Neville's Story

Neville was amazed at the shear size of the castle, with it's many staircases, some of which possessed vanishing stairs (a fact he learned all to often sometimes soliciting laughter from other students that passed by). If not for Dean and Seamus, Neville would have lost his way many times. Following them, he made it to his classes on time. Though Dean and Seamus occasionally became lost themselves, several of the portraits and Nearly Headless Nick would help guide them to their classrooms.

From running across Mr. Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored and ill-tempered cat, Neville got the distinct impression that the caretaker had a great distain for all the students, as though he resented them for being there.

Neville quickly took to Herbology, which was taught by a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout. For some reason, he found the subject of magical plants and fungi and their uses fascinating. It quickly became his favorite subject and the greenhouses were the one place Neville could always be found. It soon became his North Star, the starting point for him to guage where he was in the castle, though he still forgot about the vanishing stairs.

Neville, dreaded the first day of each of his classes. Not only was he nervous about actually starting classes, but he was wondering how the various professors would react to his name. Though many of the students were probably too young to know about his parents, Neville expected that many of the professors would know of his parents and their secret.

He'd been told by many of his relatives that his parents as well as his gran had been well liked and known. Hearing the slight sadness in their voices when they read his name or seeing the hint of sadness in their eyes as they glanced at him only confirmed the fact that they knew about his parents. Only Professor Snape, Professor Binns, and Professor Quirrell seemed to show no sign of recognition as they read his name off the rolecall. Fortunately none of the other students, even the perceptive Hermione, were able to catch the slight inflection of their voices as the professors called his name.

Finally, their week was about to end. Though they had endured four days of classes, they had yet to have their last class; Potions. Filing into the Great Hall for breakfast, Neville sat beside Dean and Seamus with Ron, Hermione, Harry and the Weasley twins across from him. Just as Ron handed Neville the sugar, an owl landed in front of him. Hooting at him, it held its leg out for him. Dropping a rolled note before him, it flew off.

Eying the note, Neville picked it up and unrolled it. In very formal and neat writing, it said:

Neville Longbottom,

Please come to my office after lunch for a brief meeting. Mr. Filch will wait for you at the entrance to the great hall and direct you to my office. Thank you,

Professor Dumbledore

Neville had actually expected such a note as gran had told him about Dumbledore and how the great sorcerer was once a great friend to his grandfather and knew both Neville's parents very well.

Having become used to notes from the other professors about meeting for help with his studies, Neville lied, telling Dean and Seamus that it was a note from Professor McGonagall about their homework.

"She really does work us hard, doesn't she," Seamus stated as he caught the tail end of Neville's remark.

"Yeah," Dean replied, "wish she'd favor us a bit more since she's head of our house."

"Well, its Neville, he needs all the help he can get," chimed George.

"Yeah," agreed Fred. "But seeing as how you've got Potions today with Snape, and a double dose of it too, she's probably going to try to encourage Neville. You know, to keep him from quitting. Snape'll pick on anyone who isn't in Slytherin, particularly Gryffindors. Actually, she should probably be sending each of you a note. She probably doesn't want to lose any first years"

"And to make matters worse, we've been paired with the Slytherins," Dean said, looking at his schedule.

Finishing breakfast, they headed down to the dungeon where Professor Snape held his classes. Entering the room, they found that the Slytherins had already claimed the back tables and desks, leaving the front free for the Gryffindors. Taking their seats, they barely pulled out their things when Professor Snape entered.

Scanning the first years, Professor Snape smiled as he spotted the Slytherins. Taking the scroll full of the students' names, he began to take a roll call. Like Professor Flitwick before him, Professor Snape seemed unable to get past Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said as he looked up from the list, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Professor Snape's remark drew a few snickers from several Slytherins, with a pale blond boy named Draco Malfoy and his nearly identical goons Crabbe and Goyle leading the way. Focusing his black, cold eyes on the students, Professor Snape eyed each of the students, giving each Gryffindor a cold unwelcoming stare while offering a slight smile to the Slytherins.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he finally said, breaking the silence. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Beside him, Neville saw Hermione, eager to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Professor Snape shouted suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Immediately Hermione's hand shot up into the air, clearly indicating that she knew the answer. Beside her, Neville was glad that she knew because he had no idea.

