What Once Was Lost
By Miss Jo
Interlude- The Final Battle
Usual disclaimers apply. I own nothing. Ms. Rowling owns the HP universe.
Voldemort's downfall had been his own fault.
One common mistake that befalls almost all great leaders is the gradual conviction that they have all of their enemies in their sight. They dismiss the quiet and the downtrodden as insignificant, believing that they have complete control of those persons who never fight back. That was Voldemort's big mistake.
Voldemort had his most obvious enemies in his line of vision: the legendary Albus Dumbledore, Harry –the Boy Who –Lived-Potter, poor but proud Ron Weasley and the muggleborn Hermione Granger. Mad Eye Moody was also a potential threat. Nobody however, looked at the one pureblooded wizard who would be the unsung hero the light had been looking for, the avenging angel that signaled the end of the Death Eaters. No one had counted on… Neville Longbottom.
By all accounts, Neville Longbottom was barely getting by at Hogwarts. Dismal at transfiguration and a virtual danger in Potions, no one ever assumed that the only offspring of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom would ever amount to anything in the wizarding world. Rumors of botched memory charms and exposure to Unforgivables in childhood had been the most common explanation of why a boy born into such a powerfully magical family would be virtually a Squib.
In fact, it was only the fact that Neville showed any aptitude at all at Herbology that his grandmother Longbottom had allowed him to take a job at Gorgon's Exotic Plants and Herbs. The war was raging and she preferred to keep her only grandchild at home. Neville had been insistent however, and Mrs. Longbottom had given her consent. Holding a tersely worded letter to the proprietress Ivy Gorgon, Neville stepped into his grandmother's fireplace and flooed to Ireland.
The room he fell into as he hastily wiped ash from his cloak was like nothing he had ever seen. He was in what he would eventually call the Poseidon room. A huge statue of the sea god holding his trident was in the middle of the room, and huge ponds of sea plants floated serenely in each corner. Standing behind the counter were three of the ugliest women Neville had ever seen, arguing about the cost of sending messengers with shipments or just sending them by owl post. The women were short and squat, had snakes for hair and eyes that were birdlike. The taller of the sisters looked up at Neville and smiled, showing fang like teeth. Neville noticed that her snakes were all wearing bright pink shower caps.
"Good morning. You must be Neville Longbottom. Professor Sprout speaks very highly of you." Her snakes seemed to nod their heads in agreement. "Wait just one second, and I'll show you around." The other two snake haired women were gathering up various parchments and murmuring. Neville watched as they picked up well- worn brooms, mounted them and whizzed out of the greenhouse cackling as they went.
"My name is Ivy Gorgon", she said shaking Neville's hand. Neville was trying very hard to be professional, but his eyes kept straying to the shower capped snakes. Ivy patted her head affectionately. "They are having a deep conditioning treatment right now, their scales were looking a little dry", she said by way of explanation. Neville just nodded, unsure of what to say.
The greenhouses were extensive, and Neville found himself growing fond of the plants and herbs he cared for. Many were very difficult to grow, requiring exact watering and fertilizing. Part of his duties included arial flyovers of the fields. Neville was a poor flyer, but with Ivy's coaxing he managed to stay on the broom while in flight. He was certainly not graceful, but he could handle himself. Away from the constant arguing he lived with whilst with his Gran, Neville started to gain more confidence. Hours of hard labor had pared away much of his baby fat, giving just a hint of the muscle underneath. Interacting with the customers helped him to build his social skills, although he was not ashamed to admit that he hid in the back room when Professor Snape came to inspect an order for Hogwarts. Ivy noticed Neville's quick departure, but did not remark on it until that night at dinner.
Ivy and Neville were sitting at the dinner table, silent except for the snakes in Ivy's hair, which were sneezing and blinking to clear their watery eyes when someone arrived at the door. Neville looked up just in time to see a woman with a paisley headscarf dismount her broom and walk in the house. She was tall and thin, with a hooked nose and eyes the color of onyx. Neville went pale and tried to stand up, but Ivy clamped a taloned hand over Neville's wrist and he was forced to sit back down.
