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-XXX-
Harry spun around to face whoever had addressed him, nearly tripping over Ron and almost sideswiping Neville.
'I don't have time for this shit. Heather-feather's Flying lesson starts in less than fifteen minutes and I need to be there! 'feather sometimes gets really scared of heights!' He thought rather grumpily as he readjusted his bag a little. "Can I help you?" He asked shortly.
The girl- ah, she was a Prefect like Percy- stepped forward slowly showing her hands like some sort of blackjack dealer. "I have something sensitive that I need to speak with you about. It's rather pressing." Her expression twisted a little. "I can understand you wanting to have a friend with you, but it's rather…..personal business.
'Family business likely.' Harry thought, not particularly worried for his own safety after Heather's little display with Yaxley.
Harry sighed gustily, but Heather had taught him to never ignore a person who seemed to be genuinely in need. And his instincts told him that this girl was being genuine.
Sort of.
Instincts were hard to explain!
"Fine." Harry gave Ron a look. "Remember how the good guys sometimes have to split up in 'feather's stories? This is one of those times." Harry stepped forward and laid a hand against Ron's shoulder. "I'll share with you everything I can later, but of the two of you, you're better on a broom Ron. So I need you to look out for my sister while I deal with this, ok? I'm not trying to make a statement or anything, but we gotta split up to keep our bases covered."
Ron still seemed a bit mulish but nodded slowly before sending more last apprehensive look towards the girl and turning away. "If I see Perce I'll send him this way, yeah?"
"Good plan, I like it!" Harry replied with far more cheer, happy when the tense lines in Ron's shoulders seemed to fade out. "Alright being my backup, Nev my man?"
Neville blinked and seemed to stumble a little, reddening around his ears and cheeks. "O-of course."
Harry nodded is satisfaction and slung a friendly arm over Neville's- much taller, rude- shoulders. "Well, let's get this show on the road, then!"
-XXX-
"So let me get this straight." Harry said, rubbing the bridge of his nose and absently wishing Mallie was here so he could have something to do with his hands. "You want 'feather and I's help to essentially topple a tyrant and put your little brother in his place? And to help maneuver your brother into a position of stability; or at least a strong enough one that won't see you and your siblings end up as indentured servants to another House. Like the Malfoys.""
The girl blinked at him- probably about his phrasing- but then nodded affirmatively. "Essentially, yes."
Harry's first instinct was to run for Heather, but he resisted.
Not because he didn't want her help, but because he'd spent a lot of time talking to Aunt Cassie, Sirius, Grandfather, and even Remus- though not nearly as much, as the man had only showed up to the Potter Party Sunday afternoon- about how to help keep Heather from overburdening herself.
Again.
Harry also felt a little bit of kinship towards the girl. He'd spent his whole life watching Heather run interference with Petunia and Vernon, and as the protected younger sibling he'd also seen how stressed and exhausted the constant struggle had made his sister.
At the same time, 'feather hadn't raised an idiot.
This situation needed reviewed by people far more savvy than himself. Since his sister was out- for obvious reasons- he'd start with Aunt Andy. Aunt Andy had been raised a Black and then had gone against her Family to marry Uncle Ted- and she'd survived the whole Blood War as a 'blood-traitor'! If anyone was qualified to dissect the situation and- if it proved to be a true story and not some lame gimmick or a nefarious plot of some sort- then get Aunt Cassie and Grandfather on board, it was Aunt Andy!
"Ok, this is what we're gonna do." Harry decided after a long moment's worth of consideration. "You-" He gestured to the girl….Anastasia he was pretty sure her name was, but don't quote him on that. "-are gonna write a letter to my Aunt Andy- that's Andromeda Tonks- and lay out all your reasons, free and clear. I'll get some special correspondence paper from Heather, Aunt Cassie made sure she had stuff like that packed before we came back."
The girl grimaced and Harry held up a hand to cut her off.
"You're going to write the letter in the Library." He clarified easily, shifting his bag a bit.
How did Heather do this all the time?! This crap was annoying!
"The excuse is that Heather wants to ask some questions- which she probably will- and…hm, I can have Percy ask you around witnesses?" He offered, trying to sound far more confident than he felt once he noted her deepening frown.
"That would be greatly appreciated, thank you." She replied sincerely, letting out a quiet breath of relief. "Percy and I often get paired up on rounds- we're Prefects in the same Year- so him asking wouldn't raise any suspicions."
"'Kay. Uh- hold on. Wait." 'Note to self- get better at this kind of thing.' Harry tilted his head to his side and thought for a moment. "Look, I'll ask Percy what would be easier for him, but he'll either bring your 'round to the Library or to the ….sports room. We're there a lot, too. Either way, it'll give you an opportunity to write your letter in relative peace and Heather will send it off with our….secure mail method."
'Also known as Tansy the Awesome.' Harry tacked on inside his own mind.
