Neville Longbottom: The Boy Who Fought Back

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Disclaimer: This is posted in a fanfiction site… I'll let you draw your own conclusions.

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Summary: AU. Neville's not the boy who lived. Too bad that doesn't prevent his life from being turned upside down. Stumbling along the way, Neville unwillingly sets out to prove one doesn't have to be chosen to be a hero. You just have to fight back.

1. The End of a Beginning

or

How Neville came to a grim realization

Neville Longbottom had never noticed, but the ceiling of the Griffindor's common room was quite dull. It wasn't crimson, orange, or gold, like the well furnished walls, or brown like the polished floor. It wasn't even an immaculate white like the hospital wing – just a dreary looking grey. He wouldn't have noticed if he had another choice. What else could you do after being hit by a Body Bind spell?

There were only a few more days till the end of the school year. The final exams had been a nightmare, but he was at least sure he'd get more than an 'A' in Herbology. You'd think after all he suffered during the year, between being bullied by the Slytherins, being bullied by the older Griffindors, and being the unwilling test subject of the Weasley Twins – same difference really – having the worst first time on a broom ever, and getting detentions for trying to help his friends, that his trials would come to an end, but no… Neville Longbottom hadn't quite had his fill yet. Neville was quite the glutton for punishment. And so Neville considered that maybe, just maybe, it would be the right thing to do to prevent his friends from facing a Cerberus.

And now he was in a Body Bind, looking at the ceiling.

You had to give it to the poor boy though. Neville had his heart at the right place. He didn't have concrete proof, but he knew whatever Harry and his friends were conspiring about was related to the mysterious room on the third floor. At first he was so worried that he had actually cried for his friends. There was a three-headed giant dog there! Later he had been angry to be treated in such a way. A Body Bind Spell? Really? Couldn't they… you know, ask him to tell a teacher after a small delay, or simply push him away? Offer him any kind of alternative? Put him to sleep? And this wasn't even a first year spell! He didn't know whether he should have been angry to realize they had actually believed him when he said he was doing this for the house points. Couldn't they realize that would have been quite hypocritical of him?

That led him to depression, as Neville had to admit to himself Harry Potter and his friends wouldn't have treated each other like they had done with him. That it was Hermione that did so left a particularly bad sting. He hadn't thought he and the popular Boy-Who-Lived would be close – despite what his Gran said, and it was clear that Ron didn't care at all about him. But Hermione… she actually worried for him sometimes, tried to console him and help him with homework. Well… only the last part had been true lately, and that was because Hermione helped everyone with their homework. The first part of the school year had been spent trying to cheer the young witch up, being the only first year in Griffindor not really bothered by her bossy attitude since compared to Gran, it was almost cute. Of course that was until she became the third member of Potter's circle of close friends. After that… Still, she was the only one to give him the time of day. That had to count for something, right?

Unfortunately, he had to rethink that statement when he later saw Hermione come back – the only thing that could move on his body being his pupils that was harder to do than one would think. The common room door opened and there they were – Hermione and Ron heading to their rooms. The sheer relief at seeing the two alive and well was enough for Neville to momentarily forget his situation, not that he could do anything about it. He couldn't make a sound, let alone move his lips. But that wasn't the best part; whatever had happened was so big that even the Deputy Headmistress and the Headmaster passed him by. It wasn't like he was out of sight; Harry Potter and his friends hadn't bothered to move him away at an hour where everyone was supposed to be sleeping.

To crown the already awful night as the absolute worst, he discovered the most unpleasant fact about the Body Bind spell: While the spell made your whole body rigid, it didn't stop some of the more… basic body functions… like bowel movements, and thus Neville had become a mess; cue to the return of the tears and anger. But now, the young boy couldn't find within himself the energy to care anymore. He had cried all his tears and his nose had quickly gotten used to the smell of his… mess. He was just looking at the ceiling, wondering why it was so dull and if he'd be publicly humiliated tomorrow or would the first one up would at least spare him some dignity.

"Longbottom! What are you…?"

