The Unexpected secret of a Ravenclaw Princess and a Hufflepuff Nerd
Neville Longbottom glanced at the sleeping Hannah before he strode to the pensieve he had placed near the window. Beside it lined seven vials full of pulsating white liquids. His hand hovered over them before he selected the one in the middle. Gingerly, he uncorked the vial and poured its content on the pensieve.
He gave Hannah another glance before he pulled out his wand and stirred the pensieve. Slowly images formed within the swirling liquid.
“Ah…Princess Adams…it took me quite an effort to steal this particular memory of you...too buried deep…whatever are you hiding.” Neville had spent the last couple of days painstakingly stealing memories from their core DA. He was sending them to war. He surmised that he needs to understand them for him to be able to utilize them effectively…and ensure their survival at the same time. “Not surprisingly, this particular memory is also the same cherished memory of Connors…”
With another glance to the sleeping Hannah, he dived into the memory.
The former Gryffindor turned professor found himself in a part of the castle that he has never visited before. Based on Ron’s account after the Chamber of Secret was opened, Neville guessed he is in one of the Chamber’s many circuitous tunnel.
“Now, why a Ravenclaw student would be found in such a dangerous…” He raised a brow when he saw Princess Adams dart furtively from one tunnel and into another. Shrugging he followed her until he reached the atrium where a huge skeleton can be found in the center. Around the macabre sight, what appears to be snake’s skin littered the place.
Not for the first time did he felt awe at what his dead friend has accomplished in his life. No student…no wizard could ever boast of single-handedly killing a basilisk of such size except for Harry Potter. Neville swallowed the sense of guilt that always accompanied the thoughts of Harry Potter. His friend killed a huge basilisk while he failed to kill a bloody snake.
“Not now…” He murmured as Princess stopped a few pace from the skeleton.
“You found the entrance? Great.” Matt Connors, half of his face covered by his long black hair, spoke from the altar below a huge stone statue of Salazar Slytherin. Neville shook his head. If only Matt knew that Ginny once lay there dying while Harry tried desperately to rescue her.
“Sometimes I wonder why I chose you instead of my other more traditional suitors.” Princess laughter echoed throughout the chamber as she approached Matt. Pushing his hairs away, she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips as he settled between his legs, his arms automatically surrounding her. “I could be in Hogmeade right now.”
“So my recording of the parsel tongue works.” Matt laughed. “And did Moaning Myrtle give you much trouble?”
“I think she likes you too much.” Princess giggled, stepping out of his embrace. “She tried to flood the bathroom as I opened the entrance. She was pretty much jealous of me.”
“She keeps my secret.” Matt sighed as he pushed off from the altar. He looked around.
“I’ll keep it too.” Princess asked becoming serious. “No one will know that the timid Matt Connor is actually knows parsel tongue.”
“Not to mention that I belong to a long line of Dark Wizards and Witched. Heck, I can trace my line straight to the Lestrange.” Matt stared at the colossal skeletons. “The moment I learned parsel tongue, I kept it from my family. I couldn’t imagine what they would have force me to do once they found out about it.”
“Them knowing it would have save you a lot of grief when you were sorted into Hufflepuff house.” Princess gently caressed his cheek as she stepped closer to her.
“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I did reveal my talent to them.” Matt’s hands went to her waist. “They might even have forced me to become the Dark Lord heir when he temporarily disappeared.”
“And you wouldn’t have me this close to you if that happened.” Princess tried to lighten the mood to no avail.
“And sometimes…especially since I found this place, I wonder if I could ever escape my family’s legacy.”
“Yes, you secretly belong to a family of dark wizards and witched. You have talent only dark wizard should have. But remember this!” Princess said firmly. “It is your actions and your choices that define you and not your lineage. There is good in here.” She poked his chest. “And that is why the Hat did not place you in Slytherin. It chose to place you in Hufflepuff where you must toil and prove your worth!”
“What did I do to deserve someone like you?” Matt smiled.
“You just got lucky, tiger.” Princess laughed before she pulled him into a kiss that started soft but turned into an all-out snog with their hands.
“This could turn awkward.” Neville murmured before he was yanked away from the pensieve. He turned to see the glaring eyes of Hannah.
“What did you learn in there that is so interesting that you’d leave my side?” She asked, her hands on waist imperiously.
Neville gulped as he started at her fit, naked body.
