Neville Longbottom and the Boy Who Lived

Chapter 4 - Wizard

There were more people at his granddad's memorial than Neville had ever seen in one place. Some were creepy, like the strange man with the weird eye who insisted on looking Nev over and insisting the boy use "constant vigilance." Others were comforting, such as the kind, elderly gray-haired wizard who radiated power, and helped the boy feel at ease. Many of the staff from St. Mungo's were there, and everyone present insisted on saying something to Neville and his Gran.

But what caught Neville's eye was the variety and number of plants and flowers that well-wishers had sent. When most of those who had come to pay their respect had left, he went into the room with all the plants, and looked around.

"Do you like plants?" It was the gray-haired wizard.

Neville nodded. "They make me think of my mum."

"How interesting." The old man looked Neville up and down. "Do you know why we are all here today?"

"It's because Gramps has gone away."

"Do you know where he has gone?"

Neville gave the old man a quizzical look. "No. But Gran says he won't come back. I wish I knew what I did wrong to make him leave. I wish we never went on holiday."

The wizard's heart went out to the child. "Neville, let me tell you where he went." He sat down in a chair and gathered Neville into his lap. Although Neville had never before been introduced to this man, he instinctively felt he could trust him. "First of all, he didn't leave because of you. Your grandfather and I have been friends for a long time, and I know that he stayed with you as long as he could. But there comes a time when the spirit within the body can no longer stay, and must seek out its next adventure in the Great Beyond. But don't ever think that he left because of you. If it was up to him, he would have stayed with you a very long time. And as long as you remember him, he will always be with you."

The old man reached into his robes and pulled out a book. "I have a special present for you. It's even more fitting if indeed you share your mother's passion." He leafed through a couple of pages as if to make sure everything was in order, and knelt down beside the child. "Do you know who I am?"

"I've seen your face, but I can't remember your name. I don't remember a lot of things."

"Understandable. My name is Albus Dumbledore." The wizard opened the front cover of the book. "This is a picture of me with your grandfather. It was taken over forty years ago." Neville studied the black and white photograph. The two men in the image looked at Neville and smiled. "Through this picture, you can talk with your granddad, or to my image. You won't be talking directly to me, but you will be able to pass on a message that I can receive."

"Why is the book important?"

"Ah. Turn the page. Do you see what is written there?"

Neville looked at the script, but couldn't make it out. He had only recently begun to read, and could sound out most words when printed or typed. He looked up at the wizard and shook his head.

"This is a message from your father to your mother. He gave her this book."

The child started to look through the book. On almost every page was a picture of a plant. He could see many of those same plants in this very room. Others were far more exotic. There was writing accompanying the pictures, but Neville was too excited to be concerned with trying to read.

"It's a book about plants," Neville whispered. "Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore." He closed the book and hugged it to his chest, thrilled with the thought that he had something to share with the Wizard in front of him, and his family. "I promise I'll treat this book really good."

Dumbledore laughed. "I know you will child. There is one more thing. Every year on your birthday, you must open the book. The magic requires it. If you forget, then the picture will be unable to communicate with you, and many of the secrets the book contains will be lost forever. Do you understand?" Neville nodded. "Good. Now, I have to be going. Take care, Neville. We will meet again."

*****

Over the next several months, Neville worked daily on his reading. His Aunt Enid had become his best friend in the wake of his granddad's passing, and she helped him with both his vocabulary and his pronunciation. She forced him to read out loud. It was important for a wizard, she said, to be able to speak properly. Gran still visited Neville's parents daily, but Neville's trips became less frequent.

The trips to St. Mungo's became progressively more difficult for the boy. Both Frank and Alice were mobile now, but they often lurched across the room haphazardly, sometimes scaring the boy and the other patients. Worse yet, they still had little sense of memory. They could recognize people, but were unable to communicate with them in any appreciable sense. And there was no sign of remembering the familial connections. Still, the Healers remained optimistic that someday, the Longbottoms would make a full recovery.

Uncle Algie had all but disappeared. The blame for Gramps death had fallen squarely on his shoulders, and when Algie visited, Gran would never leave Neville alone with his Uncle. Eventually Algie tired of the watchful eye and refused to come over at all. Without his uncle's pressure, and with the tutoring of his aunt, Neville Longbottom thrived.