Neville was relieved this had been whispered instead of shouted; maybe it was daybreak. He had lost track of time so he wouldn't know. What he did know however, was that the voice of the whisperer belonged to the fifth year prefect, Percy Weasley.

There was a long moment of silence before the prefect stated the clearly obvious. "You can't move at all, can you?"

The boy then heard the sound of footsteps heading for the boys rooms. He wasn't worried about being left there. If there was one thing Neville could count on at all in the house of the Lions, it was Percy Weasley's passion for his job. Nobody knew why he was such a stickler for rules, and frankly Neville didn't care. At least the teen treated everyone equally. It was also a plus that his brothers sometimes listened to him.

Moments later he heard him come back.

"Finite Incantem."

He was finally free, not that it help that much. "Can you get up, Longbottom?" the other boy asked grimly. This worried Neville who tried to move, but couldn't. It took all he could to simply shake his head without going into a panic, and even then his head moved only so slightly. He could barely make out Weasley frown. "You've been in that spell for too long already, so your body is kind of asleep," the older teen explained. "Give it five minutes or so."

Percy certainly knew his stuff because his body was already regaining feeling. Unfortunately a certain amount of pain quickly followed. His whole body felt like a big cramp, so much that if Neville had been a normal kid, he'd be probably crying in pain right now. As it was, he only let out small whimpers and tears. It took him another ten minutes to be sure he could get up without falling on his face, and even then he needed the support of the prefect to remain standing. He leaned against the nearest wall and let Percy use a cleaning spell for his robes and the floor.

"I've got one of your spare robes here, so Mrs Pomfrey can change you once we're in the infirmary."

Neville wearily nodded. Slowly they headed towards their destination in silence, only broken when the pain became unbearable – which only happened every time he moved a muscle. Percy asked only one thing. "Who did this?" Neville shook his head. Percy sighed. "Neville I don't think you know, but I already have a good idea about what happened back there, and I'll have to report this. Prolonged exposure to the Body Bind spell could have had landed you at St-Mungo's for a week."

Neville smiled sadly, shocking his senior. To tell the truth Neville would have been quite happy to spend a week in the wizard hospital. He shook his head again. "T-than ou," he slurred. Truly, the Body Bind was nasty stuff! Even his speech had become wonky.

The prefect sighed and said nothing more until they arrived in Madam Pomfrey's presence. She was already fretting over a student behind a curtain. No doubt this was Potter; he hadn't seen him along the rest of the procession earlier. His mind came back to the present has the matron was now looking at him wearily.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Mr Longbottom?"

The Prefect' eyes narrowed. "He was hit by a Body Bind spell." he answered coldly.

Madam Pomfrey gasped a she looked from one boy to the other. "How long, Mr Weasley?" While Percy was left to handle the details, Neville was left to peek at the sleeping boy in front of him. He looked so pale on his bed. "Will 'h be ahight?" he asked. The other two looked from him to Harry, and back to him, and he could see them sad to see him say that for a reason. "He gon be ahight?" he tried again. What was up with the silence? Was he really hurt? Was he going to die?

"He'll be fine, young man, you should worry about yourself," she said, shaking her head worriedly. The medic lifted Neville thanks to a spell and put him in the adjacent bed. She casted a basic diagnostic spell, frowned and went to fetch a potion. "Drink this and rest. If I like what I see in the morning you'll be discharged before breakfast."

She then returned to Percy. If her voice was anything to go by she was furious. "Professor McGonagall will hear of this."

The redhead nodded. "That was my intention." And with that said Percy left to go to sleep.

As for Neville, something told him there would be no sleep for him yet, as tired as he was. So he made himself as comfortable as he could and stared at the white ceiling until the pain started to recede.

* . *

Neville didn't know when he fell asleep, but it was Madam Pomfrey's prodding that woke him. The sun was outside; meaning she probably wanted him to eat something. He wasn't in the mood, but his stomach was. So he ate, noticing that he had been changed during his sleep. After that and another check up, he was sent straight to meet his head of house. The transfiguration Professor did not waste a moment.

