30. The Escape
It was only a couple of weeks later when Callie found herself knocking on the door of a London townhouse at two o' clock in the morning. In the middle of a summer rainstorm, no less.
"Come on, open up," she muttered. It suddenly occurred to her that the home's occupants might possibly be on holiday, and that her whole trip had been for nothing.
Or they're just not up at this hour. She banged harder on the door, and to her relief, it opened up. For one confusing second, however, Callie didn't see anyone on the other side.
"'Ello, ma'am!"
A cheerful voice brought her eyes downward, where a house-elf in a little three-piece suit stood before her.
"Uh... hi," Callie returned. "This is the Longbottom residence?"
"Right you are, ma'am," the elf said. "Mistress Augusta has retired for the night, ma'am. Shall I notify her of your presence, ma'am?"
"No," Callie replied. "And don't call me ma'am, I'm only fourteen."
"Puffy apologizes, Miss. Puffy meant no offense."
"That's all right. Is Neville home?"
"Master Neville has retired also, Miss. Shall I fetch him?"
"Please, do."
The elf shut the door on her. For all his ma'am and miss rubbish, he could've invited her in out of the rain. A few minutes later, the door opened again and Neville appeared before her.
"Callie!" he greeted in surprise. A smile crossed his lips but faded quickly as he asked, "What're you doing here, is everything all right?"
"Relatively speaking," she replied. "Can I come in?"
He'd been so caught off guard by her presence, he'd forgotten to invite her. "Of course, come on," he ushered.
He turned on a light as she looked around the sitting room, and Callie was struck by the color scheme. All the furniture, the sofas and chairs, the Persian rug in the center of the room, were in warm tones of red and gold, and she thought this might be what the Gryffindor common room looked like at Hogwarts. Then she wondered if Mrs. Longbottom had done this after her grandson was sorted, or if she had been a Gryffindor herself.
Everything looked quite nice and expensive, and Callie said, "I'm soaking wet, I don't wanna ruin anything."
"No, it's fine," Neville assured her, and then he conjured three towels. He spread one out over a sofa and gave her another. "Take your jacket?" he asked, and she gave it to him. As Callie dried her hair, he hung it up on a coat rack and set the last towel underneath it to catch the dripping water.
"Do you have any luggage?" he asked, coming to join her on the couch.
"No," she said. "I was stupid and pissed off and left without taking anything."
"What happened?" he asked. "Does your mum know you're here?"
Callie sighed. "No," she replied. "Could you get me something to drink? Something... alcoholic, perhaps? I need to take the edge off."
He left for about ten minutes, during which time she wandered about the room looking at the various pictures and tchotchkes. On the fireplace mantle was a picture of a pretty blonde woman and a man vaguely reminiscent of Neville.
His mum and dad, she guessed. The woman was holding what looked to be about a six-month-old baby, and both parents were happily cooing over it. Callie smiled to herself. When Neville reappeared, she said, "Ya know, you never told me their names."
"Frank and Alice," he said.
"Good-looking couple," she mused. "Your mum's so pretty."
"Thanks," he said. "I'll tell her you said that next time I see her."
Turning to him, she asked hesitantly, "Will she... understand you?"
"No," he replied matter-of-factly, "but it's still a nice thing to say."
She rejoined him on the couch, and he handed her one of two mugs.
"Irish coffee," he said.
She couldn't help but grin. "You know how to make an Irish coffee?"
"Uncle Algie likes 'em," he shrugged. "Always has me make 'em when he visits."
"What are you, his servant?" she teased. Although from what she had heard about Uncle Algie, he just might treat Neville as such. "By the way," she said, "you've got a house-elf? Hermione'd kill you."
"Puffy isn't mine, he's Gran's. She did offer to pay him, but he refused." They sipped their coffees, and Neville waited a moment before he asked, "So, what's going on?"
Callie sighed. "It's a long story," she said.
"You in a hurry?"
She grinned. "Well... it started when I first got home. We're not going to the States, by the way."
"Why not?"
"Because," Callie said, "I told my mum that I wanted to go, and why, and she said, 'If you expect me to hide out in America while you stay in Britain, you're either drunk or high or fucked in the head.'"
Neville chuckled. "And I thought your dad passed down his dirty mouth to you."
"Yeah, well... she's a pistol when she's mad."
"A pistol?"
"It's a kind of muggle weapon. And that was just an expression."
"Oh."
"Anyway, it all went downhill from there. Because I tried to argue that another war might be coming on, and she'd be safer if she left the country. And she said, if it's so bad that she'd have to leave, then why should I expect to be safe?"
"Because you're not a muggle."
"That's what I said. But she said I'm not even fifteen years old and there's no way she'd let me to be on my own in the best of times, much less with a war going on."
"You wouldn't have to be alone," Neville cut in, "you could stay here."
"Thanks." She paused to take a sip, then continued. "So, she said that the only way she'd leave Britain was if I came with her. I told her I wasn't going to take off on everybody, that it was my duty to serve the Light Side any way I could, and I wasn't going anywhere." She sipped.
