“Gillyweed?” said Moody, when Neville explained his discovery at their next training session. “Very impressive, Neville; it’s not something that had occurred to me. Professor Sprout has been known to comment on your talent for Herbology at staff meetings. I can see what she meant. The trouble remains how to procure some. It is not a native plant to this country. No doubt Snape keeps a supply in his stores, but it would raise too many questions if I simply asked him for it, even if I could stomach asking him for anything.”
“Don’t worry sir, I have a plan,” replied Neville. “I have, er, a friend who will definitely be able to get it from Snape’s stores without alerting anyone. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Excellent,” said Moody. “With this issue dealt with, it frees up plenty of time to deal with other problems you might encounter. The only truly dangerous creature in the lake is the Grindylow. Vicious creatures, fortunately there are several jinxes which might serve to repel them. Let’s begin. Wand out.”
Neville took out his wand, but before Moody could introduce the first spell, interrupted to ask, “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is it between you and Professor Snape? Is it some kind of rivalry,” Neville glanced over at Sirius, “or is it more serious than that?”
Moody looked grave. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you, Neville. But suffice to say it is more serious, far more serious, and Severus Snape is not someone worthy of trust under any circumstances. Nor should he be teaching at this school.”
“Dumbledore seems to trust him,” Neville pointed out.
“Dumbledore has his faults, same as anyone else. I only hope this one does not come back to haunt him. I have made my views clear to him on the matter, but if he chooses not to listen, there is nothing I can do. That’s all I will say on the matter.” Neville did not press the issue any further.
Over the course of that lesson, and the next several, Neville learned a number of new spells and was reacquainted with some old ones. Using Sirius once more as a duelling partner, Neville practised Relashio, Impedimenta and Petrificus Totalus amongst others, but perhaps the most important new spell Moody taught him was the all-purpose Stunning spell, Stupefy. Neville had seen the spell used before, but had never learnt to use it himself, and Moody regarded the spell as essential to any wizard’s basic repertoire.
“Stupefy is the most fundamental and most effective of all combat spells,” explained Moody. “It’s relatively simple once mastered, easy to use and versatile. Unfortunately it is relatively easy to counter, but that will not be an issue here. The key to the spell is a strong wand arm and a good aim.”
It took Neville five sessions of intensive practise before he could finally produce the spell, but once he had, he felt very comfortable using it. There was something about it that felt very comfortable to him, compared to many other supposedly simpler spells he had struggled with before. He remarked on this to Moody, who nodded his head and told him, “I am not surprised. Your father was an avid exponent of the Stunning spell. In fact, it was sometimes all I could do to get him to use something else occasionally. It’s not a good idea to get too fixated on one spell, no matter how good you are at it.”
With training sessions and fitness work taking up much of his time and thought, Neville’s schoolwork again suffered in the run-up to the Second Task and he was once more paying little attention outside of his favourite subjects: Herbology, Muggle Studies and Moody’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class. In Potions, rather concentrating on the concoction in front of him, he found himself studying Snape, trying to work out the root of Moody’s particular paranoia towards him. But Snape was just his usual stern, impassive self, except that Neville did notice he had developed a habit of absently scratching his left forearm at times.
Away from the classroom, Hermione was spending more time with Krum or, it being February and Hermione being Hermione, already worrying about the end-of-year exams in June. The Marauders were busy making mayhem by themselves, so Neville was increasingly spending his time with Ginny. As they became closer friends, Neville was beginning to see more of her usual energetic, outspoken, popular personality. The fun times they had together helped take Neville’s mind off the approaching Second Task.
Two weeks out from the Task, Neville had been feeling confident, but as each day ticked by, he began to get increasingly nervous. Whilst this challenge did not seem so terrifying as facing the dragon, he had started to imagine all the ways it could go wrong. What if the Gillyweed didn’t work, or didn’t last long enough? What if he became trapped by the Grindylows or some other creature? It increasingly fell to Ginny to calm Neville’s anxiety.
When the day of the Task finally came, Neville awoke early to a crisp, clear morning. Dressing and making his way down to the common room, he found the Marauders there waiting for him. “Hail to our Champion!” they cried, and Fred threw a tiny firework into the air which burst and showered golden sparks down on Neville.
“Er, thanks, guys,” said Neville, a little embarrassed. “Have you seen Ginny and Hermione?”
“Sorry, no,” replied Harry. “I expect they’ve already gone down to breakfast. Let’s go.”
