Written for the Quidditch a league Fanfiction Competition: Round 1
Theme: Grandparent- Neville Longbottom and Augusta Longbottom
Team: Tutshill Tornados
Position: Captain.
Word Count: 1,716
Written For: Hedley Song Challenge: Villain
Off the Block Competition: Backstroke: Extra Hard
Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition: The Grinch
Disney Charatcer Competition: Eeyore
Lastly, and most definitely not the least, this one-shot is dedicated to all the members of my team, Tutshill Tornados. For Summer, Elle, Lupe, moony, The Boy, Sapphire, Anna.
I ONLY own Nanuak and Wardons.
Note: Thingamajig is word. Don't mark me down for SPaG
My name is Neville Longbottom. I fought the War against Lord Voldemort and I'm proud of my self for that. My dauntlessness and bravery never faltered, I was determined to hell and back to fight this with all my heart, so much so, that I stood up against Voldemort.
After the War, I was never teased again. A lot of people have shown me respect, showered me with love. It was so blatant and ironic, that I was forced to believe that this behaviour was only because I survived the War. I was admired and people regarded me with a lot of appreciation.
But it's not the behaviour of the other people which brought me in this state of mind. It was death. Not my death, of course. But of Augusta Longbottom's death. My grandmother, and apparently the only person who I really ever knew.
After she was killed, it affected me in ways I could've never imagined. I had asked her to stay out of it, to not risk her life. But as she was always stubborn and extremely adamant, she refused. After the War, I saw her limp body, covered in blood, lying somewhere in the rubble. I had broken down next to her, holding her and crying.
I'm distraught and my parents haven't even been affected, they're completely oblivious. Because they are deranged, and I can only feel sorry and sad when they don't recognise me.
This proves that I've really got no one. Harry Potter and his friends were nice enough to talk to me after the War. But I'm going to be realistic, it felt like the last person who could hold my hand was gone. No one to help me with my cooking, cook bacon and eggs for me or really stand beside me.
Her soul was the only real one I knew. She was tall, thin and bony. And yet, she fought with the spirit of a warrior, the strength of a lion and of course, with bravery that people had never seen. She duelled with zeal; every spell that she said, was said with passion.
She commonly wore a hat with a stuffed vulture on it and carried a bright red handbag. And now, reminiscing about her and her habits and the things that she wore, I have tears slowly rolling down my face.
It is getting cold now, and it is dark. I am walking. The lake is sparkling with sapphire and ebony ripples in the pallid glow of the autumn moon. I'm walking slowly along the shore of the lake, gazing into the water, trying to find solace in the icy depths. Thinking was like trying to swim through molasses, and coherent thought leaked away.
As I peered into the still water, my mind was blank, and it was as if I could see the pearlescent reflection of my grandmother smiling back at me, from the gleaming lake. Suddenly, there were light ripples, and like a pensieve, it enveloped me like an invisible blanket. There were memories running wildly through my head which I had no control of.
Just then, the ripples became more vigorous, and an unknown, compelling force had pushed me into the lake. The lake was cold and it chilled me to the bone, I was struggling to come up and to get some air into my lungs.
I was baffled as I didn't know what happened- why I had fallen into the lake, it was probably some unexplainable, ancient magic which pushed people into the lake, people who stared at it for a long time. And drowned them too, because the same force was dragging me downwards. My wand was useless as I couldn't use it against anything, and any spell that I tried, to blast me out of the water, had failed.
After I got pulled down, the water entered me, and I surprisingly felt sleepy. As strange as it was, to know that water was accumulating inside of me and I was feeling sleepy, I was relaxed and couldn't be bothered. Everything was becoming fuzzy and blurry. Before I knew it, I was unconscious and my sub consciousness had come alive.
O💠O
I was running across the road, trying to catch something that I saw in the distance. It was tiny and it moved quickly. As I ran faster and faster, I was so convinced that I'd catch that little thingamajig.
And just then, for my unfortunate luck, I slipped over a stone and scraped my knee. I felt a burn go through my skin as I saw blood flow out of it. The pain that was there became worse as I tried to stand up. My eyes were slowly filling with tears.
My Gran saw me near the road, crying and clutching my knee, she apparated next to me and tried to lift me up.
"Neville, you silly boy. You're seven years old, you should know better than that to chase Wardons."
I sniffed in response.
