Neville said goodbye to Gran and passed through the barrier onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. It was the first time he had been out of her sight for weeks and she was loath to let him go. She made him insist he write to her on a regular basis and only finally released him when Harry arrived with Sirius, no, Neville thought, Professor Black. He accompanied them onto the platform.
Though only students were required to take the Hogwarts Express to school, Black had elected to travel up with Harry himself, rather than make his own way there. Harry did not seem to be too much embarrassed by this; evidently he got on really well with his guardian. Now that Neville had had a proper opportunity to meet Black for the first time, he had to agree with Ron’s assessment of the man. Black was Harry writ large, a joker and a charmer, enthusiastic and prone to fits of energy. He perhaps lacked Harry’s talent for easy-going natural friendliness, but otherwise it was not hard to see why they were so close.
They quickly found the Weasleys on the platform, they were after all so many, all unmistakeably topped with flaming red hair. All that is except Percy, whose neatly trimmed hair was a lurid shade of green with purple spots. Behind him Fred and George were grinning manically, until Mrs Weasley noticed them and wearily undid the twins’ prank with a wave of her wand. Percy gave the twins a silent look of disdain and stalked off alone towards the train with as much dignity as he could muster.
“They’ve been pulling pranks on him all summer, ever since he got made Head Boy apparently,” Ron informed Harry and Neville. “I think it’s their way of congratulating him.” Ron had returned home the previous evening to collect together his things for Hogwarts, and was now taking the opportunity to fill Harry in on all the latest Weasley gossip. Ron and Harry went off chatting together, sharing a joke with Fred and George. Professor Black was talking to Mr Weasley. Neville turned and suddenly found himself face to face with Ron’s sister Ginny.
“Hello Neville!” said Ginny brightly. “Did you have a good summer?”
“Uh, yes thanks,” Neville replied, startled by her sudden appearance. “You?”
“Oh, good. Fred and George made endless fun of me over what happened last year. I think it was a good thing Ron wasn’t around to be on the receiving end of it. I hope my second year ends up quieter than yours.”
“Yeah.” Neville could sympathise with that remark. Ginny Weasley’s first year at Hogwarts had been remarkable by anyone’s standards, ending as it did with her taking on a basilisk virtually single-handed. Though Neville had struck the final blow, personally he thought all the credit belonged to Ginny and her courage and determination to save her brother. Afterwards though, Ginny seemed to take the opposite view.
Neville noticed that Ginny seemed a lot more comfortable around him now than she had been. He guessed that facing a basilisk together was likely to do that, not that he had any prior experience to draw upon. However, he found that at this moment he had no idea of anything to say to Ginny himself, so there was an embarrassed silence before Ginny moved off to talk to Harry and her brothers.
Neville stood there alone for a moment, until a loud cry of “Neville!” rang out behind him. Turning, he was confronted by another surprising sight. What appeared to be a large ball of ginger fur on legs, surmounted by a garland of bushy brown hair, was walking towards him. When it reached him, the ball of fur was lowered to reveal the face of Hermione Granger, beaming broadly. “Great to see you again.”
“What on earth is that?” asked Neville. In answer, Hermione rotated the ball of fur round in her hands to reveal a flat, squashed-looking face with long whiskers. A thick brush of a tail tickled Hermione under her chin.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” said Hermione, stroking the cat’s back. “I call him Crookshanks, because he’s got these little bandy legs. He’s ever so intelligent too. Daddy bought him for me in Diagon Alley.” Neville regarded the cat carefully and the cat seemed to stare back at him intently with its beady eyes. He gave it a gentle stroke, before turning away and sneezing heavily. “Oh dear, I hope you aren’t allergic,” said Hermione sympathetically.
There was no time to discover if that was true, as everybody was piling onto the train. Black seemed keen to find a particular compartment. He hurried Harry along the corridor towards the back of the train. Ron followed, along with Neville and Hermione, who was keen to meet the new teacher. Eventually Black ducked into a large compartment near the rear of the train and the four children joined him.
