Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed. I make no money, I mean no harm.

A Suprise From Neville's Cauldron

The room was filled with small cages. More than a hundred of small eyes watched the door as it opened. Small paws moved sounding like a small waterfall. The dark figure at the door raised the wand and mumbled a short incantation. The candles all around the room lit up. The room was immediately filled with rambling as the mice started running madly in their cages.

Neville Longbottom sighed heavily and crossed the floor to the furthest corner where he kept his small laboratory - a cauldron (and one spare under the table), few phials, a mortar and a pestle, the most needed ingredients. Although he wasn't harassed any more by his beloved Professor Snape, Neville still didn't like brewing potions. Which was exactly what he was going to do now.

He had spent four days on a business trip, while his Grandmother took charge of his garden and greenhouses. It wasn't so bad; at least, no part of the garden had caught fire like the year before. But whole two beds of betony were dried, he had to throw away half of his tarragon and to his greatest disappointment, he found mould all over his beloved and cherished hyssop. He needed a potion to get rid of the mould, he needed it badly, he needed it right away...

And none of the potion shop in any reasonable distance from his home was open.

Neville approached the cauldron and spent few minutes rummaging through parchments with his notes. He found the right one, glued it to the nearest cage and absently carressed the three mice inside. He had bought five mice three years ago for some experiment with herbs, carefully picking up five female mice. Unfortunately, four of his female mice had been already pregnant, which he hadn't found out before the little ones were too old... and some of them pregnant, too. He had grown fond of his small population of mice, feeling proud of his breeding abilities and selling some of them to his uncle who bred snakes.

Checking three times on the parchment, Neville collected all ingredients for the potion, weighed them and put on the desk. He had developed this slow but effective way of brewing potions over the years. This way he managed to prepare any potion he needed... well enough for the emergency. When not in emergency, Neville bought his potions. No exclusions.

Twenty minutes later, the potion bubbled happily in Neville's cauldron while the herbalist waited for it to change colour before adding eighteen grams of grinded garlic, sharp. A strange sound startled him. Mice in the nearest cage were fighting over something. Neville realised he forgot to check the mice. These were young males who had matured while he had been away. Of course they were fighting, the cage was too small for both of them. Neville opened the cage and tried to catch them.

"Ouch!" One mouse bit his finger. Neville jumped away, waving his wounded hand. A loud SPLASH turned his attention back to the cauldron. There was something floating in his potion.

"Not good," Neville whispered in terror. He cautiously took one step to the cauldron. Odds were the cauldron would explode suddenly. Neville reached for the jar that had just emptied itself in the potion and read the label. He made a mental note to buy more salamander eyes, as the last two he had had had ruined his potion just a moment ago.

Trembling with fear, Snape's rude comments echoing again in his ears, Neville stretched his hand for his wand. Accidentally, he knocked the cauldron over.

Luckily, it was in the sink. No harm there, it just wouldn't flow off as the sink had been choked for months. Neville quickly stood the cauldron up on the desk again, cleaning it with two swift movements of his wand. He had become a master of household spells, with his Grandmother growing too old to take care of everything. Then he turned to the sink.

It was empty.

Not only empty, it was clean. Stains that had resisted every possible effort to be cleaned were gone. The bottom of the sink was glowing and shining. Neville turned the tap on and watched the water flowing off without any problem. His eyes glittered.

Hastily, Neville seized the parchment and scribbled two salamander eyes instead of garlic on the free space in the bottom.

"Unbelievable," Snape repeated, as he watched the effects of the brand new Swiftly Clean Solution he had bought in the Diagon Alley. He hadn't wanted to buy it, but he had heard it had been invented by Neville Longbottom. That had piqued his curiosity.

Snape remembered Neville Longbottom. The boy couldn't make tea, not mentioning a potion, and now he had become an inventor? Strange, suspicious and... unbelievable.

But the worst part was it worked. The solution could clean any metal within seconds. From the day the Swiftly Clean Solution had hit the market, Neville Longbottom had been the hero for all the good household wives.

"Longbottom," Snape muttered. "Neville Longbottom. Who would have said it?"