Harry Potter is from the creative genius that is J.K. Rowling. We are not her. This is merely a fan fiction to tide us over until Book 6.
A/N: We would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for once again reviewing this fanfiction. We hope you continue to enjoy it.
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Neville ducked a Jelly Legs Jinx that sent the chair behind him dancing into a wall. He grabbed Alaire by the hand and started to drag her out of the room. Pulling her arm around his shoulders, he half dragged, half guided her away from the crowd. A bright flash of yellowish-green light rushed across the room catching his attention. He watched in horror as it struck Ginny Weasley in the chest. The younger girl slumped to the floor. Immediately beside her was Malfoy. His eyes turned to narrow slits as he looked back over the crowd to see who struck his beloved. The magic in the air got tense.
No one would have any doubt how Draco Malfoy felt about Ginny Weasley in a moment, Neville through as he hastily picked up Alaire and rushed her out of the room and up the staircase. A moment later a wave of magic flowed out of the great hall and all went silent.
When Neville and Alaire finally reached a spot away from other students, Neville set Alaire and watched in horror as she sank down to the floor holding her forehead and rocking back and forth.
"Alaire! Alaire! Did you get hit? Do we need to go to Madame Pomfrey?" Neville said quite aware of how panicked his voice was as it echoed off the walls.
Alaire answered with a low moan as she grabbed her stomach. "Come on! We're going to hospital."
Alaire grabbed his arm at this and shook her head no. "No. Just take me, just take me somewhere quiet," he barely groaned.
Neville thought for a moment, beads of sweat running down his forehead. Somewhere quiet.. The common room would be a riot by now. The hospital would be full of victims. The only place he knew that was quiet and private was his study.
"Can you make it up some stairs?" he asked cautiously, knowing full well that he barely was able to carry here where they were.. Alaire nodded yes. Neville helped her stand then directed her toward a flight of stairs praying that it wouldn't decide to move on them.
Halfway up the steps, the stairway began to sway. Luckily, it landed on the exact floor Neville and Alaire needed to go to. Neville actually thanked the stonework as they stepped off of the 'escalator' and made their way down the darkened hall to his study.
"Just a little bit more," Neville encouraged Alaire as she began to slump in his arms. He finally stopped and picked her up with memories of Hermione in the Ministry and how fragile Alaire looked in the great hall flooding his mind.
"Alohamora Floribunda!" he shouted at a painting of a greenhouse on the wall. The door flew open to reveal a small, cozy study and greenhouse. There were plants everywhere, on shelves near the ceiling, on stands on the floor, on the windowsill, on tables, on the desk, and even one hanging from the bathroom door. Crunching across the dirt and gravel on the floor, Neville carried Alaire over to a dingy, worn-out couch he had acquired with the room.
Gently, he laid Alaire on the couch. Rushing across the room Neville gathered a container of water and ripped a piece of cloth off his shirt. Dipping the cloth in the water, he wiped Alaire's forehead with it. "Is that better?"
Alaire nodded. With a sigh, she fumbled at a necklace that she wore under her shirt. When it became obvious what she wanted, Neville carefully pulled the pendant out of her shirt. It was a small metal vial with a broom laid over a red cross.
"Its medicine," Alaire managed to gasp. Neville gave it a shake and could hear pills inside.
"Don't worry. I'll do it." Neville laid the container down on the couch and disappeared into the small bathroom. He came back with a glass of cold water, a small handtowel, and a small bucket. "Here," he lifted her head and gave her a drink of water. Then, carefully, he unscrewed the top of the vial. "How many?"
Alaire managed to convey the number two which he then shook out into his hand.
"Ok, one more time," he said gently. He went to place the pills in her hand and lift Alaire's head to put it in his lap but then jumped back as she grabbed the pail and leaned over the edge of the couch. Neville looked away out of privacy and out of nausea himself. When the retching sounds ended, he took the damp rag and wiped her face.
"I was afraid of that. My cousin get migraines and its awful," he said quietly as Alaire just nodded. "Ready to try your medicine now?"
Another nod. Neville gingerly placed the meds in her mouth and gave her another drink of water. This time everything stayed down. The room grew quiet as they waited for the medicine to take affect. Neville placed her head in his lap and watched as she breathed. He then did a quick cleaning spell took care of things in the bucket, and finally, after a tense fifteen minutes, Alaire's eyes fluttered open. She looked around and seeing Neville tried to smile.
"Back among the living?" Neville teased, relaxing now that she was better.
"Yeah. Wow, that was unpleasant."
"Well, I'm not used to beautiful girls passing out on me," Neville said then realizing what he had just said began to blush.
"I bet you say that to all the girls who throw up on you," she said weakly.
They both snickered causing Alaire to grab her head again and sit up a bit moving a bit away from Neville incase she got ill again.. After a few moments silence, Alaire turned to look more clearly at Neville.
"I guess you'd like to know what happened?"
"It looked like a migraine. My cousin has those."
Alaire smiled at him and patted the couch beside her. "Come here and I'll tell you."
Neville moved over to her and she took his hand. All she could feel was concern tinged with fear and love. No condemnation. No anger. No selfishness. It was just the balm to her soul that she needed after the melee at the dance.
"Neville," she took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. She could feel her own tearing up as she feared his reaction to her news. "Neville, I am an empath."
Neville continued to look at her. He didn't understand. She took a deep breath. It was all or nothing.
"I-I can feel your emotions especially when I touch you. I know exactly how you feel right now."