"Aunt Andy will get in contact with Aunt Cassie- who is 'feather's senior assistant and brilliant- and then she'll give us advice. Well, I suppose we could send it directly to Aunt Cassie, but Aunt Andy might have some perspective that would help. And she's Sirius' Healer, so she's at Blackmoor Hall quite a bit anyways." Harry shrugged a little and shifted his weight a bit. "And she'll consult other Family members, too. So we won't be getting a shoddy plan of attack or anything. This sort of thing is way harder than just 'off with his head' and then- boom- epilogue." Harry told the girl seriously, years of hearing Heather's stories and learning by example putting a mature layer of certainty into the words. "This is going to take planning, going back to the drawing board a couple times- first contact rules and everything- and plenty of nerve and cunning. This is going to be hard work, you understand that, right?"
Anastasia- he was pretty sure that was her name, but he didn't want to say it and be wrong- nodded, seeming resolute.
Ugh. This was taking forever!
"It seems sort of backwards and convoluted, but all of those people are Family." Harry gave the girl a fierce glower. "And I need all of their opinions before I decide what to do." Harry blinked a few times and grinned good-naturedly. "And how to do it."
"Fair enough." The girl replied with a hesitant smile. "I'll be sure to pay extra attention to Percy."
"Sounds good." Harry chirped, slinging an arm around Neville and heading for the door. "Gotta go! Later!"
Then they were out of the room and heading through the halls towards the quidditch pitch.
-XXX-
A few hallways and a shortcut later, Harry abruptly stopped and pulled Neville into an unused room, waving his wand at the door and unleashing a short string of incantations Neville didn't understand.
But Neville would look back someday and jokingly say, 'and that was the beginning of my involvement in the Potter-Black Mayhem'.
Apparently satisfied, Harry tucked his wand away and turned to Neville, his green eyes sharp and serious. "Look, man, I'm sorry you sorta got dragged into this, but I really need your help with something. Will you hear me out?"
Neville was…..speechless.
Harry Potter asking him- him!- 'squibby' Neville Longbottom….for help?
This was…..bizarre.
"I-I don't think I'd be much good." Neville whispered shamefully, dropping his gaze to the floor and cursing his weak magic.
Today had been going so well, too!
He'd been recruited- along with the other First Year boys and the Weasley brothers- to help make sure Harry's sister never walked anywhere alone.
"Like, don't smother her- she gets really grouchy when that happens!- but I don't want to take any chances, you know?" Harry said with a frown as he scrubbed a hand through his unruly hair. "I mean, 'feather can totally take care of herself, but I'd rather she not have to. And I just have this feeling that there are those who are just waiting for Heather to be alone to corner her- for one reason or another." He sighed and crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed in distaste. "I'd just rather not give them a chance. She doesn't show it, but the Yaxley Incident really shook her."
They'd all agreed. And then Harry had asked him- Neville Longbottom!- to watch his back while they talked to a much older Slytherin student! No one had ever even implied that Neville was good enough with magic to be worth of such trust.
Well, Gran believed in him, but she also tended to call him 'Frank' sometimes.
Aunt Callidora always said that Gran had never been the same since his parents had been attacked. Not many people knew that Augusta Longbottom had been visiting that night and lost her husband as well as her son and daughter-in-law.
Gramps used the Longbottom Family Magics to save Gran, using them to transfer the slow-moving curses that were killing both of them to himself and to transport both Neville and his Gran to one of the Family Safe Rooms.
Bertram Longbottom was the only Lord Longbottom in the past hundred and fifty years to be cremated, to ensure that no lingering effects lingered in his corpse. They had even had to- under duress- hire a Necromantic Absolver to check to make sure there hadn't been a Line Curse laid down as well.
There had been.
So, while still reeling from a brush with death, suffering from Marriage Bond Bereavement, and having been unable to leave the Safe Room until Great-Uncle Algie came and unlocked the wards- nearly a full day later- Gran had had to make a terrible choice.
Her grandson's and daughter-in-law's lives or the slimmest possibility of salvaging her son's sanity?
The Family Magics were weakened greatly from the abrupt loss of their Lord and Master, and Neville's father- Frank- hadn't thought to- or had been unable to- use them to save himself and Alice.
Given that they were Aurors, Aunt Callidora always said that they chosen to fight.
Auntie Callidora was the one who had explained to him that his parents hadn't been being reckless- as some liked to complain within Neville's hearing, especially during parties- but that his parents had cared deeply for him. And that it was their love for him that gave them the courage to fight the Death Eaters that attacked that night. Auntie Callidora steadfastly proclaimed that Frank and Alice Longbottom had been trying to do their duty- to serve the people and protect the innocent- that night.
