Neville Longbottom and the Boy Who Lived

Chapter 10 - Holidays and Quidditch

Even though Neville could understand life at Hogwarts, his adjustment to it continued to take time. Part of the issue came from his roommates having quickly bonded. Ron and Harry were inseparable. Harry was still relatively new to the wizarding world, and Ron delighted in being confidant to the Boy Who Lived. And now that Harry was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the only time Ron failed to be by his side was when Harry went to practice.

Seamus and Dean had also become fast friends. Dean was a very likeable, very talented young wizard, who was still unsure of a Muggle-born wizard's place in the world. Seamus, who had walked the line between the worlds, served as a guide for Dean. Seamus could talk about Quidditch and football with equal alacrity. Dean's caution also balanced Seamus' confrontational nature, and had kept the half-blooded wizard out of trouble on more than one occasion.

Neville was the odd man out in the boys' dormitory. The other four boys didn't go out of their way to exclude him, but they didn't find ways to include him either. And on the rare occasion he was invited, he was just as likely to have an accident as not. He had quickly gained a reputation for his clumsiness and poor memory.

But if there was one area he excelled, it was Exploding Snap. He very rarely lost at the wizarding card game, even to students older then he was. Both Fred and George Weasley had vowed their revenge on the first year student after one particular trouncing left them both with singed eyebrows.

Besides Trevor, Neville was closest with Hermione. No one in school knew what to make of the Muggle-born, know-it-all witch. The first year students felt she tried to boss them around. The second and third year students were intimidated by her intellect and those fourth year and above felt she was being ingratiating and insincere. Her two roommates, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, had bonded in much the same manner as Dean and Seamus, which at the very least gave Neville and Hermione some common ground.

He also didn't mind so much that Hermione took charge. He had grown up in a matriarchal household, and because of that, he did not feel threatened by her. In fact, Neville was far more appreciative of her help. He didn't take very good notes in class, but as long as Hermione felt he was trying, she was more than generous in filling in the spots he had missed. Indeed, Neville had become very good at the theoretical side of the lessons.

It was the practical side where he had his issues. His attempts at potion making were becoming legendary. In the first eight weeks of the term he had melted four cauldrons. Gran had arranged for a local cauldron shop in Hogsmeade to deliver a replacement cauldron at a day's notice.

Neville wasn't much better in Transfiguration and Charms. In fact, the only class where his practical abilities matched his theoretical was Herbology. He had six years of practice that his classmates didn't. Professor Sprout had been so impressed she allowed Neville to earn some extra credit by helping her with the medicinal herbs and fungi being grown in the staff greenhouse. Neville's current project was growing the many pumpkins that would be used for the upcoming Halloween festivities.

*****

"I don't think he likes me, Dean. I don't know why. What did I ever do to him?" complained Neville. He and Dean were sitting in the back row of Charms, barely listening to Professor Flitwick's lecture on levitation spells. Hermione had suggested they try to partner with other students some of the time. And she had immediately sought out Ron. Neville had waved to Harry, but Harry had turned around and grabbed Seamus as he and Dean entered the Charms classroom.

"Well, you do have quite a few accidents, Neville. Maybe he's afraid you'll hurt him. Not on purpose of course."

"But I'm at least as good as Seamus in this class. I could see him running from me in Potions or Transfiguration but I'm actually all right in this class most of the time. He won't even partner with me in Herbology!"

"Maybe he does have something against you. What happened that night he found you in the hallway outside the tower?"

"I...I don't want to talk about that." Neville was still having nightmares about that three-headed dog. "I...I need to concentrate on Professor Flitwick." He stared down at the feather on the table in front of Dean and himself. "You want to have a go at it first?"

Neville looked around the room. He smiled when he saw Seamus set fire to the feather in front of Harry. That serves Harry right, he thought. A sudden twinge of guilt pierced Neville's stomach. He knew better then to take pleasure in someone else's failings.

*****

But being snubbed in class wasn't the only thing Neville thought about that night. He had come to the realization that he was the "Anti-Harry." Somehow Harry had got on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and was a natural at flying. Neville was terrified to go near a broom. Harry had a best friend, and seemed to attract people without even trying. Neville had a toad, and seemed to be forgotten. And after the troll incident tonight, Harry had become a hero. Neville was a nothing.

He knew Hermione had been in the bathroom crying. He'd overheard Lavender and Parvati talking at dinner. He'd also known that her reaction had been caused by Ron's comment that nobody liked her. Neville knew what he should have done. He should have gone to her and told her that Ron was a git, and that she should ignore him. He should have told her that he was her friend.