"Then, aside from the fact that I 'definitely wasn't joining up for the wizarding army'- her words - she said, what with Cedric's murder, that maybe I shouldn't go back to Hogwarts this year."
"No," Neville said.
"That's what I said. Of course, she reminded me of the fact that she could pull me out of Hogwarts if she wanted to. 'Muggle or not, I'm your parent,' she said. So I got on a train and came here. Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," he said. "But why didn't you call and tell me you were on your way."
"I stormed out and didn't even think about where I was going," she explained. "Then you were the first person I thought of, and I still had your address in my pocket. Is your gran going to be upset that I'm here?"
"I'll explain it to her if she is." After a pause, he said, "But you should call your mum and tell her where you are, at least."
She gave him a look of mock disappointment. "Must you be so responsible and considerate?" she asked.
"You don't want her to worry, do you?"
No she didn't. It had been about four hours since Callie had stormed out, and by now, her mother was probably wondering where in the hell she was. "Can I use your phone?" she asked.
"Yeah, it's in my room." He stood up. "It's the only one in the house."
She followed him up to the second story; they were both very careful to be quiet so as not to wake Mrs. Longbottom. When Neville opened his bedroom door to let her in, she felt as if she'd walked into one of the Hogwarts greenhouses.
"Bloody hell, Neville, it's a forest in here," she exclaimed. Dozens upon dozens of plants - large and small, common and extraordinary - filled the room.
Sheepishly, he said, "May have gone a little overboard, I guess. But I keep finding species I want to raise myself." He led her over to the phone on his bedside table. As she picked it up to dial, he asked, "You want me to leave you alone?"
"No, it's fine. I won't be long." Her mother answered halfway through the first ring. "It's me," Callie spoke into the mouthpiece. "Stop shouting!" Pause. "I'm in London at Neville's house. I'll be staying here until you realize I'm perfectly capable of being on my own. Goodbye." She hung up. To Neville, she said, "See? Told you it wouldn't be long."
His lip curled into a grin. "Bloody hell," he said. "What'd she say?"
"'Where the hell are you, I've been worried sick.' Least she doesn't have to worry now." She sat on the edge of Neville's bed and he joined her on the other side. "I'm not really going to stay here 'til she realizes. I'd be here 'til the start of term if that were the case."
"You can stay," he offered. "'Til the start of term."
"I can't just invade your gran's house. She probably won't even like it that I'm here now."
"Well, it's not up to her. I say you can stay and you're staying."
Staring at him, a slow smile curled her lip. "Christ, Neville, when did you finally grow a backbone?" she asked.
In a serious tone, he said, "I'm not going to put you out on the street. If she doesn't like it, she can kick me out, too."
Callie smiled. Comrades. "We can go on the run," she joked. "Live off the land. You know how to cultivate things," she said, gesturing around the room.
He smiled at the thought, and said, "Actually, it would only be a few more weeks before we'd be back at Hogwarts." Looking up at her, he asked, "You wanna go?"
Callie grinned. "We don't really have to go off the grid. I actually have money. We could stay in a hotel."
"How much you got?" he asked.
She hesitated, before replying, "Two hundred thousand galleons."
"What?!"
"Shh! Gran," she said, nodding towards the door.
"Two hundred-" He looked away from her, positively shocked by the number. "I thought you were going to say a hundred or something. One-oh-oh, no commas!"
"Well, it's inheritance. From Dad. Some of which he inherited. The rest..." She shrugged. "He was well-paid and good with money."
"What about your mum?" he asked.
"She's got her own money. Could've had some of Dad's converted to pounds, but she wanted me to have it. Ya know, for security."
Neville raised his brows. "That was generous," he said. Again, Callie shrugged. "Christ, Cal, you're loaded."
"You're loaded. Look at the house you live in."
"Gran's loaded," he corrected. "I don't have anything."
"Sell the plants, you'll have a fortune," she joked.
He smirked. "I do have some of mum and dad's things. Heirlooms, ya know?"
She held up her left hand, displaying the bracelet. "So do I."
He noted the piece with a smile. "Two hundred thousand galleons? That must look like nothing compared to what you could buy."
"Yes, my tiara and diamond shoes are on backorder. This chintzy thing is gonna have to go."
He was thoughtful for a second before he remarked, "You said you left with nothing. Did you conjure it?"
"No, I had it on when I left."
"Thought you only wore it on special occasions?"
She grinned sheepishly and said, "At Hogwarts, maybe it's a little showy. But I don't care at home. I just like to wear it."
He reached over and took her hand to survey the bracelet, running his thumb over the top of her wrist.
"I never properly paid you back for it," Callie said after a moment.
"Paid me back? It was a gift."
"I got you a bloody phone for your birthday," she reminded him. "And that wasn't even a real gift. Just an excuse to set you up with one so we could talk over the summer."
"You didn't need an excuse. And I would've bought my own phone so we could do that."
"Yeah, well... I've got to think of something better for the next one. The thirtieth, right?"
"Yeah," he replied. "Twenty-third?"
She nodded. Both of their birthdays were in July.
