Neville could feel that the snake Malfoy had conjured, wanted to hurt Justin, the muggle born from Hufflepuff.
He wanted to stop it, but without a plan in his mind, he yelled, “STOP!”
Once again he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Leave him alone!”
To his surprise, the snake understood his words. It then slumped down on the floor, docile as a thick black garden hose, with its puppy eyes staring at him. He smiled seeing his accomplishment, he didnt know how he did it, but it didnt matter to him. He then glanced at Justin, instead of being happy, the boy looked pale as a ghost.
“What are you playing at!” Justin yelled, Neville couldnt understand what he did. It was then Ronan came forward, waved his wand, and killed the snake in an instant, impressing most people there in the process. He had heard that almost every student in Slytherin in their year was wary of the man. Now he understands why that is, he is a scary man considering that he had spent most of his life in the muggle world.
“And people call me the Heir,” he heard Ronan mutter, confusing him even further.
It was then Neville felt a tug on his robes, he looked back to see Ron dragging him out of there. Along with him, Hermione looked anxious for some reason. He didnt know what was making them act the way, but he still followed them outside confused about what was happening.
“What is going on?” he tried to ask Ron.
He didnt answer, just dragged him through the crowd, “Come on,” pushing through the crowd, “Make way!”
Ron dragged him out of the hall, Hermione and Harry hurrying alongside them. As they went through the door, they hurriedly made their way to the common room. He tried asking Ron and Hermione about what was happening, but they didnt answer.
“Is it about the weird language that Neville spoke?” Harry asked, Neville didnt understand what he meant. But it was good to hear that there was someone else who was as clueless as him.
Ron brought Neville to the common room, and then pushed him on the armchair and asked, “You are a Parselmouth? Why didnt you tell us?”
“I am a what?” he had no idea what that word meant.
“A Parselmouth!” Ron said, “You can talk to snakes!”
“I didnt know either,” He protested, “I just urged the snake to stop and it stopped. I didnt know I could do that.”
“So that was what you were saying?” Harry asked, bewildered.
“You were there,” Neville said, “You heard it right?”
Hermione then urged, “We just heard you hissing at the snake. We didnt know what you were saying, that was why everyone was looking with fear,”
Neville looked astonished, “I spoke another language, without knowing? How is that possible?”
“Beats me,” Harry threw his hands up, “But why was everyone staring at him with such a feared expression?”
“Because it's a very bad thing!” Hermione said, she spoke the last part in a rather hushed voice, “Being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That is why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent,” Harry was shocked, along with him.
“Exactly,” Ron said, “That is why Ronan commented on you being the heir. And now the whole school would think that you are Salazar’s great-great-great-great-great-great grandson or something…”
“But I am not,” Neville protested.
“That will be hard to prove,” Hermione said, “He lived about a thousand years ago, for all we know, you could be.”
Neville stayed awake that night while lying on his bed, his mind was repeating the events of today over and over again before his eyes. He remembers to this day when he came to Hogwarts, he really wanted to go to Gryffindor above anything else. He wanted to come here because he wanted to be in the house in which his father and mother used to study, another small reason was to prove to his grandmother that he was just like his father.
His grandmother always compared his magical capabilities with his father's, he also heard from her that even his mother was one level above his father. Yet here he was. He tried his best as well, he tried manifesting his magic early, but no results came. The pressure of being declared a squib was killing him alive, so he tried committing the unthinkable. He jumped out of the window when his uncle came to visit him.
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He figured that he should just die because he felt he would never be able to measure up to the capabilities of his father and mother. But luckily that day his magic manifested itself, and he was saved. Since then, he promised himself that he would work hard to prove his grandmother wrong, and make his parents proud as well.
One of the first steps that he took was on the night of the sorting ceremony, the talking hat was having trouble putting him in a house. It spoke to him, telling him that Slytherin would be an appropriate house for him. But he didnt want to go there, upon his insistence the hat declared him a Gryffindor. To this day, he had never questioned why hat wanted to put him in Slytherin, but the events of today were really making him rethink whether he would be fit to be in Slytherin.
Neville turned over. He had to see Justin the next day in Herbology and he would explain that he had been calling the snake off, not telling it to attack him. Which any fool should have realized…
By the next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled. Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.
They all stayed inside the warm common room. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were playing chess, in which Ron was beating both of their asses. While he sat in the side, fidgeting, he wanted to go and talk to Justin and explain the situation to him.
“Neville,” Harry said, he looked up, “If you are feeling so anxious, then why dont you go and find Justin.”
Hermione was frustrated as the chess wasn't listening to her, “Yes, you should really go. Find Justin if it is so important to you,”
That was everything that he needed, immediately he got up and left through the portrait hole, wondering where Justin might be. He walked on by, thinking that Justin might be using his free time to catch up on some work, and deciding to check the library first.
A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn’t seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Neville could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. He couldn’t see whether Justin was among them. He was walking toward them when something of what they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the adjacent section.
“So anyway,” Ernie Macmillan said, “I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Longbottom had marked him down as his next victim, it is best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin’s been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Longbottom that he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he’d been down for Eton,”
“You definitely think it is Longbottom, then, Ernie?” asked Hannah, a blonde with pigtails.
“Hannah,” Justin said, “he’s a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that’s the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue.” This warranted in heavy murmuring in the groups.
So, Justin continued, “Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Longbottom’s friend had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch’s cat’s attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Longbottom and his friend Potter, taking their pictures. Next thing we know Creevey’s been attacked.”
“He always seems so nice, though,” said Hannah uncertainly, “and, well, he’s the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can’t be all bad, can he?”
“No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that.” Justin then dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, “That’s probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn’t want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Longbottom has been hiding?”
Neville wanted to confront all of them, but he knew there was nothing he could do at the moment from which his name could be clear. So, he turned around and started walking out of the library, as clearly Justin was not with them. He stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark. The torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor. He turned to squint at what had fallen over.
Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn’t all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Neville had ever seen. It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin’s.
His breathing became fast and shallow, he felt as if his heart would come tearing out of his ribs at any moment. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.
Before he could do anything, the door right next to him opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out. “Why, it’s very wee Bottom!” cackled Peeves, and saw his face. “What’s wee bottom up to? Why is he… lurking,”
Without wasting any moment of time, Peeves started screaming top of his lungs, “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!”
Door after door flew open along the corridor and students came pouring out. No one said anything, and then from the crowd came Professor McGonagall, looking ashen.