Disclaimer: 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 in July.
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Alaire and Neville spent almost an hour with his parents talking to his mother and making paper chains. Occasionally Alice Longbottom would give a small smile but spent a similar amount of time staring into empty space. Neville's Gran was astounded by Alice's interactions with her son and after a few minutes of observation left to discuss the situation with the medical staff. When she returned she sat quietly beside her son reaching out to stroke his hair while watching her grandson.
When Neville and Alaire eventually made it back to Hogwarts later that day, they were greeted by the grim faces of Dumbledore and Snape.
"Ah, Ms. Goodnight. Mr. Longbottom. We were beginning to worry."
"Sorry, sir. It's just that things took longer as the hospital than I expected."
"Actually, Mr. Longbottom," Snape drawled, "News has already reached us concerning your parents."
Alaire looked from the headmaster to Snape. "Am I in trouble? All I did was-"
Snape held up his hand and interrupted her. "And used the training that I have given you on someone who did not agree to it."
"How could she? She's-She's" Alaire searched for words. "Besides it all turned out all right. Neville knows how she feels now. And that's a great thing!"
"Ms. Goodknight, did you 'view' any memories from Ms. Longbottom?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, sir. Only emotions. I believe she recognizes Neville but she is more like a child who doesn't know why things are happening to her." Alaire was surprised to feel Snape almost sigh in relief at her words. "Why?"
"Neville, do you mind if I explain a few things to Alaire?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, sir. But I'M confused now. Why would my mother communicating be so important?"
Snape's sharp voice cut through the air. "If word got out that your mother was recovering, Neville, we are afraid that someone would try to come into the hospital and finish off the job that they started over seventeen years ago," Snape told him bluntly. "Old grudges die hard, as YOU well know."
Alaire didn't need to feel Neville's fear. Her own heart had stopped. If someone came after his mother, they would come after him and then . . . But oddly the strongest fear seemed to be seeping from Professor Snape who refused to look at her.
"Exactly." Snape said with a worried look. "You understand now? We ask you to make a wizard's promise not to speak about this to anyone. I'm sorry."
Alaire and Neville both nodded.
"But what about my Gran?"
"We've sent Arthur Weasley to speak with her. She respects him and will listen to him. I have no worries about her," Dumbledore said. "She understands that while we are overjoyed at your mother's progress, Alice Longbottom must be protected until this war is over. I'm afraid this is a bittersweet victory for you."
"I-I understand. I'd do anything to protect my parents. You can trust us, sir." Neville put forth a shaky hand to Dumbledore who shook it with a smile. Neville then turned to Snape. "Sir?"
He put out his hand. Snape stared at him for a moment then his usual frown lifted a millimeter. He took Neville's sweaty hand and gave it a quick, firm shake.
They quickly left and went to Neville's study. Alaire was exhausted from her encounter at the hospital and Neville was still shaky from Dumbledore's warning. She flopped down on Neville's dingy couch and sighed.
"Well, I did some good and I did some bad today. Fifty-fifty ain't bad."
Neville bent down and pulled her into his arms. "I wouldn't care if Bellatrix Lestrange burst through that door right now and cursed me into oblivion. Today was one of the happiest of my life thanks to you."
Alaire could only smile wearily. Silently she prayed as he held her that Neville would never live to regret those words.
"Can we stay here tonight, please? I promise I'll be good." Alaire asked in her best whiny voice. "I'm so tired. I just want to lay down and cuddle up with you."
"Won't the others wonder about us? I'd hate to face Harry and Ron's sarcasm in the morning. Hermione will want to report us. And Ginny will," he trailed off as he looked down at Alaire's pouty face then at her shirt which she had unbuttoned at the top. He sighed. He now had an official weakness.
"Oh, I guess, so. You promise to behave?"
"Do I have to promise? I'd hate to accidentally break that bond."
Neville bent down to kiss her. "We'll discuss exactly what's good and bad later."
Alaire soon drifted off to sleep with her head pillowed on Neville's shoulder and her legs intertwined with his. Sleep took its time in reaching Neville, however.
Questions plagued him. Why would his mother react to Alaire now, after all this time, when he had been talking to her and holding her hand his entire life? Was his mother also empathic? Was she trying to communicate through Alaire? And why was Snape so concerned with his mother's health? He had also noticed that Snape's face seemed paler than usual (which was difficult in Neville's opinion). And why had Snape shook his hand? Snape hated him. Didn't he? As he fell asleep, he could hear his mother humming and his dreams were filled with a dark figure with a pale, pale face.
When they awoke the next morning, Alaire found she was too comfortable to move. She was snuggled against Neville and he had his arm wrapped protectively around her waist pulling her toward him.
