "If you can hear us son… we are so very proud of you."
Fold. Turn. Repeat. I'm sorry. Fold. Crinkle. I'm sorry.
THE END
Note: The original story referenced here is Sadako and the Thousand paper cranes. Unfortunately, I needed to increase the number to 10,000 so that it fit the timeline better. The book also references the fact that she died BEFORE completing the 1,000 cranes, however the real Sadako actually folded close to 1,400 before her death. Her brother has actually donated several of her "extra" cranes to sites such as the 9/11 memorial in New York, and the Pearl Harbour memorial in Hawaii. Her cranes can also be seen at the Museum of Tolerance.
Note: First draft is done. I have plans to re-write the battle scene, and I'm not sure about the Slughorn section. Any feedback is welcome.