0o0o0o0
Harry's Heart - 3
"Why doesn't it work?" Amy Anderson burst out in frustration as the rest of the second years filed happily chattering out of the room. The Hufflepuff was still having troubles with the Protego spell, despite the fact that they'd moved on to other things. She usually lagged behind the class, though Harry was always happy to spend extra time with the girl to help her pick things up. She was bottom of the year in defence, but never gave up, and always appreciated his help. She was in his classroom bright and early every Sunday, working doggedly at her homework.
From the corner of his eye he spotted Hermione and Ron slip into the back of the classroom, but didn't let that distract him. Amy was almost there, the shape of her spell was much improved, though not yet strong enough to hold off his enchanted balloons. The practical lessons always ran over time, mainly because Harry couldn't bring himself to short any student who needed help.
"You're trying too hard," Harry said gently, "Remember, the tenser you get the more tangled the magic. Loosen your grip on your wand a little, that might help as well."
Amy took a deep breath and let it out, not relaxing very much as she gripped her wand once more.
"I thought that if I gripped it hard it wouldn't be taken away by the Expelliarmus spell," she frowned up at him and he grinned. She was always thinking things through, which was one of her more endearing traits.
"True, but the end of your wand needs to flick for Protego, and if you hold it too tightly you can't flick it properly. You have to find the balance," he demonstrated for her, and she copied the movement he made, "That's it, try again."
He lifted his wand and summoned a balloon towards them. Immediately her grip tightened and Harry froze the balloon in mid air when her shield failed to form at all.
"Too tight," he frowned and she scowled, a rare display of temper.
"This is stupid, they're just water balloons," she muttered, wiping her hands on her robe and picking up her wand again, "It's not like we'll ever be dodging them in real life."
"So I should shoot hexes at my students instead of water balloons?" Harry asked lightly, "You'll get me fired. Probably from a cannon."
Amy giggled and her shoulders dropped as she relaxed, imagining her teacher in a cannon. She put a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh though she knew her teacher wasn't really upset with her.
"Wonderful idea, Amy," Harry continued, watching her closely though he pretended not to, "There would be bits of me all over the place."
Amy laughed, and Harry sent three balloons zooming at her.
"Protego!!" the cry was sure and the shield formed perfectly in front of her, bursting all three balloons harmlessly, "I did it!"
"Five points to Hufflepuff," Harry praised her, "Now get out."
Amy laughed and practically skipped from the room, announcing her success to her friends who had waited for her. Harry grinned at the cheers and waved his wand to clean up the mess. He glanced down to where Ron and Hermione were sitting in desks, smart arse expressions on their faces and hands waving wildly in the air.
"Please, sir, may I try?" Hermione simpered and Harry obligingly pelted her and Ron with the remaining water balloons. His friends fended off the worst of the barrage, though a few got through.
"Git," Ron cast a drying spell on himself and then Hermione, who peeled a bit of burst balloon out of her hair, "We're going to the library to get on with McGonagall's homework. You coming?"
"Sure, just let me feed the plants and water the Grindylow," Harry sent the homework parchments flying up the short staircase to his office and adjusted the shutters so the plants would get the benefit of the full moon and early morning sunlight as well. He dropped mice in the plants pots and topped up the murky Grindylow's tank quickly, before glancing around one more time to be sure everything was ready for the first class of the day tomorrow.
"Harry," Hermione said as he picked up his bag and walked down the aisle to join them, "That was really amazing what you did. The look on her face as she left…"
"Yeah, you're a natural," Ron added and Harry felt warmed by their praise, "Even the way that Mathers kid came to you for help this morning…"
"Poor Mark," Harry sighed, "He's had some bad nightmares, and from what I can figure his dad always came and took care of him after. He seems to have latched on to me instead."
They fell silent as they walked through the busy corridors, knowing better than to discuss a student's private life in public. They found a small study table in the corner of the library and split up to find the books they'd need. This was a well-established procedure that Hermione had trained them in and Harry and Ron had learnt to keep the peace. They weren't exactly dunces, but neither were they studying fanatics.
Harry slipped easily into the routine of completing his homework with his friends. He and Ron usually kept a bit of old parchment between them so they could write notes to each other without disturbing Hermione or attracting the attention of Madame Pince. The afternoon slipped away quickly, and it wasn't until they were putting their things away that Hermione raised a question that Harry had never considered before.
