Note: Sorry it took so long for this to arrive … My plot and I got separated at Wal-Mart. That was an ordeal, lemme tell you ... some other time. This schplitz (ah, you've been privy to a Roxyword) isn't much, and I was going to wait until I finished something significant to post, but alas …
Thanks for reviewing, Lolua, eat paper, Mia-xx, and, to any others that continue to follow that I forgot [insert name here ………….]. Bear with me through the Valley of Plotloss.
July 26: Beatings and Angry Brothers
"Ron! Ronnie!" I shouted, running up the stairs and into his second-floor apartment. The place was in shambles and I feared the worse. Then I saw him. My best friend was sitting under the window, head back, pinching his nose. "Are you okay?"
"I've been better, but I've been worse, too," he said in a nasally voice, his eyes looking over at me as I moved to kneel beside him.
"What happened?"
"The Russian."
"He did this to you?"
"Threatened to feed me to the flobberworms if I didn't butt out."
I frowned and Ron shrugged.
"I know it doesn't make sense, but he must have seen me watching him and Seamus in the bar earlier."
He released his nose and brought his head upright. A small trickle of blood dripped over his upper lip and he wiped it away on his sleeve. I held out my hand to help him up and had the urge to hug him.
Ron quirked an eyebrow at me.
"I didn't just almost die, so don't think it. There's no need to hug me."
"Here's your hat," I covered quickly, though it was much too late.
"Thanks."
He took his hat and adjusted it on his head, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket.
"I'll help you get this straightened up," I told him, replacing an upturned table.
"Yeah, Mione's coming back tonight."
"You'd better get cleaned up, then. I'll fix things here as best I can and you go wash up. I'll leave when I'm done."
"Thanks, Harry," he nodded and, looking at me, he patted my back. "For coming."
Hermione came home while I was cleaning up and immediately bombarded me with frantic questions.
"What's this? Where's Ron? Why's this broken? What's this scum on the floor? Why is your lace undone? Your shirt's buttoned improperly, why? Ronnie?!"
I tried to calm her down but she was in a dither casting repairing spells on picture frames, calling for Ron, and fixing my poorly buttons.
"Mione, it's okay."
"Ronnie?!" she shouted again. Ron scrambled into the living room, ginger hair dripping, a towel snug around his waist.
"Why does everybody call me Ronnie when they're worried about me?" he inquired, brushing the hair out of his eyes.
Hermione ran and hugged him
"Oh, Ron," she gasped.
"It's okay, baby, I'm fine. Harry came and made sure I was alright."
"Oh, Harry," the woman said, turning and embracing me.
I raised my eyebrows at my best friend and he retreated into the bathroom.
"I'll be out in a minute."
"I told you it was okay," I said quietly when she let me go and returned to her repairs.
"What happened?"
"I'm not quite sure, except that the Russian gave him a bloody nose. I saw a commotion through the window and ran over, but he was gone by the time I made it up the stairs," I informed her, frowning when my shoe slipped a little. There were mottled outlines of footprints in some sort of goop on the hardwood floor.
"I thought you said the Russian was a nice guy?"
Kneeling, I reached a hand to investigate the opaque slime.
"I was wrong."
"What?" she asked.
"I was wrong, I admit it." I was growing weary of her constant second-guessing my conduct.
"No, Harry. What's on the floor? I noticed it when I came in."
Rubbing the substance between my thumb and forefinger, I sniffed it. Blackcurrant?
"I thought it was flobberworm mucous, but …"
"But?"
"Now I'm not so sure."
"Then what is it?"
"I don't know. Smells like blackcurrants."
Hermione knelt beside me and grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand toward her.
"Let me see tha … Ignomormonos," she declared loudly, eyes wide with understanding. I jumped a little at her outburst, lost my balance and toppled over.
"Ignowhatanos?"
"Ignomormonos. It's a tonic for dry, cracked skin; quite effective actually."
I raised inquisitive eyebrows and she shrugged.
"My mother uses it. She just sent a bottle of it home with me. It's only produced in Blackcurrant scent."
Interesting.
I stood and followed the footprints to the door and saw that they went to the stair well. In my rush to the apartment, I hadn't even noticed them.
