The Chosen One [#Wattys2016]

WAND MAGIC

Two hours later, Neville found himself standing in front of the gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office. Professor McGonagall ushered him to the headmaster's study and then left.

Dumbledore secured the office and requested Neville to take a seat. He sat on the opposite side of the desk, peering at the quiet boy over his half-moon spectacles.

"I know how you're feeling," Dumbledore said softly after a moment.

"No, you don't," Neville replied calmly. He couldn't find the energy to get angry at anyone but himself.

He got up and, turning his back to Dumbledore, walked to the windows, from where stared at the trees of the Forbidden Forest through the mullioned glass and black grill. It was there that Avaline and Malfoy had unfolded the mystery of the blonde haired woman. Why wasn't she at the fight that night? Neville wondered. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered now anyway.

"There is no shame in what you are feeling. It shows your immense courage," the headmaster said.

Neville recalled Avaline saying the same thing to him once.

You have to fight fear to possess courage. You're fighting against it, aren't you? You don't know how brave you are.

Why did everyone remind him how brave he was? He didn't want to be brave. He just wanted a normal life with normal parents. But a twist of fate had left him without the closest thing he had had to a parent too. It seemed as though fate was determined to do exactly the opposite of what he wanted. Maybe that was why he wasn't dying when he desperately wanted to.

"I don't want to talk about it, headmaster," Neville said politely and, without being dismissed, left Dumbledore seated. He attempted to open the door, only for it to stay shut.

"Please, let me out," he said. There was the sound of a chair being dragged and footsteps that meant that Dumbledore had gotten up and followed in Neville's wake.

"No, Neville. This is the time to let you know, to answer your questions. I made this mistake of keeping things to myself once and it ended in disaster. It is not in our favour to make those mistakes again."

"Let me out," he said a bit more forcefully. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Why can't you people let me be? What is wrong with you all? Why must I be a pawn to everyone's play? LET - ME - MOURN - IN - PEACE!" he shouted as tears pricked his eyes.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH. I'M NOT LISTENING TO ANYONE. I'M BEST OFF ALONE. THAT WAY, NO ONE GET'S HURT. YOU HEAR ME? NO - ONE - SHOULD - BE - GETTING HURT - BECAUSE OF ME!"

He fell to his knees on the carpet and broke down, not caring that he had disrespected the headmaster, nor bothering about the display of weakness.

"If I thought I could delay this any longer, if I felt that postponing the inevitable was paramount, I would do it, but it isn't. I should have had our talk the moment you started having dreams and visions, but being an old man, I tend to overlook the obvious at times, which is one of my greatest follies."

"How did you - why did I - how could I see them in my dreams? I'm no diviner, am I?" he spoke wearily, wiping his eyes on the arms of his robes.

"No you're not," the headmaster said.

"When Voldemort killed your parents, I believe his wand made a connection with that of your father's. When you were using your father's wand, it recognised your mortal foe and in doing so, his agents who were planning you harm. You were connected to Voldemort by your father's wand, and by extension of the dark mark that all his followers have, to them. So when they unearthed his wand, your wand identified it's magic. It's like a Muggle aerial - it catches waves that are at a certain frequency."