Neville Longbottom and The Boy Who Lived

Chapter 11: Neville's Promise

Neville stepped off the Hogwarts Express, a broad smile on his face as he took in the familiar sight of the magnificent castle in the distance. The castle already felt like coming back to a second home.
Eager to settle in before the hustle and bustle of the school term began, Neville decided to head to the library to pick out a book on Herbology to read in bed before his lessons started.

Just as he was about to enter the library, a voice called out his name. Neville turned around to see Draco Malfoy sauntering towards him, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Ah, Longbottom, perfect timing," Draco sneered, his silver eyes glinting maliciously. Before Neville could react, Draco swiftly cast the Leg-Locker Curse on him, leaving him unable to move.
Neville's heart raced as Draco approached him.
"I've been meaning to practice that spell, you're the perfect test subject. Looks like I've done pretty well, what do you think, boys?" Draco said, turning to Crabbe and Goyle, who chuckled in agreement.

Neville's heart sank as Draco Malfoy's cruel laughter echoed down the empty corridor. He felt the weight of the Leg-Locker Curse pressing down on him, his limbs frozen in place as he struggled to stand upright. With a voice laced with desperation, he pleaded, "Draco, please, undo it. This isn't funny."
But Draco's grey eyes glinted with malice as he coldly refused, "No, I don't think so. If you were smart, you would know how to undo it, wouldn't you, Longbottom?" His words were like venom, each syllable a barb aimed at Neville's already fragile confidence.
"Do you know why you're the perfect target? It's because you're so stupid. The only thing interesting about you is the fact that you were sorted into Gryffindor house, the house of bravery," Draco sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.
Neville's heart ached as Draco's words cut deep, questioning his very worth.
"The hat must have felt sorry for you, had to be brave to let a sweaty, spotty idiot like you wear him. Probably chose Gryffindor because your face is scarlet like its house colors," Draco continued, his voice mocking. "Imagine the embarrassment. A Gryffindor being such a coward! I'm surprised you even made the list to Hogwarts. Must not be that many magical wizards this year."
Neville felt the sting of tears threatening to spill from his eyes as Draco's cutting words reverberated in the empty corridor. The last thing he wanted was to let Draco see him cry.

"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle, let's go and find a real wizard to talk to," As Draco sauntered away, Crabbe and Goyle lingered for a moment, sharing a glance filled with malice.
Without warning, Crabbe and Goyle moved towards Neville, their bulky figures looming over him like shadows. With a swift and callous shove, they pushed Neville to the ground, his body hitting the cold stone floor with a thud. Pain shot through him, as he lay there, vulnerable and exposed.

Neville rose from the cold stone floor. He brushed off the dust from his robes and steadied himself, his mind racing with thoughts of seeking refuge in the safety of the Gryffindor Common Room. With his legs still feeling the effects of the leg-lock jinx, he knew the journey ahead would not be an easy one.
As Neville made his way through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, his legs tightly bound together by the jinx, he struggled to maintain his balance. Each step was a challenge, forcing him to hop awkwardly like a wounded animal.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Neville toppled through the portrait hole into the bustling Gryffindor Common Room. Laughter erupted from the students gathered there, their amusement ringing in his ears.
Among the chuckling crowd, Hermione Granger was the first to react. With a flick of her wand and a determined expression, she performed the counter curse, freeing Neville from the leg-lock jinx. His legs spread apart, and he stood shakily on his feet, trembling from the ordeal he had just faced.

"What happened, Neville?" Hermione asked with concern, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron. Neville's voice shook as he recounted the encounter with Malfoy outside the library, the words heavy with the weight of humiliation and fear.
"Malfoy," Neville said shakily, "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
Hermione's eyes flashed with indignation. "You need to go to Professor McGonagall, Neville. You have to report him," she urged, her voice firm with conviction. But Neville hesitated, his resolve faltering at the thought of inviting more trouble upon himself.
"I don't want more trouble," Neville mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.