Happy Birthday to LeonisAriesBlack! I know you have had a really tough year this past year and I hope that this birthday present might cheer you up a little bit. As you reminded me, last year on your birthday I posted a chapter about Neville Longbottom. It is only fair that this year that you get to read another chapter that has Neville in it, even though we are not following his point of view. I do hope that you and all other readers enjoy this chapter.


Chapter 54: Michael

Gracewood Hall, Exmoor, Somerset, England

May 20, 1987

"Does this look right to you?"

The question startled Michael from reading through the book in his lap. He looked up from the book to stare at the potted nettle fern that his cousin, the Lord Longbottom, had been pruning. He took a moment to carefully look at the fern and then he looked back at his book and thumbed back a few pages. Upon finding the correct page, he stared at the picture of the fern in the book and he slowly nodded. "Yeah, that looks good. The instructions said to gently clip the stems at an angle and it looks like you did a good job."

His cousin smiled at him. "Thanks," he said. "I understand the instructions easier when you read them out to me."

Michael's brow furrowed as he contemplated what Neville had just revealed. "You don't understand it when you read it?" he asked in curiosity. Michael's mother had been a Gryffindor, but his father had been a Ravenclaw. Michael took after his father with his love of books. He enjoyed reading instructional books and he easily understood the instructions. He also loved novels where he could get lost in fantasy worlds. His father was the proud owner of Whizz Hard Books, one of the best publishing houses in the Wizarding World. Michael often went to the office with his father when his mother was too busy to watch him. He would sit in a corner with a mountain of books and lose himself for several hours. If it were not for his personal House-Elf, Iril, then Michael would be so lost in the stories he read that he would forget to eat.

Neville seemed to think about the question before answering. Michael liked that about Neville. He didn't just blurt out answers without taking a few moments to consider his thoughts. Michael didn't have a lot of friends, but he had interacted with several boys who just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Michael preferred people like Neville, who would take the time to consider their inner selves first. "I don't always understand. Some books are easier to understand than others," Neville finally answered.

Michael nodded at that. "That's true," he agreed. "Some of the older instructions do not make as much sense. Worse are the books that combine old methods and new together because they tend to contradict."

Neville smiled at that. "I'm glad you said that," he said with a laugh. "I thought I was the only one that got confused by those books."

He shook his head. "No, those books would confuse anyone," he said with a laugh. He paused to consider what he would say next. It was a mildly taboo subject, but he thought that perhaps Neville would not judge him badly for his thoughts on it. "I think the crackdown on information by the government has not helped. It forced a lot of subjects to be rewritten and that seems to be where a lot of the confusing books come from."

Neville nodded his agreement. "It's a tricky slope isn't it?" he asked. "On one hand they want to protect people by repressing some information. Like Blood Wards. All of the Great Families have estates protected by Blood Wards and the Government cannot do a thing about it, but no one can erect new blood wards today because it would break the laws against the uses of Blood Magic."

Michael's lips curved into a small smile. "Yeah, but was it protection or control that the government had in mind?" he asked. "It seems like we have had more Dark Lords rise up since the government chose their route of protection those many centuries ago."

His cousin frowned in thought. "You might be right about that," he said softly. "I really hadn't thought about it."

Michael felt some of the tension that had been festering in him since he had been informed that he was to go to Gracewood to spend a week with his cousin and his Great-Grandmother ease. He had not spent much time around Neville when they were younger. Neville had been the ward of Augusta Longbottom nee Wood and she didn't care much for her sister-in-law Enid Corner nee Longbottom, Michael's grandmother. As a result, Michael had never been invited to spend time with Neville while he was in Augusta's care. He had spent a little time with Neville since the other boy had become the ward of House Longbottom's Regent, their mutual Great-Grandmother Callidora, but it had never been like this, where the two boys would have time to really get to know one another. So far, he liked Neville. His cousin seemed kind and he didn't mock Michael for his joy in books. Michael hadn't felt the need to run away into a story yet. He was enjoying getting to know Neville.

"What books do you like to read?" he asked Neville.

The other boy looked at him, blue-gray eyes amused. "I like books on Herbology, but I think you figured that out," he said with a chuckle. Michael chuckled as well. Yes. He had figured out that Neville had a great love for the subject of Herbology. It was the sole reason why Michael was sitting with Neville in a Greenhouse with a Herbology book on the proper care of Ferns open in his lap. "I also like mystery novels," he said.

Michael grinned. "There is something about reading about people trying to solve the mystery isn't there?" he asked.

Neville nodded eagerly. "Yeah, and it takes us on an adventure," he said with a grin.

