Fic: "Roots" (Part II), for neko_chelle

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Title: Roots
Author: twisting_path
Recipient's name: neko_chelle
Rating: PG
Character(s): Neville Longbottom,
Warnings: mild cussing, character deaths (already taken place: Augusta Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Harry Potter)
Summary: After Gran's death, Neville uncovers a mystery surrounding his parents' past.
Wordcount: 20,593 words

Roots (PART I)


~ ~two~ ~

Neville raised his hand in protest. "No, Mrs. Weasley, I can't, really." Another steak landed on his plate.

"Nonsense. You're skin and bones, Neville. Eat up. You need the protein. There's two more, and have another helping of mashed potatoes." She spooned a helping twice the size of the previous onto his plate. "Algie, you need to get this boy a housekeeper to watch after him. He's wasting away without his Gran to cook for him."

Great Uncle Algie laughed. "I think he'll probably enjoy eating fish and chips for a few weeks yet."

"Fish and chips?" Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "That's nonsense. You'll come to dinner here every night, Neville. Understand? We've plenty of food to share. Now eat."

He groaned even as he obediently picked up his fork.

George leaned over to him. "Just pass out. That's the only way she'll give it up." Then he pretended to fall back into his chair, eyes closed. He snored.

Mrs. Weasley popped her son on the shoulder, making him yelp. "No sleeping at the table."

"Apologize to your mother, son. Else she'll have you doing the dishes," Mr. Weasley said, his voice booming. Great Uncle Algie leaned back in his chair, clearly amused.

"Oh no!" George yelled. The others at the table laughed as George leaped up and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Love you, mum!"

Ron whispered to Neville, "Put your steak on his plate!"

Neville hesitated, but a glance at Ginny and Hermione, seeing their eager nods, gave him the courage to slide the steak onto George's plate. George plunked down in his chair and stared at it.

"Hey," George said. "What the devil--" He tossed the steak back at Neville, but missed the plate, sending it to the floor.

"George!" Hermione said in mock horror.

"George!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed very much in horror.

Within seconds, Ginny's greyhound, Stretch, had pounced and attacked the steak.

"Now look what you've done!" Mrs. Weasley cried, smacking her son again. But it was all in fun, Neville realized as she caught his eye. He realized then even Ron was laughing--Mrs. Weasley had realized it too. She winked at Neville, looking very happy. But thankfully she didn't put another steak on his plate.

Beneath the table, Stretch belched.

Ginny laughed, standing and picking up her plate. "Well, I'll do the dishes, Mum."

Hermione leaped to her feet. "You'll do no such thing. I'll do them."

"Both of you sit down," Mr. Weasley ordered. "George will do the dishes."

"But dad--" George whined.

"I'll help." Everyone turned to face Ron. "Wheel me in there, George. I can do it."

Quickly recovering, George leaped to his feet again. "Right oh, baby bro. Everyone bring their dishes and put this boy to work!" He grabbed the back of Ron's wheelchair and with a yell, zoomed his brother toward the kitchen.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Ginny muttered good naturedly. This time no one stopped her as she made a stack of plates to carry into the kitchen. She had to hold them almost at arm's length, Neville noted, her belly had grown so big. He still couldn't believe she was going to have a baby soon. And that she wanted him to help her. She bumped playfully into his chair. "Eat those up then bring your plate."

Once they were gone, Mr. Weasley stood. "All right then, I'm all for a bit of telly tonight in…" he grinned broadly and clapped his hands in delight, "the media room. Algie? Care to join us?"

"Would rather enjoy that. A movie over scotch sounds like the perfect capper to this long day."

"Excellent. Dear? Molly?"

Loud laughter erupted from the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was still staring at the kitchen door. Her eyes were glassy, a small "oh" escaped her. Mr. Weasley moved to his wife, bent down and kissed the top of her head as he squeezed her shoulders. "They'll be all right. Leave them be."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know Molly. I know. Come now, Hermione's parents sent us another one of those DVD things you enjoy so much! Join us, Hermione?"

She shook her head. "I'll help Ginny." She too stood and picked up several empty dishes. Within seconds, Neville found himself alone. Except of course for the contented dog at his feet.

Stabbing at his plate, Neville realized he simply could not eat another thing. He stood, picked up his plate to carry it into the kitchen, managing a couple of glasses as well. He followed the others, smiling to himself at the bawdy singing now coming from behind the door, though he felt a twinge of sadness that it was unaccompanied by Fred. Entering the room, he saw Ron sitting on a stool at the sink, Hermione's arms wrapped around him as he directed the pot scrubber to do its thing. Neville figured she was lending herself for him to lean against, but Ron certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. Ginny disappeared again with a smile at him to get more of the dishes, while George dried each dish and put it up. There was a dishwasher in the Weasley's new house, but so far he didn't think anyone had tried it, even though Hermione had insisted it wouldn't blow up like the microwave oven had the first time.

He set the plates down, then not knowing what to do with himself trailed after Ginny. He found her bent over the table, her head bowed. Stretch stood guard beside her, clearly worried too. "Ginny?" he said, alarmed. "Do you want me to get your mother? What's wrong?"

She stood, waving her hand. "No, no, I'm fine." She smiled wanly at him, then patted Stretch. She looked really pale. "He kicked me, really hard. It just surprised me."

He stood next to her, feeling awkward. He patted her shoulder, feeling terribly awkward. "A fighter, like Harry." She looked away at that and he about kicked himself. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She took a deep breath then rubbed her back. "Can you rub me right there? It still hurts." He hesitated, his face heating. She laughed. "You won't hurt me. I promise. You are my coach, Neville. Got to get used to touching me."

"I'll have to touch you?" he said, his voice cracking.

She grabbed for his hand, shaking her head as she plunked his hand on her back. "There. And of course you will. You'll do fine." He realized he wasn't close enough so he edged forward. She put her hands back on the table, bracing herself. "Harder," she said, and he did it harder, rubbing the sore spot until she sighed. "There. Perfect. A little to the left."

"My, my, what's going on here?" George boomed behind them. Neville started to jump back but Ginny grabbed him.

"Don't stop," she warned.

George grinned as he grabbed up the rest of the dinner dishes.
"Thought I was interrupting something there." He winked at Neville.

"No!" Neville said. "She was just hurting, she asked me to--"

"It's all right, Nev! Relax! You're part of the family now. You can rub my sister anytime."

George strode back to the kitchen whistling, leaving them alone. Neville paused, and Ginny stood. She looked after her brother, shaking her head. "Incorrigible." But she was smiling. She looked up at him. "He's right, you know. I think you've been firmly adopted." She touched his shoulder. "Mum's almost done with your sweater." She winced. "I think I need to sit down."

