Turning Your Time Around
By: Cheelalaucha
Chapter dedicated to: Mr. Allen, my science teacher.
A; Chapter 3: "The Writer of the Realm"
"Draco Malfoy. You've never heard of him?" Neville asked suspiciously. He still had a weird glare upon Lily.
"No, because there is no such person," Lily replied with a confident voice.
"What are you talking about? 'No such person'? Are you sure?" Neville asked.
How could she not have heard of him? He does make himself known!
"I'm positive. I know of every one around here, and there is no other Malfoy than Lucius in the 1974 school year," Lily told him with a large amount of pride.
"No," Neville began. He didn't know what the heck this girl was talking about. "It's 1999. Why would I want to know about-" (Neville was calculating, not his strong point). "-thirty-five years ago?"
"Twenty-five years ago," Lily corrected, and then realized what she'd said. "Wait, what? No, Now! Are you okay? I think you might have hit your head when you fell. Maybe you should lay down."
"Yea, right," Neville said, thinking she was just as crazy as Lily thought he was. Neville started to move up further on the bed, but stopped when the pain began again in his shoulder. He started to rub it with his other hand again.
"Oh, are you okay?" Lily asked him kindly, seeming to have forgotten about the crazy chat they had just had.
"I've been better," Neville said truthfully.
"I'll go make sure Madam Pomfrey hasn't forgotten about you," Lily said, not meaning it in a bad way. She got up off the side of the bed and walked through the door on the right.
1974? What's with her?
Just then, he saw a picture moving on the table next to him. The picture was in the Daily Prophet...
There, I'll prove it!
He picked up the paper and read the date. "November 11, 1974," Neville read aloud.
What the-? I bet she planted it here. She prolly wants to play a joke on me. 'Neville, the stupid and gullible.' Great.
But, how could he be sure that he wasn't losing his mind? Neville looked around the room, thinking.
Of course, the paintings!
Neville got up from the bed, still clutching his left shoulder with his other hand. He walked over to the closest painting. It was a young woman with wavy blond hair. She had a dark red dress on, and was sitting at a desk, writing. She smiled brightly when Neville spoke to her.
"Hello," Neville said, trying to sound happy and not crazy.
"Hello there, sir. Having a good day?" She replied in a high-pitched voice, still smiling.
"Well, not really. As a matter of fact, it's one of the worst days I've ever had." Neville never took his eyes off the lady in the painting, as he did all too often when he talked. He really was quite shy.
"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there something I can do for you?" She asked him happily.
"Actually, I was wondering if you could tell me something," Neville said, looking thoughtful. "What's the year?"
"The year, sir, is 1974. November, I believe. Why do you ask?" She looked him over, but smiled the whole time.
"Uh...um... thank- thank you." Neville stuttered.
"May I ask your name, sir? I don't get many people to talk to. The last time I talked to someone on the other side was about thirty years ago." Her smile faded a bit, but it was still slightly visible.
"Neville." He watched as she wrote something down in a small book on the desk. He supposed she was writing his name down.
"Thank you, Neville. You don't know how nice it is to be talking to someone. Do you have many people to talk to out there?"
Neville frowned. Oh yeah, he had tons of people. If only all dreams could come true... "I hardly have any friends. I'm just a - what was it muggles say? Oh yeah - geek."
"I'm sorry that people can't see how kind you are. That's their problem." Her smile became bright again as she watched Neville.
"Um, may I ask what your name is?" Neville asked her, recovering from his tiny depression trip.
"Cherry-Rose. Hense the red dress." She replied, waving down at her flowing gown.
"That's a pretty name," Neville said, more meaning to say it to himself than to her.
"Why thank you, Neville. You know, when I was your age, people actually called me Esor. Uh, 'rose' backwards. You're welcome to call me that too."
Her words were making his day brighter with every sentence. He had made a new friend. That's always something to feel happy about, especially for Neville since he didn't have many.
"Thank you," Neville said, a smile overcoming his face.
Just then, Lily came walking back into the room, followed by Madam Pomfrey.
