Steven ran around the house with a paper airplane, which just so happened to be his first Hogwarts letter. He whooped and jumped as he took his airplane on a harrowing journey. He had cropped blonde hair and intense blue eyes and twinkled with mischievous happiness. His twin brother Jason, on the other hand, sat quietly on the patterned maroon couch. His little hands clung to the edge of the seat as his eyes followed his brother's glee in a mix of envy and sadness.
"Where's my letter?" he had questioned his mother and father, but they had nothing to say to him except "Go with Steven."
"He's-He's a-But how?" Margaret Pence stammered. Her husband, John, wrapped his arm around her for support as she shrunk in size. They both stood in their tidy, black and white tiled kitchen.
"Margaret," whispered John lovingly, "This isn't our fault."
"But it feels like it is. What will we tell people?" she said with eyes rounded in fear, shame swelling in her chest. John grabbed her shoulders with both hands so that he could look firmly into her dark brown eyes.
"We don't. We tell them he got his letter. Nobody has to know," he turned to look over his shoulder at the brown haired 11-year-old on the couch, "that Jason is a squib."
Neville and Dean walked out of Kingsley Shacklebolt's office and headed straight to the Auror Department of the Ministry of Magic. This wing of the ministry was difficult to access; the pair went through several identification stop points before reaching the round desk in the center of the lobby.
A woman with flaming red hair piled high on her head and almond shaped brown eyes greeted the two handsome men with an impish grin.
"Mindy, Mindy, Mindy," cooed a slick Dean Thomas as he bent over the desk to take a better look at the stunning ginger woman behind it. She rolled her eyes but could not suppress her smile, gathering papers and straightening them so as to ignore his flirtations. "Are you free on Saturday?"
She threw a glance at him and then cleared her throat.
"How many I help the two of you?"
"We need to see Greene, is she in?" Neville asked.
"No, I'm afraid she is out of her office.
"Did she leave our assignments behind?" he added. The secretary checked around her desk for any floating memos, or manila envelope while shaking her head.
"Dammit," cursed Neville, frustrated with the lack of direction and sense of duty.
"I guess we'll hang around then?" Dean quipped, winking at Mindy while turning on his heel to walk alongside his partner. "Hey! Where you off to?"
"I'll be back. There's something I have to do," Neville said confidently, staring forward and walking a tad bit faster than Thomas on his long legs. They walked down the corridor that led to the elevators.
"Well, do you mind letting me in a bit?"
"Just stay here," Longbottom replied. He simply turned on the spot, faced his partner and nodded at him, before spinning into himself and into nothingness.
The auror popped under the sparkling shade of ice-covered tree. Frozen snow crunched under his feet and a biter cold wind immediately pierced his cloak. He walked up the backyard's path that led to a wooden door, which opened before he even had a chance to knock.
"Hermione!" he greeted with a smile. The brunette in front of him had her curly hair in a messy low bun, and her eyes had dark circles forming beneath them. She quickly embraced him in a warm hug that melted the cold skin beneath his clothing.
"It's so good to see you, Neville! Please come in," she said, pulling gently at his arm. He stepped through the threshold and exhaled happily. The home, so neatly made and set up, had the quiet crackle of a fire and the comforting scent of baked banana bread wafting through the air. "May I take your cloak?"
"Er, yes," he answered, removing the heavy article of clothing and handing it to her. She put it up behind the front door on a knob. She then turned to him once more, admiring her friend.
"How long has it been?" Hermione said softly. She had never noticed how handsome Neville was. Years of auror work had changed him since she last saw him at her wedding. His featured had sharpened and a 5 o'clock shadow brought attention to his strong jawline.
"Too long, I'm thinking," he muttered as he blushed, following Hermione into the kitchen. He sat at the table and watched as she filled a kettle with water and turned on the stove. She then took out a covered metal tin out of the oven. "Anyway, I'm sorry to barge in like this, no announcement, but I really needed to see that you and Ron were okay. Where is he, by the way?"
"Work," she said, setting down a plate of neatly sliced, warm banana bread on the table along with a teacup with chamomile tea. "Is everything okay?" Worry colored her face. She sat across from him.
"That's what I wanted to know from you."
"Have you heard about Harry?" she asked, her voice small and he nodded as he leaned forward in his chair towards her.
"Listen, I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to tell you anything."
"But you're here, Neville. You have to tell me what you know, please," she said nervously, eyeing the regret that flashed across her friend's face. She did not want him to leave. Not yet.
"Do you have a quill?" he asked, throwing Hermione off.
"Er, yes, I have one. Hold on," she said before standing and walking into the living room. She brought back a muggle pen and a pad of paper.
"What is this?" Neville asked whilst turning the instrument he had never used before in his hand.
"A pen."
"Does it need ink?"
"The ink is inside," she said, suppressing a desire to laugh.
"That…is ingenious," he breathed, pressing the pen down on the pad of paper and drawing a doodle.
"What do you need it for?"
"I want to show you what the minister showed me," he said, turning to the next blank page. He immediately drew a five-pointed star, a pentagram.