The Importance of a Gum Wrapper

Harry Potter was not a normal boy. Number Four Privet Drive was where he dwelled along with the Dursleys, his wicked relatives from his dead mother's side of the family. He was a wizard, yet he still was not normal, even to the wizarding world . . .

Okay, Okay, I think it's safe to say we've heard all about the angsty sixteen year old, Harry Potter, his hard time with the Dursleys, blah, blah, blah . . .

But what about Neville Longbottom? The would-be "Boy Who Lived", if Voldemort had only killed his parents instead of young Harry's and left a mark on his head instead. Then Neville would be famous, and Harry Potter would be able to live his life in peace. No Rita Skeeters messing up his reputation. But it just so happens that Fate didn't have that lifestyle in store for poor Neville. Oh no . . . It doesn't really matter though, because either way, Neville lost his parents anyway. Oh no, they're not dead! Worse. They have lost their minds . . . yes, poor things can't even remember their own son's name.

Neville took this really hard. He told absolutely no one about his parents, not even if they had asked. They didn't ask anyway, and Neville was thankful for that. He didn't want people's pity. Neville often sympathized with Harry. When Neville felt sad about his parents, he would just remind himself that at least he wasn't Harry. At least he didn't have a Dark Lord hunting him. At least he didn't have to live every day of his life in fear of being killed.

Poor, Poor Harry

, Neville thought. He looked out his window at the street below, which was glistening in the sun from the extensive heat the sun had bestowed upon the small village of Godric's Hollow.

Godric's Hollow was a small wizarding community outside of London. It was a quaint village, accustomed to the ways of the old wizarding world. Houses were built Victorian style upon a hill overlooking a small lake. Yes, you are allowed to say that it was the perfect location for retired wizards and witches to live.

Neville lived with his overly grumpy grandmother, on his father's side. She was mean and strict, but Neville knew it was in his best interests. After all, she had taken him in when no one else would.

But this brings us to the reason his parents aren't bringing him up. About a week after Harry had "defeated" Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of other people had attacked his parents, torturing them until they lost their minds. Of course, Neville thought spitefully, they didn't bother to kill them, end their misery. They just left them. Left them there to torture their family forever.

He looked out of the window again, but was surprised to see Harry standing there in the garden, looking at his house. Harry looked down at a small piece of paper he was holding, and then tucked it in his pocket. Neville watched Harry walk up to his door, hearing the knock on the door.

"Neville!" his grandmother called up the stairs. "Neville, can you get the door?"

Neville ran down the stairs, through the kitchen, dining room, living room, and into the front hall. He pushed the heavy oak door open to reveal a very shaken Harry Potter.

"Oh, hello Harry," he said in a cheery voice, a fake smile playing on his lips. "Forgive me, won't you come in?"

Harry hurried in, looking around behind his back, as if checking for pursuers. Once inside, he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

"Umm . . . " Neville started. Harry grabbed Neville's sleeve, as if realising he was finally at his destination.

"Neville . . . " he said softly, his voice hoarse. Neville could tell he hadn't had much to eat or drink over the holidays by the sound of his voice and the way his clothes fit loosely on him.

Neville lead him over to the couch in the living room. After he sat him down, Neville bustled off to the kitchen and fixed Harry a glass of water. When he returned, Harry seemed to have caught his breath. He looked quite relieved to see the glass of water, and gulped it up in less than a minute.

"Neville, I'm so sorry for not telling you before coming, but it was urgent," Harry said, setting the glass down on the coffee table.

"It's okay. I haven't had company for a long time." Neville smiled, but he could see that Harry wished to get on with his story. "But please, tell me why you came, and what was so urgent?"

"Neville, do you remember that day at the hospital, over Christmas Holidays last year?"

Neville thought back. Oh yes, that day. The day when they all found out about his parents. "Yes, I remember, but what does this have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything!" There was great urgency in his voice, but Neville still had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "Do you still have the gum wrapper your mother gave you?"

Neville pulled the gum wrapper out of his pocket. He had always kept at least one with him all the time. It reminded him of his parents. Harry looked slightly surprised at this, but said nothing about it. He simply took it from Neville's hand. Neville watched with interest as Harry unfolded it, looked at the brand name and then looked at a piece of paper in his pocket.

"Just as I thought," Harry said, putting his piece of paper back in his pocket.

"Just as you thought what? Harry, you're not making sense to me!" Neville was quite confused now.

Harry looked at him, his face quite serious and sombre. "Read to me the brand name of the bubblegum your mum gave you." Harry handed Neville the wrapper, and Neville took it, shooting Harry a questioning look.

"'Drooble's Best Blowing Gum'," he read aloud. "But Harry, I don't get it!"

"Come now, Neville think!" Harry's eyes were wide now. "Ever since that day, I thought it rather peculiar of your mother to give you a bubblegum wrapper. I can't believe I didn't get it. Simply ingenious!"

"But, she's insane, Harry. Insane people are prone to do peculiar things. The healer said it was somewhat normal." Neville looked over at him. "But see here, what are you getting at?"

"Neville, does your mother always give you Drooble's?"

"Why?"

"Just answer the question, Neville!"

Neville thought back to the big box of gum wrappers his mother had given him ever since he could remember. It was true; all of them were Drooble's. Now that he thought about it, it was rather peculiar. He looked at Harry questioningly. "Yes, now that I think about it."

Harry breathed out. "Just as I thought!" There was an excited gleam in his eyes as he extracted the piece of paper from his overly large jeans pocket. "Look here!"

Written on the small slip of paper, were the words "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum" and underneath that, the words "Gold Bribe Below St. Mungo's".

"I don't get--"

"Oh come on, Neville! You must understand by now!" When Neville continued to look bewildered, Harry sighed. "It's an anagram! Your mother was trying to send you a message! Maybe she's not as insane as we thought she was . . . "

Neville just stared above Harry's head, out of the window, unable to speak. Harry waved a hand in front of his face. Neville didn't even blink. Harry turned around, looking out of the window as well. What he saw disturbed him greatly.

He got a glimpse of Lucius Malfoy, before he disapparated. Harry then turned back to Neville, again waving a hand in front of his face.

"Neville?"

Suddenly, ten wizards apparated in front of them. Albus Dumbledore was in the front.

"Harry? What's wrong with him?" Dumbledore asked, his voice deep and demanding.

"I don't know, Professor. He just-- I just-- "

Dumbledore lifted Neville from the couch and apparated to St. Mungo's. Harry looked at the other surrounding wizards, whom were all staring at him.

"What happened?"

"Well," one of them answered reluctantly, "we got word that the Dark Mark was seen here. Did you hear anything?"

"No . . . "

Just then, however, one of the wizards came down the stairs carrying Neville's grandmother. She was dead . . .

And outside, a greenish glow came from the sky, the Dark Mark floating and twinkling benignly in the darkening sky . . .