"How did you know that Amy's shield spell would work? In fact, how did you know when it hadn't?"
"I can see the shape of the spell, and read it," Harry frowned, "I've been teaching myself Arithmancy… I finally understand why you were so fascinated with it Hermione. It makes everything a lot easier if you can properly read the shape of your spell and correct the way you cast it."
"Harry," Ron stared at him in shock, "We can't see our own spells."
For a horrifying moment Harry wondered if this was where Ron lost his temper and stomped away again. Something must have shown in his face because Ron shifted a little closer to him and met his eyes steadily. The gesture reassured Harry more than words ever could.
"That's incredible," Hermione didn't seem to notice the tension that had bloomed and then died in the wake of Harry's innocent reply, "I'm sure I've read about that somewhere."
"Of course you have," Ron snorted, and Harry grinned as well. Hermione had usually read something about whatever topic was under discussion. It was a comforting point of familiarity.
"You'll remember it I'm sure," Ron continued, "But not now, ok? It's dinner time."
That was a comforting point of familiarity too.
0o0o0o0
After some thought, the Headmaster gave Harry and Mark a set of matching leather bracelets, worn around the left wrist. Harry's would warn him when Mark needed him, and if it was at night Harry could just pop into the Slytherin common room in his Invisibility Cloak. Snape made a point of warning Harry against any pranks, tricks or traps, and Harry had refrained from rolling his eyes. He might have been the least subtle person Snape knew, but that didn't mean he was stupid enough to pull something when there was no way to cover his tracks.
Hermione and Ron got a bit of a surprise when they tried to renew the old patterns of their friendship and found that Harry was too busy to be instantly available to them. Hermione confessed that she hadn't realised how much she took for granted that Harry would be waiting for her and Ron to finish their stint at whatever Prefect task had been assigned them, and Harry made a point of not taking them for granted either. He didn't want them to feel like they were his back up friends or something.
Neville was naturally included in the renewed friendship. The formerly podgy boy had been a staunch supporter of Harry, though the green-eyed teen had made sure he wasn't interfering with Neville's normal social schedule. Having the three of them together to study with him made Harry ridiculously happy. He felt very rich at the moment, something that had nothing to do with his bank vault and everything to do with his friends.
He was informed in the second week of term that he had passed his first term of teaching. He knew that Professor Dumbledore was sneaking into his classroom at odd intervals invisibly and watching his lessons, and was relieved to know that he'd passed the Headmaster's requirements. Professor McGonagall sat in the back of the classroom for both a second and first year lesson, but she was visible and Harry had been terribly nervous. He was glad that the two classes she'd observed had been placid groups, not given to mucking about or being cheeky.
The first years had moved on to more complex shield spells and the second years were practicing basic disarming and a few attacking spells. Both classes were also learning more about the recognition and avoidance of various dark creatures, the same ones in fact as the second years hadn't covered them in their first. Harry would need a new lot for the second years next year, and was already planning it out. Hagrid had offered to help him procure specimens, and Professor Sprout had actually set aside a space in green house seven for Harry to start nurturing some more of his dark plants.
Voldemort was always at the back of Harry's mind, making small raids with his Death Eaters sporadically, and torturing Muggles and Wizards alike. The return of Ron and Hermione's friendship had not increased Harry's need for sleep, and he continued to distract himself with Arithmancy, now using a more advanced text than the one he'd bought. Hedwig had gone gladly on the errand for him, and continued to seek him out in his office when he was marking homework or preparing lessons. Their conversations were just as fascinating to Harry as before.
Hermione was continuing to comb the library looking for the book that had mentioned Wizards that could see spells. Harry and Ron played the part of her personal librarians without complaint, and at Ron's suggestion Harry had started to deliberately use the talent, calling it up when he was learning in class, as well as teaching, or in his short leisure time. He was finding it easier to decipher the spells and wards he was seeing, and the ability was definitely a bonus in his teaching.
Mark continued to cling to Harry for comfort. He sought Harry out of class time, and Ron had taken on the role of big brother to the Slytherin first year, something that Harry would never have dared suggest and was eternally grateful for. Ron could tease the occasional smile out of the orphaned boy, though Harry could make him giggle shyly. Hermione accepted his presence matter of factly, and Neville was long used to Harry's students coming to sit with him when they were in the library or a prep room.
