It was ten o'clock at night. Powerful thunder and lightning rang out every few seconds, causing the windows to shake. The house was completely dark except for one tiny lantern light barely shining through the thick darkness. As he moved in closer, the scene emerged to show Neville Longbottom enjoying a night tea-time with his grandmother. The man slid closer to the opening leading into the kitchen, keeping pressed close to the wall and listening intently.

"…and Bathilda never looked quite right again!" Neville's gran finished, taking one last polite sip of her tea.

"Wow…I never thought knitting needles could be that dangerous," Neville replied plainly, clearly uninterested in listening to never-ending stories about simple sewing mishaps.

"Oh, Neville, lighten up," Gran scolded, tapping Neville's nose with a tea spoon. "If you're so bored, why don't you tell me a story, hmm?"

Neville sighed deeply. "Uh, okay…" He racked his brains for an interesting and action-packed tale from school that would 'wow' his grandmother.

"Ha, I've got one!" Neville exclaimed. He cleared his throat before proceeding. "So, remember how I was a part of Dumbledore's Army at school this year?"

Oh yes, Gran thought, how the hell could I forget? Dumbledore's Army was all Neville talked about in his letters home this school year. Ugh. She nodded.

"Well…Harry Potter," Neville emphasized proudly, "asked me to go to the Ministry with him in order to fight Death Eaters!"

Gran stared back at Neville blankly with a distinct feeling that she'd heard that story before…many times before. The man hiding behind the wall fixed his ears more precisely on the words being said.

"Right," Gran said skeptically. "But from what I gathered from Dumbledore as well as your friends and the Prophet, you were the one that dropped the Prophecy and almost completely ruined the mission, am I correct?"

Neville blushed deeply, placed his teacup on a saucer in front of him, then sulked up the stairs to his room. "Nothing interesting ever happens around here…"

As soon as Neville was out of sight, Voldemort jumped out from his hiding place behind the kitchen's wall. "AHA!"

Gran jumped up from her seat, knocking it over on the floor. She took her wand from a pocket in her skirt. "I knew you'd be here, Tom," she said menacingly. "I knew you'd come back for it!"

"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort shouted, accidentally blasting one of Gran's china teacups.

Gran looked down at her smashed china, blown to pieces and scattered all over the floor. "YOU'VE GONE TOO FAR!"

"GIVE IT TO ME, LONGBOTTOM!" Voldemort commanded. "GIVE ME THE TEA RECIPE!"

"NO!"

Gran ran outside, Voldemort sprinting after her as the spells continued to fly in an elaborate light show. Neville descended from the stairs, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He spotted the wreckage on the ground.

"WHA—?!"