"We can celebrate together now," Neville said. "While you're here."
Callie considered the thought, and suggested, "We could check into that hotel for the week. I'll pay. Maybe the Chamberlain or the Dragonfly's Wing." These were two of the ritziest hotels in London that only served magical beings, bewitched to stay hidden from muggle view.
"Sounds nice," Neville said thoughtfully. "So long as we don't have to bring Gran along."
Callie grinned devilishly. "Two opposite-sexed people alone in a hotel room together?" she said. "How suggestive."
She could see the realization come over him, and there was that ubiquitous blush of his. "I-" he stammered, "I didn't mean-"
"No, you're too innocent to think about that kind of thing," she teased. Lying down on the bed and propping herself up on her elbow, she added, "I should warn you now though, if we're single when we're forty, I'm marrying you."
She could tell he was... unsettled at having a girl lying on his bed, and honestly, she was having fun with this. He was so easy to mess with, the poor thing. But surprisingly, he lay beside her on his back, casually throwing his arm above his head.
"'Mrs. Callie Longbottom,'" he mused.
"No," she said, shaking her head and moving closer to him. "I'm keeping my name. Daddy's name trumps husband's."
"Of course," he said.
She cuddled up right beside him and rested her head on his chest. "This all right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied, tentatively wrapping his arm around her. And then he shocked the hell out her when he said, "You might wanna get out of those wet clothes though."
She lifted her head and gaped at him. Then she broke out in a huge grin. "Bloody hell, Neville!" she said, playfully punching his arm. "You do think about that kind of thing!"
Grinning himself, he said, "I was only joking. I'm not that innocent, though."
"Really had me fooled, ya did. I'm serious about marrying you when we're forty, so you better have a ring ready."
"You're the rich heiress. How 'bout you get me a ring?"
"Hmph. Will do."
They both got quiet, and Callie found herself drifting. It'd been one hell of a night, and now that things had calmed down, she realized how exhausted she was. She shut her eyes, but after a long while muttered, "'Mr. Neville Warbeck' could work."
"Daddy's name trumps wife's," he replied.
She chuckled tiredly. "Good night, Neville."
"Night, love."
That was the last thing she heard before she fell asleep.
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"What in the name of all that is good and pure!"
That was the first thing she heard when she woke up. She and Neville shot up as they found Mrs. Longbottom standing in the doorway, absolutely aghast at the sight before her.
"What are you-?" The woman stuttered. "What is she-? What is this?!"
"Gran..." Neville began, terrified.
But the woman cut him off, "Don't you 'Gran' me, lad! You get out of that bed and into my parlor, and you-" she turned on Callie "-I don't even know what to say to you, sullying yourself with a boy!"
Five minutes later, Callie stood outside the woman's parlor listening in on her tongue-lashing of Neville.
"Gran, it was nothing, we only slept together!"
"WHAT?!"
"I mean slept in bed together!"
Callie had to stifle her laughter with her hand. Good Christ, he really was innocent. She felt bad for him though. It wasn't his fault she'd shown up in the middle of the night looking for a place to stay. She'd gotten him into this mess, she'd get him out of it.
"Not even fifteen years old and already messing around with some trollop!" Mrs. Longbottom said.
"She is not a trollop!"
Knock, knock, knock.
"What is it?!" the old woman barked. Perhaps she had thought it was Puffy, her servant-elf, knocking. Callie entered instead.
"Please, girl," Mrs. Longbottom said, a little more nicely but still shaken. "Wait for us downstairs. I've got to have a little talk with my grandson."
"Ma'am, I believe this conversation should involve me, too. After all, Neville didn't force me into that bed."
The woman looked from Callie, to her grandson, and back to Callie, who explained, "What you just walked in on was completely innocent. Neville and I got to talking last night and we drifted off. I'd had quite a long day, as I'll explain in a moment."
After a pause, she continued, "But to ease your mind ma'am, you ought to know that nothing... unholy occurred between Neville and I last night. Primarily because he's not attracted to me in the least."
"I-" Neville spoke up, but Callie shot him a warning glance.
"In fact," she went on, "he fancies someone else entirely. Ginny Weasley, he's mad for her. They even attended the Yule Ball together last year."
Again, the woman glanced between them.
"And I'm not a trollop," Callie added. "Trollops are much more popular than I am." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Neville suppressing the urge to laugh.
After a moment, Mrs. Longbottom muttered, "I see." Then, after glancing between them again, she clapped her hands together once and said, "Well! I suppose that clears everything up." She turned on Neville. "Except that you fancy a girl at school, lad. Perhaps you and I still ought to have that little talk."
"Some other time, Gran, please. We have company."
She looked like she wanted to protest, but only said, "Right then. You two, downstairs. I don't want to see you alone together in any room of this house without an open door from now on. Understood?"
"Yes," they both agreed.
"All right, then, off you go," she said, waving them away.
Neville stood and followed Callie out, shutting the door behind them. With a grin, he remarked, "Cunning Slytherin."
"Yes, Salazar would be proud, I think."