Harry Potter and the Strings of Order

Finding Purpose

The guards exchanged a glance before nodding. "Wait here."

Neville was escorted into the House and brought before Mother and Father. Their presence was both intimidating and oddly soothing, their calm, commanding gazes seeming to assess him completely in mere moments.

"You wish to join the House?" Father asked, his deep voice resonating through the room.

"Yes," Neville said, his voice firm despite his nerves. "I need... structure. Purpose. I've been lost since the war ended, and I think the House can help me."

Mother's eyes softened slightly, though her expression remained composed. "And what skills do you bring to the House?"

"I've always been good with herbology, with keeping things alive," Neville replied honestly. "But I'm willing to learn anything. I'll do whatever is needed."

Father and Mother exchanged a glance, their silent communication as seamless as if they were speaking aloud. Finally, Father nodded. "You will begin as a recruit in the guard. Your discipline and strength will be tested. If you succeed, you may find the purpose you seek."

Mother gestured to one of the guards standing nearby. "Take him to the barracks. Head Guard Ace will oversee his training."

Meeting Ace

Neville was led to the barracks, where the head guard was waiting. Ace was an imposing figure—his fiery hair and piercing amethyst eyes made him look almost otherworldly, and the sheer size of his frame was enough to make Neville pause.

Ace looked him over, his sharp gaze assessing. "Fresh meat," he said with a smirk. "Welcome to the barracks. Let's see if you've got what it takes to keep up."

He barked an order to one of the other guards. "Get him a uniform."

A few minutes later, Neville was handed a white uniform—the mark of a recruit. Ace motioned for him to join the other recruits, who were already standing in perfect rows.

"Fall in line," Ace commanded, his voice sharp. "We start with drills. And don't think for a second I'll go easy on you just because you're new."

Settling In

The first day was grueling, but Neville threw himself into the drills, determined to prove himself. That evening, he joined the other guards in the dining hall, where the hearty meal and lively chatter offered a brief respite from the day's intensity.

Neville quickly fell into step with the other recruits, finding a surprising camaraderie among them. Though his body ached from the drills, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction—a hint that he might finally be on the path to what he'd been searching for.

Dinner on the First Day

After hours of intense drills, Neville's body was screaming for rest, but the guards moved with purpose toward the dining hall, and he followed. The hall was modest compared to the House's grandeur, but it was warm, filled with the scent of hearty food and the low hum of quiet conversation.

The recruits formed a line, and Neville quickly fell into place. When he reached the end of the line, a tray was handed to him, piled with a hearty meal: slices of roasted meat, a generous helping of potatoes and vegetables, a medium bowl of soup, a tall glass of water, and another of milk. It was more food than he expected, and for the first time that day, he felt a flicker of gratitude.

He sat with a group of other recruits, their uniforms as crisp and white as his. They greeted him with nods of acknowledgment, their faces friendly but reserved.

"You're the new guy, yeah?" one of them asked, a stocky recruit with a shaved head.

Neville nodded, swallowing a bite of potato. "Neville. Longbottom."

The recruit grinned. "I'm Sean. This place is rough at first, but you'll get used to it. Ace doesn't let up, though, so be ready."

Another recruit, a wiry girl with sharp eyes, chuckled. "If you survive Ace, you can survive anything."

Despite their teasing, there was a camaraderie in the group that put Neville at ease. For the first time since arriving, he felt like he wasn't entirely alone.

The Second Day

The next morning, Neville was awoken by the sharp clang of a bell echoing through the barracks. He groaned as he stretched, his muscles still sore from the previous day's drills. But he pushed himself out of bed, quickly dressing in his uniform before following the others out to the training grounds.

Ace was already waiting, his massive frame imposing in the early morning light. He smirked as the recruits assembled, his piercing amethyst eyes scanning them like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Fresh meat," Ace barked, his voice cutting through the crisp air. "You survived yesterday. Congratulations. But don't get too comfortable—I'm just getting started."

The drills were even more grueling than the first day. Neville's muscles burned as he followed Ace's commands, his movements clumsy at first but growing steadier as the day went on.

By midday, Ace called a halt to the drills and singled Neville out. "Longbottom! Step forward."

Neville swallowed hard and obeyed, his heart pounding as Ace sized him up.

"Let's see what you're made of," Ace said, tossing Neville a wooden training sword. "You and me. One on one."

The other recruits stepped back, forming a loose circle around them. Neville gripped the sword tightly, his nerves jangling.

Ace moved with a speed that belied his size, his strikes measured and precise. Neville dodged awkwardly, his movements unrefined, but he refused to back down. He managed to block a few strikes, his instincts kicking in as he focused on Ace's movements.

By the end of the spar, Neville was panting and drenched in sweat, but Ace nodded approvingly. "Not bad for fresh meat. You've got potential. Now get back in line."

Neville staggered back to his place, feeling a strange mixture of exhaustion and pride. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.

End of Flashback

Now, sitting on his bed, Neville smiled faintly as the memories washed over him. The drills, the camaraderie, the sparring—it had been hard, but it was exactly what he needed.

The House had given him direction, discipline, and a purpose he hadn't realized he was searching for. And as he stared at the simple furnishings of his room, he felt a sense of peace settle over him, the words on the card echoing in his mind once more:

Good order is the foundation of all things.