Author's Note: Hello! Thank you to everyone who's made it this far! And special thanks go out to those of you who have shown your support with reviews and alerts! This chapter is a bit longer than the others but it covers a lot. I hope you enjoy it!
The Friday following his birthday, Neville left his grandmother's house at six o'clock.
"When does the Potter party start? I thought you said it would last until late? How long do they expect you to celebrate him?" Augusta questioned when Neville told her that he was leaving.
Neville shrugged, "I dunno, Gran."
But he did know, he just didn't want to tell her. There was a stop he wanted to make before he went to Harry's.
The closed ward at St. Mungo's was quiet. Neville supposed that that wasn't much of a surprise, it wasn't exactly the place to be. While Augusta Longbottom liked to visit her son and daughter-in-law only around major holidays, particularly Christmas, Neville had taken to visiting more often since he'd been able to go on his own. He nodded in greeting at a Healer who was there checking in on one of the other patients, a man named Broderick who tended to mumble incessantly whenever he was awake.
"Hello, Mr. Longbottom," she said cheerily in response.
Neville bristled, standing up a little straighter. It was nice, he supposed, to be shown that kind of respect, but it also felt odd. For so many years he'd just been Neville there, and he didn't like to think of what had changed that. Besides, these were people who had seen him in some of his most vulnerable moments, they shouldn't feel the need to change how they addressed him.
He reached the end of the ward and pulled a curtain back slightly, revealing his parents where they lay in adjacent beds. Frank Longbottom was holding a book before him, albeit upside down. Neville thought inexplicably of Luna. He watched his father's face as his eyes darted around the pages in a way that suggested he was looking for something that he would never find. The white-knuckle grip that he used to hold onto the pages made Neville want to look away. Alice, meanwhile, sat cross legged on her bed, her frail body hunched over a piece of parchment from which she was tearing minute scraps. The wispy white hair that covered her head was tucked neatly behind her ears, suggesting to Neville that she'd recently been attended to.
"Hi, Dad," Neville said, "Hi, Mum."
Frank didn't acknowledge the greeting, but Alice's wide eyes met her son's and she nodded her head slightly in a vague semblance of recognition.
Neville walked over to the foot of Alice's bed. "Mind if I sit?" he asked. There wasn't a response, but he hadn't expected one. He sat down gently, careful not to disturb her too much.
He knew it would be a fruitless endeavor, but Neville watched both of his parents silently, searching their faces for any signs of the people that he knew they used to be, the ones from all of those pictures and stories that his grandmother loved to go on about. It was more than a bit disheartening. Neville sighed. Alice had gone back to tearing at the parchment, her fingers moving clumsily. There was no sign of the skill that she had previously possessed, and her face, sallow and aged beyond her years, didn't retain any of the resemblance to his own that Neville knew it once had.
"My friends Harry and Ginny are getting married," Neville said.
This was something that he'd only started doing the last few years, only when he was alone with his parents. His grandmother would have scoffed if she knew that he gave them updates about his life, about his friends and his interests, but Neville held out hope that on some level it would reach them. And besides, sometimes it just felt good to let those things out in that little corner of St. Mungo's, always partitioned off from the rest of the world.
Frank snapped the book shut only to open it again a split-second later and continue his search.
"I'm going to be a groomsman," Neville said, "Ron's the best man, of course. And Ginny chose Luna as her maid of honor with Hermione as another bridesmaid. They're having to rush the planning, but so far it seems that everything is coming together nicely."
The pile of parchment in Alice's lap was growing larger than what was left in her hands.
"I'm happy for them, but sometimes it feels like they're all rushing ahead while I'm left behind." Neville's eyes scoured over the scene before him, over his parents and their decrepit states. Images of the other Order of the Phoenix members, those who were still alive or had been able to die fighting for what they believed, passed through his mind. Maybe, he thought, left behind runs in the family.
Neville was drawn once more to the book his father held. He almost smiled, seeing that it was Holiday with Hags. Lockhart had been moved to a different ward earlier in the year and Neville wondered if perhaps this had been a parting gift. The fact that he couldn't remember writing them hadn't dampened the pride that Gilderoy felt for his many volumes.
"Sometimes I wonder if I should have stayed together with Luna," Neville admitted. He looked in vain for some sort of reaction from either of his parents, but they were both still absorbed in their activities. "I mean, it was the right choice, to break up. We don't want the same things, and we're such good friends, it's for the best. But I just wonder if maybe I wouldn't feel so left out," he said. "Then at least that part of my life would be as advanced as it is for my friends." But Neville's thoughts reached out to the rest of his friends, the ones who he wasn't as close to, and he thought better of his statement. "I suppose that isn't actually true, though. Maybe those four just got lucky." He watched his mother silently for a moment before continuing, "They deserve it though, for what they've been through."