"Where are you going, Harry?" Ron asked from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that he had dressed, his hat slightly askew as he liked to wear it. I didn't answer and he followed me as I followed the footprints to the stairs. There were Ignomormonos tracks up from the lower floor and on the stairs to the third floor, a second set heading back down to the lower level.
A shriek sounded from the third floor.
"Is Luna here?" Hermione inquired, peering out the front door.
"Neville," I breathed, running up the stairs to see Luna Lovegood with her hand to her mouth gaping into Longbottom's apartment. Tentatively, I peered in the front door and deflated. My friend was laying face down in a pool of blood, pieces of a firewhiskey bottle scattered about him.
"Oh, Neville," I groaned, dropping to my knees next to him.
"Come here, Luna," I heard Ron say. Looking back, I saw him gather her into his arms and pull her away from the door. He reappeared a moment later and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"See if he's still here, Ron," I said, not looking away from the man on the floor. My partner nodded and left me. I reached out and carefully rolled Neville onto his back and patted his chest, starting to stand. Neville's hand clamped onto my forearm and pulled me down to the ground. I screamed, scrambling away and Neville screamed back, bolting upright. Ron came running back in.
"What is it … Aaaahhh!"
Neville screamed again. The three of us screamed at each other.
"You're dead!" I yelled.
"I'm not!" Neville yelled back.
"You're bleeding!" Ron shouted.
"I am?"
"Nevy!" Luna shrieked clomping into the room, Hermione on her heels. Luna lost her footing when she stepped into the puddle of blood and fell to the floor next to Neville with soft thud. "Ewww!"
Neville cringed.
"Can we stop yelling? My head is killing me. I feel like the morning after I've spent an intimate evening with firewhiskey."
Ron knocked the largest remaining part of the firewhiskey bottle with is foot and raised his eyebrows.
"You did."
Neville reached and touched his hand to his head, wincing when he found the gash above his right ear.
"What the hell happened to me?" he asked, wiping the blood from his fingers on his already stained shirt.
"You don't know?" I asked, getting to my feet and holding my hand out to him. I helped him up and he pulled Luna into his arms.
"Oh, Nevy, I thought I'd lost you," the woman breathed, embracing him and he blushed a little under the splotches of blood on his cheeks.
"Longbottom's don't give in that easy, baby, you know that. It'll take a lot more to take me out than a bottle of firewhiskey."
She smiled and wiped some of the blood from his lips, leaning up to kiss him.
"Hello?" I said loudly, reminding them that there was a conversation going on.
Luna frowned at me and Neville cleared his throat.
"Right, Harry, sorry. No, I don't know what happened. I had just come in when …" He furrowed his brow. "Well, when you woke me up. I don't remember anything."
"We should get you to the hospital."
"I should be fine," he disagreed, shaking his head a little, all the while blood continued to run down the side of his face.
"Neville, you're going to bleed to death if we don't get that wound closed."
Luna pressed her hand against the gash, trying to hold the blood in and he winced.
"Where's Ginny, then? Didn't she train as a healer after school?"
"Yeah, where is Ginny?" Ron wanted to know and Hermione quirked an eyebrow.
"Well, er, uh, she's with Malfoy right now."
Ron looked livid, eyes popping.
"Malfoy?!" he spat, "I thought she was moving in with you again!"
"She is … Tuesday. Ron it's nothing. We need to put something on that. Hermione, could you get a towel or something?"
Hermione bustled off and Ron began pacing.
"Tuesday?! What the hell is she waiting till Tuesday for? She's up to something, damnit," Ron muttered, rubbing his fingers over his chin and lower lip as he thought out loud.
"Really, she had good reason, Ron," I tried.
Hermione returned and started to hand it to Neville.
"Oh, thanks," Luna told her, taking the towel and, instead of using it on Neville, she wiped her hands clean and handed it back. Hermione was aghast and moved to press it to Neville's head.
"Thanks, Mione," he whispered, holding the towel himself.
"I'm going to find out what's going on in that ruddy little head of hers," Ron was saying, bitterly, "if it's the last thing I do."
With that, Ron snapped his fingers and stormed out of the room.
"Ron?" I questioned.
