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(Enchanting Melodies) Chapter 50: Of Rage and Jealousy
🕑 Added 2023-04-21 14:23:10 +0000 UTCChapter 50: Of Rage and Jealousy
3 March 1992, Hogwarts
Neville Longbottom hated Harry Potter. Everyone knew that, especially his friends. Ron didn’t understand it but accepted it because he was a Slytherin. Hermione really disapproved of it, especially considering how Potter rarely provoked him.
Even Neville didn’t really understand it at first. When he had met Ron in the Hogwarts Express, they became fast friends. They just clicked together. Well, Neville might have latched into him a little, when he rarely interacted with people his age before.
His grandmother, Augusta, had practically locked him away in a mansion for all his life, allowing only his family members to visit. After losing her son and her daughter-in-law, she was desperate in protecting her only grandson. The only contact with the outside world he had was with family, like his great-uncle Algie and his wife, who were delighted that House Longbottom had a hero of his caliber and fame, that would be in the annals of history.
Because Neville had destroyed the Dark Lord when he was a baby, so they all wondered what he would become when he was fully trained. Greatness was expected of him, and every day, he could see their enthusiasm lessen, as he showed them how normal he really was.
He wasn’t a genius, outside of Herbology that is. He is pretty strong for his age, but not that much stronger than his own father, according to his grandmother that is. He wasn’t Merlin reborn, like everyone expected him to be. Oh, he wasn’t a bad student, not at all. He was in the upper bracket in all his classes, and practical magic came easier to him than most. But every day, he could see the hope in his professors’ eyes dim slightly, especially with someone like Potter showing him up.
Neville didn’t know why he immediately disliked the Slytherin. He never insulted him, he never hexed him, and he never laughed at Malfoy’s jokes. But it was the constant comparison to him that angered him. ‘You have a trouble with this spell? Potter got it in ten minutes, why can’t you?’
It was the same everywhere. Even his grandmother sent him letter telling him to be more like the young Slytherin. And they were supposed to be brothers in everything but blood. Neville’s grandmother had told him tales of the brave James Potter, the fiery Lily Potter who fought alongside his parents against the terrible Dark Lord. They were so close that his mother was Neville’s godmother, and Neville’s mother was his godmother. If one of them had survived, they would have probably been raised together as brothers. And so, Neville had expected Potter to be the same. To be together in Gryffindor, hang out, become fearsome fighters against the Dark.
When Potter was sorted into Slytherin of all places, Neville took it as a personal betrayal of his hopes of having a brother, a betrayal to his own family that fought the parents of the people he shared a dormitory with, and a betrayal to everything Neville’s parents died for. But he elected to suppress the hurt he felt. He pushed it down, but with every achievement, every congratulation Potter got from the teachers, it kept boiling on and on, until it turned into hatred.
Neville Longbottom hated Harry Potter with all his heart. It didn’t help that the other boy was just aloof all the time. He just hung out with his friends in Slytherin but ignored Neville completely. He had to instigate anything to get Potter to react, and it never ended up well for the boy who lived.
He just ignored their bond, their supposed brotherhood, for no reason. He never gave Neville the time of day, and that made Neville want to blow things up. Oh, Neville hated Malfoy, for being the son of a Death Eater, for insulting him and his family, for using Snape to punish him, but at least he reacted to him. Potter just stays silent, raises an eyebrow or snorts in amusements, and just leaves. Even when Neville had told him about their relation, Potter just didn’t care. He didn’t react.
At first, Neville ignored it, he was already busy with finding out who Nicholas Flamel was, and his Quidditch practice. Well, Hermione had ended up finding Flamel in an Alchemy schoolbook of all things, and they had discovered that the third-floor corridor was hiding the Philosopher’s Stone, an artifact capable of creating endless riches and providing an elixir of immortality.
And well, Quidditch was a lost cause with Snape being the referee. Their hopes were on Neville finding the snitch early, and that simply hadn’t happened. He didn’t have a stroke of luck like in the Slytherin match, and accidentally swallow the snitch. Diggory was the one who ended up catching the snitch, in a match that absolutely destroyed Gryffindor’s chances at winning the Quidditch cup.
That resulted in Neville just being angry all the time. Wood stopped their endless training sessions, and the mystery of the forbidden corridor was solved. He, soon, found something else to preoccupy himself with. Hagrid had hatched a Dragon, and Neville took it upon himself to sneak the fire-breathing reptile to a dragon reserve in Bulgaria where Charlie, Ron’s brother, worked at. Unfortunately, Malfoy ended up finding out about the entire thing and told on them to McGonagall.
Yeah, being discovered doing something that could land the average wizard a stay in Azkaban was not a good idea. Dumbledore was able to send the Dragon to the reserve, and fixed the situation, but they were all given detention every day until the end of the year. And worst of all, they called their guardians. Hermione was in tears after a letter from her parents came through, and Ron’s mother had shaken the castle yelling at him. Neville’s grandmother on the other hand just gave him a disappointed look and told him that his parents would have been ashamed of him. She even threatened to take him out of Hogwarts and get taught privately in their mansion.
He tried to do the right thing. Why couldn’t they all see it? He tried to save a friend, and no one would have gotten hurt if it wasn’t for Malfoy. It wasn’t his fault, and that was the last straw. Neville was angry. Hogwarts slowly stopped feeling like home and more like a prison. And with all that rage inside of him, he chose to take it out on the Slytherins. They were acceptable targets, right? Well, not according to Hermione, who practically stopped talking to him altogether.
