The corridors of Hogwarts were silent that day. Aurelian walked with his hands in the pockets of his robe, letting his footsteps echo softly against the ancient floor. He had spent much of the previous night reviewing runic manuscripts in the Chamber, and now his mind sought rest.
It was then, as he turned down a corridor leading to the backyard, that he stopped. Through a large window, the grassy field spread out like a green tapestry, and he recognized a scene that made him stop in his tracks: the first flying lesson for first-year students.
Madame Hooch, with her yellow glasses and stern expression, stood with a group of nervous students around her. Twenty broomsticks lay on the ground, and at the command of "Up!", they began to react. Some rose obediently in their owners' hands, others remained motionless, and a few rose awkwardly before falling.
Aurelian leaned one shoulder against the cold stone wall, watching silently. He easily recognized Harry Potter, the boy everyone called the Chosen One. His broom was one of the first to respond with precision, as if it had been waiting for this moment his entire life. The naturalness of the gesture made him smile.
In contrast, Neville Longbottom's clumsiness was immediately apparent: his broom shook like an untamed horse, and although he tried to hold it with both hands, he was soon shot upward, screaming in terror. The image fit perfectly with what he remembered from the books, but seeing it in person awakened a strange feeling in him.
A murmur of laughter ran through the group when Neville lost control and ended up falling, fortunately without serious injury. Madame Hooch immediately took him to the infirmary, while the rest of the class remained disorderly and agitated.
It was then that Aurelian noticed another detail. Malfoy picking up Neville's Remembrall with a mocking smile, challenging Harry with an arrogant grin that seemed part of his nature. Harry mounting the broom without hesitation, soaring through the air with surprising control for a novice, chasing Malfoy with a determination that drew applause from his classmates.
The Carrow twins appeared in the same hallway and noticed that he was watching the children. They approached, curious, and Flora was the first to ask.
"What are you looking at so intently?"
"Just something I found amusing," Aurelian replied enigmatically, without taking his eyes off the child who was flying with a triumphant smile.
Hestia looked at him strangely. Aurelian, however, felt a knot in his stomach. From now on, his own path and that of The Boy Who Lived were destined to intertwine in ways he could not yet foresee.
And when that moment comes... which side will I really be on?
The murmur of the students had just died down in the hallways when Aurelian turned toward the infirmary. The twins accompanied him, still commenting and questioning why they were going there.
When he reached the doors, Aurelian stopped. Through the windows, he could see Neville Longbottom lying on a bed, his robe wrinkled and one arm bandaged. The boy did not appear to be seriously injured, but his gaze was lost on the wall, fixed and empty, as if everything that had happened had penetrated much deeper than he was showing.
He turned to Hestia and Flora, who were looking at him silently.
"I'll see you later in the common room," he said softly.
The twins frowned, reluctant to leave him alone. Flora was the first to protest.
"Are you going in to see that boy?" she said irritably.
"Yes," Aurelian replied firmly, though without losing his composure. "It'll only take a moment."
Hestia looked at him with some discomfort. Both of them approached him. Noticing this, Aurelian kissed each of them on the cheek goodbye. The slight blush that colored their faces did not go unnoticed, nor did the way they stood watching him for a few more seconds before leaving.
When he was sure they had gone, Aurelian took a deep breath and gently pushed open the door to the infirmary.
"Good morning, Madam Pomfrey," he greeted her politely as he entered.
The nurse, busy arranging potions on a shelf, looked up and nodded with a brief smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Gaunt. I hope you're not here to add to my workload today."
Aurelian let out a slight laugh.
"No, just visiting."
With steady but calm steps, he approached the bed where Neville was sitting. The boy was slow to react, barely noticing his presence, and tensed up a little. There was something about Aurelian's figure—his bearing, his magic—that intimidated many.
"How are you feeling?" Aurelian asked quietly, pulling up a nearby chair to sit across from him.
Neville blinked, surprised by the question, then looked down.
"Fine... I guess," he replied with a touch of sadness in his voice. "It wasn't anything serious."
Aurelian watched him for a few seconds, noticing the barely perceptible tremor in his hands, the way he clutched the blanket between his fingers as if trying to hold on to something.
"You shouldn't hide what you're feeling," Aurelian said, leaning forward slightly. "It wasn't the fall that hurt the most, was it? It was... maybe the laughter of the others."
Neville swallowed and nodded slowly, not daring to look him in the eye.
Aurelian took a deep breath before speaking again:
"Listen to me, Neville. Courage isn't measured by how high you fly or how fast you learn. It's measured by getting up every time the world tries to knock you down. I believe that, even if you can't see it yet, there's more courage in you than in most of those who laughed today."
The boy barely looked up, as if that voice had pierced the armor of shame that covered him.
Aurelian held his gaze and added.
