Longbottom, Neville

Character's Full Name: Neville Longbottom
I like to be called: Neville
Gender:Male
Age: 16
Species Pureblood
House: Gryffindor
wand type?: Cherry, 13", unicorn hair (Second Wand)


Family: (list) Frank Longbottom (Father), Alice Longbottom (Mother), Agusta Longbottom (Grandmother), Algie (Great Uncle), Enid (Great Aunt)- Black Family (Relations)
Other significant people: (Optional)


Character Appearance: Neville was described as round-faced,[5] with a short, chubby build and blond hair. He had quite bucked teeth. He was called "fat" by Pansy Parkinson, but this may have been an exaggeration, as Pansy frequently made disparaging comments about Gryffindor students. Neville strongly resembled his mother.




Character History: Neville was born on 30 July, 1980 to Aurors Alice and Frank Longbottom. A pure-blood wizard, he is likely related to other wizarding families such as the Weasleys, Crouches, and the Blacks. Neville's parents were members of the Order of the Phoenix and in these roles, defied Lord Voldemort at least three times. Neville was one of two infants referred to in a prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney about the person with the power to defeat the Dark Lord. The other was Harry Potter, and it was Harry whom Voldemort targeted on 31 October, 1981, making Harry his equal and leading to his first defeat.[3]

Shortly after, a handful of Voldemort's most loyal followers attacked the Longbottoms. Frank and Alice were tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse by Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, as well as Barty Crouch Jr. The Death Eaters were all sentenced to Azkaban for their crimes, while Frank and Alice were sent to St Mungo's, where they would live the rest of their lives, not being able to recognise their own son. Neville was subsequently raised by his paternal grandmother, Augusta Longbottom.[4]

Neville's grandmother was a stern woman who was concerned when her grandson did not exhibit early signs of magic. His relatives feared that Neville might be a Squib, though this was disproved when his great-uncle Algie "accidentally" dropped him out of a window and he miraculously bounced. This followed various attempts to make him show signs of magic, including dropping him off Blackpool pier, where, according to Neville, he nearly drowned. Neville inherited his father's wand at the age of eleven when he started to attend Hogwarts. This wand was later broken during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.


RP example (2 paragraphs): Neville adjusted the bulb, carefully directing the heated lamp just a shade lower. More on the stalk than the leaves. Maybe it would help. The real irony about his job, he had realized more than once, was that it wasn't so different from potion-making. It was all about timing, patience, proper ingredients. Plants took a good deal more time than potions, of course, though their ingredients were simpler. Still, the qualities were the same. He couldn’t help a small smile as he studied the withered edges of the hybrid. Would realizing the similarities while back in school have made him better at Potions? Or worse in Herbology? His smile faded fast. He was patient with his projects - inhumanly patient, sometimes his coworkers liked to tease. But this project was tugging at his mind more and more. "Wish I knew what you needed," he murmured to the frail plant, brushing a leaf tip with a calloused finger only to wince at how slick and incorrect it felt. Professor Snape would be getting impatient, of course. Which would lead to another meeting consisting of Snape's glares and Neville's frustrating inability to truly share his side of things. Still, it was the plants themselves, this withered aloe cross-breed in front of him for instance, that really made him worry. Cultivating plants in foreign climates was always a challenge. He was starting to think that cross-breeding with native English plants might have been a mistake from the start. It was the healing properties that Snape wanted, but if he couldn't find a way to stabilize two such different species, it would be useless. It was obvious looking at his small, too-firm hybrid - this wasn't working. He was still missing something. Some element. Some ingredient. But he was patient. Inhumanly. He was smart, about this subject if no other. He could grow anything. That was his life. Growth. Living. Making things flourish, and maybe through that helping people in the way he used to want to when he was at Hogwarts and had ridiculous dreams about finding a cure for his parents' madness. He would grow this. Whatever it took.


Special abilities: N/A