Magic

by Lily White

"When I was young, I thought that stars were made for wishing on"...a songfic about Neville, his happy memories and tragedies both. Showing that magic is not just spells and potions, it's the strength to live each day and the beauty all around us. Price o

Hi everyone! This story is about Neville during different stages during his life, to the tune of "Magic", an old Girl Scout campfire song. I think it's cute…PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!

***Magic***

*When I was young, I thought that stars were made for wishing on.

And every hole inside a tree would hide a leprechaun.

Houses all had secret rooms, if you could find the key.

I do believe in magic, I believe…*

Neville Longbottom stared out of his window at the stars in the night sky, his pudgy seven year old face drawn into a smile. Great Uncle Algie had come for dinner tonight. He'd brought Neville a present, a toy broomstick. Neville had seen many children, a lot of them younger than he was, riding them in their backyards. Of course, his Gran had never let him anywhere near one. She had taken it from Neville, snatched it right out of his hands. Great Uncle Algie had pitched a fit, yelling himself hoarse about how Gran never trusted the boy, never let him have any fun. There was a great row, which Neville enjoyed. He had known he would not be able to keep the broomstick, so he was not disappointed when Gran finally won and threw the toy into the garbage.

            He remembered once in a toyshop, when he was five. He'd spotted one of the coveted broomsticks on a high shelf. Seeing as his Gran was all the way at the other end of the huge store, checking on the price of Non-Explodable Exploding Snap cards, he thought he might just try it out. Neville was a lethal little five year old. He grabbed a stack of beach buckets, the kind that little children build sand castles with on the beach, and turned the stack upside down. He stepped onto the top of his wobbly stack, perched precariously three feet above the floor. He reached up his little hand, trying to reach the toy. He stretched as far as he could, and finally, when he thought his arm could not go any farther, he felt his hand brush hard wood. He clasped the broomstick in his fat fist, taking it down from the shelf. As he was stepping off the pile of buckets, his foot slipped, causing him to fall backwards onto his bottom. The stack of buckets went flying all over, making a tremendous racket. Neville started to screw up his face, tears forming in his bright eyes. His bottom hurt, and he had a very low threshold of pain, being only five years old. But then, he remembered the toy broomstick, tossed aside when he fell. He hurriedly wiped his tears away and grabbed the toy, a smile playing on his lips. He had done it!

            Neville straddled the toy broom and took off. He was only a few feet off the ground, but it was still an incredible feeling, flying through the air. He closed his eyes and, gripping the broom tightly between his knees, spread his arms. He felt like an eagle, soaring through the air majestically, powerfully. He was just circling a frost-capped mountain peak populated only by scarce shrubs and the occasional scrawny tree, when he was brought with a shock back to Earth. He had collided with a large display of Exploding Snap cards, and mind you, these were the type that did explode, the kind his Gran wouldn't let him anywhere near. He was thrown backwards onto his already-sore bottom from the power of the explosion. It sounded as if a huge bomb had gone off, right in the middle of the card and board games section of the toy store. People came running to see what had happened, and were treated to the sight of Neville sitting on the floor, his hands clenched over his bottom, positively howling with pain and anger. His Gran pushed her way to the front of the crowd, and swooped down on Neville, taking him into her arms and comforting him. She held him calmly, stroking his hair, as she walked to the register and paid for the damage. She winced when she saw the total amount, but paid it without hesitation. By the time they got home, Neville had stopped crying and was calmly sucking his thumb, his head resting on his Gran's shoulder. He was amazed that he was not in trouble, but was too sleepy to question it. Gran laid him onto his bed and tucked him in, kissing him on the forehead before leaving the room. As she closed the door behind her, she whispered under her breath "He looks so much like you, Frank. So much…"

            But Neville never heard that.

*Magic is the sun that makes a rainbow out of rain.

And magic keeps the dream alive to try and try again.

Magic is the love that stays when good friends have to leave.

I do believe in magic, I believe…*

            The day that Neville got his acceptance letter from Hogwarts was the happiest day of his life. He remembered every detail of that day, as if it were yesterday…

            It had been raining when he awoke from a deep sleep. The sky was a dark, forbidding gray, and water cascaded in sheets over his windows, giving the impression that the whole house was under water. Neville had changed out of his pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt before heading downstairs to join his Gran for breakfast. They ate in silence, too groggy to bother with chitchat and small talk about the weather, which was very violent and wet. After he finished washing the dishes, Neville went upstairs to his room. Great Uncle Algie was coming over today, and that always made Gran very tense. For hours before he arrived, she would be putting around the house, cleaning and snapping at anything that moved. It was best to stay out of her way on days when Great Uncle Algie visited.

