TITLE: A Gryffindor Tried and True
AUTHOR: Meercat
LONGER SUMMARY: Harry Potter dislikes Severus Snape. Severus Snape loathes Harry Potter. No one is more shocked than the Hogwarts Potion Master when Harry takes a potentially fatal spell to save the Death Eater turned Phoenix spy. Harry's sole hope of survival lies with Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, and, of all people, Neville Longbottom.
Chapter 6Due to the holiday student exodus, the library felt distressingly empty. The chamber typically echoed with whispered voices, the flutter of turning pages, and the crackle of brittle parchment. Roaring fires in each of the great hearths provided heat and light, driving off the chill of winter that soaked into the stone walls.
At a long wooden table set near the southern hearth, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom studied book after book, searching for anything that might help their friend.
"I heard the Headmaster talking to Professor McGonagall," Ron reported. "They're going to send an owl to the Dursleys, letting them know what's happened to Harry."
"Ahh, those Muggles should be whipped for the way they've treated their own flesh and blood," Hermione groused. "They don't deserve Harry. Your family is more kin to him than his own blood relatives."
"Dumbledore seemed to think they might come here," Ron added, "the Dursleys that is, even though they hate anything to do with magic."
"Why on earth would they do that?"
"To gloat," Neville answered for Ron. "To watch it happen and to get whatever they can out of it."
"Precisely," Ron agreed.
"They won't get anything but a boot to their tails," Hermione predicted. "If Dumbledore doesn't see to that, Hagrid certainly will."
"I sent Gran an owl this morning explaining why I'm not on the train," Neville said. "So far, she hasn't answered."
Hermione refreshed the ink on her quill and resumed taking notes. "How do you think she'll react?"
Neville shrugged. "With Gran, there's no telling."
"I hate to say this," Hermione said in her this-is-for-your-own-good tone, "but your grandmother tends to wrap you in wool padding then gets upset when you can't do something."
Longbottom flipped to a new page in the library copy of Curses and Hexes Through the Ages. "I s'pose."
"Well, the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor," Hermione said. "It wouldn't have done that without a reason."
"I've often wondered what that reason might be," Neville sighed.
Before either friend could answer, a pale figure in dark green robes slid into view in front of their table. "Any luck?"
"Go away, Malfoy," Ron fingered the grip of his wand, "before I spell you to eat slugs, and this time my wand's not broken."
Draco held up his arms in mock surrender. "Oh, I'm so scared. Somebody please save me."
"I thought you planned to go home for the holidays," Hermione commented, cutting off Ron's hard retort.
Draco shrugged. "Changed my mind." He hooked a hip on the desk, picked up the nearest book, and leafed through it. "I take it you haven't found what you're looking for. If it's even in here to find."
Hermione restrained Ron by grabbing his forearm. She studied Malfoy, puzzled. Something about the Slytherin boy was different. Draco should be dancing with joy at the mere thought of seeing Harry Potter brought down by a curse. A change in the eyes, faint but noticeable to anyone who looked closely. Where was the glint of triumph Draco should be feeling?
"What is it you really want, Draco?"
Malfoy fidgeted in place. He dropped the book and stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He studied the wall art and read the titles of other texts stacked on the study table. He looked everywhere except at the Muggle-born witch.
Hermione rose from her bench and moved around the table. She stopped only two feet away. Her voice softened to an almost friendly croon.
"Draco?"
The answer emerged as though yanked out with flaming pincers. "I want to help!"
The three Gryffindors blinked. Eyes rounded in shock. Jaws dropped.
"What?" Draco challenged their surprise. "Like you twits know as much about potions as I do. Admit it, I even outscore the Mud--everyone else in our class."
"Not always," Hermione countered. "Why, Draco? Why do you want to help Harry?"
The trademark sneer marred the otherwise handsome face. "What better joke on the mighty Saint Potter than to have his life saved by a Slytherin? By me?"
"That's not your real reason," Hermione pressed.
"It's reason enough."
"No. It isn't. Why do you want to help Harry Potter?"
Draco struggled three more seconds then blurted out, "He saved my life." He waved toward the panoramic view out the nearest window, of open, snow-covered lawn, Hagrid's cottage, and the solid bulk of the Forbidden Forest. "Out there. In the forest. I don't like owing anyone, especially Harry Potter. If I help cure him, we'll be even. We can hate each other as we've always done without anything more between us."
