Published at 27th of May 2024 12:13 am

Chapter 192: Lengthy Desperation

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18 February 1994, Hogwarts

Harry sat in the arena after his duel, if one could even call it that. He felt bad for George Weasley, losing in such a way to someone two years younger than him. Thankfully, the redhead was a good sport, claiming that he was impressed by the 'prank' or something. Sure, Harry was taking a piss at the whole event and messing with Dumbledore, but he didn't see how this duel was a prank, and let it go. The Weasley twins did seem in better shape since the first task, where they won a hundred galleons by winning the preliminary for their year.

He still remembered the sour look on Dumbledore's face as he gave Harry his prize gold and congratulated him. It was something he committed to memory. If he had a Pensieve, he would have watched the memory again and again, whenever he felt frustrated. The mere thought brought a smile to his face. It was a shame that the artefact was very rare and extremely expensive. It just wasn't worth spending a warded manor's worth in gold just for a fancy artefact that he wouldn't use all that often. Dumbledore was lucky that there was a Pensieve bound to the headmaster's office in the school. There was a legend that the four founders of the school discovered that particular Pensieve half buried in the ground in the location where the school would be built. This was supposedly one of the reasons the school was located in such a remote location. Of course, the fact that it was under a nexus of leylines made that little theory slightly suspect in Harry's opinion.

As for his friends, they were doing well so far. Daphne was currently on the platform, playing with Malfoy, who was doing his best to survive for as long as possible. If Harry believed that the match selection was rigged before, now he was certain. In the lower year bracket, Slytherins dominated the other houses, probably because most of them had enough gold to get tutors over the years. First and Second Years were often advised to learn how to defend themselves since after their third year, the Court of Slytherin would stop actively offering them their protection for free, meaning that they had to pay for one of the enforcers to take action.

Slytherin was a sink-or-swim environment, and so, most members had to learn to fight, if only to survive in the house. Most houses didn't have to deal with that, and it showed. Dumbledore probably wanted to curb this by arranging for Slytherin students to eliminate each other. Harry did have his doubts since Longbottom was paired up with Cassius Warrington, a pretty competent fifth-year, in his first fight. He couldn't understand Dumbledore's decision to risk his show pony in the first round. Neville would have been better off fighting Crabbe or Goyle. Maybe the headmaster had faith that Neville would win somehow; the boy had been getting a lot better since the start of the semester. Harry was proud of him at first, but now, knowing how that improvement came to be, it just left a bad taste in his mouth.

The crowd gasped as Daphne sent icicles at Malfoy, who huddled behind a hasty shield. His performance was the most lacklustre by far out of the six recruits to the Court of Slytherin. Not that Daphne cared about that. She was showing off to Astoria, who was sitting next to him and had stars in her eyes, "That's so cool. Did you see that? That's my sister!"

"Yes, I saw that, Astoria. I was the one who taught her that move. You're going to want to see what comes next. It will be very impressive, I promise you."

The younger Slytherin didn't have any signs of having heard him. Draco was in an exact position that taught Daphne how to finish. The blonde started with a reductor curse, that Malfoy's shield held against barely, and followed up with a particular charm that Harry didn't see duelers use much. It was a simple one that created a black cloud whenever it hit its target, which in this case was the shield. Seeing that her opponent was blinded temporality, she cast a shield breaker, followed by a very strong gust of wind. Malfoy probably didn't even feel his shield break before being thrown away by a large gust of wind, that cleared the arena. Daphne then finished it with a stunning charm, ending the duel.

There was the usual applause and cheers, of course, and Harry heard Astoria mutter, "This was so cool!"

The last Potter simply ruffled her hair, making her whine in annoyance, "Told you that your sister was awesome, right?"

"Yeah. Everyone is impressed with you guys. Mum and Dad are so proud of Daph, and you should have seen how many women swooned when Blaise forfeited for Tracy. Oh, it was just so romantic."

Harry gave her a small smile in return. He was pissed when Blaise and Tracy's duel were announced, thinking that it might strain their friendships as well. But it seemed to have ended well enough. Blaise was never really interested in being in the Court of Slytherin. It was obvious that he was doing it solely for Tracy, and it was nice to see him show that to her by forfeiting. Tracy genuinely looked like she wanted to snog him when he was leaving and since they haven't really been since then….

The green-eyed boy couldn't help but smile faintly. Tracy and Blaise have been insufferable this year, but it was still nice to see their relationship flourish.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by someone poking him in the shoulder, "Harry, do you have a minute?"

He turned and saw Neville looking at him with a blank look on his face. Damn it, as far as Harry was concerned, they were even. He had told his grandmother about his scar, and in exchange, his conscience was clear of any wrongdoing he did to the boy.

Alas, they were in public, and Harry wasn't tactless enough to tell him to fuck off with spectators around. Plus, he wasn't going out of his way to help the boy anymore, but that didn't mean that they couldn't be cordial with each other.

Harry turned to Astoria who was looking curious as him, "Do you mind if I leave you for a minute? Your sister should come here anytime soon."