Unsure what to do, he followed after her, as did Stretch. He'd done really well all evening, feeling relaxed and comfortable with her family, but her words bounced in his mind. Part of the family. They really were treating him as such. Why, he really didn't get it, though he knew the Weasleys often picked up strays. They had Harry, every summer. How Neville had envied Harry coming to the Weasleys every summer, whilst his own summers were spent sat around Gran's house, reading quietly so as to not disturb Gran and her friends, or doing chores between visits to his parents. Every day had dragged endlessly, each morning filled him with dread of what that day would bring.

Those days were over now, of course, and yet there wasn't a single time he could look back on during the years with his Gran that he could recall fondly except for those few times she'd take him to visit gardens or museums. All his other good memories, were tied up with Hogwarts, or the rare occasions he was allowed to visit Great Uncle Algie.

A miserable life for a boy.

Ginny curled up on the couch, grabbed a blanket and covering herself with it. Stretch jumped up on the couch and true to her name, stretched out the rest of its length. Neville sat in the chair next to the couch. Ginny looked at him, chin propped on hand. "That freaks you out doesn't it."

He stared at his hands. "It does a little. You're all so nice to me." He looked up at her. "You have an amazing family. You're so lucky to have so many care about you."

She sighed, settling back on the couch with a slight wince. He jolted but she waved him away. "Don't worry, I just slept badly last night, I think. I have to get up about twenty times a night. The family's great, yeah, but it can be a pain, too. Someone's always watching me," she said, lowering her voice. "I can't move five feet without the hovering. I want to go for a walk, Mum insists on going. I want to go shopping, she makes George take me. The other day, I tried to sneak out of the house to go to a muggle restaurant that Hermione told me about. I wanted to get a chocolate shake from there. They put sprinkles on them." She frowned. "I got half-way there before Dad apparated next to me, and said I'd worried Mum sick. She'd been asleep and I'd only just left!" She sighed. "I just want to be alone for awhile. I never get that, except at night in my room. The thought of staying here after the baby is born makes me sick."

He was stunned. Sick? He never would've thought she would feel like that. "They just care about what happens to you. And since Harry isn't here they probably think they have to do what he can't. Be there for you."

"He wouldn't have been anyway," she muttered. But before he could ask her what she meant, she waved her hand in dismissal. "Anyway. Tell me how it went with your mum? How is she?"

He was relieved at the change in subject, though he remained puzzled by what she said. She'd reacted weirdly to mention of Harry ever since he'd died, though he wondered if he was the only one who'd noticed. "She's a little sick. I went to see her in her room." He told her then what had happened earlier that day. By the time he was done, she was sitting up, her expression one of anger and something he could only think of as eager.

"Oh my gosh! I can't believe that your Gran actually gave instructions to keep you from your mum! What did she think, that she'd live forever? Or that your mum would die first?"

"I don't know. I think that if Gran had not died so quickly she would've changed that." But with her smirk, he had to admit he didn't think it likely. "The room though. It was so amazing. And after what Draco told me--"

"What did Draco say? When?" she demanded. Her eyes widened briefly, he hesitated but not because he didn't want to tell her, but because of the odd expression on her face. Nothing like Hermione's had been, facing Draco at the funeral. In fact, opposite.

"He, um, spoke to me after the funeral. Told me that his mother had mentioned something about my parents' estate."

She nodded, tapping her finger to her chin, her eyes distant. "Yes. Of course."

"What?" he said, feeling rather clueless.

She stood. "Where's the folder?"

"I left it at home."

"Did you look at it yet?"

"No. Not yet--"

She grabbed his hand. "We've got to look in that right away. And we've got to talk to Draco."

"But he told me everything he knew, he said."

She smiled wryly at him. "Oh, I imagine he knows more. He probably got cheesed off at you, so said he didn't know anything else. I'll go with you to talk to him."

"You sure you're feeling--"

"Neville," she snapped. "Don't you start, too." She sighed. "I suppose I should tell mum else she'll send the entire neighbourhood out to find me. I'll be back."

Ginny headed for her parents bedroom. Neville picked up his jacket, pulled it on and wandered back to the kitchen. He peeked in. He was instantly glad he didn't make any noise--George had disappeared, the kitchen sparkled, and Hermione was standing in front of Ron who still sat on the stool. His arms were around her waist, and her arms draped over his shoulders. They were kissing--downright snogging. Embarrassment rushed through him, and a new emotion--envy. Though he knew from Ginny that Ron's recovery had months to go, and he could barely stand up on his own just yet, Hermione loved him, had stuck by him without hesitation. They broke apart and the look in Ron's eyes as he looked up at Hermione made Neville look away.

"Oh Neville, come on in," Ron said. "We were just having a…discussion."

"Is that what you call this now?" Hermione kissed him again, and they quickly lost themselves to their 'discussion' again.

Neville felt his face heat. "Um, sorry. Didn't meant to interrupt. I'm, uh-- Going now."

Hermione broke from Ron and smiled rather bemusedly at Neville.
"You're leaving?"

He nodded. "Yes. Going home to look through some things of Gran's. Ginny's going with me."

"Good," Ron said. "She's been wigging out lately, trapped here with mum hanging over her." He grimaced. "I can relate to that."

"I'm not hovering," Hermione said, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "Do I?"

Ron's expression made Neville grin. "Um, no of course not, dear." He kissed her. Neville dropped his gaze. "Keep an eye on her though, Neville. She's been complaining of a back ache lately."

"I know, I rubbed it for her." He winced.

At that, Hermione's eyes widened, and Ron grinned. "Hey now, you flirting with my sister?"

"No!" he nearly shouted. "No, it wasn't like that at all. Honest." Besides, he had a crush on someone else entirely. "She said she wasn't sleeping well."

Hermione nodded, looked down at Ron. "I heard her getting up last night about three times."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask their thoughts on Ginny's reaction to the mentions of Harry, but decided against it. After all, they'd been Harry's best mates, whereas he'd hung onto the fringes. And for some reason he felt Ginny didn't want it mentioned. Else they would've known already, right? He agreed with himself on that one.

Ginny came in then. "Ready?"

"I should say goodbye to your mum, too," Neville said.

"She said not to worry, just get me home at a reasonable hour, no later than midnight." She rolled her eyes. "I'm nineteen years old, not nine. What does she think I'm going to do, get knocked up or something?"

Ron burst out laughing. Neville knew his face blazed. "Ginny, you'd horrify mum," Ron said, still laughing.

She grinned wickedly. "I already do. Come on Neville, get me out of here for a little while. Please?"

~ ~three~ ~

Ginny sat next to Neville at his Gran's parlor room table. Stretch lay behind them, her body twitching in doggie dreams--no doubt brought on in vivid detail by the steak she'd wolfed down. Ginny frowned in concentration as she tried to read the Healer's garbled handwriting. She slapped it down in disgust. "These are all well and good, Neville, but I can only understand every fifth word. What is it with Healers, anyway?"

"Hermione told me once that muggle doctors are just as bad. Even dentists. Her parents' have horrific handwriting."