“Nothing except that our young Matt Connor has been holding out on us.” Neville tried to concentrate but his eyes kept straying into the shadows between her thighs. “He has a talent that could quite prove useful in the coming war.”
“I don’t care.” Hannah harrumphed, pulling him closer. “And judging by the way your eyes are straying…” Neville fully lost it and glued his lips to hers and all thoughts of parsel tongue were forgotten.
The Rebellious Heiress and her Father
Much later, Neville managed to extricate himself from Hannah’s warm embrace to plunge into the next memory that he had chosen. He had just found out that Matt could have been placed in Slytherin house. Now he journeys to the memory of the girl that everybody knew belongs to a Slytherin house yet was shockingly sorted to Ravenclaw.
“Now what is your deepest and most secret memory?” Neville murmured. “…memory that defines who you are today.”
He found himself in a grandiose Green House. The glass wall and ceiling kept changing sceneries from one vast forest into another. All around him different kinds of flowers and plants bloomed. At the center, a make shift lagoon can be found, on its bank stood a small table with floating parasol over it. Floating around it are scented candles that kept changing the color of their flame.
The flames turned red and only when she moved did Neville realized that a young Selena Mitchell was floating buck-naked on the lagoon. She deftly turned, swimming to the bank and slowly stepped out of the water, revealing how lit and almost -fully developed her body despite her young years.
“Clothes.” Selena murmured. The candles dimmed, plunging her vicinities into darkness. When next the flame flared she was covered in a robe the color of Ravenclaw, her hair fully dried.
“Neat trick and she is just in her fourth year in this memory.” Neville smiled in appreciation. He now realized that she had become Head Girl not just because of her father but because of her talent as well.
“Welcome home father.” Selena turned toward her right where in puff of dark clouds, the man who would become the head Governor of Hogswart, Fredrick Mitchel appeared. He was immaculately dress in tux with his crane clutch under his right armpit. Neville immediately zoned in on his angry visage.
“I have been gone for three years and what do I found out when finally return?” His every word seethed with anger. “You were sorted into bloody Ravenclaw!”
“What is wrong with being sorted into a house full of brilliant minds?” Selena asked calmly, ignoring her father’s anger as she sat down under the floating parasol. The kettle on the table immediately floated to pour her a hot cup of tea.
“You were raised better than that!” Her father shouted. “I swallowed my bride when the Dark Lord fell and kowtowed to idiots who call themselves our leader. I did that so that the Ministry would not confiscate our fortune, so that you could be raised in a world of comfort. You were given all the best tutors even before you went to Hogwarts. You were taught everything you needed to learn to join the illustrious house of your forebear and you got sorted into bloody RAVENCLAW!”
“Father, the tutors you sent to me taught me to love learning, that there is might not in magic but in the power of the mind. Wisdom is Might, father, not magic. You wouldn’t have to kowtow to anyone if only our forebears have used their mind instead of simply just relying on magic…”
A flick of his baton and the whole table was engulfed in flames.
“Magic is might! You will learn that even if it is the hard…” Fredrick stopped cold when the flame slowly burned down to reveal Selena, unharmed, sipping her tea calmly. All around her floated the candles with different-colored flames.
“Wisdom is power, father.” She stood up. “My tutors taught me this neat trick. The candles feed of on the strongest emotion on the vicinity and right now that is your anger. Magic is strong yes but without wisdom to properly use it…”
“Don’t lecture me as if…”
“I am just trying to explain, father.” Selena sighed. “I just need you to understand that I may not be in Slytherin nor do I share your principles but I can still make our family…you…proud. Before you left, you once told me that in whatever I do, as long as I do it with all passion and commitment, you will be proud of me…that I will always be your little princess. Is that still true until now?”
And just like that, Neville saw the anger leaves Fredrick’s face. MR. Mitchell has built a reputation of a calculating, hard, dangerous man but all that disappeared as Selena looked at her father with a furtive smile on lips. They say that children are the man’s weakness. Neville just found out that it is true even to a man like Fredrick Mitchell.
“What will I do with you?” Fredrick murmured as he fell to his knees.
“You know I love you still.” Selena chuckled before went to her kneeling father and hugged him. “Now, how about we go and see mother?”
The Underrated Hufflepuff Muscle
Neville left the poignant memory of Selena and entered the dark memory of the Hufflepuff Scott Mathew. The student, as most Hufflepuff, has never stood out of the pack. He has never accomplished anything noteworthy. He hasn’t dated any of the famous girls of his generation. In fact, he is only famously known as the fourth year sidekick of Connor-the-one-who-got-Princess.