Instead, he'd been thinking about why Harry seemed to want nothing to do with him. When Professor Quirrell had burst through the door, ranting about a troll, Neville hadn't thought twice about Harry or Hermione. He had gone running to Percy, who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. He had dutifully followed the prefect up to Gryffindor Tower and through the Fat Lady's portrait. It wasn't until he was into his second game of Exploding Snap with Dean that he'd remembered Hermione.

But Harry hadn't forgotten.

No, Harry and Ron had shown their Gryffindor courage that night. Neville sat quietly as he heard his classmates' story, his emotions mixed. He was eternally grateful Ron and Harry had saved Hermione's life, but it seemed that the incident had now bonded the trio. And as Neville went to bed that night, he felt more alone than ever.

*****

Neville continued to brood about his plight for the next several days. The entire house seemed to be whispering Harry's name. If they weren't amazed at his battle with the troll, they were talking about his skills on the broom. Oliver Wood had been simply glowing when the team came back from practice on Monday night. Hermione sat with Harry every night to help him with the studying he missed while at practice. It seemed she no longer had time to help Neville.

On Wednesday night, Neville had had enough. He slammed his Transfiguration book shut, grabbed his quill, ink and toad, and went up to his room. He dropped his things in his trunk and flopped on his bed.

He rolled sideways on his bed, allowing his feet to dangle off one side while he lazily sorted through his trunk. He picked up his Remembrall, and held it tightly. After a few seconds the smoke turned red. Neville thought hard about what it was he had forgotten. His essays for Charms and History of Magic were done. Aside from the Transfiguration project from which he had decided to take a break, all of his homework was complete. But still the bauble glowed.

He began to pick through his trunk and he eventually came to his birthday book. When he lifted it out of his trunk, the Remembrall cleared. Neville had been thinking that he had no one at Hogwarts to talk to. Now he remembered he did have someone who would listen.

Neville rose from the bed and locked the door. He hadn't opened the book since Percy had caught him talking to it on his first day at school, and Percy had looked at him as if he were a nutter for talking to the book. He didn't want to pass that image on to his dormitory mates.

He sat back down on his bed and opened the book. The familiar visages of Gramps and Professor Dumbledore stared back at him.

"How are you, child?" Gramps asked.

"Not very well. I'm really lonely. Everybody else seems to have a best mate, and I'm sort of... left over."

"What would you do with a best mate?"

The question caught Neville by surprise. He had never had a best friend before, so he really didn't know what best friends did. The closest people to him were Gran and Aunt Enid. "I...I guess I'd eat with him in the Great Hall, and sit with him in class. And maybe have adventures with him. I don't know."

"Who would you want as your best mate?"

Neville shrugged his shoulders. He racked his brain to think of someone who might fit his vague parameters but no one came to mind. "Well, the person who has done the most for me is Hermione. But since she's a girl, she can't be my best mate, can she?"

The picture of Gramps laughed. "Maybe someday. But for right now, you're probably right."

"Anyway, I think she would rather be best mates with other people now."

Gramps' tone became more serious. "Child, are you friends with any of the people you know?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I think I am, but other times they don't seem to want me around. I'm confused."

Gramps nodded. "Some people hit it off right away, have a brief friendship and then forget each other. Others take a good long while, and only then understand each other, and form a bond that is unbreakable. Take your time. Be everybody's best mate. But don't think you have to be the strongest or most clever. People will like you for who you are. Don't try too hard, and don't try to make someone like you. Just be there when they need you.

"Remember, treat everyone the way you would want to be treated. You can't control how other people think and feel, but you can control what you put out into the world. Be yourself, and let people know you for you. And if others can't or won't appreciate you, then move on.

"As much as you may crave the approval of your housemates, remember there are other students at Hogwarts. It's entirely possible your future best mate is in another house. Or in another year. Don't close your mind. Be open to the possibilities around you."

Neville closed the book and reflected on his first two months at Hogwarts. Aside from the Slytherin first-years, no one appeared to wish him harm. The only teacher who seemed to disapprove of him despite his many mishaps was Professor Snape, and he didn't seem to like any of the Gryffindors. Even Fred and George's pranks seemed mild when compared to Uncle Algie's antics. Neville thought about Aunt Enid. Everybody seemed to like her. Tom at St. Mungo's also attracted friends with ease.

Neville began to feel a little better about his situation. With a small sigh, he returned to his Transfiguration essay and the final six inches he needed to finish before the next day's class.

*****

On Saturday, the Quidditch season started. Neville had followed the sport for the last several years on the Wizarding Wireless Network, but had never been to a live game before. Gran had always felt the risk of a wild Bludger outweighed the enjoyment of the competition.

Unlike Ron and Seamus who were fiercely devoted to their teams, Neville had never become fanatical about one team or the other. When pressed, he claimed the Appleby Arrows as his team, but that was more due to the Arrows being the closest team to Lancashire, than any commitment on his part. Neither Dean nor Harry claimed a team at all, although Dean was fond of the football team from West Ham.