He tried to corner Potter multiple times, but he would just not respond. He would ignore him and his friends, and it was driving him insane. He kept going at it, again and again, until Potter finally retaliated, which landed them to this hellish detention.
Neville trusted Hagrid, he really did, but serving detention in the forbidden forest was a monumentally stupid idea. He didn’t really understand Harry’s aversion to someone killing a unicorn, but when he first saw it, he could understand why such an action was being so disturbing. With only Potter at his side, Neville saw a cloaked figure drinking the blood of a unicorn. It was wrong on so many levels, but Neville didn’t have time to focus on it, because a pain like he'd never felt before pierced his head; it was as though his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backward, and could do nothing but yell in pain.
The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Neville-- unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Neville-- he couldn't move for fear. Fang, Hagrid’s dog, was nowhere to be found. It probably ran away from the cloaked monster.
And while the Longbottom scion stayed unmoved from his panic and the pain from his scar. He barely saw the sickly green spell coming at him until Potter tackled him out of the way. That was a killing curse; he recognized it from the nightmares that haunted his sleep. Potter had just saved his life.
He didn’t even have time to process it because of the pain, but Potter seemed to send spell after spell at the figure who weaved its way out of it without any problem. Potter even sent a bolt of lightning of all things at the figure who was able to counter somehow. Was the Slytherin holding back that much against him. Neville did not know, but he was outclassed by the unicorn slayer, nonetheless.
Finally, Potter ended up being banished away, his wand slipping from his fingers, away from any trouble. The figure slowly walked towards the boy who lived who was trembling in fear and pain with ever step the monster took.
At least, that was until he saw Potter run towards them without his wand in his hand. And yet he was different somehow. His eyes were glowing like emerald flames, the magic in the air was so powerful that Neville could taste it.
Potter wasn’t holding his wand, but he looked intimidating even without it. The cloaked figure froze in its steps as well. The student and the monster stared at each other for what felt like minutes, until the cloaked man moved to attack, where Potter just held out his hand and a circle of weird symbols floated in the air, glowing in white. The young Slytherin was murmuring in a language that Neville simply didn’t understand, and as he spoke the circle looked more stable with every syllable to boy spoke, with some kind of black bird being in the center of it. When the cloak was inches in front of Harry, he moved his hands and spoke with a deep voice, “BEGONE!”
A sphere of white magic simple banished the cloaked figure away and the forest seemed to be clearer in a way. It was like there was this tension present ever since they stepped foot inside that was lifted away from Potter’s spell. The boy who lived looked at his supposed rival in fear and awe. For the first time since the encounter, the Slytherin turned towards the Longbottom scion who flinched at the hard gaze. Before he could do anything, he spoke in the same deep voice, “FORGET!”, and everything turned black.
When Neville woke up, he was still in the forest. He was next to an unconscious Potter. Wait a minute, what had happened to them. Oh, yes, the cloaked figure that was killing the unicorns. Potter saved him from a killing curse, fought it, and lost badly. Then what happened? Where was the cloaked figure now? All he remembered was the blinding pain in his scar. Hell he was still in pain.
It took a minute or two for the pain to subside and be able to think clearly. When he looked up, there centaur was standing over him asking softly, “Are you alright?”
"Yes -- thank you -- what was that?" Neville asked.
The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Neville, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Neville’s forehead.
"You are the Longbottom boy," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time -- especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.”
“Yes, but my friend is hurt!”
The centaur looked at the unconscious Slytherin and murmured, “He used too much magic. He’ll be alright in a few days. Make sure you hold him tight so that he doesn’t get hurt. My name is Firenze, by the way.”
The rest of the way was far less eventful. Firenze ended up having an argument with another centaur called Bane. Something about interfering with the stars or something. Neville was too tired to care. When they arrived at the edge of the forest, Firenze lowered, allowing the two boys to get down.
Neville asked, “Firenze, what was the thing drinking the unicorn’s blood?”
"Neville Longbottom, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"
“I don’t know. Potter said something about it being an abomination and being cursed.”
“He’s a wise boy, you friend,” the centaur remarked, “it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn. Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips.”
Neville stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight.
"But who'd be that desperate?" he wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, deaths better, isn't it?"
"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else -- something that will bring you back to full strength and power -- something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Longbottom, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"
"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course -- the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who --"
"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"
Neville shivered in fear, “No, he’s dead. I killed him when I was a baby. It’s impossible.”
“In this world of magic and wonder, very few things are impossible, young Longbottom.”
Before he could ask anything, he was accosted by Hagrid, Hermione, and Ron. After reassuring them that he was alright, he turned to thank the centaur, only to find out that it was gone. First, he needed to get Potter to an infirmary, then he needed to tell his friends about what happened after they go back to the common room. He needed to be discreate. His grandmother can never know; she would take him out of school in fear of him getting hurt.
As for Potter, perhaps Neville had misjudged him. He might have been a Slytherin, but he had saved his life. He had to acknowledge that debt after all. He needed to think on what to do later. You-Know-Who’s possible return was a far more important issue than Potter, after all.
Comments
athass_prkr
It's a little more complicated than that, but I don't want to spoil much
Fernzyyyy
Peverell blood must be OP in this version on HP
