A Common Bond
Disclaimer: not mine. Really. All I own is the Chamber of Secrets soundtrack on CD. And the LOTR soundtracks. And the PotC one. And assorted other things. So really, don't sue.
A/N: this was originally going to be a one-shot – but then it kinda got a bit too long!!
Thanks to: lucidity, Lord Elrond of Hogwarts, CatClawz (very cool name! I like cats too!) and my first reviewer, MagickalStar135 *beams* Chocolate for you all!!!
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Chapter 2: Introducing Neville
One of the Healers injected Narcissa with some kind of sedative, and within a minute she had fallen into an induced sleep. Heather placed one hand on Draco's arm. "Perhaps you need a cup of tea," she suggested kindly.
Draco nodded dully, his mind whirling. He dazedly got to his feet just as the curtain around the opposite two beds was drawn back and two figures emerged – an older witch with a fox fur around her neck and a stuffed vulture on her hat, and a round-faced teenage boy of Draco's age.
"Longbottom? What are you doing here?" asked Draco in surprise.
Neville Longbottom jumped, met the other boy's gaze briefly and then shrugged. "I wouldn't really say that it's your business, Malfoy."
Draco caught a glimpse of the two patients in the beds behind Neville. "Are – are they your parents?"
"So what if they are?" Neville challenged.
"What – what happened? I had no idea…"
"Cruciatus Curse. Tortured to insanity, if you must know."
"By whom?"
"Your aunt Bellatrix."
Draco stumbled, mind reeling and blood suddenly coursing with violent hatred for this woman.
"Why are you here?" asked Neville.
Draco struggled to regain his composure. "My – my mother," he admitted almost inaudibly. He smiled slightly, half sadly, half sardonically. "Bellatrix Lestrange. Same method as on your parents. It'll be in the Prophet tomorrow, I should imagine, and then you and your little Gryffindor pals can laugh all you like."
"I won't say anything. Promise. If you don't, that is."
"Fine," replied Draco dully.
"Where will you live?" Your father's in Azkaban now, and he won't be getting out for a long time yet."
"With Aunt Andromeda, I expect. She's my closest living relative."
"Oh. Look, do – do you want to go for a cup of tea or something?" offered Neville awkwardly.
"Why would you want to go for a cup of tea with me?" asked Draco incredulously.
"We could…oh, I dunno…talk, maybe?"
Draco shrugged. "Don't s'pose it'd hurt much. I rather doubt I've got much of a reputation left now, thanks to my unhinged aunt."
Neville turned to the woman he was with – his grandmother. "Gran, I'll see you at home, OK?"
Mrs. Longbottom eyed Draco suspiciously. "Aren't you that Malfoy boy?" she demanded, her dislike and distrust perfectly apparent in both her tone of voice and her stance.
"Gran, that's his mum in the bed opposite!" Neville hissed.
Draco shrugged. "It's not your fault that my aunt's both insane and a complete bitch, Mrs. Longbottom."
"Hmmm." Neville's grandmother clearly wasn't at all convinced. Neville grabbed Draco's arm and began tugging him very firmly down the ward. "See you at home, Gran."
When the door of the Closed Ward shut behind them, Draco pulled free of the Gryffindor's grasp. "Hands off, Longbottom. Only Blaise Zabini gets to haul me anywhere."
"The tearoom's on the top floor," Neville informed him with the air of one who knew the place like the back of their hand. "Come on."
In silence, Draco followed. Neither he nor Neville spoke until they reached their destination. Neville pushed open the door. "Here we are. What do you want to drink?"
Draco shrugged dully, the numbness once again taking over. "Whatever."
Neville went up to the counter. "Two pots of tea, please."
The girl behind the counter smiled brightly. "Anything else?"
"Two jam doughnuts. We need them."
"On their way. Five minutes. Do take a seat."
Neville guided Draco to an empty table and the two sat down. The silence between them was awkward and Neville was relieved when the waitress appeared with the order and he paid. "So," he stated, pouring his tea.
