Well, I have finally finished Part II. Took me about 30 minutes to write, I had a writer's frenzy :).
Part II
[Time Frame]: The day after Dumbledore's death.
Neville stood among the hoard of students gathered to honor Albus Dumbledore. He lay in the Great Hall, surrounded by pupils, teachers, and other mourners. Minerva McGonagall, whom everyone knew was quite attached to the Professor, stood straight as an iron rod in front of him, a single tear trailing down her wrinkled cheek. It was Harry Potter, kneeling before his idol, who led the sob-fest. He refused to raise himself from the body. Hermione wept quietly in Ron's shoulder, and he patted her head and silently watched Harry.
Neville raised his want and sent up the reverent sparks when bidden, paid due respects when allowed, and said kind words to Harry and Professor McGonagall when told to do so, but he did it as in a trance. His actions were robotic, his language stiff. He had absolutely no feelings about the matter as of yet. It was still shocking what had happened.
Late last night, rudely awakened from his slumber by screaming and loud cracks from wands, he had personally witnessed Hagrid's burning hut smolder from his window, watched the Death Eaters fly off into the night after such destruction, and had seen Snape follow them. It was a horrible nightmare, and he still wasn't sure if it was real or not.
Seamus had gone off on a tangent, saying how he was sure his mum would never let him stay with Dumbledore gone, how he wasn't too sure he wanted to stay anymore. He criticized Harry for being so weak, for acting like a little girl instead of taking the loss like a man, like nearly everyone else. Neville hadn't really time to decide what he thought about all of it, for he was bustled everywhere that morning. Students were being sent home immediately, term ending early while the Ministry sorted everything out, and Neville's Gran was probably one of, if not the, first parent/guardian to want their child/children out of the school pronto. He was sent packing right after the ceremony, given last minute items from all the professors in order to continue studies at home, and a note about the events that had occurred. He was shipped onto the train right after the lunch hour without a proper goodbye.
As he sat among his possessions in the vacant car, it finally hit him. He was leaving Hogwarts, possibly forever. Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of all time, was dead, and he, Neville Longbottom, would never be able to avenge his mentor's death, because he would never graduate Hogwarts. He was pretty sure Gran wouldn't want him to return.
He was right. They apparated together from the station, and just as soon as he stepped through the front door of the house, she told him, "You're not going back, boy, you realize that, don't you?"
He had realized it, but he didn't want to believe it. "Gran, please be reasonable…" He was not allowed to finish. His grandmother took off her vulture hat, hung it up on the rack, and sat down at the little side table in the hall, her head in her hands. "My dear child, you can't possibly fathom that I'd let you return there, not after what has just occurred! I hope you said proper goodbyes. You'll not step through those doors again." She seemed to be trying to smooth away the ever-present wrinkles upon her forehead.
Neville, having transformed in that moment from the meek little boy he once was into a lion, roared at her, so to speak. "My parents are in St. Mungo's, Gran. Surely you know that. They gave up everything to save me, to save us all. Look at what became of them, Gran! I have to go back, to learn, to become what they became, even though I may suffer the same fate." "Neville, I said…" "I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!" he screamed at her. She looked at him in awe, and his hands trembled as he looked at his palms and said, "How am I supposed to live up to their legacy? I am nothing, Gran, nothing. I'm miserable, useless, stupid, and I won't ever be anything better unless you let me go back. Please, Gran, you have to let me go back to Hogwarts."
His eyes pleaded with her. He would have liked to beg, on his knees, imploring her to send him back, but that wasn't the manly thing to do. She collapsed onto the table in tears. Neville felt some pity, but mostly anger, and it built up until she finally said, in a broken voice, "I have lost two Longbottoms already, Neville. I cannot, and will not, lose another. I'm sorry."
Neville pulled at his hair and flailed his arms furiously, but she didn't even look at him. He finally gave up, and took his suitcases up to his attic room sadly. He roughly threw them to the floor and slammed the door, not caring if the sound echoed for miles around. Gran never let him do anything! She treated him like a child, while he was almost seventeen. Her decision was selfish, wasn't it? Just because she was afraid, Neville couldn't go back to the one place he felt special, would not allow him entry into the place where he could do what he best- fiddle with plants. He loved Herbology, and because of Gran, he'd never be able to become a Professor of Herbology. He couldn't get a job that paid well; he'd have to work at the Leaky Cauldron forevermore. He would never find a decent girl, and when Voldemort came back, he wouldn't be able to protect himself or anyone else, because he wouldn't be experienced enough. He'd have to sit back and watch Harry Potter save everyone again and again, while he muttered and twiddled thumbs in the shadows…
Nope, that wouldn't be happening. If Gran refused to send him to Hogwarts, he'd find someone that would: his uncle Algie.
Hope you enjoyed, please R&R :].