"Dragon scum, good luck, the stars shine..."
Neville's eyes were a little dull. He held the list of passwords. The parchment felt rough and inexplicably unreal: "Is this... the spell I cast?"
Melvin did not answer. He patted him on the shoulder again and asked indifferently, "I have the password. Can I go back alone?"
"I think... I can."
Neville's voice still trembled.
Melvin shook his head and searched the portrait frames on both sides of the wall: "Is Sir Cadogan here? Sir Cadogan?"
"Noble mind and strong body, call Sir Cadogan when needed!"
With a cry of excitement, a short, plump knight in armor ran out of the pathway deep within the portrait. Nobody knew who had delivered the message. Behind him was a pony, also short and plump, with clattering hooves.
"Sir Cadogan."
Melvin struck his chest with his fist and gave a knightly salute. "This little one is lost. Could you escort him back to the Gryffindor Tower, please?"
"Escort! Leave it to me!"
The short, stout knight's eyes lit up. He turned and was about to mount his pony, but the horse jerked and threw him off.
Cadogan jumped up unfazed. He raised his sword, put on his mask, and looked at Neville: "Follow me, soldier!"
Then he entered the frame of the adjacent nun portrait and was chased through another portrait. The next portrait was of a woman in a hoop skirt, and another chase ensued, accompanied by a metallic clatter.
Neville watched the retreating knight, then the professor beside him, and ran after him, waving: "Goodbye, Professor Lewyn!"
"Ha ha..."
All those school portraits seemed quite amusing to Melvin.
"I don't remember summoning spells being this loud, and Longbottom has changed..."
Dumbledore stepped onto the landing with a cup of hot chocolate in hand. He furrowed his brows thoughtfully and asked with curiosity, "Melvin, how did you do it?"
"Just a few trivial teaching techniques."
Melvin was not surprised. The headmaster had hidden there shortly after finding Neville. Who knew if he had installed surveillance in the corridor?
"The boy cast spells perfectly. The wand mismatch caused some issues, but not enough to cause total failure. From what I observed, his biggest problem is insecurity..."
Melvin changed the topic. In the Muggle world, there is a short-distance transportation method called a bicycle. It relies on the gyroscopic effect of two spinning wheels and the rider's control to maintain balance. Very difficult for beginners. The difficulty in controlling a bicycle is one aspect, but overcoming the psychological barrier is another. Muggle parents developed a teaching method based on this.
"When teaching a child to ride, pretend to be behind them, supporting them, helping them find balance. As the wheels spin quickly, the gyroscopic effect helps the child find balance quickly. Believing they have parental support, the child begins to ride freely and confidently."
"They only discover after riding a long distance that their parents had stopped helping them a long time ago. Once they understand the truth, they have already overcome their psychological barriers and learned to ride quickly."
"What do you mean?"
"As long as you have firm convictions and provide support, even if false, it can help them find balance and move forward on their own."
"..."
Dumbledore's blue eyes widened, shining with a crystalline light: "The Summoning Spell is not accompanied by strong winds, but the Purification Spell can create strong winds. You cast the Purification Spell to summon strong winds, and Longbottom thought it was the effect of his Summoning Spell. This conviction, combined with the correct casting action, truly released the Summoning Spell..."
"The magical power of first-year students is not very strong. Luckily, the list is nearby. —It's truly... an astonishing miracle.
—Magic always surprises us. —I mean your philosophy. —Dumbledore sighed softly— I feel lucky, Melvin, lucky to have invited you that night. —It's an honor for me as well.
—Melvin, are you free tomorrow, the weekend? I have something I want to ask your help with.
—I'm going to Hogsmeade in the morning, how about the afternoon?
"I'll wait for you in the office."
"Then see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Melvin."
...
"Light of Wonderland."
The Fat Lady preferred using Latin or astrological terms as passwords, giving them an elegant, classic feel.
Upon hearing the password, the stone cave behind the portrait opened with a rumble, revealing the passage leading to the Gryffindor common room.
After saying goodbye to Sir Cadogan and wishing the Fat Lady goodnight, Neville entered the common room, still looking a little dazed.
Had he really cast such a powerful Summoning Spell?
It had been almost half an hour since the lights went out, and the common room was completely dark. With the faint starlight filtering through the window, Neville looked down at his hands.
In one hand he held a wand and in the other, a list.
A sturdy wooden staircase connected the common room to the dormitory. The left and right branches separated the boys' and girls' dormitories. Walking down the hall, this year's first-year dormitory was inside. Perhaps to protect students' privacy, there were no portraits in this corridor, and ghosts were rarely seen. Due to lack of supervision, graffiti splashed the walls. Some, meticulously done, depicted images, while others were meaningless ink smudges. Even house-elves neglected usual cleaning, and in the most hidden corners, inscriptions left by students centuries ago could be seen.
Neville carefully pushed open the door and entered his dormitory. His roommates were already in pajamas, tucked into bed. Seamus and Dean were sound asleep. Harry and Ron huddled together, whispering about their trip to visit Hagrid, the gamekeeper, the gentle giant, tomorrow.
"You're back, Neville!"
"I thought you'd stay in the infirmary tonight," whispered Ron and Harry.
"Shh, tomorrow,"
Neville put a finger to his lips.
"Oh, oh... alright."
His roommates were kind and attentive, unfazed by his poor performance in class. Although they did not give him private lessons like Hermione, they always accompanied him back to the dormitory after dinner, worried he would forget passwords and lose his list. But something had happened today in Potions class. The night was deep, a bright silver light filtered into the dormitory through the glass windows. A damp mist seeped through the window cracks, a faint, humid vapor.
The enemies of his parents, his grandmother's expectations, his uncle's hopes, the view outside his second-floor window, the smell of potions in St. Mungo's closed hall, and candy wrappers his mother gave him—things he thought he could never remember now vividly came to mind.
These were the first eleven years of Neville Longbottom.
The help of his roommates, explanations from classmates, care from professors, delicious meals served at the long Great Hall table, plants in the greenhouse during Herbology class, and the whistle of the wind in the corridors late at night.
This was his first week at Hogwarts.
Born at the end of July, Neville showed no signs of sleep. He turned to look at the drawer of his bedside table. Inside was an unsent letter home. He extended his wand and pointed at the drawer.
His lips moved slightly, his voice ever softer.
The drawer opened and closed gently, and the parchment envelope flew out silently.
Neville held the envelope, fingers white, and murmured: "Grandmother, I learned the Summoning Spell."