Disclaimer: All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.
Author's Note: Here I am! A couple more chapters, and then we're into uncharted territory. My schedule is hectic right now. I spend 44 hours a week at school, plus add 2 hours a day for driving to and from. And the week after next I'm visiting Pennsylvania to stay at a college for a few days, during which I won't really have time to work on my stories because I'll be auditing classes.
Anyway, I like this chapter. A lot. I might even like it a little better than the last one, but like I said before, as it is now, the story starts slow and builds up. Cue the mystery music.
Thanks for all your reviews, you guys. It means a lot to me. Gah! This is a long author's note, huh?
Physco Freak Gurl—Personally, I think that Ron's orange hair would go nicely with a blue shirt, but that may just be me. I know the gray pants (is that what I put him in? can't remember) are lame but I was having trouble thinking of something I hadn't already used in the scene. I couldn't see Ron in baby pink; it'd clash with his hair. I don't see Harry in a TOUGH GUYS WEAR PINK shirt either. I've seen the shirts; it's just not my interpretation of Harry. I think that kind of promotes the stereotype of only girls wearing pink; if I guy is wearing a shirt that says it's acceptable then it makes you think "why wouldn't it be acceptable?" Sorry, I'm rambling.
CHAPTER 7: Dinner
A few minutes after six, Bill Apparated and joined them. "Hey, everybody, I'm home." He looked at the table. "You all waited for me?"
"Yes, dear, sit down," Mrs. Weasley said warmly. "Now that everyone's here, we can eat."
Serving plates swapped all over the table. Harry saw that Mrs. Weasley had cooked a lot of his favorite foods. Mashed potatoes went back and forward across the table and so did fried chicken, snow peas, and a lot of other foods. Neville was almost surprised the table could hold it all.
Neville couldn't remember a single time outside of Hogwarts where he'd eaten at a table with this many people at it; it wasn't as if he had a huge family. The most there had ever been, even on a holiday or special occasion, had been no more than five of them (Uncle Algie, Aunt Enid, Gramps, Gran, and himself). Neville helped himself and just tried to blend in and listen to the conversations going on around him.
Harry, Ginny, and Ron were discussing Quidditch strategies for the upcoming year. Fred and George were trying to come up with solutions to the problems in some of their newer joke products, occasionally soliciting Hermione for a suggestion. Hermione had gotten Percy to stop discussing work just long enough to ask a few questions about the NEWTs. Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Tonks were discussing political affairs, with occasional interjections by Charlie (who kept getting distracted by his mother). Mrs. Weasley was double tasking by trying to get Charlie to tell her who his mystery girlfriend was and occasionally making comments to Bill about his hair being too long.
Neville ate his fill and began to get drowsy. He settled himself into the chair and felt his eyes closing as the conversations buzzed around him.
"Fudge is an idiot."
"Well, Dumbledore can't take his place, Dumbledore is needed at Hogwarts and with the Order."
"I know but, Percy, should I really continue to take Ancient Runes? It's terribly fascinating but I don't know of any career opportunity that requires that class."
"Well, if you went the same route as Bill, studying Ancient Runes would be a necessity."
"Bill, please cut your hair."
"And so if we split the Chasers into a pair and a single, it would be a double-unit, meaning the group as a whole should be more effective."
"No, Mum."
"Charlie dear, why won't you tell me who she is? A mother has a right to know. I'm sure she's darling."
"But the Chasers need to be unified or they don't stand a chance."
"No, Mum."
"But what about Monkshood? Would that do any good you think?"
"I'm not sure, hey, brain-girl, what are the properties of Monkshood? I only remember the first four, and I think there's supposed to be six of them."
Neville opened his eyes to see that the conversations were all still being carried on with as much fervor as before.
Ginny had dropped out of the conversation with Harry and Ron after they finished talking about Chasers, and looked worriedly at Neville. Did he look sad? Left out? Well, of course he was going to be sad, idiot, she told herself. The woman who's raised him for almost his whole life died, and she was probably just about the last of his family. "Hey, you okay?" she asked quietly.
"Fine. Just resting."
"Are you sure?" she asked anxiously.
"Yeah. Just thinking about my plants. Some of them need to be watered tonight. That's all."
"We can go over there and take care of that later. Don't worry."
"I'm not worried, Ginny. I'm alright."
Ginny looked at him skeptically.
"Time for cake!" said Mrs. Weasley. She went to inside and brought out a very large chocolate cake. There were frosting Snitches around the upper part of the outside and the words "Happy Birthday!" written in green icing. Squeezed on the lower outside of the cake were green frosting leaves. "Everybody sing to the birthday boys," instructed Mrs. Weasley.
A dozen voices took up the words, "Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Harry and Neville! Happy Birthday to you!"
If Neville had thought he was stuffed before, it was nothing to how he felt after eating the huge slab of cake Mrs. Wealsey put on his plate.
