A few seconds earlier…
Neville washed his face for several minutes, splashing cool water into his eyes to wipe away the redness from crying.
Then he stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long time, as if wondering whether he still recognised the boy looking back at him.
Emotionally drained, he headed for the door and opened it—only to find himself staring into the stomach of a twelve-foot-tall troll armed with a massive club.
The monster snarled.
“Yeah,” Neville thought with a strange mix of amazement, annoyance, and resignation, “I guess it’s just been that sort of day.”
He dropped to the floor with a yell of fright, ducking just as the troll reached a meaty hand toward him.
The boy scrambled backward until his back hit the far wall, desperately trying to remember any spell he could actually perform that might work against a troll.
The great beast squeezed into the room, ripping out part of the doorframe with its enormous body as it entered.
Neville tried Hermione’s fireworks spell, but nothing came from his wand except a soft pop and two lonely sparks.
The troll reached down hungrily…
… and then suddenly roared as a blast of fireworks struck its backside.
Angrily, it turned to face its new quarry: Harry and Hermione.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” Harry yelled.
The troll’s club flew up and swept around to smash its own face.
Unfortunately, the troll was surprisingly fast when it needed to be.
It threw up an arm, batting the club away toward Harry and Hermione, who had to duck quickly.
The club shattered against the wall, showering them with falling masonry.
Hermione recovered first and resumed her fireworks.
Across the room, Neville was shocked at the sight of his two friends—whom he had so rudely spurned earlier—risking their lives to save him.
Still trying to think of a spell, he looked down at his wand and suddenly felt hatred for the useless stick in his hand.
The wand that had never chosen him, and that he had never truly chosen as his own.
Then he looked up at the troll’s back as it threatened his friends, and something burned in young Neville Longbottom’s eyes that no one would have expected to see there.
Rage.
Harry and Hermione were still trying to harm or at least frighten the troll with fireworks, but the beast was barely slowed.
Harry vaguely recalled that trolls had magic-resistant skin and doubted there were any spells a first-year could cast that would hurt it.
Then, to his amazement, he saw Neville climb onto a sink and leap onto the creature’s back!
With one hand, Neville grabbed the iron collar around the troll’s neck and hoisted himself up.
His other hand still held his wand.
With a loud grunt, he jammed it up the troll’s left nostril.
Still barely hanging on with one hand, Neville shifted his grip and, with a scream like a furious berserker, shoved the wand another three inches up the monster’s nose with an audible squick.
The troll screamed in agony.
A thin trail of green blood trickled from the nostril.
Its thrashing intensified, and Neville finally lost his hold, falling hard to the floor behind the beast.
Quickly, Harry flicked his wand toward the protruding butt of Neville’s wand.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” He pushed with all his magical might, and the wand slid another few inches toward the troll’s brain.
There was resistance—Harry could almost feel the tip cracking against bone.
The creature started pounding on the sides of its head in pain.
The young witch raised her wand, and they cried out Leviosa!” in unison:
“Wingardium
With the sharp sound of cracking bone, Neville’s wand shot up the troll’s nostril and penetrated its brain.
There was a spray of green ichor.
The bellowing stopped instantly.
The monster’s eyes rolled back, and the half-ton creature wobbled before falling backwards—straight toward where Neville had landed.
In a flash, Harry repositioned himself and cast, “Accio Neville Longbottom!” The other boy slid right through the troll’s legs and into Harry and Hermione’s waiting arms.
The troll collapsed with an enormous thud.
Neville pulled both of them into a bone-crushing hug.
“I’m sorry I was such a prat to you two,” he sobbed.
“You two are the best friends a guy could ever have.” At that, Harry’s eyes grew misty as well.
He had never really had friends before Hogwarts thanks to the Dursleys.
Now, between Hermione, Neville, and Theo, he had more—and better—friends than he had ever imagined possible.
The bonding moment was cut short, however, by a loud shriek in a Scottish brogue.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”
Behind McGonagall stood Snape,Flitwick,and a nervous-looking Quirrell.