"Mr Longbottom, who was it that fired that Body Bind spell against you?" Neville remained quiet. "Mr Longbottom, do know that you are neither doing yourself nor the perpetrator any favors by remaining quiet." The boy knew that, yet he said nothing still. Even when the stern witch explained how dangerous the spell could have been and how this warranted severe reprimand for the perpetrator, he held this tongue. If anything this only strengthened his resolve. He was cross with Hermione, but he didn't want get even, not like that anyway. "Do note, Mr Longbottom, that I will find the perpetrator – with or without your help."

Neville blinked finally took a deep breath and said, "No offense Professor, but it took a prefect to find me when you and the Headmaster passed right by me, so I doubt that." That answer might have been a tad bitter.

Mrs McGonagall stood there either dumbstruck or furious, because from what he could see her expression hadn't changed. The way she looked at him made him feel very uncomfortable and somehow reminded him of home. "Very well," she let out. "Ten points from Griffindor for disrespect, and I'll see you in detention this afternoon."

The reason his detention was in the afternoon was simple; the final week of the school year had no classes for the first years. Neville apologized, excused himself and left to find something to do. Ironically, for a castle brimming with magic and adventure there wasn't a lot of activities to do by yourself besides reading and taking a stroll. So the plump boy headed outside, hopefully he'd be able to take a nap. His only surprise was Hermione's sudden interest in him now that Harry wasn't here, and her surprise her when he ignored her at lunch. The witch was acting like nothing happened and was babbling to him about how dangerous their trip had been and how foolish they had been to even attempt it. For some reason, that annoyed him.

He later met his Head of House in her office, where he was simply asked to sit while she corrected some papers. That wasn't very daunting. Then again he hadn't really done anything wrong, had he? In fact, the Deputy Headmistress tried again to coax the name of culprit out of Neville during the detention, but he remained silent. And now that he had received his punishment, there was nothing the professor could do but send the boy back to his common room.

That was when Neville learned that his bad day wasn't quite over yet.

When he entered the common room to head for the boy's dormitory, he was intercepted by none other than the Weasley Twins.

"Hello Neville!"

"How nice of you…"

"…to drop by and…"

"…pay us a visit," they chorused.

Neville made to bypass them but one of them grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him towards the center of the common room.

"I heard you had a detention with McGonagall today, must have been boring. Luckily we have something to cheer you right up!"

"M'fine, really" the first year assured them nervously.

"Nonsense! Anything to cheer up our dear Nevikins. Isn't that right, Gred?"

Now the boy knew for certain he was in for it. For maybe the hundredth time this year, he wondered what he had done to the Twins. He certainly knew it wasn't because he lost House points. Everyone knew the biggest reasons their score was low were the infamous pranksters themselves. Well, he hadn't helped at all, but so did their Ron Hermione and Harry. Couldn't be because he had wronged them… maybe they just didn't like him?

He was startled out of his thoughts by one of the Twins last statement. "We were thinking about trying a muggle game called volleyball."

The first year gulped and looked around. As he had feared; there was no ball around. He assumed, as that 'feetball' game Dean was so eager to talk about, this game required some kind of ball, hence the 'ball' in the name – not very original if you asked him. He gulped, and asked the question that would seal his fate.

"Where's the ball?"

After a beat, the one of called Gred grabbed him and before he could fight back the other twin, Forge he guessed, fired a spell. Next thing he knew he was encased in a bubble, a special one considering how easily they picked him up. He tried shouting to be released, but apparently, they couldn't hear him. He could hear them pretty well, however. The Twins were asking if they were willing participants. To Neville's consternation everyone wanted to try. The only ones that didn't were Percy, who was fighting tooth and nail to stop this nonsense, and Hermione, by the simple fact that she wasn't there. Harry was, of course, in the hospital wing.

"Oh come on, Percy! This is armless," argued Gred, or was it Forge? He had lost track of them by the first pass. He had lost track of everything after the first pass. He was afraid of heights, deathly afraid. Who wouldn't be after being chucked out of castle at the age of eight by 'accident'? And now he was relieving that day in his mind. The look of his Uncle Algie then… it had been as scary as the fall itself.