"Maybe we can ask them to decipher these. Or maybe get your friend Katherine to do it for us."

Neville sighed. He was just as frustrated as Ginny, but no way would he invite Katherine here. He'd be too embarrassed. "I can read some of it. It says…" He bent over the red--red of all colours!--ink and frowned. "Subject reacts positively to photographs of family members. Grows agitated, vocalizing loudly and flapping hands." He stopped, feeling sick.

Ginny put her hand on his arm. "I know it must be hard to read this, but it's important. What photographs, for instance? What about her family? Did you ever meet them?"

He shook his head. "I--I don't know. She didn't have any family, supposedly."

"But there were pictures of them. They were your family, too. You deserve to have them."

"They're not in there," he said, looking at the boxes spread out on his Gran's cabbage rose rug. "I've looked through all those."

Ginny stood and walked over to the boxes, carefully kneeling. "Mind if I look?"

"No, of course not." And he didn't. He really liked Ginny. Of all the Weasleys, she really was the one who made him feel most comfortable.

"Keep reading."

He did so, flipping through the pages, occasionally calling out phrases to Ginny as she sorted through the boxes. They kept their examination going for about an hour, when Ginny suddenly groaned, grabbing her back. Neville sprang to his feet, and helped her stand. "You all right?"

She nodded, brushing her hair back from her face. "Just tired." She looked down at the boxes in disgust. "Your Gran was terribly meticulous. There's not a thing interesting in there. No skeletons in her closet."

"Not that I mind," Neville said. He walked back to the table and picked up the sheet of paper he'd been reading. "I think I found the orders to keep me away."

"Oh really," Ginny said, peering at the paper. She shook her head. "You can read that?"

"It's getting easier. Subject's guardian request no visitors be permitted to visit subject on any occasion. All mail must be approved by guardian. Neville Longbottom not to be allowed solo visitation, nor permitted into subject's room. Bloody hell," Neville said.

"What's that other writing?"

It was different handwriting--this a little neater, more delicate. Like a woman's handwriting, perhaps, though Neville couldn’t remember his mum ever having a woman healer. "This is interesting. It is a statement of disagreement. This healer…" He peered at the signature. "Persephone Heldworn, interim healer, believes that Mrs. Longbottom - well at least she uses my mother's name - would benefit from regular communication with her son and other visitors, that she is stable enough to be allowed for short visits home." He stopped. Could not go on. What was written below was almost unbelievable. A return to the previous handwriting. "Subject is not permitted visitors without my permission." The florid, angry signature that followed could not be read, but Neville had no doubt who it belonged to. Alistair Spriggs.

"I think I hate that man," Ginny said.

Neville carefully put the paper back in the folder, and closed it. He'd seen enough. He knew enough. Denied--both he and his mother had been denied each other, their lives carefully orchestrated by the very woman who was supposed to take care of them both. "Ginny, do you mind if I take a short walk for a minute?" He had to get out of the house. To think.

"Of course not. I'll lay down on your divan, if you don't mind."

"It's getting late. Do you want to go home now?"

She shook her head. "No. Will you walk Stretch for me?"

"Sure."

"Her lead is on the floor there. I'd pick it up but I'm afraid I'd fall over."

He scooped up the lead--immediately Stretch leaped to her paws, eager for her walkies. He clipped it onto her collar, which wasn't easy given how much she wiggled. He didn't think greyhounds wiggled but this one certainly did.

Ginny lay on the divan. He covered her with a blanket. She closed her eyes but smiled. "Don't let her take off with you. She'll dislocate your shoulder."

"I'll be careful."

Letting Stretch lead the way, he headed for the front of the house and outside. Night had fallen hard and cool, the stars dull from the city lights. As he and Stretch began their walk, his temper eased. All his life, he'd been careful not to show his emotions overly much lest Gran chastise him. He realized as he picked up his pace--the dog definitely moved fast, or had seen something of interest to her--that he no longer had to do that. If he was angry, he could shout at the world. If he wanted to rant, he could rant. If he didn't want to do something, he didn't have to.

And if there was something he wanted to do, he had every right to do it.

By the time Stretch had successfully completed her business, and he returned to the house to see if Ginny didn't want to go home after all and they'd see Draco in the morning, his head had cleared, and he knew exactly what must be done. But as he and Stretch entered the house, he saw Ginny wrapped up in the blanket, sound asleep. He unclipped Stretch's lead and the dog immediately lay at her mistress's side on the floor. He watched Ginny for a moment, realizing that he would not be disturbing her. She needed sleep. Hoping her parents wouldn't fret he turned the light off, patted Stretch once more, and left them both to their dreams.

~ ~four~ ~

"Well, I guess they didn't send out a search party," Ginny said the next morning. She yawned as she shuffled into the kitchen. "What time is it?"

"It's nine, half past," Neville said. He'd been up for some time, taken Stretch out, showered and had started breakfast. "Hungry?"

She stared at the eggs cooking in the pan, the toast on a plate, and nodded. "Famished." She sat at the table. "See, you can cook. Not so much the helpless bachelor."

"Guess not," he agreed. "I've biscuits in the oven, too."

She giggled. "So do I." At sight of his reddened face she laughed.
"You're so easy to embarrass, Neville. Why did you make biscuits too?"

"Because I never had. How'd you sleep?"

"Wonderfully! I think I only got up once!" She smiled at him.

He slid a rasher of bacon onto a plate and set it in front of her, then served her the eggs and toast. It didn't feel that strange at all, he realized, taking care of her. Ginny really was like a sister to him, after all. It was nice to have someone so cheerful around in the morning, too. "I slept pretty well, too. I walked Stretch already."

"Good." She took a bite of her toast, closing her eyes. "Butter. Mmm. Mum won't let me have butter."

"Is it bad?" he asked worriedly. The buzzer beeped and he took out the biscuits, putting two on her plate and two on his own.

"No more than bacon." She helped herself to a slice, then liberally spread strawberry jam on her toast. "I'd really like a shower before we go see Draco but I have no wish to go home." She sighed. "I guess it would be best. I just don't want to endure the questions."

"What questions?" he asked, sitting across from her. He tucked into his own breakfast, but nearly choked on his bacon when she said, "Questions about you and me."

"What?" he squeaked out over the bacon lodged in his throat.

"I am sure that George has assured the parents by now that you and I have become an item and therefore they shouldn't worry that I didn't come home last night. Frankly, that doesn't upset me overly much that they think that." She winced. "Sorry. Would be nice if I asked how you felt about that."

"I, uh--"

"You're not seeing anyone, are you?"

He thought of Katherine. Felt his face heating. "No."

"But there is someone."

"Not really."

She grinned. "Who is she? What is her name?" Her face lit up. "I know! The girl who helped you with the file!"

"Uh--"

"Brilliant! You simply must get her to read that file for you then." She sighed dreamily, looking for a moment like the teenager she should've been. "Katherine, right? I hope she didn't get in trouble for helping you."