At breakfast Harry seemed extraordinarily nervous, and Seamus hadn't helped by expounding on what often happened to Seekers, the position Harry was going to play for Gryffindor. After Harry pushed his almost full plate away and left the Great Hall, his roommates went to work.

Ron's rat, Scabbers, had destroyed several sheets by chewing through them when left alone. Dean grabbed one of the ruined linens and capitalized on his brilliant idea of putting up a banner to cheer Harry on. After Harry left for the changing rooms, the four boys quickly got to work. Dean drew a brilliant lion, and while Ron helped him to color it in, Neville and Seamus wrote the words "Potter for President" in large block letters.

The rest of Gryffindor house agreed the banner was perfect. All of the students went down to the pitch en masse, as much to hide the banner from prying Slytherin eyes who might seek to destroy it. When the students reached their viewing tower, Dean and Seamus raised the banner, and Hermione enchanted the words so the flashed different colors like a Christmas tree.

The teams burst onto the pitch, announced by Lee Jordan, the Hogwarts Quidditch commentator. Harry was the last one announced and was greeted with enormous cheers from three quarters of the stands. Neville had put aside Harry's perceived slight and roared wholeheartedly for the first-year. There was electricity in the air, as everyone was anxious to see if the youngest Hogwarts Quidditch player in a century could live up to his promise.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game started. Neville was amazed at the speed of the game. When he listened at home on the WWN he thought he could visualize the action in his mind. Now he realized that the announcers left out three-quarters of the moves, passes and shots, and focused on only the most important plays.

Lee's commentary was far more biased than any he had heard on the WWN. However, since it was slanted in Gryffindor's favor, no one around Neville seemed to mind. Not long after the match started, Hagrid joined the Gryffindor students, and everyone was cheering as Gryffindor shot out to an early lead.

But shortly after Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint was called for Blatching, Harry's broom started to jerk out of control. At first no one saw anything, but when the Slytherin tower erupted into laughter at Harry's expense, everyone noticed. And when Harry slipped off the broom, hanging only by one hand, the entire school was hushed by the seriousness of the situation.

For his part Neville couldn't bear to watch. Less than a week before he was upset with Harry for shunning him. Now, fearing Harry was about to be seriously hurt, or even die, the guilt was overwhelming. He shoved his face into Hagrid's coat and refused to look. Finally, after several nerve-wracking minutes, Ron told him he could look again. Harry's broom had stopped its rebellion and Harry remounted it and rejoined the game.

Neville looked up just in time to see Harry go into a dive. For just a moment, he thought Harry's broom was trying to kill him again. Then he realized that Harry had seen the Golden Snitch, and an instant later, Harry had caught the Snitch in his mouth and Gryffindor had won the game.

*****

It wasn't long before the triumph of the Quidditch match faded, and soon Neville found himself too busy to worry about Harry, brooms or best mates. Each teacher seemed to be piling on more and more assignments. Although most weren't due until after the Christmas holiday, much of the research for the projects had to be done before the students left.

Hermione seemed ever-present in the library. If she wasn't doing her own projects, she was helping Neville get his own information in order, or tearing through ancient tomes for Ron and Harry. Neville would often see the three of them huddling at one of the back tables, whispering excitedly. But whenever he walked over, they would get very quiet. Neville was wondering if they were talking about him. Tired of being left out, he could hardly wait for the holiday break.

The break came quickly enough. Neville had purchased his round-trip ticket for the Hogwarts' Express at his earliest opportunity. And when December the twenty-third arrived, he was the first one in the dormitory packed and ready to go. Both Ron and Harry were staying at Hogwarts for the break, and Neville promised to bring both of them back some sweets if he could convince his grandmother to make a trip to Diagon Alley.

There was just one item Neville couldn't find. Trevor.

He had seen the toad the night before when he went to bed. Trevor was sitting in the window sill, gazing down at the snow-covered grounds below. But when Neville woke up, Trevor was missing from his perch. After he had closed and locked his trunk, he began to search for his pet.

It was nearing ten, and Neville had been searching for nearly an hour. He knew time was running short. The carriages that would take him to Hogsmeade Station were due to leave at ten-thirty sharp so the train could make its eleven o'clock departure. But Trevor still hadn't managed to turn up. He had searched all of Gryffindor Tower, except the girls' dormitories, without success.

Neville sat down in front of the fire and cleared his mind. He focused his thoughts on what Professor Kettleburn had said, and sought out the connection with his familiar. He felt a sort of fog enter his mind, and when it cleared, he realized he was seeing through Trevor's eyes.

It was amazing. The world looked ten times as high to Neville now. He also found that he could see almost all the way around without turning his head. He looked around with his new sight, and realized where the toad was. He broke the connection and raced out of the portrait hole.

