Thick Walls, Thicker Bonds

Chapter Four

Augusta Longbottom was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. She knew that Neville wasn't the Prophecy child. She'd hoped, oh how she hoped, that some honour would come from the Longbottom Line. She'd been so proud when Frank had made Auror, then married a respectable pureblood wife, even if she was just a Prewitt. When their first born had been a son, and then she'd heard the prophecy, she was sure it was finally time for the Longbottoms to take the spot light.

But then Frank and Alice had been attacked. Now they were babbling in St Mungos, insane. And she'd been left to rear up Neville as the Potter child was hailed as the Boy-Who-Lived, Vanquisher of Voldemort. Years passed, and Neville showed no signs of accidental magic. Not once until he was bodily thrown out an upper story window. When Hogwarts rolled around and Harry Potter was a no show, Neville suddenly became the "Prophecy Child", since the Boy-Who-Lived was missing. Possibly dead. Of course, at first People simply assumed that the Prophecy had already been completed, since Voldemort had vanished. That is, until Voldemort was supposedly spotted by Neville just before managing to steal something called the Philosopher's Stone.

Then people started asking why Neville was in Hufflepuff, and why his grades were so low, and why he hadn't been able to stop Voldemort from stealing the stone. Augusta had hired tutors, all of them saying that the boy was hopelessly incompetent. All except his Herbology tutors, who claimed him a prodigy.

So, imagine her surprise when she read the newspaper headline the next morning.

"Prophecy Child Saves Bystanders in Diagon Alley!"

She almost spat out her tea. Neville? She quickly scanned through the passage. Supposedly, Neville had summoned up a shield, protecting himself and those around him, from the fire of a Swedish Short-Snout that was being transferred to Diagon Alley from a reserve for one Lord Goyle. Augusta rolled her eyes. That Goyle never did have two brain cells to rub together. But, not only that, but he managed to wordlessly put it to sleep, allowing the Aurors to apparate away to Goyle Manor with their delivery. Then the most alarming piece of information:

"Neville Longbottom was then seen spirited away by a tall, handsome stranger from the scene of the drama. Who was this man? A tutor for our previously hopeless 'saviour'? A family member? Rumors of seeing them around town the rest of the day, in various stores as well as the famous Accellerando's restaurant in wizarding London."

Augusta's eyes narrowed. The boy had been taking lessons? From who? "NEVILLE!" She screeched.

***1047***

Sammael was very much reminded of Godric in one Neville Longbottom. It was a little bit of everything, really. From his baggy clothing, to the bright, innocent look in his wide, baby blue eyes. Only, Neville seemed…well, a tad quieter than Sammael's dear Uncle. No, the boy was downright crushed. Sammael had been pleased to find that, once the boy opened up, he had a delicious sense of mischievousness, as well as a healthy dose of adventure-loving. His eyes lit up when he spoke about Herbology, and his gardens. He almost glowed whenever Sammael addressed him by "cousin" or complimented his knowledge on plants.

But he wasn't just knowledgeable about Herbology, oh no. He knew almost every curse, jinx, charm and it's counter. He could recite potion recipes by heart. He adored learning about magical creatures, and he had a good grasp on Divination (something that both surprised and amused Sammael, who had little faith in that particular art.) Only, Neville had never been able to "do anything right", according to the boy himself. His dismal previous wandwork could all be chalked up to using a wand that didn't like him. However, the Potions Professor at Hogwarts frightened Neville (so much so that his boggart was a replica of the man scowling at him). So obviously the boy would do poorly. In Care of Magical Creatures, he always messed up, because of nerves since the professor had them demonstrate in front of everybody.