Elementary, Neville

Prologue: A Brief Introduction

(Being the reminiscences of Lord Neville Longbottom as originally published in The Quibbler about his dearest friend, that Most Extraordinary Wizard in whom we are all indebted)

In the years since the end of the Second War against Voldemort, the magical world has undergone many changes for the better. Those of us that fought his evil and lived achieved no small measure of notoriety; some fell into obscurity, some merely faded into the background while others achieved great things. I feel flattered that many count me among the latter for my contributions to the fields of Herbology and Healing. The truth of the matter is that neither I or my former classmates and comrades-in-arms would be where we are today if not for the influence of a truly remarkable man. If it had not been for eleven year-old Harry Potter, my life would have been filled with insecurity and loneliness.

Throughout his life, there have been numerous books and articles written about Lord Harry; from books about the adventures of a young Boy-Who-Lived by authors like that miserable fraud, Gilderoy Lockhart, or the venomous words of the vile Rita Skeeter but none by anyone that knew him. My lovely wife, Luna, thought it was time to change that and who better to correct such a blatant oversight than one of those that knew him best and was there from the beginning. She then henpecked me… I mean persuaded me most gently and lovingly to take up the task of shedding light on the world's enigmatic Consulting Wizard.

Not surprisingly, my wife was correct. The Longbottom and Potter families have allied for generations. My late grandmother spent her remaining years regaling the two us with tales of how the heirs of those Most Ancient and Noble Houses worked together in the past. She often reminded me how our parents had been great friends and that the future Great Gentleman and I often played together from infancy. Gran's favorite story was how, at just a year old, the two of us managed to escape from the playroom at Longbottom Manor when the adults and house-elves were not looking. Apparently, we made it all the way into my father's study and had gotten into his secret cache of Honeyduke's chocolate before we were caught.

Both of our families had gone into hiding from the Dark Lord after that and that would be the last time I was to see dear friend for ten years. It was on the Express that I met Lord Harry again that fateful September 1st. We were on our way to start our first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry not to mention our first Great Adventure; the Curious Case of the Stammering Professor.

Ch. 1: Foreshadowing Things to Come

September 1, 1991

As I stood on Platform 9 ¾ and waited to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, I had no illusions that I was going to be anything but an utter disappointment to my family name. That point had been driven home by my grandmother, Lady Augusta Longbottom nee Croaker, practically every day for the past ten years by always comparing me with my father. Not that she was being deliberately malicious; it was her continuing grief at the loss of my parents (who had been tortured into insanity by the Lestrange's) that made the old witch hypercritical of everything that I did. My lack of any outward signs of accidental magic and her recently developed overprotective nature hadn't helped either.

Only my granduncle, Algernon, believed that I wasn't a squib. It seemed at times that he was a little too eager to torture… um… coax the magic out of me but if it wasn't for Gran's brother then I wouldn't be there on the platform at all. He even bought me my familiar, a toad that I named Trevor. I guess it was his way of saying sorry for dropping me out of that second story window at the manor.

Red-faced, I endured my grandmother's fussing as well as the not so subtle reminders to eat my vegetables and that using my father's wand was an honor so I shouldn't do anything to disgrace his memory. When I was finally able to get onto the train, I let out a sigh of relief to be away from the woman for the next ten months. My tension tripled when I realized that I now needed to find a place to sit among a bunch of strangers. In addition to my self-esteem issues, growing up isolated from others my own age left me incredibly shy. The train was already underway and I still hadn't found a place to sit. One of the Prefects helped me a bit by finding a place for my trunk but that was about it.

I was halfway down the length of the train when I realized that Trevor was missing. A frantic search began and I asked everyone that I met if they'd seen the toad. During the course of my quest, I happened upon a compartment with only two other boys in it. From their ages, I guessed that they were firsties like me. Both turned to me after I slid open the door.

One was a gangly redhead with pasty skin, freckles, blue eyes and carefully mended clothing. He reminded me of the Prefect that helped me and a couple of third years I'd seen further back. The other boy was shorter that other; he had an unruly mop of raven black hair, deep emerald green eyes and a slight tint to his skin that said that he at least spent some time outside. His clothing was entirely muggle; jeans, a t-shirt that had a picture of a funny looking man in scarlet robes and the words "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," an olive toned multi-pocketed jacket and sneakers.

"H-h-have either of you seen a toad," I asked hesitantly. The ginger boy rudely answered in the negative while the other just shook his head no. I was about to leave when he spoke.

"Is the toad your familiar," he inquired then and my nod continued, "Well then, there you have it." I stood there confused as he went back to gazing at the ginger suspiciously.