"I'll never tell. Besides, I'm taking Mum out of there."

Ginny looked at him in surprise, then nodded, then frowned as she looked around the kitchen. It was avocado green, a truly nauseating colour. His Gran loved avocado green. And cabbage roses. They were represented on every rug in the house, every spread, every piece of furniture. Only his room had escaped, and then only thanks to Great Uncle Algie.

"Not here though I hope."

"No," he said. "That's what I'm hoping Draco will help me with." He felt his ire rising. "I suppose I'll have to pay him to talk. He was a real bastard yesterday."

"And you weren't?"

He looked at her in surprise over his toast, then set it down. And sighed. "All right, just a little. I guess I'll never understand why Harry trusted him."

For a moment, her eyes narrowed as she glared at her bacon, but then she made a huffing sound, looking up at him as she bit a piece off. Waving the rest she said, "But he did trust him, Neville. And Draco proved himself over and over again. No one seems to remember how he sacrificed his own father for the cause, how he saved so many as a result. Including Harry, including me. If he hadn't shown up when he did, you and I wouldn't be sitting here," she finished, thumping her other hand down on the table.

"Um, how do you mean?" he said, a little disarmed by her vehemence.

"Lucius knew about our hideaway, and Draco realized it. Learned that his father fully intended to surround us with Death Eaters that very night. I don't think you were there, actually."

"Um, no, I was with Ron and Hermione."

She nodded. "Draco left his father, and came and talked to Harry. They set up a plan to capture Lucius, but Draco insisted that he could not be captured, that his father had to die." She looked pointedly at him. "Can you imagine that? Acknowledging that the only way to stop your own father was to kill him? Harry said he would do it, but Draco said no." Her voice lowered, and she looked at the wooden fork and spoon hanging on the kitchen wall. He'd knocked that fork off once, breaking one tine. Gran had been furious with him.

"He and Harry and I stayed up together that night, planning what to do. The others were exhausted, had fallen asleep long before. Harry I could tell wasn't too happy about Draco being there, but the more Draco told him what he knew, the more Harry and I both realized just what Draco had done. Given us the key to turning the tide in our favor.

"The next morning we got up well before dawn. I don't really remember if I slept at all but I remember how cold it was, frost touching everything." She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. Neville didn't dare interrupt her. "We got everyone else up, and had them put shapes into their sleeping rolls, then had them sneak out the back and away as far as they could before apparating. Draco wanted me to go, but I stayed." Her face clouded, but she shook herself.

"They came just as dawn broke. We were up in the trees of all things. I had Harry's invisibility cloak. He insisted. He and Draco had dressed all in dark clothes, and rubbed dirt on their faces, and in Draco's hair." She smiled. "He looked, funny black headed like Harry. If he'd had glasses, they could've passed for brothers, they were both such messes. Then they waited, laying low in dips in the ground.

"The Death Eaters arrived. There were four of them, including Draco's father. I'll never forget Harry leaping to his feet, attacking the two Death Eaters near him. I killed the third. She walked right below the tree I was in. She never saw it coming." She swallowed, closing her eyes. Neville held his breath. When Ginny spoke again, her voice shook. "Then Draco appeared behind his father. Lucius whirled around, his wand pointed at Draco. At first he didn't realize who he was suddenly locked in battle with. I didn't know what to do. Lucius was so strong. He could've killed Draco just as easily as Draco killed him. So, I put the invisibility cloak on, got out of the tree and snuck behind Lucius, grabbed his hair and pulled as hard as I could. I could've killed him, but the look in Draco's eyes--" She shook her head, taking a deep breath. She looked at Neville then. "Sorry."

"It's okay. My healers wanted me to talk about what happened when Harry died, they say it helps, but--" He shrugged. "It's hard. Does it help?"

She smiled shakily. "Actually it does. You're a good listener, Neville."

His face heated at the compliment. "Thanks."

"Draco killed Lucius. He fell on top of me. I remember screaming, thought for sure I would die, but Draco dragged his father off me, held me until I stopped shaking. It took forever."

Draco, not Harry.

"Where was Harry?" he asked.

"I-- I don't remember much. He went to find the others, bring them back so they could get rid of the bodies." She looked down at her plate, poked her eggs. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can eat these now."

"That's okay. I can't either." He pushed his eggs away. "Let's go to your parents' then go see Draco. Having you with me I think he'll help."

"He'll help if you ask him, Neville. He's a good person. Caught in his role just as you and Harry were."

He couldn't argue much with her on that point.

~ ~five~ ~

Neville shook his head in bemusement at Ginny. Rather than go to her parents' house and incur whatever wrath or whatever they would dish out, she insisted on taking a shower and changing into a lavender dress and sweater of Gran's. When she came out of the bedroom to find him sorting once more through the boxes of odds and ends that catalogued his grandmother's life, he thought she looked rather nice. But the comment died on his lips as he realized she held something in her hand.

"I found this in her closet," she said, her voice hushed as if they were in the library at Hogwart's. Not that Hogwart's had a library any longer. It along with most of the school had been all but destroyed. She handed him a large grey envelope.

He stood, taking it from her. She sat on the couch, clasping her hands at her knees, watching him. Puzzled, he glanced at her, back to the envelope.

"Where was it?"

"In her closet. I was looking through it for something suitable, and noticed this. It was taped to the back wall, Neville."

Sure enough, the ends showed where she'd pulled the folder off the wall. He joined her on the couch. She shifted so she could see.

"I'm almost afraid to open it."

"You don't have to be afraid." She took out her wand, making him smile. She grinned back at him. "I'm ready."

He opened the envelope. He slid the contents out onto his lap. "Oh."

"The photographs!" Ginny said, inching closer to him.

He picked them up, and stared at the first in wonder. It was the picture he thought he'd never see again, of himself as a baby, only a few days old, laying on his father's chest. They were both fast asleep, the figures laying so still that he could barely see any movement at all. Just as he'd remembered. "She hid this from me."

"It's beautiful," Ginny said. She took it from him and stared at it with such longing he was jolted away from the direction his thoughts had started to take. He wondered if she was realizing at that moment that Harry would never hold his own child. Her eyes shimmered, but she wiped the tears away, giving it back. "Beautiful. You should frame it."

"It once was." He looked at the next one. It was his mother, an official portrait type of picture. The figure nodded once at him then resumed her serious, authoritative pose.

"She looks rather commanding, doesn't she?"

"She was back then. She was a very strong woman, and lots of people looked up to her. From what I hear," he said, thinking of her now. Are you my friend?

The other pictures were more casual--pictures of his mother and father in a vehicle like the one Harry and Ron had driven to Hogwart's second year, his mother in a bathing suit on the beach. His father in a curious suit that looked like knickers and a triangle-patterned sweater, holding a golf club. Seamus played golf in the summers, he'd once told Neville. Neville was sure he could never coordinate himself enough to swing that thing and hit a ball square on. He'd no doubt make a fool of himself. And now he learned that his father played. He hadn't known.