"Good morning, love," she whispered pressing kisses to the corner of his lips.
"Morning," he muttered still half asleep.
Alaire snuggled closer to him and sighed. "Neville?"
"Hum?"
"How 'bout we don't go back to the dormitory the rest of the week?" she asked as she snaked a hand under his shirt.
"Hum, what?" he asked trying to wake up a bit more.
"It's just so peaceful here," Alaire said as she lifted her leg a bit to caress Neville's hip with it. That definitely woke him up. "I just think it would be nice to have some private time until my parents get here on Friday."
"Alaire, as much as I would love to do that," he said biting back a moan as she rubbed against him. "I want to be able to at least be able to look your father in the eyes when I meet him without feeling guilty about what I've been doing with his daughter."
"Do you feel guilty?" she purred.
"Not now but I bloody will if you don't stop that," he said struggling to sit up. Alaire giggled as she sat up too and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
"Sorry."
"No, you're not," Neville teased.
"You're right! I'm not!" Alaire smiled before her face took a serious turn. "I'm scared they won't like Hogwarts and will want me to leave. I don't think I can bear it."
"They'll do no such thing," Neville said sternly as he turned and hugged her. "When will they be here?"
"Friday."
"Then Friday, we'll meet them together," he said giving her a kiss. "And convince them how important it is that you stay right where you are!"
"And until then?"
"Oh, I'm sure we can find something to do."
On Friday, Neville and Alaire stood in the headmaster's office alone. Neville watched in amazement as the normally bold Alaire was reduced to a semi-nervous wreck as she continued to pace the floor.
"What's the matter?"
"I've been meaning to warn you a bit about Dad. He's a tad over protective of me, and he is rather blunt. Make that extremely blunt. All right, he's about as subtle as a sword through your skull, but he means well. I just hope he's not in a bad mood from all the traveling."
"How far do they have to come?" Neville asked nervously.
"Mom and Dad had to take a portkey from New Orleans to New York City then to Greenland and then another to the English customs office. Finally, they floo here," Alaire explained. "I told mom all about you the last time we spoke. I'm sure she's taken care of dad."
"What do you mean?" Neville asked wearily before the fireplace blasted to life.
A petite woman with dark auburn hair stepped through the fireplace. Looking up, she quickly launched herself into an embrace with Alaire.
"Mom!" Alaire said hugging her back.
"Oh, darling! England has done wonders for you, but I have missed you so much," the woman said before taking a step back and looking at Neville. "And who is this dashing young man with you?"
"Neville Longbottom," Neville said holding out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Jeraldine," Alaire's mother said embracing him. "My daughter certainly knows how to pick them."
Alaire and Neville both blushed as the floo raged again. A tall, muscular, sandy-haired man stepped through holding several suitcases.
"Why is it always my job to carry the luggage?" he muttered.
"Daddy!" Alaire yelled rushing to hug him.
"Hello, princess," he said dropping the bags to hug her. "Everything's going well."
"Perfectly," she said stepping back. "Good, good. Give your old dad a minute. I think your mother packed the whole house in these blasted things," he said as he picked up the bags. It was then he looked up and saw Neville.
Never before had Neville seen a man's eyes go from humorous to homicidal so quickly. "And who are you?" he asked as he surveyed the young man from head to toe.
"Dave," Alaire's mother warned.
"Neville Longbottom, sir," Neville said reaching out his hand to shake his hand.
Instead of shaking his hand, Mr. Goodnight tossed a suitcase at Neville. "Here! Make yourself useful." Neville grabbed hold of the suitcase and was quickly tossed another one.
Taking both of them, he whispered, "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Alaire sighed. "Dad just doesn't like the idea of me seeing anyone, I think."
"Oh," Neville looked over to Alaire's parents to see her mother having some words with her father who kept glaring at Neville. David Goodnight did not look like happy in any form of the word. Neville glanced down at Mr. Goodnight's hands. They were clenched into fists the size of small melons. Now he knew where Alaire got her temper.
"Neville, dear," Jeraldine said coming up to him. "Thank you so very much for agreeing to help my rather rude husband carry our bags. I'm afraid we have some Christmas presents in there that might not take too kindly to being magicked away."
"It's fine."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"All right then, let's see our room, shall we?" Jeraldine said as she linked arms with Alaire and headed out the door. Neville waited for Dave Goodnight to exit before he followed, wondering why on earth Alaire's father didn't like him.
Dumbledore had picked a nice set of rooms just a wing away from the Gryffindor Tower for Alaire's parents. The suite seemed vast compared to the dormitory rooms. There was a kitchen, sitting room, and full bathroom as well as a master bedroom. Alaire stood by the doorway to keep it open as her father and Neville entered. Jeraldine had already made her way into the kitchen.
