Cheelalaucha: Thanks for continually reading! ;)


CHAPTER FIVE

All heads turned toward the door as a small blonde boy made his entrance. "Over here" called a voice from a dark corner of the high ceiling-ed room. The boy, who was pushing a steeling wheelchair, smirked in a mischievous way. "Yes, Father", he replied, drawling. The young boy firstly took a glance around the room: people; lots of people, all kinds of people. Some who'd never be suspected of being related to such people as himself. Some waved at him, some smiled weakly, some looked unsure of how to react: after all, this boy was the boss' son.

He then left the invalid and sat beside the man who had called for him. Draco's hair was just as sleek and pale as his father's. "You're getting older Draco." Lucius said with a somehow sneering voice. Draco straightened while hearing this. He seemed to be taking a lot of pride in the latest statement. Lucius caught a short glance at his son and got back to staring directly ahead of him like he had done from the beginning. "You will now be allowed to participate in some ways." He let his words float into the air for a moment. A distant fire was burning and crackling, but not bringing any warmth to the vast room. The silence seemed heavy and filled with insinuations.

"But you know this. We talked about it." Lucius stood up and started pacing in front of the chairs with his hands behind his back. "You will soon begin a formation period of an undetermined length. The Dark Lord will receive you personally some time during August" here, Lucius marked a pause. He sounded nervous talking about a meeting between his disciple and his master. For a long time, he didn't say anything. Draco remained completely still except for the frown which formed above the thin line of his eyebrows. Suddenly, a groan rose from the shiny wheelchair at the other side of the room. Lucius turned around sharply "Shut up Shacklebot!" he barked, with his most freezing voice "You will serve your purpose." He glared at him for a second and turned around "Everything in time".


Ginny and Neville were playing exploding cards and laughing so hard it made them fight for breath. Footsteps soon were to be heard. "Well, look what we have here" said a warm, soft, motherly voice. "Hey Mom" Ginny greeted lazily. Neville stood up quickly and said with a stiff voice "Can I offer some help Mrs Weasley?" he was pointing at the grocery bags in front of the door. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Let go, Neville, you don't have to be such a stuck-up" Molly looked like she was about to disapprove, but she just ignored the comment. "No thanks, dear, I'll be quite fine" She turned around and smiled to the boy "I'm telling you Neville, everything's right" she flicked her wand and the bags began flying through the room and toward the kitchen. "See?" she said, smiling over her shoulder. Then, and only then, did Neville agree to sit back down.
"MARY MOTHER OF GOD!" yelled a non quite pleased grand-mother from up the stairs. Three pairs of eyes immediately turned toward the ceiling. Molly sighed and got back to her dinner with a sad smile "I think that call's for you Neville". Neville nodded and ran up the stairs. The stairway was a rich tone of dark brown wood. The handrail which was finely carved, was obviously wand-made. The stairs were covered in a thick dark red carpet. The walls of the staircase were covered in paintings of old witches and wizards. That house just yelled abundance.

When Neville finally made his way to his grand-ma's bedroom (as the house was quite big, it took him some time), she was cursing again. Neville shuddered. He posed his hand on the sculpted doorknob, but shouts prevented him from causing any disturbance. He simply stood there, waiting, his heart pounding.

"I just mean to help Mrs Longbottom" said a hoarse voice. "Help, help…" replied an obviously annoyed Mrs Longbottom "That's all everyone's been so keen on telling me since my accident. Does anybody bother to inform me of anything? NO! I'm too old, perhaps? I can't think straight? Well you youngsters must know this: it has not come the day when Adele Longbottom will lack mental capacity!" On each side of the door, someone sighed heavily. "That's not what we think Mrs Longbottom" said the voice inside of the room "I just about know as much as you do, you're going to have to wait for Professor Dumbledore to learn any more and I'm afraid this could take some time as he's quite busy these days." Heavy silence "In the mean time, why don't you let me check on you?" Mrs Longbottom mumbled something Neville couldn't hear so he leaned closer to the door. Then he realised what he was doing…

"What have you said?" asked the man with a gruff voice. "I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE YOU WEREWOLF!" At this sounding, Neville opened the door in a rather abrupt fashion. Both heads turned toward him, shocked. "Prof-Professor Lupin?" Neville tried to articulate, but his grand-ma cut him off. "NEVILLE! Have you been ears-dropping?" Neville hid his sweaty palms behind his back. "N-no" he stammered. Mrs Longbottom started screaming again, but Lupin just set his metallic eyes into Neville's. He walked right past him on his way out and murmured: "She's on a good mood tonight, don't you think? Have a nice evening Neville"

When they were left alone, Neville felt his head go numb. He was dandling back and forth and it seemed to him like he was currently standing in a sea of very white wadding. Silent wadding. Reality was all the contrary.

"Neville, Neville, are you even listening to me?" Neville shook his head and sat on the tip of the bed to help him get a grip on reality. He was sitting at the toes of the green covered bed of his grand-ma. He was facing the naked wall. Behind his back, Mrs Longbottom continued to ramble for what seemed like hours. Finally, Neville turned around, leaned toward the bedside table and took the humid cloth which was waiting there. With a heart breaking look to his face, he began neatening his plaintiff grandmother.


