Steel In Its Cauldron
Author: pikkalam_sri
Requestor:anj1290
Claim: 21. Neville at Hogwarts (defying the Carrows, leading the DA, etc). Bonus points if McGonagall is included.
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Genre: Gen
Summary: “Injustice boils in men's hearts as does steel in its cauldron, ready to pour forth, white hot, in the fullness of time” - Mother Jones
Word Count: ~1000
Author’s Notes: All characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling. Many thanks to corvus_coronis for beta’ing. Any remaining mistakes are mine, and constructive criticism is welcome!
***
“Psst! I was thinking,” Neville leaned over his desk to get closer to the back of Terry Boot’s head. “We could do the doors to the Great Hall tonight. Post sign-up sheets for the DA, or something.”
Terry turned sideways and muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Are you mad? Ask people to put their names up there for everyone to see?”
“No, I would never! That’s not the point -”
“Anyway,” Terry’s eyes darted around the Muggles Studies classroom suspiciously. “Is this the best place to be discussing this?”
Neville glanced over his shoulder. Ever since classes had been segregated by blood status, he’d been spending a lot of time in the company of Slytherins. Everyone in the DA knew they’d turn you over to the Carrows before you could say Expelliarmus! But the only snake within earshot now was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be absorbed in staring at his hands, twirling his signet ring around his finger.
Vain git, Neville thought, with a scowl.
“I’m with you, Neville,” Susan Bones, who was sitting next to Terry, added. She turned her grim stare towards her seatmate, who looked down and nodded.
“Great. Meet me behind the -” Neville sat up abruptly when the classroom door swung open.
“Settle down, class!”
Alecto Carrow bustled past rows of suddenly silent students. Her stocky frame could barely make it between the desks, and her ornate teaching robes brushed the shoulders of several cringing seventh-years. Her hair was pulled into an elaborate up-do, and her face was layered with beauty glamours.
Upon reaching the podium she tapped it with her wand and a thick sheaf of parchment appeared. Another spell sent the pages shuffling, until they presented her with the appropriate lecture notes.
“We will continue where we left off last Thursday, before certain … unpleasantness forced us to cancel classes. I trust you have all brought your notes. Now, the Mudblood only seems different from a Muggle to the uninitiated.” She turned to the blackboard and began drawing crude pictures. Neville looked away in disgust.
“To experts, these creatures are as alike as two toadstools on a stump. The same blood is at work, whether behind a wand, or in front of it.” Carrow turned back to the class, her beady eyes crinkling.
“When they enter our schools, our society, our homes and families, Mudbloods are practicing their only real skill - mimicry. For centuries they lived in the Muggle world, blending in with the hapless animals, breeding with them. When we bring them out of that world and into ours, they likewise assimilate.
“They are insidious, moving slowly so as not to alert true Wizards to their presence,” she continued. “It is their greatest strength, but also their greatest weakness. The experienced Muggle expert immediately sees through their invisibility cloak of lies. That is why - yes, Mr. Longbottom?”
“So what you’re saying,” Neville said, lowering his hand, “Is that you want to teach us how to tell a Muggleborn from a pureblood.”
“Quite right, Mr. Longbottom,” Carrow eyed him warily. “I’m glad you have finally decided to be more cooperative.”
“Thank you, Professor,” he continued. “I just have a few more questions.”
Carrow frowned, but clearly could not think of a legitimate excuse to deny him. “Go ahead.” She said.
“Thank you, ma’am. We’ve learned that Muggles evolved from apes, and as such are more like animals than true Wizards.”
“That’s … right.”
“Then I think I’ve found a way to truly distinguish the Muggleborn from our kind.”
“My dear boy, many wiser Wizards than you have perfected this science, far before you were even born. But, by all means, let’s hear what you have to say.” Vincent Crabbe and Mandy Brocklehurst snickered.
Neville smiled as well. “I simply meant, Professor, that if Muggles are animals and Muggleborn are just like Muggles, anyone with a face like an opossum and breath to match -”
“Diffindo!” Carrow didn’t wait for him to finish before letting a curse fly. Susan just managed to duck away, but the end of her long plait was neatly severed. The class degenerated into chaos, as students scrambled out of the way.
Neville leapt out of his seat just in time to have it blasted out from under him. “Tell me, Professor,” he shouted over the din. “How much Muggle blood have you and your lizard of a brother got?”
Perversely, it was the jeering of the Slytherins that snapped Carrow out of her homicidal rage. She lowered her wand and took a deep breath.
“I won’t even dignify that with a response, young man. I did expect better from the Longbottom Heir, regardless of the trouble your parents got themselves into. Shall we let that be our lesson, class?” she raised her voice to carry to the students cowering in the corners of the room. “Because that’s what happens to blood traitors.”
He clenched his fist around the wand in his pocket. Terry was making frantic shushing movements, just outside of Carrow’s line of sight. The Patil twins were holding hands, eyes darting between Carrow and Neville. Across the room, Susan made eye contact with him before shaking her wand out of her sleeve. Neville shook his head imperceptibly.
He couldn’t risk anyone getting hurt. If Neville was a leader now, it was only by default - he had no right to ask for their help, for their lives. He was just buying time. He had to keep Dumbledore’s Army trained, keep them fighting, keep them together…
Because Harry was coming back.
Neville slowly unclenched his fist and raised his empty hands in a gesture of surrender. Carrow let out a snarling laugh. Waving her wand, she righted a few desks that had been overturned by the panicked students. “Now, why don’t you all sit down and we will continue our lesson, hmm?”
Terry, Susan, and the other DA members glanced at Neville, who nodded. Only then did they return to their seats. Carrow’s eyes gleamed maliciously. “Oh, and Mr. Longbottom?”
“Yes, Professor?” He gritted out.
