It's Not Easy Being Green

It wasn't easy being Trevor the Toad.

Not that Trevor had much basis for comparison, of course. Born and bred in a magical pets shop in Diagon Alley, his knowledge of what it was like to be any other toad was limited to the experiences of his tankmates, which in the end, were almost the same as his own. And since he'd been taken away, he'd had no contact with any other toads. It was quite an unusual choice of pet, after all - even for a wizard.

The Day of Leaving was one looked upon with fear and reverence by the tank toads. The mystery of the Great Beyond, the world outside of the tank, was the undiscovered country for all of them. The journey was one way, after all; no toad ever returned to tell the tale of his experiences Out There. Sometimes Trevor wondered about his old companions, and where they'd ended up on their own special days.

Trevor would certainly never forget his. It started, as often happens in a pet shop, with a pointy-nosed face in front of the glass, eyes peering, fingers poking. Then, suddenly, the Instrument of Leaving swooped down into the tank. The toads all hopped as best they could, but the net descended upon Trevor before he could gather himself to leave, and just like that, he was out!

"Fine selection you've made, madam." The booming voice came from behind Trevor, who was too petrified to move, but the slight vibrations it caused led him to believe that it belonged to the one holding him captive.

In front of him was the same pointy-nosed face. It belonged to a woman unlike any he'd seen, and that was saying something. Tall, dressed in green, with an elaborate hat topped with something that struck instinctual fear into the hearts of all toads - a vulture! Trevor's buggy eyes fixated on the bird as he let out a croak!

The woman sniffed. "I suppose so. It's good enough for my grandson, anyway. I'm still surprised he even got a Hogwarts letter, you know. His magic manifested so late. Not at all like his father's did."

"Toad's a fine pet, Mrs. Longbottom," the man continued, shaking Trevor once again, "'specially for a boy just goin' off to school. He'll be the envy of his peers. I remember my first pet; raven, it was. Named it Poe..."

"That'll do, thank you," the woman interrupted briskly. "I'll take it."

"Right." The man swung Trevor around so swiftly that he became disoriented and didn't come to his senses again till the lid on the pockholed box they put him in was shut. He couldn't hear what was going on outside beyond muffled voices. This condition persisted so long, in fact, that he thought it best to rest after what had been the most eventful day of his entire life and went to sleep.

He was roused what he felt was not too long later by the sound of the lid scraping open and light flooding the box. As he blinked in the sudden illumination, he heard a new much younger voice cry, "A toad! Oh Grandmum, thank you so much!"

Trevor's eyes finally adjusted and he found himself looking up at the face of a boy, not too young not too old looking at him like he was the best thing in the world. "I'll call him Trevor. Is that a good name for a Toad, Grandmum?"

"Just don't lose him." The old woman sniffed again.

It wasn't easy being a toad, especially when you belonged to one Neville Longbottom.