“Important place, this compartment,” he said wistfully, taking a seat just inside the door on the right hand side. “This is the very spot I first met your dad, Harry, on our first trip to Hogwarts. I was sitting here, James sat opposite from me.” He indicated Harry to sit in his father’s old place; the rest took up seats nearer the window. “Just seeing you sit there brings it all back. Your mother was here too to begin with I remember. Little Lily, she was so small back then. She left quickly, James must have scared her off. No, that was it, Snivellus came in…”
“Snivellus?” Neville asked. “I’ve heard that name before. Where was it?” Black was now looking rather uncomfortable and tight-lipped, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t.
“He means Snape,” Harry helpfully added with a grin.
“Professor Snape?” exclaimed Hermione. “You were at school with Professor Snape?”
Black sighed deeply. One person he definitely did not want to be reminded of at this point was Severus Snape. He was not looking forward to coming face to face with him again, though he comforted himself with the thought that Snape was probably relishing the reunion even less. “Yes, I was in the same year as Snape,” he answered, “and since he’s your teacher as well, I think I’ll avoid saying any more.” That was unusually diplomatic of him, he thought. It was going to be a strange year.
“Don’t worry,” piped up Harry. “I’ll fill you in later.” Black rolled his eyes and looked across at Harry. For a moment it felt as if he was with James again, back on the way to school like all those years ago. Only one thing was missing, or rather two…
Neville saw Black relax back in his seat and drift off into reminiscences. While he lay there with his eyes closed, the kids chatted amongst themselves, about their summers and the term ahead. Neville noticed that Hermione was much more comfortable in talking to Harry and Ron, she now seemed to have got over the last of her remaining antagonism towards the pair. Ron however was reticent in talking to Hermione, and rather subdued. Neville suspected it was still lingering (and entirely unwarranted) guilt over Hermione being Petrified in the previous year. Since Neville considered himself more to blame for the events than Ron, who was not responsible for his actions, he hoped Ron would get over it soon.
After a while, a gentle snoring sound began to emanate from Black, and Neville took the opportunity of his sleeping to ask Harry about him. “Has he always been a teacher, then?”
“Sirius?” replied Harry. “No! It came as a surprise to me, too. He’s never really had a steady job, he’s worked at this and that, whatever takes his fancy at a particular moment. He worked in one if the Diagon Alley shops for a while, then he quit that and wrote a column for the Daily Prophet for a bit, then he gave that up and worked for the Post Office. Nothing lasted, he always got bored of it or found something new. He’s a bit like that. Still, we’ve never been short of money. We’ve a fair bit of money come down from our families.”
“But why teaching all of a sudden?” asked Ron. “Especially the Defence job. You know what they all say about that.”
“What do they say?” said Hermione.
“That it’s cursed.”
“Oh come on, Ron,” interrupted Harry. “You don’t believe that, surely.”
“Well you tell me why no one ever lasts more than one year in the job. And it’s not just the last couple of years. It’s been going on since at least my brother Bill’s time, so he says.”
“Coincidence. It’s a tough job. Hey, maybe Sirius will get bored after a year and quit. Would that satisfy the ‘curse’?” Harry laughed to himself.
“More to the point,” interjected Hermione, “is he going to be a good teacher? I don’t want to have to get the whole year from books.”
“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” answered Harry. “But he definitely knows his stuff, that’s for sure. He fought in the war alongside my dad. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know he faced a lot and came through. He’s really put in a lot of effort in the last few weeks preparing.”
“Won’t it be a bit weird having him around?”
“So long as he doesn’t give me detentions, I’ll cope,” Harry grinned. He seemed to find the whole idea great fun. Neville was a little surprised. After all, the idea of his guardian becoming his teacher would fill him with utter dread. Just another reason for him to envy Harry, he supposed. He and Black really seemed to get on well together.
The train passed on, into the Scottish Highlands. Outside, the weather was taking a turn for the worse and the sky was turning grey. Light was beginning to fade as well and dusk was rapidly approaching. Neville guessed they were not far now from Hogsmeade station. Black was still snoring gently and Harry was showing an enthusiastic Ron and a largely disinterested Hermione his current Chocolate Frog card collection. Neville stared out of the window as mist swept across the view and rain began to fall.
