The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 6 / Finals 1
Position: Captain
Team: Kenmare Kestrels
Prompt - Multiverse (changes in the past cause an entirely new timeline to be created)
The beginning of this fanfiction starts out as a AU, as in the time frame it took to find the basilisk was much longer and it had more... drastic differences. Please enjoy!
Un-beta'd.
Neville Longbottom had never been a brave little kid ever since he was old enough to walk. Loud noises made him cry, shadows made him cringe under his bedsheets, and under the stern woman he had lived with for most of his life — Neville could safely say that he always felt like the walls were closing in on him.
Which is why, he had doubts about sneaking into the Restricted section. It had been a moment of Gryffindor boldness that had never appeared in him the last four years of studying at Hogwarts. He had taken two steps towards the bookcase before staggering back. The unique confidences that threatened to have him leap over the tables and confront Madame Pince with a swagger and smirk.
Oh.
If this imagination kept up, Neville was going to faint. At this moment, he had gotten himself into more trouble that he could've ever dreamed up. One of the heavy books had fallen from the shelves and through the scrambling mess of trying to prevent a very loud crash, it had knocked him sprawled across the floor.
By the time Neville came to his senses — a heavy scent in the air had appeared and the rustling of robes. Madame Pince had found him, or worse, Dumbledore. Why would Dumbledore be walking around the castle in the middle of the night? Why would Pince be out of bed? Maybe it was a prefect?
Neville wasn't able to answer all these questions because he was too busy trying to bury himself in a mental hole, salvaging the tatters of excuses he had made up earlier. Long nails scrapped at his chin, tilted it up and he froze. All excuses and explanations faded away.
He had never seen this woman before.
Dark eyes stared back at him with amusement and the woman smirked. Her robes were green, Slytherin emerald, but they were unlike the robes the students wore. It reminded Neville of his grandma's robes.
"Hello Neville."
The mysterious woman had taken his dumbstruck expression surprisingly well, by taking his hand, leading him to one of the many library tables. Some still working part of his brain made note of the fact that one particular Hufflepuff had left their potions assignment on one of the tables. How unfortunate.
"W-What?"
Then Neville wanted to smack himself. Out of all the things to say, that was the dumbest.
"I understand this must be shocking for you." The woman looked rather contrite. She was very beautiful, he noted to himself.
"No, no. It's just..." Neville looked around at the nearly empty library, "... um, just where did you come from?"
Was that rude? That was rude.
The woman nodded at the ground where the large tome book open on the ground. "Isn't it obvious?"
Neville stared blankly at the book, before his mind caught up with him and he dived to the floor to fix the mess. While anxiously examining the book for dents, he tried figure out what she was trying to tell him. "I don't understand."
"I came from that book." She looked rather unaffected to his anxiety and worry. "I'm a spirit that was put in that book by their former owner. It's rather powerful Dark magic, almost impossible to use correctly, but when used correctly..." She leaned forward with a wide smile. "It's almost like I'm alive again."
That was impossible.
He swallowed. "Former owner?"
"Merlin."
Neville promply dropped the book.
"Girls don't come from books."
She gave him a pitying look. "Oh, Neville, I'm so much more than a girl."
"H-how do you know my name?"
"I just magically appeared from a book. Let's just assume I know your name for now."
He shook his head. "Okay." Neville pushed the large book towards her. "I don't want to be rude, but I'm really not supposed to be here, in the library, this late."
"Breaking the rules?"
"...Yes, breaking the rules. So, could you get back in this book? Please? I don't know how to explain it if someone found a spirit of dark magic roaming the halls."
Oh, wait.
While Neville was pondering over if the ghosts of Hogwarts were considered 'dark spirits' the woman sighed and shook her head.
"Neville, I was formed by Merlin with a strong emotion and tied as a spirit to this book. This emotion is what attracts me to people who chose to pass by my resting place. Do you really believe that you are the first person to bring me out of the book? I was attracted to you... because you share the same emotion I was created with, and I can help you overcome it."
He couldn't take away his gaze from her.
"What emotion?"
"Regret."