            Neville passed a few hours in his room, reading comic books. He wasn't hard to entertain. At around 11:30, a great booming knock came from the front door. Neville bolted down the stairs, almost knocking Gran over as he made a beeline for the door. He flung it open to reveal Great Uncle Algie, sopping wet with a huge grin on his face, holding up a thick envelope addressed in emerald green. Neville snatched the letter out of his uncle's hands and ran back into the house, shouting "Gran! It came!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. Gran invited Great Uncle Algie, forgotten on the front stoop, inside and they rushed to the living room, where Neville was trying unsuccessfully to open his letter. Gran used a tricky little penknife charm, and the letter fell from its envelope onto the floor. Neville snatched up the top piece of parchment and started to read aloud. "Dear Mr. Neville Longbottom. You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry…" His voice trailed off; he was too happy to speak. Great Uncle Algie danced a kind of jig and Gran let out a loud whoop before swooping down on Neville in a tight embrace.

            Two weeks later, Great Uncle Algie took him to Diagon Alley to buy his school supplies. Gran was home in bed with the flu.

            After leaving Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore, and Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Neville's uncle steered him towards the Magical Menagerie. There, he bought Neville his toad, as a congratulatory present. Neville was so happy.

            Hogwarts was going to be something new and exciting for Neville, who had basically stuck to the same day-to-day routine all his life. He had visions of himself being the best in every class, of learning how to become a great and powerful wizard. These daydreams were not to be realized any time soon, though….

*When I was young, the grownups said that I was soon to find

Magic was a childhood dream I'd have to leave behind

Like clothes that would no longer fit, and toys I would ignore.

I don't believe in magic anymore…*

           

            Neville walked out of the library, his arms laden down with books. He had a four-foot long essay to do on the goblin rebellions of 1735, and it was due in two days. It was amazing just how much work the teachers had managed to pile on the first years. He would have thought they'd go easy, but no.

            As Neville walked up the deserted hallway toward Gryffindor tower, he saw Draco Malfoy ahead. Uh oh…this will only end badly…he thought to himself. Draco Malfoy was in Slytherin, and was probably the biggest bully Neville had ever known. He was almost as bad as Snape, almost being the operative word.

            "Hey Longbottom!" Draco called maliciously. Not good not good not good not good…Neville thought. "Come here for a second. I need to talk to you," said Draco, gesturing with his hands for Neville to hurry up. Sticking out of Draco's back pocket was a wand. Not good not good not good not good not good.... thought Neville as he walked slowly towards the pale boy, stumbling under the weight of the books he was carrying.

            "Yes, D-D-Draco?" he asked, his eyes glancing wildly around hoping to spot a teacher, or Mrs. Norris, or anyone. He was still clutching the pile of books to his chest.

            "Do you remember that Leg-Locker curse Flitwick showed us in class a few days ago?" asked Draco in a dangerously quiet voice. By now, Neville was kicking himself for having left his wand in Gryffindor Tower.

            "Y-y-yes. Why do you ask?" Neville replied.

            "Well, I've been looking for someone to practice on, and you seem the perfect guinea pig, so MEMBRUM PINGERE!" Draco shouted the last words, his wand taken skillfully out of his pocket without the other boy noticing, now pointed straight at Neville.

            Neville immediately felt a sharp pain in his legs, as if they were on fire. Then, they were fusing together. The agony came in waves, washing over him while Draco laughed his head off. Finally, the pain was gone, but Neville's legs were locked firmly together and he could not get up. He had fallen to the floor when Draco put the curse on him, scattering his books everywhere.

            "Looks like I've got the hang of it, Longbottom. You were ever so much help," Draco managed to say through his laughter. He then walked away, leaving Neville sprawled on the ground.

            Neville struggled for ten minutes, finally hauling himself up off the floor. He left his books, thinking absently of hiking to the very top of Gryffindor Tower and hurling himself off the edge. He bunny-hopped all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady, panting and sweating. He murmured the password ("divinitas") and climbed with difficulty through the portrait hole, stumbling into the Gryffindor common room. The first person he saw as he lay there on the floor, breathing heavily from the exertion, was Harry Potter. Smart, famous, athletic Harry Potter. Probably the last person on Earth you wanted to meet while sprawled on the ground, sweating bullets, with your legs locked together. Oh well.... What's one more humiliation? Neville thought to himself as he waited for the taunts and insults surely to come.

*Magic is the sun that makes a rainbow out of rain.

And magic keeps the dream alive to try and try again.

Magic is the love that stays when good friends have to leave.

I do believe in magic, I believe...*

Sure enough, the Gryffindor common room erupted into thunderous laughter as Neville made his entrance. Neville closed his eyes, trying to block out everyone and everything. Please God. Make it stop…Just stop the whole world. I want off! he thought as he lay on his back.

He heard someone rushing over to him and opened his eyes. It was Hermione, who he barely knew. She muttered something under her breath, and Neville's legs sprang apart.

"Th-thanks," he mumbled, eyes on the floor. All around him, the laughter continued.

"No problem," replied Hermione, smiling at him. "Come on; let's go sit down, okay?" Neville nodded.

She led him to where Harry and Ron were sitting, all the while ignoring the snorts and giggles of their classmates. "What happened?"  she asked as they took their seats.

"Malfoy," said Neville, both his voice and his body trembling. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on." He looked up to see their reactions to the news, expecting grins and fake sympathy. What he saw was anger and indignation. At him? Neville was confused.