Suddenly there was an almighty lurch and the train slammed to a halt. Black half tumbled out of his seat and woke with a start. “What was that?” he exclaimed blearily, getting to his feet.
“We’ve stopped,” answered Neville, stating the obvious.
Black stared out of the window, concerned, but the mist was too thick to see anything. “This train never stops,” he muttered. He moved to the door of the compartment and opened it, peering up and down the corridor. “Wait here,” he said. “I’m going to go and investigate.” He stepped out of the compartment and headed off in the direction of the front of the train.
Neville, Hermione, Harry and Ron sat in silence, waiting for Black to return. The darkness outside seemed to deepen rapidly and the mist encroached ever closer. Ron shuddered and rubbed his hands together. “Does anyone else feel cold?” he asked.
“Now you mention it, yeah,” replied Harry, and Neville nodded. The temperature certainly seemed to have dropped a few degrees. Neville began to shiver. There was something oppressive about the sudden cold, it seemed to penetrate deep into Neville, freezing him from the inside. It made him feel numb and uncertain, and his heart beat harder against his chest. Looking at the others, he could see they were feeling the same way too.
All of a sudden something shot past the window. It was for no more than a moment and if Neville hadn’t been looking in that direction, he wouldn’t have seen it. It was nothing more than a flash of black, a deeper shadow against the grey background. “Did you see that?” he called out, but no one had. Was it his imagination, or had it got even colder as it had passed by?
There was a creaking sound from down the corridor of the train and the half-open sliding door of the compartment rattled back and forth. Everyone stiffened in their seats. They knew something was happening, but none dared to move or look outside the compartment. Neville could feel danger approaching as surely as if he could see it.
Another dark shadow passed in front of the window. This time it moved slowly, hovering outside in the gloom. It was human-sized, shrouded in black, its edges fading into the mist. Then yet another appeared, and another, and each time one did so it was like a pang in Neville’s heart. “What are they?” Hermione breathed, almost inaudibly, but nobody answered.
The door rattled again and everybody’s heads snapped round to look. A hand was placed on the door, forcing it open, but it was no human hand. It was not truly skeletal, but not wholly flesh; it was decayed, putrefying. The door slammed back, revealing a huge, cloaked creature like the ones outside. Its cloak was black, hiding all features, but the darkness in which they were hidden was if anything blacker, an emptiness, a total absence of light.
Neville felt his bones freeze, and the darkness seemed to envelop him, and all he could see was night. All warmth and joy was lost. Then out of the night he heard a voice. “Never, never!” it screamed, a woman’s voice, terrified yet defiant. “I would die before I let you touch him!”
“Very well,” replied a cold voice, and there was a flash of green against the black. Neville’s heart became a knot, and almost stopped.
Then, from far away, very far away, he heard another voice yelling, “Harry! Harry! Expecto Patronum!” For a moment there was light, and then Neville collapsed and knew no more.
* * *
Neville swam painfully back into consciousness. He was vaguely aware of a lot of to-ing and fro-ing around him. A large arm was propping him up in a standing position. He blinked hard and tried to focus his eyes. Gradually things became clear.
He was standing on Hogsmeade station. Most of the students ahead of him were filing towards the coaches. The large arm belonged to none other than Hagrid, towering behind him. “’Ere, you’re awake,” he said as Neville began to move and gingerly tried to put weight on his feet. “Take it easy, Neville lad. You’ve ’ad a nasty turn. Hey, Sirius!” he called out down the platform. Black was walking towards them. “Neville’s awake. Think you can take ’im now? I’ve got to go man the boats.” Black crouched down and put an arm around Neville’s back to support. “Thanks. See you at the feast.” Hagrid lumbered off.
Black carefully helped Neville along the platform and onto one of the coaches. Inside Neville found Harry. He looked terrible, his face was white and although he was awake, he was breathing heavily. That must be how I look, Neville thought, and he was not wrong.
Black got in as well and they set off. “How are you?” he asked Neville.
