Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

CHAPTER 16: Meet the Longbottoms (pt 2)

AN: Possible Trigger Warning. This chapter contains scenes involving violence directed at a child. No one is actually injured, but it may be disturbing for some readers.

When Neville Longbottom was eight...

"Hello, Neville."

Neville jumped up out of his chair at the sound of Algie's voice. "Oh... Uncle Algie! I... didn't know you were here today."

"It's your birthday, Neville. Surely you didn't think I would skip it. Here, I brought you a plate of meringues." Algie took one off the platter and bit into it. "They're delicious. Your cousin Enid made them."

Neville looked at the platter of meringues for a few seconds without touching them. "Gran says I shouldn't stay in a room alone with you," he finally said in a quiet voice.

"Why not?"

"She says you may try to hurt me in order to make me use my magic."

"Yes, Neville, I very well might. Tell me, Neville. What do you think will happen if it turns out you are a squib?"

"I dunno. I guess I won't go to Hogwarts."

"That's right. Hogwarts doesn't take squibs. But that's three years from now. Three years of not knowing. Of wondering every day if you're worthy of the name Longbottom. And even if you get a letter, it might be that you have just barely enough magic to get in, but not enough to pass your OWLS. And if you fail those, you'll be judged a squib just as surely as if you'd never gotten a letter at all. That's another five years of wondering and waiting and worrying. Eight years total - that's as long as you've been alive so far. Another eight years total of looking in the mirror every day and seeing a failure. Another eight years of visiting your parents every holiday wondering if you're unworthy to be their son."

Neville didn't answer at first, but he shivered and blinked his eyes furiously at Algie's words. "Why are you saying these things?" he asked finally.

"Because your parents were great wizards and heroes to our society, and I think that if I were in your shoes, I'd rather die than embarrass them by being a worthless squib. And for that reason, I've come to make this offer. If you let me test your magic one more time, I promise it will be the last, one way or another. If you succeed and show your magic, no one will be prouder than me and I will support you with everything I have. But if you refuse me this test and are later judged a squib after dragging things out for years and years, I will hold it against you. When I am Lord Longbottom, I will expel you from the family and leave you with nothing. Whether you're eleven or sixteen, you'll be out on the street, homeless with no prospects and no education. And not just you. I'll send your grandmother packing as well. If you're not a Longbottom, then she has no further right to this house. She'll get her dowry, of course. That will be enough for a small flat in some tiny magical village and basic living expenses, I suppose. But if you take my test, whatever the result, I promise you that she'll be taken care of in the manner to which she's become accustomed."

"What if I take the test and fail?"

"Well," said Algie kindly, "at least you won't have to live with shaming your parents anymore."

Neville swallowed and looked down at the floor. He wiped at his eyes and then looked back up at the man who was supposed to watch over and protect him. "What do you want me to do?"

"It's a simple test, Neville. We're on the fourth floor of the Manor. There's a window right behind you. Just step out of the window. If magic saves you, you're a wizard. If it doesn't, you're free of guilt and shame and worry, and your Gran gets taken care of. Nothing simpler."

Neville backed away from Algie and towards the open window. Honestly, it was true what Algie had said. People had been waiting on him to show magic for so long, and it never came. He heard the whispers of his cousins and their friends – "Squib." Even at the age of eight, he'd been taught that without magic, he was a blight on the Longbottom line and a disgrace to his parents. He looked down from the window and felt dizzy for a moment. It was a long way down to the cobblestones below.

Behind him, Algie stood with bated breath. His research into squibs finally gave him this new and monstrous idea. Accidental magic usually activated when the child was afraid for his life, but it likely would not if the child knowingly and deliberately placed himself in danger, nor was it likely to manifest if the child's will to live was weak. Neville had defied Algie before, but if he voluntarily jumped out of that window, there would be no freak magical outburst to save him this time.

Neville slipped one leg over the threshold, but before he could put the other over, he looked down again and saw his grandmother in the distance, walking the grounds with one of her friends. Neville knew she thought he was a squib. He guessed that she probably thought he was an embarrassment to his parents' memory. But above all, Neville knew she loved him and that she would not want him to do this. He turned back to Algie.