It was for that reason that Neville was particularly interested on knowing what really makes him tick.
Neville found himself inside the Hufflepuff’s dormitory where two boys sat in front of the fireplace, whispering at each other while giving the whole room furtive glances.
“Well?” Matt Connor asked. “What did the letter say? And don’t you deny about it. Last night, I saw your owl fly through our room’s window.”
“And what were you doing outside?” Scott Mathew asked. “Do you know what the Carrows would do to you if they caught you? Remember what they did to Peter a week ago. He could barely stand when he was finally thrown out of the dungeon.”
“I went for a walk to clear my head. I wanted to make sure I am doing the right thing, asking Princess out.”
“She is way out of your league, man.” Scott smirked. “Heck, all of them except for our House’ girls are way out of our league.”
“We are Hufflepuff, be proud of it.” Matt glared at his friend. “We may not be as daring and as chivalrous as Gryffindor nor are we as cunning as a Slytherin. And we don’t put much stock in wisdom but we are Hufflepuff. We are the one who toils hard and keep on marching when the over daring Gryffindor is vanquished by their own sense of grandeur. We persevere while the Slytherin snakes away in cowardice. We continue to work hard when the Ravenclaws are outwitted by their own overthinking. We are Hufflepuff. We are the silent heroes behind the lime lights, the one last one to leave the work given to us, the one who gets things done. Tell me, who would do the dirty works while the Gryffindor is jumping from one adventure to another; while the Slytherin is too busy scheming and the Ravenclaw too tied up with their books? The Hufflepuffs, of course, don’t you forget it.”
“I know all that but do you remember what happened during the first war? Who fought against him? How about the second war when we lost it all?” Scott glared back though Neville could see that he was just arguing for arguing sake and that Matt’s heated speech has touched him to the core. “We weren’t there. Our house simply rolled over and allowed others to die for us.”
“Our generations had made so many mistakes in the past. Don’t you follow their footsteps.” Matt replied back. “Remember Cedric Diggory. He proved that anyone could be a champion that glory is not limited to the other three houses. Do not spoil his memory with take of belittling yourself.”
“I hear you, man. Believe me, I hear you.” Scott raised his two hands in surrender. “All I am saying is that Princess or any girls from the other houses barely pays attention to us. How the heck will you be able to win her if she doesn’t even recognize your existence?”
“She is different. I wouldn’t be attracted to her if she weren’t,” Matt stared in the fire. “I will woo her and she will go out with me. Mark my words and I will prove to you that a lowly Hufflepuff can be at par with boys from other houses.”
“If you go out with you, you will be above all boys in this school.” Scott chuckled. “Do you know how many boys are drooling over her?”
“Enough about Princess and enough changing the topic…what did the letter say?” Matt raised a brow at Scott. “Or did you think I have already forgotten about it already?”
“The letter is none of your concern.” Scott mumbled, looking out.
“Is your sister…?”
“Shut up…” Scott barely whispered the words.
“All I am asking is whether she is…”
Everybody in the common gasped in unison as Matt stumbled away from Scott, his lips bleeding from the unexpected punch that hit him like a bullet train.
“I said shut up about my bloody sister!” Scott stood up, pushing people that are blocking his way to their room, Neville silently following him. His dorm mate saw his angry face and wisely chose to leave the room for their safety.
He went to his side table and took out a letter. Judging by its look it has been crumpled many times and as he flattened it, Neville could see marks where tears have fallen into it.
I do not wish to burden you with bad tidings but your father and I think it would be better if you hear this from us rather than from the Daily Prophets.
Last night, our house was attacked by death eaters. We tried to fight them off but we were no match. Your father was wounded and we were forced to watch while they carted off your little sister. We heard from one of them that they are carting them off to Malfoy Mansion. Your father, his wounds not even healed has left to plead for her at the Mansion but no witch has yet to leave the mansion once they were carted into it.
My heart is breaking for your little sister and I pray she will have the courage and strength to survive the trials ahead of her. Promise me you will not do anything foolish like leave Hogwarts and try to be a hero. Promise me you will stay there where it is safe.
Know that I cannot bear it if anything happens to you as well.
Scott crumpled the letter and slammed his fist on the table.
Neville could only sympathize with what the boy is feeling. If it was him, he would be trying to sneak out of Hogwarts by now. He looked around as the door opened.