During the celebration Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood, and Professor McGonagall showed up. Even Dumbledore made a brief appearance toward the end of the night. Fred and George brought out a radio and coaxed the girls into dancing with them on the grass when a lively song came on—they claimed that they needed to work off their chocolate cake calories. But of course, there were only two twins and 3 girls, so they kindly suggested Harry dance with Katie. They "suggested" this bodily lifting Harry up by the armpits and dragging him over to Katie. Then the twins decided that since Neville was a birthday boy too, he just had to dance. They looked around for somebody for him to dance with and pulled out their sister; conveniently leaving ickle-Ronniekins to dance with Hermione. When Hermione and Ron didn't volunteer to dance together, Fred and George hauled them out of their respective seats and pretty much shoved them together. Bill got up and extended his hand to Tonks (who knows? The twins might have tried to pair him with McGonagall!); she smiled and followed him to the improvised dance floor.
Neville kind of just stood where George had thrown him, looking at Ginny standing next to him where Fred had put her. More accurately Fred had sent Ginny spinning off in Neville's general direction and she crashed into him; she hauled herself back to her feet as gracefully as she could and stood next to him.
"What's the matter?" she asked, starting to dance to the music as the volume and tempo increased.
"I don't know how to dance to this kind of music."
"It's easy, look at everybody. Just bounce around and wave your arms. Move with the music."
Neville gave a feeble, self-conscious attempt. "You're a lot better at this than me."
Ginny glowered at him, thinking he was making fun of her. She was just dancing like she always did. "Just pretend that nobody else is here. Nobody watching you."
"I can't…"
"C'mon, everybody takes the radio and dances crazy in their room once in a while, right? Shut your eyes, or look at my nose or something."
Neville shut his eyes, tuning himself into the music, and started to dance a little better. But by then, the song was almost over.
Mr. Weasley pointed his wand at the radio, and offered his arm to his wife. "Care to dance?" he asked, charmingly. A slow tune started, and smoothing her skirt, Molly stood up and followed him.
Remus saw that Minerva was the only woman still around the table and gallantly asked if she would care to dance. It wouldn't be fair for her to be the only woman sitting out the fun.
McGonagall looked at him sharply. No matter how old her former students got, they were always her students to her. But she looked at the fun all around her and got up and tried to look cheerful. Everyone else was having a good time and it wouldn't be fair for her to spoil the party. She followed Remus.
As the slow song came on and Neville became nervous again. He hadn't done this in three years, and hadn't been very good then. He set one hand awkwardly at her waist, then the other, and tried to sway in time to the music.
Ginny set a hand on each of Neville's shoulders. Why wouldn't he relax? It was hard to dance with someone so rigid and formal.
Neville listened to the music. It was a ballad by the Frazzled Phoenixes. Neville was pretty sure that the title was "Sweet Lullabies."
Your eyes are orbs of light
In this terrible darkness
Seeing you makes things right
Oh how about this:
You and me take a little stroll
Listen to some rock and roll
Fly through night skies
And hear the world's sweet lullabies
Your hair shines like fire
Flying 'gainst the backdrop of the moon
Oh take me higher and higher
Listen to the phoenix's brand new tune:
You and me take a little stroll
Listen to some rock and roll
Fly through night skies
And hear the world's sweet lullabies.
As the music played on, Neville relaxed a little. Not much, but enough to relax his hands and move almost an inch and a half closer to Ginny.
Ginny smiled in relief. He finally looked like he was enjoying himself. As the chorus faded out for the last time, she teased, "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"
"I guess not," he muttered. "I mean, that was fun, er, I…"
"I get the picture," she grinned at him.
Neville danced some more with Ginny before George called for everyone to switch partners. Fred pulled Harry over toward Ginny, and Neville toward Alicia, while he took Katie for himself and passed Angelina on to George. Thanks to a rather to exuberant spin by Ron, Hermione went barreling into Oliver—who had previously not been dancing—and started dancing with him instead. By the time Neville sat down for a breath of air, he'd danced with Ginny, Alicia, Hermione, McGonagall (that was certainly awkward!), and then Ginny some more. He was fine with taking a break. There more guys than girls present anyway.
As the party died down, Neville found himself wishing it wasn't going to end, for more reasons than one. As he went to help take down the decorations and things, Mrs. Weasley reminded him that he still hadn't gone back home yet to fetch his things and offered to take him now if there was anything he had immediate need for.
"Er, Mrs. Weasley? Could I wait until tomorrow to go back to the house for my stuff?"
"Of course, Neville dear."
"Thanks. I promise I'll go after breakfast." He thought distractedly about his plants in desperate need of his care by now.
"Take your time. I can go with you in the morning if you'd like."
"I think I'll be alright."