In the end it was Mark who solved the mystery of where Hermione had read that reference, and all it took was her slamming a book shut and shoving it away in exasperation.
"I'll never find it," she muttered, propping her chin in her hands, "I'm sorry Harry, I just can't think where I read it!"
"Read what?" Mark asked curiously, his eyes big in his face. He'd never seen Hermione treat a book so badly and Harry grinned. Hermione was all kind and gentle with her books until they refused to give her the information she was looking for. Then she turned on them in a temper.
"I mentioned something about the ability to see spells," Harry gave half the story to the child he was mentoring, "You have to admit it would be pretty handy to be able to see what was being cast at you."
"Oh," Mark smiled up at him eagerly, "Like the Goblins do."
"Goblins?" Hermione asked sharply, "What about them?"
Mark glanced at her nervously, and Ron put a hand on his 'little brothers' shoulder in support. Mark was about to learn that you never got in the way of Hermione and her quest to learn.
"Well, it's a Goblin thing," Mark replied, "My d-dad… he told me that one of the reasons that Goblins were so good at guarding money and finding treasures is because they can see the magic around them. He said that they don't see the world like we do, instead they see it as a series of spells and magical sources. He said that e-every living th-thing had a s-special aura and that's w-what the G-Goblins saw."
Harry ruffled sleek hair in commiseration. This was the first time that Mark had mentioned his dead father without bursting into tears. Mark leaned into his side while Ron squeezed the boy's shoulder lightly. Hermione's face softened for a moment and then she leapt up, heading for the shelves. That got a chuckle from Ron and a little smile from Mark, though the boy burrowed closer into Harry's side.
It wasn't until he was in bed that night that Harry realised that he'd discovered another ability that he'd never known about. If the ability to see magic was a Goblin-only trait, he'd somehow managed to learn yet another species mind view. He rolled onto his side with a sigh and frowned. Once Hermione had presented her findings he'd decide what to do. Either way he was going to have to tell the Headmaster about it before the end of term.
0o0o0o0
"Fascinating," Dumbledore murmured, "And you use this ability in your teaching as well?"
"Yes sir," Harry nodded, "It helps me figure out where the students are going wrong."
"But how do you know where the flaws are in what you see?" Dumbledore leaned back and steepled his fingers together. Harry had made the appointment with the Headmaster after Hermione had finished her research and suggested to Harry a few ways to combine the house elf and goblin magic to improve his use of magic. Harry had to admit it had worked. His spells were a lot more powerful and a lot easier to cast. He also found it easier to learn new spells quickly and detect the use of magic around him. He'd caught a few of the second year Ravenclaws in the midst of a very subtle prank thanks to this new skill.
The Headmaster had welcomed him to the appointment with tea and biscuits, and they'd sat in the armchairs by the Headmaster's fireplace. There was a howling snowstorm outside and the office was quite cosy. The damage Harry had done in his grief last year had been repaired, and the portraits on the walls were snoozing in their frames as usual, though Harry had caught one or two of them peering at him when they thought he wasn't looking.
"I've been studying Arithmancy at night," Harry confessed. Fawkes shifted on his perch, moulting badly as another burning day approached, and Harry smiled at the Phoenix fondly, "Hedwigs been fetching books from Diagon Alley for me, and I use them to help me understand what I see."
"Is it only spells you have seen cast that you can see?" Dumbledore's eyes were gleaming in interest, and Harry shook his head.
"I can see the schools wards inside the walls if I concentrate hard enough, but I can't read all of them. Some are too complex for me to decipher, though if I had time and a lot of reference materials I could probably figure them out," it wasn't boasting, it was the simple truth. Harry could figure out what the wards were if he had time and space to do it in, just as anyone else with a copy of them on parchment could, provided they had a proper understanding of Arithmancy in the first place.
"Can you alter the spells you see?" Dumbledore leaned forward and replenished their teacups, offering Harry a biscuit. For all the casualness of the actions, Harry had a feeling that Dumbledore was waiting for his answer quite anxiously.
"I've never tried to," Harry frowned, "I always thought it would be to dangerous to go mucking about with someone else's magic. The only time I try to alter what I see is if I'm casting and it's failed. I assumed that altering my own magic wouldn't be as dangerous, somehow."
Dumbledore relaxed, and Harry felt that he'd given the right answer there. Not that he was just saying what he thought Dumbledore wanted to hear. It was dangerous to mess about with something magical that wasn't yours. Everyone knew that.
