It was quiet. Moonlight and starlight decorated the grass outside the
window, an owl hooted into the night. A cool breeze fluttered in through
the window, carrying whispers from far away to the ears of a nineteen year
old boy, standing in a cottage somewhere in England. Curtains ruffled in
the breeze, and the boy's hair blew softly away from his face. A solitary
tear slid down his face. He wiped it away on the back of his left hand. In
his right he tightly gripped a bubblegum wrapper. With a gulp, Neville
Longbottom opened his closet. Another tear followed the first as he stared
at the wall of his closet. Rows of bubblegum wrappers were precisely stuck
to the wall, so that from the ceiling to a foot from the floor, no wall was
visible. He sighed, and flattened the wrapper. Then he took out his wand
and muttered a simple spell, one of the few he could do. The bit of waxed
paper stuck to the wall, in perfect alignment with the one before it. There
seemed to be millions. However, there were not. This was the four
thousandth, seven hundred, and sixty-third fifth wrapper decorating his
closet, if you wanted to count. But Neville didn't have to count anymore.
Not after this long.
"I wish you could see me now mum."
Neville turned from his closet and went to the window. Another tear. The drapes fluttered, and the wind seemed to speak, mutters of a far and distant world. Neville almost smiled, remembering the events of this year. He had been one of Harry Potters closest friends ever since their fifth year, and he finally wasn't last in the class. He had gotten an 'exceeds expectations' in Potions, an 'outstanding' in Herbology, and at least 'acceptable' in everything else, most higher. The only thing he had failed was Divination, which he had expected. He had helped Harry and his friends to escape Voldemort again this year, had punched Malfoy in the nose, and had managed to get a girlfriend. He wasn't weak and brainless Neville anymore. People cared that he existed, he wasn't alone, he had friends. But even though he told his mother and father this, they could never understand, could never be proud of him. And he felt alone.
"I'll miss you mum."
The healers at Saint Mungo's had told him that his mother would die soon, from deterioration of the mind, liver, and kidneys. He had just lost his Gram, and his father was dying too. He really would be alone soon.
"I promise I'll do him in for what he did to you mum."
Neville knew how his parents had gotten like this. Everyone knew. Voldemort. And Neville would be there to help kill him, if he couldn't kill him himself, because of a damned prophecy. But he would make sure he got his revenge for a parentless childhood. He knew he would.
"I love you mum."
Neville sighed, and crawled into his bed. Pulling up he covers, his last thought before he fell asleep was,
"Don't die without me mum."
And Neville fell asleep.
At precisely 4:26 a.m. Neville Longbottom awoke in a cold sweat and
immediately Apparated directly to St Mungo's Hospital for the Magical Maladies and Injuries. Upon his arrival to the fourth floor spell damage
ward, was informed that Frank Longbottom had just passed away. Moments
later, Alice Longbottom died in the arms of her son.
"I'm going after him. I swear he'll die."
"At 6:47 p.m. Voldemort was defeated. No one was witness to his defeat, and the only evidence of his murder was a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper found covered in ash. If anyone has any information concerning this unnamed hero, please contact Arthur Weasly, Minister of Magic." The Daily Prophet
"I wish you could see me now mum."
Neville turned from his closet and went to the window. Another tear. The drapes fluttered, and the wind seemed to speak, mutters of a far and distant world. Neville almost smiled, remembering the events of this year. He had been one of Harry Potters closest friends ever since their fifth year, and he finally wasn't last in the class. He had gotten an 'exceeds expectations' in Potions, an 'outstanding' in Herbology, and at least 'acceptable' in everything else, most higher. The only thing he had failed was Divination, which he had expected. He had helped Harry and his friends to escape Voldemort again this year, had punched Malfoy in the nose, and had managed to get a girlfriend. He wasn't weak and brainless Neville anymore. People cared that he existed, he wasn't alone, he had friends. But even though he told his mother and father this, they could never understand, could never be proud of him. And he felt alone.
"I'll miss you mum."
The healers at Saint Mungo's had told him that his mother would die soon, from deterioration of the mind, liver, and kidneys. He had just lost his Gram, and his father was dying too. He really would be alone soon.
"I promise I'll do him in for what he did to you mum."
Neville knew how his parents had gotten like this. Everyone knew. Voldemort. And Neville would be there to help kill him, if he couldn't kill him himself, because of a damned prophecy. But he would make sure he got his revenge for a parentless childhood. He knew he would.
"I love you mum."
Neville sighed, and crawled into his bed. Pulling up he covers, his last thought before he fell asleep was,
"Don't die without me mum."
And Neville fell asleep.
At precisely 4:26 a.m. Neville Longbottom awoke in a cold sweat and
immediately Apparated directly to St Mungo's Hospital for the Magical Maladies and Injuries. Upon his arrival to the fourth floor spell damage
ward, was informed that Frank Longbottom had just passed away. Moments
later, Alice Longbottom died in the arms of her son.
"I'm going after him. I swear he'll die."
"At 6:47 p.m. Voldemort was defeated. No one was witness to his defeat, and the only evidence of his murder was a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper found covered in ash. If anyone has any information concerning this unnamed hero, please contact Arthur Weasly, Minister of Magic." The Daily Prophet