"Do you ever think that you'll grow up and solve mysteries?" he asked.

"Me?" Neville asked surprised by the very idea. "No," he said shaking his head. "I think I'll be found here in a greenhouse when I am older."

Michael chuckled. "Well at least we'll know the first places to look for each other," he teased. "I'll look for you in the greenhouses or in the gardens and you can search for me in the libraries."

Neville laughed at that. "Right," he agreed brightly. "Well, we should get inside. It's almost tea time and Grandma hates it when I am late for tea," he said even as he gently began to remove his gardening gloves.

Michael closed the book and stood. He took a few moments to stretch as he watched Neville put away his gardening sheers and his gloves on a work table. He then carefully preceded Neville out of the greenhouse and watched as Neville closed the door and secured the latch behind him.

"It's not a lock, but it helps keep the door closed," he said simply. "This was the first greenhouse built on the property, so the structure is really old. Grandma thinks that most of the wood is petrified now."

Michael raised an eyebrow at that. "Really?" he asked fascinated. "I don't think I have ever seen wood so old that it turned to rock. That is fascinating," he said.

"It is," Neville agreed. "Let's get inside. We need to wash up for tea. If Grandma smells the dirt of the greenhouses on us, we are in trouble."

Michael sniffed as they walked up to the house. He couldn't smell dirt on himself or on Neville. They hadn't played with the plants much. Michael had settled on a bench and read the Herbology book, reading parts of it aloud to Neville to help him prune two of the Nettle Ferns. The nettles from the ferns were often used in house cleaning solutions. The Longbottom family grew them in their larger greenhouses on one of the other estates. That estate was set up to handle the demands of companies in need of their ingredients. Michael knew from his grandmother that a great deal of the Longbottom wealth came from their Greenhouses. The Longbottom family grew plants and then sold them to various companies that created potions. Harfang Longbottom was said to be the last Longbottom male who had the knack of Earth Magic, but from what Michael had seen of Neville, he suspected that his cousin was like their Great-Grandfather Harfang.

He barely paid a thought to his surroundings as he followed Neville into the house and then up the back stairs. It was a shortcut to the family wing that the servants used, but that Neville and now Michael used when they had been outdoors in the gardens or greenhouses. Neville had warned him his first day visiting that it was better to use the backstairs than to track dirt through their Grandmother's foyer. Michael agreed with that. He didn't know his Grandma Callidora all that well, but he knew that his Grandma Enid took after her and his Grandma Enid would tan his hide if he tracked dirt or mud through her foyer.

"We better get changed," Neville commented as he paused before his own door. Michael just smiled at him and gave a nod of agreement. He then entered the room that had been set up for him, a pretty suite that was just across the hall from Neville's own suite. Michael had been pleasantly surprised to have been offered his own suite at Gracewood. His Grandma Callidora had chided him for his surprise. She had kissed his brow and reminded him that he was of her blood as well as Neville and therefore he deserved his own suite of rooms in the family wing. There was another suite of rooms down the hall that was for Callidora's other Great-Grandson, Stephen Cornfoot. Stephen was also a Grandson of Enid Corner nee Longbottom. He was the son of Enid's daughter Katheryn Cornfoot nee Corner.

Michael had grown up close with Stephen and he liked his blond-haired cousin, but he was grateful that Stephen was unable to come this week to Gracewood Hall. Michael had been keyed up and nervous about spending time with Neville. He was sure that had Stephen likewise been present, then Michael and Stephen would have hung out together and excluded Neville. They would not have done it intentionally or maliciously, but it would have happened. Stephen was the sort of person that clung to the familiar when he was in a strange new environment. Michael would have let Stephen cling to him and he would have fallen into a sense of comfort at the familiarity of Stephen's presence. The end result would have meant that kind-hearted Neville would have been the odd man out. Michael was ashamed to admit that to himself, but he believed in knowing who he was inside. 'I need to work on that,' he told himself. He didn't like the idea of excluding someone else just because he was uncomfortable with a situation or with that person's presence. "No wonder I have acquaintances rather than friends," Michael muttered aloud and sighed as he slowly started to disrobe.

"Iril," he called out for his personal Elf.

"Master Michael calls for Iril?" the Elf said a moment later.

Michael turned to consider the big blue eyes of his House-Elf and he smiled. "Yes, sorry if I disturbed you. I just need a bit of help. I need to change into something suitable for tea with my Grandmother and Lord Longbottom."

Iril nodded. "Iril knows just the thing," he said and a moment later he was laying out new clothes for Michael to put on.

