NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM- THE CHOSEN ONE (PHILOSOPHER'S STONE)
Chapter 1: The Curse
On the 31st of October 1981, James and Lily Potter of Godric's Hollow were laughing and playing with their one-year-old son, Harry James Potter. As the magical clock on the mantel rang 7 o'clock in the evening, James stretched out his long arms and yawned. Lily was tickling Harry's stomach, and his giggles echoed throughout the candle-lit house. James adjusted his circular glasses and grabbed his wand, lying on the couch. He plopped down beside his son and started conjuring small puffs of red and green smoke, much to Harry's delight. Lily brushed aside her long auburn hair and laughed along with her husband as her child tried to catch the evaporating wisps of powder.
Suddenly, the front gate creaked open ominously and the wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Hurried, daunting footsteps plodded down the footpath, the sound of death ringing in their wake. Lily put her hand over Harry's mouth, looking fearful, whilst James crept towards the window. The figure of a hooded man made his appearance.
James sprinted back to his wife yelling, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"
Lily whisked Harry into her shaking arms and rushed upstairs to the nursery. Silent tears of fear streamed down her face, whilst Harry looked indifferent to all the confusion. Three loud knocks reverberated through the still house. Lily held her breath rocking the cooing Harry. The door unexpectedly burst open with a terrific bang! James' mangled shout was disguised by the abrupt fall of a branch outside. Harry, noticing something amiss, started wailing loudly, whilst his mother desperately tried to soften his cries.
"DUMBLEDORE!" James' incredulous cry carried upstairs. "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US! YOU NEARLY GAVE LILY AND I A HEART ATTACK! WE THOUGHT YOU WERE HIM!"
Lily gasped in relief. She hugged Harry to her chest, her heart beating like wild drums. She stumbled down the flight of stairs coming to a halt in front of the old man. Albus Dumbledore gave her and Harry a sad smile.
"James," he said in a grave but sympathizing voice. "Lily, I am terribly sorry to have frightened you, but I have some terrible news for you."
Lily and James held inhaled sharply as Harry stared intently at Dumbledore with his electric green eyes.
"Fortunately, you are safe… for now." The couple exhaled, their shoulders relaxing. "Terribly though," Dumbledore continued. "Voldemort has killed tonight. He changed targets. Awfully, Alice and Frank Longbottom are dead."
Meanwhile, in the late hours of the afternoon, around 5 o'clock, Alice and Frank Longbottom were teaching their one-year-old son, Neville, how to ride a broomstick. Both Frank and Alice were active Aurors for the Ministry of Magic- and brilliant ones at that- and they had felt that they should introduce their son to the theatrics of broomstick riding. For his recent birthday (the 30th of July) they had gifted him with a toy, a mini one, that he could whizz about on at home. He would learn the basics first of course and then the Quidditch standard techniques! But for now, his parents were solely focused on the task of helping Neville summon his broomstick.
"So, Neville," Frank said clearly in his deep, calming voice. Neville looked up at him, his jade-green eyes shining on his round face. "To catch your broom in the air, you must say UP!" His son stared blankly at him. His mother tried a different tactic.
"Neville dear." The small boy turned his wavering attention to her. "You see my love, stand next to the broom, put your hand out, and say UP, like your father said." She proceeded to demonstrate this and Neville followed her actions, slowly nodding his tiny head of chocolate hair. His mother smiled warmly. "You try!"
He toddled over to the broomstick sucking his thumb and carrying his blue teddy bear, Norman. Hugging his toy close, he put his free hand over the broom and whispered, "up." The stick didn't move.
"Try again sweetie!" His mother comforted him. "Just a bit louder this time, alright."
Neville reset his composure and said with more confidence, "Up!" The broom twitched slightly, much to the Longbottom families' delight.
"Well done my baby boy!" Alice's rosy, jolly face, not unlike Neville's, glowed as she clapped and squeezed her son.
"A chip of the old block!" Frank commented and ruffled Neville's hair. The young child smiled ear to ear and laughed, waving his chubby arms in the air.
Without warning, the window pane smashed as smoke, black as the night, rushed through the gaping hole. Alice gasped, and looked around for the item of destruction, whilst Frank shook his fist angrily, yelling to the non-existent children on the street. "You dirty rascals!" Neville just stared blankly as usual at the scene. Alice and Frank weren't too concerned until, the black smoke suddenly started forming a shape, a figure- the Grim Reaper himself. Lord Voldemort stood over the threshold, baring his rotten teeth, his bluish skin gleaming in the moonlight, twirling his wand. Alice let out an earth-shattering scream as Frank jumped back cursing, shouting, "Galloping gargoyles, the prophecy!" Seeing his parent's fear Neville started to sob as well.
Frank snapped out of his horrified trance and came to his senses. Whipping his wand out he yelled to his wife, "RUN, GO ALICE! TAKE NEVILLE WITH YOU! APPARATE, FLY, JUST DO WHATEVER YOU CAN TO GET AWAY! I'LL FIGHT HIM!"
She hesitated, looking between Voldemort and her crying son. "GO!" Frank hissed.
Alice ran. She pulled Neville with her, holding him close to protect him. She didn't even think of grabbing her wand, which lay forgotten on the couch. She threw the door open and fumbled to unlock the outdoor gate hinges.
Inside the house, Frank let out an agonized yell. Alice gasped and swiftly turned around to see what had happened to her husband. Voldemort's rancid laughter rang in the Longbottom's ears. Neville screamed.
"Crucio!" The evil sorcerer said with mirth. Frank yelled in pain. Alice was shaking, her face painted white.
"Expelliarmus," came the antagonized Auror's strangled voice. Voldemort spat at him in anger.
"How dare you!" he seethed, as Frank attempted to summon another hex. "Filthy, insignificant boy! You think you could curse me! The greatest lord and wizard of all time! Well, you will pay!"
Frank yelped as Voldemort cried,
"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light exploded, and Frank Longbottom was dead.
"Nooooo!" screamed Alice, as her legs almost buckled. "Frank!" Neville began wailing again. Lord Voldemort carelessly kicked his victim to the side and advanced on the widowed wife and child. He stood triumphantly over a cowering Alice and Neville.
"Please!" she cried. "You've killed my husband! Don't kill my son! Don't kill me! Please! Have mercy!"
Voldemort cackled. "The Dark Lord is kind and merciful, but you haven't deserved it. I need you and your worthless child dead." Alice looked up for a split-second, her once happy face, tear and panic-stricken. "Avada Kedavra!" the Dark Lord bellowed, and just as her husband had fallen, so did she. Neville hiccupped and trembled in front of the murder of his parents.
"Longbottom," Voldemort said softly. He grinned, baring his snake-like teeth. "You're all I need!"
"Avada Kedavra!" Neville watched in horror as the spell projected towards him. Suddenly, a loud crack rebounded. Voldemort's eyes grew to the size of saucers as the killing curse shot back his way.
Then he broke. The Dark Lord's soul shattered as his body shushed away, as though a small, wandless boy hadn't just defeated the darkest wizard ever.