Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Don't even think about it.
Written for the Eleventh and Final Round of the IWSC
School: Mahoutokoro
Year: 2
Theme: Write about confrontations.
Special Rule: Include the Pygmy Puffs themselves.
Main Prompt: [emotion] confusion
Additional Prompts: [color] purple and [pairing] Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood
Word count: 2809
Our team of seven writers connected our stories using the following techniques:
Plot points: Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of the second Wizarding War.
Confrontations between characters that would never talk to one another in a normal setting.
Pygmy puffs that change color depending on their owner's mood.
Purple clothing is a must-wear for the attendees of the gathering.
Mentions/signs of rainbows.
Same setting: All are happening within Diagon Alley, some within Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, some in another nearby shop.
Additional team bonding: Same cover pictures for our stories and a title beginning with the letter 'M' (in honour of Mahoutokoro).
A big thank you to Socks (Socrates2272) who designed the cover picture that we all used.
A big thank you also to Sophie (3cheersforidiots) and Tiggs (whitetoger91) who took time away from their own stories, to help the rest of our team with theirs by betaing for everyone and answering questions when we had them. Tiggs also came up with my title so extra thanks for that. :) Love you guys.
#TeamHootie
xxxxx
The bell above the door tinkled as Neville opened it, but he could hardly hear it over the sudden, deafening sound of laughter, drinks being poured, and glasses clinking. Luna bounced beside him, looking around, her dreamy eyes filled with clear excitement.
Neville smiled broadly, admiring all the colors and enthusiasm that filled the building almost to breaking point. He recognized most of the occupants. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in a corner, all smiling and laughing at something Ron had just said. It was a pleasant sight, for even though it had been two years since the end of the war, smiles were still somewhat forced, particularly for those three. Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt stood together, and even Mr. Ollivander was present, deep in conversation with Professor Flitwick.
"Nev?" Luna spoke from beside him, startling him out of his trance.
"Yeah, Luna?" Neville replied, looking at her.
"I'm going to go and let Percy know that there's some Nargles buzzing around him."
Neville nodded absentmindedly as Luna pecked him on the cheek before bouncing off. Realizing he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning, Neville looked around in search of food. The flyers that he and Luna had received said that there was to be food present, specially cooked and catered by some of the Hogwarts house-elves.
Another thing that had been enclosed in the flyers was the instruction to wear something purple in color. Luna had taken the matter into her own hands very eagerly, saying that they should do something different than what the others would do, so she'd transfigured hers and Neville's hair purple. Neville had been annoyed at first, but Luna's smile had made the irritation melt away.
As he wandered over to the array of tables, he inhaled deeply, grinning as the scent of food washed over him, reminding him of Hogwarts, the place where he had always felt most at home. Sure, he'd been bullied and made fun of fairly often, but he had also made friends and fought side by side with people that were more family than friends.
Grabbing a few different foods and piling them onto a plate, Neville turned and greeted a few people before striking up a conversation with Hannah Abbot.
xxxxx
Severus approached the bright and cheerful storefront, a hesitance in his step. He hadn't particularly wanted to attend this gathering, but somehow, someway, Draco had been able to persuade him. Draco had obviously been surprised by his own success as well, for he then made a joke about Severus growing softer in his "old age". Severus had glared at him and, though he was twenty years old, Draco had immediately backed down. Old age, Severus had thought. What a joke. He was only forty-one.
As he walked, his black robes billowed in the chilly wind, a sign that rain might be drawing near. He was now just outside the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Reaching out his hand, he pulled open the door. He was promptly overwhelmed by the noise and color, and he would've instantly left had someone not grabbed his shoulder at that very moment.
He turned back from the door and withdrew his wand instinctively before realizing that it was a Weasley. George Weasley, to be exact.
"Professor Snape?" George said. He didn't say it excitedly or angrily; in fact, he said it in more of an ashamed, disappointed way.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Severus replied.
"I'm sorry," George said.
Severus started. He looked at the younger man and saw abashment. "For what?" he asked, his voice unnaturally calm.
"For everything," George continued. "Harry told us about what you did and how you had to spy for Dumbledore while still keeping up the Death Eater act for Voldemort. I can only imagine how difficult it must've been to have to lie to everybody."
Severus was stunned, to say the least. He never expected apologies from anybody, let alone someone who had been as affected by the war as George Weasley.
"Well, I'm sorry for everything I did," Severus said, and his eyes wandered over George's face to where there should've been an ear resting, but now, only scarred skin remained.
George had obviously followed Severus's gaze. "Don't worry about this," he said with a wave of his hand. "It's long since healed, and it's just a part of me now. We've all got scars."
Severus nodded.
"Well," George said, his voice bright and cheerful now. "Let's join the party, shall we? Oh, wait!"
Severus stopped again as George pointed his own wand at Severus's chest. A purple rosette blossomed there and rested on the lapel of his robes.