Neville knew Scott has heard the door opening but the Hufflepuff didn’t turn around. He simply hastily wiped his tears away as he stood ramrod, the letter still clutched in his fist.
“Not now…” Scott sniffed. “I…”
“You got all weepy for punching your best friend. I understand.” Matt chuckled, lying on his bed. Despite his jovial voice, Neville saw that the emotion did not reach his eyes. The professor only saw sadness in there as the boy gave the crumpled letter a glance. “I forgive you, don’t you worry about it.”
“You’re a class act, Matt…” Neville murmured to himself.
“That’s cool…” Scott gave one last sniffed before he turned to look at Matt with gratitude in his eyes.
“So…” Matt smirked. “Do you want to know how I will win the most coveted girl of my batch?”
The Metamorphmagus and the Gryffindor Poster Child
Neville left Scott memory with awe and newfound respect for the friendship shared by the two Hufflepuff. He has three memories left to check or rather two. Just like Adam and Connor sharing the same cherished memory so do Roberts and Chase. With Jake being famous for daring to date a Slytherin, Neville sometimes forget that both Gryffindor were once an item.
Looking at the two similar memories, he chose Diana Chase. It would be interesting to look into Chase’s perspective rather than Robert’s who is easy to read. Swirling the memory, he lowered his face into the pensieve.
He found himself in unfamiliar hazy room but base on his mastery and experience of it, Neville knew immediately that he was in the Room of Requirement. The room was dark except for the fireflies on the ceiling. The floor was littered with red rose petals and a heart-shaped bed was at the center. Neville had to squint through the haze permitting the room to see the bed. Under its comforter, lay the two Gryffindor, locked in each other’s arm.
“Awkward…” Neville muttered, raising his wand to fast-forward the memory.
The scene shifted and Neville found himself in the same room. The two Gryffindor was still at it in the bed.
“Geesh!” He rolled his eyes and fast-forwarded the memory again. This time, he found them still in the bed but the deed was already done and the two were just basking in the after effect of their love-making.
“Note to self: include this room in my rounds every night.” Neville muttered as he walked closer to the couple.
“For a fourth grader, you do know your way in bed, Jake.” Diana smiled as she held the comforter to her chest.
“Isn’t this better than you kept trying to undermine all my pranks?” Jake asked laughingly as sat up and reclined on the bed’s headrest.
“This doesn’t change a thing, Jake.” Diana glared at him, her hair changing into fiery red color. “I will still stop you in all your pranking. And as your girlfriend, I will have more leverage on you.”
“Leverage? Like what?” Jake raised a brow.
“Like this…” Her hand roamed under the comforter and Neville could only guess its destination. “For every prank I trace to you, you wont get any of this…get my drift?”
“I just have to be pretty careful with my plans then.” Jake laughed.
“Seriously Jake, why do you all these? Why do you keep risking your safety with the Carrows?” Diana asked, her face turning serious, her hair turning to ash gray. “We are living in a dark world, Jake, a world where everything is turned upside down, where right is wrong and wrong is right, where it is ok to kill someone simply because you like to. You get what I am saying? One of these days, your pranks will go too far and the Carrows will not be so lenient. It is not in their DNA to be so. They will kill you. Worse, they will keep you on the verge of death forever, to be used as their torture playmate.”
“I can take care of myself.” Jake sighed, looking away.
“Outside these walls, girls like me are carted off to Malfoy Mansion every day. They all thought they can protect and take care of themselves. But when death eater gangs up on you, no matter how powerful or good you are, you are going down.”
“I don’t think the Carrow will go that far.” Jake shrugged. “The Dark Lord has too much respect for this school that he has given this place his protection. The Carrows will not dare kill one of us.”
“As I said, there are things worse than death.”
“Can we just agree to this agree?” Jake asked. “Besides, we only have a few hours. It would be a waste of time just to spend it talking.”
“I’m done with you yet.” Diana growled but was soon silenced when Jake claimed her lips.
The scene shifted and Neville found himself in the Dungeon and his stomach blanched. He knows this moment. This was the moment he decided he hated the Carrows. It was this moment he swore to make their life miserable as long as they claim to be professors of this school.
A day before this memory was made, Jake successfully pulled off one of his massive prank. He had somehow managed to charm the armors all over the school to spew out maggots, bugs and worms at any passing Slytherin, the Carrows include.
It was successful and it was famous. It was also the Carrows’ last straw.