Neville had become pale as a ghost and was glad to had skipped lunch – it took all he had keep his breakfast in his stomach. He was trying to break his prison, but so far nothing was working. What hurt him the most was he could hear them all. He could barely open his eyes, but he could clearly hear the laughter, aimed at him; his supposed house and family fighting for a chance to jerk him around.

Finally Neville's bubble hit the floor right next to Ron. The captive blond was hammering the sides of his prison, begging to be released. And then he understood. That look… the look full innocent enjoyment… they didn't care at all about him. So it truly was in pure, harmless fun that Ron raised his leg, and hit the Neville ball with all his might. Poor Neville flew away wondering if this game was ever going to end. People were trying to catch him but his trajectory was too high.

The game and his thoughts all came to a halt when he hit the wall. The bubble burst from the impact, hurting him in the process and he fell on the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory. He heard a sickening 'crack' and let out a sharp yell. That pain was familiar – he felt the same thing when he fell off his broom months ago. His arm was broken again. Luckily it was the left one. He slowly got up careful not to touch his arm. When he turned the brave and righteous house was still laughing, not even looking at him. It was funny. It was just a game. It didn't matter if he was in pain – for them it was fun. They just didn't care about him.

He wouldn't cry he told himself. He had shed tears inside the bubble, when he was reminded of his experience with death, but now he wouldn't. They wouldn't care, so why should he cry? He took a deep breath, so he could bear the pain, and headed to the exit.

"Oi, where are you going, Neville?" It was Ron who asked, of all the people. Sometimes he wondered if the boy was pretending to be dense.

"To the hospital wing," he stated without stopping.

He saw the Twins exchange a look; they didn't believe him. The smile they had was a bit forced now. "Hey now, don't be a sourpuss, Nevikins!" one of them said as he approached. "It was a prank, no need to be serious about it."

Neville had instinctively taken a step back, his eyes on the door out of the common room. He tried to walk around the two, but they wouldn't let through. Around him the people were still laughing and Percy was still shouting trying to make a path to him. Then suddenly Fred-George reached for his arm – his broken, painful, throbbing arm.

Something inside of Neville snapped as he screamed.

He was tired of being a test subject, tired of being made fun of, tired of being bullied by the Slytherins, tired of being bullied and ignored by his house. He was sick of this school. He was sick of the students as he was of the teachers. He wanted to go home, take care of his plants and never set a foot in this accursed place ever again! Neville's cry was as much of frustration as it was of pain. He did the only thing he could at this moment. He yanked his arm back, and drew his wand.

The laughing abruptly stopped. Fred-George snapped his own arm back like it was on fire. Now everyone was looking at him with worry. But he knew better. This wasn't concern for him – it was worry for the consequences if their head of House were to hear of this. But he didn't care about that now. His arm hurt. The only reason he drew his wand was to hex the next person to get in his way.

"Hey mate, you alright?"

Neville snorted. A bit late to ask that – couldn't they see his arm was broken? "No. move."

"We didn't want this to happen, honest!"

"I don't care! Move!" he hissed his wand glowing ominously.

This time the Twins did let him pass. He raised an eyebrow at his wand. He needed to remember how he did that. Neville did not even spare a glance of anger at the Weasleys now that they were out of his way – he only saw the door that would lead where they would make his arm stop hurting. He had to stop and turn however when he heard footsteps behind him. He whirled and his wand was aimed at the target, ready to chant. The older girl raised her empty hands in surrender.

"It's Okay. I just wanted to help you to Madam Pomfrey's." Only it wasn't 'Okay'. The girl was a third year. Katie… something; he didn't remember. But he clearly recalled she was a participant in that little farce. It wasn't hard to recall since everyone had been. Neville aimed for a glare, but it came out more like a determined expression.

"M'fine! You played, you laughed. I don't need your help!" he hissed through the pain. The boy didn't spare the flushing witch another glance and exited the common room – pain was his only motivator at the moment. He hadn't gone down the first flight of stairs that he was rejoined by Percy. "M'fine, Weasley," he tried again.

The prefect sighed in exasperation. "Your arm is broken, Longbottom – you're everything but fine. I'm accompanying you and that's final."

