I’ve never been the one that anyone expects anything from; there is always Harry or Ron for that. I am always the one in the background, the one that no one really notices. Least to say, it surprises everyone at breakfast when the owl lands in front of me. It is not from Gram, that much is obvious, but the letter it holds contains quite a mystery. It simply reads:
Irresistible lure,
Custom-built prize,
Awaits the doer
Who makes it in time.
Just for you,
Was this treasure made,
Collect the clues,
And survive the maze.
If you can name it,
This thing with danger bought,
Then you can claim it,
But don’t get caught.
Outside the doors
At ten tonight
With skills yours
Your glory will shine bright.
As soon as I finish reading it, the message burns away, leaving the words only to exist in my mind.
“What is that all about?”
“Who is that from?”
“Oi, Neville? What did you do to make your Gram angry this time?”
I take no notice of my friends’ questions; I am concentrating too hard on the words of the message. What do they mean? All I know is tonight, for once, I will be the one having the adventure.
Despite all of the questions, I tell no one of what the message says, even though I think that Hermione might help me figure it out. However, telling her means that Harry and Ron will find out as well and I am excited to have an adventure for myself. You see, I’m tired of being a nobody, I have something to prove, and I have a feeling that whatever this message leads to will be just the thing.
Slightly before ten I make my way out of the portrait hole, ignoring Hermione yelling that it will soon be curfew. As I near the main doors I grip my wand tightly. With some trepidation I push the doors open as quietly as I can, silently thanking whoever has left them unlocked. I step into the light of the moon and stare at what stands before me. There, not 50 paces away, stands a large hedge not unlike the one that made up the maze in the Tri-Wizard tournament Harry participated in. There is one difference though: the entrance to this maze is a huge gilded door that shines in the moonlight.
With a deep breath I move to the door and push through it, on my way to glory. I stop for a moment once inside to let my eyes adjust to the darkness, deciding that using Lumos will probably be alright. The space between the hedges is very narrow and there are many turns along the way but it is not long before I see light peeking around a corner up ahead. I near the corner cautiously and slowly ease my head around to take a look. What I see waiting for me there surprises me.
The maze has widened out into a very lovely garden, lined with Privet and Yew trees. It is as light as day in the space, and I do not feel quite so claustrophobic here as in the rest of the maze. There are many varieties of flowers here, and a pumpkin patch. I start to feel quite at home because as everyone knows, I am best at Herbology. I notice the stone bench at the end of the path and hurry towards it, spotting the sneezewort too late to stop the sneezes from coming. I glare at the offending plant and hurry past, stopping at the bench.
There are many jars and containers of plants at one end of the bench and I recognize several of them. There is a Mimbulous mimbletonia and a small sack on the other side and in the middle there is a Dragon-leather notebook. I reach for it and eagerly open it up. Inside are these words:
In my midst you’re sure to find
Plants and Herbs of every kind
Search me well and you will see
Fluxweed, Hellebore, Gillyweed
Beware the Mandrake’s cry if you
Should ever dig for Gurdyroot
Before you leave me you must bring
Lovage, dittany and Shrivelfig
And in my pages you must write
The other names of aconite
With that the door will open wide
And you may take of what I hide
So stop to ponder if you will
The Malowsweet won’t make you ill
I look around quickly, taking another glance around the garden. I remember that lovage and dittany are normally stored dried so I look again through the plants at the other end of the bench. It is not long before I find both of them, in small bundles, and bring them back to the book. I learned to prune shrivelfigs in my second year so, spying one amongst the flowers, I snip off a bit and bring that back to the book as well. It is then that I notice the quill resting next to the book and I pick it up, trying to remember all of the names of aconite.
“I know it has something to do with werewolves,” I mumble to myself. “That’s it!”
I hastily scribble the words ‘monkshood’ and ‘wolfsbane’ next to aconite and the book slams shut. I hear a groaning noise coming from the hedge behind the bench and look up to see an ancient door slowly creaking open. I hope that the rest of the maze will be this easy and make my way towards the door.
