Chapter 98 : The Unseen Guardians

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"He… ugh…" Neville gulped once and lifted his head to look Harry in the eyes. "He walked into my compartment and started making fun of me having a frog for starters." The boy said, pointing at a bulge on his robe's pocket where his pet frog, Trevor, was currently residing. "Then he started asking if I had brought another Remembrall with me and then Pancy, she was there too, started wondering out loud how a coward like me ended up in Gryffindor." He blushed and bit his bottom lip then, presumably to prevent himself from crying, or from embarrassment, from saying too much. Harry knew that had always been one of Neville's problems; he didn't see himself brave enough for Gryffindor. Personally, Harry thought he was being obstinate in his disbelief, obstinacy being a characteristic flaw of Gryffindor in itself.

"He's just a bully. All his friends are." The green eyed wizard stated seriously. "You shouldn't pay much attention to him, Nev."

"But he's right." Neville persisted, his gaze on the floor once more. "Everybody knows I'm almost a squib." Harry snorted, gaining the other boy's attention.

"You're not a squib, Neville." Harry offered. "First of all, there's nothing wrong with being a squib. But you have more than proven that you can cast spells." The green eyed wizard reminded him. Neville smiled softly and pulled out his wand, looking at it contemplating. It seemed worn, Harry realised, as if it had been used for many years instead of one. And as if it had seen rougher days, he imagined, as his own wand was still in pristine condition; "your greatest ally", Merlin had called it and Harry had taken his word for him.

"I just want to do my parents justice." Neville admitted. Harry looked between the wand and Neville rapidly before he made the connection.

"Nev, is that… Is that one of your parents' wands?" It would make sense if it was, the boy figured; it would definitely explain the wand's state -it seemed as it had seen battles- and Neville's inconsistent perform in spellcasting.

"It is, was, my father's." The boy admitted, his head hang low. "Grandmother says I should work harder to make him proud. She said that, one day, I will be worthy of his wand, I don't know if I ever will." Harry, listened to his monologue with wide eyes.

"Believe me when I say I mean no disrespect, but Nev, you can't cast spells with someone else's wand. Well, you can," Harry amended, seeing Neville's eyes widen in confusion "but the result won't be the same. This wand," he said, pointing at said wand in Neville's hands "doesn't recognise you as its master. You weren't chosen for it and you didn't win it in a duel. It's fighting your magic every time you cast a spell." Harry explained.

"You think so?" The boy asked, looking at the wand critically. His eyes shone with a timid hope, just a little sparkle, but it seemed to transform his whole face. "But… My grandmother says…"

"She wants something to remember your father by. But you shouldn't be it." Harry offered kindly. "I think a wand of your own would do miracles for your spellcasting."

"Really?" Neville asked, his smile openly hopeful now.

"Of course!" Harry assured him. The other boy smiled a little brighter before losing all his newfound joy in the blink of an eye.

"But what do I tell my grandma?" He asked terrified. "I asked her, last year, if I could get a wand of my own and she looked at me as if I had insulted her."

"But she surely must see…" Harry begun, but Neville's forlorn expression informed him otherwise. "You know what?" He asked smirking. "Give me some time to think about it." He had heard stories of Neville's grandmother. Augusta Longbottom was known for her strict character and seemed to have been the one from where Neville had inherited his stubbornness. "I'll figure something out." Harry promised, making Neville's smile widen again. They went on talking about anything and everything for the next few hours, buying something to eat from the cart and having fun with Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans.

Harry couldn't believe how he hadn't spent more time with Neville last year; he was genuinely interesting and he seemed well versed in Herbology -his personal favourite subject- making for a great conversation. He decided to amend for last year's neglect starting immediately; it felt nice to have someone his own age to talk to. Only when Neville left to retrieve his trunk promising to meet with Harry at the carriages did Harry realise what had happened; he had forgotten of Adrian! How could he forget of Adrian? Sure, he was with Ron and their parents were at the station with them probably but still. How had he forgotten of his brother? He was his responsibility after all!

The night began to fall and Harry changed into his robes with trembling hands, all the time blaming himself; something must have gone wrong. It must have! He descended the train, following the rest of the student body towards where he thought would be the famous horseless carriages of Hogwarts -with the exception of the first years who headed to the boats- his mind barely reminding him that they were in fact dragged by Thestrals; the hair of one of their kind was a part of his wand core and they were only invisible to those who hadn't witnessed death. He should have expected the sight that greeted him but, with worrying about his brother, it hadn't even crossed his mind.

All thoughts of Adrian were violently expelled from his mind once more as he locked eyes with a pair of dead, white ones. The Thestrals were of skeletal appearance, with rich black manes and tails, milky white eyes and two horns sticking on each side of their heads. And he could see them. His mind flew back to images of blazing fire and a man screaming as a voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Unnerving, isn't it?" George Weasley asked. "Carriages that move on their own, I mean." He elaborated.

"Don't worry too much!" Fred added, pushing a reluctant Harry inside. "You'll get used to it." Harry nodded numbly, trying to get the image of a dying Quirrell from his mind with mild success. He waved at Neville to join them in the carriage and had only half his mind focused at the conversation as the Thestrals started pulling the carriages towards the castle. It was only after they got seated at the Gryffindor table and Percy wondered out loud where his brother was that he managed to snap out of his dark mood.

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