Becoming A Lion

Becoming a Lion

Neville Longbottom stood at the portrait of the Fat Lady, wrapped in an invisibility cloak. It comforted him like a warm blanket; it's softness against his skin reassured him. No one can see you, Neville thought, and it was this that calmed him down. If no one can see you, they can't say anything. Neville took a deep breath, trying to remain composed. This night would take all of his courage, which then might not be enough. He was steeling himself for what was to come, and he was anxiously hoping he was up to the task.

Neville moved swiftly through the halls of Hogwarts, not really watching what he was doing. He was relying on blind luck to see him safely to his destination, which was not the wisest course of action. Then again, Neville wasn't really the sharpest tack in the set, or so Snape had said to him yesterday in Potions. Neville bristled at the memory of Snape scolding him, and he used this to steel himself further. No more disrespect, Neville thought savagely. I'll show them you can't mess with Neville Longbottom. Neville almost laughed aloud as he thought this. He was practically talking to himself, and more importantly, he was trying to convince himself that he could perform this task. Would he have the strength? The Gryffindor courage that managed to land him in his house? Neville never thought he was sorted into the right house, but tonight was the night to prove that he had the boldness and the daring to be in Gryffindor. His use of that courage, however, may not be indicative of his house...

Neville stole into the dungeons, walking as quickly as possible. His breath was puffing out in the air, almost like the smoke that emitted from an angry dragon. Of course, Neville never considered himself a dragon. Perhaps a flobberworm or a toad. Or maybe some sort of ant. Yes, that was what he was. An ant. An ant scrambling to escape the feet that are hell-bent on squishing the life out of him. No, stop that, Neville thought angrily. You can be a dragon. Be the dragon, Neville. Be the fierce lion you know you are. He took a deep breath, and then walked through a portrait of Melvin the Malicious. He was in a secret room, one that he had discovered when Draco Malfoy shoved him against the wall. Of course, Malfoy had taken the credit of discovering it, but it was Neville who crashed through the painting and slammed his head on the cold stone floor. Malfoy could take the credit if he wanted, but Neville knew the truth. The secret room was his.

"It's about time, Longbottom," a voice drawled in the Longbottom Chamber of Secrets, and Neville took a breath to calm his nerves. He was about to dance with someone who truly was a dragon, and it would take all of his wits to be able to complete his task.

"Hello, Draco," his voice squeaked out, perhaps too squeakily. He needed to sound tougher, more forceful, but when it got right down to it, Neville did not feel tough or forceful. He felt rather weak in the knees, and he definitely was on the verge of throwing up.

"Call me Malfoy, Longbottom. You aren't my equal, and so I'd rather you use my family name," Draco Malfoy drawled. He was standing over a steaming cauldron, one that was bubbling with water. "I've prepared everything."

"Good. You have all the ingredients?" Neville whispered, although his voice was still rather high pitched.

"Of course, you ninny. Only an idiot or a Mudblood could mess up getting ingredients."

"Ok, I brought the instructions," Neville whispered, slamming Most Potente Potions onto a small table next to the cauldron.

"Good work Longbottom. How'd you get past that old vulture in the library?"

"Don't worry about it," Neville said, in an almost desperate attempt to sound mysterious. Draco merely laughed.

"Right. You probably had Granger do it. You never were one for direct action." Neville ignored Draco's comment, but also was remarkably frightened by how accurate Draco had been. Perhaps he wasn't just the Slytherin bully. He was incredibly smart. Or maybe a better word for it was cunning. Whatever the case, at least he fit into his house. At least he was worthy of the silver serpent that resided in Slytherin House.

"I said don't worry about it, Malfoy," Neville said, better hiding the fear in his voice. Draco shrugged, and flipped open the potions book.

"Now are you sure you're ready to do this?"

"Of course. I'm here aren't I?" Neville avoided Draco's glance. He hoped that perceptive eye of his wouldn't see that Neville was more than ready to do what he planned.

"Good. Now, this potion is very complicated, so let me take care of it."

"NO!" Neville shouted. Draco looked taken aback, and in a desperate moment, Neville realized that he was risking everything. "Let me do it. Everyone says I'm bad at potions, and for once I'll prove them wrong."

"I like the new you, Longbottom," Draco said appraisingly. "You are full of surprises. So remind me, why are we poisoning Potter again? I know why I'm here." Draco rolled up his sleeves, ready to do his work, but also not so subtly flashing the Dark Mark that was seared into his arm.

"Because I'm sick of being in his shadow," Neville said darkly. "He gets all of the attention, all of the fame, only because he got lucky as a baby." Neville shuddered, and looked at the potion. "Now hand me the ingredients."

Neville slaved over the potion, following the instructions to the letter. He had nearly ruined the potion several times, and at the last minute he managed to save himself, without the help of Malfoy. Draco merely handed Neville the right ingredients, yawning and looking at his watch. How could he be so calm in the face of murder, Neville wondered, stirring the cauldron counter-clockwise. It was if he had done this before, which certainly wasn't true for Neville. He had never killed anyone before. But he hadn't talked to Malfoy either, nor had he ever worked with him on a potion. Tonight was a night of firsts.