Neville stayed with his parents for a while longer. He told them about his plants, about the still unsolved mystery of his dying Mimbulus mimbletonia, and about the family dinner that they'd had earlier in the week for his birthday. But soon it was half-past seven, the time that the party was to start at. And besides, Neville could never stay there long. Seeing his parents always filled him with the same frustrated sadness, the tightness in his throat and heaviness in his chest that he'd come to expect from the odd mix of grief he would always feel. He grieved both for who his parents had been and for what his life might have been if only they'd been able to survive their attacks unscathed. It always made him feel guilty, though, to depart on account of those feelings. At least he could leave and lessen his discomfort, no one would ever know how much inescapable discomfort his parents would feel for the rest of their lives.
He was halfway to the ward's doors when Neville heard the soft padding of bare feet approaching him. When he turned, he found his mother coming up behind him. "What is it, Mum?" Neville asked.
Alice offered a folded up gum wrapper to him, just the same as she usually did.
Neville took it from her and forced a smile onto his face. "Thank you, Mum," he said. A Healer was already approaching to take her back to her bed as Neville pocketed the wrapper. Knowing that help was right there should they need it, Neville ventured to wrap an arm around his mother's frail shoulders. She stood stiffly in his embrace, and Neville failed to feel the comfort he always longed for on these visits, but as he pulled away he supposed that it had been a valiant effort on both of their parts.
"I'll see you in a few weeks," Neville said as the Healer led his mother away from him. He watched her go, thinking that he didn't really know if that was true, but also that his mother might have no concept of what that meant anymore anyway. Alice didn't look back at her son, but simply disappeared back behind the curtain.
When Neville arrived at Grimmauld Place he was surprised that no noise emerged from the party. In talking to Ginny he'd learned that she, at least, wanted this to be a real blowout celebration. It had been so long since everyone had been together, and she had admitted that she was using Harry's birthday as a lure to get them all in one place, hopefully affording everyone the opportunity to let loose. Neville thought that maybe Ginny was still trying to make up for the lack of carefree days they'd had in their later years at school. He certainly couldn't blame her if that were the case.
Neville realized his error, though, as he climbed the steps to number twelve's door and could suddenly hear faint music coming from inside. The Fidelius charm was still on the house, so he wouldn't be able to hear anything from inside until he was on the property itself. Of course the number of people who knew the secret of its location was quite large, but Neville understood Harry and Ginny's desire to keep the place as secretive as possible. Just because Voldemort was dead didn't mean that his supporters were—that was something Neville knew all too well from his time with the Aurors.
Neville knocked on the door and after a minute it opened to reveal Harry.
"Hello, Neville," Harry said cheerfully, moving over to let him over the threshold and inside the mouth of the long hallway.
"Happy birthday, Harry!" Neville said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as he could. After leaving the hospital his mood was alright, he could breathe easier at least, but he still wasn't necessarily in the mood for a party. Maybe, though, that was exactly why he needed to go.
"You too, mate!" Harry said, shutting the door. They hugged briefly and then Harry started leading Neville down the hall. "Everyone's in the kitchen right now," he said.
Neville looked around. Behind the red and gold streamers that had been hung from seemingly every surface, including the stairs leading as far up as Neville could see, was new wallpaper and fresh paint. "Everything looks great," he said.
"It's basically all Ginny," Harry admitted. "Although originally she'd wanted to do green in here and I'd objected."
Down in the kitchen they found a smattering of old friends. In addition to Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and George there was Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Anthony Goldstein, Padma Patil, and Justin Finch-Fletchly. The music was much louder there. Ginny threw her arms around Neville's shoulders and he thought he could already smell alcohol on her breath when she shouted a greeting. He looked around, waving at everyone, and saw that Ginny wasn't alone. Almost everyone had drinks in hand already and, he noted, more than a few seemed to already be feeling the effects. Lee Jordan was talking even more animatedly than normal while both Ron and Hermione's cheeks were tinged red.
Over the course of the next hour seemingly the entire DA plus others who'd been invited flooded into the house. There were three rooms that contained most of the party, spread out across three stories. The basement kitchen was where to go for drinks. George and Lee were both playing bartender although, Neville noted, Angelina was also stationed there, making sure that they stayed on track despite already having indulged a bit themselves. On the ground floor the dining room held snacks and a large cake in the shape of a hippogriff that was yet to be cut. It was also the quietest room, with no music being played directly into it but rather drifting in from both above and below. On the first floor, meanwhile, the drawing room, which had undergone perhaps the most dramatic change in Harry and Ginny's remodeling, was where almost everyone had congregated, dancing and laughing and singing along to the music. When Neville slid into the room, his first drink of the night in hand, a Weird Sisters song was blasting and he heard Pravarti Patil shout something to Lavender Brown about the Yule Ball.