"You said if I do this you'll look after Gran. Why should I believe you? If I die, no one will remember your promise."

"Neville, my boy. When have I ever lied to you?"

Neville stared at Algie as if seeing him for the very first time. Then, he felt something stir deep in the pit of his stomach, something that, three years later, a wise old hat would recognize as Gryffindor courage. "I think you're lying to me right now. I don't think you want me to show magic at all. I think you just want me to die." Then, he turned the other way and began screaming. "GRAN! GRAN! UNCLE ALGIE IS HERE! HE'S TRYING..."

"OBLIVIATE!" Neville rocked back and forth in a daze, half in and half out of the window. Algie rushed forward, grabbed him by the leg, and shoved him forward until he was dangling out the window, held aloft by nothing but Algie's tight grasp. In the distance, Augusta ran forward, screaming Neville's name while her companion followed behind. Neville shook off his momentary confusion and looked up at his uncle, who merely smiled at him.

"I do wish you would have tried at least one of Cousin Enid's meringues before it came to this. They really are quite delicious." Then, he let go.

Neville dropped like a stone. In the distance, Augusta screamed in horror, but she was too far to cast a spell. The boy looked down at the approaching cobblestone driveway and braced for the end. Instead, there was a slight shudder ... and then, he was airborne again, spinning madly through the air. He came down again some distance away and felt another shudder. This time he didn't fly so high, and the confused boy finally realized that he was ... bouncing? His third and final bounce brought him down near his grandmother who used a charm to catch him safely.

Algie watched the entire scene with a crazed grin on his face. He'd gone for broke, but the Brat survived. Even from the fourth floor, Algie could tell that Augusta was glaring up at him with a look of vicious triumph. Worse, as she and her companion drew closer, he could see that the other woman was Griselda Marchbanks, an old friend of Augusta's and an esteemed member of the Wizengamot ... and now an impartial and irreproachable witness to Neville showing accidental magic. "Naturally," Algie said, before he started giggling to himself. Still laughing, he moved back to the table and picked up a few meringues to munch on. He looked around Neville's room wildly as he chewed the confectionaries before he finally snatched up the plate and threw it against the wall.

"Alright, Brat! You may be Heir Presumptive, but I'm not done with you yet!" He took a few moments to compose himself. Then, Algie went downstairs to congratulate Neville on his tremendous feat of magic and to let Madame Marchbanks know how grateful he was that someone of her stature was on hand to serve as witness. By then, other guests had come out to see what had happened, and he took the lead in announcing that Neville had finally showed accidental magic and was now the Heir Presumptive. He doubted Augusta had bought his routine, but he didn't much care. He still had three years before Neville's Hogwarts letter came, and that meant he still had one card left to play.

When Neville Longbottom was eleven...

In the three years since Neville's "official" demonstration of magic, Algie had worked ceaselessly to reassure the boy and his grandmother that he supported Neville as Heir Presumptive, that his only concern had been about the boy's magic, and that he certainly harbored no homicidal intentions. He had showered the boy with gifts and "grandfatherly advice" and given every appearance of being a doting regent who looked forward to handing over the Longbottom estates to Neville just as soon as his OWLS came back.

The truth, of course, was that Algie was playing a waiting game. Neville's OWLS were his last chance. If the boy failed to pass at least one of his three wand-based exams – Charms, Transfiguration or DADA – Algie had grounds to petition the Wizengamot that he met the technical definition of squib even though he'd been magical enough for a Hogwarts letter. So with that in mind, Algie set himself to the task of figuring out how to ensure that Neville failed academically. The wand classes were the ones that mattered, and so the wand was where Algie focused his attention.

As Neville's eleventh birthday approached, he and Augusta corresponded about when to pick up Neville's school supplies, and Algie pointed out that, as regent, he was the one with the key to the vault, which he should really show Neville anyway. Augusta acquiesced but also asked if Algie would pick up the family Rememberall for Neville. She was worried about him going to school with so many children of Death Eaters.