The first thing I notice when the door slams shut behind me is how cold it is in this part of the maze. It is very dark as well and I can’t see anything. I have no idea what I am facing until I start to feel incredibly sad, as if nothing will ever be good in the world again. I know there is only one creature with the power to do that: dementors. I have only seen a dementor from far away, when they came to Hogwarts during my third year to look for Sirius Black. Now I am in the same space with one and it is very close, judging from the rattling breaths it is taking.
I am very afraid. The only way to fend off a dementor is the Patronus charm and it is a very difficult charm to perform. In fact, I have never accomplished it, no matter how much Harry and Hermione have tried to help me. The dementor is getting closer, I still can’t see it but the rattling is getting louder and the space colder. I try to think through the horrible memories that are flooding my brain, try to figure out a different way of defeating it. I fall to my knees when the images of my parents in St. Mungo’s spring into my consciousness and I almost give up. I need light, not only to see the dementor, but light on how to fend it off.
Suddenly, I remember the story Harry told me of how Professor Lupin got rid of the dementor on the Hogwart’s Express. He said no words, but light erupted from the end of his wand, similar to the Lumos spell. It wasn’t a Patronus, but I am still worried because I have been having trouble with non-verbal spells. I think of light as hard as I can and the dementor keeps getting closer. Sparks fizzle out of my wand for a few moments and I concentrate still harder. Finally, a brilliant light shines out of the end of my wand. The dementor gives a shriek and I can see now that it has cowered in a corner of the room I find myself in. On the opposite wall, a door opens and a bluish light shines around it. I sprint for it as fast as I can go, glad to be away from the dementor and on to the next challenge.
It seems that the light is coming from a very old, very tattered piece of parchment lying on a table in the middle of the room. I move swiftly to it, wishing still to be as far away from the dementor as possible. I dare not pick it up though and I lean over to peer at it. On it are written these words:
The last will come first here.
Covers your head when it's rainy!
Strange chants reaches my ear,
Thus add the holy men of the abbey
I wish now that Hermione could have come with me, she was always good at figuring out riddles. Still, I am the only one here and I am determined to get through this and the fact that I have fended off a dementor is fresh in my mind, affording me a slight sense of pride. I begin pacing in front of the table and muttering to myself.
“The last will come first here, I wonder if that means that I should figure out the last line first.” I decide that it couldn’t hurt to try and move to the table to peer at the parchment again.
“Thus add the holy men of the abbey,” I read aloud. In my mind I think of all of the words I can think of that have to do with abbeys. The word ‘monk’ immediately springs to mind but the only thing I know of that has that word in it is a plant and there are no plants here. ‘Nun’ is used specifically for women and I know that that cannot be the answer. Then I remember a word that could be the one I need: priory. I have heard of a spell that begins with Priori, but I cannot be sure that this is the answer until I have solved the other lines.
My eyes alight on the line that reads ‘Strange chants reaches my ears.’ I remember that sometimes in Potions class we have to use incantations that sound like chants. It strikes me suddenly that the word ‘incantation’ sounds like the second part of the Priori spell, which is ‘Incantatem’, and I wonder if this is the answer. There are two versions of that spell though so I read the final line in the riddle. The only word that springs to mind from the line is ‘hat.’ There is nothing that sounds like ‘hat’ in Prior Incantato, but maybe…
“Priori Incantatem?”
At first nothing happens but I notice that instead of a door opening this time, a hole has appeared in the floor. I gingerly lower myself through it and drop into what lies below.
I land with a splat. I look down to find that I am ankle deep in vile-smelling mud. A quick Lumos confirms what I fear; the path in front of me is full of the stuff. The walls of the tunnel are made of the same stone of the castle so I assume that I am beneath it, hopefully not too near the dungeons. Filch or someone must have been down here recently as there are footprints in the mud, some of them very deep. I am certain of one thing, there is no way I am walking through that mess.
I smirk as I remember the trick Harry pulled with the dragon in the Tri-Wizard tournament and summon a broom. I wait for some time before it occurs to me that no broom will be coming. I think of an alternative. It is too far down the tunnel to jump and Wingardium Leviosa only works on objects, not people. Growing frustrated, I turn my eyes heavenward for some kind of inspiration and notice something. Hanging from the ceiling are a network of pipes, perhaps the plumbing for the castle. I can see now how the mud got here, most of the pipes are dripping badly, but perhaps I can use them to get across somehow.