There was nothing else to say so the two kept moving. They definitely had to stop meeting like this. As they neared the medical wing Neville shot him a pained smile. "Thanks."

Percy gave him an asking glance, but already Neville was opening the door.

"Dear Merlin! What happened this time, Mr Longbottom?"

The boy shrugged. "I fell on the stairs." Both the prefect and the Matron stared incredulously at him. He stared right back. It was the truth after all.

"Right," Mrs Pomfrey said reluctantly. "Just sit here, Mr Longbottom, I'll see what I can do for you."

Percy eventually left and Neville was left to wonder how many more times would he have to visit this place before the end of the year.

* . *

The next day went by in a similar way than before. Neville woke up in the hospital wing, because for some reason Madam Pomfrey decided to keep him for the night. He ate in the infirmary, and was informed the Deputy Headmistress was waiting for him. Only this time he was ambushed by two redheads on his way there – Hermione and Ron. Oh great, the two people who sent him in the hospital wing. Even the Twins who have been a better encounter at this point.

"Neville! I was just about to ask Professor McGonagall for you. What happened?" The boy looked at her in confusion. "When I came to the common room yesterday Percy was so angry…" Hermione paused. I occurred to Neville that this was probably the first time Percy had actually been angry. "Anyway, he was so mad that he even snapped at me!" From her tone, you'd think any kind of authority angry at her was a sin. "He didn't even explain why he was. He just said that he was ashamed to be a Griffindor and that we should all apologize to you. Even the Headboy looked ashamed."

Neville felt a small twitch around the corner of his lips. Once again his respect for prefect Weasley rose. He mentally shrugged. Too bad he'd never get to hear that apology. He focused on the moment and shrugged.

"I fell on the stairs, Granger," he said dismissively. The girl frowned. Neville couldn't recall ever calling her like that before, so that must have surprised her. Or maybe she noticed how he had phrased his explanation. Thinking the discussion was over he started walking, but the ginger witch fell into step next to him, with the other boy trailing behind them. Neville blinked. Twice. What was up with them? "Why are you guys following me?"

"You're going to Mrs McGonagall," she insisted, "why?"

The blond shrugged. "Because she called for me."

Now at Hermione's side, Ron had a different worry. "You're not going to tell her, are you mate?"

"Tell her what, Ron?"

Ron looked from Hermione to Neville. Both were looking at him inquisitively, but while Hermione's stare was full of suspicion, Neville's was the picture of innocent curiosity, and somehow much scarier for that reason. The young Weasley gulped. "Nothing, Hermione."

Meanwhile, Neville continued his trip and knocked at the door of Professor McGonagall. He entered, but before he could close the door Hermione and a reluctant Ron went in after him. Neville frowned, but said nothing.

"Ms Granger, Mr Weasley, to what do I owe this visit?"

"We just wanted to know what happened to Neville yesterday. They told me he slept in the infirmary."

The teacher's gaze shifted from them to Neville. "This is precisely why he's here. Well, care to explain us what happened, Mr Longbottom?"

Neville answered like he did Hermione. "I fell on the stairs and broke my arm. Percy helped me get to Mrs Pomfrey." The Lion's Head of house sighed. "You can ask Weasley," he added, pointing at Ron. "He was there." The professor's eyes went from him to Ron, who blanched. Neville was feeling vindictive today. He wanted to see if Ron would take the easy way out.

"Yeah, that's what happened. He fell down the stairs. Most of the House was in the common room and saw it."

Professor McGonagall eye's sharpened. "Mr Longbottom, I did in fact ask a Weasley, only it was the prefect." Oh? Apparently freckles could pale too – Fascinating. As for him he had nothing to say. If the Deputy Headmistress heard the story already he had nothing to add. "Mr Longbottom," she said at last. Neville had the distinct impression that the Deputy Headmistress looked… uncomfortable. "After further discussions with prefect Weasley, it seems apologies are in order."

The small pudgy boy blinked. Was she really presenting her excuses for what he thought she was? That was… unexpected. "Apology accepted, Professor."