Neville looked around to see Jake lying in the corner of the dungeon, lying in the pool of his own blood, one arm still hanging from the manacles on the wall. Over him, knelt Diana Chase fervently whispering healing charms.
“I’m ok…” Jake whispered weakly.
“No you are not.” Diana said between healing charms. “Most of your bones just got broken and there are multiple lacerations all over your body.”
“I didn’t even give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream.” Jake tried to smile but his lips don’t seem to want to follow. “I took their best and I’m still…”
“Shhhh…conserve your strength…you need to survive this. You need to live…” Diana murmured, tearing trailing her cheeks.
Neville turned around to see himself and Hannah rushed to Jake’s side.
The memory shifted again to reveal the clinic. Jake was lying in one of them. Except for his head, his whole body was in a jelly-like state. Hannah has removed all his broken bones and has forced him to drink a massive those of skele-grow potion.
“It’s over Jake.” Diana said from where she was standing beside his bed. Tears were still flowing from her eyes. “I like you…perhaps even love you but I can’t go on like this. I can’t live forever fearing that one of these days, what happened yesterday will repeat itself. Someone will approach me to tell me you just got tortured to an inch of your life.”
“I could try to change…” Jake said lamely.
“No…you know what was wrong between us from the start, Jake? That this relationship was built on one thing: my effort to change you from your pranking ways. I realize that I was trying to make you a different person than who you are right now. That is just so wrong. And this whole relationship started so wrong.”
“We can start anew then…”
“No…I think we are better as friend than lovers…” Diana wiped a tear as she turned away.
“What if you are wrong?” Jake shot back. Neville was surprised to see tears on the boy’s cheek as well. He really did feel something for Diana.
“Then we’ll end up in each other’s arm again.” Diana smiled sadly at him before walking out of the door.
The Slytherin Belle
Neville Longbottom sighed to himself as he poured a vial of gossamer white liquid into the pensieve he nicked from the Headmaster’s office. The last memory, the one from Diana Chase was a little bit hard on the heart. He used his wand to swirl it around until a miniaturize version of the Slytherin student emerged, mumbling incoherent words.
“Do you have to do that now?” Hannah asked from their bed, one hand holding the blanket to cover her chest. “The night is almost over and we have done it only twice.”
“Apocalyptic war is coming to us and these students will go out there to fight the good fight with nothing but our teachings as their armor.” Neville’s shoulder slumped. “I can’t help but feel that we are sending them to their death.”
“We are sending them to fight for a better future.” Hannah stood up from the bed, letting the blanket pool on the floor as she went to him and hugged him from behind. “The same way we once tried to fight for our future.”
“Not this time around.” Hannah said with conviction as she buried her face on his back. “We will fight side by side our students and together we will retake our destiny from the Dark Lord’s clutches. We will share the danger, the heartaches and the eventual victory with them.”
“They are going to war on our order.” Neville insisted. “And when the time comes when we will mourn for them, mark my word we will, I want to be able to bury them and say I knew them in and out, that they were not just one of thousand students who pass by Hogwarts every year.”
“So you stole some of their innermost memories and thoughts?” Hannah sighed, knowing deep down that Neville is right. Not all their DA will survive the coming war with the Dark Lord.
“Borrowed is the right term for it.” Neville muttered before he plunged his face on the pensieve.
Neville found himself in a small hut. Based on the school records, he surmised he is in small province in India. An old man was sitting in a rocking chair, slowly plucking music from a string guitar as he stared forlornly out of the nearby window.
“The Dalits are never respected…” The old man murmured. “She would still be alive if it weren’t…”
Neville turned around when the door creaked open to reveal a panting little girl, clutching a loaf on bred on her chest. The girl was wearing almost tattered clothes; from head to toe she was almost covered in dirt. She nervously looked behind her shoulder before she closed the door. Only then did she slump on the floor, the bread still clutched tightly. She stifled a scream when the old man stopped playing with one last high pitched strum.
“What do you have there, child?” The old man croaked. When he turned his gaze to the child, Neville involuntarily took a step back as he noticed the old man’s eyes. Instead of black, they were white. For one brief moment, the old man’s blind gaze passed by Neville before it settled back to the child. He knows the old man is blind yet Neville felt the shivers overcome him as if the old man has not only seen him but has seen the very depths of his soul.