"Ron!" Hermione called and followed after him.
I sighed defeatedly.
"Come on, Neville. I'm taking you to the hospital."
Thanks for reviewing, Lolua, eat paper, Mia-xx, and, to any others that continue to follow that I forgot [insert name here ………….]. Bear with me through the Valley of Plotloss.
July 26: Beatings and Angry Brothers
"Ron! Ronnie!" I shouted, running up the stairs and into his second-floor apartment. The place was in shambles and I feared the worse. Then I saw him. My best friend was sitting under the window, head back, pinching his nose. "Are you okay?"
"I've been better, but I've been worse, too," he said in a nasally voice, his eyes looking over at me as I moved to kneel beside him.
"What happened?"
"The Russian."
"He did this to you?"
"Threatened to feed me to the flobberworms if I didn't butt out."
I frowned and Ron shrugged.
"I know it doesn't make sense, but he must have seen me watching him and Seamus in the bar earlier."
He released his nose and brought his head upright. A small trickle of blood dripped over his upper lip and he wiped it away on his sleeve. I held out my hand to help him up and had the urge to hug him.
Ron quirked an eyebrow at me.
"I didn't just almost die, so don't think it. There's no need to hug me."
"Here's your hat," I covered quickly, though it was much too late.
"Thanks."
He took his hat and adjusted it on his head, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket.
"I'll help you get this straightened up," I told him, replacing an upturned table.
"Yeah, Mione's coming back tonight."
"You'd better get cleaned up, then. I'll fix things here as best I can and you go wash up. I'll leave when I'm done."
"Thanks, Harry," he nodded and, looking at me, he patted my back. "For coming."
Hermione came home while I was cleaning up and immediately bombarded me with frantic questions.
"What's this? Where's Ron? Why's this broken? What's this scum on the floor? Why is your lace undone? Your shirt's buttoned improperly, why? Ronnie?!"
I tried to calm her down but she was in a dither casting repairing spells on picture frames, calling for Ron, and fixing my poorly buttons.
"Mione, it's okay."
"Ronnie?!" she shouted again. Ron scrambled into the living room, ginger hair dripping, a towel snug around his waist.
"Why does everybody call me Ronnie when they're worried about me?" he inquired, brushing the hair out of his eyes.
Hermione ran and hugged him
"Oh, Ron," she gasped.
"It's okay, baby, I'm fine. Harry came and made sure I was alright."
"Oh, Harry," the woman said, turning and embracing me.
I raised my eyebrows at my best friend and he retreated into the bathroom.
"I'll be out in a minute."
"I told you it was okay," I said quietly when she let me go and returned to her repairs.
"What happened?"
"I'm not quite sure, except that the Russian gave him a bloody nose. I saw a commotion through the window and ran over, but he was gone by the time I made it up the stairs," I informed her, frowning when my shoe slipped a little. There were mottled outlines of footprints in some sort of goop on the hardwood floor.
"I thought you said the Russian was a nice guy?"
Kneeling, I reached a hand to investigate the opaque slime.
"I was wrong."
"What?" she asked.
"I was wrong, I admit it." I was growing weary of her constant second-guessing my conduct.
"No, Harry. What's on the floor? I noticed it when I came in."
Rubbing the substance between my thumb and forefinger, I sniffed it. Blackcurrant?
"I thought it was flobberworm mucous, but …"
"But?"
"Now I'm not so sure."
"Then what is it?"
"I don't know. Smells like blackcurrants."
Hermione knelt beside me and grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand toward her.
"Let me see tha … Ignomormonos," she declared loudly, eyes wide with understanding. I jumped a little at her outburst, lost my balance and toppled over.
"Ignowhatanos?"
"Ignomormonos. It's a tonic for dry, cracked skin; quite effective actually."
I raised inquisitive eyebrows and she shrugged.
"My mother uses it. She just sent a bottle of it home with me. It's only produced in Blackcurrant scent."
Interesting.
I stood and followed the footprints to the door and saw that they went to the stair well. In my rush to the apartment, I hadn't even noticed them.
