Since I can't get much truly accurate information on how the Wizengamot works, I think I'm just going to stick with what is generally used in fanfictions here. Most positions are hereditary, a few are elected, and some are filled with certain elected officials. Someone can have multiple votes. For example, Amelia Bones (if she were still alive) would have two votes: one for her position as the head of the DMLE and the other for her position as head of the House of Bones. This is a short one, but the next chapter will definitely be longer.
Neville kept his hand firmly on the pocket, desperately trying to keep it shut. If his toad, Trevor, managed to escape, then he would be in so much trouble it hurt to think about it. Gran would scream at him for hours on end, and he'd have to write stupid essays about how important respect and polite manners were. Not to mention Gran would return Trevor to the pet shop, or worse, simply kill him and use him as potions ingredients. Neville shuddered.
"…and this is my grandson, Neville, Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom." Neville nervously turned to face the girl in front of him. She had long blonde hair that she brushed behind her ears every so often and pretty blue eyes that seemed to be laughing at him. Like him, she was an Heir of a Noble and Most Ancient House, which meant that one day she would be voting on the laws of the Wizengamot. He bowed, not wanting to embarrass himself by going through the whole procedure of kneeling and kissing a girl's hand, which was absolutely disgusting. His grandmother sent him a disapproving look, but he knew that he would mess up far worse before this was over and therefore a small difference in etiquette would go unnoticed.
The Greengrass Heir, Daphne, curtsied back, and Neville wished that he could be talking to her younger sister Astoria, who was so sweet that Neville forgot to be nervous around her. This entire formal meeting felt ridiculous, and Neville knew that his parents would never make him do something like this. They didn't care about Noble and Most Ancient Houses, or money, or manners other than "please" and "thank you", and they certainly would never be forcing Neville to go to a five-hour long dinner party for influential purebloods.
At least he was going to Hogwarts after all. Great Uncle Algie had been so pleased when Neville had gotten his letter that Neville now had a brand-new toad named Trevor despite his grandmother's wishes. This whole thing would be a whole lot more bearable if Neville could just take Trevor out and play with him, but apparently that wasn't polite. Also on the list of non-polite things were eating too much, not eating enough, eating the wrong foods, eating at the wrong time, not talking enough, talking too much, and breathing too loudly. (The fact that it was a sigh, not just a loud breath, did not escape Neville, but he did so love to pretend that he had been told off merely for breathing. After all, a sigh was simply exhaling loudly.)
Neville had been looking forwards to seeing Astoria, but she was too sick to come. He'd only met her twice before – once with his parents while they were negotiating for funding during the war (they'd failed), and once last year when his grandmother decided it would be a good idea to have him meet with the Bones Heir and the Greengrass Heir and Astoria had come instead to represent the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass.
Neville suddenly realized that everyone was staring at him. He must have zoned out and not heard a question. "She asked which House you are hoping for." Gran hissed.
"Oh, er…" It wasn't that Neville hadn't thought about it, but he wasn't sure what he actually wanted to be in – as long as it wasn't Ravenclaw. He could even stand Slytherin, since at least there he wouldn't have to answer a riddle to get into the dorms. "I think I want to be in Gryffindor like my parent. Or Hufflepuff, I suppose."
"So you are not considering Slytherin, then?" Asked Lord Greengrass. Neville shook his head. Lord Greengrass looked rather pleased, since that would be one less cunning Lord to fight in the Wizengamot. "Well, I do hope that you choose not to carry on your family's legacy of…consorting with lesser beings." Neville wanted more than anything to leave this conversation, or better yet to shout at Lord Greengrass and his idiotic blood-purist ways. His parents, like the Potters and Prewetts, were progressive purebloods – the type that taught how everyone was equal and that dark magic was bad, not the type that wanted to kill Muggleborns and conquer the world.
"I believe that it is not quite a good idea to offend the legacy of an Heir so early on in the day." Gran told the Lord, raising an eyebrow. Neville wanted to laugh, but that would ruin the effect. "We had best be going now – plenty of people to meet."
"Very well." Gran lead Neville away from the Greengrasses, and he nearly sighed before he remembered the prohibition on it.
"Neville!" Susan Bones nearly shouted, running – no, quickly walking, since running was definitely not allowed – over to him. "Nice to see you!" She then wilted under Gran's disapproving stare and curtsied to Neville. This time, simply bowing was actually correct, since he already knew Susan well.
"Are your adoptive siblings here with you?" Neville asked.
"Siblings, and yes. Ron is by the food with Fred and George, but Percy is mingling with the other guests. Ginny's at home, though." Susan explained.
"Fred and George are by the food? This is going to be –"
"They'll behave. They understand the importance of this gathering – especially for Mum, now that she's taken the Prewett seat. Percy'll get that, but Ginny's likely to end up with Weasley, you know, once Muriel goes."
"Really?" Neville asked. "I could understand the Twin Terrors refusing the seat, but Ron? He's likely to take it."
"Nah." Susan said. "He's probably gonna end up taking it for a week, finding it boring, and then quitting. Ginny'll end up with it for sure."
"Not you, though?" Neville asked. Susan shrugged.
"I have Bones, and the Weasleys generally spread inheritance 'round, not just to the eldest. Even if it was offered to me, I'd never take it. Be nice to have Ginny at work with me. Of course, if she does end up doing Quidditch, I'll end up with it anyway. 'less one of my siblings marries someone who'll take the seat." Susan explained.