Neville practically flew down the flights of stairs leading to the first-floor. It'll be close, he thought. Just over five minutes to pick up Trevor, head down one more flight of stairs, and catch the carriages and train home. He reached his destination. He had seen this girls' lavatory on several occasions, and wondered why it was always out of order. The door was ajar, so he knocked as he cautiously made his way in.

"Hello? Anybody in here?" His voice echoed through the bathroom. He sought out the connection with Trevor again, and found he could see his own feet from under the third stall on the left. He broke the connection and went to the stall. He opened the door and reached down to pick up Trevor.

Neville was looking at his toad as he turned to go. But before he left the stall, he felt a presence, and out of nowhere he heard a voice scream at him, "What are you doing here? You're not a girl!" He screamed and backed away, taken by surprise. He stepped back on his own robe, and fell backwards, rapping his head on the toilet and knocking himself unconscious.

Neville awoke in the infirmary, looking into the anxious glances of Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, and his grandmother.

*****

Neville was glad to be back at Longbottom Manor. Unlike his 'nobody' status in the Gryffindor common room, he was the center of attention in his family's living room. He answered all of the questions Enid asked him about his classes. He told Algie everything about his friends and dormitory mates, including his experiences with the Boy Who Lived. In fact, the only thing he didn't talk about was his brush with the three-headed dog.

Christmas morning came and he opened his presents. Gran had given him enough clothes to make up an entire new wardrobe considering he had grown three inches since the previous Yule. Enid had given him a set of Gobstones, magically charmed to return to their bag at the end of each game so they wouldn't get lost. But it was Algie's present that both frightened and exhilarated the child.

Neville sat staring at the enormous box in front of him. He wasn't allowed to open it until everything else was unwrapped. Finally everyone else was finished and he unwrapped the paper. Then he took the lid off the box and stared at the item in confusion.

What he saw was a brand-new broom. He took it out of the box timidly and looked at the name on the handle. Shooting Star 700. He looked at Algie and then Gran. He didn't know what to say.

"Now, Neville," Algie started, "we all heard about your accident at school, but I think we sorted out what the issue was. Both of the brooms you tried to ride, my old Cleansweep and the raggedy thing at school, are old as dirt and have been used by far too many people. This one hasn't been ridden at all, so you should be able to start off with a clean slate."

Gran interrupted. "Even with that being the case, along with the fact that you are not allowed to have a broom at school, you won't be allowed to ride this broom until summer. In addition, you must still attain some modicum of success with a broom at school. And to achieve this, the school has agreed to give you individual flying lessons."

"It is important you learn how to fly," Enid continued. "Look at how we wizards travel. We Apparate, but in order to do that we have to know precisely where we are going. We use the Floo, but that is useless if the destination isn't near a fireplace on the network. The Knight Bus is a difficult and often time-consuming method, and should only be used when you have no other option. And aside from magic carpets, which are illegal in England, and brooms, your only other option is to travel like a Muggle. It really is important that you learn how to fly."

Neville swallowed, and looked back at the broom. It might not be as flashy as Harry's Nimbus 2000, but it was worlds better then either Algie's broom or any of the brooms at school. The handle was highly polished, and the bristles were tightly packed, and perfectly in place.

He took the broom out of the box and grasped it with both hands. He swung a leg over it and sat down tentatively. This broom seemed more inviting. And Neville couldn't see how, but he felt more comfortable sitting on it, as if it formed something of a seat.

"Now this broom isn't built for speed or tricks, so it's not great for Quidditch," said Algie. "But it should be ideal for you to learn and get more confident in your flying. Plus it's a good travel broom. The wider bristles in back make it easier to load a trunk onto."

Neville dismounted and put the broom back in its box. If flying meant so much to his family, no matter what was required, he would learn how to fly.

*****

Gran accompanied Neville back to Hogwarts in order to arrange his flying lessons with Madam Hooch. They took the Knight Bus, and much as Enid had said, it was a difficult journey. On top of the trip, Neville was mortified that his grandmother was coming to school with him. His only hope lay in the fact they were arriving at Hogwarts a day before the train was due to get in. He really didn't want the other students to see him with his grandmother for fear of the teasing that might result. And as they walked through the corridors, Neville followed several paces behind, hoping the few students present wouldn't associate the formidable woman with the timid student.

Gran's first stop was the office of the flying instructor, Madam Hooch. Neville waited outside the office as his private lessons were prepared, and when the door opened, he was certain he could see a playful smirk on the teacher's face. Gran then set off for Professor McGonagall's office. Neville had to endure an uncomfortable moment as his teacher and his guardian discussed his work in front of him, but it was over soon enough. Gran gave him a hug and sent him on his way, releasing her grandson back into the environs of the school.