Still somewhat dazed from the odd encounter, I continued on and eventually ran into a fist year witch that was willing to help. Her name was Hermione Granger, a muggleborn with bushy brown hair, brown eyes and what some would harshly claim were buck-teeth. She was an energetic girl that had the uncontrollable need to impress everyone with her knowledge. The excitable witch was already dressed in her new school robes. After a futile hunt for my missing pet, we found ourselves back at the compartment with the two boys. Ginger looked like he was about to cast a spell on his mangy looking rat. My newfound friend opened the door so we could get a better look at what was about to happen. The spell was obviously someone's idea of a joke but Hermione just had to comment on it.

"Are you sure that was even a real spell? I've already read all of our books for the year and practiced a few of the spells and they seemed to work for me. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and this is Neville Longbottom. I can't wait to get school; which House do you think you'll be sorted into. I'm hoping for Gryffindor – like Dumbledore – but Ravenclaw would be just as good. I didn't even know I was a witch until my letter arrived. Who were you again," she asked. The words tumbled out of her mouth in a single breath.

"Harry Potter and Ron Weasley," the dark haired boy replied as he pointed between himself and the ginger. He then turned away from Hermione as she started to go on about how many books he was in and looked at Ron.

"May I see your rat," he asked with a thoughtful expression.

He held the rat for a second then we were stunned as he grabbed it by the tail and slammed its head into the window stunning it. Next, Harry stood and placed the unconscious animal into his owl's cage next to him.

"Watch that for me, Hedwig, and attack anyone stupid enough to try to take him," he told the bird before he looked at the three of us.

"I know your game, Ron, and you're lucky I don't throw you out the window. If you're still here when I get back then you will find new definitions for the word pain," Harry told the ginger in an icy voice before he turned to us and continued in a friendly tone, "Neville, Hermione, you two are welcome to have a seat, I just need to go speak to the conductor for a moment."

The three of us stared at him in shock as he headed out of the compartment and towards the front of the train. A red faced Ron launched himself at the owl cage only to have his hand bitten by the snowy bird when he was stupid enough to try to grab the rat. He rushed out holding a bleeding hand. I glanced at the dazed witch next to me, shrugged, and then sat down on the bench that the gangly ginger had vacated. My new friend joined me but soon leapt to her feet.

"I can't believe I forgot to ask them if they'd seen your toad," she gasped incredulously.

"You didn't need to; I asked them before I found you. Harry just asked if Trevor was my familiar then dismissed me," I explained and watched as the bushy haired girl palmed her forehead.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that? If Trevor is your familiar then you should be able to find out where he is through the Familiar Bond; at least as long as he's within about a kilometer," Hermione explained, thankfully, before she noticed my puzzled expression.

I was secretly glad nobody else was around to hear our exchange because, while I'm not a Pureblood bigot, it was just too embarrassing to be told about something magical by a muggleborn that I should've already known. Of course, as soon as I concentrated on the bond, Trevor chose that moment to hop into the open compartment and land on my lap. To this day, I still say he gave me a rather toadish smirk than screamed It's about time you figured it out before he climbed into the pocket of my robe.

Harry came back ten minutes later with a look of deep concentration. Without a word, he plopped down onto the empty bench across from Hermione and me. He then put his hands into two of the pockets of his jacked and pulled out a strange cap that had a bill on both the front and back along with a rather large curved yellow meerschaum pipe that had some runes carved around the rim of the bowl. The cap (a deerstalker, Hermione told me) went on his head and the pipe into his mouth after he touched one of the runes. Multi-colored bubbles that smelled like pipe smoke when the burst drifted up from the bowl as its strange owner stared at nothing in particular.

Being the shy, non-confrontational, lad that I was, I just sat back without a word and waited for the train ride to end. The witch next to me seemed to find the silence offensive.

"Why did you take that rat and why were you so mean to Ron," Hermione demanded hotly at the same time the compartment door opened up to reveal the aforementioned boy and three other gingers that could only be his brothers.

"That's something I would like to know as well, Mister Potter," the oldest Weasley boy said from his place beside Ron. He was already in his school robes and a well polished Prefect's badge was pinned to the left breast.

With a look of annoyance, Harry removed the pipe from his mouth replied off-handedly, "The rat is more than it seems and will be staying with me until we reach school then I'll hand it over to the proper authorities. As for your brother, he's a spy… a turncoat… a filthy traitor sent to befriend me and report my every move back to his Master. As the heir of a Most Ancient and Noble House, two Founders and the scion of another Most Ancient and Noble House, I was within my rights to kill the fool or declare a blood feud against your family. He lives as long as he never bothers me again."

My bench mate and I stared in shock at the casual accusation while the Prefect and the ginger twins behind him paled. Ron, however, had the panicked look of a rabbit caught in a snare; something that didn't go unnoticed by me, Harry or Hermione.