It was almost ten on a Wednesday night. The streets of London were desert. A tall and thin man was trying to run against the wind. His fragile stature was easily taken aback by the strong breeze. He had thinning red hair with a bald spot. He wore, glasses, a brown leather jacket and beige golf pants. That man's name was Arthur Weasley. Little would anybody notice, in the darkness of the night, but a long, timid blue tear ran from the corner of his eye to join the forest of his flaming hair.
Neville closed the door cautiously. She was finally asleep. He rested his back on the cold surface of the door and let his head fall back against it. He closed his eyes and fought against the army of tears that formed behind his eyes. He put his fists on his eyes and pressed harshly. Hadn't his family suffered enough? Why did they have to go through this. They already were having enough of a hard time just getting through to each other. Who sent it on them? Neville felt just as alone and ignorant as his grand, the difference was major though. He, was not powerless. He could walk, see and talk. He was to be heard and people could do no other than listen to him.

Or so he thought.


Remus Lupin was folding shirts and pullovers when Neville made irruption in his room. "I-I'm sorry" the boy began shyly "the door was open and I thought… I mean… I didn't want to disturb you…" Remus took on folding pants and robes now and putting them in a black trunk. "It's quite alright Neville" he said with a calm voice. And when the boy didn't speak, he simply added "You wanted to see me?" Neville sounded hesitant "I-uh… yes. But, you-you're going somewhere?" "Not for a long time. As your grandmother gently pointed out, I am a werewolf and…" Neville cut him off "I'm very sorry about that Professor. I have no idea what's got into her, I plead you to be forgiving of her on my behalf, she; she's not really mean, just a little sharp…"

"I told you already Neville, you don't have to call me professor anymore" Lupin sighed and put one hand on Neville's shoulder "But you're wrong. She doesn't mean to be sharp. She's just old and very very tired. She's feeling insecure and afraid at the same time. It's not her fault" Neville looked away. His relationship with his grandma was a sensitive nerve.

Lupin caught it that Neville was feeling uncomfortable and went on about his departure "It will be full moon soon and…" Neville cut him again "Didn't Professor Snape used to give you a potion so you could change into an harmless wolf?" Lupin raised one eyebrow suspiciously "I don't know how you learned that" he began "and I don't want to. The thing is…" he stopped for a moment and gazed intensely through the air in front of him. He looked… hurt. "The thing is, a regular wolf isn't really harmless either. I don't think Molly would be too pleased with having a wolf in her housing" Neville looked surprised for an instant "This is Mrs Weasley's house! I thought that the Weasley…" Neville realised he had gone too far. He turned a deep shade of red and tried to redeem himself "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, it's just…" he paused and waited for his interlocutor to say something, anything that could dissipate the thick, twisted feeling of tension that had faultily infiltrated the room. "Actually this… this house doesn't belong to anyone… cu-currently."

Lupin laid his head back down and closed his eyes. The thought of Sirius was still very harmful. So fresh, still there, wide open; the wound was present with him every second of the day.

Both of them leaped two feet high when a terrible high pitched scream rang through the vast house. "Oh no" was Remus' only comment as he left the room and ran down the stairs. Neville followed him quickly and soon found himself in front of the life-sized portrait of a very aged woman. She had long, layered grey and white hair and her skin looked yellowish. She was obviously screaming at the top of her voice (or so one could hope) and looked very… unpleasant (this was the least you could say). Soon were reassembled Molly, Bill, Charlie and a pretty, young woman with a pale, heart-shaped face whom Neville did not know. She had short fluo pink hair and her eyes were dark and twinkling. The adults began trying to hide her behind moldy curtains and hexing silencing charms at her. Neville, very slothful, just walked away.


It was very late at night, but Neville couldn't fall asleep. He sat on his bed. The room was so dark he could not see his hand if he raised it in front of his eyes. He got up and opened the door. The corridor was empty, but silent in a weird kind of way. A noisy kind of silence. Neville had an uncomfortable feeling about this corridor. He didn't know what was hiding at the end of it, he couldn't even see the end of it, so big was it. The day of his arrival Mrs Weasley had simply warned him of not going there. Neville wasn't stupid. And, unlike others, his curiosity wasn't an excuse to his bravery.

Now that he thought about it, Neville had an unsure feeling about all of this house. As thought it were filled with dark magic. The only time when he felt safe was with people. But then, he had to fight against another kind of fear, internal, which commanded him of being alone.

Neville walked down the stairs with the intention of helping himself with a large cup of hot chocolate. On the last step of the stairs, he found himself face to face with… someone. It was so dark he couldn't even see there was a human being in front of him. He knew it because he could hear the beat of heart, feel the rush of his breath. In a protective reflex, Neville got out his wand and stuck it in what was apparently the intruder's stomach. Both breathed heavily in the dark. Neville could feel his palms getting wet and he rearranged his grip on his wand just before it slipped from his sweaty fingers. Somehow, he had the certitude that the person in front of him was slowly getting out his wand. Neville stiffened. The other one was going to say an incantation, cast a spell on him and he couldn't help, but stay there immobile. Neville's heart raced faster and faster. Suddenly, a recognisable voice said "Lumos".