When the two arrived in Diagon Alley, the boy was most eager to get his wand – he'd talked of nothing else ever since his letter came – so Algie carried him first to Ollivander's. The old man remembered Algie instantly, as well as his wand from all those years ago. Surprisingly, given Ollivander's reputation, Neville found his own wand almost immediately. This, according to the wand seller, was because he'd been supplying Longbottoms with their wands for ages, and he knew the family's preferences from experience. Neville's wand was thirteen inches and cherry, with a unicorn hair core. "Exactly like your father before you," he said.

Algie crooked an eyebrow. "Exactly? Does that mean he could use his father's own wand?" He looked down at the boy. "I mean, we can certainly afford a new wand, but it might be a way to show respect for his father if he could use Frank's old one."

Ollivander looked horrified. "Certainly not! A wand chooses the wizard, not the wizard's family. And besides, unicorn hair wands are intensely loyal. A unicorn wand that had chosen one wizard would likely never work as well for another, not even a family member. And while the father is still alive? That could even be dangerous for the boy's magic. He might as well try to shove his magic through a brick!"

"Ah! Well, never mind then," said Algie jovially, as though he had not been researching the topic of incompatible wands for three years. "We certainly wouldn't want that!"

Algie paid for the wand and then pocketed it. "You can see it when we get home, Neville. You're not supposed to use it now anyway, and I won't have you embarrassing the family with underage magic," he said to the disappointed boy. Then, he escorted Neville to Flourish & Botts, to Madame Malkin's, and eventually to Gringotts. There, he led Neville first to his trust vault, which he linked up to a moleskin pouch so that the boy would have a small weekly allowance while at school. Then, he took the boy down further to where the family vaults lay. Once inside the Longbottom family vault, he took care to point out certain interesting features and then told Neville to look around but not touch anything, as it might take him a few minutes to find the Rememberall.

In fact, he knew perfectly well that Frank's old Remembarall was not in the vault, as he'd disposed of it earlier. Instead, Algie spent those minutes at a small display case which contained the wands of dozens of deceased Longbottom scions each with a small placard denoting the name, date, and manner of the wand owner's death (or in Frank's case, incapacity). Frank's wand was near the top, and he snatched it up and compared it to Neville's. They looked nearly identical. He put Frank's wand in one pocket and Neville's in another.

"Oh, damn. The blasted thing's not here! Ah well, let's head on. I'll send the house elves to search for it at the Manor." Neville, who did not especially care about the Rememberall, was fine with that, and the two left to finish their shopping before a delightful lunch at Summerisle's, capped with a truly gigantic slice of chocolate cake with a candle on top for Neville's birthday. Then, he took the boy home and let him show off his new presents, including his wand, to Augusta. He also informed Augusta that there was no Rememberall in the vault and suggested it must be in the Manor somewhere.

Soon, September 1st had arrived, and Algie returned to Longbottom Manor bright and early. Augusta grilled him briefly about the Rememberall, but he assured her it wasn't in the vault. He even offered to swear an oath, but she told him to stop being silly and then left to see to their transportation to the rail station. Had it come down to it, Algie could have sworn an oath that there was no Rememberall in the vault because he'd already removed it. He could even swear he didn't know where it was, since he'd thrown it into the Thames and had no clue where the current would take it.

Algie headed upstairs to Neville's room, donning a pair of gloves as he went. The door was open, and Neville was inside finishing up his packing. "Neville, my boy. Have you got everything ready for Hogwarts?"

The boy jumped slightly. "Oh, you startled me, Uncle Algie! Yes, sir, I'm nearly ready." The boy was still a bit nervous around Algie and probably always would be, but he tried not to show it.

"Good, good. And you've got your wand?" Algie asked. The boy smiled and pulled it out for his uncle to see. "Excellent. And before we leave, I've got a special treat for you – a pet to keep you company at Hogwarts. His name... is Trevor." He reached into a pocket of his overcoat with a gloved hand and produced a fairly large toad wriggling furiously in his grasp.