"Hello, Ariana", Ivy said cheerfully when the woman entered. Neville was looking down, trying to avoid those eyes that were so much like Professor Snape's. Ariana returned the greeting and hissed a hello to the snakes, causing Neville's head to shoot up in surprise. Ariana turned her searching eyes onto Neville.
"You must be Neville Longbottom, then?", she said. "My name is Ariana Snape." Neville squeaked a hello and once again tried to leave, but Ivy's grip was like steel.
"You're a Parselmouth", he said as the woman approached the snakes with an eyedropper. She didn't look at him, but answered in the affirmative. The snakes were still sneezing, but opened their mouths obediently as Ariana put two drops of a blue fluid into each serpent's mouth. The fluid was making them sleepy and they hung limply after receiving their dose.
"Honestly, Ivy", Ariana said in exasperation. "Of all things to be wrong your hair, you have to have snakes with pollen allergies". The snakes were all snoring quietly as she pocketed the eyedropper and sat down. Ivy went to fetch tea as Ariana looked at Neville appraisingly.
"So Neville", Ariana said by way of conversation. "Ivy tells me that you go to Hogwarts". Neville nodded. "Does Severus teach there still?" Another nod. "Do you like his classes?" Neville looked down at the table.
"I'm not very good at potions", he said quietly.
"I don't understand why", Ariana said. "Potions involve using what you've grown in the greenhouses. Ivy tells me that you make the mandrake fertilizer. That is not the easiest thing to make." She looked at him. "You probably just lack confidence. Most of what is difficult about potion making is that you have to be really precise."
"I just get so nervous, and then I do something wrong".
Ivy sat down with the teapot. " Severus is probably acting like the git he is." What you need is more practice. Then when you get nervous, you can still cut properly no matter how nervous you get because it will be second nature."
"Or you can just work on your confidence. Then no matter what happens, he won't intimidate you." Ariana sighed. "I love my brother, but sometimes Severus just acts like he is the only person in the world who matters."
Ivy leaned forward. "I heard that he is playing double agent". Ariana snorted and leaned forward as well.
" He's going to get himself killed. If you've heard about it, then others will have as well. Voldemort needs to die, and soon. Dumbledore wants to just defend, not take the offensive. It's a terribly moral position, but if Voldemort keeps picking off people one by one, there won't be anyone left to defend. Or to fight, for that matter." The women both nodded, and then looked around uncomfortably. The subject then changed to to other subjects.
The next few weeks passed quickly. In addition to his normal duties, Ariana came over daily with various items to be chopped, minced and diced. Despite her attempts to hover over and intimidate him, he was soon able to complete basic cuts to her approval. When evening came, Ivy would help Neville with different relaxation techniques, helping him focus his energy. They would sometimes lie on the ground feeling the earth energy pulse through the soil. It came to the point where lying in the freshly turned earth relaxed him more than anything else, the smell of freshly cut grass filling the air as the butterflies floated along on puffs of air.
When the time came for Neville to leave for Hogwarts, Ivy took him to Diagon Alley to get his new schoolbooks. People gave them a wide berth, once it became apparent that the black clumps on her head were not hair. For the first time, Neville felt as though he belonged in the wizarding world as he waved and said hello to various customers.
Neville's final year at Hogwarts started without incident. His had earned muscles were hidden under the voluminous robes that were part of the uniform. He was somewhat more thoughtful than usual, and there was a moment during his first Potions lecture of the year when he minced the dandelion stems to Professor Snape's satisfaction on the first try. The professor scrutinized each piece, and finding nothing negative to say, swooped off to terrorize someone else. Other than that, things were pretty much normal.
Neville had been at Hogwarts for four weeks when his parents were murdered.
As the war gathered strength, Voldemorts terror campaign picked up as well. Apparently under the Imperio curse, the Longbottoms had snuck off the long- term unit in St Mungo's and out of the hospital. Once they were free, several Death Eaters kidnapped them and tortured them. The next morning, the Longbottom's heads were displayed on pikes outside the Ministry of Magic. It was a warning to young Aurors about the risk of defying the Dark Lord.
After the funeral, Neville Longbottom stood alone at the Cliffs of Moher. As he looked out at the deep blue water he was stricken with grief. For one desperate moment he wanted nothing more than to jump, to feel that one blissful moment of flight before plummeting to earth and joining his parents. Then through the grief, came the anger.