"A wise decision Harry," the old Professor beamed, "You could do a lot of damage interfering with someone else's casting. It's a sort of arrogance to assume that you can alter what you haven't set up, and that is a trait I have noted to be absent from your make-up."
"I won't try it," Harry promised, and then hesitated, "Headmaster, is this normal? I mean, you said that now and then a Witch or Wizard pops up that could master another species point of view. Do they normally master more than one?"
"No," Dumbledore said simply, "But then again, you are a most unusual Wizard, Harry. Do not be concerned. Your powers will level out in time, and until they do you will have much to learn. Continue with the Arithmancy, it can only help you, and above all, remember to be open to new experiences."
"Yes sir," Harry sighed, and munched his biscuit. Dumbledore chuckled and crossed his legs comfortably at the ankles.
"On another note, I must thank you for your assistance with Mark Mathers. Professor Snape tells me that the boy has started to settle well, and several teachers have informed me of the time you and your friends have spent with him," his eyes twinkled merrily from behind the rimless glasses, "In addition, your Sunday homework club has seen a rise in student marks since last term. You're doing very well in your apprenticeship, Harry."
Harry beamed, glad to get some positive feedback. The teaching still worried him, as he took that particular subject very seriously, and didn't want to let his students down.
"I think that by the time you finish your seventh year, you'll be ready to take on several of the other subjects as well, and possibly begin a remedial class for the OWL students. Your third year of the apprenticeship is the most busy after all," Dumbledore sipped serenely from his teacup as Harry's stomach took a bit of a dive.
"Sir," Harry decided to mention his suspicion now, rather than wait until he'd graduated, "One of the reasons you agreed to this apprenticeship was so I'd be able to stay at Hogwarts, wasn't it?"
"If you cannot stay with the Dursley's this is the safest place for you," Dumbledore agreed, "I realise that you have dreams of becoming an Auror…"
"That can wait for a little while," Harry shook his head, "There's always other years if I still want to join."
"You're a wise man, Harry," Dumbledore sounded a little sad, "Much wiser than I at your age."
Harry shrugged. He'd had to grow up a lot in a very short time, and it wasn't so much wisdom as the realisation that his responsibilities to the Wizarding world meant his life was not his own. At least he had Ron, Hermione and Neville to be a teenager with.
0o0o0o0
"Hey have you seen the latest twitch?" Ron asked as Harry slumped into a seat beside him. The Great Hall was full of students, buzzing in delight that the Easter Holidays were about to start. Life had been hectic of late and was about to become only slightly less so as Harry locked himself in his office to get the third term planning reviewed and approved. Once he had he'd be able to spend all his free time with his friends. He'd already warned them that he was about to disappear to get his work prepared, and to his surprise, Hermione had given him a huge hug. He and Ron hadn't been able to figure out why, though Ron had been a bit uncomfortable about it.
Harry was hoping that they'd spend the time he was locked away together. It couldn't be easy for Ron to deal with sharing his girlfriend with Harry, though the green-eyed teen had done his best to ensure that they had time alone. He loved Ron so much that the redhead's happiness was more important than Harry's desires, and he knew that he'd be honestly able to wish them well when they chose to join their futures together. Until then he was very careful not to touch either of them too often, and to always leave a space between himself and them so that Ron wouldn't be threatened and Hermione wouldn't get the wrong idea.
"Which twitch is that then?" Neville asked from Ron's other side. Slytherin had been very touchy all term, taking offence at the smallest thing and bickering with each other most bitterly. Snape's demeanour had worsened in the face of his House's divisions and he could often be seen whisking groups of students into his office. Harry very much doubted that the Potions Master was offering tea and biscuits in there.
"Zabini and the table cutlery," Ron nodded and Harry glanced up. Zabini was indeed clutching his cutlery in his hands rather tightly, and glaring at those around him as they used theirs to eat.
Blaise Zabini in particular had become quite twitchy and paranoid. He could be seen at odd intervals, lurking in the shadows of the library, poring over books whose titles he concealed from view. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had also started stalking some of the younger students, popping up behind them in the corridors and looming ominously. Harry had had to deal with a bout of hysterics on Mark's part after the three of them did it to him, and he'd reported the incident to Snape rather than tackling Malfoy about it himself. He didn't want to risk getting into a shouting match with the blonde, thus giving Malfoy more ammunition for his grudge. He wasn't sure, but he thought that Snape appreciated the chance to have a good shout at his former favourite.
