TITLE: Leaving Home
CONTINUITY: Uh...wherever you think it fits in both fandoms?
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to JK Rowling, . I just fantasize about them.
NOTES: This is a semi-sequel to my story, "Going Home," (available at my website). This was written for the current Pairing List That Ate Fandom. It's #232, but I don't wish to tell you who the characters are. You'll see.
"Trust me, Rodney," John said from behind him, "this one you'll want to meet."

Rodney didn't look up from the power equations flashing their alluring call on the laptop. "Seen one obnoxious kid with a stupid stick, seen 'em all."

"Not really."

Rolling his eyes, Rodney said, "Is it that Lord Volesnort the Malfoy brat was on about? Stun him and feed him to the Wraith. Anyone Malfoy likes is someone we don't need here."

"No, I don't think this is Lord Voldemort." John's voice was filled with amusement.

With a dramatic sigh, Rodney spun his chair. John leaned in the doorway, one hand on the shoulder of a young boy who would have looked at home around a Dungeons & Dragons table, except for the British schoolboy robes.

Rodney blinked. "You're not that Harry person, are you?"

The boy, his bowl cut painfully familiar, clutched his stick--wand, whatever--with a white-knuckle grip. "Dr. McKay, sir? I'm Neville Longbottom. Um..." He trailed off, his face pale.

John raised his eyebrows at Rodney.

"Sit down." Rodney pointed peremptorily at a chair.

John gave him a look that clearly said, 'Be nice to the kid. Can't you see he's terrified?'

"And relax," Rodney said as the kid sat down, "I'm not going to eat you."

Neville didn't look all that reassured, clutching his stick so hard it looked like he'd snap it in half.

Rodney drummed his fingers on the laptop case. "I take it this means that Malfoy made it back safely."

"Yes, sir."

"Damn."

"Rodney!"

He scowled. "I mean, oh, how nice. Are you a friend of his?"

"No!" Neville shook his head furiously.

"Good. Why are you here?"

John, leaning one hip against an adjacent table, sighed in a long-suffering fashion. "It's okay, Neville. I promise that Rodney's bark is worse than his bite."

Neville gave Rodney a look filled with even more terror. "You're...an animagus?" he whispered.

Rodney frowned at him. "Does that mean genius? Never mind. Just tell me why you're here so I can get back to my work, which," he shot a venomous look at John, "does not actually include babysitting, last time I checked."

"Um..."

"Any day now, I have work to do."

"Rodney!" John was getting annoyed now. "Let the kid speak."

Neville took a deep breath, then spit the words out. "Draco said you were all stupid, but Professor Dumbledore seemed impressed that you'd used magic and science together and maybe you could help us defeat You-Know-Who but nobody was allowed to try and come here because it was dangerous." He gasped for breath.

Rodney frowned, sorting through that. "But you came anyway."

Neville stared down at the floor. "I'm not that good at things. Everybody thinks I'm kind of useless. I wanted to do something important."

Despite himself, Rodney felt the stirring of fellow feeling for the kid. He stomped on it ruthlessly. "So, now you're here. What are we supposed to do with you? Teach you science?"

"No." Neville looked up, eyes wide. "Come back with me and help us win the war."

Rodney stared up at the ceiling. "One war isn't enough?" he asked the universe. "I know I'm brilliant, but don't you think that's pushing things?"

--end--