"We'll put these in the master room," Mr. Goodnight grunted as Neville followed him. Neville looked behind him to see Alaire give him a supporting smile, before she followed her mother into the kitchen.
"Now then," Dave Goodnight said as he dropped the bags in the bedroom and quickly turned toward Neville in a predatory way, wand drawn.
Neville dropped the suitcases and like lightning had jumped from his spot and drawn his wand too. Unfortunately, Mr. Goodnight had anticipated the movement and had already cast a spell in Neville's intended direction. "Soul versa!"
The spell partially struck Neville as he cast a protection charm around him. What spell came through Neville's charm hit him in the chest and a bluish glow overtook him.
"Got quick reflexes this one," Dave Goodnight said as he sat down on the edge of the bed and eyed his prey.
"Daddy, no!" yelled Alaire as she rushed up to Neville and placed herself between him and her father.
"David, what did you do?" shrieked Jeraldine, as she came out of the kitchen and placed her hands on her hips. Her nostrils were flaring with anger.
Neville checked himself over. As far as he could tell nothing was the matter with him. "I think I'm all right," he told the two women. Neither of which seemed to hear them as they glared at the man seated before them.
"Daddy, what did you do to him?" Alaire said as tears formed in her eyes.
"Nothing much baby, just making sure you've been treated right," Mr. Goodnight said before turning sharply to Neville. "Now then what are your intentions toward my daughter?"
The question shocked Neville, but before he realized it, he was replying to the question.
"I intend to make her happy, let no bad befall her, and hurt anyone that hurts her. I will do whatever she asks of me for no other reason than because she requested it. I will honor her forever. Love her until there are no longer stars in the heavens and worship her with my dying breath."
Neville had no idea where those elegant words had come from. Of course he felt that way, but had never vocalized it. In the background he could hear Alaire's mom sighing happily. He looked at Alaire, whose eyes were on his and whose hand was covering her mouth in shock.
"Well then, good," Mr. Goodnight grunted, clearly not expecting that answer. "And how well do you know my daughter?"
"As well as the sun knows the sky and the earth knows the wind."
"Let me put this ANOTHER way. How intimately do you know her?"
"DADDY!" shrieked Alaire.
"DAVID! THAT IS ENOUGH!" bellowed Jeraldine.
Neville fidgeted, but his mouth acted on its own accord. "Not as well as parts of me would like to, but as well as she has requested. I do nothing along those lines without prompting from her. I do not overstep boundaries that I have placed on myself or believe she has placed on me. I honor and respect her and will continue to do so with my dying breath."
It seemed as if Mr. Goodnight didn't quite like that answer.
Neville began to wish he had completed animagus training. Turning into a bird and flying out of the room seemed like a perfectly logical idea at the moment . . . unless, of course, Dave Goodnight was a trained huntsman. He probably was.
"I suggest," Jeraldine Goodnight said in an almost hiss to her husband. "That this inquisition end before you end up sleeping on the sofa for the rest of our marriage. You are already sleeping on the couch for the rest of this visit. Neville has far surpassed anything I could have hoped for. If you do not release him and let Alaire take the poor boy back to the dormitory right now, things will get VERY unpleasant VERY quickly for you."
Gulping, Dave Goodnight nodded and swished his wand. The blue haze around Neville evaporated.
"No hard feelings then, son?" Mr. Goodnight asked timidly as his wife scowled at him.
"None, sir," Neville said as Alaire quickly drug him from the room. On the other side of the door, Neville collapsed against the castle walls. "What the hell was that?"
"Oh, Neville, I am so sorry," Alaire said flushed in embarassment. "That was a soul truth spell Dad cast on you. It reveals the truth hidden in your subconscious and conscious thoughts. Lawyers are allowed to use it in the U.S. when questioning people on the stand. He shouldn't have done that to you."
The same sentiment was being bellowed a second later by Alaire's mother. Neville and Alaire could hear her father trying to explain himself.
"Come on. Let me walk you back to the dormitory," Alaire said linking her arm in Neville's. "I have to go back later. I'll probably spend most of the week with them until they go. I understand if I won't see much of you."
"What?" Neville asked.
"I mean after what Dad did –"
"I think your mother is putting your father straight now. I'm not letting you go back there and have him demand an explanation for that 'intimately' question by yourself."
"God, you're wonderful," Alaire said as she stopped, wrapped her arms around Neville's neck. Neville pulled her against him and kissed her soundly.
"But you are going to make this up to me right?" he asked jokingly.
"Oh, most definitely," she said seductively as she kissed him again. "Once my parents have left that is. Oh, I have plans for you, Neville Longbottom."