"Looks like he's expecting someone to stab him with their fork," Neville chuckled, but the hackles on the back of Harry's neck were rising. Something about the desperation in the other teen's eyes was warning Harry that there were more than just poor table manners on Zabini's mind. This was confirmed by the way the convulsive grip tightened when Malfoy and his goons entered the hall. Harry slipped out of his seat and skulked along the edges of the hall, keeping an eye on the situation while he moved.
Just as he got in range, Zabini leapt to his feet and whirled to face Malfoy, the blonde stepping back in shock as his housemate rounded on him, hissing in anger. Harry popped the short distance to arrive just behind Zabini, putting his hand on the other boys shoulder to stop him from doing something stupid in his blind fury.
Zabini whirled, his hand punching forward and something tore through Harry's gut. He gasped and the other boy paled in horror. Harry put a hand to the pain and encountered the golden handle of a Hogwarts steak knife. The Great Hall erupted as he swayed on the spot and the Slytherin stammered incoherently.
"Potter!" Snape looked shocked and Harry met the dark eyes hazily. He hadn't noticed the Head of Slytherin moving from his position at the staff table, and was starting to feel rather light-headed. He just knew that if he moved he'd wake the pain that was waiting for him beneath the knife.
"It was an accident," Harry felt it important that Snape knew he wasn't blaming the other student. He knew without a doubt that Zabini hadn't meant to stab him. Snape frowned and reached out a hand. The first touch had Harry gasping in pain and his legs crumpled, sending him to the floor unconscious.
0o0o0o0
Wherever he was, there was a large amount of noise, both physical and magical. He could hear people shouting orders and questions and information, and underneath it all there was the additional hubbub of magic. Spells were being fired in quick order, some connecting, some ricocheting, and some failing with a miserable whine or bang.
Harry was hurting, but it was a dull and distant pain that was easily ignored. The noise and bustle about him was enervating though, and he stretched his awareness out, looking for a quieter spot. It was a moments work to lever himself off the narrow thing he was lying on and stumble in the direction that his senses were telling him was quiet and peaceful.
Wherever it was that he ended up there was a rather cool airflow around his ankles. It wasn't a comfortable spot to sit, and lying down appeared to be out of the question. Harry rested for a moment and then extended his senses again, looking for a better place to rest. Higher up seemed a better bet, and Harry climbed dizzily, wandering in a daze until something arrested his attention.
In a spot that was very peaceful and calm, there were two semi familiar sensations. They were separate parts of a more familiar magical signature, only they were terribly tangled and snarled. That condition was causing them, and Harry by proxy, considerable confusion and discomfort, so Harry headed over to see if he could help. He was thinking that he could do something like when he untangled the students in his class who were too tense to cast their spells properly. Amy Anderson got herself in a tangle and so did the more familiar magic of… Neville… whoever this was, they both held parts of Neville within them. If Harry could untangle them, straighten them out, then perhaps Neville's tendency to tangle himself up would diminish too. Neville had been so good to him, and this seemed like such a small effort in repayment.
Harry stood between the two tangles and reached out, soothing and smoothing his way through the worst of the snarls, taking his time to be gentle while undoing the damage. This was not interfering with another persons spell; it was more like untangling a ball of wool. He'd untangled wool for Molly Weasley once, more than happy to perform the boring chore on a long and wet afternoon. Ron had been playing chess with Ginny, and Harry had gotten bored with his book.
The tangling seemed to be worse at the centre, and Harry took his time, noting absently that the tangles were identical for each magical signature. He didn't have the concentration to spare worrying about it, as he didn't want to run the risk of snapping the 'threads' that he was working at so patiently. Some instinct was warning him that this would prevent him from completing his self appointed task.
Finally the last of the tangles were smoothed away, and Harry straightened the final kinks. The magic he had been working with was warm and soothing now, not cold and sharp, and he was relieved that the task was over. Truth be told he was feeling very tired. A little nap was in order.
Harry never saw the Healers that had been alerted to his presence dart forward to catch him when the visible aura of magic that had been glowing like a golden beacon retreated from him and their two patients.
0o0o0o0
The door to the ward banged open and Harry and the rest of the patients in the room jumped. Before he could do more than put his glasses on, he was buried under the weight of his sobbing friend. A moment's thought identified the person trying to squeeze the stuffing out of him, and he worked his arms out of the desperate hug.