"You'd better have evidence to support such lies," the oldest ginger, Percy – we later found out – spat back. The future Lord Harry sighed then gave a curt nod.

"Very well, as you appear to be ignorant of things I'll explain the relevant facts," he began indifferently then continued, "First, after the twins back there helped me with my trunk then told your mother who I was, she told them and Ron not to bother me or ask any impertinent questions. As soon as he was on the train, ickle Ronniekins, came straight to my compartment and asked to sit with me. He lied by saying that everywhere else was full. He then ignored your mother's warning and asked about my scar."

"Second, and by far the most incriminating, he mentioned hearing that I lived with my muggle relatives and asked what it was like. Now since I've got a vested interest in the subject matter, I'm well aware of the tripe printed in those adventure stories about me as well as what is in my official Ministry file. Those stories offer up all sorts of crazy theories about where I was raised but the Ministry file only mentions that I was placed in a secure location by the Chief Warlock. So how would Ron know unless he was told by the very person that tried to abandon me there?

"Third, after he explained about your family, he went on to complain about never getting anything new only hand-me-downs; rat, wand, clothes, etc; and trapped himself in yet another lie. While Percy's robes may be new, they are what the muggle fashion industry refers to as a knock-off. A cheap but quality reproduction of a Madam Malkin design I believe. Now Ron, despite the lovingly handmade jumper, is wearing a new, high-end, dress shirt. His acromantula silk tie and his trousers are also high-end and deliberately designed to look distressed. The shoes are the only part of his kit that looks second hand. Then there is his wand; the chips in it are too symmetrical while the wood looks brand new. The unicorn hairs that poke out from the tip prove that it never belonged to your brother, Charlie, because anyone that works on a Dragon Reserve would have dragon heartstring for a core, even in their first wand.

"And finally, there's the fact that he's standing there looking guilty. I have no problem with you or the twins because from your expressions you didn't know. Keep Ron away from me and everything will be fine. You might want to keep an eye on him as well."

"I see, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll be sure to inform our father, you won't be troubled by Ronald any further," Percy commented thoughtfully after he processed all the information that had been thrust upon all of us. He pulled his youngest brother out of the compartment by his ear while scolding the boy in a low hiss. The twins shot Harry mischievous smirks before they nodded then followed in their brothers' wake.

"How very Sherlock Holmes of you, Harry," Hermione stated dryly after the Weasley's had gone but her eyes held a look of awed bewilderment that was mirrored in my own.

I had the sneaking suspicion that it was going to be an interesting year, and school hadn't even started yet.

The compartment settled back into a much more comfortable silence. I stared out the window while Hermione pulled a book from the inner pocket of her robe to read and Harry continued his contemplations. Our witch friend wasn't fooling anyone because she hadn't turned the page for an hour and her body twitched from the exertion of holding in all the questions that she wanted to ask. While I was just as curious, something told me that Harry Potter was not one to rush or demand explanations from.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful except for when the door to out compartment slid open one more time. A pointy faced boy with slicked back pale blonde hair stood just outside. Two other boys stood behind him glaring and looked like midget trolls. Before the blonde had a chance to speak, Harry kicked the door shut then kept is foot on it to prevent it from being opened again.

"I take it that you knew him," I asked curiously.

"His name is Draco Malfoy, a cousin that until now I've had the good fortune never to meet. My family made sure that I had a dossier on him and his parents," he explained and Hermione looked like she was about to yelling questions at any minute.

Harry was saved from her interrogation when the speakers announced that the train would be arriving at Hogsmead Station in ten minutes. I left to go find my trunk so I could change and Harry grabbed a robe from his trunk and bolted for the loo. The young witch had a calculating look about her and I knew that she wouldn't be denied her answers much longer. The raven haired wizard must have sensed that because he never returned to the compartment.

A giant of a man called out for all the first years to follow him after we stepped onto the platform. He lead us down to the lakeshore and directed us to get into the amassed boats after a warning of no more than four per craft. Hermione climbed in first followed by me, a snotty pug-faced blonde girl, and then Harry. There was a moment of silence when the boats rounded a bend and we all saw Hogwarts for the first time. We got out on a dock not far from the school then Hagrid, the huge man, marched us up to the castle where we were met by a stern looking witch that introduced herself as Professor McGonagall.

AN: So, this was the first chapter of my first HP fic. Next up, the Sorting and more excitement. As far Houses go, I'm thinking about making Hermione a Puff and Lavender Brown a Slytherin. So, what any thoughts on the Neville being Watson thing? I haven't decided who Harry's love interest will be yet but the front runners are Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis, Susan Bones but I'm open to suggestions. I don't want to do a Harry/Hermione pairing unless there's a major outcry for it. I'll try to have the next chapter up by the end of the weekend but work is kicking my ass at the moment.