Hermione nodded. "There's more to it, but we'll let that stand as your reason." Hermione held out her hand. "Draco Malfoy, we accept your offer."
"We do?" Ron hissed as Draco accepted the handshake.
"Good. Thanks." The word slipped out before Draco could rein it back. In an effort to hurry past the awkward moment, he pulled a roll of paper out of a pocket in his robe. "Professor Snape gave me this. It'll get us into the restricted section. Full access, even after hours."
"Yes!"
Hermione snatched the permit and raced off to find the librarian, Madame Pince. The three boys followed in her wake.
Malfoy wasn't at all shocked to find his way blocked by a wall with red hair. He was, however, surprised to see Longbottom add his own hard glare to the warning.
"I don't know what your game is, Malfoy," Weasley warned. "Maybe you're here for the reasons you say an' maybe you're not. Either way, I'll be watching you. If you do anything to hurt 'mione or Harry, or if you try to trip us up in finding a cure, there won't be any rule I won't break to make you pay for it."
Malfoy studied the two boys and said, "For once, Weasley, I believe you."
Having expected more of an argument, Ron fluttered a moment, regrouping. "Good. Okay. Just so's we understand each other."
"Are we going to stand here staring at each other like a pair of wild animals in the forest," Draco asked, "or are we going to start hunting for the antidote? After all, I wouldn't want to be accused of tripping anyone up."
###
Flames flared to life in wall sconces and standing torches. The four students blinked and looked around. As darkness descended on the school, they were no closer to an answer than they were at the start of their search.
Madame Pince had broken one of her long-standing rules and allowed food in the library. The four students, deep in their research, dimly recalled her setting platters of sliced meat, bread, and cheese on the table before she disappeared to continue her own searches through books considered too dangerous even for the Restricted Section.
"Maybe we should break off for a few minutes." Neville rubbed aching, bloodshot eyes and yawned. "We can go see how Harry's going."
"Sounds good." Ron stretched. A triple crack realigned his spine. He relaxed again with a sigh of relief. "Y'know, we've been at this all day, and I still don't know what Dawn's Glory looks like. Plenty of descriptions and a ton of things that could be done with it, but no pictures."
"I saw one," Hermione rustled through her stack to find the right book then thumbed through the pages until she found the one in question. "Here."
Ron studied the image and said, "Nice."
His own curiosity piqued, Malfoy twisted until he, too, could see the image. The plant, with its spade-shaped purple leaves and black, vine-like stems, lay flat to the ground for maximum exposure to sunlight. According to the accompanying legend, it bloomed five times a year, sometimes six in warmer climates. The orchid-shaped flowers grew in clusters of three, six flowers on each stalk, dangling on the end of a central stem.
A choking sound rose from Neville's throat. Between one blink and another, the book disappeared from in front of Hermione and Ron to reappear in Longbottom's trembling hands.
"Hey!" Ron complained. "I was looking at that."
"Neville? What is it?"
Longbottom traced the drawing of the flower. His fingertip trembled harder with every second. He outlined the tiny blue bud and ran his finger down the sword-like central petal.
"It can't be. It just can't be." The boy stared at the drawing. His mouth worked but no further sound emerged.
"Neville?" Ron called. "Mate, what's wrong?"
Longbottom blinked four times and shuddered. His eyes widened and his jaw fell even further. He slammed the book closed, dropped it to the desktop, and threw himself away from the table.
"Neville!" Hermione called after him. The boy ran on without an instant's pause. "Let's go see what's going on."
"Let him go," Ron said.
"He's onto something." Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and tugged him to his feet. "Come on!"
The pair raced from the room, hot on Longbottom's heels.
"Damn and blast. They're off and running." Draco sighed and climbed off the bench. "As usual."
Driven by curiosity, the Slytherin raced to catch up.
###
Neville Longbottom ran through the corridors as though chased by the hounds of hell--or worse still, Professor Snape. A stitch grabbed his side. Every breath scalded his throat. He barely had wind enough to gasp out the password to the Fat Lady whose portrait guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor dormitory.
