Frost Crack on the Hogwarts Express
A/N: Gift fic for Almyra who asked for something Harry Potter with Neville. The title is a poorly thought-out metaphor and pun, as frost crack is a form of tree damage and Neville's pet subject is Herbology. At any rate, I hope that you enjoy this, as flawed as it is. Merry Christmas, Almyra!
"Lunch, dear?"
Neville turned his head tiredly to face the trolley lady.
"I'm good, thanks," he said, hoping his voice sounded less bland to others than it did to his own ears.
The lady stopped and peered at him.
"Are you all right, dear? You look rather tired. Pumpkin pasty?" she said, cheerfully, but Neville simply shook his head glumly.
"I'm ok. Thanks," he said, slightly more firmly, and turned to stare out the window. Endless plains of white seemed to drift by. He waited until the clatter of the wheels had headed down the carriage before he put his head in his hands.
"What's this? Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?"
Ashamed! How could he possibly be ashamed of them? How could Gran think he could ever be ashamed of them?
But he was glad that they weren't on the train. Normally he would hate to travel alone, feel the taunts (Malfoy, in particular)- but today, Neville could not have been gladder that for some mysterious reason, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all absent.
"Hey Mum, I managed to disarm Hermione Granger this year. I know it's not much, but I did it. I managed it, Mum!"
Uncomprehending eyes blinking at him.
"Oh, Neville, come along. Goodbye, Alice, dear. Goodbye, Frank."
Almost of its own accord, his right hand plunged into his coat pocket to feel the old Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper. He hadn't quite been able to leave this one at home. He hadn't wanted to, either. Home at Christmas had been a pretty glum affair. He pulled the wrapper out, smoothed the wrinkles.
"Honestly, Neville, why wouldn't you tell your friends? Merlin, what a grandson! And you have your father's wand…"
"Here, these'll help get rid of the wrackspurts," said a voice, drifting from somewhere behind his right shoulder. He felt something drop onto his lap. "There are quite a lot of them around Christmas, and some of them are unwelcome."
He opened his eyes (half wondering when he had shut them) and looked down to see a pair of strange glasses with different variously coloured pieces of cellophane in places of lenses. Then he raised his head to see the slight, pale girl with long, messy blonde hair, staring at him with her huge, orb-like eyes. Her expression was not unkind, but Neville found her presence slightly off-putting.
"Luna," he asked blearily, "what are you doing here?"
"Sitting with you, obviously," she replied cheerily, falling rather gracefully onto the chair opposite him. "It's because Harry and Ron and Hermione and Ginny aren't here," she added, no doubt catching the inquisitive glance in Neville's eyes.
"Oh," said Neville, feeling slightly mystified. "Well- er, thanks."
"I wondered why they weren't on the train," Luna continued, matter-of-factly, "but I suppose it's a strange year. Maybe it had something to do with the cactypul increase around Ottery St Catchpole, but I didn't see the Weasleys at Christmas."
Christmas.
Mum and Dad.
St Mungos.
"I did," Neville mumbled, trying not to look anywhere. He almost jumped with surprise when he felt Luna's hand reach over to pat his.
"It's all right," she said, comfortingly. "If it helps, Daddy and I spent Christmas at Mummy's grave. We conjured up bell flames and sang songs with her. I think she would have liked it, but it did get rather cold."
Something did a funny little jump in Neville's stomach as he sharply jerked his head to look at Luna. Her eyes seemed a little clearer, though still slightly dreamy, but they betrayed no surprise.
"How-" he paused. "How did you know?"
"Know?" Luna repeated, looking slightly confused.
"About- about my parents," he stammered.
It was the first time he had mentioned his parents to anyone at Hogwarts and he had a strange, queasy feeling in his stomach.
"You should be proud, Neville, proud!"
But he was- he was. Proud, and horribly afraid that they would be anything but proud if they could see who he was.
"I don't, really," Luna's voice said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I just guessed- that expression on your face. I sometimes feel that way when I think about Mummy."
She peered at him closely.
"When did they die?"
"They didn't," he said, brusquely, and clutched the gum wrapper till he could hear the creases. "That's- how I saw the Weasleys."
Luna didn't say anything, for which Neville was glad. She simply nodded, then returned to her seat.
They sat together in silence for some time. The hum of the train wheels faded even further into the fields as clouds slowly rolled in over the hills. At some points, it seemed that the hills and clouds even merged, and became one.
Eventually, the skies began darkening, and Neville fumbled around with his suitcase for his robes. When he had changed, he suddenly remembered that Luna was still in the carriage, and he felt his cheeks grow red.
"Er, um, thanks for- er, sitting here," he said, feeling supremely awkward.
Luna looked up at him placidly.
"I'm sure they're proud of you," she said, seriously. "You're a good wizard, Neville."
"I- er- what?"
"Oh, Neville. You know that Frank had mastered that spell by the time he was twelve?"
"Oh, Neville. Alice never got those marks in charms."
"Why, Neville, when I was just thirteen, I could transfigure a teapot into a parasol!"
"Oh… well… I suppose that is better than last year, Neville…"
"Gryffindor?" - in that terribly surprised, condescending tone. "Well, I didn't think you had it in you. But I suppose you must have something of your parents in you, somewhere."
"You're a good wizard," Luna repeated. "And I'm sure they're proud of you. I hope you had a merry Christmas, Neville."
Then she blithely picked up her belongings and left the carriage.
I'm sure they're proud of you.
Really, Mum? he wanted to ask. Do you really think so, Dad?
But they weren't going to reply, he knew that they would never be able to reply, even if they wanted to.
He fingered the gum wrapper one last time and slid it into his pocket.
By the time he had made it out of the train, he was unsurprised to see Luna sitting alone in one of the last carriages. He plunged his hand back to his pocket to feel the gum wrapper one last time, then decided to join her. He stumbled over the hem of his cloaks and hissed as his knee collided with the edge of the carriage.
At the sudden noise, Luna dropped The Quibbler, before relaxing and smiling. The smile lit up her face and brought a certain light to her eyes that Neville found (very nice, and something warm quickly filled his stomach) surprisingly pleasant.
"Hello, Neville," she said, her voice only mildly distant, and he smiled back at her.
"Thanks, Luna," he said sincerely, and she beamed.
Then they sat together, which would have surprised Neville if he had chosen to think about it, and they waited in the comfortable quiet as Hogwarts slowly came into view.