*****

"You want to what?" Gran asked.

"I want to convert some of the back garden into a flower bed for Neville to practice in," Enid replied.

"You mean play in."

"No, practice. Neville has worked incredibly hard not only on his reading, but on his comprehension." She directed Gran's attention to the boy sitting by the fire reading earnestly. "I think it would be good for him to try a little practical application."

Gran thought about it for a couple of minutes. It won't hurt anything if we clear a little spot near the back of the house, she thought. She walked over to Neville. As she approached, he looked up from the book and smiled.

"What are you reading about, Neville?"

"Daisies. Look Gran. The book says that these are easy to grow. They have to be planted in the middle of March. There's white ones. They're called English daisies. Then on this page are the yellow ones. They're called Gl...Glow...ry...ee...ohh...sa daisies. Is that right?"

He showed her the book, and pointed to the word. "Gloriosa. But that was very close." Gran was amazed. Neville had learned so much over the past several months, and was now at the point where he had begun to reason out problems such as a difficult word by himself. "Would you like to start a flower bed in the back garden?"

Neville's mouth dropped open. "Can I?"

"Absolutely. Why don't we look through the book and pick out several flowers to try."

*****

In March, Neville followed the book's instructions and planted his seeds. He tended them carefully, and was eventually rewarded by green stalks poking through the ground. But in the third week of April, an unexpected freeze hit the area, and his plants struggled to hold onto life. He searched the book for information, and could find nothing on how to keep the plants alive. Nearing tears, the book slipped from his hands on to the ground and he dropped down next to it. He hadn't noticed that the front cover was opened.

"What's wrong, child?"

That was Gramps' voice. "Gramps?"

"Look at me." Gramps was talking to him from the picture. "Tell me what's wrong."

"My...My plants are....dying." Neville fought through his tears. "I d...don't kn...know what to d...do."

"Neville. Stop crying and look at me." Neville took several deep breaths and brought the tears under control. "I want you to try talking to them."

"Talk to the plants?"

"Yes. But don't just say words. Think hard. Make a connection with your mind and your heart. Concentrate, and just let the words come out."

"Okay." Neville wiped his face with his shirt, and put on his coat. He walked out into the garden, and kneeled down in front of his flower bed. He took a deep breath in and exhaled it into the bitter cold. He closed his eyes and thought about the plants he was trying to grow. He visualized them healthy and blooming just like the book had showed him. He combined the thoughts with the warmth he felt for his mum and dad. At the excitement of being given this opportunity by his gran. At the pride his aunt had shown after he first read three pages aloud without a mistake. And then he spoke.

"I don't know if you can hear me. But Gramps says it's important that talk to you. I want you to be strong pretty plants. I want to be able to give you to my mum. Maybe it will help her get better too. But that won't happen unless you get better first."

As Neville made the connection between his heart, soul and mind something changed. He could feel a sort of energy leave from him and go into the plants. He opened his eyes, and looked down at the garden. The ground looked different, and when he touched it, he found it to be warmer than where he was kneeling. The color on the stalks had gone from gray to green, and he could almost feel that they were healthier.

He talked with his garden often after that.

*****

Neville had never been so proud. It had only been three months, but the child had a garden blooming with daisies and carnations. He had very carefully removed a number of the most vibrant flowers so that he could give them to his mum when he visited St. Mungo's the next day. He also picked out one for a special thank you note.

Deer Mr. Dumbeldoor,

Thank you for the book. I really lik the pikturs and I have grone daisies and carnations. I want to giv you one. I hop your well. Thanks again.

Neville Longbottom

He carefully wrapped the flower and put the note in an envelope. He tied the package and letter to the tawny owl, Gran used. "This goes to Mr. Albus Dumbledore. Do you know how to find him?" The owl blinked his eyes affirmatively, and flew out the window.

The next morning, Neville bundled up his flowers, along with an assorted bag of sweets he had purchased with his allowance. He had recently started getting five knuts a week, and it had taken him three weeks to save up for his present. He and Gran flooed to the Wizard's Hospital, and proceeded to the fourth floor.

