Neville Longbottom - A Dinner to Remember

It was a cloudy and dismal day in London; but no one felt quite as dismal as Neville Longbottom. His nerves were frayed from the stress of a rapidly impending deadline. He had mere weeks to prove himself not a squib.

"Neville!"

"…..Neville! You better come down and help me prepare dinner! Algie, Enid, Molly, and Arthur will be here soon and I will not have you hiding upstairs all evening," his grandmother called from downstairs.

"Coming, Gran!" He called back, getting up. As he climbed down the stairs, his eyes were drawn to the arrangement of photos hung along the wall. All past Longbottoms.

The Longbottom's have always been a Gryffindor family; proud, brave, and daring. You have a lot to live up to little one!

He could practically hear is grandmother lecturing him. Looking at the photos, the faces of adventurers, inventors, and leaders looked back at him. Most smiled, moving only slightly in their frame. When he was younger he thought the people in the frames were the same as ghosts, and that he could speak to his actual ancestors. But this was not true. It was just magic. His real predecessors were at rest and would never see him. He would never get to ask the questions lingering in his mind. Would they be disappointed in him? Here he was, 10 years old, a Longbottom, with not a wisp of magic.

The first squib in a century!

He shook his head and continued down the stairs, trying to distance himself from that thought, the one that had been running through his mind for weeks.

BREAK

"… and then cut the onions diagonally so the flavour-"

The ring of the doorbell interrupted his grandmother's cooking lesson.

"I'll get it," he offered politely, moving to the door. A flash of orange through the window let him know instantly who had arrived.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," he greeted, opening the door.

"Hello, Neville!" said Mr. Weasley slapping him warmly on the back.

"Great to see you, Neville!" Mrs. Weasley greeted, grasping him in a signature Mrs. Weasley hug. She looked down at him, "I swear you and Ron are going to be as tall as the doorframe soon!"

She and Mr. Weasley headed toward the kitchen to greet his grandmother. He started to close the door when a gruff voice called from outside, "leave it open".

Coming up the brick laden path was his great-uncle Algie and great-aunt Enid. Algie held a slim black cane that was speckled with red, hints of his Hogwarts alliance of years past. Enid was holding a bottle, presumably wine for the dinner.

"Hi Uncle Algie and Aunt Enid, can I take your coats?" he offered immediately, returning the hug from his great-aunt.

"Not when Augusta keeps this damn house as cold as Azkaban," Algie replied gruffly, moving past him and setting his hat on the shelf. Enid rolled her eyes and continued down the hall towards the kitchen. Neville's attention returned to the disgruntled Algie.

"Where is Peg?" Algie asked, irritated.

"Umm, she passed away a couple months ago…." Neville said awkwardly, looking at his feet. Peg had not bared any children, and so unless they purchased a new house elf, would be the last of the Longbottom house elves.

"Oh," Algie said looking uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe apologise, but nothing came out. Neville swore he heard his uncle mumble "she was a good house elf," while shuffling toward the kitchen, but he couldn't be sure.

BREAK

After the last dish was dried and the adults moved to the living room, Neville attempted to retreat to his room for the night. He failed. Gesturing for him to follow, Algie began leading him upstairs to their attic.

"Come on boy, there's something for you to see" Algie said, not looking back to see if Neville was following.

It was a dark attic. Forgetful in her old age, Peg likely didn't clean this room often, and the additional months since her death hadn't helped. Algie uncovered a large window in the corner and opened it. The fresh air blew in and some dust blew out, but the room was still dim. Casting a Lumus spell, Algie pulled out a small glass jar and blew the dust off. A strange green powder was visible within.

"Augusta told me that you still have not shown your magic" his uncle commented, unscrewing the jar and removing a spoon.

"Not yet…." Neville responded shyly, "I've still got a couple weeks…." He trailed off quietly, unsure.

"Here," his uncle handed him the jar and the small spoon. "Your great-great grandmother Victoria invented this. One spoonful should activate any magic you have."

Gingerly Neville took a spoonful. As he attempted to eat the powder, he made the mistake of breathing in. Coughing up both powder and dust, he started to move to the window for fresh air. Algie hit him on his back to help him clear his lungs. Unfortunately these actions occurred at the same time. Tripping forward, Neville and the jar rapidly flew into the window, with only Algie's grip on his ankle keeping him from falling out.

"Do you feel any different?" Algie questioned, as though his great-nephew wasn't hanging out the window by his ankles. Neville continued to cough while holding the jar, the powder now covering his face. Suddenly a yell from Enid came from downstairs.

"WHO WANTS MERINGUE?"

He was only vaguely aware that he was falling. He barely registered that his landing was much lighter than expected and that the brick path underneath was badly damaged.

But he did notice that he was taller and stronger.

That he was now bright green.

And that he was very angry.

Algie had tried to kill him.

A small voice tried to argue that it was an accident. But that was tiny Neville, he was easy to silence.

"Neville, is that you?" a male voice behind him asked.

Fists forming he spun around, finding only two words.

"MIMB ANGRY!"