Neville Longbottom and The Boy Who Lived

Chapter 5: The Potions Master

Neville Longbottom stirred in his bed, his eyes fluttering open as the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains of his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up slowly, blinking away the remnants of a strange dream involving flying teapots and dancing gnomes.
With a yawn, Neville swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, feeling the stiffness of a night's rest in the cozy, four-poster bed. He glanced around the dormitory, the other beds neatly made, his fellow Gryffindors still lost in their dreams.
Pushing back the covers, Neville got to his feet and made his way to the bathroom to freshen up before his first day of lessons at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The stone floors were cool beneath his bare feet as he washed his face and brushed his teeth, the sounds of the castle waking up echoing through the corridors.
Dressed in his Hogwarts robes, Neville made his way down the spiral staircase from the dormitory, his footsteps echoing in the empty tower. The castle was a maze of twisting corridors and moving staircases, a magical place that seemed to have a life of its own.
Navigating his way through the shifting halls, Neville finally reached the Great Hall, where the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, mingling with the chatter of students and the fluttering of owls delivering morning post.
Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, Neville helped himself to a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, his stomach fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement for the day ahead. He chatted with his housemates, exchanging stories of summer adventures and wondering aloud about the mysteries that awaited them in their classrooms.

Herbology was Neville's favourite class. Three times a week, he made his way to the greenhouses behind the castle, where the air was thick with the scent of earth and growing things. Professor Sprout, a cheerful and plump witch, guided them through the care of magical plants and fungi, teaching them their properties and practical uses. Neville found a sense of peace in the greenhouses, surrounded by the vibrant greenery and the gentle rustling of leaves. He had a knack for Herbology, a talent for nurturing and understanding the needs of the magical plants they studied. It was a subject that spoke to him in a way that others did not, a connection to the natural world that he cherished.

In the evening, Neville sat at his desk in the dimly lit Astronomy Tower, his eyes fixed on the night sky through his telescope. The twinkling stars seemed to dance before his eyes, each one holding a secret and a story waiting to be discovered. Professor Sinistra's voice droned on in the background, explaining the movements of the planets and the constellations that dotted the heavens.
Wednesday nights were one of Neville's favourite time of the week. There was something magical about studying the night skies, about losing himself in the vastness of space and feeling a sense of wonder and awe at the universe beyond. He eagerly took notes, his hand moving swiftly across the parchment as he tried to commit the names of the stars to memory.


Then there was a history of magic, Professor Binns droned on about centuries-old wizards and long-forgotten battles. The ghostly professor floated through the air, his voice a monotonous drone that seemed to lull Neville into a state of half-sleep. History of Magic was easily the most boring class at Hogwarts, a never-ending parade of names and dates that blurred together in Neville's mind. Professor Binns had a unique teaching style, considering he was the only ghostly professor at Hogwarts. Legend had it that he had fallen asleep in front of the staff-room fire one night and simply continued teaching as a ghost the next morning, leaving his body behind. Neville often found himself struggling to stay awake during History of Magic, his mind wandering to more exciting subjects like Herbology and Astronomy.

In contrast to the dullness of History of Magic, Charms class with Professor Flitwick was a delightful experience for Neville. The tiny wizard, who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk, exuded energy and enthusiasm for the subject. Neville admired Professor Flitwick's passion for teaching and his ability to make even the most mundane spells come alive with his animated demonstrations. One of Neville's favourite moments in Charms class was during his first lesson when Professor Flitwick was taking attendance. As he reached Harry Potter's name, the excitable professor let out an enthusiastic squeak and toppled out of sight, much to Neville's amusement.

During Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom. Neville felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The stern professor stood before them, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students as she began her introduction to one of the most complex branches of magic taught at Hogwarts. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall's voice was firm and uncompromising. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Neville swallowed nervously, his eyes fixed on the professor as she demonstrated her skill by effortlessly transforming her desk into a pig and back again. The class erupted into whispers of amazement and admiration, eager to try their hand at such powerful magic.
As the lesson progressed, Professor McGonagall guided them through the basics of Transfiguration, emphasizing the importance of focus, precision, and control. Neville furiously scribbled down notes, trying to absorb as much information as he could. He watched in awe as Hermione Granger, always a standout student, successfully transfigured her match into a gleaming silver needle.
By the end of the lesson, Neville found himself struggling with the delicate art of transfiguration. His match remained stubbornly unchanged, despite his best efforts.

After lunch Neville sat eagerly in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, his anticipation palpable as Professor Quirrell began his first lesson. The classroom was filled with whispers and excitement, as students waited to see what magical knowledge awaited them in this highly anticipated class.
However, as the lesson unfolded, it quickly became apparent that Professor Quirrell's teaching style was unconventional, to say the least. The strong smell of garlic that permeated the classroom caused some students to wrinkle their noses in confusion. Rumours quickly spread among the students that the garlic was meant to ward off a vampire that Quirrell had encountered in Romania, leading to amused glances exchanged between classmates. Adding to the intrigue was Professor Quirrell's peculiar turban, which he claimed was a gift from an African prince in gratitude for Quirrell's assistance in vanquishing a troublesome zombie. The students listened with scepticism, unsure whether to believe the fantastical tale. When pressed for details about the zombie encounter by an eager Seamus Finnigan, Professor Quirrell's response was evasive, diverting the conversation to mundane topics like the weather.
Neville, though initially excited for his Defence Against the Dark Arts class, couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment at the lacklustre start. He had hoped to learn powerful defensive spells and techniques to protect himself and his friends from dark forces, but Quirrell's odd behaviour and questionable stories left him feeling uncertain.
As the lesson came to a close, Neville resolved to approach the subject with an open mind and a readiness to learn, despite the eccentricities of his new professor.