A wisp of fury seemed to curl up from the earth, winding itself around Neville's body until it settled in his spine. A feeling of conviction lurched in his belly and he stood bolt upright. His normally patient and kind blue eyes sparked with righteous anger. Voldemort wanted to play hardball? Fine. Neville turned away from the cliffs and made his way down the long and winding path to the bottom. Ivy Gorgon was waiting for him, leaning on her knobbled walking stick. She watched him silently mount his broomstick and fly unsteadily away, before doing the same herself.
The answer to a problem is often so simple once it comes to light, yet has stumped many for lifetimes until it is finally discovered, often in the most mundane of ways. The answer to Neville's problem came as he was pruning a row of shrubs nicknamed "Henry Lauder's Walking Stick", a homage to the knobbly kneed wizard who used limbs from the gnarled shrub to straighten out his stride.(of course most muggles have no idea where the name came from). He was at Gorgon's, trimming them while Ivy looked on. It had been almost a month since the funeral, and Neville had turned inward so deeply that Ivy had made a habit of sending for him on weekends to make sure he ate and bathed.
"You know, Nicholas Flamel's wand was made from this wood", Ivy said conversationally as she picked up a limb. Old Ollivander wanted to sell him an ash wand, but Flamel held firm. This species of tree has been growing for a millennia and Flamel felt it could help him channel the old magics. The old elemental magics were pivotal to helping him create the Sorcerer's Stone."
"Elemental magic?" Neville asked as he pushed his hair off of his sweaty brow. He leaned against the tree and jumped back as he felt the energy course up and down the trunk.
"Felt that did you? Yes, that shrub was hit by lightning a few years back, it is filled with elemental magic. Magic is at its core from nature. You kids think that magic comes from your wand, or knocking three times as you turn in a circle and mumble in Old Latin. All that nonsense focuses your energy, and shows your intention." She lifted her hand in the air and Neville's pruning clippers flew into her hand. "You have seen Ariana and I use natural, wandless magic many times. It has to do with your connection to the elements. Elemental magic is timeless. It doesn't pass judgement, it is what it is. Very few wizards even know about elemental magic, because it requires devotion. It grows from your connection with it. Every time you fertilize a flower or plant a tree, you put some of your energy and magic into it. The earth recognizes it, and the plant grows from a combination of it's own energy and the magic you continue to give as you nurture it. Voldemort never understood that, he always wanted things the fastest and easiest way possible."
"You know You- Know- Who?"
"Voldemort, Neville. Behind all the fear and the curses, he is just a man. People always forget that, and it gives him power. He becomes like a demon in their eyes." She sat on a stump and lit her pipe. "Well, I can see you aren't going to leave me alone until I tell you the whole thing. Yes, I went to school with Tom Riddle. We were both in Slytherin, but he was a year older than me. Always very interested in hexes and curses, but we all were in those days. It was all about amassing power and influencing others. Tom was a genius, there is no doubt about it. He ruled Slytherin the last two years he was there."
"But?"
"But", Ivy said looking at Neville as she took another draw on her pipe, "is that magic does not exist in a vacuum. Life is about balance. If you keep taking from nature and don't give back, things go out of balance. From what I understand, Voldemort has built quite a debt, what with his transformations and the unicorn blood drinking. Voldemort is mocking the natural world, but at his peril. The magic will demand its payment once an opening presents itself."
Neville swallowed hard. Could it be this easy? " So, if someone unleashed the natural magic to allow it to demand payment?"
Ivy smiled, her fangs flashing. "Voldemort would be in very, very big trouble".
Neville went back to his pruning, deep in thought. He missed the calculated look on Ivy Gorgon's face as she pushed the wheelbarrow filled with branches back to the barn. Voldemort had always left Ivy's family out of his wars. Gorgons were ancient creatures, and he had always felt it best to not risk their wrath. Unwittingly, Voldemort had made this war very personal to Ivy Gorgon by coming after Neville's family. Ivy now chosen a side in this battle, and she played to win. Voldemort would never know what hit him.