"What'cha got there Neville?" It was Orderly Tom.

"Daisies and carnations. I grew them in the back garden."

"You did? That's fantastic."

"Yup. These are for my mum."

"Well, I'm sure she'll like them, even if she can't say so."

They proceeded into the ward, and Neville went to his mother's bed. Alice was sitting up, staring at the wall as if she expected it to attack any minute.

"Mum? These are for you." Neville reached up and handed the flowers and sweets to his mother. She dropped the sweets into her lap and held onto the bouquet with both hands. She looked at the flowers, then reached down and bit the head of a daisy and started chewing.

Neville was mortified. Tom quickly took the flowers away before Alice could bite into any more. The boy started to whimper as flower petals dribbled down the front of Alice's hospital gown. Gran stepped past Neville and started to pick the petals off of her daughter-in-law. In short order Alice was cleaned up, and a knock on the window separating the ward from the nurse's station, caught the room's attention. On the counter were Neville's flowers, now in a vase with water.

"Sorry about that, Neville," said Tom as he reentered the room. She thinks everything she gets now is food. It's actually a good sign. She's beginning to function again, ever so little. So we'll keep the flowers right out there where she can see them."

Tom picked up the bag of sweets, and took out a piece. He unwrapped it, and handed it to Alice who promptly put it in her mouth and began to chew. After about a minute, she swallowed, and held her hand out to Tom. He reached for another piece, but Alice was clearly interested in something else. So quickly it took everyone by surprise, she grabbed Tom's wrist holding the empty wrapper, and forced his hand open.

Everyone in the room jumped back. Neville and Gran moved to the end of the bed, ready to leave if Tom called the alarm. She plucked the paper away and held it triumphantly over her head. Then an eerie calm came over her.

"At least it's only paper. There's no real harm if she eats it," Tom said.

Alice smoothed the wrapper out stretching it to its maximum area without tearing it. She looked around and threw back the covers. Tom called out for a nurse and in an instant two people dressed in white appeared. Alice swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood unevenly. Once she had got her bearings, she began to walk, one foot in front of the other, over to Neville.

Neville was both frightened and exhilarated. He had never seen either of his parents out of their beds before. It took all of his Longbottom strength not to run out the door. Alice stopped directly in front of him and looked him in the eyes. The she held out her hand with the candy wrapper.

Neville reached out and took the empty wrapper from his mum. "Thanks, Mum." He didn't know what to think. He turned to look at his gran, and was shocked to find that tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. After he'd received the wrapper, Alice turned and slowly walked back, and climbed into bed.

*****

It was July 30, and Neville was about to turn six. As he did every day, he picked up his book, with the intention of learning about a new plant. He opened the front cover, and tucked behind the photograph was a letter.

Dear Neville,

This book was created for me by your grandfather and his good friend Albus Dumbledore in the event he was killed in the line of duty. Over the course of their time together, they faced many dangers. When I turned eighteen, the book was given to me, and I was told of its purpose. When I married your mother, I modified it to a subject of her liking, and when you were born, we both decided that it should pass to you.

If the book has passed to you, it means something has happened to me, that prevents me from being in your life. And while I apologize for not being there, I don't regret my role in life. I hope in time you can understand why.

Every year on your birthday, a letter like this will appear. I hope in time the letters well be of help to you in the challenges you face growing up. In the meantime, I hope to impress a few things on you.

Now is not the time to work on your magic. That time will come when you are enrolled at Hogwarts and under the supervision of the professors there. Now is the time to work on other subjects. Over the next few years, work on your reading, writing and arithmetic. In a couple of years you will begin subjects such as Geography, Latin and some basic science. Work hard on these subjects now, so that when you leave for Hogwarts, you are properly prepared.

Remember that you come from a noble tradition, and that your actions will reflect on your family. Do your best, and I'm positive it will be enough. Look for my letter next year.

Dad

Neville rushed downstairs. There were many things in the letter he didn't understand. When he walked into the kitchen, Aunt Enid was there. She helped him to read the letter again, explaining the words that were confusing to him. When she was done, they sat in silence for a time.

Then Neville broke it. "Why would he write letters like this?"