"Ok, the poison should be ready," Malfoy said, looking into the cauldron. The brew was as clear as water, and just as liquid. It was perfect, the perfect potion, the first one that Neville had ever managed to set right. Neville dipped two beakers into the mixture, and stopped them with a cork.

"You forgot to seal them with the incantantion," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "That stuff will only make them sleepy if you don't seal it." Malfoy pointed his wand at the two beakers, and uttered the incantation. The liquid beakers hissed green, and then settled into its natural clear water.

"I...I knew that," Neville stuttered.

"Of course you did," Malfoy yawned. "Now you only need one of those beakers. Potter may think he's great, but one of those should take him down easily. And remember to put the empty vial next to Weasley's bed, to make it look like he had it. Hey, I have an even better idea. Use the second one on Granger! That way the whole lot of them will be gone. You'd definitely be head of Gryffindor then!" Neville felt a swell of pity, but it wasn't for himself. It was for Draco.

"I need the other one," Neville said.

"Why, Longbottom?"

"To test out," Neville said. He took out a Remembrall which he had recently bought at Hogsmeade. He smiled, appreciating the irony, and looked at Draco. With one quick motion, he smashed it over Draco's head. The glass cut Draco deeply; blood gushed down the side of his head. Neville stole Malfoy's wand, and then worked quickly, pointing the wand at the distracted Draco.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Neville whispered. Draco's body snapped up in the Full-Body Bind, and then collapsed on the ground. Neville pointed the wand at the cauldron. "Evanesco!" The shimmering poision disappeared, revealing an empty, perfectly clean cauldron. He pointed his wand at Draco. "Mobilicorpus!" Draco's body floated in the air. Neville took a small wooden chair out from one of the corners of his chamber, and lowered Draco into it. "Incarcerous!" Ropes flew out of Draco's wand, binding him to the chair. Neville removed the Full-Body Bind, and then looked at his prisoner.

"I'll kill you for this, Longbottom!" Draco spat.

"I don't think so, Draco," Neville said back. He pointed the wand at Draco, feeling years of hurt feelings and hostility rising in him. He wanted to hurt Draco so much.

"When I get out of here..."

"I don't think you get it, Draco. You're going to die here." Neville moved closer to Malfoy, who was struggling against his bindings. "Do you know how it feels to be taunted in front of the entire school? To be made fun of every day of your life? To have no family, no parents, to lean on? It makes you angry. And sad. And it seeps through you like poison. It makes every day hard to live. It makes school harder to do. It makes finding friends and keeping them that much more difficult. You, and your Death Eaters, have ruined my life. And I'm going to make you pay for it."

"Fine, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for making fun of you. Now let me out," Draco said, struggling against the ropes.

"I don't believe you. Nor would I let you out if I did," Neville said, uncorking the poison. "You know how painful this poision is. It's going to rip through your body like acid. It's going to melt your insides, until your nothing but an empty shell. Maybe then you'll understand what you've done to me, and then you'll be fucking sorry." Neville pushed the beaker against Draco's mouth, and forced him to drink it.

"And you won't get to tell anyone about it, Draco, because no one will listen. No one would want to listen. Quietus!" Draco's mouth opened in curses, in threats promised to wreak revenge on Neville. But soon, fear in his eyes, his mouth opened into screams. He strained to escape from his bonds, but they were too tight.

"Now for a visit to our mutual friend, Snape." Neville said, exiting through the portrait of Melvin the Malicious. He considered wrapping himself in the invisibility cloak once again, but this time, he decided against it. He was tired of not being seen. This was his night to emerge, to be the lion that he knew he could be.

***

Harry Potter was with Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor Common room when the portrait hole opened and Professor McGonagall entered, flanked by two wizards that Harry did not recognize. They had a golden badge attached to their robes.

"Why are there Aurors here?" Hermione asked, leaning over to whisper to Harry.

"I have no idea," Harry said, giving Ron a confused look.

"I don't know. Dad didn't say anything to me," Ron responded. The three of them watched as the Aurors walked up into the boys' dormitory. After a few moments of silence, they were seen exiting with Neville Longbottom, who was magically bound with ropes.

"What's going on?" Harry asked Neville, watching as he was being taken out of the Common Room.

"I'm sorry for stealing your invisibility cloak, Harry. I won't be needing it anymore," Neville said.

"What did you do?" Ron asked, his face screwed up in confusion.

"Only become a Gryffindor Lion," Neville said, with a smile on his face. Professor McGonagall shook her head, and followed the Aurors as they escorted Neville out of the room.

"What did he mean by that?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Harry said, watching Neville, and finding that he looked oddly like Peter Pettigrew. Harry felt a cold feeling spread over his body, one of mingled dread and apprehension. "Let's just go to breakfast."

It wasn't long before they learned that Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape were found poisoned, their bodies wasted away as if they hadn't eaten in years. And also, rather mysteriously, Madame Pince had gone missing from the library. It was a ghastly crime, one that would always be remembered as one of the most horrific crimes committed in the halls of Hogwarts. But the most surprising of all was that it was committed by Neville Longbottom, the meek, young student that they all had class with, that they all knew. Perhaps the most mysterious fact of all, at least to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, was that they all seemed to know Neville Longbottom, and yet didn't expect something like this to happen.