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Chapter 230: The Wise Girl

If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.

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16 July 1994, Longbottom Manor

Neville lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his forehead, precisely near his infamous scar. He sat up, one hand still on his scar, and sighed with disappointment as he saw the blood on his pillow.

He groaned as he stood up. He always had a headache after that happened. The events that he had dubbed as 'the scar nightmares' were starting to be a reoccurring thing ever for almost a month.

As he always did, Neville opened his notebook and tried to write down whatever he remembered from his dream. He remembered a dark room, a giant snake, a very smooth yet threatening voice… Glowing red eyes looking back at him in the mirror… Voldemort… He had found a servant, a very loyal one at that…

He wrote this down next to a bunch of random words on the previous page. Not knowing was just so frustrating.

Neville hadn't thought much about the Dark Lord for a while… Ever since his first year, really. Apart from the fact that he discovered that the events of the Chamber of Secrets were true, with, Tom Riddle's diary, Lord Voldemort had very little impact on Neville's life ever since his first year.

Funnily enough, Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore had more impact on Neville's life than Voldemort, and wasn't that a sick joke?

And yet, Lord Voldemort was obviously getting stronger.

Neville wasn't an idiot; he knew that the scar was some kind of connection he had with Voldemort. It explained why it hurt him so much whenever he was near or felt some kind of intense emotion in his first year. This sudden surge in activity and intensity was worrying, to say the least. He had immediately told his grandmother about it, and even Healer Jones. She had given him some meditative exercises, but he didn't see the point as his dreams occurred when he was asleep, not when he was awake.

The former Longbottom scion shook his head and stopped his train of thought. It was too early for this kind of pessimism. Healer Jones and his grandmother were obviously doing the best they could do to help him. And he had an exciting day ahead of him.

After gobbling his breakfast, Neville Longbottom found himself twitching in anticipation and anxiety as he waited in his living room. He had the entire manor to himself; everyone had given some excuse or another to leave the place, probably at his grandmother's prompting. The Longbottom Matriarch could probably intimidate a Nundu with that glare of hers.

Oh, he still wasn't welcome in any way by the rest of the Longbottom family, after his disownment, but they warmed up to him slightly. They mostly considered him to be like some kind of extended guest, but nothing more.

While he still didn't like it, Neville had learned to live with it. Those people had often taken care of him as a child, played with him, snuck him treats when his grandmother wasn't looking, and their dismissal hurt him immensely. He hadn't realized how much his disownment would have affected him until he had left Hogwarts.

Healer Jones helped him process the emotions while talking with him about it. Neville was technically under house arrest for casting the killing curse at Snape, and he was stuck in a place where his former family tried its best to forget about him. She was right; talking about it helped. The mere fact of voicing his feelings, and putting everything into words, made a weight lift from his shoulders.

The woman had also coached him in a field of magic called Occlumency to better deal with the nightmares. It was a way to blank his mind and gain some control over it. It was far more abstract than that, but a good mastery of his own mind and emotions could help him block out the scar's influence even further, recognizing when it was affecting him in some way and getting some help urgently. Progress was slow since this field of magic took years to become proficient at, but it was progress, nonetheless.

One day at a time, Neville was getting better. He was dubious of the mind healer, at the start, but the results were better. Neville was noticeably calmer, felt more relaxed, and didn't feel like the whole world was against him. They still hadn't done anything about his scar; they just couldn't find a way to do it. Every couple of days, Neville's grandmother brought some expert or another, sometimes even an entire team of curse breakers to analyse his scar for hours at a time.

Neville's grandmother looked even more concerned when he started having his scar nightmares and waking up with his scar burning and sometimes even oozing blood. It didn't help that he couldn't remember much from his dreams, just a mixture of emotions and quick flashes.

They were annoying and Neville often dreaded falling asleep. But until someone could find a solution, he had to live with it and make the best of it. That was a crucial lesson Healer Jones had taught him. People have had things far worse than him, despite his recent misfortune, but have risen higher than they ever imagined. Life was about making the best of what they had instead of wishing and lamenting in the past.

His train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. Neville stiffened and ran towards it, smiling brightly as he recognized the person on the other side. It was hard not to, with her brown bushy hair and slightly large front teeth, "Hermione!"

"Good morning, Neville. Excited to see me, are we?"

"I can't believe you're here. I haven't seen you for over a month, and even then, we didn't get to spend a lot of time forever," he complained.

He was right, of course. Even if their meeting had lasted for less than an hour, Hermione needing to return to the Department of Mysteries for some kind of mysterious operation, it had been by far the best hour he experienced for over a year. Seeing his best friend, alive and walking, after over a year without any news… It was hard to describe how he felt.

Relief, happiness… It was like a cocktail of emotions kept swirling inside of him. He had almost thought she was a fake, an illusion, and had asked her a few embarrassing questions just to make sure it really was her.