I know that the dripping pipes will be very slippery and the tunnel is cold. It will be hard for me to hold on to the pipes long enough to get across. There has to be some spell that will help.
“A warming spell will keep my hands from getting too cold,” I think aloud, “but what about the water?”
Still thinking, I wonder if there is a way to clean the water off the pipes. Even if that is possible, still more will drip out of the pipes and I would have to keep repeating the charm. Suddenly, I get an idea. I know of a drought charm that dries up water but I don’t know if it will dry up the water in the pipes. I decide that it wouldn’t hurt to try.
I aim my wand at the pipes and say the spell and instantly the water dries up. I wait a few moments to see if it will reappear and when it doesn’t I cast a warming spell on my hands and jump to catch the nearest pipe. It groans with my added weight and I know I have to work fast to get across the mud before one of the pipes break. There are times when I really have to stretch to get to another pipe but I make it across to a dry patch in the floor. There is an archway up ahead and I stride towards it, wondering what the next task will be.
As I step through the archway I notice a large stone carving of a book in the corner. Perched on this carving is a brightly colored bird that is obviously singing, though I hear nothing. I hesitantly step towards the carving, warily watching the bird. Magical animals have never been one of my strengths. Near enough to the carving I see that there are words cut into its surface. They read:
The way ahead is sealed, and the door will only open to the Fwooper's song. Remove her silencing charm at your own risk.
The bird looks harmless enough but I know the power of the Fwooper’s song and I am more afraid of this bird than some of the most fearsome magical creatures in existence. The Fwooper’s song can turn one mad, and madness is something that I have feared since the Death Eaters attacked my parents. Still, I remind myself that I am a Gryffindor and I have something to prove. I will need to cover my ears with something and I fear my hands won’t be enough. I have nothing in my pockets to cover them with or even to stick into them. I begin looking around for something to transfigure, it won’t be easy, I’ve never really been that good at Transfiguration either. I find nothing in this room, but an idea forms quickly in my mind.
I run back through the archway and to the edge of the mud. I scoop up a little and hastily form it into a ball. It is very difficult to transfigure anything out of mud because it is so formless itself but I concentrate on the earmuffs we wear in Herbology when dealing with mandrakes. Try after try, nothing happens and I am growing frustrated and exhausted with my efforts. Finally, after what seems like hours, a pair of fuzzy pink earmuffs appears. I slump to the ground and rest, and then I slip on the earmuffs and make sure that I can’t hear a thing. I run into the next room and hastily remove the Silencing charm on the bird. A door opens and I run through it as fast as I can; this bird scares me almost as much as the Dementor. I slam the door behind me and it is a while before I dare to remove the earmuffs.
I’m still suffering from having to deal with the Fwooper and therefore not paying very good attention to what is around me. I know that I am in a corridor so I begin to walk down it slowly, keeping a hand on the wall. I get halfway through the corridor when a jet of light shoots out from the wall. I am still in too much of a daze to dodge it and the spell hits my wand arm, which begins growing uncontrollably. It is not long before I cannot even hold my wand. I am in such a state of despair that I cannot even remember a spell to reverse the swelling, or even remember what the spell is that has just hit me. I slide down the wall and rest on the floor. I must calm down and think straight if I am going to get out of this place.
I rest for several minutes and try to calm myself down by remembering that the Fwooper is no longer a threat. Before long, I can remember the name of the spell that causes things to grow like my wand arm has: Engorgio. It is a straight-forward spell and therefore should have a straight-forward solution. I remember the time that Lupin used the Finite spell take a Tarantallegra Hex off of me. I wonder if it will work on this, especially if I have to use my other hand to cast it.
I pick up my wand and point it carefully at my wand arm and say the spell clearly. My arm shrinks a bit, but is still uncomfortably large. I try again and my arm shrinks some more. I keep trying until my arm is back to normal and I am careful not to shrink it too much. I slowly get up and warily look around, thinking I must be more careful, and make my way out of the passage.
