A/N: Happy Labor Day, everyone! These next two chapters are… a bit unusual, I think, but hopefully pleasant to read anyway. Chapter Six is a bit short, but that's simply because I can't split up the next plot development. (You'll see why next week.) I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Five
Autumn had finally caught up with them, it seemed, as trees came alive in gold and orange and red. Swift breezes and brisk skies watched over Heart Haven's happy chaos, and Neville would be downright lying to himself if he denied that he was feeling slightly envious of the family warmth that encompassed the entirety of the Potter household.
Hermione and Luna had asked to meet with him that day, and Neville-needing, in an odd way, to rid himself of nervous energy-had decided to walk part of the way. So here he was, strolling along the lane with his hands tucked in his pockets, leaves breaking crisply under his feet.
"Neville! Neville, it's us!"
He jumped and looked up; he could see Jackie Potter dashing toward him, waving a hand, and her father behind her, pushing Teddy in the stroller.
"Hello," he said, smiling, as Jackie puffed up to him, her cheeks ruddy from her run. "How are you?"
"I learned a song today," Jackie boasted, in the blunt, unapologetic manner of four-year-olds. "Only Mama says it's for Christmas, but I want to sing it anyway."
Promptly, she burst into "Deck the Halls" with every indication that she had absolutely no idea what she was singing. She had clearly forgotten the words, but this did not appear to worry her; she simply substituted her own words and, if she felt the performance was lagging, picked up the pace when she reached the `Fa La La La Las'.
"Deck the halls with bowls of jelly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Tis the season to be… be… Molly, fa-fa-la-la-la-la-la-la!"
Neville knew he would never sing that song with a straight face again. Harry made it up the lane just as Jackie was urging Neville to, "Follow me to buried treasure, fa-la-la, fa-la-la, la-la-la!"
"Hi," said Harry, as Jackie finished on a particularly soulful `la'. "Er… good show, Jackie. Maybe we'll stick with one song for now."
"I could sing another one," said Jackie, very sweetly. Harry coughed and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Maybe later, Jack-Jack."
"Ron taught me the Cannons fight song," said Jackie, with a persuasive widening of her eyes. "You like that song, don't you, Papa?"
"Jackie-"
"Hail, you men of orange and cour-age…!" Jackie warbled with gusto. Teddy gurgled in puzzlement and kicked his feet slightly.
"Jackie," said Harry, more sternly this time. "Did you hear me?"
Jackie stuck out her bottom lip and pouted visibly, but fell obediently silent.
"Hermione and Luna are waiting for you," said Harry to Neville. "She really appreciates you coming over on our day off, you know."
"No, I'm glad I could come." Neville noticed Jackie getting restless. "I'll… erm… just let you go, then."
"Thanks, Nev. We'll be back to the house in a bit. C'mon, Jackie!"
"Can I ride in the stroller, Papa?" Neville heard Jackie asked as they walked past him.
"No, not this time. You're big enough to walk by yourself, don't you think?"
"But I'm tired!"
It took Neville about another half-hour to arrive at the house. Yasmine and Dusty waved at him from the big oak tree in the front yard.
"Neville, could you get our kite down? It's stuck!"
He paused, looking up at the two hopeful faces looking at him from above. The tree rustled in a very crisp sort of way, and he drew his wand.
"Sure."
"It's on the top," Yasmine said, swinging casually further up the tree with surprising nimbleness. "Dusty nearly reached it, but the branches are too thin."
She grasped a branch with one hand and leaned out, peering at Neville's wand with curious dark eyes.
"Can't you just climb up here?"
Neville stared at her, surprised. "I thought I'd summon it."
"Oh, you don't have to do that. You only need to come up part of the way; you're tall. Besides, it might rip."
She pushed her feet off the tree trunk, dangled from a branch by both hands, then dropped to the ground beside Neville. Bright orange leaves were tangled in her dark hair, and she smoothed it down slightly.
"If you back up a little, you should be able to see it."
He backed up obediently, gazing up at the tree. He could see a bright blue kite entangled among the oak's tallest boughs, bobbing anxiously up and down with the tree's movements.
"If you climb to where Dusty is standing, we think you'll be able to reach it." Yasmine combed aside some of her stray hair with meticulous fingers. "If you don't mind, of course-I mean… please."
He grinned a little at that, and-steeling himself-he took hold of one of the branches and hoisted himself up.
Dusty scooted over for him and pointed upwards.
"Yeah, I see it," said Neville, squinting. "Right."
He cleared his throat and reached for the kite. It shuddered a little at the wind's prodding, but-after a bit of maneuvering-Neville managed to seize hold of the kite by the tail.
"Be careful!" Yasmine said anxiously, "It might rip-"
"No, no, I got it," said Neville, reassuringly, "Here-"
He pulled gently and the kite came free in his hands.
"There you go, Dusty."
Dusty smiled at him warmly and patted his arm in thanks. Then, with as much agility as Yasmine, he bounded out of the tree and landed lightly on the ground, holding the kite.