Neville blinked twice rather than once for the blue magic light which had appeared in front of him was blinding him. "Mis-Mister Weasley?" called a squeaky Neville. He couldn't help, but notice the wet corner of his eye. Mr Weasley caught where Neville's glance was heading and nervously wiped his eye. "I-uh, I just came to get a box of tissues…" said Mr Weasley, rather anxiously. "But, but, can't you sleep?" said Mr Weasley as thought he was committing the very improbable act of trying to have a discussion at this point in the night. He wasn't looking directly at Neville and he seemed rather preoccupied. "I don't even know where they keep the tissues in this place" he murmured, more talking to himself than anything else. Both Neville and Mr Weasley raised their head when a long and noisy sob was heard. Mr Weasley jumped on the first step of the stairs, jumped back down, made a whole turn on himself and finished this dance with really wide and useless arm movements.

Neville stood there, embarrassed, not knowing what to do. Finally, Mr Weasley caught sight of an old dirty cloth laying on the tip of the handrail. He took it in his hand, pointed his wand at it and Neville saw it transform into a baby blue box of tissues. With a small, rather saddening smile toward Neville, Mr Weasley left.

Neville, not knowing what to do, decided he hadn't better to do than to follow him. He turned where he had seen Mr Weasley disappear behind a door and found himself in a dinning room as vast as a cavern. Mrs Weasley was sitting in the middle of one side of the very large wooden table. On her left was Mr Weasley, patting her back and murmuring soothing words to her ear. The transfigurated box of tissues was in front of him. On Mrs Weasley's right side were Charlie, holding her hand, and then Bill. On another side of the table were the twins, Fred and George, and facing them were Remus Lupin and that woman with pink hair Neville had seen earlier that night. Sitting opposite to Mr and Mrs Weasley were Ginny, Ron and… to Neville's disbelief, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Neville remained upright in withdrawal behind of Harry. He was feeling a little out of place, seeing as this looked like a Weasley's family reunion. He was about to leave when George caught sight of him. Ever since Neville had arrived, George had tried to include Neville in the communal life of Grimmauld Place. Neville found this was very kind, but it made him feel embarrassed, as thought the others thought he needed someone to take care of him. George took on recalling the latest events for Neville's sake.

"And he told dad that he wouldn't come" concluded George. Everyone looked demolished, but Ronald hit the table with both his fists, got up and left the room. Hermione went after him, but, surprisingly enough, Harry stayed behind.


And so the life at Number 12 Grimmauld Place went on, with his odds and its bad lucks. Its people were trying their best to live together without hurts, but it wasn't easy everyday. Order members came and went every other day, not paying much attention to the children. Neville spent most of his time alone, reading. He'd seen Professor Lupin since he'd came back, and his grand of course, but not the others. The ambience was very tended. Molly was dropping thing and crying and sobbing whenever she thought anyone made a reference to her third son, Harry was getting upset every now and then (which appeared to be quite often) and he seemed particularly aggravated with Neville's presence. Mrs Longbottom was slowly, but surely recovering, with the help of Lupin who acted as an healer for her. Hermione had took on spending some time with the lady everyday and it surprised everyone that Mrs Longbottom seemed to quite enjoy this time with the young girl. Dumbledore hadn't made any appearance yet and it seemed to upset more people than just Neville.
On the 28th of July, Mrs Longbottom was finally able to get out of her room. It was a good thing since she had spent the last two days complaining about the decoration of her room. Hermione had tried her luck and put a nature's painting on the nude wall face her bed, but Mrs Longbottom had been so angry about it that Hermione had immediately taken it down.

Now, she was free to leave her room and it was just as good. Lupin and Molly had spent the previous evening charming and transfiguring so they could manage a lift in the old house. That morning, Neville helped his grand-ma out of bed and got her into the living room of the ground floor. When Neville made his entrance, everyone fell silent. He was pushing a rather grumpy Mrs Longbottom by the handle of the wheelchair in which she was sitting. Molly smiled easily, and it was beautiful to see her doing so after all those days and nights she'd spent crying, and invited Neville to join them. Neville smiled back and placed his grand-mother's chair in front of the fireplace, near Hermione who was reading a book in a green armchair. The old lady smiled gently to her friend and they fell into deep conversation. Neville then sat beside Ginny, Bill, Fred and George who were looking Ron and Charlie play chest and making jokes about it. The whole lot of them were laughing. Harry, Lupin and the woman who Neville now knew liked to be named Tonks were sitting around a small round table nearby. They were talking happily in front of smoking cups of hot chocolate. Molly and Arthur were sitting close on a green couch, checking an old, beaten-up photographs album.

And so life goes on.


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