Arc 1 Chapter 8: Wandless Magic

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Two Months Earlier

Neville Longbottom hadn't been home for days.

He was not surprised to hear from the guards that his family hadn't sent him letters. Not even his Gran.

He imagined that she had reacted to the news of what he had done either one of two ways. Either hopping up and down in pure rage or wrestling with pride at how he'd finally proved himself the ideal Gryffindor. Brave and stupid.

But whether she was swimming with pride or beside herself with fury, she wouldn't send any letters either way. Affection wasn't a part of her nature.

He was currently being escorted to his trial in the Ministry of Magic. For the crime of attempting to kill Severus Snape.

But he wasn't worried. Once upon a time the seats among the Winzengamot were filled with the most pompous, balding old Pure-Bloods who would have been all too happy to send him to the Dementors. His only saving grace would have been the fact that he was Pure-Blooded.

But the Winzengamot had been purged since Scrimgeor became Minister. It was due to this purge that Y/N had been freed from Azkaban a year ago. The Winzengamot was now younger, no longer dead set in the ways of old.

Neville wouldn't be punished. Not for trying to kill a Death Eater.

Neville was ushered to a waiting room lined with velvet carpeting and depressingly bland stone walls lit by candles.

The double-doors leading to the courtroom opened and who else but the Minister's second in command stood there to greet him.

"Good to see you, Neville." said Y/N L/N.

* * *

"I gotta say," said Neville, stirring two spoonfuls of sugar into his tea. "That was a lot simpler than I thought It'd be."

The trial was over. As expected, Neville was scott-free.

He sat opposite his friend at a Muggle coffee shop not far from one of the Ministry of Magic's secret entrances. Neville could never get used to the — noise of the Muggle world. It wasn't just the rushing of cars. When there were just so many people, everything, even the footsteps of children, felt deafening.

Observing his friend, Y/N clearly hadn't shaved in a while. His trenchcoat was shabby and his eyes tired. Not a total deviation from how he had looked the previous year, but upon his reunion with Hermione at Hogwarts, he had just started to make effort again to look presentable. Now, with no girlfriend around to baby him he had deviated right back to messy Remus-Lupin knock-off.

"Are you incapable of keeping yourself presentable if Hermione isn't around?" Neville asked, humor in his tone.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coffee. "Don't pretend you've grown all that much." He fired back eventually. "Need any more sugar with that tea?"

Neville dropped the teaspoon, realizing he was subconsciously shoving a third sugar into his tea. He scowled. "Something wrong with liking my tea sweet?"

"Nothing at all." Said Y/N, the ghost of a smile forming at the corner of his lips. "Just comforting knowing you'll always be the same Neville at heart. No matter how tough you try and act."

Neville grumbled, casting aside his spoon and taking a sip from his tea. After a short moment of silence between the two he spoke once more.

"Your staff was broken last year, wasn't it?" Said Neville, eyeing Y/Ns apparent lack of magical weaponry. "Got a new wand hidden up your sleeve or —?"

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 19 ⏰

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