Her mere presence made him feel like his previous year hadn't happened, even for a fraction of a second. It had rekindled a fire within him that he thought had been extinguished. One that he had forgotten had even existed. Hope…

The muggleborn giggled, "Well, at least I'm staying the entire day with you this time. You know, if you'd have told me a year ago that the Unspeakable acted like mother hens, I wouldn't have believed you… Now, though…"

"I've been meaning to ask; how did they cure you?"

Hermione looked away for a moment, "They haven't, not really…"

That struck Neville speechless, "I don't understand."

"It's kinda complicated and there's a lot I don't understand. I was writing on this diary, Tom Riddle's diary, which was, for some reason, enchanted to hold a soul. With every confession I made, I metaphysically bared my soul to it. Normally, it wouldn't have been a big deal. People had diaries all the time and they do the same. But there was something else inside it, something that trapped me in the price of getting out. However, it died soon after. It was too late for me to get out on my own, but the exchange wasn't fully completed yet. The Unspeakable used the drop that remained to forge a connection between the diary and my body, tricking both of them to recognize the other as an extra member of some sort. I'm still in the diary, and yet I'm here."

"Isn't that a bit weird? I mean being in a diary and your body at the same time?"

Hermione snorted, "Very weird. It took a lot of time to forge the connection, months in fact, and I had to willingly leave the diary. It… It wasn't an easy thing."

"Why is that?"

"The diary was more than just a prison. It was like someone had curated an entire world to keep me inside, and it was just made to make me happy. It was literally my paradise. I had to choose to return to the real world. Leaving it was… hard. Imagine finding yourself in a world where your parents are alive, where you are loved, and cherished by everyone. Where nothing bad happens to you. It wasn't hard to see that it was a fake world in hindsight. But something not being real doesn't make it a bad thing…"

Neville decided to change the subject, considering just how sad his friend was getting, "So, what's the Department of Mysteries like? I've heard stories, but I think they're exaggerating…"

"It's far less glamorous than you'd think. The department essentially handles the artefacts confiscated by the ministry. They do their best to study them, understand the enchantments and log them in some kind of repository. They had smaller departments, studying curses, certain supernatural events, even time… They don't really try to create new things, just contain and understand what has already been made. I heard some grumbling from the older Unspeakable complaining about a lack of proper advancement since Dumbledore voted in some law a few decades ago."

That was anti-climactic. People spoke of the Department of Mysteries like some kind of underground secret agents and researchers that controlled the country from the background, manipulating events to their satisfaction…

Hermione shook her head, "That's enough about me. How have you been? I know a bit from the Unspeakable and the letters we exchanged but you didn't mention Ron once…"

"We're not really friends anymore. When you were gone, I just realized how badly we treated you. Ron moved on, like nothing happened, blaming me and I guess we just drifted apart."

"Please tell me you've been keeping up with your studies. I already missed an entire year…"

Neville snorted, "As if the great Hermione Granger would let something pesky like being trapped in a diary stop her from learning…"

"Stop being mean, Neville. And don't be so smug, I'm going to test you to make sure you're up to par. I can't have my best friend failing his year."

"Of all the things that happened, I think my coursework will have very little impact on my life."

The muggleborn's expression turned sad, "You messed up horribly, Neville. We both know that, but now you have me to keep you in line. You were alone before. But now, you have me. And to prove this to you, I brought you this."

Hermione took out something from her robes and revealed a small box that she handed to him. He gave her a confused look as she motioned him to open.

The former Longbottom scion shakily opened the box and saw a nice silver locket on it. He opened it and saw a moving picture of him and Hermione. He remembered that moment. It was during their second year. Colin Creevey had taken it without him noticing just at the start of the year in their common room.

Neville felt himself choking when Hermione commented, "I know it doesn't look like much but try to put it on."

The moment he did so, Neville felt some warmth settling in and felt his mind getting a bit clearer. He gave her a hesitating look, "Your grandmother told a few Unspeakables about your condition. I know it's a breach of privacy but when I mentioned the nightmares, asking for their help, they gave me this after a few weeks. Apparently, they made it, especially for you. You could wear that at night, and hope that there wouldn't be any nightmares."

Neville jumped and hugged the muggleborn with all his might, "Thank you."

He would deny there being any tears in his eyes. But it did feel really good to have someone on his side again, a true friend.

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As the night ended, a young woman entered the Ministry of Magic. She walked towards the elevator, without anyone batting an eyelash. She got off in the second-lowest level of the ministry, ignoring the back-tiled walls and the blue-white lights that glowed with every step she took. She ignored the Entrance Chamber trying to disorient her and touched a specific part of the wall, revealing a hidden door inside.

She entered the room and addressed the masked man sitting in the office, "Agent Athena, reporting for duty."

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AN: Don't worry. I'm sort of writing about the situation from the worst side. I'm sort of done kicking Neville while he's down. I won't say anything else to avoid spoilers but there's a reason why I handled Hermione the way I did.

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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.

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