A Grimly Grand Opportunity (Harry Potter, Neville/Luna, #12)
Title: A Grimly Grand Opportunity
Author: _infinite_enemy
Pairing: Neville/Luna
Fandom: Harry Potter
Theme: #12 a good mood
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Note: This is not a very romantic piece, but it was most certainly inspired by theme #12 and does contain a kiss.
A Gimly Grand Opportunity
Neville Longbottom was 27 years old. He had graduated from Hogwarts and participated in the down taking of Lord Voldemort. He was tall and strong and a tiny bit handsome, in a boyish way. He was married to the wonderful wife Luna Lovegood whom he loved, they were expecting a baby in a few months, and now he was about to get the final piece in a perfect life: his dream job. He had been working as an Herbology Consultant for the past few years, but it wasn't what he really wanted to do. The Owl that he had received last week was met with the stunned realization that what he did want was possible--and he would do anything to get that job.
He straightened his professional black robes and cleared his throat. The stone Gargoyle before him was just as he had remembered it in his years at school. Children gave him unabashedly odd looks as they passed him in the hall. Some, including what looked like two Slytherin Fifth years in the second floor corridor were too busy snogging each other to even give him a glance. He ignored all of them as politely as he could, took a final deep breath, and stated the password. "Lion King." he said. The once lifeless gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a large stone door through which was a large stone circular staircase. He stepped onto it and was propelled upwards at a very fluid pace, the grinding of stones a pleasant rumble beneath his feet. When the stairs ceased their spinning, Neville knocked smartly on the door before him.
"Enter." Said a stern voice. Gulping reflexively, he entered the room. It was a very handsome room, and immaculately tidy. Behind the large wooden desk was a stern elderly woman, her hair in a tight bun and witch's hat perched atop her head. The skin of her face was well wrinkled but taut. She, like Neville's own grandmother, was a woman who inspired good behavior in children and adults alike.
"Headmistress McGonagall." Neville nodded politely. "I was delighted to receive your letter last week. I want you to know that this opportunity means quite a lot to me." His speech was eloquent--written by his wife and repeated like a mantra the entire walk up to the castle--but he was still huddled nervously by the door.
"Yes yes." The headmistress motioned impatiently to Neville to sit down. He tiptoed over to the chair across from her and sat in it as gently as possible.
"Longbottom, I apologize about the suddenness of this request, but it really is important. The students need a teacher, and I think that of my options, you are the most qualified." She spoke in a very businesslike manner.
"Erm…thank you."
"Professor Sprout retired last year, and we've had a new professor in her place since last year." Neville nodded. He had been aware of Sprout's failing Health. She had suffered greatly during the war against Lord Voldemort, and after only a few years back at Hogwarts, had to retire for health reasons. She wasn't much older than Professor McGonagall, but then, she wasn't quite as sturdy either. McGonagall, like her predecessor Dumbledore, seemed almost ageless.
"However." The Headmistress sighed heavily. "The replacement was killed."
Neville gaped. He hadn't read about that in the Daily Prophet at all. The death of a Hogwarts teacher surely would have made the front page. McGonagall must have been prepared for his surprise. Her response was grim.
"The official report is suicide, but most who investigated the case believe that he was tortured for information, and then forced to end his own life. The minister, however, didn't think it was prudent to reveal this information to the public, in case they panicked that You-Know-Who had returned."
The news was both scary and troubling. Suddenly Neville's glee at being asked to teach at Hogwarts disappeared. His own parents had been tortured to insanity shortly after the first defeat of Lord Voldemort. This case was so similar that the familiar lead-gut feeling filled him. His mother had passed away only three years ago. Her non-life in St. Mungos hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was finally over. Most people had believed that it was for the better, but Neville couldn't help but be devastated. His father, without her company, had died not long afterwards.
"That, of course, is bollocks. You-Know-Who is dead and gone for good. You and I know that. But there are still those who would attempt to resurrect him. Necromancy is a forbidden magic of course, but some of his still-free Death Eaters would try their hand at it. They obviously hoped that Robert Petry, who happened to be an expert in necromancy when he was younger, could tell them how to do it."
"Why...why are you telling me this?" Neville managed to say, his throat constricted. The similarity of Petry's situation to his parents, and the idea of someone using Necromancy to resurrect the most evil wizard of all time, whom Neville had witnessed the horrific death of, was enough to make his Gryffindorian nerves flee him.