Michael studied the simple brown breeches, casual blue button-down shirt, and soft suede loafers for indoor wear. "This is perfect. Thank you Iril," he said warmly. Then he busied himself with swiftly changing his clothing. After he put his feet into the loafers he strode into the ensuite bathroom. He stepped up on the stool before the sink so that he could reach the sink and look into the mirror. He took up his comb from the counter and he swiftly began trying to tame his black curls. He frowned as he tried to tame the curls into some semblance of order. He had long hair just a few years ago, but his father had finally insisted that his hair should be cut shorter because too many people had thought that Michael was a girl with his long curly hair. His father had hoped that the shorter haircut would also mean an end to the curls, but apparently, the curls were stubborn and here to stay. He sighed as he turned on the faucet and then took a handful of water. He leaned forward and then poured the water over his head. Making the curls damp sometimes helped tame the frizz. He took up his comb again and then once more fought the good fight against his hair. A few moments later he put the comb down and stared at his appearance. He slowly nodded in satisfaction. His curls were now slightly tamed or at least styled in a way that would be considered acceptable instead of making him look like a mad wizard who had spent too long over a cauldron. It would have to do.

He left the room a few moments later and made his way down the hall and out of the family wing. He hesitated at the grand staircase, wondering if he should wait for Neville or if his cousin had gone one without him. He remained stuck in indecision when Neville came up behind him.

"There you are," Neville smiled. "I knocked on your door, but no one answered. I thought that you must have gone on."

Michael nodded. "I got this far and then worried that perhaps I should have waited so we could go down together," he admitted.

Neville clapped him on the back and Michael smiled at the gesture. He had noticed that Neville wasn't a very tactile person. He didn't shy away from physical contact, but he rarely initiated it himself. Michael was like that as well. He rarely initiated hugs or other gestures that would bring him into physical contact with others. Michael didn't have an aversion to physical contact, at least he didn't think he did, but he was a more solitary person.

They made their way down the stairs together and a few moments later they were entering their Great-Grandmother's favorite parlor. It was a great room for afternoon tea. The large windows let in the afternoon sunshine and he could imagine being settled happily in one of the chairs near the windows, basking in the sunshine while reading a book. He smiled when he noticed that his Great-Grandmother was sitting in a chair near the windows and reading a book. He chuckled at that.

Callidora looked up at him then and a small smirk curved her lips. At seventy-two years, Callidora Longbottom was still a great beauty. As with most witches and wizards, she looked younger than her actual age. Judging by her looks alone, Michael would guess that Callidora was in her early fifties. Silver was mixed with the raven curls that were pulled up away from her face. Her blue eyes were sharp with intelligence. Michael thought that only an idiot could look into those eyes and doubt that this woman was smart and crafty. She had a beautiful face that had weathered age well. She was still a beautiful woman. "Just what are you laughing about my little Archangel?"

Michael smiled at being called an Archangel. His Great-Grandmother had been calling him that ever since he was born because he was named after the Archangel Michael that the Christian's believed in. His father had thought the name was strong and powerful and he liked that it meant 'Who is like God'. He had thought it a strong name for his son. It was also in keeping with Corner family tradition. Michael's paternal Grandfather was Raphael Corner, named for the Archangel Raphael.

"I had just been thinking that your parlor is perfect for afternoon reading, and here you are proving the point," he answered. He watched as she laughed, and he thought it made her look beautiful. Her cheeks flushed a little and her eyes seemed to sparkle as she laughed.

"She often reads to me after tea time," Neville told him.

Michael liked the idea of someone reading to him. His father used to when he was younger, but ever since his father had taken over Whizz Hard Books the readings had stopped. His father didn't have the time to read to him anymore. Michael lamented the loss, but he knew that what his father was doing was important. Managing a company didn't sound easy. One day it would be Michael's responsibility to manage Whizz Hard Books. He was happy that he didn't have to worry about such things yet, though Business Management had been added to his list of subjects. "That sounds nice," he said wistfully.

Callidora eyed him for a moment and then she nodded decisively. "Neville and I finished a book a few days before your arrival. We'll start a new book for the three of us today."

Michael felt his heart trip at that idea but wasn't that a special activity for Neville and his Grandmother? He didn't want to intrude. "Oh, you don't have to include me," he said earnestly.

"You don't want to hear Grandmother read?" Neville asked in confusion. "She's really good Michael," he praised, and his tone was urging Michael to enjoy being included.

"Oh, it isn't that I don't want to," Michael began to explain.

"Then it is settled," Callidora said firmly.