But neither Hermione nor Ginny were in the Great Hall for breakfast and nobody had seen them that morning. After breakfast, Neville took a detour from the Entrance Hall down to the portrait which concealed the entrance to the kitchens. After a short while waiting there, Dobby appeared in front of him. “I have it, Neville Longbottom,” he said, opening his palm to reveal a wad of slimy grey-green plant tendrils.
“Thank you, Dobby,” said Neville, taking the Gillyweed and putting it in his pocket. “Did you have any trouble?”
“No trouble. Dobby was in and out very quickly.”
Neville reached into his other pocket and pulled out a pair of red thick woollen socks. “These are for you,” he explained. “You need a pair of socks to go with those shoes or you’ll hurt your feet.”
Dobby took the socks reverently. “Dobby is most honoured. Good luck, Neville Longbottom.” Dobby bowed, and vanished. Neville once again reflected on the remarkable abilities of house-elves, for which he was most grateful.
The north-west shore of the lake was already crowded with people when Neville arrived. A couple of temporary stands had been set up for spectators although, Neville thought, there was hardly going to be much to see. The Marauders had erected a banner proclaiming “Go Neville!” Sirius was with them and they all cheered as they saw Neville arrive. Moody was sitting quietly in a corner, his magical eye carefully surveying the scene. A mixture of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students made up the crowd, each giving vocal support to their own champion. There was still no sign of Ginny or Hermione.
A shrill voice from just behind him cried out, “There you are, Neville! I was beginning to worry you would be late.” Neville turned to find himself confronted by none other than his Gran. Although Neville knew she was coming, he was still startled by her sudden appearance. She looked him up and down sternly. “Your hair’s a mess. Did you comb it this morning?”
“It’ll be soaked through with lake water in a minute, Gran,” Neville pointed out.
“Don’t talk back, Neville. Well, it seems that teaching you to swim wasn’t an entirely wasted activity. Are you prepared? Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“Yes, Gran,” Neville replied. Before Gran could say anything further, Bartemius Crouch called over to Neville to take his position with the other champions. Neville was lined up on the shoreline with Viktor, Fleur and Cedric in front of the special seats set aside for the five judges. Neville noticed with a smile that Dumbledore had transfigured his seat into a plush armchair and was relaxing with a contented look on his face.
Crouch took his seat while Ludo Bagman rose to introduce the task. “Last night, something of great value was taken from each of our champions, and is now being guarded by the merpeople at the bottom of this lake,” he explained. “Our champions have one hour to find and retrieve this item and return safely to the shore. Points will be awarded for speed in completing the task as well as inventive and effective use of magic.” He looked at his watch and paused for a moment, before announcing, “Champions, your time starts now.”
The four students waded out into the shallows of the lake. It was horribly cold. As the water reached Neville’s waist, he pulled the Gillyweed out of his pocket and stuffed it in his mouth. It tasted foul and he swallowed it as quickly as possible before diving beneath the surface.
The lake deepened rapidly away from the shore and Neville found himself sinking rapidly in the cold water. At first, nothing seemed to happen and he quickly found himself desperate for air and scrabbling to return to the surface. Then suddenly there was a tingling on either side of his neck like a developing rash. He put his hand to his neck and felt the gills growing there. Within seconds, cool much-needed air was flooding into his lungs and he began to relax.
But the Gillyweed had not yet finished. Webs were growing between his fingers and toes, and his feet were becoming like flippers. He kicked forward with his legs and found that he was propelled forward with impressive speed. Swimming seemed almost effortless as he glided through the water. It was an exhilarating sensation.
He muttered, “Lumos,” to light his wand and dove down deeper and deeper to where the sunlight from above struggled to reach. Moody had advised him to keep as close as possible to the lake’s bottom to help navigation; the merpeople’s village was at the deepest point of the lake and all Neville had to do to reach it was to ensure that he kept travelling downhill.
Curiously, the further he dived, the warmer the water seemed to get, or else his body was becoming acclimatised to the cold. The bottom of the lake was thick with weeds and the light from Neville’s wand did not cut far into the darkness. Keeping as clear from the weeds as he could, he set off cautiously, keeping a close watch out for Grindylows.
He did not have long to wait. He heard a slight hiss behind him and, swinging round his wand, lit up a green creature with long fingers bearing down on him. Neville’s first Stunning spell missed, and caused his mouth to fill with water, making him instinctively gag until he realised he was unharmed. His second Stunner struck the Grindylow in its flank, and it disappeared out of view. Neville breathed a sigh of relief through his gills.
