'Neville Longbottom!' An icy voice made Neville jump, causing him to spill
even more potion down his already soaking cloak. 'The potion is supposed to
go in the cauldron, you stupid boy, not down your front. I wonder why you
even waste your time in my class.' Snape sneered as he looked down at
Neville, who was now cowering behind his cauldron. 'Fifty points from
Gryffindor for Longbottoms stupidity. Fifty points, however, will go to
Slytherin for Mr Malfoys perfect shrinking potion.'
Snapes lips curled as he walked away, leaving Neville in a state of frightened shock.
Poor Neville - no one ever took him seriously any more. Everyone saw him as some sort of prop, a comic relief character if you will. Well, that was all about to change. Neville was sick of being a joke, sick of his grandmother always yelling at him to improve, sick of never earning Gryffindor any points. He had had enough.
The end of class crawled by slowly, and there was much scuffling (particularly from Neville, who wanted to get out of there before Snape could bully him further) to leave the dungeons for lunch. But as everyone else made his or her way to the Great Hall for something to eat, Neville headed straight for Gryffindor tower alone.
A quick glance around the Common Room told him that he was alone. So far so good. He crept up the stairs and into his Dormitory, though he didn't exactly know why he was creeping. He opened the trunk at the foot of his bed with much difficulty, as the lid was heavy and the hinges were rusty. Moving aside robes, cauldrons, underwear and socks, Neville found what he was looking for and smiled. He lifted out a heavy leather bound book with a shiny golden heading which read 'Powerful Spells for Self Improvement Made Easy.' His smile faded quickly, however, as the lid of his trunk came crashing down painfully on his fingers.
15 minutes and 10 very sore fingers later, Neville sat on his bed, flicking through the pages of his book. Finally, his finger stopped at the top of a likely looking page.
Sick of being a joke? Sick of your family always yelling at you to improve? It read. Sick of never earning your house any points? Have you just had enough? Then this is the spell for you. Not only designed to raise your IQ, this spell is also great for improving your potion making skills. Simply point your wand at your head, filling your mind with thoughts of intelligence, and repeat the incantation ECNG ILLE TNI WON three times.
Fingers trembling slightly, Neville did as the book had said. As he repeated the incantation, Neville filled his mind with pictures of himself stunning Snape with his potion making skills, of Hermione starring at him in awe as he bet her to answering every question asked, of him successfully transfiguring everything perfectly, and of him swinging through the trees as a monkey. Wait, no! He didn't mean to think of that!
Too late.
With a small bang, Neville was thrown backwards off his bed. He landed a few meters away in a crumpled heap on the floor. When he shook his head and sat up, however, he had a strange craving for a rather large bunch of bananas.
[ooh, chapter two coming right up.inspire me by writing beautiful reviews! By the way, yes I am fully aware of how stupid this ff is, but hey, who says stupidity cant be fun?]
Snapes lips curled as he walked away, leaving Neville in a state of frightened shock.
Poor Neville - no one ever took him seriously any more. Everyone saw him as some sort of prop, a comic relief character if you will. Well, that was all about to change. Neville was sick of being a joke, sick of his grandmother always yelling at him to improve, sick of never earning Gryffindor any points. He had had enough.
The end of class crawled by slowly, and there was much scuffling (particularly from Neville, who wanted to get out of there before Snape could bully him further) to leave the dungeons for lunch. But as everyone else made his or her way to the Great Hall for something to eat, Neville headed straight for Gryffindor tower alone.
A quick glance around the Common Room told him that he was alone. So far so good. He crept up the stairs and into his Dormitory, though he didn't exactly know why he was creeping. He opened the trunk at the foot of his bed with much difficulty, as the lid was heavy and the hinges were rusty. Moving aside robes, cauldrons, underwear and socks, Neville found what he was looking for and smiled. He lifted out a heavy leather bound book with a shiny golden heading which read 'Powerful Spells for Self Improvement Made Easy.' His smile faded quickly, however, as the lid of his trunk came crashing down painfully on his fingers.
15 minutes and 10 very sore fingers later, Neville sat on his bed, flicking through the pages of his book. Finally, his finger stopped at the top of a likely looking page.
Sick of being a joke? Sick of your family always yelling at you to improve? It read. Sick of never earning your house any points? Have you just had enough? Then this is the spell for you. Not only designed to raise your IQ, this spell is also great for improving your potion making skills. Simply point your wand at your head, filling your mind with thoughts of intelligence, and repeat the incantation ECNG ILLE TNI WON three times.
Fingers trembling slightly, Neville did as the book had said. As he repeated the incantation, Neville filled his mind with pictures of himself stunning Snape with his potion making skills, of Hermione starring at him in awe as he bet her to answering every question asked, of him successfully transfiguring everything perfectly, and of him swinging through the trees as a monkey. Wait, no! He didn't mean to think of that!
Too late.
With a small bang, Neville was thrown backwards off his bed. He landed a few meters away in a crumpled heap on the floor. When he shook his head and sat up, however, he had a strange craving for a rather large bunch of bananas.
[ooh, chapter two coming right up.inspire me by writing beautiful reviews! By the way, yes I am fully aware of how stupid this ff is, but hey, who says stupidity cant be fun?]