Neville adjusted his footing and pushed forward into another sprint across the yard, his steps steady against the ground. He slowed near the stone path, stopping without stumbling, and exhaled lightly as his breathing settled back into rhythm.
The routine felt normal now.
Not easy—but familiar.
He rolled his shoulders once, about to continue, when a shadow passed over him.
A soft flutter followed.
Neville looked up.
An owl descended from above and swooped low instead of landing. Neville stepped forward and caught it midflight, steadying it just long enough to take the letter from its beak before letting it go. The owl didn't leave after that, circling once before settling nearby, as if waiting for a reply.
"Pip," he called.
With a soft pop, the houseelf appeared beside him. "Yes, Master Neville?"
"Bring something for the owl."
"At once."
Pip vanished and returned moments later with a small plate of food, placing it gently on the ground. The owl shifted slightly before lowering its head and beginning to eat.
Neville untied the letter.
The parchment was firm, properly sealed, his name written clearly across the front.
Neville Longbottom.
He opened it and read.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
Dear Mr. Longbottom,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Term begins on the first of September. You will find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment required for your first year.
Please confirm your acceptance by owl no later than the thirtyfirst of July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Neville read it again, slower this time.
He had known this would come.
Still… seeing it written like this felt different.
It felt more… real.
He folded the letter neatly.
"I should show this to Grandmother."
The owl was still eating.
For a moment, Neville considered whether it would wait for a reply immediately, then decided it probably would. Owls didn't seem like the type to leave halfway through a job.
Augusta Longbottom read the letter without interruption.
Neville stood nearby, watching her expression. It didn't change much, but there was a slight pause at the end before she folded the parchment again.
"So," she said, placing it down, "it's time."
Neville nodded.
Augusta stood, adjusting her sleeve. "We'll go to Diagon Alley this afternoon. There are a few things you'll need."
Her tone was calm, but there was something else beneath it. Not urgency—something closer to quiet excitement, like she had been expecting this day for a long time.
The fireplace flared green as the Floo Powder activated.
Neville stepped forward after Augusta, stating the destination clearly before the pull took hold. The spinning sensation passed quickly, and he stepped out into Diagon Alley.
For a moment, he didn't move.
It was louder than the estate.
Voices overlapped, shop signs creaked slightly overhead, and movement came from every direction. Nothing chaotic—but definitely not quiet.
Neville watched for a second longer than necessary.
Then followed Augusta.
"First, Gringotts," she said.
The bank felt different the moment they entered.
Quieter.
The goblins behind the counters watched them as they passed, their eyes sharp and steady in a way that made it difficult to ignore.
Neville didn't stare back.
But he noticed.
He followed Augusta deeper inside.
The cart ride began shortly after.
The tracks twisted sharply, dropping without warning before rising again. The cart surged forward, speed building as it dove deeper underground, the wind rushing past as the walls blurred into streaks of stone.
Neville leaned slightly into the motion, his grip tightening just enough to stay balanced as the cart took another sharp turn.
The next drop came faster.
And then another.
The sudden shifts in direction, the speed, the constant movement—it should have been disorienting.
Instead, he adjusted to it almost immediately.
A small smile appeared without him noticing.
This… was actually fun.
Fast, unpredictable—
but just controlled enough to ride along with it.
The cart twisted again, and this time he leaned into it more naturally, letting the motion carry instead of resisting it.
If anything, it felt closer to a ride than anything else—just one that didn't bother pretending to be safe.
The ride ended sooner than he expected.
Augusta stepped out first, as if nothing about it was unusual.
Neville followed.
The Longbottom vault opened with a heavy sound.
Inside, stacks of gold, silver, and bronze coins were arranged neatly in separate sections. Not excessive, but clearly more than enough.
Neville looked around once.
So this was what "family wealth" actually looked like.
More organized than he expected.
Augusta glanced at him. "This is our family's vault. You'll need to understand what you have access to."
Neville nodded.
She collected what was needed and closed it again without hesitation.
Back in Diagon Alley, the pace slowed.
They didn't rush.
Robes were fitted first. Measurements were taken carefully, adjusted twice before settling. Neville stood still through most of it, only moving when asked.
It took longer than he expected.
Not difficult.
Just… precise.
Books came next.
The weight added up quickly as they were stacked and packed away. Neville glanced at a few titles as they passed through his hands.
Some of them looked useful.
Some looked like they would take time.
He didn't mind that.
They stopped last at Ollivanders.
Neville paused slightly at the entrance before stepping in.
From the outside, the shop looked old enough to collapse if someone pushed the door too hard. The wood was worn, and the windows looked like they hadn't been cleaned properly in years.
He glanced at it once more.
Strange.
For something this important, the place didn't look like it cared about appearances at all.
Inside, however, it was different.
Still old. Still narrow. But cleaner than expected. Rows of boxes filled the walls from floor to ceiling, stacked in a way that didn't look organized but somehow still worked.
A bell chimed softly as the door closed.
"Ah."
The voice came from behind the counter.
An old man stepped forward, pale eyes settling on Neville with immediate focus.
"Mr. Longbottom."
Neville blinked once. "Yes."
Ollivander studied him for a moment, then turned and began pulling down boxes.
The first wand didn't respond.
The second gave a faint reaction, then went still.
Neville adjusted his grip slightly, waiting.
The third did nothing at all.
Ollivander hummed softly, not bothered, and reached for another.
"Try this."
Neville took it.
The moment his fingers closed around the handle, the difference was immediate.
Not strong.
Not overwhelming.
Just steady.
Like it fit.
Ollivander's expression sharpened slightly.
"Rowan wood… unicorn hair… yes."
He nodded once.
"This wand prefers someone disciplined. Someone who thinks before acting. It won't respond well to impatience… but in the right hands, it is very dependable."
Neville gave a small nod.
That matched.
"That will do."
Outside, the street felt a little louder again.
They stopped at a small shop before leaving.
Several owls sat perched quietly. Some shifted when he approached, others stayed completely still.
Neville took a moment.
Then pointed.
"That one."
It didn't react much.
Which was probably a good sign.
By the time they returned home, the sun had already started to lower.
The day hadn't felt rushed.
But it had still gone by quickly.
Neville set his things aside and picked up the letter once more, reading the first line again before placing it back down.
Hogwarts.
He had expected it.
Prepared for it.
Still…
It was something different now.
Something real.
And soon, he would be there.