But the red flash of the spell had only served to attract further Grindylows, and before he knew it, a whole shoal of them was bearing down on him. Neville kicked forward, swimming as hard as he could, but the Grindylows pursued him, snapping at his heels. Neville’s attempts to blast them away seemed ineffective and, in desperation, he dived down into the thick weeds, hoping they would not follow him.
The weeds tangled themselves around him and it became impossible to move at more than crawling pace through them, but the Grindylows did not follow. Neville briefly extinguished his wand, hoping they would lose interest and swim away. He waited for as long as he dared before emerging and relighting his wand. To his relief, the Grindylows seemed to have gone. Not wanting to wait around for another confrontation, Neville set off again as fast as his arms and legs would manage.
He swam on and on for what seemed like ages. Wondering how long he had been underwater, he looked at his wrist. It was only then he discovered he had forgotten to put on his watch that morning. Cursing his errant memory, he kicked on with further determination. Soon, as his arms were beginning to ache, up ahead he saw an eerie light in the distance. The light seemed to be rising up from than trickling down from above. Neville swam on towards it.
Above, at the shore of the lake, the crowd waited for any news, staring out over the perfectly calm water. No champion had yet been seen. Bagman was pacing up and down nervously, glancing at his watch every ten seconds. Crouch was sitting alone, idly sipping a cup of tea supplied to him by his house-elf. The three headmasters were engaged pleasant conversation. In the stands, Sirius whispered to Harry, “They should be reaching the village about now.”
Luminescent water creatures trapped inside crudely fashioned transparent containers sent on poles provided the light that had attracted Neville to the mermish village. Neville approached cautiously; Moody had warned him to be wary and respectful of the merpeople and not to seem like a blundering intruder. Reaching the edge of the village, Neville could see that it was little more than a hotchpotch collection of stone houses and buildings, clustered around a central square. All seemed quiet.
Slowly, Neville picked his way between the buildings towards the square. Emerging into the open area, he saw that it was thronged with merpeople. Neville had seen a merperson before, and he thought they looked an ugly sight. They were thin, their bodies tapering into scaly fish’s tails. They had bony arms, wide eyes and straggly hair. Many carried rudimentary spears and looked menacing. None however moved to block Neville’s approach.
Neville swam gingerly forward, expecting at any moment for the merpeople to charge down at him, but none moved. Then, in the middle square, bound securely by thick ropes to a stone statue, Neville spotted four figures. They were motionless, and their heads were bowed. As he got closer, Neville gasped and swallowed a large quantity of water. He instantly recognised two of the figures. They were Ginny and Hermione.
At once Neville understood. These were the “items” they had to recover. Now he looked closely, he could see that the other two were the girl Cedric had taken to the Yule Ball, Cho Chang, and a small blond-haired girl who could only be Fleur’s sister. Clearly, they each had to rescue one person. Cedric would come for Cho, and Fleur for her sister. But who was Neville supposed to rescue?
It took a moment for Neville to realise that the answer was obvious. Whilst Krum would come for Hermione, none of the others were close friends with Ginny. He wondered who decided it would be Ginny of all people who would be taken from him. Was it the judges or the merpeople themselves?
He reached the four girls unhindered. They each appeared pale and stiff, and did not seem to be breathing. Worried, Neville felt Ginny for a pulse. He could not seem to find one, but knew he probably wasn’t doing it properly. Surely they were alive? What was the point of trying to rescue them if they were already dead?
Neville paused for a moment, and tried to think calmly and Hermione-like about the situation. Of course the four girls were safe. This was only a game, after all. He realised he should be more worried about himself. How long had he been underwater, and how long did he have left? And if he did not return to the surface with Ginny within the hour, perhaps then she might be in trouble.
It was then Neville realised something which astonished him, something which his slow brain had only just grasped. All four girls were still here. That meant he had got here first. How was that possible? Was he lucky to have only been attacked once, or were the others still lost, searching for the village? He knew though that he did not have time to dwell on his good fortune. He had to get Ginny out of the lake as soon as possible.
He lifted his wand to sever the ropes binding Ginny, but realised rather sheepishly that he didn’t know any spell that would work. He cast around for something sharp. A thin-edged stone was sticking up out of the mud close by. He tugged it out and tried to set to work sawing through the rope, but it was too tough and barely a few strands frayed away.
