Neville hurried back to his chair and sat down as Gran and the mysterious wizard came into the kitchen. ‘Get up, get up Neville,’ said Gran. ‘Greet our guest properly. Neville, this is Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.’
Neville swallowed nervously, but the wizard seized his hand and shook it vigorously. ‘It’s been a long time, Neville. How are you?’ he asked.
‘W-w-w-well, P-p-p-professor,’ stammered Neville. He wasn’t good around strangers. ‘B-but sir, we’ve never met.’ He had heard of him, for sure, Dumbledore was legend, but Neville had encountered few people in his short life and this was not one of them, he was sure.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Excuse me a moment.’ He took out a wand, gave it a wave and a large plush armchair appeared in front of him in the middle of the kitchen. He settled into it. ‘Does me good to rest my feet,’ he smiled. ‘Sit down Neville, I have some things I must tell you. It is perhaps only now that you are ready to hear them.’
Neville sat awkwardly and looked nervously up at Gran. ‘It’s alright,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry Neville. We agreed when we took you in that this day would come. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. We felt it was for the best.’
Neville looked searchingly at Dumbledore, whose face was sad. ‘I am only sorry George is not able to be here today,’ he said, glancing at Gran. ‘He was a good man, and a fine wizard, Augusta.’ Gran merely nodded silently. Neville thought of poor old Grandad and his smiling face and how he’d wasted away. Neville had been there when he died. That had been four years ago now. He still missed him.
Neville was absently drifting away into memory, but a gentle cough from Dumbledore brought him back to the present. ‘Neville, when you’ve been out and about among other wizards, have you ever had strange looks or people acting oddly towards you? As if they know you?’
‘N-Not really,’ said Neville. ‘But we don’t go out much.’
‘We thought it best to keep him away from all that, Professor,’ said Gran. ‘We did our best to shield him from the trouble it would cause.’
‘Quite, quite,’ said Dumbledore. ‘But a boy needs to understand the world, Augusta.’
‘We taught him well. He knows all about our world.’
‘I was not talking about our world, Augusta. I meant the world in general. Life. But I trust that Hogwarts will teach him that. Indeed it is more important than any magic we teach there.’ He turned back to Neville who was reminiscing again. Now he thought about it, he did recall some odd instances in the past… He looked up. Dumbledore was smiling at him and looking into his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said, and lifted up his hand and gently brushed aside Neville’s hair from his forehead. ‘It was because of your scar.’
‘M-my scar?’ stammered Neville. ‘But it’s just an ordinary scar. I got it as a baby. W-when my parents died. In the war. T-the house collapsed and I got hit by something. What does that have to do with anything?’
Dumbledore smiled gently. ‘George and Augusta told you as much as I would allow them, Neville. You weren’t old enough to understand. Neville, do you know who killed your parents?’
‘Y-yes. Death Eaters,’ said Neville. He spat the name out as if it were poisonous.
‘No, Neville. It was Lord Voldemort.’ Augusta gasped and Neville yelped at the name being spoken.
‘Professor!’ exclaimed Gran.
Dumbledore waved his hand. ‘I do not apologise at speaking his name, Augusta. To hide behind circumlocutions only makes the fear of him greater. Yes Neville, it was Voldemort who came to your parents’ house that night nearly ten years ago. It was Voldemort who killed them. And it was Voldemort who then turned his wand on you.’
‘He tried to kill me?’ cried Neville.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Dumbledore. ‘But he succeeded only in giving you that scar. The curse failed and Voldemort’s powers were destroyed. His weak, houseless spirit fled into the night.’
‘B-but a great wizard defeated Voldemort. A hero,’ said Neville, looking up at Gran, who would not take his eye.
‘No, Neville. No hero. Just you. But that night and that scar has made you a hero. Though we kept it from you, you are famous across the wizarding world. I believe they call you the Boy who Lived. A curious title, and not one I prefer, but there’s nothing we can do about such things. I hold some quite absurd titles myself, you know.’ He sighed. ‘That night I made some tough decisions and only now am I reaping the penalties. I had you brought here and Augusta and George kindly agreed to take care of you for the sake of their son. I asked them to keep the full truth from you until you were old enough to understand. And at their insistence I promised to return and explain to you the truth myself, when you were ready. This I have done today. I can only say that I am sorry.’
Neville sat there, half open mouthed. It was so much to take in, he didn’t know what to say. Gran put her hands on his shoulders to comfort him.
‘So when I go to school, everyone will know who I am?’ he said finally.
‘Everyone will know your name and your story,’ replied Dumbledore, ‘but that does not mean they know you. You are not just a note in the pages of history, Neville. You are a person, and the best among your schoolmates will understand that. Reputation does not make a man, only what he truly does. Beware the friend who is interested only in your legend and not in yourself.’
‘But my magic is so poor. Won’t people turn against me if I don’t live up to who I’m supposed to be?’
‘Sadly, our world does set too much store by the level of a person’s abilities and not by how they use them. But you will always find those who know otherwise. Trust in them, and you will not be alone.’
Neville sat silently, and felt cold. He was trembling, though he didn’t realise it. The enormity of what had happened was overwhelming him. Only a short while before he had been the happiest boy in the world. Now he felt as if that whole world was bearing down on his shoulders.
‘Don’t be so afraid, Neville,’ said Dumbledore gently. ‘I will not say there is nothing to fear, for in this world that is not true and I dislike lies, but fear is not always a terrible thing. The world is a remarkable place and at all times there is hope, even in the most unlikely of places. Always think on life as an adventure. It is what I try to do. You have questions, I see?’
So many, thought Neville, though it was hard to put them into words. ‘I killed him, You-Know-Who, did I?’ he finally asked.
‘No, Neville. I believe what happened to him was none of your responsibility, not directly at any rate. Nor did I say he died.’ Neville stared at him. ‘Yes, child, I believe he lives yet, though in form so weak he poses no threat at the moment. One day, he may return, though long may that return be delayed. You have no further questions?’
Neville felt unable to speak and shook his head. ‘Well, in time you may find words to express more. For now, I shall leave you with your thoughts.’ He stood up, waved his wand and the armchair vanished. ‘Goodbye, Neville,’ he said, ‘and congratulations on being accepted to Hogwarts. I shall follow your career with interest.’ He smiled one more time and followed Gran to the door, leaving Neville sitting in a daze.
Suddenly Neville sprang up and rushed to the door. Dumbledore, on the front step, turned. ‘Ah, so you do have a question,’ he said.
‘Yes, Professor. Why did You-Know-Who try to kill me, and why didn’t he succeed?’
For a moment it seemed to Neville that Dumbledore hesitated, as if unsure about something. Then he spoke. ‘Those are far greater mysteries than you might think, Neville. Another time might be better to search for answers. Good morning.’ And with that he stepped out of the door, raised his wand and with a ‘crack’ he vanished.
Neville Longbottom and the Philosopher's Stone by Sonorus
Chapter Notes: In which Neville is told the truth about his parents and Dumbledore reassures him.