Neville's eyes had lit up when Algie mentioned a treat, but he was less enthused by the struggling amphibian that this uncle was holding out to him. With a smile but a bit of reluctance, Neville reached out and took the slimy creature, which nearly slipped out of his grasp.

"Better use both hands until he gets used to you, Neville." The boy nodded, turned and set his wand down so that he could hold Trevor in one hand and stroke him with the other in a futile effort to calm the toad down. While he was distracted, Algie pulled out his own wand and took a deep breath before casting the strongest and most complicated Memory Charm he had used to date. More than a mere Obliviate, it also incorporated elements of a Confundus Curse. Neville's knees shook and nearly buckled, but he didn't fall. Algie reached over to take the boy's wand and hold it in front of his face.

"Listen carefully, Neville. You will forget this wand. You've never seen it before. We didn't go to Ollivander's and get you a new wand." Algie pocketed Neville's wand and then produced the one that had belonged to Frank. "This is your wand, as it was your father's before you. Your Gran insisted that you use your father's wand as a way to honor him. You made her cry for hours when you even suggested that you wanted a wand of your own, and you promised you would never ask her again. And now, you will take this wand, and use it as best you can. If it doesn't work well for you, it's because your magic is weak and you'll just have to try harder. In fact, you will push yourself until it hurts if that's what it takes to get magic out of this wand. Nod, if you understand." Neville nodded in a daze.

"You will also want to keep Trevor with you at all times. If you lose him, you will be very upset until you get him back. You will want to hold him whenever possible." Trevor was a late addition to Algie's scheme – the toad was from a South American species that was mildly poisonous. Not enough to make Neville sick – well, not unless he decided to lick the thing – but long term exposure would interfere with both the boy's memory and magic. The whole scheme was a desperate gamble, but it only had to work for five years, less if the boy got so frustrated he flunked out of Hogwarts ... or killed himself by trying to force his magic through an incompatible wand.

"Finally, you will forget everything your grandmother ever mentioned about Rememberalls. It's a useless thing to help stupid forgetful boys remember what they've forgotten. Don't pay it any mind." That last command was an afterthought, just in case Neville somehow came across someone else's Rememberall at school, as unlikely as that seemed. His work done, Algie stepped back and put his wand away. After a few seconds, Neville blinked a few times and looked up at Algie. "I'm sorry, Uncle... What were we talking about?"

"About how you'll be writing to me every week, Neville, to let me know how you're doing." Algie smiled. "I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward hearing about all your successes."

When Neville Longbottom was eleven... and three months...

They came just before dawn. Algie was sound asleep, curled up on the left side of his bed (after all these years, he still left Wendy's side untouched), when Lubby, his chief house elf, woke him with a few gentle coughs.

"Begging master's pardon, sir, but there be three aurors at the door who wish to speak with you. They says they has warrant for your arrest. Something to do with young master Neville."

"Oh. I see. Naturally," said Algie in a tight voice. "Well, tell them I'll be down just as soon as I get dressed."

Lubby nodded and disappeared with a pop. Algie rubbed his eyes and picked his wand up off the bedside table. Idly, he wondered why the Aurors were being so considerate as to send a house elf to retrieve him instead of kicking down door. Then, with a thought, he reached out to feel the status of his wards. Ah! The defensive wards were all down, and in their place were anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards. Also, the Floo connection was inactive. They could afford to politely wait because they knew he wasn't going anywhere. And, he supposed, they had chosen to wait in hopes that he would save them all a lot of paperwork by doing "The Honorable Thing."

Algie closed his eyes and slowly lifted the wand to his temple. Then, he tried to summon enough hate to use the Killing Curse on himself. But for all the attempted murders he'd made over the last nine years, he didn't really have any hatred for Neville or anyone else, just a pitiful selfish jealousy mixed with a bitter self-loathing, neither of which was enough to fuel the Killing Curse. When the Aurors finally got tired of waiting and came for him, they found Algernon Longbottom still in bed, in a fetal position, weeping like a child.

The next update will be posted between 4 and 6 pm on June 5, 2015.