"Nev?" Harry asked while hugging the weighty teen back, glad that his wound was entirely healed so the pressure being put on his belly wasn't painful.
"Thank you," Neville sobbed and Harry frowned, glancing up when someone hurried in after his friend. Frank Longbottom's hair was still white, as was his wife Alice's, but over the last few days they'd begun to look a lot better. The fact that they could now see to their own grooming, hygiene and feeding had a lot to do with that - magic could only do so much. Not that Harry had witnessed this - he'd been asleep for the most part, exhausted by his surge of magic and the Healers treatment of his stab wound. He had been informed that what he had done for the Longbottom's was permanent. Neville would not have to worry that his parents would slip away into their nightmares once more.
"Neville," Frank reached down and tried to prise his son off Harry, "Son, you mustn't…"
Harry realised that Frank was concerned about the effects his son's touch was having on Harry. The Healers had made some passing mention of the theory that Harry was exhibiting empathic powers - something that was not very common in the Wizarding world. Empaths tended to like a little separation between themselves and the rest of the world, only truly comfortable with the touch of their family and loved ones. While it was true that Harry didn't like to be touched by strangers, Neville was by no means one of those. Harry's family may not consist of blood ties, but he did have one all the same.
"It's all right, sir," Harry patted Neville's back, "He can't hurt me."
"Your wound!" Neville squeaked, misunderstanding, and jolted up, "Oh no! I forgot!"
"It's fine, Nev," Harry grinned and took the opportunity to sit up properly. The nurses on this ward liked their patients to lie down at all times, which got very boring very quickly. His only other visitor had been Mrs Weasley, who had sat on his bed and read him the Quidditch scores before leaving him a tin of her baking and kissing him goodbye. She'd be back today to retrieve him; Dumbledore had sent a note to Harry saying that he was to spend the rest of Easter at the Burrow. Ron was there already, with Ginny, and to Harry's surprise, Mark. Fortunately, Harry's work was also there, so he wouldn't fall behind in his preparations for teaching.
"Are you sure?" Neville asked, but climbed up onto the bed like he would in the dorm, "It's been such a fuss at school, Zabini wasn't even expelled."
Alice appeared, looking for her husband and son, with Mrs Longbottom at her elbow. When Neville's grandmother spotted him she hurried over for a hug too, and Harry grinned in surprise. Her magical signature was very much like her son's - she must have been quite a powerful Witch in her youth.
"Thanks Mrs Longbottom," he said uncertainly, and she snorted in response.
"We should be thanking you," her vulture topped hat quivered, "And you were injured yourself!"
"Yes, well," Harry shrugged, looking at his knees, "I was lucky not to hurt anyone."
That much was true - he'd been working solely on instinct, not knowledge, and the thought that he could have made things worse was a frightening one. He couldn't even begin to imagine facing Neville after he'd killed or injured his parents further. The fact that he'd been working on instinct made the Healers think that the Empathy was a latent talent, and one that would either develop in time or stay at about the level it was now.
"You know the young man?" Alice asked from where she had a hand on her son's shoulder. Neville beamed at his mother and leaned into the touch. The Daily Prophet had yet to get hold of this story, and Harry hoped for Neville's sake the family would have its privacy for a bit longer.
"Harry and I have been friends since first year. We're in the same dorm," Neville replied, and Harry grinned in confirmation. Frank and Alice were looking shocked, undoubtedly thinking that an empath in a dorm would be inundated with unwelcome input. Harry hoped that Neville would explain things to them during their holiday together.
"Though with friends like me, you don't need enemies," he chuckled and Mrs Longbottom snorted in response.
"True," Neville nodded seriously, "But it's a lot tidier that way."
The teens laughed at each other, as did Mrs Longbottom. Alice and Frank looked a little confused, but Harry didn't feel like telling them that Voldemort was still loose in the world and getting stronger. There was a time and a place for everything, and the first coherent conversation they'd had with their son wasn't it. Neville got up and shook Harry's hand, the initial reaction over, and Harry shook hands with Frank and Alice, submitting to Mrs Longbottom's hug with good grace. He couldn't wait to get to the Burrow. Despite the fact that it was full of Weasley's he could guarantee that it was a lot quieter there.
0o0o0o0