With soft steps, she came to knelt in front of him and placed a hand on his cheek. "Tell me, Neville, what do you regret the most?"
In second year — between his consistent failure at Potions and wimpy defenses, Neville was an easy target for Slytherins, or for Hufflepuffs that liked to giggle amongst themselves. It was like a dark, blinding tunnel with no escape for a small twelve year old.
Until someone stepped up for him.
Defended him.
Studied with him.
That someone was Hermione Granger.
Also in second year, a monster roamed the halls, and while rumours roamed the halls of the school, students were murdered. The school threatened to close. The monster was hunted and killed.
Before it was killed, the monster never chose who was next.
"You lost someone you loved," she observed.
Neville brushed off the top of the book absently. "I lost a friend. My only friend." He muttered bitterly.
"I can understand. I don't have many friends. My humor was always a bit too dark for the people I asociated with." She smirked and snapped her fingers.
Neville watched her warily. "What was that for?"
"It's time to start fixing your regret." She nodded towards the window. "I haven't seen the sun in years."
"What?" Neville narrowed his eyes towards the window. The sun was hanging low in sky, darkened slightly, like it was in the late afternoons. He jumped up in a panic, "no, no, no! Pince will be here any minut —" The protests died halfway in his throat as he came face to face with a frozen form of Madame Pince with a fearsome scowl.
He stumbled backwards, falling to the ground limply.
Weakly, he look behind him to see a pair of contrite Hufflepuffs, holding their bags to their sides, not moving at all. Neville did a double-take. Was that Susan Bones? Her face was younger and Neville never remembered her being so... short.
He looked over to the woman who was surveying their new surroundings with interest. "What did you do?"
She waved her hand over to one of the tables. "Helping you fix your reget."
Neville followed her arm and his heart stopped at the sight.
Hermione.
Covered neck-high with textbooks and papers.
He walked over to her, hardly remembering how to breath. She was just as still as everyone else in this room, and just as young. His hand hovered over her shoulder before dropping to her side.
"I'd hurry up a bit if I were you." The women advised, "I might've been given this gift by the most powerful wizard, but I'm by no means as clever as he was with time travel. You can't interact with her, but you can give her message. Something simple."
"I don't understand." Neville looked hopelessly at her.
The woman encouraged him. "Think about it. The monster, who defeated it?"
Neville tried to focus his thoughts. "Harry. Harry defeated it."
While being surrounded by a scenery he hadn't seen in years, it was making him dizzy. Neville grabbed a seat hastily and sat down. Harry had defeated the monster, what was the monster? After the accident, he had tried to ignore all newspapers and explanations on the deaths, for all they did was leave a sick feeling growing in his stomach, but it was almost impossible not hear whispers of rumours from the students.
"Basilisk? Plumbing?" Neville looked at the woman who shrugged.
"You know more than she did at this moment."
"But... she's...frozen. How do I tell her this?"
"You don't have to." She turned him towards the libary shelves. "You just have to make sure she finds the right answer this time."
Where did he start? Neville looked at the book, dismayed.
She leaned down to whisper to him. "Might I suggest books centered around Slytherin's past?"
With shaky legs, Neville got up from the chair and took long look at the still figure of Hermione Granger.
He would do it.
For her.
Thirty minutes and Neville could feel his eyes burning. He wasn't a reader. He read books, yes, but thta didn't mean he did it a lot. Already he had gone through the whole bottom section of one of the shelves. Which, in retrospect, wasn't the brightest idea. Warily, he shifted closer to the table in case the shelves fell on him.
The woman was perusing over some of the papers on the table near Hermione with interest. She looked... impressed.
Neville tried to find a moment to ask a question, but ended up staring awkwardly at the woman until she slowly look up and tilted her head. "Yes?"
"Uh... why are you helping?" He shook his head. No, that wasn't right. "Why do you help people with regrets?"
"Because I live with many of them." She smiled sadly at him and it made him almost regret asking her, but another question popped into his head and he leaned closer.
"What is your name?"
She started to answer, but leapt up from her chair with a sharp cry. "Watch out!"