"Talk to you later, for sure," Neville whispered to her. She smiled again, and nodded. Neville limped slowly back towards the bed he'd been sitting on before. He couldn't walk properly since his back was hurting him so much.
"Here," Madam Pomfrey said to him, holding out a small bottle. "Take this and wait ten minutes before you lay down. You'll stay here for the rest of the night, understood?"
"Yes," Neville agreed to the question again. He took the bottle from her and she walked back out of the room. When she was out of sight, Lily sat down on the bed again. Neville did the same.
"She did forget about you, sorry. It took me a while to find her. She was down in the Great Hall, helping with someone who was getting cursed. Those freaks. Potter's the biggest though," Lily said, a look of disgust on her face.
"Potter?" Neville asked, taking his eyes off the potion that seemed to be moving in the bottle.
"Yeah, James Potter. How the heck did he get in Gryffindor anyway? He's always picking on the people who around him. I guess Snape did deserve it a bit, but Potter shouldn't have taken it so far." Lily glanced at Neville's face. He seemed so confused that words couldn't express it. "Are you okay?" Lily asked him.
Neville thought about what she'd said for a moment, then came to a conclusion. He replied, "Just crazy, but who isn't now a days?"
Lily raised an eyebrow at him. But, she looked at the potion just then. It was indeed moving inside the bottle. "I think you should drink it before it jumps out of there," Lily told him.
Neville agreed. He tipped the bottle up and drank the thick liquid. It didn't taste like anything at first, but after a few seconds, he got a sour lemon taste all through his mouth. "Eh, that's horrible," Neville said, trying to get the taste off his tongue. For the first five minutes after, they just sat in silence. After that, Lily began humming a song Neville did not know.
"What is that you're humming?" Neville asked.
Lily smiled at him. "It's called 'Merlin's March'.My father was a singer, so he'd always sing it to me."
"Really? Your dad? Wow." Neville then thought about something he hadn't thought of in a long time. He wondered what his father had been like.
Was he a 'geek' too? Naw, I bet he was brave. Nothing like me.
Then it hit him - was his father here?
"Lily, you know everyone, right?" Neville asked.
"Well, I know OF everyone. I don't know them personally. Why?" She replied.
"Is there a Frank Longbottom here?" Neville wanted desperately to see his father.. sane.
Lily sat there a second, thinking. "Uh... there used to be."
"Used to be?" Neville repeated.
"Um, yeah. He was here until 5th year. After that, I never saw him again. I think he went to a different school or something," Lily recalled to him.
Neville's face got a frown on it then. This was the one chance he had to see him, and he wasn't there. But, wait, there's still his mom. "What about an Alice Fulinar?" Neville asked desperately.
"Oh, she's here. She's a Hufflepuff."
Yes! I can see mum! Wait, I can see mum. Why in the world is that? I have to be in the wrong time. Wait- did she say James Potter, and.. Snape? Bloody hell, what's going on!
By this time, the 10 minutes was up, and Neville was feeling some relief of the pain in his back and shoulder. He wanted to run down to the Great Hall to see his mum, but he knew he'd never get there with his back the way it was. Neville frowned again, but knew that at least he could see her later.
"I think I'm going to go to sleep," Neville said to Lily.
"Okay. Well, I'll be back tomorrow morning to see you," Lily told him. She got up and waved goodbye. She walked out the door, leaving Neville to get into bed.
It took him a long while to get under the coverings because of his back. Every time he moved too quickly, his shoulder gave a sharp pain. Aching, Neville pulled the covers to his chin, and closed his eyes.
James Potter, Snape, and this Lily girl. I hate that Malfoy. I know he did this, he's the only one who would have. But, I guess if it wasn't me, it'd be Ron laying here. Oh well...
The sound of a song entered the air as Esor began to sing. She must have noticed how much he liked Lily's humming.
"Thanks," Neville whispered.
He then drifted into a deep sleep, dreaming about what his mum and dad were like.
A/N: Revised May 17, 2005.