“For your cheek - sectumsempra!”
***
Requestor:anj1290
Claim: 21. Neville at Hogwarts (defying the Carrows, leading the DA, etc). Bonus points if McGonagall is included.
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Genre: Gen
Summary: “Injustice boils in men's hearts as does steel in its cauldron, ready to pour forth, white hot, in the fullness of time” - Mother Jones
Word Count: ~1000
Author’s Notes: All characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling. Many thanks to corvus_coronis for beta’ing. Any remaining mistakes are mine, and constructive criticism is welcome!
***
“Psst! I was thinking,” Neville leaned over his desk to get closer to the back of Terry Boot’s head. “We could do the doors to the Great Hall tonight. Post sign-up sheets for the DA, or something.”
Terry turned sideways and muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Are you mad? Ask people to put their names up there for everyone to see?”
“No, I would never! That’s not the point -”
“Anyway,” Terry’s eyes darted around the Muggles Studies classroom suspiciously. “Is this the best place to be discussing this?”
Neville glanced over his shoulder. Ever since classes had been segregated by blood status, he’d been spending a lot of time in the company of Slytherins. Everyone in the DA knew they’d turn you over to the Carrows before you could say Expelliarmus! But the only snake within earshot now was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be absorbed in staring at his hands, twirling his signet ring around his finger.
Vain git, Neville thought, with a scowl.
“I’m with you, Neville,” Susan Bones, who was sitting next to Terry, added. She turned her grim stare towards her seatmate, who looked down and nodded.
“Great. Meet me behind the -” Neville sat up abruptly when the classroom door swung open.
“Settle down, class!”
Alecto Carrow bustled past rows of suddenly silent students. Her stocky frame could barely make it between the desks, and her ornate teaching robes brushed the shoulders of several cringing seventh-years. Her hair was pulled into an elaborate up-do, and her face was layered with beauty glamours.
Upon reaching the podium she tapped it with her wand and a thick sheaf of parchment appeared. Another spell sent the pages shuffling, until they presented her with the appropriate lecture notes.
“We will continue where we left off last Thursday, before certain … unpleasantness forced us to cancel classes. I trust you have all brought your notes. Now, the Mudblood only seems different from a Muggle to the uninitiated.” She turned to the blackboard and began drawing crude pictures. Neville looked away in disgust.
“To experts, these creatures are as alike as two toadstools on a stump. The same blood is at work, whether behind a wand, or in front of it.” Carrow turned back to the class, her beady eyes crinkling.
“When they enter our schools, our society, our homes and families, Mudbloods are practicing their only real skill - mimicry. For centuries they lived in the Muggle world, blending in with the hapless animals, breeding with them. When we bring them out of that world and into ours, they likewise assimilate.
“They are insidious, moving slowly so as not to alert true Wizards to their presence,” she continued. “It is their greatest strength, but also their greatest weakness. The experienced Muggle expert immediately sees through their invisibility cloak of lies. That is why - yes, Mr. Longbottom?”
“So what you’re saying,” Neville said, lowering his hand, “Is that you want to teach us how to tell a Muggleborn from a pureblood.”
“Quite right, Mr. Longbottom,” Carrow eyed him warily. “I’m glad you have finally decided to be more cooperative.”
“Thank you, Professor,” he continued. “I just have a few more questions.”
Carrow frowned, but clearly could not think of a legitimate excuse to deny him. “Go ahead.” She said.
“Thank you, ma’am. We’ve learned that Muggles evolved from apes, and as such are more like animals than true Wizards.”
“That’s … right.”
“Then I think I’ve found a way to truly distinguish the Muggleborn from our kind.”
“My dear boy, many wiser Wizards than you have perfected this science, far before you were even born. But, by all means, let’s hear what you have to say.” Vincent Crabbe and Mandy Brocklehurst snickered.
Neville smiled as well. “I simply meant, Professor, that if Muggles are animals and Muggleborn are just like Muggles, anyone with a face like an opossum and breath to match -”
“Diffindo!” Carrow didn’t wait for him to finish before letting a curse fly. Susan just managed to duck away, but the end of her long plait was neatly severed. The class degenerated into chaos, as students scrambled out of the way.
Neville leapt out of his seat just in time to have it blasted out from under him. “Tell me, Professor,” he shouted over the din. “How much Muggle blood have you and your lizard of a brother got?”
Perversely, it was the jeering of the Slytherins that snapped Carrow out of her homicidal rage. She lowered her wand and took a deep breath.
“I won’t even dignify that with a response, young man. I did expect better from the Longbottom Heir, regardless of the trouble your parents got themselves into. Shall we let that be our lesson, class?” she raised her voice to carry to the students cowering in the corners of the room. “Because that’s what happens to blood traitors.”
He clenched his fist around the wand in his pocket. Terry was making frantic shushing movements, just outside of Carrow’s line of sight. The Patil twins were holding hands, eyes darting between Carrow and Neville. Across the room, Susan made eye contact with him before shaking her wand out of her sleeve. Neville shook his head imperceptibly.
He couldn’t risk anyone getting hurt. If Neville was a leader now, it was only by default - he had no right to ask for their help, for their lives. He was just buying time. He had to keep Dumbledore’s Army trained, keep them fighting, keep them together…
Because Harry was coming back.
Neville slowly unclenched his fist and raised his empty hands in a gesture of surrender. Carrow let out a snarling laugh. Waving her wand, she righted a few desks that had been overturned by the panicked students. “Now, why don’t you all sit down and we will continue our lesson, hmm?”
Terry, Susan, and the other DA members glanced at Neville, who nodded. Only then did they return to their seats. Carrow’s eyes gleamed maliciously. “Oh, and Mr. Longbottom?”
“Yes, Professor?” He gritted out.
“For your cheek - sectumsempra!”
***