A/N: Thanks to the reviewers, and people who added this to their favourites or alerts. It makes writing this story so much more enjoyable to know that people are actually reading it.
Usual disclaimer - I am not JK Rowling, I'm just playing with her toys.
The next day marked the start of a new month, and Neville decided that he should go to see Mrs Arrans. He desperately needed some questions answered.
Searching the house from top to bottom, he finally found her scrubbing in the utility room.
"Neville! What can I do for you, my love?"
He shuffled his feet nervously, sweating hands twisted together behind his back.
"I was wondering if I could talk to you? Alone?"
The tall woman stood and laid the scrubbing brush down on the sideboard. "Of course you can," she nodded, pulling off her yellow gloves and untying her flowered apron.
She led the way down the hall and into her office once again.
Neville sat on the same seat he had been sitting on yesterday when Dumbledore intruded and took him away.
"So, you had a nice day with Professor Dumbledore yesterday, did you?"
Neville nodded earnestly. "Oh yes. He explained everything, all about my mum and dad and how they joined to fight against Vold-"
"Don't say his name, child! Lord, did Dumbledore not already tell you that? Just because he feels secure enough to say the name, we don't all feel that way."
"Sorry, I think he did say that most people were still afraid to hear the name. What should I call him then?"
"Call him You-Know-Who. And try not to talk about him too much, it tends to make people jittery."
He nodded again. "So You-Know-Who. My parents joined the fight against him, but they were killed by him one night, and somehow I survived but they don't know why that is."
It was Mrs Arrans' turn to nod. "Strange thing, my love. Nobody knows why it happened and why he singled out your parents."
"Yes. But he said that the bad dream I have, it might be my parents last moments. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."
"Indeed? Well, go ahead then."
"Mrs Arrans, do you think you could explain to me why you gave me my mother's ring? I mean, I forgot to ask Professor Dumbledore yesterday. And what does 'await your owl' mean?"
Mrs Arrans smiled, "Ah, owl post. I forgot all about that. It's how wizards communicate, we send letters and the owls deliver them. Most owls are very intelligent, and even if you don't put an address onto the envelope, the owl will know where to deliver it to."
Neville nodded. "And my mother's ring?"
She sighed and leaned back into her seat. "It was left in my possession before your mother died. I was a very close friend of hers, but I decided it would be safer to hide in the Muggle world than to risk trying to hide in the wizarding world. So I bought this house with the gold my mother had left in her will, and I did a complicated charm to hide away. I made Alice my Secret Keeper, and only she knew where my house was, so people could only visit if she told them I was living here. Alice was a dear friend to me. After she died, you were left onto my doorstep. Dumbledore knew I was living here of course, and he felt it was best to leave you with someone who knew about the wizarding world to help guide you into it. Afterwards, I started up the orphanage to help other children who had been abandoned or orphaned. But you were my first child Neville, and you remind me so much of Alice. I promised her if anything ever happened that I would take care of you, you know.
"The ring was just an heirloom. Alice wanted it out of the house in case You-Know-Who found them, and took it. She said it would be dangerous to let it fall into the wrong hands, but there's nothing special about it. It's just a pretty piece of jewellery, nothing more, nothing less."
Neville sat quietly for a few minutes pondering all this.
"Did you want to ask something else, dear?"
He shook his head, and rose from the seat. At the door he turned back to her to say thanks, and realised that her eyes were filled with tears. He rushed back to hug her.
"You take care of yourself at Hogwarts, Neville. And make sure that you come back during the summer holiday. And Christmas, if you would like."
"Thank you. For everything you've ever done for me. I'll take care of myself and I'll write to you every week."
She smiled through her tears and ruffled his hair. "Now off you go."
He left the office.
--
The rest of August passed in a blur. Neville had a calendar that he kept pinned to the wall above his bed, and he crossed each day off before he went to bed, the excitement bubbling in his stomach.
The 1st of September dawned. It was a bright, crisp and dry day. Neville was in the attic at 7.15am checking through the old trunk he had found up there.
The trunk had once belonged to Mrs Arrans and now help all of Neville's school supplies; a pewter cauldron, several sets of robes, a winter cloak, a pointed hat, protective gloves, Potions supplies, set of brass scales, crystal phials, a collapsible telescope and all his textbooks, quills and parchment. Everything was there, but he had a few more things to add before he closed the lid of the trunk. First to go in was his new wand. Neville carefully laid it down on top of his cloak, admiring the effect of the cherry wood against the black fabric. He thought back to his day in Diagon Alley with Lily Potter, to when he had bought his wand.
They entered a small shop; it was very old, the peeling painted sign proclaiming Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. Behind the counter was a frail old man with white hair and extremely pale eyes.
"Lily Evans, weren't you just in here with your son a few days ago? His wand is working, isn't it?"
Lily chuckled. "Yes, of course it is, Mr Ollivander. I'm here as a favour to Dumbledore. Neville is looking for a wand today."
"Bless me, is that Neville Longbottom?"
Neville looked at his feet and nodded his head.
"My dear boy, such an honour. I remember your mother and father in buying their first wands, it seems as if it were only yesterday. Such a pity, the poor devils." He looked at the boy with his large pale eyes, seeming not to blink, and stare right into the child's eyes.
Neville took a sudden dislike to the old man.
"Well, well. Shall we try out some wands then? I need to take your measurements and don't forget - the wand chooses the wizard!" the old man gestured fondly to the large stacks of boxes behind him.
After what felt like an eternity of waving around strips of wood and feeling nothing other than ridiculous, Neville was handed one more wand.
"Cherry with unicorn hair, ten and a half inches, nice and supple. Try it."
He took the wand in his right hand, and he knew straight away that this was the wand for him. His arm started to tingle, and he felt an urge to raise it to the sky. This he did before swinging the wand down in an arc and sending a shower of gold sparkles flowing from the tip.
Lily applauded, Mr Ollivander smiled. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Longbottom."
Neville looked at his wand. It was definitely his, after all, it had chosen him. He liked the wand and couldn't wait to start using it.
Finally, the last thing could be placed into his trunk. He pulled the small box containing his mother's ring from his pocket and laid it carefully beside the wand.
Now, he was ready for the start of his new life.