They sorted through the rest of the pictures, Ginny grinning. But toward the bottom of the stack, something caught his eye. He pulled out that photograph, looking at her in surprise. "The house!"

"It is?" she said, taking it from him. "Wow, Neville it is beautiful. And there's your mum on the porch."

"I'm not in that one though. The other one, she's pregnant with me. She's huge."

She laughed. "Like me?"

He wasn't going there. "Look on the back."

She turned it over. Someone had written in a precise hand Talybont-on-usk. "I guess it's time to go visit Draco."

"I don't know where he lives though."

She stood, looked down at him, her eyes hardening. "I do."

~ ~six~ ~

"All right, this is it," Ginny said. "That's Draco's home," she said, pointing down the lane.

Neville frowned as they came to the cottage's front gate. Located just outside of Surrey, Draco's home was nothing like Neville thought it would be. Two storeys with a bright blue door, the house's grounds held the promise of a cheery garden once spring thawed the snow and ice covering it now. Smoke billowed out of the stone house's chimney, evidence of a warm and welcome fire inside. Behind them stretched a snow-filled field was edged by a few leafless trees. There were neighbours, but they were quite in the distance, with the village easily seen a couple of kilometers away. It was… "Nice. Not what I expected."

She grinned. "I know. Quaint, isn't it? Come on."

She walked through the gate. Neville followed, his curiosity spiking again over Ginny's behavior. She knew this place. Had known how to find Draco--in the heart of a muggle community no less--had know just where to apparate so they would not be seen. And what was most intriguing was Stretch. The greyhound bounded toward the door and started to bark.

They both had been here before. "Ginny," he said, but she turned her head and shook it. She stopped a few feet from the door. He stopped halfway up the walk.

This was very strange.

The door flung open. "Stretch?" Draco Malfoy looked down at the dog in surprise, then jerked his head up and saw Ginny. His eyes widened, he took a step out, one hand trying to stop the dog who leapt past him inside. Then his face hardened. Neville swore he saw Ginny flinch. "What are you doing here, Ginny," he stated flatly, pulling back. Then he saw Neville. And smirked. "Oh. I see. Escort?"

Ginny lifted her chin and said, "Yes. Neville is here to see you."

"And what about you?" He glared at her.

"You told him you wanted to help. If that's not the case, please get Stretch and we'll go."

"Did I say I wouldn't help him? I asked what you were doing here."

Neville had no idea what was going on, but he needed to do something before wands were drawn. Not that even a Malfoy would draw a wand on a pregnant witch. He hoped. He stepped in front of Ginny. "I asked her to come with me." Not knowing what else to do, he pulled out the picture and held it out to Draco. "Do you know this place?"

With a lingering, scornful gaze at Ginny, Draco took the picture and looked at it. "Your parents' house?"

"Yes. Look on the back."

"Talybont-on-usk." He handed it back. "That's in Wales."

"I know. I was just wondering if you knew anything else." His breath came out in a puffy cloud. "It's freezing out here. Might we come inside?"

"Neville Longbottom, daring to set foot in the snake pit?"

"I don't think you're so tough, Malfoy. At least, not like you try to make me think." He swallowed, rather amazed at his gumption. Wondering where it came from. And, deciding he liked it. "I just want to know what you know, and then we'll leave."

Draco stared at him for a moment, then turned on his heel. "Fine. Come on in then," he said over his shoulder as he limped inside.

Motioning for Ginny to go ahead of him they walked inside. Neville closed the door behind him, stomping the snow off his feet. Ginny walked over to the fire that roared as promised in the fireplace. Draco sighed and handed her a blanket, which she took. Stretch had plopped herself down in front of the fire, once more living up to her name. Neville sat on a small divan as Draco indicated, and then the wizard pulled up another chair and sat on it. Stretch got up at that and wiggled over to Draco, who grabbed her head between his hands and bent and kissed her forehead, making the dog whine.

Odd.

"Good dog, Stretch. Miss me?"

Odder and odder still.

"What did you keep from Neville?" Ginny suddenly said. She looked like she wanted to drag Stretch away, but instead she scowled at her dog.

"Who said I kept anything from him?"

"Because you always keep something, Draco."

He smiled. Neville shifted, once again feeling left out of the conversation. "Perhaps I did. What's in it for me, Ginny?"

"The truth," she stated flatly.

"The truth," Draco repeated. "Why should I believe you." His voice was soft, dangerous. Neville wondered if he'd need his wand after all.

"Because I'm tired, I'm pregnant, I'm having contractions--"

"WHAT?" Neville said, bolting upright.

Ginny waved him away. "Have been for a week now. No big deal. I think."

Draco stood. "No big deal? You're about to have Potter's baby, and it's no big deal?" He laughed. "Bloody hell it's no big deal." Ginny's nose flared. "Fine." He pulled his wand out--Neville almost reached for his--but Draco used it to snap open a drawer in the desk in the entranceway. An envelope winged its way to Neville and fell in his lap.

Another envelope. So many secrets contained in envelopes--

Draco sat, draping himself casually over the chair and watched him.
"Found it in my mum's things she'd recovered from our home. There wasn't much, but that survived."

Feeling a sickening curl of fear and anger in his stomach, he opened the envelope, noting once it had been sealed by wax, and pulled out the folded paper inside. He pulled the paper apart, realizing it was a map.

"Your Talybont-on-usk is that red mark. Think you might want to go visit sometime."

Neville nodded, too stunned by what he held in his hands to respond more than that. It was a map, yes, but more than a map. There were notes on it, scrawlings made by an angry, feminine hand. His parents' name, an address, the name of a spell that he didn't recognize.

"Operio?"

Draco snorted. "You really didn't pay attention in class did you?"

"I did so," Neville said, but he didn't feel like arguing. "But I don’t remember this."

"Reveal," Ginny said. She took a deep breath. "Your parents hid their home. No one knows where it is, except your Gran did of course."

"My mother knows," Draco said.

Neville stared at Draco, then at Ginny. He stood, feeling a surge of anger and disbelief racing through him. "How? How did she? What is this map?"

Draco held up his hand. Neville fumed, but quieted. "After I found this, I paid a little visit to my mother to ask her that very thing. First though, I asked her point blank what she'd meant by what I'd overheard. She was not thrilled I asked about her gossiping let me tell you, but then admitted you'd figure it on your own now that your grandmother wasn't around to make sure you didn't."

"What did she mean by that?" Neville demanded. "Figure out what?"

"Stop being so cryptic, Draco. Just tell him," Ginny said, glaring at him.

Draco snorted. "Your Gran, at least according to my mother, if you choose to believe her, somehow purposely kept you forgetful. Can't asked questions about what you can't remember, correct?"

