Kapitel 50: Chapter 50: Neville’s Odd Behavior

"Mr. Longbottom, what are you doing wandering the corridors at such a late hour?" Professor Sherlock Forester questioned, peering at a pallid Neville who had unexpectedly arrived at his office. Outside, the sprawling Hogwarts grounds were engulfed in the darkness of nightfall, and it wouldn't be long before the grumpy Caretaker, Argus Filch, would commence his nightly patrol.

Neville, looking rather unwell as if he was warding off a minor cold, stammered in reply, "P-professor... I... I need your assistance with a spell."

Professor Forester furrowed his brows upon hearing this. Neville seemed not only physically unwell, but also appeared to be in a state of mental disarray. "Indeed, which spell does have you scurrying to my office at this late hour, Mr. Longbottom?"

The boy gulped nervously before admitting, "The Incendio spell, professor. I can't seem to execute it correctly. My wandwork seems all wrong, and I can't emulate the written instructions in the textbook."

Neville's voice was barely above a whisper, but his earnestness and obvious frustration were evident to Forester.

Without immediately addressing Neville's issue, the professor cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow, querying, "The Incendio spell isn't typically within the second year curriculum, is it?"

In response, Neville mustered up his courage and attempted to maintain a facade of composure. However, his averting gaze betrayed him.

"The temperature is dropping, and the common room fireplace keeps going out. I thought mastering the Incendio spell could help us to be less reliant on older students to rekindle the fireplace when needed." Even without taking into account Neville's previous nervousness, Professor Sherlock Forester could sense the boy was not being truthful.

Widely known as the most timid of the lion-hearted Gryffindor students, Neville's odd request was far from his typical behavior. Sherlock Forester, maintaining his stern gaze, questioned, "Is this the full story, Mr. Longbottom?"

Feeling the burning focus of the professor's stare, Neville seemed to struggle internally, battling an invisible urge. Eventually, he confessed, "Yes, professor, I merely wish to master the Incendio spell to simply rekindle the fireplace."

Maintaining a steady gaze over Neville's face, Professor Sherloack nodded after a long stretch of silence. "Very well then. Show me what you have learned of the Incendio spell thus far."

Taking a deep breath, Neville eagerly demonstrated his interpretation of the spell. The professor attentively watched each movement, patiently guiding him through each motion.

"Remember not to raise your wand too high, Mr. Longbottom. Also, your hand should remain steady throughout the casting. This will ensure a stable flame, reducing the chances for unintentional fires."

Taking each step of Sherlock's guidance to heart, Neville repeated the spell, his actions mirroring his newfound understanding, even amid the inevitable clumsiness.

Under Sherlock's patient tutoring, Neville finally managed just in time, to master the basics of the Incendio spell before curfew. As the final intense flames burst from the tip of his wand, he turned to the professor and stuttered out a heartfelt, "Thank you, Professor Forester, I am exceptionally grateful."

Sherlock quietly nodded in return. "Should you encounter a predicament you deem too complex, know that you can approach me, Mr. Longbottom. Remember, you're still young. Some things can be difficult to face alone, and that's why I am here for you as your Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Neville's lips thinned and pressed together upon hearing Sherlock's words. He looked as though he was grappling with incongruous emotions before finally answering, "I am doing fine, professor. But should I ever require your aid, I will certainly approach you."

Departing from the office, Neville cast one more glance at Sherlock before closing the door behind him. The door shut with a soft click, leaving Sherlock alone with his thoughts.

Recollections of his first encounter with Neville stirred in his mind; specifically, the memory of the unexplained burning sensation on his left arm. Given the strange behavior of the boy, Sherlock was certain there was something that Neville was withholding.

What relationship Neville's actions had with the chilling secret of the Chamber of Secrets remained a mystery. Sherlock couldn't force him to divulge anything against his will. Learning Legilimency, the spell to penetrate the mind, wasn't something easily accomplished and even then the ethics of using it on a twelve year-old student of his were questionable at best.

Regardless Sherlock did not yet have mastery over it, so he had to resort to other means of investigation. By keeping a close watch on Neville's behavior around the castle with the help of the Marauder's Map, he hoped to uncover the truth. His previous promise to return it to the Weasley twins would have to wait.

In the following days he would not only require the map to monitor Neville, but he also needed to determine how to remove himself from the map. After all, when he did return the map to the twins, he couldn't possibly afford them the privilege to track his every move. Once he'd accomplished those two tasks, he'd return the Marauder's Map as promised.

Later in the Gryffindor dormitory, Neville exuded his usual quiet demeanor. In a surprising turn of events, Harry and Ron had turned in early while Seamus was still engrossed in his potions assignment.

Upon seeing Neville's return, Seamus innocently queried, "Where were you, Neville? You weren't in the common room earlier."

Neville, with a weak response, claimed, "I had gone to return some library books." Seamus didn't seem to suspect otherwise.

The midnight hour descended upon the castle like a velvety cloak, weaving an air of intrigue and enigma. From the shadows emerged a figure, draped in mystery, and with a reverent touch, he removed a small object of unknown significance from beneath his bed's majestic canopy. The common room served as a silent witness to his fluid, soundless movements as he embarked on a stealthy journey towards the fireplace.

Upon reaching the hearth, the figure's hand tightened around the object, knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip. His eyes, shimmering like stars in the dim light, gazed deeply into the heart of the dancing flames, as if seeking approval from the ethereal realm. With an almost ceremonious motion, he raised the item above the flickering tongues of fire, and without hesitation, he chucked it into the hearth, releasing it to the whims of destiny.

Drawing a breath, the figure's grip on the wand tightened, the wood seemingly attuned to the pulse of his emotions. With unwavering resolve in spite of his fears, he pointed the wand towards the flames and spoke the incantation that had occupied his every waking moment for the past days, pouring his soul into the incantation. "Incendio!"

A radiant surge of warmth cascaded into the dimly lit common room, enveloping every nook and cranny in a mesmerizing tapestry of warm, amber hues. Within this enchanting illumination, the profound melancholy etched on Neville Longbottom's countenance was revealed, drawing one's gaze into the depths of his soul.

In that fleeting moment, the weight of ages seemed to rest upon his shoulders, as he reflected upon the events that lead him here. He had unlocked a fragment of the castle's deepest mysteries, and as the last ember of the spell faded, leaving only smoldering embers, the figure hoped that this mystery would remain locked, as it should be, for eternity.