The lot of them had been left patrolling, guarding the Death Chamber, where Harry and Voldemort were dueling. As Harry burst through the doors into the Department of Mysteries, he had told them to make sure none of the many dementors wandering throughout the Ministry came in and distracted him. They had already sucked the souls out of a number of Ministry officials, and had others cowering in corners, still reliving their worst experiences. Three scores of dementors could do that to someone.
Voldemort had set the dementors loose in the Ministry, and had somehow made it through all of the ruckus to the Department of Mysteries. Harry had followed, leaving them to rid the Ministry of the soul sucking beasts.
Between the lot of them, they had been able to drive most of the dementors out of the building, but some remained, lurking in dark corners. Neville was not worried though; he already knew he could take a dementor. In fact, he had single-handedly driven five of them away three hours earlier. Neville smiled with pride as he rounded the corner…
There was nothing, no surprise there. He lowered his wand and began trekking down the long corridor where the door to the Department of Mysteries lay. Why he had been left as the sentry for the most important floor, he did not know, but he was confident that he could take whatever came his way.
Midway down the corridor, he turned to make sure nothing was following him; after all, taking extra precautions could never hurt. Empty space confronted him. There was not so much as the sound of a pin dropping. His defenses down, Neville twisted around, head down, and continued to walk forward.
Suddenly, a bitter cold breath of air washed over him, and the lights burned out, turning the hallway pitch black. “LUMOS!” Neville shouted as he held his wand high in the air. The light revealed none other than a dementor, slowly yet purposefully gliding toward him “ and the door to the Department of Mysteries. Shock kept Neville from conjuring a Patronus, and instead, he began to feel faint and slowly drifted into another world…
“Neville,” said his Gran, Augusta, softly but somehow sternly at the same time. “Don’t be surprised if they don’t recognize you, darling. You have to remember what happened to them. Don’t get upset.”
Neville nodded solemnly and turned to face the door. Augusta gripped the door knob with her vein-covered, deathly-pale hands, and turned. The door swung open ever so slowly; Neville peered inside as he shuffled in.
He was facing an incredibly bare room. The walls, off-white in color, had nothing on them except for a shelf with a few half-empty potions bottles. The peach shades were pulled over the window, so that the room had a dark tone to it. Flowers of every shape and color were the only decorations. They were piled on the windowsill, but many were overflowing onto the floor. The corner of a card could be seen poking out from between two plump, purple flowers; other cards were piled on the end table between the two immaculately clean beds. On one lay a man, on the other, a woman.
At first, he did not recognize them, but instinct kicked in and Neville realised who they were.
“Mum? Dad?”
They looked at him with empty, questioning eyes. A single tear slid down Neville’s terrified face.
In a split second, he was back in the present. The light at the end of his wand had gone out, but Neville did not notice. He was doubled over in fear. He had not seen that memory for ten years. He had not felt those feelings for ten years. The feelings; pain, agony, longing; were still flowing through him. Before he could spiral back into the past, Neville murmured, “Lumos.” He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to wash the feelings out of his body. He pushed them to the back of his mind, where they lurked, ready to spring forward, and looked up at the dementor.
Neville mustered up his courage and pointed his wand. “Expecto Patronum!” Nothing happened. Neville’s head was working frantically. Why didn’t anything happen? What did I do wrong? I’ve done this before, why can’t I do it now? Neville remembered learning how to cast a Patronus from Harry. He remembered casting a Patronus just a few hours before, but he could not do it now! He saw the toad shoot out of his wand mentally, but that was not happening. Nothing was happening. Meanwhile, the dementor continued to drift forward, unaware of the thoughts frantically engulfing Neville’s head as he slipped back into his nightmare from the past…
“Mum, Dad, its me, Neville,” he whispered in between floods of silent tears. “Neville, your son.”
The depth of their eyes was never-ending. Neville stared and stared, but he found no answers. They did not remember him. They did not know who he was. His parents were gone. They were not though, they were here. This was worse than death.
“Neville, darling…”
Slowly Neville looked down, and swore to get revenge for his parents, since they could not do so themselves. His chubby fists clenched tightly together. He continued to cry silent tears as his parents stared right through him, as if he did not exist. His Gran had warned him, but it was still such a shock…
Neville snapped back to the present, his head reeling. Revenge, revenge, revenge. I have to get revenge, he thought over and over again. What am I forgetting? He clenched his fists, and thought as hard as he could. Ever so slowly, he opened his eyes. It was pitch black, his wand had gone out again. Before he could react, it came to him. Think happy. Think happy thoughts. A good memory. With newfound courage, he cried, “Lumos!”
The dementor was still gliding toward him. Neville had to think fast. What was a happy moment? It was hard to think of something with his nightmare from before constantly trying to push through and envelop him. All he could think of were his parents, and he had been too young to remember anything involving them before their…accident. Uncle Algie giving me my Mimbulus mimbletonia? Not strong enough. First day at Hogwarts? More nerve wracking than happy. The DA? No. That was inspiring, not so much happy. Trevor. Trevor! Yes, Trevor! He scrunched his face in contemplation and let the memories flow over him…
“Neville, come here, boy,” commanded Uncle Algie. Neville closed his book of plants and made his way over to his Uncle. Algie looked him over for a few long moments before nodding.