When Neville returned to Hogwarts, he became more withdrawn than before. He ignored his friends, spending hours either in the library or tending to the small cemetery tucked away in a corner away from the castle. He would work silently, planting flowers and pulling weeds. Sometimes he would talk to his parents as he worked. His family's graves were in Ireland, but sometimes it was as though he could feel them sitting on the worn gravestones at Hogwarts, listening. He told them about how lost he felt without them , even though for many years they were just a shell of their normal selves. He talked about how pointless school felt to him now, and that he wished sometimes he could just drop out and go work for Ivy full time. As he dug into the earth with his trowel, his tears sometimes mixed with the soil as it was turned as he talked about how Edie MacNair, a Slytherin student, had laughed as she told him that her father was responsible for his parent's deaths. She had taunted him that his powers were so diminished that Neville couldn't do anything to protect them. Neville had acted without thinking, hexing her. He had been given detention with Professor Snape for the incident, but the potions master had been uncharacteristically quiet during the four hours Neville scrubbed cauldrons; he just watched Neville with those dark eyes, sneering if Neville dared to look up.
Professor Snape was a further tax on Neville's already frayed nerves. During the past few weeks, the potions master had been particularly short tempered, in one particularly difficult class giving five detentions and taking away fifty points before the class was finally over. For seven years he lived in terror of the man, but now he just felt indifference. No matter how much the man raged at Neville in class, the numb feeling in Neville's belly kept growing until he just stopped getting up for class altogether. Everything was pointless now, really. His worst fear had been realized, his parents were dead and nothing else really mattered anymore. Idly, he wondered what he would see if he faced a boggart now. Would it be just a great black void?
Two Fridays after the hexing incident, Ivy Gorgon showed up at Hogwarts with a cloaked woman in tow. Students in the Great Hall whispered amongst themselves as to the two people's identity as they made their way to the Head Table. Professor Snape had sneered at Ivy, but when the cloaked woman raised her head to look at him, he shot up from the table in surprise and went pale. As the two women walked away with Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall beside them, the hood on the woman's cloak slipped slightly as she glanced toward Neville. He caught a glimpse of paisley headscarf before the cloak was readjusted. Ariana. Neville looked at her for a moment, then took her outstretched hand and allowed her to lead himout of the room as well. As he walked through the door, he was sure that he could feel Professor Snape's eyes boring into his back.
Later that evening Neville listened as Harry and Ron talked as the three changed into their pajamas. Apparently, Harry had received news that Nagini was sick, and that Dumbledore felt the final battle would come sooner than previously thought. Current thinking was that it would happen before Christmas, and Harry was terrified. Apparently, Voldemort had been weakened by being unable to drink Nagini's milk, but was still determined to rule the wizarding world and get the last of the Potter bloodline out of his hair for good. Dumbledore had told Harry that they had a weapon that would help insure victory, but the headmaster was unable to discuss what it was.
Neville silently lay in bed, his mind spinning. He knew exactly what was going on, and what the weapon was. It had all been explained to Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall earlier that evening when Ivy and Ariana met with them in the headmaster's office. Neville had been in the meeting at Ivy and Ariana's request, sitting in a squashy armchair and trying not to laugh at Ivy's snakes. They were wearing tiny brown pith helmets today, and particularly active, letting Neville scratch their chins while Ivy sat and smoked her pipe. Ariana did most of the talking.
Nagini was not sick, she had been poisoned. Tired of waiting for Dumbledore to make a move, Ivy and Ariana had come up with the idea of mixing hallucinogenic herbs in with the normal assortment of herbs and vegetables in the delivery for Nagini. Hallucinogens are particularly toxic to serpents, as they have limited ways to metabolize and excrete the toxin. Nagini had already bitten two high ranking Death Eaters and killed them with her venom. Even Voldemort was afraid to get near the snake now, as she was paranoid and attempting to bite anything that came near her.
Dumbledore had been furious that the two women had acted on their own, but conceded that it gave them an unprecedented opportunity. It was now late October , and Halloween was coming. Voldemort would be getting weaker and would have to strike before he was fully prepared, likely on Halloween night.