"So?" Draco blinked at him.
"I'd ask if you were okay, but that's kind of a stupid question."
"Hmmm? Oh. Yeah. I s'pose."
"You know, staring at the teapot won't make it pour, even in the wizarding world," remarked Neville in a gently teasing voice.
"What? Oh. Right. No, I don't s'pose it will." Slowly, Draco reached out for the teapot, lifted it, moved it to just above the cup and poured. "You seem different from usual, Longbottom," he commented.
"Call me Neville; it's shorter."
"Oh. Okay."
"You don't really know me, Malfoy. But I suppose you're right…How am I different?"
"More mature. Less clumsy."
Neville smiled wryly. "True."
Draco hesitated. "How – how long have your parents…you know?"
Neville's face darkened. "Most of my life. I don't remember them the way they were before. I – I was here when they brought your mum in."
His words caused Draco to flinch and draw back as though he had been stung. It was almost impossible for him to form his next sentence. "What – what was she like?" he whispered, almost not wanting to hear the response.
Neville swallowed hard as he recalled the scene. "She – she was crying. Screaming. Fighting everyone. She was talking, but it was nonsense; just sounds. Babble, if you will. Didn't seem to know anything about herself, where she was…anything. They had to sedate her pretty heavily. They had to restrain her and she fought hard against the restraints. It was pretty scary." He paused. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. Really I am."
Draco nodded vaguely, only half-hearing the last words. He was thinking, imagining the scene as Neville had described it. His mother, yet not his mother. Death would have been far kinder. Why had she been denied it?
He suddenly became aware of a tissue being held out to him, and he realised with a start that he was crying. "Thanks," he mumbled, accepting it.
"What's happening with your father?" asked Neville carefully, knowing that he was approaching a very delicate topic.
"Multiple life sentences, I should imagine," Draco answered bleakly, staring into his untouched steaming tea. At least with his mother around, he'd been able to lead some sort of reasonably normal life. Now, though, it was likely that the Ministry of Magic would decide his fate – even though he was sixteen, he was still on the Hogwarts register, and that meant that decisions about things such as living arrangements were out of his control. And he wasn't looking forward to it.
He looked up at Neville again. "How do you feel? About my aunt, I mean."
Neville shrugged. "Dunno. I used to be angry, but at the same time glad, because she was securely locked away in Azkaban. Now, though…I'm angry with the Ministry – or more accurately, with Fudge – because of the Azkaban breakout. As for Bellatrix Lestrange…I don't know. I honestly don't." He was silent for a moment. "You?"
Draco sighed. "I don't feel much of anything right now. It still doesn't seem quite real yet. You know?"
"Yeah."
"Do – do you ever get used to it?"
"Used to what?"
"Your parents being like that."
Neville shrugged. "I don't know. I don't remember them the way they were. To me, they've always been like that. I don't have anything to compare it with. I think it's probably worse for you, because you've got to get used to something massively different."
"But at least I've had the good times," Draco pointed out.
"True," Neville conceded. "But I think that probably makes it harder, because you'll be longing for the good times, the way things were, and it's harder to accept that you'll never have those times again." He took a bite of his doughnut, noticing how Draco's hands shook as he picked up his cup, nearly spilling the tea. "You mentioned your other aunt?"
Draco looked up, startled. He'd forgotten about Neville, having been completely lost in his own thoughts. "Andromeda. Yeah. If she'll have me. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't, though. Who in their right mind would want to look after an evil kid of one of the most notorious Death Eaters around? Mind you, my cousin – her daughter – maintains that she can't be in her right mind because she got stuck with the horrendous name of Nymphadora." He put his cup down before he dropped it, so badly were his hands shaking. "Ouch!"
"Are you okay?"
"Spilled tea on my hand."
"Ah." Silence fell as the two munched their doughnuts – though in truth Draco did no more than nibble his. Instead they listened to the conversations going on around them. Neville couldn't help smiling at some of the tales that were being recounted in the tearoom.
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~TBC~