Disclaimer: I'm getting tired of writing that I don't own Harry Potter. Nor do I own Fable.

Chapter 4: Growing up.

In which, Neville gets more than he bargained for.

Years have passed now for our heroes, and they left their childhood, training and studying relentlessly at the heroes' guild, their objectives and memories becoming less precise as time goes on. Of course, growing up has brought its lot of changes, from Hermione's more obvious physical ones, to Percy's mother henning tendancies reaching new heights, they all changed from apprentice wizards, to apprentice heroes, and Neville, the one who was making the thinking right now, was wondering if that was really for the better.

He was now sixteen years old and the second tallest of their trio (sometimes he swore the Weasleys were secretly descended from vikings or something, they were all so freakishly tall, well, those he could remember in any case.). He had the same brown hair and eyes, slightly pale skin, his nose miraculously survived training, remaining straight, and he still had all of his teeth. That was where the similarities stopped. His specialized training was definitely starting to show, his shoulders were broad and his muscles were becoming impressive. All of his baby fat melted years away, his shyness and clumsiness long gone. Well, in the latter's case, Theresa decided he needed some remedial classes when his sword slipped away from his hand and lodged itself in his foot and didn't heal him until after their ... lessons. It was either adapt or die by giant wasps, and if there was one thing that defined Neville, it was his ability to adapt. Sadly, even the change of pace couldn't do anything about his forgetfulness problems or his inability not to get lost without a map, which was why he was sitting on the forest's ground, legs crossed and pondering his next move, his iron sword next to him. He put the shimmering wings he plucked from his latest victim in a satchel he wore at his belt, reminscing why he was here. from what he could remember, he wanted to go around and clear the beetle's nest Percy had found while coming back from a trollslaying quest. Neville's forest garden was coming along nicely, there was no way he would let the winged menaces damage it. Moreover, if Hermione didn't get the plants for her latest wacky experiment...

Trying to avoid thinking about what the very scary girl would do if he upset her again, he got up sighing. He could faintly discern voices coming from his left. He was pretty sure he was too far from the guild, wherever it was, to hear them, which left the occasional merchant convoy, or, more likely, a bandit group. The voices were nearing and Neville decided not to risk it. Percy would kill him if he was late for their 'catching up session' for no reason, and fighting for his life against them wasn't good enough a reason.

The problem being that the trees didn't offer a good coverage and , as he was still a student, he was wearing the cream coloured, very famous guild uniform. Which meant that not only did the bandits noticed a person alone not very var from them, but it was a Hero. Which meant kill or be killed, and if there was one thing bandits were good at, it was killing. Our poor apprentice hero then found himself facing a small group of five bandits. Rolling his eye, he reached for his sword. At least he could say to his older brother figure that he tried. He inspected them as they ran towards him.

Two swords, one pickhammer, covered by two crossbows. The closest swordsman wasn't wearing an armor to his torso, he'd be the first one to go. When the melee combattants were less than two meters from him, he lunged, his sword crossing the distance too fast for its intended victim to correct his trajectory, his momentum playing against him. The cold metal bit into the bandit, piercing though the upper torso. Using the second of shock from the soon to be dead pickhammer user, Neville grabbed his sword with two hands, twisted it while it was still into the agonizing swordsman so that the blade wouldbe horizontal to the ground, put himself at the right of the blade, pushing with his right hand and pulling with his left. this caused the sword to cut through the first swordsman and bypass the pickhammer's user's guard; the bandit managed to avoid being cut in half, but Neville could see he cut his ribs, the blood at his lips showing that the lung had been damaged, so it wouldn't matter in a short time anyways. He heard a whistling sound and ducked, narrowly avoiding the projectiles and cursed. He'd already forgot about them. His lack of concentration cost him as the second swordsman managed to sneak behind him and cut his side. The young man bit back a scream and turned around, his sword tracing a bloody arc in the air decapitating the man. Neville then hid behind a tree and inspected his wound quickly, his hand rifling though his bag to get a pink potion. He uncorked it with one hand and drank it quickly grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of the flesh knitting back together. At least his rib wasn't broken, that would have been problematic, since the 'health potions' could only help for flesh wounds, not poisons, illnesses and broken bones .

He heard the very satisfying click of crossbows going out of ammunition, smirked, looked over his shoulder from behind the tree to make sure it wasn't a stratagem, and ran towards the ranged fighters, grabbing the first's forearm and squeezing it hard to force him to let go of the dagger while holding his sword in a reverse grip, to block the incoming blow from the other one. He then kicked him away, twisted the first crossbowman's arm to force him to kneel and stabbed him where the heart should be. Since he didn't get up, that meant he wasn't too far off the mark.