"Go to Professor McGonagall! Report him!" said Hermione, vehemence dripping from her every word. They weren't angry with Neville…it was Malfoy! Neville was so relieved he let out a sigh. But he shook his head at Hermione's suggestion, knowing that Malfoy would waste no time with revenge if Neville reported him.

"I don't want any more trouble," he said, his voice sounding small and far away even to his own ears.

Ron jumped up in indignation, his eyes blazing. He pointed a finger at Neville and started speaking harshly. "You've got to stand up to him, Neville! He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier." Ron sat back down, his freckly face flushed with anger. He thinks I don't know that? I do know, there's just not one thing I can do about it! Neville thought, his eyes still glued to the floor.

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," he said, choking on his words.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," came a new voice. Neville looked up and saw Harry Potter. What did he just say? He cannot be serious thought Neville as he locked his gaze on Harry. This was Harry Potter! The boy who could do know wrong, the famous kid with the famous scar. Comforting him? It did not make sense. Shouldn't Harry be walking all over him, just like Malfoy? "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin," said Harry. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate frog, handing it to Neville.

Neville smiled weakly as he peeled back the foil on the frog.

"Thanks, Harry…I think I'll go to bed….D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?" Neville asked as he eased himself out of his seat. He handed the card to Harry and turned to walk up the boys' staircase.

Maybe I was wrong about him…And maybe I am worth twelve of Malfoy…or at least a few Neville thought as he dozed off into a deep sleep.

*Now that I'm all grown up, much to my surprise

Magic did not fade away, it took a new disguise

The strength to laugh, the love to live, the courage to stand tall

I do believe in magic after all…*

           

            "And as you go on, into your new lives, we wish you well. We hope that we have given you but what knowledge you need to succeed in this world of ours, and that we have adequately prepared you for the future to come. You have called Hogwarts your home for seven years. It seems to me more like seven days. Each year, the sun rises to reveal a brand new adventure. Then, as you leave, the sun sets, and you go away armed with knowledge. Today is the day before you leave for good, never to return. I have enjoyed watching you grow, watching you learn. I will be saddened to see you go," said Professor Dumbledore, his somber voice magically magnified to fill the whole of the immense Great Hall.

            There was only one long table sitting in the center of the huge room, covered with a shimmering gold cloth. The teachers sat at the top, with all of the seventh years sitting on either side. Houses didn't matter, at least not for today. Today was graduation day, a time for sad goodbyes and final farewells.

            Neville sat between Hermione and Seamus, beaming with pride and happiness. It had always been his secret fear that he wouldn't graduate, that he would be kicked out because of his abysmal grades and frequent accidents. But he was here.

            As Neville looked back on his seven years at Hogwarts, he payed no attention to the torture inflicted upon him by Snape, or the time Malfoy prominently displayed his knickers on the top of one of the Quidditch goal posts. No, what he remembered was praise from Professor Sprout and good times with his friends.

            He had even stopped obsessing over his parents, locked up in St. Mungo's. He had accepted long ago that they were not his parents anymore, and never would be. They were just bodies, lumps of flesh. He liked to think that his real parents were up in Heaven, looking down on him, corny as that sounds.

            Neville would be leaving tomorrow, boarding the Hogwarts Express for the last time ever. It was a sad thought. He ate in silence, preferring to watch the drama ensuing around him rather than take part. There was Harry, talking quietly with Professor Dumledore. There were Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, locked in a tight embrace. Tears splashed down the faces of his classmates.

            Suddenly, Neville felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Professor Sprout.

            "Hello Professor," he said, wistfulness in his voice. Professor Sprout had been his very favorite teacher.

            "Hello Neville. I don't know if you've heard, but I will be retiring this year," she said.

            "No! But why? You're the best teacher here!" Neville gasped in indignation

            "I am old, and have taught here for thirty four long years. I wish to spend more time with my family; I want to get to know my grandchildren," Proffessor Sprout replied, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. "It is for the best. But, I do have good news. I have talked with Proffessor Dumbledore, and we have agreed that, if you want it, there will be a place here at Hogwarts for you. We would like you to become the new Herbology Professor."

            "What? I don't…I don't understand," said Neville. "I haven't had any formal training in teaching!"

            "It would be difficult, yes. But, you could take classes during the summer to prepare for next year. You could live here, and I'm sure the other teachers would be happy to show you the ropes. Well, what do you say?"

            Neville didn't say anything. He simply lept out of his chair and embraced his teacher, grinning.

            "I'll take that as a yes."

*Magic is the sun that makes a rainbow out of rain,

And magic keeps the dream alive to try and try again.

Magic is the love that stays when good friends have to leave.

I do believe in magic, I believe….*

*Yes I do believe in magic, I believe…..*

Well, I hope you liked my lil story here. Now, it's your turn to do some writing. Do you see that little box down there? Yes? Good. Now just type a little review in it and click 'Submit'. It would make me soooo happy….*Plz?*