"Bill and Charlie have taken tomorrow off if you'd rather go with them. I know they're planning on playing Quidditch in the afternoon."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." He wondered if maybe he ought to go while everyone else was distracted playing Quidditch. He looked over and saw Harry and Dumbledore having a quiet conversation.
McGonagall, Kingsley, Remus, and Tonks were saying their goodbyes to everyone and Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were saying their own goodbyes to the Weasley twins. Oliver had left half an hour before, saying that he had an early Quidditch practice in the morning. The others were starting to take down the decorations and move things back inside.
As Harry walked away to help with the dishes, Dumbledore beckoned Neville over. Neville was more than a little startled. He'd never really had much in the way of one-on-one chats with the Headmaster. Those talks were mainly reserved for Dumbledore three prize troublemakers, or favorite students, or students most in danger of dying—however you wanted to look at it. So, it was with some nervousness that Neville walked over.
"Why don't you and I go inside and have a cup of tea? You don't mind, do you, Molly?" asked Dumbledore.
"Of course not, Albus, help yourself to anything."
By now, most everything was back inside and Mrs. Weasley ushered all her children—including Harry and Hermione included—upstairs so Neville and Dumbledore could talk alone in the kitchen. For some reason, that made Neville even more worried. Dumbledore pulled out a chair and sat down, and Neville followed suit.
"How are you today, Neville?" Dumbledore asked, relatively cheerful. He conjured a steaming pot of tea. "Milk or honey in yours?"
"Milk, please, sir."
"Two lumps of sugar?"
"Three if you wouldn't mind…"
"Not at all! Exactly the way I drink mine." He poured the tea into a cup for Neville, and one for himself.
Neville sipped it experimentally. It was perfect. Exactly as he liked it. "Thank you. Sir."
"So, how are you? You didn't answer my question."
Neville was tempted to say "fine", but they both knew that would be a lie. He couldn't be fine. "As well as can be expected, I suppose." Something just struck him. "How's Uncle Algie? Is he alright?"
"He's doing as well as can be expected. He's trying to handle the funeral arrangements. It should take place this Friday. Fortunately your grandmother left most of her instructions in writing."
Neville shut his eyes against the unbidden image of his Gran lying stiff in a big black box without her hat or handbag. Much to his own surprise, he asked, "Do I have to go?"
"No. But I'd recommend it. Funerals aren't for the dead, you know," he said gently. "They're for the living. So the living can help each other get through life without a loved one. Even if you don't feel the need to go for your own sake, perhaps your great-uncle needs you there. He'll need a rock to support him. Be his rock, Neville."
"Me? Be a rock? I'm sorry, Professor, but you've got the wrong guy. I'm nobody's rock. Nobody's support. I can't even hold myself up. I don't know how I'm getting through this as it is."
"Well, then maybe you need a rock of your own. Find one. You have no close friends, Neville. I'm not so dotty as everyone thinks," the old man said levelly.
"But who? You're right. I don't have any friends. No close friends at any rate. Even my toad is gone now," he said bitterly.
"Anyone, Neville. Anyone at all. Mrs. Weasley is a very comforting person if you'll let her in. Or maybe an older brother figure like Bill or Charlie. I had several brothers myself. Or even just a friend."
Neville said nothing. He didn't know what to say. His Headmaster was sitting here and telling that he needed to find some friends. How was he supposed to respond to that?
"Molly was very adamant in her letter to me about keeping you here this summer. If there's another place you'd rather be, let me know. I'm sure something can be arranged. If not, I think you'll have quite an enjoyable summer here."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, thinking about his plants again. He really should have gone and watered them today. The fritzwick bush he got last month as an early birthday present needed trimming everyday or it doubled in size…
"Neville, I know I probably just sound like an old badger, but if you need to talk, let me know when you're ready. I'm a very good listener. Your parents, your grandmother, the Department of Mysteries, your classes, or absolutely anything at all. And if you don't feel comfortable talking to me, find someone to talk to. Someone you can confide in. It really will help. Keeping it bottled up inside only starts to destroy you from the inside out. I've been there too many times and seen it only too late."
"Yes, sir," Neville replied, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He'd never had such a long conversation with Dumbledore before. The only two conversations he'd had with the Headmaster that really stuck out in his mind were in first year when he'd asked Dumbledore to please not tell anyone about his parents, and then a brief conversation back at Hogwarts after what happened at the Department of Mysteries last June; he wasn't even alone on that conversation because Luna was there as well.
Dumbledore suddenly looked very tired. "Go on and get some rest. You look almost as exhausted as Harry."
"Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore."
"Goodnight, Neville."
Neville trudged up the stairs until a hand shot out of one of the doors and grabbed him, spinning him around as another hand was clamped over his mouth. His eyes widened in fear for a moment until he realized it was only Ginny.