"Don't let a fall define who you are. Because one day... you will be the one who stands up when others cannot."
Neville remained silent, his eyes shining with a glimmer of emotion as he listened to those words.
Madame Pomfrey returned at that moment with a soothing potion in a glass. Aurelian rose from his chair.
"Get well," he said softly, before giving him one last steady look and leaving the infirmary.
He had already taken a few steps toward the door when he heard his name whispered timidly.
"Aurelian... wait."
He turned, a little surprised. Neville was sitting on the bed, his cheeks flushed and his gaze trembling, as if he had gathered every ounce of courage he possessed to stop him.
Aurelian raised an eyebrow and slowly returned to him.
"Yes?"
Neville swallowed hard, clutching the edge of the blanket tightly.
"I... I've seen you." His voice broke at times, but he held on. "You always seem... so strong. As if nothing anyone says affects you."
Silence stretched for a moment, broken only by Madame Pomfrey's voice in the background cursing something about potions.
"I..." Neville looked down, then looked up with determination. "I admire you. Really. I want... I want to be like you."
Aurelian was surprised by the comment. It was unusual for someone, especially someone like Neville, to express such honesty.
"You want to be like me?" he asked in a calm voice, a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
Neville nodded quickly, taking a deep breath as if the decision had already been made.
"I want to be strong. Not just so that others will respect me... but because I'm tired of feeling afraid every time something goes wrong. Tired of... of being left behind."
The words resonated with Aurelian like an echo of his own thoughts. He thought about why he liked the character of Neville in the books. They were... to some extent similar, with the difference that Neville didn't give up on himself. He kept trying to be better, even when he had already given up on life...
He stood in front of him, evaluating him, seeing not the clumsy boy that many overlooked, but the strength he hid, a fire that he did not yet know how to burn.
Finally, Aurelian leaned forward slightly.
"Strength doesn't come overnight, Neville. It takes training, patience, and above all, willpower. If you really want to be better... maybe I can teach you."
The boy's eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time in a long time, an "uncertain but genuine" smile appeared on his face.
"R-really?"
"Really," Aurelian confirmed firmly. "But listen to this clearly: if I agree to help you, there will be no excuses. If at any point I notice that you're not trying to improve, I'll stop wasting my time with you."
Neville straightened up a little, as if those harsh but direct words had both struck him and pushed him forward at the same time.
"I understand. I won't give up."
Aurelian nodded, satisfied with the answer.
"All right. Then we'll start after the Christmas holidays. You'll have time to think and decide if you really want to go down that path."
Neville's face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination.
"I will. Thank you, Aurelian."
Aurelian simply turned around and headed for the exit, leaving behind the promise of a different future for Neville Longbottom.
The Slytherin common room was lit by the glow of magical torches reflecting off the waters of the lake. Aurelian crossed the stone arch and had barely taken a few steps when two figures intercepted him.
"Aurelian!" Hestia and Flora said in unison, surrounding him with their arms, as if they had no intention of ever letting him go. The pressure of their hugs was so familiar that he simply let himself go, walking forward with them both hanging on him until he reached one of the black leather sofas near the fire.
"Well?" asked Flora, pressing herself a little closer to his arm. "How did it go with Longbottom?" she said, pronouncing Neville's surname coldly.
"Yes," said Hestia, her brow slightly furrowed and a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. "What did that useless fool want with you?"
Aurelian let out a brief laugh, amused by her attitude.
"Nothing important. Just... maybe it will help him improve."
The twins separated just enough to stare at him wide-eyed, as if what they had just heard was blasphemy.
"Help him?" Flora repeated, incredulous.
"You?" added Hestia, with a mixture of surprise and disgust. "Why would you waste your time on someone like him?"
Aurelian tilted his head, thinking about his earlier conversation with Neville.
"Think of it as an experiment. I want to see if he's capable of anything with the right guidance."
The twins pursed their lips almost simultaneously, their discomfort and irritation evident in every gesture. They hugged him tighter, making it clear that no Longbottom or anyone else could claim their attention.
Aurelian sighed calmly and raised his hands to rest them gently on their heads. His fingers ran through each of their dark hair with a slow, careful gesture.
"Don't worry," she said softly and tenderly, "Nothing and no one can replace you two."
The effect was immediate. Their eyes, previously tense, softened, and their hostility toward Neville turned into a barely contained blush. They both closed their eyes, enjoying the contact, as if the whole world had disappeared at that moment.
"It's okay..." whispered Flora, her eyes closed as she enjoyed his caresses.
"Just don't forget that you're ours," Hestia finished, hiding her face against his shoulder.
Aurelian smiled, continuing to stroke their heads. No matter how full his life was of ambitions, secrets, and plans, he knew it never hurt to help someone who was truly worth it.
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