"Oh come on, Draco, you aren't serious," Ginny said.

Neville shook his head. "That's ridiculous. I'm just naturally forgetful."

"Are you? Been lately? Since she died?"

Neville paused. "No."

"Point made."

But Neville shook his head. "I don’t believe it. I can't. No." If he did believe Draco, that would mean--

He couldn't believe his Gran would do that to him. She'd done a lot to keep things from him, but that? Make him… stupid… on purpose? Flashes of all the humiliating moments in his life flipped through his mind. The horrifying mistakes he made in Snape's class, the points taken away from Gryffindor because he couldn't remember the simplest spells. The torment he'd endured by the very man before him now. Caused on purpose by his Gran? To what end? Why?

"No," he said again. "I refuse to believe it."

Draco shrugged. "Believe what you must."

"What else did she say," Ginny said.

"Not much else. Except she gave me the same name on the back of the photograph. And, told me Bellatrix knows."

"What do you mean by Bellatrix knows?" Neville demanded.

"She lives there, Neville. I went there last night, after I left my mother. I didn't get too close, but close enough. She's used it as her hiding place for years, I suspect."

"Oh Neville," Ginny whispered, staring up at him. "That can't--" She shook her head. "No way."

"Bellatrix is living in my mum's house," he repeated. His whole body went numb.

"Apparently so. I'm not sure for how long, possibly just recently, but it seems your Gran was aware of the possibility at least. She's definitely there now along with a few of her closest Death Eater friends and a resident giant or two besides."

Ginny leaned forward. "Neville. The picture. The picture sent to your mum. What if Bellatrix sent it? Maybe that's how your Gran came to realize that Bellatrix knew where it was? How long ago was that? Ten years ago? You were ten, eleven? The timing makes sense."

"Your mum has a picture of the house?" Draco said.

Neville nodded, still stunned by what Draco had told them, and Ginny's reasoning. It made complete sense. "In her room at St. Mungo's. Gran would never let me go in there."

No matter the timing though, Bellatrix was in his mum's house now. Bellatrix, the woman who had stolen his parents' lives, and ruined his own, living in his mother's house. And, Gran had known, and done nothing about it.

"She never wanted you to see proof of her deception." Draco stood.

"She never wanted me to see the other pictures, either," he said. He stood and walked over to the fireplace, placing his hands on the mantle, staring into the flame. "She never wanted me to see. She never wanted me to know anything about my parents' lives. She kept it all from me!"

He whirled on them both, his breath coming in short bursts. "She lied to me, all these years! She knew where Bellatrix was!" He almost shouted the last words at Draco. He wanted to punch the man, punch anything. Gran had lied to him, kept everything-- He wanted to rage, tear down, he wanted to--

His anger suddenly fled. Ginny had stood, moving closer to Draco, her face compassionate, as was… Draco's.

"She kept it from me to protect me," he whispered.

Ginny nodded, then reached out to touch his arm. He didn't flinch--he was suddenly too drained to fight the anger anymore. He sat.

"That's why I didn't push it yesterday," Draco said, sitting down again. "I realized I had bad timing." He snorted softly. "As usual. You were too angry still to learn what I suspected. I was afraid you'd go off and do something half-cocked and get yourself killed. That would be stupid at this point, don't you think? Bellatrix is almost as powerful as Voldemort was."

"Why is she still hiding then?" Ginny said.

Draco shrugged. "Waiting. Biding her time. It's only been a few months since Voldemort was destroyed, and the other Death Eaters--" He paused at that. "Since they were all killed." Ginny put her hand on this shoulder and looked up at him. Draco looked away, but did not draw away. The anger seemed to have left them, too, or temporarily made them forget they were in some sort of argument.

Neville took a deep breath. "I'm tired of fighting. I don't want to do it anymore." He snorted. "Some hero, huh. What should I do though?"

Ginny said, "We take this to my father, that's what. He'll be sure the information gets in the right hands." She winced. "Besides, I think you'll be busy, Neville."

He frowned. "Doing what?"

She smiled wanly. "Helping me have my baby?"

"W-what?" Neville sputtered.

"Yeah--I don't feel too well."

"Brilliant," Draco said grimly, getting to his feet. "Sit down, woman."

"Watch it, I can still kick your-- Ouch!" Ginny sat.

Neville leaped to his feet as it finally dawned on him what Ginny was saying. "Oh my gosh. Oh no, bloody hell, what do we do? Boil water? I don't know what to do!" Neville ran into the kitchen, realizing he truly didn't know what he was doing, and headed back to the others. And… stopped. Stared.

And understood.

Draco knelt beside Ginny, his hand on her belly. Her hand covered his. She murmured something to him and nodded. Neville gulped as an incredible look of wonder and disbelief crossed Draco's face. To his shock, Draco bent his head down on their now-clasped hands, and closed his eyes. His shoulders shook.

Neville swore he was crying.

"Bloody hell," Neville whispered.

Ginny's head snapped up-- a look of horror crossed her face.
"Neville--"

But he shook his head, realizing something important as Draco too looked at him, narrowed his gaze in… challenge? He breathed out. "Thank heavens. Now I don't have to be the one to tell you when to push."

~ ~seven~ ~

They had asked him to go to the village and find the midwife who lived there. A muggle woman who Draco said could be trusted--her sister had been a wizard, but died in a tragic accident at Hogwart's her first year. Upon delivering the kindly woman and her bag to Draco's room where he'd moved Ginny, Neville sat down to wait. Then he stood and waited. Then paced and waited, dying to know what was going on, desperately glad he didn't know first hand. Then he took Stretch for a long walk, came back and tried to eat something, all the while staring at the closed bedroom door.

At last he heard crying. A baby. Then Draco emerged, grinning, exhausted, limping badly. "Now you can go."

"What is it, then?"

"A girl. And she's not a redhead! I've got to go back in there."

Neville stared at Draco for a moment, then held out his hand. Draco took it. "Congratulations, mate. I'm really happy for you. I'm really happy it wasn't me in there."

Draco laughed, then shocked Neville by pulling him into a hug. Neville tensed and Draco whooped, oblivious, and let him go. "I'm a father! Me! She's beautiful!"

Neville was glad when Draco stopped thumping him on the back and headed back to Ginny. Bemused by the former Slytherin's joy, Neville and Stretch left to carry out the second thing Ginny had asked of him. He didn't think it right, somehow, to see the baby before her family did. He Apparated to the Weasley's home, finding them watching the telly.

"Neville!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Where's Ginny?"

"Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, I have something to tell you--"

"What! Where's my daughter?" Mr. Weasley leaped to his feet.

"Arthur--" Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"No! She's fine oh I'm terrible at this!" Neville said hurriedly. "And because I'm terrible at this she had the baby today. It's a girl!"

They stared at him, then stared at each other.

"A girl?" Mrs. Weasley said faintly. She smiled. "I wasn't there? She didn't want me--"

"No! It just happened too fast. I, oh this is terrible."