"Sorry," she whispered. "I wanted to make sure I got to talk to you. I didn't want to accidentally wake Hermione." She took her hand off his mouth and pulled the door shut quietly so they stood on the staircase together.
"Okay."
"What did Dumbledore want? I tried to listen, but Mum came and shut the door. I wish I knew where the Extendables were, but I think she found my last stash," Ginny said ruefully.
Neville looked at her, confused. "Extendable what?"
"Ears. Don't ask. Anyway, what did he want?"
"He wanted to tell me that…that Gran's…" He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "That Gran's funeral is on Friday. I don't know if I'm going."
"Why not?" she asked curiously.
"I'm not sure," he said carefully. He thought to himself, Because if I go, then I have to admit that she's really gone. I can't do that. Not yet.
"Are you going back tomorrow?"
"I have to. Wednesday is almost over now and my plants haven't been watered since Monday. I didn't really get a chance to do anything before I left yesterday…"
"I'm coming with you." It wasn't a question. It wasn't an offer. It was simply a statement of fact.
"What? Where?"
"I'm coming with you to pack your things. You're staying here, aren't you? You can't want to go back to that empty house alone. Even if you think you want to, it can't be a good idea. I'm going with you."
"You don't have to, really…"
"Didn't you just hear me? Wasn't I loud and clear? I'm coming. That isn't the kind of thing that anybody should have to deal with alone. We're not going to let Harry deal with his grief alone either. We've already sorted it out amongst ourselves. Ron, Hermione, and me, that is. Nobody has to be alone. People are alone because they alienate themselves. Sometimes we all need to be alone to blow off some steam; but as a steady diet, it's just no good for anybody. Believe me, I know."
Neville just shrugged.
"Don't try and get up early and sneak off without me. I'm a light sleeper and I'll be able to hear you coming down these stairs. They creak."
Neville didn't say anything.
"You don't believe me, but just try and leave without me. It won't work, I promise you." She glared at him a moment, daring him to contradict her. When he didn't, she changed the subject. "Tomorrow we're going to have Hermione intervene with Harry and tell him most of what I just told you. About not bottling up emotions and talking through grief and letting your friends in. You are almost as bad at that sort of thing as he is." She shrugged. "It's like I told you earlier, you two have a lot in common. Most people wouldn't notice it, but…" She sighed, leaving her sentence unfinished. "Goodnight. Get some sleep."
"Alright. You too, Ginny." When he was a few feet away, and she'd turned to go back inside her room, he added, "Ginny?"
"Yeah?" She looked up at him.
"Thanks for bringing me here. I…I think it was a good idea."
She grinned. "We'll see if you're saying the same thing after Quidditch with my brothers tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."
"Alright." Neville found his way back to Ron's room at the top of the stairs and opened the door.
"Hey, Neville, what'd Dumbledore want?" asked Ron.
"Just asking if I was settling in alright." Lying again, Neville thought. How many times am I going to do that tonight? "What'd he want with you, Harry?"
"Just to talk about Sirius, and the Department of Mysteries, and stuff." The ending was lame, and all three of them knew it.
Neville saw that his pajamas from the night before were lying on his bed and he got changed while Ron and Harry continued to discuss possible team sets for playing Quidditch the next day.
Neville shut his eyes and lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come.
After about twenty minutes, Ron asked, "Neville?"
Neville didn't answer.
"Good. He's asleep. We can start talking now. I wonder what his real reason for coming is."
"Maybe it's got something to do with Dumbledore. It seemed like they were talking for a pretty long time, mate."
"I know, but I think there's got to be something more to it."
"Do you think Dumbledore sent him here for safekeeping? Like me?"
"Why would he?"
"Even if wasn't already a target, coming with us to the Department of Mysteries last year probably made him one."
"I suppose that's true. Why else would he be a target?" Ron demanded, sensing there was information he hadn't been told.
"I don't want to talk about it yet. Alright?" Harry said quietly, almost too quiet for Neville to hear him.
"Alright, Harry. But it's no good to keep everything bottled up inside."
Harry let out a snort of disgust. "Do all of you read the same handbook? Do you know how many letters I got with those exact same words?"
"Come on, Harry. How often do I ever really read?" Ron asked, jokingly, to get his friend back on civil terms.
"Never, as long as you've got Hermione nearby to tell you everything you want to know," he teased.
"More like everything I don't want to know."
"You've got a point. But why's he here?"
"I don't know, but just sitting here talking isn't going to help anything. Maybe Hermione knows something. We can ask her in the morning."
"Hermione would never know something and just not tell us."
"What about the time-turner?"
"That was different. McGonagall and Dumbledore weren't letting her tell anybody."
"Maybe they're not letting her tell anybody about why Neville is here either."
"It's a little farfetched…"
"Nothing's ever too farfetched. We'll work on this in the morning."
"All right. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Satisfied that they were done talking about him behind his back, Neville fell asleep.