"By being the replacement Herbology teacher, you and the ones that you love will be placed in the public eye. Since you were involved with You-Know-Who's defeat, this would be very dangerous, as you know. I...I hate to have to ask this of you Longbottom." McGonagall's voice was sympathetic for the first time the entire meeting. "But I need someone in this post who is not only knowledgeable about Herbology, but strong enough to help defend the castle if...if."
"If they attack again." Neville finished for her. "Yes, I understand." This news weighted heavily on him.
"I'm glad that you understand. If you accept, I would ask you to start tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!" he yelped involuntarily.
"Yes Longbottom, tomorrow." She said sternly, looking at him over her square spectacles. Neville composed himself and cleared his throat.
"What will you do...if I say no?" He met her gaze sadly.
"I shall have to search for someone else." She said curtly.
"Professor. I have to talk to my wife about this. She's...expecting. I don't know if..." The thought of putting Luna and their child in this situation was the only thing that made him hesitate. This danger thing, so easy when he was in his teen years, was now more complicated than he ever could have thought. Luna...she would know what to do. He needed her advice, her love, and her cheeriness. She'd help him to think clearly and they could decide together.
"I understand Longbottom. As I said, I would not be angry with you if you refuse. You have been through enough."
"We all have Professor."
"Yes." They met gazes for a moment, teacher and pupil no longer, but equals. Neville had always looked up to Professor McGonagall, tough as she was. Now, suddenly, he realized that she too admired him. He stood to leave.
"I'll let you know by Owl as soon as I do."
The Headmistress stood and held the door open for him. He shook her hand and stepped onto the stone steps.
"Longbottom...Neville." She said suddenly, "There is one more thing. If you accept, your family will be welcome to stay at the castle. And...I would like you to assist me as Head of Gryffindor, and eventually, be the Head yourself. It is time I appointed someone."
"Thank you." He said, once again surprised at her faith in him. His years at Hogwarts he had been doubtful that he was even in the right house...and now...
The spiral staircase was already spinning, and McGonagall slipped from his view. Suddenly he was back in the Hogwarts Corridor, students going about their business as if nothing was wrong. Perhaps they didn't know what gruesome fate their Herbology professor had suffered, or that this boyish-looking man in their midst would, next week, possibly replace him. Two Gryffindor girls gave him appraising look as they passed, and giggled. One of them whispered something to the other, and he heard the word "hot" in the tangle of young female gossip. Blushing a little, he strode down the corridor and out of the castle, his mood slightly lifted.
Author: _infinite_enemy
Pairing: Neville/Luna
Fandom: Harry Potter
Theme: #12 a good mood
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Note: This is not a very romantic piece, but it was most certainly inspired by theme #12 and does contain a kiss.
A Gimly Grand Opportunity
Neville Longbottom was 27 years old. He had graduated from Hogwarts and participated in the down taking of Lord Voldemort. He was tall and strong and a tiny bit handsome, in a boyish way. He was married to the wonderful wife Luna Lovegood whom he loved, they were expecting a baby in a few months, and now he was about to get the final piece in a perfect life: his dream job. He had been working as an Herbology Consultant for the past few years, but it wasn't what he really wanted to do. The Owl that he had received last week was met with the stunned realization that what he did want was possible--and he would do anything to get that job.
He straightened his professional black robes and cleared his throat. The stone Gargoyle before him was just as he had remembered it in his years at school. Children gave him unabashedly odd looks as they passed him in the hall. Some, including what looked like two Slytherin Fifth years in the second floor corridor were too busy snogging each other to even give him a glance. He ignored all of them as politely as he could, took a final deep breath, and stated the password. "Lion King." he said. The once lifeless gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a large stone door through which was a large stone circular staircase. He stepped onto it and was propelled upwards at a very fluid pace, the grinding of stones a pleasant rumble beneath his feet. When the stairs ceased their spinning, Neville knocked smartly on the door before him.
"Enter." Said a stern voice. Gulping reflexively, he entered the room. It was a very handsome room, and immaculately tidy. Behind the large wooden desk was a stern elderly woman, her hair in a tight bun and witch's hat perched atop her head. The skin of her face was well wrinkled but taut. She, like Neville's own grandmother, was a woman who inspired good behavior in children and adults alike.
"Headmistress McGonagall." Neville nodded politely. "I was delighted to receive your letter last week. I want you to know that this opportunity means quite a lot to me." His speech was eloquent--written by his wife and repeated like a mantra the entire walk up to the castle--but he was still huddled nervously by the door.
"Yes yes." The headmistress motioned impatiently to Neville to sit down. He tiptoed over to the chair across from her and sat in it as gently as possible.