Neville got down with a bit more difficulty than either of the children, finding that he had to hunch over slightly in order to avoid hitting himself on the head.
"Thank you," said Yasmine gratefully. "Mama's inside with Luna."
He waved and strode toward the house, shivering a little as a wind stirred up. The house was already showing signs of Jackie's enthusiastic decorations-a few crayon drawings of pumpkins and pies hung festively in the window, as did a few paper cutouts of yellow and orange leaves. He reached the porch and noticed three new bikes propped up against the wall.
"Thank you, Neville," said a voice, and he jumped. Hermione held the door open for him and motioned him inside. "That was good of you."
"They wouldn't let me use magic," he said, curiously. Hermione smiled.
"That doesn't surprise me."
When he looked at her blankly, she shrugged and explained, "We try to let them problem-solve on their own first. We'll use magic if they need it, but I think it makes them more independent and creative."
"Well, they definitely know how to climb trees," was all Neville could say to that. Hermione laughed.
"Yasmine and Dusty, especially. Won't you sit down?"
He sat down at the kitchen table, looking around at the cozy, neat little kitchen.
"Hello, Neville," said Luna to him from across the table. She was doodling idly on a piece of paper with a crayon and sipping at a cup of something hot. He smiled.
"Hello."
"Would you like something to drink?" Hermione offered. "We have hot chocolate, if you'd like. The girls made it."
"It's delicious," Luna said, drawing a spiral across her paper scrap. Neville looked over at Hermione and nodded.
"I'll have some of that, then, please."
"Have you had a good day off?" Hermione said, as she turned away and ladled the hot chocolate into a mug. "Harry said you were all ready for a break."
"Oh, yeah… it's been-all right, I guess," said Neville uncomfortably. He didn't like to add that he'd been planning on spending it alone.
Evidently he didn't need to, for Hermione turned and studied him carefully.
"You're always welcome here," she said after a moment, softly. "You know that, don't you?"
Neville took the mug. "Thanks, Hermione."
He'd almost asked Harry last week if he could visit on their day off, but it had embarrassed him, and it was hard to explain exactly how grateful he'd been to receive Hermione's letter. He'd never been really close friends with anyone at Hogwarts, he'd realized, or not close enough that they would have had reason to miss him.
"You are staying for dinner, aren't you?" she asked, in a more normal tone of voice. "I told Harry to ask you yesterday, but…"
"Oh, yes, he asked," said Neville quickly, "and… yeah, I'm planning on staying. Thanks."
She sat next to him with her own mug of hot chocolate and glanced at Luna.
"We have a… question to ask you."
Luna put down her crayon, and the atmosphere in the kitchen changed noticeably.
"We want to help your parents," Luna said, simply.
His heart dropped and he stared at them, his mouth falling open. Surely, they weren't… but no, Luna was rarely anything but sincere, and Hermione was looking at him quite intently.
"You're… you're serious?" he blurted out.
"Of course we are." Hermione sipped at her hot chocolate and let him digest the thought.
Of course Hermione wanted to help, he realized, he may not know Hermione as well as, obviously, her husband, but everyone knew that Hermione Potter was a problem-solver.
"My parents aren't a project," he said, perhaps more shortly than the situation required, "I know you-you want to help-but… but they aren't just… I mean-they're not just a… a problem!"
"I know," Hermione said, looking alarmed and leaning forward. "Oh, dear-that's not what I-"
"No, maybe not," said Neville, "but we've had our fair share of people who had that idea in their heads, and they didn't help anything. Besides, there's not much… not much hope-"
"Oh, what a terrible thing to say, Neville," said Luna, in an almost reproachful voice. He flushed.
"Well, isn't there?" he said, looking at them both defiantly. His hands were sweaty; suddenly, he felt as though he were a kid again, the school joke at Hogwarts-
"We wouldn't ask you if we didn't think there was hope," said Hermione after a moment. "I've talked to some of the Healers who worked with your parents, and apart from the Healer you have now-McDonough-none of them seem to be willing to-understand your parents, as people."
"And what makes you think you'll be any different?" The moment he said it, a memory crashed over him like a tidal wave… a periwinkle, a soft touch-a smile... he regretted his words immediately, and he looked away.
"I think," said Luna, serenely, "that you'll find love makes a great deal of difference."
He stared at her.
"What Luna means is," said Hermione quietly, "we care about you, Neville. And we care about your parents, too. It's not a matter of problem-solving. It's… it's trying to reunite your family. I can't promise we'll be successful, but-I can at least promise you that we're trying for the right reasons."
He let out a breath and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly.
He couldn't help but remember every time he'd met Luna in the hospital-she'd sit there and talk to Alice about things like the seasons or her favourite colors. Or, that one, burning memory of Hermione, kneeling in front of his mother with his bouquet in her hands-
Despite himself, something in him started to hope.
"All right," he said, hoarsely, "But… I'll have to talk to Gran first."
"Of course." Hermione said, and Luna beamed at him. Neville smiled back weakly.