Enid thought for a moment. "Sometimes there are things that you need to learn from your parents. Sometimes there is advice that only a father can give. I don't think it's of great importance now, but I'm sure there will come a time, that the advice in these letters will mean more to you then you could be prepared for. Until then, be thankful. Your book is an extremely rare and precious thing. Take care of it, and it will help take care of you.

*****

As the months passed, the ritual at St. Mungo's became a constant. Neville would bring flowers from his garden, and his mother would give him a sweet wrapper. Neville saved each one as if it was a letter. He would press them between pages of his books in order to keep them in as pristine condition as possible.

After hearing about what had happened at the hospital, Algie was more convinced then ever that he had to prove Neville was a wizard. He would come over unannounced, and would throw objects at the boy while he was tending his plants. For over three years, this pattern continued. Every year on July thirtieth, Neville would open his book and find another letter from his father. Each one would exhort him to do his best, and downplay the apparent lack of magic that he had shown. Each one would remind him of his role as a Longbottom, and encourage him to work on his studies.

It was the middle of August, and Neville would soon be starting school for the first time. As he had not yet shown any overt sign of being a Wizard, Gran had decided it was time to join the public school ranks. Most children had been attending school for four years, and although Neville could do the spelling and arithmetic at the appropriate level, now would be the time to start to get accustomed to the social hierarchy that begins in those preteen years.

Algie and Enid had come over for dinner, and shortly afterward, Algie again started harassing Neville, and the boy was fed up.

"Go away, Uncle. I hate you."

"That's the spirit Nev, get angry."

"Leave me alone."

Neville sprinted up the stairs and went into his bedroom. It looked like a normal, everyday eight-year-old child's bedroom, except that instead of football posters adorning the walls, there were Quidditch posters.

Algie burst through the door. "Where you going to run to now, huh?" He took out his wand and with a flick, the window popped open. He set his wand down on Neville's dresser, and approached the cornered child. He grabbed him around the waist, stuck the child's head out the window and slid his arms down the boy's legs to grab him by his ankles. Then he pushed the rest of Neville's body out the window and dangled him over the front porch.

"You're not angry enough! You're not scared enough! Come on. Fight back. Prove you're a wizard." Algie could hear footfalls coming up the steps. "Do it now, quickly."

"Algie what are you doing?" Enid was in the hall. "Are you torturing Neville again. Your sister will have your hide if you continue to terrorize that boy. Why don't the two of you come down and we'll have some lemon meringue pie."

Algie adjusted his hands and was now holding Neville only by his shoes. "We have to Enid. We've got to prove he's a wizard before we send him to that infernal school of hers. He doesn't belong there. No Longbottom does." He was shaking the boy hard now. "Better off that he were dead then trying to live in the Muggle world."

Neville could feel his feet starting to slip from his shoes. With every shake another inch of his feet cleared the fabric. He tried to scream but no sound came out. All he could hear was Gramps' voice.

Make a connection between your heart and your mind...

Neville closed his eyes and thought hard. Turn my body into rubber. He connected those words with his heart the same way he did when he talked to his flowers. He could feel the energy flow into his body, just as his feet cleared his shoes and he plummeted towards the earth.

*****

Algie didn't realize he was losing his grip on Neville until it was too late. He tried to tighten his grip but all he held were empty shoes. He looked down, expecting to see blood seeping out of a broken body. Instead, he saw Neville bounce ten feet in the air as if he had jumped on a trampoline. Neville's momentum carried him down the drive and out into the road like a rubber ball.

"YYYEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!" cried Algie. He ran out of the bedroom door, down the stairs and out of the house with Enid and Gran close behind. Neville had come to a stop two houses down, and was just getting to his feet when his Uncle scooped him up in a giant hug.

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU WERE A WIZARD," Algie yelled.

"I hope that now that he's proven it, you'll stop your nonsense," Gran said. "I'm so proud of you Neville. Now let's go in and have some pie."

Neville was too dazed to say anything. He looked over at his gran and saw the tears in her eyes. Algie lifted him onto his shoulders and carried him back to the house, cheering his name the entire way. When they got to the table, Neville got the biggest piece of meringue.

I really am, he thought. I am a wizard.