The stern witch sighed. "I hope for your sake that I won't have to summon you to my office tomorrow as well. I would like to participate in end of term breakfast." She turned to Ron "Weasley? A word of you please?"

The blond felt like this was not a discussion he needed to be part of. Excused, he left the office wondering where to spend the day. He hadn't left the hall that he heard Hermione running after him. He tried to ignore her like one ignored a sudden wall blocking the road. Obviously that didn't work. This was becoming annoying. He had half a mind to pull out his wand. It had worked very well against the Twins, and to him nothing was scarier than the Twins.

…Except Snape, obviously.

Will power prevailed yet again – unfortunately.

"What do you want, Granger?" he asked.

Hermione was wringing her hands "Why are you acting like this, Neville?"

Neville was genuinely surprised by her inquiry. "Why do you care?" he retorted.

For a moment, Hermione could only open and close her mouth. "What do mean 'Why do I care'?! You were in the hospital wing. Of course I'd be worried for you."

"Really? That's odd. This is the second night in a row I spent in the hospital wing. You didn't seem to care that much yesterday."

Hermione's face flushed, but then she quickly recovered. "And how should I have known about yesterday? I wasn't even there!"

…Because she had been the one responsible? Neville wondered why he even bothered. "Do me a favor, Granger. Next time, use a sticking charm. At least that spell is clean," he finished.

By the time Neville got to the stairs Hermione still hadn't moved, probably trying to figure what he was talking about. Neville hurried with any luck, by the time she did, he'd be long gone. Even better if she didn't – it's not like he truly wanted her to know what had happened to him. That Percy knew about it was embarrassing enough.

* . *

The next day he hadn't felt like assisting the ending feast in the first place, not with his own house anyway. Still, he was kind of hungry, and didn't want to get in trouble later so he headed there. Only he decided he'd be late – no use in spending more time in bad company.

The Griffindors were looking kind of calm. Way too calm. Neville frowned when he looked at the house points. They were third, and they had lost the Quidditch Cup. That was enough to put any house in a sour mood, but sour wasn't calm. Things didn't add up though – it was like the Griffindors were expecting something to happen.

That also didn't explain Percy's need to stay away from the rest of his class, but for that he had a good guess. No matter, he was only here to eat anyway.

He hadn't made a step to enter when Dumbledore had decided to add last minute house points and they were now tied with the Slytherins. Neville's frown deepened. Maybe it would be best not to enter the hall just yet.

"Now, it takes courage to face our enemies," Dumbledore went on, "but it takes even more to face our friends. For that, I would like to reward 10 points to Griffindor for Neville's courage."

The ruckus of the House of Griffins was deafening. The cheers were even coming from the other houses as the colors were changed from green to gold. Everybody was laughing and chanting – finally Slytherin had been dethroned. Harry was happy as could be. People were congratulating him, Ron and Hermione and all was well in the wizarding world.

Dumbledore had given him points. Neville felt like someone somewhere was making fun of him. Why ten? Surely the Headmaster had known somehow about his loss of points and wanted to drive the point home that his actions had been totally worthless. Even better – this meant the Headmaster had known about the Body Bind incident and had done absolutely nothing. That even the famous Dumbledore was taking a jab at him was suddenly too much for Neville.

But then he remembered – they didn't care about him did they? Neville hadn't done anything, not really. All he had managed was to get himself in the hospital wing. The Headmaster only wanted the Griffindors to win. Even the Headmaster didn't care about him.

The miniscule appetite he had, left him.

The atmosphere was too great for the Griffindors to notice one small part of their own was missing, and even the Hogwarts staff missed the little blond boy who silently closed the door on this warming scene with a trembling hand, his choked sob drowned by the crowd. Fortunately, Neville met no one as he hurried to his room, so he let his tears flow unashamed… until he tripped because he couldn't see the dratted vanishing step. After that, still crying cautious, he headed for his bed, packed his trunk changed his clothes and went to sleep.

The ride back to King's cross couldn't come soon enough.

* . *

A/N: So there you have it. My little side fic. Tell me what you think. Don't worry; this won't affect my other story in anyway. Though my Avatar story is in permanent hiatus I'm afraid.