“A loaf of bread, grandpapa…” The child whispered. “I took it from the market…used my magic as you told me too but I almost got caught…I had to…”
“Come here.” The old man beckoned the child with his right forefinger. The child nervously stood up. Neville felt sorry for her. He could see her small body shake in fear as she slowly walked toward her grandpapa.
A flick of the old man’s finger and the loaf of broad floated from the child who let out a surprised gasp, her hand trying to grasp the bread in a futile effort. She watched as the bread floated into a nearby table.
“Come closer.” The old man gave the child the full weight of his white stare and Neville bit his lower lips as the child whimpered in agitation as she took the final step that placed her within grabbing distance with the old man.
“You were almost caught because you got clumsy.” The old man croaked and before Neville could blink, the old man’s arm struck the child on her face, toppling her. Blood mingled with her tears on the floor as her lips broke and eyes shed tears of pain and fear. She covered her bruised cheek as she crawled into a fetal position, her eyes wide with fear.
“You got clumsy because you got distracted.” The old man flicked his hand and the girl flew from the floor to slam against the hut’s brick wall.
“Grandpapa, please…” The child croaked in fear as she lay on the ground. Neville could see her limps shaking in her effort to move but somehow it wouldn’t follow her. “I didn’t mean to be distracted…there was another beggar…she was crying from hunger…no one was…”
“How many times do I have to teach you to focus on your goal? Others don’t matter! Only your goal matters.” The old man croaked as he flicked his hand, magically pulling the girl up and slamming her on the wall spread eagled, this time she remained there as if stuck like glue.
“Never allow yourself to be distracted by anyone!” The old man punctuated every word by banging the child against the wall. “Long have they persecuted the Dalits. Long have they shunned your kind so why should you care about them? They would eagerly step on you if ever they give you a chance…if you show any ounce of weakness. Never give them the pleasure, child. We are Dalits, the Untouchable. Our kind has survived for centuries because our forefathers refused to conform and bow to the elitist rule. We are… eh…impressive…you managed to penetrate my formidable charms.”
Neville swallowed a lump in his throat and thanked the heaven that he is just an onlooker in a memory that has long since passed.
A turban-sporting wizard stood calmly near the window, the fading light outside giving a reddish aura.
“How old is she?” Professor Quirrel mouth opened yet it was the Dark Lord’s voice that Neville heard. With an almost imperceptible glance, the child fell to the floor moaning.
“She is small for her age but…”
“In three years’ time she, like all Dasit, will receive a letter from different Magical schools, Hogwarts being one of them. Unlike the rest of the Dasit, she will accept the Hogwarts invitation.” The voice coming from Professor Quirrel spoke with such menace that the old man was forced back into his seat.
“You might wear that skin but I can see through you.” The old man defiantly spoke, his hands gripping at armrest. “Mark my word, self-styled Lord. The boy that once caused your downfall will once again rise to oppose you.”
“Oh I expect him to do so.” The maniacal voice laughed as Quirrel turned toward the child cowering on the floor. “And this child will vital to my plan against the so-called Boy-Who-Lived. Funding will be waiting for her in Hogwarts when she finally enrolls. I have it in good source that the boy will enter the school this year. If he survives my machinations to come, he will be in his third year when this child enters the school. She will study and excel. She will learn much more than she could learn from your harsh techniques. Most of all, I want her to observe the boy, gleam as much information about him, know his strength and his weakness, learn his basest desire and most lofty dream. In time she will know everything about him and how he ticks.”
“You want her to spy for you?” The old man tried to stand up but a force slammed him back on his seat.
“What I want from her is no concern of yours.” Quirrel sat on his hunches as he raised the child’s face with his hand on her chin.
“Don’t you think I have not seen this coming?” The old man rasped. “I have trained her for this purpose. Mark my word, her decision at the time of choosing will not bode well for y…”
A glance from Quirrel silenced the old man.
“Now tell me, child. What is your name?”
Neville sighed as he pulls himself out of the memory, his mind wracked with many possibilities and conflicting thoughts.
“She had buried this particular memory deep with her mind…I now know the reason.” He muttered.
“Didn’t like what you saw?” Hannah asked from the bed.
“Maybe looking into these memories was a wrong idea after all.” Neville muttered as he stood up and joined Hannah in the bed. “I hate this feeling…being disappointed and lead on by someone.”
“What did you found in there?” Hannah raised a brow, her interest peaked.
“We might have just recruited a sleeper agent…”
NEXT CHAPTER: RETURN OF A FIERY RED HEAD
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