Neville took a sip of his drink, feeling the warmth slipping down his throat and into his body. He observed the room, including Seamus and Dean dancing wildly on top of a sofa, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet laughing at them, and Cho Chang and Terry Boot huddled in a corner talking.
Movement by the door caught Neville's eye, He turned to see Luna floating in, wearing a gold dress and an updated version of her radish earrings that included what appeared to be acorns as well. She approached him with an airy smile on her face and Neville's thoughts flashed back to what he'd told his mother. He ducked his head then, taking another drink from his glass.
"Evening, Neville," she said. "Have you noticed the puffskein on the couch?"
Neville looked to see what she was talking about. He didn't see a puffskein, he saw a furry looking pillow with a vaguely puffskein-like shape. "Um, I think that's just a cushion, Luna."
Luna frowned, tilting her head to regard it from a different angle. "I suppose you could be right, but I believe it might have something more too it."
He felt a rush of affection for Luna, for her willingness to believe, her easy grace and confidence. It suddenly felt all jumbled in his mind—his current adoration of their friendship mixed with memories of kissing her years ago and the slightly dizzying effect that the firewhiskey was already having.
She moved on, gliding toward where Justin and Ernie Macmillan were seemingly having a good time singing along with the song that still blasted throughout the room.
Neville watched Ernie squirm as Luna spoke. Justin, meanwhile, smiled broadly at Luna and responded to whatever she'd said animatedly. Ernie looked up and, seeing Neville surveying the scene, made his way over.
"Are you two still together then?" Ernie asked.
Taken off guard was one way to describe how Neville felt at being asked that with such a lack of subtlety, blindsided was another. "Err, no," he said, the hand that wasn't holding his drink reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He wondered offhandedly whether or not he needed a haircut.
Ernie stepped closer to Neville, elbowing him conspiratorially. "You still like her, then?"
"No," Neville said, forcing himself to feel sure about it and almost completely believing the sentiment. "We're great friends."
"Hmm," Ernie said. He sipped his drink and Neville mirrored the action.
His glass was half empty, and he noted that George and Lee were making the drinks plenty strong even with a voice of reason present. Perhaps, Neville thought, he should slow down, or at the very least go and get some snacks. His eyes swept the room, looking for a better reason to excuse himself from Ernie. When one couldn't be found, Neville decided that it was better than nothing and noted, "I'm going downstairs to grab some food."
"Oh, excellent idea," Ernie said happily, turning stepping out through the door to the landing.
Neville sighed. He took another sip of his drink and followed.
The dining room was much less crowded than the drawing room. The spread of food on the tables looked freshly replenished and Neville approached it, picking up one of the small plates that they had out and piling it high with snacks.
Ernie did the same beside him. "So what have you been doing? I heard you quit the Aurors. Have to admit I thought that was a bit of a crazy move on your part," he said.
"I've been traveling," Neville said. He took a bite of food and scanned this room. At the end of the table Ron and Hermione were sitting and talking with Oliver Wood, who, it seemed, was explaining something rather complicated given the wide-ranging hand motions he was using. Though there were empty chairs scattered around the room Hermione was perched on Ron's lap, his hands thrown comfortably around her waist.
"That must be nice," Ernie said. "I can't imagine traveling right now. So much to be done here, but I reckon you've had a good time, yeah?"
Ron said something to Wood and both he and Hermione laughed lightly.
"Yeah," Neville said. He wanted nothing more to do with Ernie and his questions. They were valid, he supposed, even if they were a little intrusive, but Neville wasn't in the mood. He moved to join the conversation at the end of the table.
Ron and Hermione smiled at him as he approached, while Wood held out a hand for him to shake. Neville had just sat down when Ernie pulled up a chair and joined as well. His greetings were a bit more curt from Hermione and Ron, but Wood was just as enthusiastic.
"Oliver was just telling us about something that happened at a practice session the other day," Hermione said. She sipped her drink before letting out a small hiccup.
Ron elaborated, "He's assistant-coaching for the Montrose Magpies now."
"Could only stand to be a reserve player for so long," Wood said cheerily.
The conversation carried on, only now with interjections from Ernie. Neville wasn't paying much attention though. He wished that he could focus, that he could enjoy himself, but for whatever reason it just wasn't working that night. He had started looking at a large hutch that sat behind Ron. Inside were trinkets and dishes and, Neville noted with a slightly queasy feeling, a framed picture of the original Order of the Phoenix. His eyes landed on his parents' faces in the picture's crowded lineup. They smiled broadly.
Neville downed the rest of his drink.
He immediately regretted it, however, when he looked up and saw that Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott had arrived.
Thank you so much for reading! It means a lot to me that people are taking the time to read this story, despite the fact that its leads aren't exactly the most popular pairing (understandably). I'm not the best at writing parties—perhaps from a lack of experience—but we'll be seeing more of this one from Hannah's perspective in the next chapter, and things are going to get a little crazy.