"What's terrible," Mr. Weasley demanded. "Sit down son and tell us everything."

"Everything?"

"Where is she?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.

Neville winced. Here it is, Neville thought. "She's with, um, well--"

"Spit it out, man."

"The baby isn't Harry's, it's Draco's. She's with him. They're in love. Draco was there, he helped, I didn't, they're at the house, he says the baby is beautiful and Ginny is okay and--"

The Weasleys stared at him. He knew he'd just sent their world teetering. Or crashed it.

"Molly," Mr. Weasley said, turning to his wife. "Draco? Not--" He looked up at Neville, bewildered. "Are you certain?"

Neville nodded. "They love each other, Mr. Weasley. Draco is the one who saved Ginny's life that night. Not Harry. She and Harry never, um--" His face heated.

"Draco," Mrs. Weasley said in a small voice. "Draco. Draco. A Malfoy. My granddaughter is a… Malfoy." Mrs. Weasley drew in her breath and breathed out, eyes closing and opening again, calming herself visibly in the single action. What she said next made Neville's heart nearly burst with unaccountable pride and admiration. "Well. Draco Malfoy and Ginny in love. Fleur turned out well in the end, perhaps Draco will too." Her smile trembled but she stood. "Where are they?"

"Draco's home, in Surrey."

"Oh my," Mr. Weasley said, his face still pale. Neville stood nervously and waited, waiting for the shock to play its course.
"Well. Not Harry then, as you say."

"No sir. Harry knew they were, um. He's an okay bloke," Neville assured them. "He's… surprised me. He's very excited."

"Why didn't he tell us himself?" Mr. Weasley said.

"Because he only found out it was his baby today, sir. He thought it was Harry's too. He couldn't leave Ginny, and, well, Ginny asked me if I would break the news to you. I said of course."

"Why didn't she tell us, all this time?" he said. Mr. Weasley slumped on the couch. "My own daughter, afraid to tell me the truth."

Mrs. Weasley patted his shoulder. "We can discuss this later, Arthur. Our daughter needs us. A Malfoy though. Oh my. What if the baby is blond?"

Mr. Weasley stood. "Not likely. Redheads always win out."

"Um, actually sir, she is blonde," Neville said.

Mr. Weasley startled, then spread his hands in defeat. "I wish she had told us, but now is not the time to fuss. Take us to her, will you Neville? Our first grandchild has been born!"

"I'll take you."

They all turned. It was George. A huge smile split his face. "So, they finally know," he said to Neville. He leaned against the door's frame, eating an apple as casually as if this were old, boring news. Which, Neville realized, it was to him.

"You knew?" Mr. Weasley said, finding his voice.

"Yup. Ginny didn't realize I knew though." His smile faded, turned sad for a moment. "Fred told me, before he died, what he suspected. Swore I had to keep it secret, and keep Ginny safe. I have." He stood. "Frankly I'm glad it's over. I'm tired of tagging after her. That's how I found out, after all. She kept going to his cottage, staring up at his house. She never went in."

"Mr. Weasley, there's more," he said. Mrs. Weasley paused. He gulped. "Draco figured out something very important, that he told us tonight. We think we know where Bellatrix is hiding."

At that, Mr. Weasley's expression completely changed. He drew himself up to where he seemed to tower over Neville. "Bellatrix." That's all he said, before he turned to his wife. "Molly--"

"Go," she said. "You'll just be in the way anyway. George?"

"Yes ma'am." He looped his arm through his mother's and they Apparated.

Mr. Weasley turned to Neville. "Ministry of Magic, my office," he said, and he disappeared. Neville quickly followed.

Affero

"Neville, where do you want this bunch?"

Neville stood, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Over there," he told Draco. "They go in the hedge behind the stone bench." He watched as Draco, shirt off and skin drenched, jerked with his chin to the two muggles behind him. Like he, they carried large tubs of rosa canina, which, fortunately, were still in bud form. The blooms would eventually be the size of Stretch's head, and would like to be petted just as much. Perfect for beside his mum's special bench.

Neville returned to his work, wincing a little at the ache in his back, the sting of his hands as they gripped the hoe he'd been using. Working with plants the muggle way was quite different than he'd expected, but over the months since the Battle of Bellatrix--as that last, unprecedented and unexpected fight was called--he'd come to appreciate what good hard work could produce.

Draco too seemed to be enjoying himself, though the former Death Eater still limped when he was tired. And he was that often, between working with Neville to restore his mum's gardens to their former glory, and staying up half the night playing with his daughter. They'd named her Augusta Rose, though to Ginny's horror Draco insisted on calling the little girl Augie. Neville thought it was cute. He couldn't believe she was almost eight months old, and trying to walk. He watched her now as Ginny played with her on a blanket whilst talking to Hermione.

Hermione had been the last to win over regarding Draco, but Neville had been with her when she first saw Augie. With the baby's snowy-white hair and bright blue eyes and elfin-shaped face, there was no way anyone but Draco Malfoy could've been that baby's father.

"Blimey," Ron said, and Hermione said, turning to Ron with her eyes shining suspiciously, "Maybe I want one after all. She's beautiful! But not yet. Someday. In ten years or so, I think." Ron had been pleased at that, and Ginny had let out an audible sigh of relief.

Since then, and once all the final wards and spells had been cleared from his parents' home--which, he'd discovered, had been purchased by his parents a few weeks before they were attacked and even Great Uncle Algie hadn't known about it--he'd immediately put his plan in action. First task of course was to reveal the house for once and all. That had taken more than his own magic--a whole team of wizards had worked to restore the memories of those muggle neighbours who had been spelled to forget the house, and to replace all those muggle memories with knowledge of the area--a large empty field to them--with the awareness that Longbottom Manor had always been present in the valley just past the old grist mill.

A Herculean task.

And now, everything was nearing completion. Neville's only regret of the last few months was that somehow he'd lost the gum wrapper his mum had given him. But he'd found he could survive without it. He finally had meaning in his life. Restoring the gardens, providing much-needed jobs in the groves for the locals, and, much to his delight, George had decided to open a potion division, headed by Draco. Draco's Draughts, Etc. would need a steady supply of plants and he was just the wizard to provide them. Great Uncle Algie would handle the rare plant expeditions for now. Neville had no intention of leaving his mum's home anytime soon.

His home.

Draco and his helpers finished planting the shrubs they'd carried in, and once the muggles had left again, leaving him, Draco, Hermione, Ginny and the baby and of course Stretch alone, he took out his wand and quickly straightened up the last bit of the garden. He looked around him in satisfaction, the others watching him as he surveyed his new kingdom. He did feel rather like a king. He had so much more than he ever thought he would. Friends, family, and he was a god father, too.

