You're a Wizard Neville.
The predator slunk through the grass towards the small boy. Slowly it inched forward into striking distance using its green coloring to keep itself virtually invisible while its prey hummed happily at work in the garden soil, unaware of his fate as sustenance. It was in range now, ready to close the distance and strike like lightning subduing the child with its potent venom, waiting for just the right moment.
Now!
It struck out, its long sinuous appendages whipping faster than the eye could see towards the child who caught it, still humming happily, as the boy took pruning shears to its deadly vines.
Neville Longbottom was happily at work in his garden pruning the vines of his prized venomous tentacula, which he had grown himself from clippings he had been given by his Uncle Algie. The plant was so playful, always trying to nip him, not that he ever let it, the thing was poisonous after all. He imagined this was what it was like to have a pet.
His uncle had really become a large part of his life since his grandfather had died. Neville had been devastated when he had choked to death on the Christmas wine Algie had gifted him, and his Gran had taken it even worse. She never seemed to smile anymore, only ever acting strict.
Thank Merlin for uncle Algie. He played with Neville all the time now and gave him all sorts of gifts. Why, just the other day he had taken Neville down to the lake to feed the ducks. Neville somehow ended up in the water, which was weird because he didn't remember tripping, and just when he thought he was going to drown he shot up to the top of the water. Uncle Algie must have used his magic to save him, he was so upset that Neville had ended up in the water that he was still cursing when Neville waded his way to shore.
Before that his uncle had taken him to a muggle shopping center. It was amazing, Neville had never seen a muggle before, they looked so much like normal wizards. Neville had somehow gotten separated from his uncle and he had panicked a little, but just when he had started to cry he found himself back at Longbottom Manor, Algie must have given him an emergency portkey to keep him safe, he was so thoughtful.
It was so kind of him to look after Neville even though he was probably a squib. Neville's happy experience gardening was soured a little at the thought of his lack of magic. He moved over to his growing supply of dirigible plums, anther gift from Algie. The plumbs made for a delicious treat that made the eater think more clearly and come to conclusions they normally wouldn't, also they were highly poisonous if not prepared correctly. Neville thought that maybe he treated himself to the delicious snack a little too often as he was getting soft around the middle, but as he ate the plums the thought faded from his mind replaced by ideas for new better plants he could grow through crossbreeding and specially prepared magical fertilizer.
It sometimes surprised Neville that he had developed such a love of plants. He had not always enjoyed gardening and when his grandfather had first shown him the, currently out of use, greenhouses Neville had been bored. Of course, he had only been five at the time so the reaction was expected. His grandfather had told Neville stories of how the Longbottoms built their fortune on the growth and sale of magical plants, but Neville had not really been interested at the time. Then the rumors started about him possibly being a squib. How would anyone even know? The only people he interacted with were his grandparents and his aunt and uncle.
Neville had been distressed and had gone to his Grandfather crying. That was when Neville received a piece of advice that he had engraved into his soul forever.
"Neville, let me tell you the secret to success." His grandfather had said. "Find something you are good at and be the best at it." He told Neville
Neville had still been distressed.
"But if I'm a squib that means I can't do magic." Neville cried.
"Doesn't matter, you can find one thing to be the best at. All the most successful people around do the same thing. Why just look at Mr. Hagrid. I went to school with him you know, no talent at any of his classes but he loved magical creatures. That poor man had some of the worst luck of anyone I have ever met. He got kicked out of Hogwarts his wand snapped and nowhere to go and no one to turn too, but he loved magical creatures, and he became the best. No one will officially recognize his mastery, but everyone knows Hagrid is the best. He should have been stuck as a nobody relegated to dumb muscle for some dark wizard but instead he lives his life everyday doing what he loves, and everybody knows that he is the man to go to if you have a magical creatures problem. Being the best got him a job a Hogwarts where he meets every witch and wizard in Britain and all of them know Hagrid is Britain's foremost authority on magical creatures, even if some of the arrogant ones won't admit it.
Do you think anyone cares if Mr. Olivander can turn a teacup into a turtle? No, they go to him because he is the best wandmaker in Britain. Today, everybody says Dumbledore knows more magic than anybody but during the war when he made his name famous, Dumbledore was Mr. Transfiguration.
You find something you can do and devote yourself to it. I believe in you boy." His grandfather had told him with a smile.
Without magic his options were sadly limited, but that hadn't stopped Neville from trying. First, he tried reading the books in the Longbottom library, but the words were complicated, and nobody would help him figure out what they said. He did learn that astronomy, potions, and herbology all required very little magic to perform properly. He had high hopes for potions, but he had no way to practice and find out if he had any talent. Neville didn't really understand the point of astronomy, supposedly the position of the stars effected certain magics but trying to understand why and how made his head hurt. Then he had tried Herbology.
It didn't go well at first. His Gran had stuck up her nose at what she considered "Playing in the dirt." And Neville had almost given it up there and then, but his grandfather had been pleased by his sudden interest. Neville spent the next few years learning the secrets to growing magical plants with his grandfather while they played in the dirt. It had become such a large part of his life that he kept right on gardening after his Grandpa's death despite his Gran's suddenly harsher disapproval of what she considered "Childish things."
Every time he thought about quitting, his Grandfathers advice about being successful echoed through his mind. Herbology was the only thing he was good at, and he clung to it. Now Neville had no idea what to do with himself if he wasn't toiling away in the garden. His trips to visit other children dried up after that fateful Christmas and he spent most of his time alone, unless his uncle was visiting.
Like today.
Neville smiled as he listened to the buzzing noise in the house that was getting louder as the adults got further into their drinks. There was music playing and he thought he could her his Gran laughing. He smiled at the rare sound.
"Neville get in here!" came a shout from the house.
The eight-year-old boy brushed the dirt from his work robes and rushed inside the house. Inside his Gran was chatting with Mrs. Bagshot, Madam Marchbanks and his auntie Enid. His uncle was waving him over and he had the blush of intoxication on his face.
"Come here boy, do you want to be a real wizard?" He slurred.
What was he talking about?
"Of course, you know that." Neville answered with certainty.
"Then come with me boy, I got an idea." His uncle said with a smile.
Neville followed his inebriated uncle to the upstairs balcony while wondering what the man was up to. You couldn't just make someone a Wizard, you either had magic or you didn't, Right?
Quicker than he would have expected in his drunken state Algie snatched Neville up and he was dangling over the railing staring at the ground, which suddenly seemed very far away.
"We just gotta scare the magic out of you, boy, oops." Algie said.
Neville felt his uncle's fingers slip and for a moment he thought he was going to fall, but the grip came back.
"Do you want some meringue dear?" Said the voice of Aunt Enid.
They were the single most terrifying words Neville had ever heard as Algie released his grip upon h
earing them.
The ground hurtled towards Neville, who felt the world freeze in perfect clarity and one thing consumed the entirety of his thoughts.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Neville let his only thought out.
He struck the pavement and instead of becoming a pancake he ricocheted away bouncing in ever decreasing arcs until he settled to a stop far down the street.
The party guests all came flocking to fuss over him and Neville saw his Uncle staring at him slack jawed before he had his ear pulled down by his Gran and she started yelling at him.
Madam Marchbanks was the one who pulled him to the side away from the crowd and gave him a quick once over. Once satisfied that he was unharmed she gave him a tight smile.
"Well congratulations, you're a wizard Neville." She said primly.
Neville fainted.