"Longbottom, I apologize about the suddenness of this request, but it really is important. The students need a teacher, and I think that of my options, you are the most qualified." She spoke in a very businesslike manner.
"Erm…thank you."
"Professor Sprout retired last year, and we've had a new professor in her place since last year." Neville nodded. He had been aware of Sprout's failing Health. She had suffered greatly during the war against Lord Voldemort, and after only a few years back at Hogwarts, had to retire for health reasons. She wasn't much older than Professor McGonagall, but then, she wasn't quite as sturdy either. McGonagall, like her predecessor Dumbledore, seemed almost ageless.
"However." The Headmistress sighed heavily. "The replacement was killed."
Neville gaped. He hadn't read about that in the Daily Prophet at all. The death of a Hogwarts teacher surely would have made the front page. McGonagall must have been prepared for his surprise. Her response was grim.
"The official report is suicide, but most who investigated the case believe that he was tortured for information, and then forced to end his own life. The minister, however, didn't think it was prudent to reveal this information to the public, in case they panicked that You-Know-Who had returned."
The news was both scary and troubling. Suddenly Neville's glee at being asked to teach at Hogwarts disappeared. His own parents had been tortured to insanity shortly after the first defeat of Lord Voldemort. This case was so similar that the familiar lead-gut feeling filled him. His mother had passed away only three years ago. Her non-life in St. Mungos hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was finally over. Most people had believed that it was for the better, but Neville couldn't help but be devastated. His father, without her company, had died not long afterwards.
"That, of course, is bollocks. You-Know-Who is dead and gone for good. You and I know that. But there are still those who would attempt to resurrect him. Necromancy is a forbidden magic of course, but some of his still-free Death Eaters would try their hand at it. They obviously hoped that Robert Petry, who happened to be an expert in necromancy when he was younger, could tell them how to do it."
"Why...why are you telling me this?" Neville managed to say, his throat constricted. The similarity of Petry's situation to his parents, and the idea of someone using Necromancy to resurrect the most evil wizard of all time, whom Neville had witnessed the horrific death of, was enough to make his Gryffindorian nerves flee him.
"By being the replacement Herbology teacher, you and the ones that you love will be placed in the public eye. Since you were involved with You-Know-Who's defeat, this would be very dangerous, as you know. I...I hate to have to ask this of you Longbottom." McGonagall's voice was sympathetic for the first time the entire meeting. "But I need someone in this post who is not only knowledgeable about Herbology, but strong enough to help defend the castle if...if."
"If they attack again." Neville finished for her. "Yes, I understand." This news weighted heavily on him.
"I'm glad that you understand. If you accept, I would ask you to start tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!" he yelped involuntarily.
"Yes Longbottom, tomorrow." She said sternly, looking at him over her square spectacles. Neville composed himself and cleared his throat.
"What will you do...if I say no?" He met her gaze sadly.
"I shall have to search for someone else." She said curtly.
"Professor. I have to talk to my wife about this. She's...expecting. I don't know if..." The thought of putting Luna and their child in this situation was the only thing that made him hesitate. This danger thing, so easy when he was in his teen years, was now more complicated than he ever could have thought. Luna...she would know what to do. He needed her advice, her love, and her cheeriness. She'd help him to think clearly and they could decide together.
"I understand Longbottom. As I said, I would not be angry with you if you refuse. You have been through enough."
"We all have Professor."
"Yes." They met gazes for a moment, teacher and pupil no longer, but equals. Neville had always looked up to Professor McGonagall, tough as she was. Now, suddenly, he realized that she too admired him. He stood to leave.
"I'll let you know by Owl as soon as I do."
The Headmistress stood and held the door open for him. He shook her hand and stepped onto the stone steps.
"Longbottom...Neville." She said suddenly, "There is one more thing. If you accept, your family will be welcome to stay at the castle. And...I would like you to assist me as Head of Gryffindor, and eventually, be the Head yourself. It is time I appointed someone."
"Thank you." He said, once again surprised at her faith in him. His years at Hogwarts he had been doubtful that he was even in the right house...and now...
The spiral staircase was already spinning, and McGonagall slipped from his view. Suddenly he was back in the Hogwarts Corridor, students going about their business as if nothing was wrong. Perhaps they didn't know what gruesome fate their Herbology professor had suffered, or that this boyish-looking man in their midst would, next week, possibly replace him. Two Gryffindor girls gave him appraising look as they passed, and giggled. One of them whispered something to the other, and he heard the word "hot" in the tangle of young female gossip. Blushing a little, he strode down the corridor and out of the castle, his mood slightly lifted.