Ariana's ritual would form a shield around the Death Eaters cutting them off from doing further harm. There would need to be four sentries, one at each corner representing each of the elements. They would act as a barrier for where the magic could spread. Standing a quarter mile apart, they would raise a shield that wands and other magical attempts at harm would be useless against. As one of the sentries, Professor Snape would be safe from retribution when his true loyalties were revealed.
In general, Ariana could care less about the wizarding world. Her life was so isolated and separate from regular wizarding life that it would change little, regardless of the outcome of the war. Her brother, though, was at increasing risk of exposure and death from his spying activities. It was only a matter of time before he was discovered. Voldemort would kill him for treason.
"There is something else," Ariana said quietly. "Something that will end this war for good. I can't tell you what it is, though. You probably wouldn't understand it if I tried to explain". Professor McGonagall started to speak, but Ariana held up a hand to silence her. "I will unleash the weapon at the appropriate moment. When the shields are raised, you must have all of your people outside of it. Including famous Harry Potter. The Gorgons will help me." Dumbledore protested. "But the prophecy!"
Ariana rolled her eyes. "Relax, Albus. Harry will still be the wizarding world's hero. His connection with Voldemort will kill him if he is inside the shield when the weapon opens." Mc Gonagall grabbed the headmaster's hand, and he nodded in agreement with Ariana's plan, looking grave.
Dumbledore turned and looked at Ivy closely. She was still puffing on her pipe, listening. Her snakes were drooping from the warmth of the fireplace, and were fighting to stay awake, their pith helmets askew or already fallen off..
"You are in agreement with all of this Ivy?" The woman shrugged.
"So, what do you get out of all of this? It's not like you to be involved in politics. Voldemort has always left you and your family alone." Dumbledore pressed, his spectacles glinted from the reflected firelight. The snake haired woman stood and patted the headmaster on the shoulder.
"Relax, old man. I have a little present for Voldemort. You know that we Gorgons have always been fond of justice. My sisters and I want him to be judged as he has judged others."
"And how exactly do you plan to do that? You can't resurrect the dead!"
"Not their bodies, no. But as you no doubt know, the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead are thin on Halloween." Dumbledore had no reply.
Ariana pulled her cloak over her head again, and after warning Dumbledore not to tell Professor Snape about anything other than his role in raising the shields. "You will need Severus and three others. Two need to be female, and they have to be strong enough to handle an energy field, and young enough not to die in the effort."
Professor McGonagall looked at Neville. "Why is he here? I don't see his part in this." Ariana grabbed Neville by his pajama top and pushed him gently out the door in reply. He saw them out the door, then went back to the common room to study.
October 30th came quickly. The four selected to be sentries, now referred to in Order of the Phoenix meetings as "The Chosen" had been planning. Their job would require absolute focus, and the two students spent a great deal of time working on their meditation and energy conservation skills. Susan Bones and Hermione Granger were more distracted in classes than usual as the day approached. Other students were feeling more apprehensive as well. Fights were becoming more common in the halls, as well as in the common rooms. Everyone seemed to be on tenterhooks, waiting for something to happen. Everyone that is, except one.
Neville Longbottom knelt in the cemetery weeding and planting as usual. "I may die tomorrow", he said quietly to the wind. "I don't want to, but I can help stop the killing. Ariana says that the final battle will likely be here near the cemetery, because it can be reached by water or broomstick. I hate the thought of all of you being disturbed." He added a little fertilizer to the patch of wild myrtle he had been coaxing to life for the past two months. "I'm just so tired. I feel like nothing matters anymore. Voldemort may die tomorrow, but someone will eventually be there to take his place. Then it starts all over. My parents are gone, and I feel so alone. At least when I die I'll get to see them again." He saw a tiny snake curled up in a patch of sun, and moved, so as not to startle it. He lay down between two graves, and looked up at the clouds. Eventually, he fell asleep.
Voices were coming! Neville awoke with a start and hid between a gravestone and the myrtle bush. He looked up and saw about fifty students dressed in black robes head to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. As they reached the forest, they mounted brooms, and flew away. Going to meet up with the Death Eaters, Neville thought. As soon as the last one was out of sight, Neville jumped up and ran to see the headmaster. It was time.
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. The next part will be the actual battle. I hope to post it tonight.