"Color of the day," George said, smiling as he walked off.
xxxxx
Neville's gaze flickered around the room. Hannah had excused herself to talk to some of her other friends, and now, Neville was drifting around the room, greeting and talking to the people he recognized. As he turned away from Ernie Macmillan, his eyes landed on the most recently arrived guest and he did a double-take. Snape. Severus Snape was standing there, looking around with an almost-nervous look on his face. The ex-Death Eater and murderer of Dumbledore was attending a gathering for the heroes of the war.
Neville continued to watch curiously; he was surprised to see Harry walk up and begin talking to Snape. They exchanged a few words, Harry smiled, then they separated, Harry retreating back to Ron and Hermione, and Snape approaching the food tables. Neville moved towards him.
"What are you doing here?" Neville asked scathingly as Snape picked up a plate.
"I thought that would be obvious, Mr. Longbottom," Snape replied. "I'm attending this gathering."
"You know bloody well what I mean!" Neville shot back. "You're a Death Eater! You murdered Dumbledore!"
Snape's eyes flashed and he dropped the plate back onto the table with a loud clang.
"For your information, Longbottom, I didn't do any of that by choice," Snape snapped.
"What do you mean?" Neville replied, taken aback.
"I was forced into all of that. Dumbledore knew that he was dying from a curse, and to prove my apparent loyalty to Voldemort and to save Draco, I had to kill him. I didn't want to, but I had to." Snape's voice had risen and a few nearby people looked at him in surprise, some looking wary and suspicious, much like Neville. Snape ignored them.
He sighed. "Look, Longbottom, I'm sorry."
Neville froze. Well, that was unexpected, he thought. Was Snape really apologizing to him?
"Uh, for what?" he stammered.
"I was unnecessarily cruel to you while you attended Hogwarts," Snape explained.
"Why?" Neville asked simply, and his voice softened ever so slightly, for he noticed the emotion hidden deep beneath Snape's words.
Snape sighed and ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "I blamed you for the death of the only person I ever loved."
Neville blinked. "I – what? Who – who did you love?" he asked.
"Lily Evans," Snape said quietly.
"Wait – Harry's mum?" Neville clarified.
Snape nodded. Both he and Neville threw a quick glance over to where Harry was talking to Draco Malfoy. They were both surprised to see the two former enemies having a civil conversation, but Snape and Neville quickly turned their attention back to each other. They were immediately interrupted, however.
"Hullo!" George walked towards them. "Here!" he spoke, holding out two objects that looked suspiciously like furry Christmas baubles.
"No, thanks," Snape growled out as he saw one of the furry objects move.
"Thanks," Neville said at the same time, taking one from George's hand, a deep pinkish-purple color. It purred happily as Neville stroked the top of it. "They're called Pygmy Puffs, right?" he asked George.
George nodded. "Yeah. Here you go, Professor," he continued, reaching over and dropping the second one onto Snape's shoulder. It was a bright, almost-ugly pink and had deep set brown eyes that one could hardly see through the mane of magenta fur. It emitted a high-pitched squeak as George smiled and walked off. As he did, Neville saw him pull about five more Puffs out of his robe pockets.
"So, what have you been doing these past couple of years?" Neville began, turning to Snape again and setting his own Puff on his shoulder where it proceeded to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
Ignoring the creature on his own shoulder, Snape remained silent, grabbing the left sleeve of his robes and pulling it up, revealing a faded, gray scar.
"Trying to find a way to rid myself of this curse," Snape said quietly, throwing the sleeve back over the Dark Mark.
"You deserve to have that!" Neville spat instantly and without thought.
Snape's face remained impassive, but his eyes flashed with a sudden coldness; Neville gulped. He was tempted to turn and walk away right then, but something made him stand his ground.
Looking away from Snape's intimidating gaze, Neville distracted himself by grabbing the Pygmy Puff off his shoulder and stroking it, bewildered to see that it had changed color. It was now a deep purple and it was no longer purring. Neville looked up at Snape's puff. It too had changed color, and was now more red than pink.
"What?" Snape hissed.
Neville gestured at their Puffs and Snape looked down at his. His face changed from one of anger to one of curiosity.
"Interesting," he murmured, plucking the small creature off his shoulder and peering at it, examining it closely. He ruffled its fur, squinted at its eyes, and examined its underbelly, nothing obvious seeming to jump out at him. It squeaked in surprise, but didn't try to escape.
Giving the tiniest of noncommittal shrugs, Snape put the creature back on his shoulder and turned his attention back to Neville. He was quiet for another moment before speaking.
"You know, I went to school with your parents," he said.
"Really?" Neville said, a childish excitement leaping into his eyes. "Did you know them well?"
"I'll be honest, I didn't much like your father," Snape said. "He was kind, but I thought he was almost too kind. He was a Hufflepuff and he was bullied quite often; I looked down on him for that." Neville felt a stab of annoyance and he noticed that Snape was avoiding his gaze. "I knew your mother very well, though. We were close friends for a few years."
