Neville would be the first to admit that he didn't know too much. In fact, he would volunteer this information when he was younger, hoping that the teachers would take pity on him. This often didn't work, and more than once it had earned him a stern but kindly lecture from Professor McGonagall about his self-worth, but it used to seem that that was all he could do.

However, if he did know something about a subject, he set out to find out everything he could about it. Obviously, the realm of knowledge he was most infatuated with dealt with plants. It had started with Herbology, a class that sparked his interest like no other. Desperate to know more, he quickly began learning about all types of plants, both magical and non-magical. He was surprised to find that many of the plants used in potions were simple non-magical flora. Neville found it bitterly ironic that he excelled in producing potions ingredients, but, in the words of one distressed tablemate – "utter bollocks" when it came to mixing them together in a big pot.

But even that wouldn't sate his thirst. He soon found himself spending every free hour reading, which didn't exactly help other people's views of him, but Neville was completely engrossed in a world that he not only understood, but could master. He soon studied everything that had to with plants – animals that ate plants, muggle uses of plants, the sun and water that fed plants, and most importantly, the soil that housed them.

One of the things about soil that fascinated Neville most was the same thing that fascinated all young children – when you mix it with water, it becomes mud. Neville relished the very idea of mud – how something so staunch, earthy, and rigid could be completely transformed by mere water into a substance that is flexible, moldable, and completely unique.

However, even with all this relevant knowledge, all Neville could concentrate on was that he was going to die very soon. For some reason, even though he was sopping wet, and there was water all around him, the solid soil below him seemed like an unavoidable end to his life. Maybe it was because he was hurtling through the air at high speeds towards that selfsame solid soil, in which case he can probably be forgiven.

But nevertheless, the very first thought that came to Neville's mind as he hit the ground with a resounding splat was not Of course! The first equation all children learn – water plus dirt equals mud! It was not I'm sure glad that all that water overflowed, and it wasn't even I wonder what all this soft brown stuff is? No, what Neville thought was That's odd. I'm surprised I even heard the splat of my body. Heck, I'm surprised I'm still thinking this. And this. And this.

Neville's train of thought would have continued on like this for some time if the mud that had saved his life hadn't tried to end it. Neville was still a little confused from the jumble of senses that was the last few seconds, but he did know that something was covering him, making him unable to breathe. And Neville enjoyed breathing. A lot. He flailed about, all thoughts of magic erased as sheer primal terror washed over him, along with the mud. The brown gunk clogged his mouth and nose, and his clothes became fastened to him, squeezing out what little air he had left.

Suddenly, though, Neville had more air than he needed, as he found himself propelled through it. He somehow managed to tuck his body into a ball, protecting his wand, before slamming into back into the ground, and this time it was not nearly as forgiving. The impact forced the mud from his lungs, and he went sprawling, he wand skidding away. Neville lay where he was for a few moments, relishing the act of inhaling oxygen, and then quickly scrambled to his feet to retrieve his wand. Fortunately, it had not been harmed, outside of being covered in mud.

Neville tried to wipe his wand off on his shirt, but his clothes were so caked in mud that he thought he might have soiled his wand even more – if that was possible. Sighing, Neville struggled out of his shirts, and found that his capacity for movement had been greatly increased. Had he not turned around at that moment, Neville might have taken a moment to reflect on his physique, and how it had changed from a slightly pudgy and doughy appearances, to a well-toned set of muscles, his chest firm and his back tanned, from long hours spent hunched over a plot of soil with a trowel in one hand and a wand in another.

However, he did turn around, and he gulped at what he saw. The giant ground squirrel he had seen just before he fell had apparently taken the dive as well, and its entire lower body and tail was covered in mud. However, its head was relatively clean, and it peered around, angry and bewildered. It soon sighted Neville, whose bare torso was like a beacon in the field of browns and mute greens. The ground squirrel charged at Neville, who stood his ground, aimed his wand at the giant rodent, and cried, "Stupefy!"

With a blast of red light, Neville was hurled backwards, grimacing as he skidded across the dry grass. Dazed, he tried to stand up, but found that movement was almost impossible. He could move his head a bit, and sort of wiggle his fingers, but he was stuck, lying flat on his back. He realized that he had not actually cleaned his wand before defending himself, and that the spell must have rebounded off of the thick layer of mud surrounding the wand. Fortunately, the mud had all been blasted off, but as the bounding ground squirrel came into view, that fact was small comfort to Neville.