There is a set of stairs at the end of the passageway that leads out into the night. Most of the maze has vanished now and I only see a pathway which I assume leads back to the castle. I start along it, happy to be near the end of my mission and happy that I have gotten this far. It is not long, though, before I come to a fork in the path. One direction, the one that seems to lead straight to the castle, is free of obstacles as far as I can tell except for a thick green mist. From the other side I can hear cries for help and I don’t even think about it before I am running in search of the source of the cries.
“Please, it’s just my leg; I just need some help getting it out. I think it’s broken,” I hear as I get closer. It is the voice of a girl, and judging from her voice I would say that she is as scared as I am.
I finally find her; it seems that the wind blew down a limb from a nearby tree and pinned her leg. The limb is not too terribly large, but surely too much for her to lift, and soon enough I heft it off of her and free her. It is only when I see the cauldron and the jars of ingredients that I realize this is part of the maze and not just an accident. I stoop over to see the ingredients I have to work with and I realize that they are common and what’s more, could be used in simple antidotes and healing potions. I could try to brew a healing potion if I could remember how, Potions was always my worst subject.
I make sure that the girl is comfortable and the get the cauldron set above a small fire that I conjure. I make a base of murtlap essence because it’s all I can remember for the moment. I poke through the rest of the ingredients hoping that the names might jog my memory and wish for the thousandth time that Hermione was here.
“Hellebore, bicorn horn, daisy,” I mumble to myself. Nothing is coming to me so I sit back and think for a minute. I broke my wrist in first year when we first rode our brooms. Did Madam Pomfrey use a potion or a spell to heal me? I’m almost sure it was a spell, but this requires a potion.
Hesitantly I mix some hellebore, nettles, and some lionfish fin to the potion. All of these ingredients have healing properties in some way or are used as thickeners so I hope they work together. The cauldron hasn’t exploded and I take that as a good sign. Now, should the girl drink to potion or should it be applied to her leg? I look into the cauldron and decide that since the potion is awfully runny, I think she should drink it. I conjure a small cup and fill it with potion. I hope that it doesn’t harm her further as I hand it to her and as soon as she finishes drinking it, she disappears with a small pop. I have no idea whether I should move on or if I must stay here.
I start walking down the path again and nothing stops me. I am nearing the great oak doors of the castle when a bucket of soapy water suddenly gets dumped on my head. I know it can only be one person, nay thing, that could be behind all of this nonsense: Peeves. I look up and he begins cackling madly:
"Row, row, row your boat
gently down the stream...
when Neville sees the soap,
he begins to scream"
I have always been one of Peeves’ favorite targets and I think that this prank has been one too many. The poltergeist is still laughing hysterically when I let loose my arsenal:
“Black sheep, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Better give some to Peeves
To mop up all that drool”
I aim a well-placed Aguamenti and Engorgio charm at Peeves’ mouth, enlarging his salivary glands and making him look like a rabid dog. There is so much froth that he cannot even talk and I am fairly sure that no one will help him for a while for this very reason. He speeds through the castle doors and I follow, quite smug.
As I enter the castle I notice that there is no one around. This is not entirely strange, it is the middle of the night, but one of the teachers should be patrolling or something. I am making my way back to the Gryffindor common room when I hear someone calling my name from far away. I start running towards the common room and suddenly bright, white light floods my eyes.
“Neville, Neville, come on Neville wake up.” Harry is shaking me and the morning sun is bright in the dormitory.
“Harry! Harry, did you see the maze? I got through the maze Harry! Me!”
Harry looks at me as if I’ve suddenly sprouted another head. “What maze, Neville? There isn’t any maze and there hasn’t been since fourth year, thank goodness. Get up, we’re going to be late for breakfast.”
“But Harry there was a maze, I swear it!”
“Right, Neville, whatever you say.” Harry goes out the door and leaves me to get dressed. I cannot believe that the maze must have been a dream; it felt way too real for that. I sigh and roll over, my hand going under the pillow so that I may push myself up out of bed. I stop dead when my hand grazes something cold and made of metal. I pick up the pillow and I smile. Laying there, in all its glory is an award. The engraving says:
Neville Longbottom, Master of the Maze.
Neville Longbottom's Quest for Glory by Sneaky_Rhae
Chapter Notes: Thanks to Lys for betaing for me!