"Really?" Neville said again in the same quiet tone that Snape was speaking in, the annoyance having passed just as quickly as it had appeared.
Snape nodded again. "Yes, she was a Gryffindor and was extremely smart and brave. She always helped out those in need, and for a while, that person was me. I was quite good at nearly every subject except Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy. She, however, was quite good at both of those, so she aided me with them. While Lily and I were friends, so were your mother and I. Both of them were in the same year as myself. When Lily and I . . ." Snape trailed off before resuming again. "When my friendship with Lily faded, so did the friendship I had with your mother. I was always sorry about that. She was a wonderful person. What happened to her and Frank . . . they did not deserve it in the slightest."
It seemed that Snape had begun speaking more to himself than to Neville, and Neville noticed something he had never before seen in his former professor. Emotion. Not anger or rage, but sadness. Remorse. Regret.
Neville turned his eyes down to his feet and sniffed quietly, grabbing his Pygmy Puff and patting it as he searched for something to say. The loud music still blared but the chatter had quieted down in favor of more private conversations. Looking up, Neville found that he could faintly hear a light pattering of rain on the windows.
"Hmm. You are somewhat interesting, aren't you?"
Neville looked up. Snape had picked up the Puff and was examining it again. Neville noticed that its color had once again changed. It was no longer reddish-pink, nor was it the bright, ugly magenta it had been when George had given it to Snape. It was now a light pink, almost like the skin of a peach. It was also purring ever so quietly.
Confused, Neville looked down at his own and noticed that it was now a different color also. It was no longer a bright pinkish-purple, nor was it a deep purple. Instead, it was a light purple, like the color of lavender. In fact, now that Neville thought about it, the Puff's fur closely resembled the color of his own hair which Luna had temporarily dyed purple.
"How are they?"
Neville jumped slightly at the sound of Snape's voice. He looked up at him. "Sorry?" he asked.
"How are your parents?" Snape clarified. "It's been a long time since I've visited them."
"Oh, they – um – they're not too well," Neville said, willing his voice not to sound thick. "My dad, he – um – he died about a few months or so ago. Some rogue Death Eaters, they – uh – they attacked St. Mungo's to try and – well – to try and finish off some people. There was a big explosion in the ward they were in, and he was one of the patients that they couldn't get out in time."
"I remember hearing about that," Snape muttered. "And Alice?" he prompted.
"She made it out. She's a little more coherent than he had been, but she's really different now. The Healers, they said that her and Dad had their own little world, that they could understand each other even if we couldn't. Now, she doesn't really have anyone to understand her. The Healers said that she's not really living anymore. She can't talk to anyone and – and she's been eating less and less ever since he – he died." Neville stopped, tears dripping off his eyes and onto his shoes as he looked down. He sensed that Snape was looking at him and he wondered what his feelings for Snape were at this point.
"They've left the decision up to me about whether or not to . . ." he stopped again, but he knew he need not continue. He knew Snape would know what he meant.
"What do you think you'll do?" Snape asked quietly.
Neville shrugged as he looked up at the former professor. "I dunno. Part of me wants to keep her alive because, apart from my gran, she's the only family I have left. But the other part of me wants her to be pain free and with Dad, y'know?"
Snape remained silent and Neville looked up hesitantly. "What do you think? It seems like you knew Mum fairly well." He left the question hanging, wondering what Snape might say.
The Potions Master sighed and looked out a nearby window where the rain continued to patter down the window panes.
"I can't tell you what to do, Neville," he said softly, surprising the younger man by the use of his first name. "I'll say this, though. Your parents fought in a physical war and now a mental war. They were two of the strongest people I have ever met. I've never met anyone that strong-willed who could resist torture like that. Now, they have a son who's just as strong-willed as they were, if not more so."
Neville sniffed. A few minutes later, the conversation took a more cheerful turn with Snape asking him how his internship with Professor Sprout had been going.
That afternoon, when Neville returned home with Luna, he thought about everything he had talked about with Snape. About how he had known Neville's parents and went to school with them. About how he had been forced into spying for Voldemort and Dumbledore and had had to sacrifice any chance at a normal life with a possible family.
Neville realized that people could change. Sometimes, they didn't want people to see it, but it was there, even if it took an outburst in front of more than fifty people to realize it.
xxxxx
Later that day, after speaking to a few other people, Severus walked out of the shop, feeling lighter than he had in years. The rain had dispersed and a pale blue sky had replaced the gray murky one. As he began to walk, he glimpsed a splash of color in the corner of his eye. He looked up and saw a rainbow twinkling in the sunlight.
Severus allowed himself a small smile as the Pygmy Puff nuzzled against his ear, emitting another, softer squeak. He was taken aback by the sudden contact and looked at the creature. His smile widened as he spoke to the Puff.
"Come along, Alice."