Neville fought the urge to jerk his hand back. She knew how he felt? That meant she had always known how he regarded her. His heart felt like it was going to explode in terror. Alaire tightened her grip on his hand.
He was repulsed, she thought in panic. He wanted to take his hand away. It was going to be like before. She couldn't stand the thought.
"Neville, please, please, don't leave," she begged, a tear streaming down her right cheek. "Let me explain. You owe a friend that."
"I-I wasn't going to leave," Neville lied then thought that she knew he was probably lying.
"I hoped you wouldn't when I finally told you. That would be . . ." Alaire looked away for a moment as more tears came to her already sore and red eyes. "I couldn't stand it."
Neville started to speak but Alaire interrupted him.
"Let me tell you the whole story before you make up your mind about me," she pleaded. Neville looked over at her. The tone of her voice made it sound like her very heart was breaking and it was killing him. He couldn't deny her anything at that point in time. Watching her, he saw her sit upright so that she could face him.
"I found out that I was empathic when I was fifteen. One day, I was just reading in my room when my mom and dad got into a fight. I think it was over my mom's job. Anyway, I just remember one minute I was trying to ignore them and the next I was in the mental ward at the local wizarding hospital. My parent's anger overloaded my circuits and put me in a coma."
Neville's eyes grew wide with concern. "That could've happened tonight."
"But you rescued me," she said with a smile, her headache was beginning to fade.
"Anyway, my parents put me in a program to train me how to tune people in and out. Within a year, I pretty much had things in control. Things were going fine until my best friend and I liked the same guy in our school. She began to get jealous and kept asking me to try to tune him in to see who he liked."
Alaire pulled up her knees and leaned forward against Neville for comfort as she relived the memory.
"I finally gave in against my better judgment. I walked by him and accidentally dropped my books. When he reached out to help, I grabbed his hand to read him. Turns out he really liked me. I was pretty happy but my friend wasn't. She," Alaire stopped as the throbbing in her head came back. "She, um, she told everyone in the school about my 'gift'. She told everyone that I was spying on them."
"And the guy?"
"Oh, he hared off like everyone else. Soon, no one would speak to me or come near me. I was miserable. But my mom knew about Hogwarts because my cousin comes here. She thought a fresh start would help. So here I am."
"So you don't go around 'feeling' everyone, do you?" he asked cautiously.
"No. Can you imagine, Neville, what it would feel like to walk down a hall and feel the jealousy, the dislike, the lust, and the love of everyone you brushed against?"
Neville shook his head. "It'd be pretty bad. I just hate being in a room alone with Snape knowing he hates me."
"Snape just wants perfection out of everyone. With a little more confidence, you could stand up to him."
"This from someone who got tossed out of the kitchen for making gumbo?"
"Oh, that. Well, Snape and I have come to an understanding."
"An understanding?" Neville raised his eyebrows teasingly.
"Not like that, moron!" she said happily that Neville was still joking with her and had not run out of the room screaming like a lunatic. "He's helping train my empathy so that I can better control it."
"Oh. Has he helped?"
"Yeah. He's not had a happy life, Neville. He made some terrible, terrible decisions but he's OK now. He's trying to make up for some things."
"Could have fooled me," Neville said with a chuckle as he let this new information sink in. After a few tense moments, he asked, "So how many people at Hogwarts now about your . . . gift?"
"Professor Dumbledore, of course. Professor McGonagall. Madame Pomfrey. Professor Snape. Harry. You."
Neville's eyebrows went up. "Harry knows?" he said in a more accusing tone than he meant.
Alaire could feel the jealousy rising in Neville along with a modicum of hurt.
"Oh, don't start, Neville. If I had told you first, Harry would have been upset. Someone had to be first. We just never had a chance to talk about it before. And its not like I'm about to make an announcement in the common room, 'Hey, everyone, walk on over here and I'll you just what's going on in your head and heart!' I'm trying to avoid that, you know."
"Sorry. Don't get so touchy."
Alaire blinked back a tear and grabbed Neville's hand again.. "You don't mean literally do you?"
"Alaire," Neville sighed, placing his other hand on top of Alaire's, so his hands enveloped hers. "You are the only person I know that can make me angry. Everyone else just ignores me or treats me like I'm in the background. But you . . . you . . ."
"Expect you to act like a normal human being. I think that's a compliment."
The two sat and looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. Finally Neville asked, "Can you tune people out?"
"Yes. I do it all the time."
"Can you tune people in?"
"Yes."
"Like tonight?"
"Like tonight."
Silence fell again. "I guess I need to go to bed. My head is a little better now. I just need to sleep it off, sort like a psychic hangover. So if you've nothing more to say . . ." Alaire said softly as she moved to get off the couch. She was interrupted by Neville's voice.
"Don't go."
"Why?" she asked turning to face him.
"You don't know?" he asked softly, hoping she was "reading" him or at least that she could hear his heart as it about pounded out of his chest.
She made her way back over to him and leaned down. Her breath tickled his lips as he sucked in his breath waiting . . . but there was no kiss. Alaire was speaking softly.
"No, Neville, I don't. I refuse to read your emotions to you. That's something that you have to figure out for yourself dear." Then she leaned over, and kissed him softly on the cheek. "And I suggest you hurry up."
Then she smiled and made her way over to the door. "Oh and this is a lovely place you've got here. It's wonderful," she said before leaving.
Neville found his breath and stared amazed at the door. What had just happened? He know what didn't happen. Shaking his head, he got up to leave, never noticing that the rose in the other room suddenly had grown a bud . . . and was just waiting to bloom into a flower..