He froze. For some reason, he froze. When Neville came to his senses, he looked up toward where the woman was pointing her hand. The book case was hovering above him. Over a dozen heavy books were threatening to land on his head and he let out a soft sigh of disbelief. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," she responded dryly. "Please move."
"Right." He started to shuffle away but a book hovering caught his eye. Emerald green cover and journal size. Neville reached for it. "May I?"
She nodded.
Settling far away from the mess, Neville started to flip through it and his breath hitched halfway through. Beautifully scrawled across the page was a monster and the information...
Basilisk
The woman came up behind him.
"H-How do I tell her this?" Neville gestured wildly. "This is it! But how do I..."
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to speak to leave a message."
Neville stared at the open book in his lap. Is this all it took? Saving someone's life only took a piece of paper? Piece... of paper.
He ripped it from the book and took to the still form of his best friend from years ago. With trepidation, he placed in front of her book.
Neville started to back away. He didn't want to stay here in any longer. If it worked, it worked. If it didn't, then this whole experience had just been a sad nightmare.
"It's done. What now?" He turned around to see the woman smiling at him with a proud, yet bitter smile.
"You go home now."
With those last words, his vision went blank.
Neville woke up with a gasp, clutching a heavy book in his arms. It was still dark outside and the only light that illuminated the room was the bright moon.
Carefully he placed the book on the ground and stepped away.
"Interesting book, isn't it?"
He whipped his head around to see the Headmaster watching him over his spectacles, his eyes twinkling. What was Dumbledore doing walking around so late at night?
"Headmaster?" Neville remembered he wasn't surpose to be out so late after curfew and in the library no less. "I- was... studying?"
"Indeed, I can see that."
Neville inwardly cringed and watched as the Headmaster lifted up the book from the ground.
"Interesting lady, wasn't she?"
He gaped and spoke out before he could remember who he was talking to. "She was real?"
"Of course." Dumbledore flipped the book over. "This book was never meant to be put in this library, but, alas, she has alluded my grasp many times. It's time to take her away from the temptation of young." He peered over his spectacles. "Are you alright, Neville?"
"Fine, sir."
"Then you best be off to bed." Dumbledore smiled. "And to avoid certain prefect rounds, might I suggest you take the left hallway?"
Neville relaxed. He wasn't going to get into trouble. "Thank you, sir." He started towards the doorway, but paused just before leaving. "Sir?"
"Hmm?"
"What was... her name?"
Dumbledore frowned. "Some call her a dark witch. Others say she was merely misunderstood. Students of this school know her as Morgana."
What?
He had met... Morgana?
His throat was dry.
"Off to bed, Neville."
"Right... right..." He left the library with his head spinning with more questions. That answer had done nothing to quench his curiosity. Taking mind of the Headmaster's advice, he took the left hallway and started the long walk back. Each step was filled with anxiety and hope.
Piece of paper...
Was that enough?
Sounds of arguing filled the hallway up ahead.
Prefects.
Neville paused, looking left and right for a classroom or broom closet to dive into, but the walls were mockingly clear. He stayed helplessly there, stuck in the middle of the hallway as the sounds grew closer.
As one of the voices became increasingly clearer, Neville found his heart to be pounding faster and faster.
"Ronald! I told you, we're suppose to checking the stairway next!"
"We'll go back to it later. This takes us right around to the stairway."
"That's not what they said to do at the Prefects meeting!"
The sight of the two teenagers bickering was a strange sight to see, because never had Neville seen Ron Weasley so lively in a setting so different from tackling Malfoy in a brawl. And he certainly had never seen Hermione Granger... looking so real.
Unfortunately, he was spotted before gaining his bearings.
Hermione looked surprised. "Neville? What are you doing out after curfew?"
Ron followed soon after her, looking bemused. "Did you forget the password again?"
"I -..." He looked helplessly at Hermione.
She placed a hand on his arm and looked concerned. "Are you okay?"
To his shame, he could feel his eyes watering up. "Hermione..."
"Neville?"
"Whats wrong, mate?"
Neville knelted on the ground and covered his eyes with the two Prefects watching worriedly over him.
It worked...