"Come on, dear. Just stand up and I'll apparate you back home," she muttered as she tried to pull me up. I grunted and stood up, putting all my weight on my I injured leg.
After I reached home. I laid down on the sofa and cried, bawling my eyes out. Gran came towards me and held my hand. "This'll only take a minute. You'll only feel a slight pinch- don't look so frightened- and you'll be good as new."
I whimpered a bit before Gran took her wand out said a spell. I could feel the skin on my wounded knee slowly grow back. I looked at her and she gave me a warm smile. I smiled back.
She then sat down next to me, and read me a story from my mother's collection of books that my mum had bought because she had once planned to read them to me herself. But I still had Gran do it.
O💠O
Gran and me were having a picnic. It was my 10th birthday, and just a year from going to Hogwarts. We visited Mum and Dad earlier today. They were pleased, although, they didn't seem to know what was going on. They never did, and the hope that they ever would was gone.
Gran had made the usual for us, shepherd's pie and sandwiches with Yoghurt for desert.
"So Neville," she started, laying down the picnic blanked and putting the basket on top of it, "what house would you like to be in?"
"Anything is fine with me. Although, I am really hoping for Gryffindor," I muttered back as I concentrated hard on the paper that I had in front of me. I was drawing a roaring lion, the symbol of Gryffindor. It was lopsided and uneven with a bit of messy lines here and there. But nevertheless, I was proud of it.
Many of the children in the vicinity laughed at it. Calling it stupid and horrible. I didn't care or at least, tried not to, since I had really wanted to be in Gryffindor and I loved to draw. But I realised that some things cannot be changed. I will never be the popular kid that everyone would admire and look up to.
"Neville, what is it that you're scribbling away so fervently?" Gran asked, putting a paper plate next to me.
"Symbol of Gryffindor," I said, with a lot of pride in my eyes.
"Mind showing me?" Gran asked kindly.
I showed her the picture of the roaring, and abnormal looking lion. And for the first time, someone smiled at the picture, and not ridiculed it. Gran smiled at the picture.
"That's wonderful, dear."
O💠O
"Snape hates me."
"Don't worry dear, I'm sure he doesn't," Gran said reassuringly to me.
I took a bite of my bacon. I had just come back from Hogwarts yesterday after my second year for the Summer. Snape had barely passed me, after giving me a warning.
"I nearly failed, Gran." I said shortly.
She didn't look too pleased about this, but didn't say anything. She only sat down next to me and said, "Neville, you're going to try again next year. Only harder, you heard me?"
I nodded, but avoided looking at her.
"Come what may, but I'm always going to be here, you understand? And even if you don't get an OWL Potions, so be it." Her voice was stern, but it had immense amount of love entwined in it. And even later, when she reprimanded me about my performance and was never happy with it, I still knew that I had her, like no one else.
O💠O
I was drenched and shot out of the water. I was gasping for air, and my lungs were trying to fill themselves up with oxygen as fast as possible. I was down there for at least half an hour, and it was a miracle that I hadn't died yet.
I was reliving the memories that I saw. It was like a pensieve, only, I was the person, but I had no control over myself. I don't know what this lake was, or what magic it held. But now that I think of it, I remember Gran telling me about a lake like this, when I was younger. I didn't believe her of course, when she said, "Neville, I hope that one day you can see through the Eyes of the Nanuak before you die. It shows the person what they want to see at that moment. But know that it only happens once in a life time."
And now I realised that I had. I saw what I had wanted to see the most, reassurance from my Grandmother. It wasn't even real, that was the sheer beauty of it even though it felt real. And I just learnt and now know that the whole concept of life was built like this. Nothing is real, even though it feels real. Life and everything with it is Maya*, an illusion. We are born to die, living only for a heartbeat of eternity, but dying every second. Nothing is really ours or even permanent, because everything will eventually fade away into darkness only to be reborn and come back to life again.
I now come to the conclusion that this lake was the Nanuak. And I had finally seen through the Eyes of the Nanuak. No wonder I had seen the pearlescent reflection of my Grandmother, no wonder that this lake practically glowed with two big stones as her eyes. They had the colour of soft grayish pink of a summer sky at dawn, mixed with the vivid purple of a setting sun. Yes, these were the Eyes of the Nanuak.
Maya* is a Sanskrit for Illusion.
O💠O