"Upholding one's Oaths in the face of certain death is nothing to be ashamed of." Aunt Callidora tutted disapprovingly when she'd found him huddled behind a pillar, trying his best to cry without making any noise whatsoever, terrified of disrupting the Bones' Yule party with his snotty face. "And don't let any of those old biddies try and tell you otherwise! Now tell Auntie Callidora who she needs to eviscerate, little one."
Aunt Callidora had always been Neville's confidant. The older lady often inviting him to tea after he and Gran had gone to visit his parents at Saint Mungoes. Gran usually needed some alone time afterwards and Aunt Callidora would patiently listen to him talk about his visits without judgement. Sometimes Gran would get terribly angry about their little tea times and then pretend as if she hadn't gone on a nasty tirade the next day, which had confused the heck out of little Neville.
One day, he'd worked up the nerve to ask her why Gran seemed to resent Aunt Callidora and Neville's relationship sometimes.
"Because we suspect that the Line Curse, unfortunately, mostly came from Belllatrix." Aunt Callidora sighed heavily, her eyes dreadfully forlorn. "Bellatrix was- is, I suppose- as brilliant as she was ruthless. Losing her so-called 'Lord' would have made her especially so, and the madwoman they dragged before the Tribunals was a twisted parody of the girl I once knew." Aunt Callidora shook her head sadly and fussed with the tea service. "She paid a heavy, heavy price to invoke such a powerful Curse. Those boys were also….touched. I don't know what sort of preparations she made beforehand, but that Line Curse she laid down against House Longbottom was the strongest, most intricate that Madam Sangiunar said she'd ever seen, and she's rumored to be nearly two millennia old!"
Neville's eyes had gone wide as saucers, but he'd stayed quiet.
"I contributed a great deal to the breaking of the Line Curse- and I've been a firm and vocal supporter of the anti-You-Know-Who efforts- so Gussie tries to ignore the fact that I was born into the same House that caused her to lose so much." Aunt Callidora's eyes seemed to glisten for a moment before she blinked the moisture away firmly. "At any rate, we managed to overcome most of the Line Curse Conditions, but I'm afraid it had consequences." Aunt Callidora reached across the table and gripped Neville's small hands firmly, giving him one of those no-nonsense glowers she was infamous for. "And don't you- even for a moment- doubt that your Gran loves you with all her heart, soul, and magic. Just like your Gramps and your parents. The results of Absolving the Line Curse were ones we gladly paid and don't you ever think otherwise."
It was the one bit of advice he'd never quite managed to take to heart, out of all the advice that Aunt Callidora had given him over the years.
But Neville wasn't sure-
"Look, man." Harry had walked closer and gripped Neville's shoulders in that type of firm, reassuring grip that Neville had seen other father's do to their sons and he'd always wanted to experience himself.
That it came from a classmate was a bit disorienting, but it didn't make the gesture any less warm or moving.
'Don't cry!' He ordered himself firmly. 'Don't you dare cry!'
"-that's fine. But I really think that you'd be the best guy for this job, ya know?" Harry grinned a little but his eyes were still serious. Sharp. "Just invite her down to the greenhouses while you garden. Heather can do that whole 'I'm here but I'm also not intruding' thing really well. It's give her some peace and quiet and you some company." Harry's grin faltered for a moment and he stepped back, finally releasing Neville's shoulders and rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. "I mean, only if it won't rain on your parade, I know some people have…..issues with that kind of stuff. Just think about it, yeah?"
Harry had stepped back and waved his wand at the door, opening it up and beckoning Neville to follow before Neville finally managed to squeak out an answer-
But Neville would always remember that conversation as the Turning Point.
Occasionally with far less fondness than most other times.
-XXX-
Heather eyed the piece of fancy cleaning equipment warily.
She was entirely unsure about this.
While she wasn't scared of heights- per se- she wasn't overly fond of them either. Knowing she could control the broom was nice, but Heather tended to get distracted, what is she flew into a tree?
Or worse, the castle?
Speaking of the castle, she'd had a surprisingly easy time walking the halls since her return. Well, she never seemed to walk the halls alone and Harry, Chromie, and Mallie seemed united in their quest to keep her distracted and secure-feeling.
There was a bit of trepidation- and quite a bit of effort to haul herself out of bed- but she was managing.
Mostly.
'Fake it 'til you make it.'
Heather was dealing, ok!?
Madam Hooch- and she really did look like a hawk; were Veela the only humanoid-type species?- blew her whistle and ordered them to command their broom to their outstretched hands.
"Up." Heather ordered with the same sort of firmness that she used when she called for Tansy.
And the dam thing propelled itself upwards so quickly it stung the dickens out of her hand. "Ow!" She yelped as she shook her hand and glared at the bobbing broom. "That hurt."
Heather felt the childish urge to kick the stupid thing in its broom-head.
"Hey, Heather!" Ron hollered as he skidded to a stop near her, huffing and puffing as if he'd run a great distance. "Harry got…er, caught up in something, so he asked me to fill in for him."