“Miserable,” Neville answered. “I feel all weak and drained.” He found talking was uncomfortable too.
“That can happen.” Black tapped the pockets of his robes in frustration. “I should have got you something both to eat, I’m sorry. I’ll grab something when we get to the castle, and we’ll go straight up to the hospital wing.” He rubbed Harry’s shoulder in encouragement.
“What were those things?” asked Neville faintly.
“Dementors,” replied Black. There was anger and disgust in his voice at the name. “Have you heard of them?” Neville shook his head. “Evil creatures. They feast on emotions, all happiness, all joy. They drain them from their victims, leaving them weak and with only fear and despair left inside, if they stay too close for too long. To allow them amongst children…” Black was incensed.
“Where did they come from?”
“The Ministry uses them to guard Azkaban, to keep the prisoners in line. Barbaric, but it works, so they say. They’re here searching for Remus Lupin. You’ve heard about him?” Neville nodded. “What crazy reason they’ve got for thinking he’s on the Hogwarts Express, I don’t know.”
“How are Hermione and Ron?”
“Fine, fine. A little shaken, but that’s understandable. Only you two were really affected. You both passed out. Actually, you took a lot longer to come around than Harry. I was getting worried.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Neville, but he wasn’t. He was thinking about the voices he had heard before he blacked out. He thought he knew what they were. But how was that even possible? He looked across at Harry, who hadn’t spoken and was lost in his own thoughts. Why had only they suffered so badly?
Eventually they got to Hogwarts and were taken up to the hospital wing. Professor Black had to leave them there, he had to be in the Great Hall for the start of the Welcoming Feast. They were left in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey, who checked them over carefully, offering her own stringent views about Dementors and feeding them a bar of chocolate each. Neville was slowly beginning to feel better and felt himself warming up again at last.
Harry was keen to leave and get down to the feast, but Madam Pomfrey held them until she was convinced they had recovered. At last she let them go, and they hurried down to the Great Hall. Slipping in as quietly as they could, they snuck over to the Gryffindor table and sat down, while the last of the new intake were being sorted.
Neville took a seat next to Hermione and assured her he was okay, as the Sorting came to a close and McGonagall took away the Hat. Neville looked up at the teachers’ table. He saw Hagrid, taking up three spaces by himself, and Black at the near end, chatting to a woman he believed was the Muggle Studies teacher. At the opposite end of the table, as far from Black as was possible, sat Snape. His eyes were focussed on Black with an undisguised look of utter disgust and contempt.
Dumbledore got up from his central chair to address the hall. “Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone,” he said. “I must for once beg your indulgence and make few important announcements before we begin the feast.” There was a murmur around the hall from the older students. Dumbledore never usually did this. “First, some happy announcements. We have new staff joining us this year.” He first introduced Hagrid, who was apparently taking over as Care of Magical Creatures professor. There was much cheering, especially from the Gryffindor table. Neville half regretted deciding not to take the course.
Secondly, Sirius Black was introduced as the new incumbent of the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. He was given polite applause, and stood to acknowledge it with a bow. Neville noticed that the Slytherins in general had not participated in the applause and Snape’s usually pallid face had briefly taken on a most colourful shade of purple.
“Now for more serious matters,” Dumbledore continued after the applause had died down. “It is my duty to inform you that this term and for the foreseeable future, Dementors will be stationed around Hogwarts castle. They are here for your protection, against a certain individual who may pose a danger to this school. They will not enter school grounds, but I advise you all not to stray, for Dementors are dangerous creatures, and not to be trusted. They cannot be reasoned with, they cannot be attacked. For your own safety, be on your guard.”
There was tone in Dumbledore’s voice that Neville had not heard before. It was concern, almost worry. As he sat back down, for a moment his eyes alighted on Neville sitting at the Gryffindor table, and Neville realised all too well how deadly serious his warning was.
Neville Longbottom and the Prisoner of Azkaban by Sonorus
Chapter Notes: In which the journey to Hogwarts is interrupted by Dementors boarding the Hogwarts Express.