Whilst he was wondering what to do next, he caught sight of an object approaching out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw that it was Cedric, swimming down to join him. A bubble of air was conjured about his nose and mouth, and he had a gash on his left arm. Neville indicated the ropes and held up his stone to show what he was trying to do.
Cedric nodded to show he understood and retrieved a stone of his own. He then held out his hand to ask for Neville’s stone. Puzzled, Neville handed it over. Cedric took the stones and chipped away at them with each other, sharpening both. When he’d finished, he handed one back to Neville. Neville mouthed, “Thank you,” and together they continued on cutting through the ropes.
Neville seemed to have the sharper stone and, as he had already made some progress before Cedric had arrived, cut through his rope first. Cedric indicated not to wait for him. Neville pulled Ginny free and, gripping her by her right arm, kicked upwards from the lake floor. Despite the buoyancy provided by the water, Ginny was still heavy to haul for Neville’s weak arms and only slowly did they move up and away from the merpeople’s village.
Just as they rose clear of the stone houses, something fast shot down past Neville. It moved like a blur, but Neville could swear it looked like a shark, though he knew there were no sharks in the lake. He did not stop to look back, but swam on. Moody had warned him against rising to the surface too quickly, so he swam at an angle, up and back the way he had come. It was still a long way back to the shore. He was beginning to see sunlight above.
Suddenly, and out of nowhere, he was surrounded by Grindylows again. A dozen of them rose up out of the depths below him, trying to seize at his and Ginny’s feet. Desperately, he tried to fight them off with Stunning spells, but they were ineffective. One grabbed hold of Ginny’s leg and he had to bash at its hand with his fist until its fingers broke and let go. It seemed inevitable they would be overwhelmed.
Then, just as suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light all around him. It had not come from him, or the still unconscious Ginny, and it blinded Neville for a moment. When his eyes focussed again, the Grindylows had scattered and fled. Neville was at loss to explain this unexpected rescue. Maybe he had done some unconscious magic, but that seemed unlikely.
His confusion was forgotten about however, as soon as he realised the webs between his fingers were dissolving. The Gillyweed was wearing off. Hurriedly, he kicked once more for the surface, rising up as fast as possible, keeping a firm hold on Ginny. He could feel the itching sensation on his neck again. The light was getting brighter and brighter above as he held his breath for the last few yards.
His head broke the surface just as the gills on his neck faded away. Thankfully, he gasped in the cool air as he lifted up Ginny beside him. As she too felt the air on her face the enchantment on her broke and she opened her eyes, the colour returning to her cheeks.
Neville looked around. He was still over a hundred yards from the shore, where the crowd was clapping and cheering. He looked closely at the crowd, and then all around him. There was no other champion to be seen. Amazingly, unbelievably, he had returned first. “You did it, Neville!” gasped Ginny. “You saved me! You won!”
Neville was astonished. He and Ginny swam to the shore. They had nearly got there when, behind them, Cedric and Cho emerged. Exhausted, Neville staggered up onto the shore, where he was smothered in a towel and checked over by Madam Pomfrey the school nurse. Ginny sat down next to him as they watched Cedric and Cho come in, followed a short time later by Viktor and Hermione. They all had to wait a long time before Fleur and her sister reached the surface. Fleur looked injured; she had several cuts to her face and arms. It was discovered later that she had suffered quite badly against the Grindylows.
The judges went into conference, while Ginny hugged Neville and Sirius and the Marauders cheered and chanted, “Ne-ville, Ne-ville!” Eventually, Bagman stepped forward to deliver the results.
“In reverse order,” he announced, “fourth place to Miss Delacour, 33 points. Third to Mr Krum, 41 points. Second to Mr Diggory, 45 points, and the winner, with 46 points, Mr Longbottom!” There were wild cheers, and more loud applause.
Then the most unexpected thing of the whole day happened. Amidst all the euphoria, Ginny threw her arms around Neville and, after a sideways glance at Harry, kissed Neville full on the lips.
All of a sudden, everyone seemed to go quiet, as if nobody quite knew how to react. It was Neville’s first kiss, and he found it warm and very pleasant indeed. When Ginny finally released him, he looked around at the various faces. Gran had a look of mild bemusement. Sirius and the twins were grinning; Harry looked surprised but not concerned. Ron’s face was a mixture of confusion and fierce anger. Hermione had a slightly raised eyebrow.
“Oh, why not?” thought Neville, and kissed Ginny again.
Neville Longbottom and the Goblet of Fire by Sonorus
Chapter Notes: In which the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament takes place.