Heather- still annoyed with the broom- let the lame explanation slide. Harry had been spending a bit more time with the Weasley twins they had come back, so she wouldn't pry.
Not when she was trying to light the broom on fire with the sheer strength of her gaze, at least.
"Thanks, Ron." Heather replied, still shaking out and rubbing feeling back into her abused hands. "I appreciate your support, even if my brother's a chronic worrywart." She shot the boy a quick smile and ruffled his wild hair playfully. "I can, occasionally, find my way to the Great Hall and the tower."
Ron grinned and straightened up. "Yeah, well, what are brothers for, then?"
Heather laughed and finally put her hand back on the bobbing and impatient seeming broom. "Ok. Me and you, broomy. Let's do this." Then she resolutely slung a leg over the stupid thing and was surprised to feel what reminded her of a cross between a bike seat and a saddle.
Nana Anna and Gramps had had friends in the country, so the twins had actually ridden ponies a few times. Horses, too, but they had only been allowed to ride with an adult behind them or holding the reins for them.
Also, Heather loved Aunt Cassie's skirts. The crazy things seemed to sense the broom or something and parted into two sections, which allowed Heather to not fear for the sanctity of her undergarments.
Eh, magic.
"Here." Ron said, readjusting her grip and then helping her fit properly into the bloody invisible stirrups. The stupid things were rather flimsy and made to move around, so it was sort of difficult given Heather's thick soled boots and the voluminous fabric of her skirt. "There." Ron pronounced, satisfied after a few long moments of fussing. "Now, you're in 'hover mode' right now, so you just need to flex your ankles to engage 'fly mode'." Ron stepped back a bit. "Charlie always said that good brooms more react to the instincts of your magic- 'cause it gets in everything we do?- than any actual commands, so that's how I learned. I mostly just try and keep my mind focused on which direction and stuff I want go and it just….does it?" Ron's ears reddened a bit and he coughed awkwardly. "'Emergency landing' is three thumps with your fist on any part of the broom."
"Okay." Heather replied, swallowing thickly and trying to mentally prepare herself.
After another minute of dallying and an encouraging 'thumbs up' from Ron, Heather flexed her ankles firmly.
And-
Heather laughed a bit breathlessly as she took off, sailing upwards in a gentle slope and marveling at the earth disappearing underneath her.
It was just so easy. Even with her glasses!
She whooped in delight and spiraled downwards, pulling up in plenty of time and then shooting back into the air. She repeated her actions several time, and with each repetition her actions smoothed. She lost count fairly quickly- and didn't notice her absent maneuvering around her fellow fliers- and completely lost track of all sense of time until she heard her brother catcalling her from somewhere down below.
"GO 'FEATHER!" Harry was hollering like an idiot. "WOOHOO!"
Soon enough her brother had found a broom and the twins took turns racing each other, spinning around in maneuvers that should have been somewhat dangerous but were simple extensions of their everyday interactions.
By the time Heather registered Madam Hooch blowing her whistle and the twins raced towards the ground- Harry won only because Heather didn't want to crash and somehow end up in Madam Pomfrey's care again- she was red-cheeked from the wind and smiling from ear to ear. Her feet touched the grass and Ron came over to help her off the hovering broom- her legs were so sore!- and she wrapped him up in a huge hug before placing a loud, smacking kiss against his cheek. "Best. Teacher. Ever." She informed him brightly as he flailed in her hold.
"I think it might have something to do with natural talent, too." Madam Hooch spoke up from behind Heather, causing the girl to tip her back to look at the teacher upside-down. "But having my teaching expertise praised is always nice."
Heather- far too happy and relaxed to care overmuch- gave Madam Hooch a thumb up. "The technical data was very helpful-" Heather nodded firmly, as if it was a very solemn bit of information. "- but Ron's tips really helped, too!"
Madam Hooch smirked crossed her arms. "Well, far be it from me to take all the credit." She grinned at the very red-faced Ron, who Heather had yet to let go of. "Well, as my new little assistant, you can lock up Mister Weasley."
Madam Hooch tossed the gaping Weasley boy a key attached to a string. "Make sure to space them apart so the bristles don't get bent!" The woman hollered cheerfully before she left them alone with the scattered brooms.
Granted, there was only about five of them, but the shed was all the way across-
Oh.
'Madam Hooch, you are an awesome lady!'
"Last one to the shed is a rotten egg!" Heather sing-songed as she hopped back on her broom. "Come on, Nev! It's me and you against the Worrywarts!"
Heather led Neville across the pitch, a wide grin on her face and the cries of 'we are not!' ringing in her ears.
She and Neville lost, but even he was laughing as he half hopped, half-fell of his broom near the shed.
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Please leave a comment on your way out if you enjoyed~!
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