"Where are you going, Harry?" Ron asked from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that he had dressed, his hat slightly askew as he liked to wear it. I didn't answer and he followed me as I followed the footprints to the stairs. There were Ignomormonos tracks up from the lower floor and on the stairs to the third floor, a second set heading back down to the lower level.
A shriek sounded from the third floor.
"Is Luna here?" Hermione inquired, peering out the front door.
"Neville," I breathed, running up the stairs to see Luna Lovegood with her hand to her mouth gaping into Longbottom's apartment. Tentatively, I peered in the front door and deflated. My friend was laying face down in a pool of blood, pieces of a firewhiskey bottle scattered about him.
"Oh, Neville," I groaned, dropping to my knees next to him.
"Come here, Luna," I heard Ron say. Looking back, I saw him gather her into his arms and pull her away from the door. He reappeared a moment later and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"See if he's still here, Ron," I said, not looking away from the man on the floor. My partner nodded and left me. I reached out and carefully rolled Neville onto his back and patted his chest, starting to stand. Neville's hand clamped onto my forearm and pulled me down to the ground. I screamed, scrambling away and Neville screamed back, bolting upright. Ron came running back in.
"What is it … Aaaahhh!"
Neville screamed again. The three of us screamed at each other.
"You're dead!" I yelled.
"I'm not!" Neville yelled back.
"You're bleeding!" Ron shouted.
"I am?"
"Nevy!" Luna shrieked clomping into the room, Hermione on her heels. Luna lost her footing when she stepped into the puddle of blood and fell to the floor next to Neville with soft thud. "Ewww!"
Neville cringed.
"Can we stop yelling? My head is killing me. I feel like the morning after I've spent an intimate evening with firewhiskey."
Ron knocked the largest remaining part of the firewhiskey bottle with is foot and raised his eyebrows.
"You did."
Neville reached and touched his hand to his head, wincing when he found the gash above his right ear.
"What the hell happened to me?" he asked, wiping the blood from his fingers on his already stained shirt.
"You don't know?" I asked, getting to my feet and holding my hand out to him. I helped him up and he pulled Luna into his arms.
"Oh, Nevy, I thought I'd lost you," the woman breathed, embracing him and he blushed a little under the splotches of blood on his cheeks.
"Longbottom's don't give in that easy, baby, you know that. It'll take a lot more to take me out than a bottle of firewhiskey."
She smiled and wiped some of the blood from his lips, leaning up to kiss him.
"Hello?" I said loudly, reminding them that there was a conversation going on.
Luna frowned at me and Neville cleared his throat.
"Right, Harry, sorry. No, I don't know what happened. I had just come in when …" He furrowed his brow. "Well, when you woke me up. I don't remember anything."
"We should get you to the hospital."
"I should be fine," he disagreed, shaking his head a little, all the while blood continued to run down the side of his face.
"Neville, you're going to bleed to death if we don't get that wound closed."
Luna pressed her hand against the gash, trying to hold the blood in and he winced.
"Where's Ginny, then? Didn't she train as a healer after school?"
"Yeah, where is Ginny?" Ron wanted to know and Hermione quirked an eyebrow.
"Well, er, uh, she's with Malfoy right now."
Ron looked livid, eyes popping.
"Malfoy?!" he spat, "I thought she was moving in with you again!"
"She is … Tuesday. Ron it's nothing. We need to put something on that. Hermione, could you get a towel or something?"
Hermione bustled off and Ron began pacing.
"Tuesday?! What the hell is she waiting till Tuesday for? She's up to something, damnit," Ron muttered, rubbing his fingers over his chin and lower lip as he thought out loud.
"Really, she had good reason, Ron," I tried.
Hermione returned and started to hand it to Neville.
"Oh, thanks," Luna told her, taking the towel and, instead of using it on Neville, she wiped her hands clean and handed it back. Hermione was aghast and moved to press it to Neville's head.
"Thanks, Mione," he whispered, holding the towel himself.
"I'm going to find out what's going on in that ruddy little head of hers," Ron was saying, bitterly, "if it's the last thing I do."
With that, Ron snapped his fingers and stormed out of the room.
"Ron?" I questioned.
"Ron!" Hermione called and followed after him.
I sighed defeatedly.
"Come on, Neville. I'm taking you to the hospital."