"I don't know, sir," Harry replied, bringing a sneer to Snape's wicked face.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything," Snape replied, ignoring Hermione's raised hand.

Neville understood at once that it was more then just the Head of Slytherin picking on a Gryffindor, but a personal grudge that was being acted out before the entire class. Had Harry already done something to upset Professor Snape?

Snapping his attention back to the lesson at hand, Neville listening to Snape's other questions, all of which Harry knew nothing about while Hermione clearly knew the answers, Neville could clearly hear several Slytherins snickering and laughing. From the sound of it, he could tell that Malfoy and his goons were the chief instigators.

"I don't know," Harry replied again, "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you ask her?" Standing up between them, Hermione had her hand raised towards the ceiling, clearly eager to answer the questions.

A few Gryffindors laughed at Harry's remark, though it was clear that Snape was not pleased.

"Sit down!" Snape snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." Looking at his students, Snape snapped, "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Amid the sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, Neville tried to write what Snape had told them, aware that even the Slytherins had promptly stopped snickering behind him and were taking notes as well. "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter," Snape added as he walked behind his desk.

Nervously, Neville tried to concentrate on what Snape told them as the class continued. Breaking up into pairs, Neville and Seamus tried to follow the instructions that Snape had written on the board. Beside them, Crabbe and Goyle worked, aided by the nearly perfect Malfoy, whom Snape was obviously favoring.

Weighing the crushed snake fangs, Neville barely saw Malfoy tossing something to Goyle as Snape examined Harry and Ron's cauldron. Distracted, Neville knocked something into the cauldron, causing a small explosion. The mixture flew onto Neville as he tried to see what Goyle had thrown into the mixture, drenching him. Feeling a burning sensation, Neville could barely concentrate; much less explain that their potion had been sabotaged by the Slytherins.

Whimpering, he couldn't get past the excruciating pain he felt all over his skin as the potion burned him. Faintly aware that Seamus was leading him to the hospital wing, Neville knew that though it hurt, it was nothing serious that would require him to go to St. Mungo's.

After being examined by Madam Pomfrey, Neville quaffed the potion she had given him and shortly thereafter fell asleep.

Walking up several hours later, Neville felt his skin tingling, but was glad that it was no longer burning as it had been when he had first entered the hospital wing.

"Ah, you're awake," he heard someone say. Looking around, Neville spotted Dumbledore. "I heard about your accident and decided to bring you some lunch. I had hoped that we could keep our appointment," he added as he set the tray on Neville's bed.

Looking at Dumbledore's wise eyes and his wrinkled face, Neville recalled the one time he had met the famous sorcerer. It'd been a few years ago, when everyone had thought he was all Muggle.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it Neville?" Dumbledore said, smiling. "Try the roast duck, it's quite remarkable."

Taking a slice of the duck, Neville nodded. "I'm sure that you know the truth about your parents by now," Dumbledore said. Neville nearly choked on the duck as he fought back his emotions. Hearing the tinge of sadness in Dumbledore's voice, Neville kept his eyes on the tray of food. "I know that it's not an easy subject for you to talk about, but I'm glad that you know the truth. I'm sure that you know by now that several of the professors know, many of them taught your parents just as they are now teaching you. Some of them were even friends of your parents, as I was."

Chewing his food, Neville could have cared less how delightful and tasty or how horrible the food was, having lost all sense of taste as he fought back his tears.

"The world of magic can be wonderful," Dumbledore said calmly. "It can also be terrible, as you well know." Neville heard him take a deep breath, pausing as if unsure what to say next.

"You, like everyone else at Hogwarts, have a lot of potential. You simply have to believe in yourself," Dumbledore said as he stood up. Had Neville been watching Dumbledore, he would have seen the wizened sorcerer wiping his eyes as he smiled at the young boy.

Setting his food down, Neville cried.