"I see." Neville said. He didn't see.
"Come along, Neville. There is still the Nott heir to meet." Neville waved goodbye to Susan as he was pulled along towards another influential pureblood.
The next day, Neville was incredibly surprised that he had made it through the party with minimal scolding. He woke up excited, because he was finally going to get his wand.
After arriving in the Floo at The Leaky Cauldron, Neville lead the way to Ollivanders while Gran fussed with something in her purse. He knew these streets by heart, and somehow they felt even more like home than his Gran's cold, pristine mansion. That was too perfect. Diagon Alley was flawed, true, but that made it even better. Even more home.
The bell ringed quietly as Neville entered the wand shop wearing his best robes. Mr. Ollivander was sitting at his desk, writing what looked like a letter. "Ahh, Mr. Longbottom. Good afternoon," he said in his soft voice.
"Good afternoon." Neville replied politely.
"Yes, yes, and good afternoon Lady Longbottom," said the man quietly. "It is good to see you again." Then he paused and began again, rather abruptly. "Elm. Unicorn hair. Fourteen and a quarter inches. Rigid. Sold on January 23rd, 1982 – quite like your previous one, in fact, nearly identical, and that is not something I say lightly. You keep it in good condition, I trust?"
"The very best. But we are here for Neville's wand. I would recommend trying a laurel with dragon heart string – he aspires to be just like his father, you know."
"What one aspires to be and what one is are two very different things." Mr. Ollivander explained. "I believe that it is I who is the wandmaker here, not you. Now, Mr. Longbottom, which House would you like to be in at Hogwarts?"
"Gryffindor, I suppose, but I know that's unlikely. I'll likely end up in Hufflepuff. I'd never be a Slytherin or Ravenclaw, though."
"Very well." Mr. Ollivander said, searching through his piles of boxes until he found a wand that seemed to emit a faint glow, not unlike Gran's wand. It had miniscule runes carved around the base and tip and there was a sphere of wood at the base along with a second sphere to close off the handle. "Maple – and unicorn hair, unusual combination. Thirteen inches. Unyeilding." It was snatched out of Neville's hand the moment he picked it up.
"No, no, no, most definitely not – here, why not? Poplar and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter inches, quite whippy." This was a light brown wood, nearly white, with a darker knot near the base of the wand that prevented the handle from bending too much. It was finely sanded and felt incredibly smooth. Runes and designs were nowhere to be seen. Neville waved it, and nothing happened. "Perhaps not, perhaps not." Mr. Ollivander muttered, whisking the wand away.
"Pear wood and – hmm, dragon heartstring." Mr. Ollivander announced, placing a handsome wand in Neville's hands, it was carved with large runes and had a little pattern of swirls etched into it. He liked the look of it, but it caused boxes from all over the room to shoot out of their shelves with a loud crack! He immediately began to apologize. "No matter, Mr. Longbottom, no matter at all. Well, you are certainly not a squib as you fear, not at all."
"How did you –" Neville asked, astonished. He cut himself off when he realized that no, Mr. Ollivander had not read his mind; it was common knowledge that the Longbottom Heir was nearly a squib.
"Ahh, Larch, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps." He continued to mutter as he searched the shelves for the next wand. Finally, he brought out the box and handed the wand encased within to Neville. "Larch and unicorn hair. Twelve inches and a little bit over. Reasonably supple." Neville's hand fit comfortably into the simple handle of warm wood, and he could not-see the magic traveling up through the wand, bursting, bursting out, wanting to sing –
to sing forth into the air –
of the dusty wand shop –
and clear the dust, and the dirt, and the grime –
away, away! –
away it goes, to who-knows-where –
and everything is clear –
and warm –
and bright –
so bright –
too bright –
the light wanes –
slowly, slowly, slowly –
cautious, slipping away from the wand –
leaving the room –
and the wandmaker –
and the stunned grandmother –
and the boy with the magic –
who holds the light.
Neville smiled like he had never smiled before. The binding had filled him with the elation and un-suppressible joy of the magic pouring forth from his wand, filling the room with light and clearing away the dust and the darkness from every corner of the room. And when the light finally receded, everything seemed brighter now, as if a veil was lifted from the world and he could finally see clearly. Nearly everything seemed to glow just slightly, like the wand from before. His wand glowed too, and Mr. Ollivander's eyes emitted a fluctuating silver light that appeared to be both there and not there at the same time.
"Bravo, bravo, Mr. Longbottom. This is your wand, use it well. Larch wands show a hidden talent – never doubt yourself." He whispered the last part. "Use it well, Mr. Longbottom, use it well."
They left shortly after paying for the wand, Neville thanking Mr. Ollivander enthusiastically. He had a wand. He really was a wizard, not a squib. And he was going to use that wand to do good. Mr. Ollivander seemed to think he was talented. Neville wasn't so sure, but he certainly hoped he was.
So sure, he had to go study stupid pureblood manners when he got home, and sure, he was super bored, but that would change soon. In a few short weeks, Neville would be off to Hogwarts to learn magic with his new wand. And, though he was sure he would lose all certainty later, right now he felt like he was on top of the world and no one could stop him. Neville was going to find his parents, no matter what the cost.
Please, please, please give me input on the Houses. I've written the Sorting already, and I'll be writing the next chapter now, which depends on their Houses. Thank you for the review, cloakable! And thank you to all the people who have followed and favorited this story!