"Sure," the blonde simply retorted.

Harry nodded at her and followed Neville away from the crowd. The Longbottom scion was taking him to the school grounds for some reason, which was weird since it was a bit chilly, and they didn't have their cloaks. Still, Harry cast a small warming charm on himself and walked with Neville towards the lake.

They stood there, completely silent until Harry had enough, "So, what did you bring me here for?"

"I wanted us to talk alone. I know you're not a malicious person. I know that you wouldn't really hurt me. You could have told me to get lost back in the train at the start of the year and I would have accepted that. So, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt…"

Harry tilted his head in confusion, "About what exactly?"

"What did you tell my grandmother?"

The young Slytherin froze at that, "I told her what I found out about your condition. I gave her all the details and let her make her own decision. She said that she'd take you to specialists or something, and then she would make her decision."

"Well, I went to those specialists. They have no fucking clue what's wrong with me. I don't even know what's wrong with me and Gran wouldn't tell me anything."

"She's your guardian, Neville. It's completely her right to not tell you."

Neville's face reddened, "But it's alright for you to know?"

"I figured it out and have a theory. I'm not a healer and I am certainly not an expert in obscure magic. Maybe someday, if I work hard enough, but not now. I'm a third-year student just like you."

"I deserve to know! And bullshit. You probably know more magic than some of the professors here. So just fucking tell me!"

Harry shook his head, "Not without your grandmother's permission. I promised her that I wouldn't say anything to anyone else, and that includes you."

"Well, thank you for your integrity," the Gryffindor replied with a snarl, "Because I'm probably going to be disinherited because of your little theory."

"She's really going to go through with this so quickly?" Harry muttered, "I thought that she'd take more time to see if there are any other options."

"You knew about this?"

"She mentioned it but said that it was a last resort if the healers couldn't do anything."

The boy who lived's face reddened in anger, "Well congratulations, the healers couldn't figure out a way to stop whatever is happening. Some experts, they are…"

"You can't really blame them. Your condition is unique in the very sense of the word. Too many arcane magics interacting with each other in weird ways. I still don't know for sure what's going on."

"And you're getting my grandmother to disinherit me on a theory that you're not even sure about?"

Harry calmly responded, "I'm not getting your grandmother to do anything. This was entirely her decision and it's likely to save your life."

"I lived with my scar for twelve years, Harry. It wasn't killing you."

"You didn't have your crest activated before."

The child of the prophecy growled in response, "Is that what this is? You're jealous that I'm getting better, that I might surpass you, and you're trying to stop me."

"That's preposterous, Neville."

"It makes so much sense. You saw how much my crest was helping me improve and you wanted to stop that."

"THAT'S ENOUGH, NEVILLE!" Harry yelled, frustrated by the boy in front of him.

He took a deep breath, "You're hurt. You're angry. You feel betrayed, like the entire world is conspiring against you. But the truth is that this scar is a danger to you and it's using the crest to warp your thoughts. You're not being yourself right now. You need help."

"I don't need help," Neville sneered, "I was fine on my own, without you intervening."

"I didn't intervene. You did. You're the one who told your grandmother because you knew that something was wrong. You're the one who realized what you might lose to get better."

"I don't need to get better. I'm fine just the way I am. I just have to manage my temper, that is."

Harry responded in a tone as dry as the desert, "So, Warrington was what, an accident?"

"Yes!"

"And how many accidents do you need to have before you finally see that something is wrong? Are you going to wait until you maim someone, or worse, kill someone? This isn't you, Neville."

The Longbottom scion froze for a moment, "No, this will never happen again."

"Are you really willing to gamble with other people's life? Your grandmother is not doing this out of hate or spite, and neither am I. It's why I told her the pure truth."

"I TRUSTED YOU!"

Harry shrugged, "If you thought I was lying you wouldn't have told her. Trusting me was the right move and let me tell you why. You're being influenced by a wizard so evil, so unnatural, that people wouldn't say his name a decade after his presumed death. Do you think you can win a contest of will between you and him? And if you defeat him, are you sure you'll still be yourself in the end? Aren't you ever going to wonder if every decision was yours or a compulsion from your scar? Do you even want to risk that?"

Neville still didn't look convinced, and Harry continued, "Do you know what could happen to you? You could slowly morph into Voldemort. You would get angry quickly, then you'll just curse anyone who annoys you. A piece of Neville Longbottom would be discarded away for more pieces of Voldemort to grow. Or even worse, the scar could hijack your crest entirely and pull you to the background. You will find your way to the back of your head, while the scar takes in the reign fully. You will be forever a prisoner in your own mind as your body kills everything you ever held dear. Your grandmother had a choice, this or disinheriting you. If you ask me, being disinherited is the kinder fate of the two. You have to make a choice, either be a Longbottom and a monster, or not be a Longbottom but still remain yourself. I wonder what your parents would have done if the choice was in their hands."

And with that said, Harry turned and went back to the castle. He wouldn't waste more time on a stubborn boy who just wanted to rant, not knowing the danger that he was in.

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