“When you were first born, your parents gave me some…instructions. They knew the dangers of their job, and they were prepared for them. They told me that,” Algie sighed. “That if anything were to happen to them, I was to find a woman named Yamol Rabuckol.”
Neville’s eyes were questioning his uncle’s words; he did not understand where this was going, even at the age of eleven.
“When your parents were…injured,” he went on, “I set out to find this woman. It was difficult, very difficult, but I found her. I walked up to her door, and she threw a box at me. There were some holes in the top, and a little note with feeding instructions. Inside the box was a toad.” Algie pulled a box from behind him and handed it to Neville. It was brown, wrinkled, and deteriorating. Ever so carefully, Neville opened the box, and took a green lump of slime out of it. “His name’s Trevor.”
Trevor jumped off Neville’s hand onto his shoulder. He giggled. “He’s cute.” Joy enveloped Neville. He had not received anything but gum wrappers from his parents for as long as he could remember. Granted, his uncle gave Trevor to him, but it was through his parents’ wishes. Neville beamed at the thought.
Neville looked up, straight at the dementor, thinking hard. The bad memories did not come. He had done it! But the dementor was still advancing. With newfound courage, Neville shouted, “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”
A silver ball of slime came shooting out of the end of Neville’s wand. Within seconds, it turned into a corporeal toad. Neville saw none of this, because the second he had spoken Expecto Patronum, the light at the end of his wand had gone out. Apparently a wand could only be casting one spell at a time. He was blind; he could not see. Neville’s mind immediately switched into problem solving mode and he was just about to recast Lumos when he heard a snap. He had lost his train of thought and his Patronus vanished into thin-air. The dementor continued to advance, and with nothing fighting its powerful grasp on Neville, he subconsciously succumbed to its wishes…
Neville felt a body settle beside him and an arm drape across his shoulder. “Gran,” he cried as he wrapped his pudgy little arms around her.
“Shhh. It’s okay, darling. It’s okay.” As she comforted her grandson, she glanced up at her son and his wife, who were completely oblivious to their son and his sorrow. She softened at the sight of them, defenseless, lifeless.
“Gr-gr-gran?” Neville sniveled. “Can we g-g-go?”
Without a word, Augusta stood and took Neville’s hand. Together, they walked out of the room, leaving Frank and Alice behind. As they walked out of the room, a Healer beckoned.
“Neville, I’ll be right back, darling,” whispered Augusta before she scurried over to the Healer.
The Healer wordlessly held out a box of tissues. Augusta smiled in thanks. “I made the right decision to keep this from him until he was old enough, wasn’t I?” she asked the Healer.
“Yes, I hope he can handle it. Feel free to bring him back whenever. The door is always open.” Augusta nodded and walked on, rubbing Neville’s back to comfort him.
A single tear slid down Neville’s face. He wiped it away with one hand and scrunched his face in thought. He did not even realise his eyes were open; there was no light to see by. He muttered something incoherent, and after a soft crackling sound, a handful of shimmering light appeared over his head. While concentrating on the light subconsciously, he prepared to cast the Patronus Charm again.
As Neville gleefully played with Trevor, Algie continued. “I’ll never understand what your parents purpose behind this toad was. They said that without them, you would need protection, and that Yamol Rabuckol would give it to you. I guess that means that, Trevor here, is protection.”
Neville nodded. Any normal toad would not provide protection; this one must be special. “Don’t worry, Uncle, I won’t lose him.” He beamed, still elated.
“I should hope not, my boy.” He leaned closer. “This toad is a symbol of your parents love for you. It’s more than just a pet.”
Neville raised his wand, and stared straight at where the dementor’s eyes should be. He remembered Trevor, and he remembered his parents, sitting helplessly in St. Mungo’s. He remembered what He, Lord Voldemort, had done to them. A well of anger formed in Neville’s heart as he continued to think happy thoughts.
Neville’s playful demeanor diminished, and he thought back to the last time he had seen his parents. He nodded solemnly.
“You’ll bring Trevor to Hogwarts with you this September,” continued his uncle. From behind him he pulled another package. “Here’s a book called Caring for Toads by Awre Speacial. Use it.”
Neville took the package and ripped it open. He was soon immersed in the book, his toad, and alleged protector, hopping cheerfully around him.
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” The toad once again shot out of the end of Neville’s wand, and this time, he continued to subconsciously focus on the light so it would not go out. He could still see the dementor.
The black, shapeless creature reared backward. The toad followed, pushing it farther and farther back, until the dementor turned and floated away around the corner. Neville ran down the remaining stretch of the corridor and around the corner, but the dementor was already gone. He had beaten it! Pride swelled within him, and he was about to continue patrolling when a door creaked opened behind him and a black haired teenager tumbled out.