Nevile was about to go after the last bandit when he felt his hair rise on his neck and a chill run along his spine. He gripped his sword harder and scanned the area around him. There was a disturbance in the air not far from him and whatever it really was, it caused his fight or flight instincts to go overdrive. A creature he'd never seen before appeared in front of him and let out a metallic howl before it started to attack. Its speed was nothing to scoff at either, for it was on him before he could blink. Ducking in extremis under its double edged blade, Neville swiped with his sword, aiming ai its unarmored armpit, but it suddenly brought down its elbow on his head and kicked him away, sending him crashing in a tree.

Neville's vision was swimming and he touched his temple, looking at bloody fingers.

'Not good...'

He threw himself to his right, dodging the charging monster, weaving through the trees as fast as he could until he brought his sword parallel to his body, saving him from being cut in half. The strength from the blow dislocated his shoulder and he rolled away in a clearing.

He got up, leaning against a tree to stay up.

'Not good at all.'

The creature charged again and he dodged, using his sword to deflect its weapon, which ended up stuck in the bark. A metallic sound was heard and the young man saw a line running along the blade. Running once again, he finally got out of the woods . Ignoring the metallic howl, he jumped down the small cliff, and rolled to get back to his feet. He had somehow reached the Greatwood Lake. The thing jumped to follow and a whistling sound was heard, glowing arrows raining upon its form. It made a last, pitiful noise before breaking down, disappearing in sickly green sparkles and smoke.

"Neville."

Fallong on his backside and sighing in relief, Neville looked up. Yup, same freckled face, same large ears, same austere expression , Percy definitely didn't change since he graduated and became a full fledged hero. Rubbing his head embarrassedly, he grinned at his elder.

"Hi Perce.. I got lost ?"

The redhead snorted , shaking his head with a rueful expression and helped the brunette up.

"You know Hermione is going to call out for your blood ?"

Neville let out a short laugh. Their female friend's temper was legendary, even amogst other heroes.

"Not going to speak about the rules ? Something I should know ?"

Percy merely smirked, the younger man rolling his eyes.

"Come on and say it, i know you're just dying to do this."

The redhead gladly obliged him and put his shoulder back in place with a swift move, revelling in the younger man's pained expression.

"I told you gallivanting in the woods was going to bring you troubles. A minion, in Greatwood , how unlucky can you become ?"

Neville tunes out his friend's ranting while he lead them back to the guild, Hermione waiting arms crossed, foot tapping and murder in her eyes.

"Neville Frank Longbottom."

She hissed, her hair puffing lihe the fur of an angry cat, electricity arcing around her.

Neville reached in his pocked and got a yellow and silver gemstone agitating it tantalizingly in front of her. Her eyes alterned between them , he could see the gears in her mind working. Huffing, she took the lightning augment, still glaring at him.

"You're going to be the death of me, do you even know how worried I was ?"

Neville blushed , a bit embarrassed, and tried to salvage the situation.

"Now now, you make me look unreliable."

"You are unreliable." She said with a deadpan expression

"Heeeeerms." Now he was whining, hugging her. "You don't see how it wounds me, it wounds me so so deeply, you can see my heart of hearts bleeding from your cruel blow."

"What is bleeding right now are my eyes in front of your acting skills Longbottom."

Her shoulders sagged and she rubbed her temples. If he was coherent enough to joke, he was alright.

Percy smiled at his surrogate younger brother's antics, before glaring at his right, where Theresa appeared.

The blind woman smirked at him, before turning to the youngest.

"After seeing your performance in the forest, it has been decided that you would take the hero's test to graduate from your training phase."

The redhead sighed tiredly, he tried to slow them as much as he could, but apparently, there was only so much he could do, and they both knew it.

A.N: Timeskip to adulthood, because there isn't much to say about it, even in TLC they did it, I don't see why I couldn't.

Neville: Several things led me to this, first and foremost, the fact that if you have the potential, the guild will make you live to it. He gained a lor of assurance from hanging around Percy and Hermione, their bossy personnalities et great achievements leading him to better himself in consequence (He isn't the jealous type in canon). He grew up hearing Percy complaining a lot about his brothers' mischievous streaks, but remembered them fondly, which lead Nevs to try and incorporate that to his mind. It is also a coping mechanism, for in the light wizarding families, killing is a big no-no.

Hermione : Didn't change much, she's a bit more laid back, despite her apparent comportment and latched on Neville since day one despite anything she'll say. She's incontestably the head of the group and despite having graduated already, she stays because of her research on dimentional travelling. She's the one who adapted to Albion the easiest, being a muggleborn, less set in her ways that the two purebloods. She doesn't shows it much, end likes to argue with Percy, but she cares a lot about the two of them.

Percy: Probably the one who changed the least, contrarily to the other two, he refuses to kill humans, prefering to subdue them. One of the most popular heroes because of that, he's also the mother hen of the group. An argument with Theresa led him to stop coming frequently to the guild, but he still keeps tabs on his future teammates.