He blinked multiple times in an attempt to clear his head, and tried to move as many of his limbs as possible, but he couldn't even curl his fingers around his wand, much less aim it. The rodent was ground-shakingly close now, and Neville shut his eyes, expecting, not for the first time that morning, to die. He had had many opportunities in his life to die, and he couldn't help but feel a bit cheated that his death would ultimately be being crushed by an over-grown prairie dog. Neville spent what he believed would be his last moments alive coming up with a little backstory about how the monstrous vermin was somehow actually a Death Eater, so he would feel a little better about it.

Two minutes later, Neville was wiping rodent saliva off of his face with one hand, and holding onto the scruff of the animal's neck with the other, his wand tightly clenched between his teeth. As soon as he could actually open his eyes, he carefully transferred his wand to his left hand, and wrapped his legs around the ground squirrel's side. The animal had not been intent on killing him, but had merely been confused. In fact, Neville felt some strange affinity with the creature, as he zoomed along the outstretched plains. However, if he craned his neck, he could still see the ominous tower of onyx glass, reminding him that he was still trapped in this place.

Up ahead, a thin shimmering green wall appeared. Neville looked to see if there was a way around it, but it stretched on for as far as he could see. Also, while the rodent he was riding seemed friendly enough, Neville had no idea how he could maneuver it, and it seemed intent on relentlessly charging forward. At the last moment, he threw himself off of the ground squirrel, and watched in amazement as it disappeared. As soon as its head touched the translucent green wall, the entire beast vanished. Neville got to his feet and cautiously approached the wall, peering through it, hoping to see the ground squirrel on the other side, but while he could see some low hills beyond the wall, there was no sign of any animal life.

Neville stopped down and grabbed a handful of grass and soil, quickly fashioning it into a dirt clod. He then lobbed the clod towards the wall, and was surprised when it sailed through without being impeded at all. Inching towards it, Neville couldn't help but feel like he'd something like it before. He wasn't sure why, but the shimmering translucence of the wall seemed oddly familiar. Shakily, he reached out his left index finger, and cautiously poked the wall.

His finger met no resistance, and did not disappear, much to Neville's relief. He also realized that the wall was incredibly thin, and was more like a very rigid curtain or veil than a wall. Neville took a deep breath and steeled his resolve, and quickly walked into the wall, shutting his eyes as he did so. He kept walking a few paces and stopped, surprised that nothing had happened. Neville opened his eyes to find that the wall had entirely disappeared – before turning around and feeling quite stupid. The wall was still there, he had just walked right through it without noticing at all.

But if nothing happened to me, what happened to the ground squirrel? thought Neville has he walked between rows of undulating hills. The hills had started out being nothing more than little patches of land that were bulging slightly, and even now they were barely 10 feet tall, but Neville felt apprehensive nonetheless, and quickly walked in between them. As he walked, he heard a faint rattling from either side, and he sped up his pace. The rattling increased in volume, and so did Neville's speed, as he sped on, keeping his head facing firmly forward. The hills were growing higher and higher, and also angling towards each other, creating a v-shape, and funneling Neville towards a small opening.

The rattling was now almost deafening, and Neville was now running towards the end of the hills. Light was streaming in from the narrowing gap between the two rows of hills, and the light was so bright that he couldn't see what was beyond the gap, but it had to be better than whatever was behind him. Neville chanced a glance behind him, and what he saw so startled him that he stumbled and fell down, landing on his back with his hands supporting himself, in a crabwalk-like fashion. An army the likes of which Neville had never seen was rushing towards him.

The army was surprising, not because of its size – there were at most twenty members – but because of what its constituents were. Giant radishes were chasing towards him, with hideous gaping maws filled with gnashing teeth. They ran on short little wooden stumps that had lots of tiny little holes in them, and waved large frilled metal disc-like hands together, producing the rattling sound that Neville had heard. The sight was so strange to Neville that he couldn't even get up. He scurried backwards with his hands and feet as the army of radishes came ever closer. They were just about to converge upon him when the ground dropped out from under him, and Neville was falling through a bright blinding light. He twisted around to see what had happened to the radishes, but he could not see out of the field of white he was falling through. However, a new sound had replaced the rattling, and before his body slammed into a finely woven Oriental carpet, Neville had time to wonder Why are those radishes mooing?

A/N: I'm so sorry about the long wait between chapters! The next one will come along a lot quicker, I promise. The next chapter is going to be a lot easier and a lot more fun for me to write. Also, as for the green wall and the radish monsters, with a bit of research you could probably figure it out, but all will be made crystal clear eventually. Oh, and we're about half-way done with this arc – I never intended for it to be this long, and I promise we'll get to the Apparation Test and Hogwarts soon enough! And yes, I intend to keep Neville shirtless for at least a couple more chapters.