And he couldn't help but think-I may not have parents, but… at least I have friends like them.
^*^*^*^*^
All things considered, things couldn't have been much worse.
"Seriously, Ben, you need to find another way to get to class."
"There is no other way," Ben replied to Sam through gritted teeth, as Audrey scrubbed at his hair with a dubious look on her face. "And Peeves looks for me on purpose."
Sam surveyed Ben skeptically.
"Well," said Audrey, trying to boost Ben's spirits, "It's at least purple for the Quidditch match."
This did not appear to cheer Ben up. He shrugged his shoulders moodily and stared at the wall.
"You could wear a hat," said Nathan, tilting his head and studying him. "It's odd, the way the water rolls off your robes like that. What's the charm?"
"Impervius," said Audrey, "Cheer up, Ben. You'll have your hair back by the end of the week, like always."
"Is any of it coming off?" Ben asked grumpily, uncharacteristically ignoring Audrey's attempts to cheer him up. He stared at the water streaming down the flagstones of the secluded corner where they were standing.
"A little," Audrey said, stretching the truth and shooting a warning look at Jacob, who had opened his mouth to reply quite differently. He rolled his eyes but shut his mouth. "Maybe we'll try again later."
Nathan handed her a towel and she dried her hands.
"Here," she said, giving Ben the towel. "Use this to dry off."
"Have you considered an umbrella?" said Sam, "You could decorate it."
Jacob snickered appreciatively as Ben pulled the towel over his head.
"This is stupid," he said in a muffled voice, "Why me?"
"Why Audrey?" Jacob put in slyly, "Can't you wash your own hair?"
"It was Professor Slughorn's idea," said Nathan, cutting in before Audrey could snap at Jacob, "He thought it might come out better if one of us tried it."
"Thanks for trying," said Ben wearily, shaking his hair a little. "I guess we can go to dinner."
They saw Katy with a group of friends on the way. She waved, the way she always did, and then pointed to his hair questioningly. He shrugged and held up his hands, signaling his resignation.
They branched off to their respective House tables. Ben and Audrey settled into their normal spots at the table just as the food appeared.
"Nice hair, Potter," said a freckled sixth-year. Ben flushed.
"Have some potatoes," Audrey said hastily, scooping the mashed potatoes onto his plate. Ben glowered and stabbed the fluffy pile with a bit more vehemence than normal.
"What did your mother say? In your letter?" she asked, trying to take his mind off his hair.
"Nothing interesting."
Audrey sighed and returned to her food, resigned. There were a few minutes of silence ensued before a conversation at the Gryffindor table caught their attention.
"You think you're so much better than we are, don't you?"
"I- I don't know what you mean-"
Ben and Audrey whipped around at the same time. A brawny Slytherin first year was towering over Katy, flanked by two of his surly friends. Katy looked petrified.
"Shut up, Harland," said one of the boys sitting next to Katy angrily, "ignore him, Katy, he doesn't know what he's talking about."
Ben was out of his seat in less than a second; he seized the first year by the arm and turned him around forcibly.
"Leave my sister alone," Ben snarled, "or-or-or I'll…"
The first year, who was actually much taller than Ben and much stronger, yanked his arm out of Ben's grip.
"Your know-it-all sister isn't worth my time," he snapped back, and, jerking his head at his friends, the first year stalked away.
Ben turned to Katy, still clutching the butter knife in a vice-like grip.
Katy looked close to tears.
"I didn't mean to show off," she said shakily, "I only did what I was supposed to, Ben."
"She didn't show off," said Halley Parker hotly from beside Katy. "Jason and I were there. She just studies, that's all. Harland's the show off."
"What's going on?" Nathan, Sam and Jacob had all hurried over at the sound of Ben's voice.
Audrey let Ben continue to talk to Katy and explained the situation to the others.
"He's a spoiled little git," Jacob said immediately when she had finished, "Bit of a Mummy's boy, too. Come to think of it, I might have time to take the mickey out of him tomorrow morning-I bet we could sneak a Puking Pastile into his pumpkin juice-they dissolve in seconds. Anyone in Slytherin would give their right arm to shut him up for a bit."
"Harland hates being beaten," Halley explained to Ben, "and Katy's the best in our year. His father manages the Holyhead Harpies and Harland thought he'd be the famous one, but of course Katy beat him to that, too."
"And Professor Slughorn always compliments her on anything," Jason, Nathan's younger brother, added, "He's already invited her to his office."
"You should stand up to him," Ben said, looking at Katy. She looked terrified.
"We've tried," said Jason, coming to Katy's rescue, "I knocked him down yesterday and he yelled like anything. I've got a week's worth of detention for one measly little bruise on his leg. He won't shut up, Harland. His friends only like him for the free Quidditch tickets anyway."
"I don't want to get in trouble, Ben," said Katy earnestly, "I just couldn't. What would Mama say?"
Ben couldn't think of anything to say to that.
But, he thought after a moment, his purple hair didn't seem half as bad anymore.
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