Far behind him, Hermione and Ron called for him to wait, but he didn't stop. He had to check. Before he said anything, he had to be sure.
He threw himself into his room and rooted beneath his bed. Neville pulled out his keepsake box, unlocked and threw open the lid, and pulled out the roll of linen. He laid it on the floor and unrolled it until he uncovered a single faded flower, the vivid royal blue still faintly visible. The central pedal, though bent, still held its distinctive sword shape.
He abandoned the rest of the items, even left his chest open. Neville raced down the stairs, the pressed bloom cupped between his hands. He appeared in the common room even as Hermione and Ron stepped in from the outside.
"Neville, what's going on? Have you-"
Longbottom thrust the flower before him, almost hitting Granger's nose. "Is this it, Hermione? Is this Dawn's Glory?"
Hermione pulled back far enough to see the item without crossing her eyes.
Her shocked expression was answer enough. Before she could gasp out, "Where did you get that?" he was through the portrait hole and gone again.
###
Ron and Hermione shared a brief glance of disbelief then pelted after him. Malfoy met them at the main junction and pointed down the left-hand corridor.
"If you're looking for Longbottom, he went that way."
"Come on!" Ron yelled. "We can't lose him."
"Why are we chasing after Longbottom?"
Hermione called back over her shoulder, "He has a bloom from Dawn's Glory!"
"Bloody hell!" Malfoy muttered and ran faster.
The three of them caught fractured glimpses of Neville far ahead of them. They stayed just within sight but could never catch up.
"Where's he going?" Ron gasped around a stitch in his side. "He's not headed for the hospital."
"He's headed towards the dungeons," Malfoy reckoned. "Towards Professor Snape's office."
Ron stumbled but kept running. "Neville is going to see PROFESSOR SNAPE? The world's come to an end, and no mistake!"
"I know a shortcut." Draco waved them up a side corridor. "This way."
Ron and Hermione hesitated only a moment before following the Slytherin.
###
Severus threw away still one more useless scrap of paper. He'd known going into his search that the odds were against him. The only remedy for the Devourer's Curse required pollen from a plant not seen on earth in one hundred years. Few wizards alive today, with exceptions such as Albus Dumbledore, remembered ever seeing Dawn's Glory in full bloom. Snape himself had seen the plants only in books and drawings.
When young Mr. Malfoy had asked for the carte blanche library permit, he'd agreed. The activity would give the worried students something to do besides sit around and watch their friend die. It would also keep them out of everyone's way--himself and Poppy most especially.
In all honesty, he searched his own private library for precisely the same reason. He didn't want to sit around hospital and watch the son of James Potter waste away to nothing.
The door to his chamber banged open. Without even so much as a knock, Neville Longbottom lurched into the room. The boy clutched walls, pillars, and desks for support until he collapsed in front of Snape's enormous black oak desk.
"Longbottom--What in Merlin's name--"
Snape moved to help the boy to his feet only to step back when Longbottom thrust something into the space between them. The Potions Master heard a raspy voice, presumably Longbottom's, whisper, "I found it. I found it."
Severus accepted the item before truly looking at it. When his mind realized what lay in his palm, he leaned against his desk and muttered a surprised curse. He stared at the faded, pressed blossom. He touched it with the tip of his finger. It was real.
His own voice raspy soft, he asked, "Where did you get this?"
"That day I got lost," Longbottom gasped. His skin glistened with rivers of sweat. Color flushed his face, and he looked ready to faint. "I found a room. Plants--everywhere. That was--one of them. Found it--caught in my clothes. Saved it--as a memento."
"This room--can you find it again?"
Neville swallowed once and nodded.
"Where is it? Never mind. Just answer me this: Were there more of these plants?"
"Yes, sir." Neville's head bobbed up and down. "Dozens--maybe even hundreds more--just like it."
"Hundreds . . . My god, Longbottom, you may just have saved Harry Potter's life. We need to find the Headmaster right away."
Snape strode out of his office, Longbottom's robes in one hand, the precious bloom in the other. He breezed past three stumbling, gasping students without so much as a glance in their direction.
"Bloody hell, will he ever slow down?" Malfoy grumbled but forced his aching legs to resume the chase.
TBC