They'd planted fruit trees--apples, Valencia oranges, figs, plums. Persimmon, lemons, and even avocado. Live oak, Cork oak, Blue oak saplings created a mini forest at the far end of the garden. He'd replaced the half dead apical meristem with a cedrus deadora. His mother appeared to have loved Bonsai trees, so he'd planted a liquid amber and jacaranda as well. He'd planted palms--Sago and King and Vietnamese Fish Tail Palms that more than once had flapped at muggles, startling and confusing them. Draco had laughed at that. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin, Neville supposed.

And the flowers of course--jasmine, arelia, Camelia, Nandina, Birds of Paradise--muggle variety, he'd been very careful there--and Gerber daisies and daylilies, roses of every variety he could find promising to fill the garden with heaven in the years to come.

Canna, Pentas, Alstromeria, Penstemmon, Baby's Breath, lavender which already had attracted dozens of hummingbirds. Hundreds of flowers, hundreds of plants. He'd restored and replaced them all just for her.

He nodded once, leaning on his hoe. "It's finished."

"It's beautiful, Neville," Ginny said. "She'll love it."

"I hope so," he said. "I hope so."

~ ~ ~ ~

Neville walked down the fourth floor hallway at St. Mungo's for what he intended to be the last time. Without hesitation, he bypassed the day room, not bothering to cast it a glance. Those memories no longer held anger for him. He understood now what his Gran had done, and most importantly why.

She'd loved him.

Whether or not that was true he had no way of truly knowing for she never spoke the words, but he believed in his heart that was the reason why she'd kept him away from his mum's room once that picture arrived. Not to deny him the magic of his mum's flowers, but to keep him from asking what house was that on his mum's wall. She would no doubt have answered his mild curiosity to his satisfaction, but he had a restlessness in him that eventually did prove to be impossible to satisfy. He would've pushed to know, then in time, demanded it. He was growing stronger--fighting death itself had brought him that--and he would've, he knew, lost his fear of his grandmother.

She wouldn't have been able to keep it from him much longer. Not much longer at all.

"Mr. Longbottom. May I help you?"

Alistair Sprigg. Just the man he wanted to see. Neville stopped, and turned. He'd almost reached his mother's room. He looked at the older wizard, not bothering to hide his distaste. "No, Mr. Spriggs, you may not."

"I must ask that you return to the day room to visit your mother. I will bring her--"

"No sir. You will not bring her to me. I shall go see her."

Spriggs stared at him, clearly taken aback. But he found his voice.
"Neville, you do not have permission to see her. You know the rules. I must insist--"

Neville raised his chin. Several wizards who had heard them speaking--Spriggs' voice had escalated--stopped and watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katherine emerge from a room, a stack of folders in her hand. She grinned at him.

"She's ready, Neville."

Spriggs whirled on her. "Ready? What do you mean? Ready? I removed you from Mrs. Longbottom's case. I warned you, Miss Cabbott, that if you--"

"Oh do be quiet," Katherine said. "I just gave notice. Fire me, I don't care." She said to Neville, "Would you like company?"

"No," he said. "I'll see you back at the house." He turned to face Spriggs. "Mum's house. We'll be there shortly. Both of us."

Alistair Spriggs sputtered. "You have no right, you can't take her out of here!"

"I have every right," Neville said calmly, removing a paper from his pocket. He handed it to Spriggs. The wizard stared down at it, then stepped back.

"What is it?" he said.

"It's the final statement of review of my mother's file." He grinned. "I believe you will recognize the handwriting as that of Persephone Heldworn? The new chief of the Ministry of Magic, Healing?"

Spriggs' face reddened. "How dare you," he whispered. "What did you do? How did you get that file?" He turned to Katherine. "You." He took a step forward. "YOU!" He raised his hand as if to curse her. She dove behind another wizard but it was something else entirely that stopped Spriggs.

Rini's large hairy mitt clenched Spriggs' wrist. "You not hurt Katherine. Neville. You are bad wizard, Alistair Spriggs."

The wizard fell to his knees, his face white with agony.

"Rini," Neville admonished. "I said not to hurt him."

She let go, sighing. "No fun."

Alistair cradled his arm. "I'll get you for this, Neville Longbottom.
And you too, Katherine." Rini bent over and snarled in his face. The man screamed, and fainted at her feet.

Two of the wizards watching Neville suddenly recognized. One was the short goateed wizard who he and Katherine had seen when they hid that first day she was taking him to see his mum in her room.

The wizard sighed, then carefully examined the unconscious Spriggs' wrist. "It's not broken, but I'll take him to be certain. And don't worry. He won't cause you any trouble, Mr. Longbottom. Katherine." He nodded at her. "We'll miss you around here. Sure you won't stay?"

"I'm sure." She glanced shyly at Neville. His face heated. "I'm going to be helping Neville take care of his mum."

The wizard nodded. "You are taking her home then. I heard about the manor, the gardens."

"You're welcome to visit, sir," Neville said. "We'd like that."

"Perhaps I will, on summer holiday." He winked. "I've just accepted a position at Hogwarts. I'll be running the infirmary."

"It's reopening?" Neville said, feeling an unaccountable rush of joy. This day was truly getting better and better.

"Certainly is. If you're ever of a mind to turn your hand to teaching, Neville, I'm certain that your expertise with plants--"

Neville stepped back in horror. "Teach? No thank you. Sir. Thank you. I--"

The wizard laughed. Alistair Spriggs stirred at his feet. "All right then. Come on, Phinn. Let's get you taken care of." He took out his wand and waved it over the wizard. Neville looked at him in shock. "Our little secret," he whispered, and then he and Spriggs apparated.

"Did he just do what I think he did?" Katherine said, laughing.

"I think he did."

Rini sighed. "No fun, no memory. Was looking forward to fight."

Neville grinned. "Take Rini with you, Kat?"

"Of course." She reached up and kissed him. "See you in a few minutes." The two women--or rather, woman and troll--disappeared.

Neville once again was alone on the Closed Ward. But this time, he proceeded to his mum's room without incident, though slightly woozy from Katherine's unexpected kiss. He found his mum's room then knocked lightly though he knew his mum wouldn't answer.

Walking into the room, he smiled to see her sitting in her chair. Katherine had dressed his mother in a pretty new dress Ginny had picked out, a dress covered with flowers just like the garden. She had on a hat, and new shoes. She looked up at Neville, puzzled.

"Hello, mum," he said, approaching her. She looked up at him, then reached for his hand. She pressed something into it, then dropped her hands, and turned her head to look at the flowers on the wall. He opened his hand--it was the gum wrapper he'd lost, faded and worn. She'd made it into a flower.

"Thank you," he said. He crouched down so they were eye level, grasping her lightly on the shoulders so she would look at him. He kissed her on the cheek. "I've come to take you home."

She stilled. Looked at him, her eyes clearing for a brief moment. She reached up, her hand, warm and soft, cradling his face. "You are my friend," she whispered.

He nodded. "Yes, Mum, I'm your friend. Let's go home."

finis