Michael subsided, and he smiled as he sat down on the sofa beside the window. The sunshine was perfection against his skin and he sighed happily to enjoy the sunlight.

Neville chuckled even as he prepared himself a cup of tea. "You are like a cat, basking in the warm sunshine."

He laughed at that. "It feels really good though," he said. "Just like when we were in the greenhouse."

"I should have known you would go to the greenhouses today," Callidora said with a shake of her head. "You held off yesterday."

Neville blushed and fidgeted. "The nettle ferns needed pruning and Michael was a big help."

"Oh?" Callidora questioned and she looked at him. "Are you a lover of herbology as well?"

"Not exactly," Michael said even as he leaned forward to begin preparing his own tea. Once had poured the tea he added a lump of sugar and a dollop of milk. "I like it in theory, but we don't have much space for a garden," he reminded her because it had been a while since she had visited the Corner home in London where Michael lived with his Grandfather Raphael, Grandmother Enid, his father Alexander and his mother Sarah. "I have helped Grandma Enid with the plants she has in the house and the ones out on the terrace. We have managed to have climbing roses growing on the walls surrounding the back courtyard, but that is really all we have. I know far more about herbology due to books then due to anything else."

She nodded, thoughtful. "I think I should speak with your Grandmother about your tutors," she said breezily with the competent air of a woman who is used to knowing what's best and getting her way. "I have never vetted your tutors and while I am sure they are of a high quality, I want to be sure that you are getting the education you need. I hate to see wasted potential," she added.

He smiled at that. "I'm sure Grandma Enid will enjoy the conversation," he said. He didn't really think that his grandmother would enjoy her own mother so interested in his education, but Michael didn't mind that a bit. He felt warm inside knowing that his Great-Grandmother cared enough about him to want to become so involved with his well-fare.

She laughed at that. "You have Enid's number don't you?" she said with humor. She then leaned forward and ran her fingers gently through his curls. "You have your Great-Grandfather's hair," she said wistfully. "One of the things I always loved about Harfang Longbottom was his curly hair," she revealed.

Michael blinked in surprise. The Corner home didn't have pictures of Harfang Longbottom displayed where Michael might see, though now that he thought about it, he was sure that his Grandmother must have pictures of him in the photo albums she kept in her parlor. He had never thought to ask to see pictures of his Great-Grandfather before because his Grandmother got sad when anyone mentioned the man. "Do I," he paused due to the unexpected longing he felt well up inside of him at the thought that he might look like Harfang.

"Do you what dear?" Callidora asked him gently.

He could feel Neville's eyes upon him and then he felt Neville's hand upon his arm. The hand squeezed in encouragement before it fell away. Michael turned his head to gaze at Neville a moment and he slowly smiled in gratitude. He really did like Neville. There was a gentleness about him that belied an inner strength. Michael didn't know how strong inside Neville really was, but he suspected that one day he'd find out.

"Do I look like Harfang Longbottom?" he asked softly.

She stared at him for a few moments and then nodded with a soft smile curving her lips. "You have his hair and you have his eyes," she said softly. "You are the only one in the family that has his eye shape and color. I had thought that the beautiful green was lost to the line. My Albert and my Enid both received the same blue eyes as my own. Albert's son Frank had blue eyes and Neville here has blue with a touch of gray," she explained.

Michael nodded thoughtfully. "Father's eyes are blue," he said and then let himself really examine Callidora's blue eyes. "His are almost the same shade of blue as your own. Aunt Katheryn's eyes are also blue, but Stephen's eyes are green," he added thoughtfully.

Callidora hummed at that. "I had not realized that Stephen's eyes were green. It has been too long since I have seen him," she said with a sad sigh.

"Uncle Andrew and Aunt Katheryn work very hard," Michael said of his uncle and aunt who owned TerrorTours. They had added more to their tourism calendar and they were getting even more business. Michael wasn't sure who was watching Stephen while they worked. He was probably put in the back of the office to read in silence while his parents worked. It was not that dissimilar to Michael's own existence when he stayed at the office with his father.

She nodded. "Perhaps I should talk with Enid, Sarah, and Katheryn about you and Stephen coming to spend days here a Gracewood with Neville. It would do for you three to become better companions as you are the last scions of the House Longbottom."

Michael had no argument against it. He was enjoying himself so much that he hadn't wanted to hide away in a book at all. He still loved reading and he had thought of reading a few times since his arrival two days before, but he hadn't wanted to hide away in a book at all since his arrival. It was a new and remarkable feeling. He could also tell that his Great-Grandmother had already made up her mind that he and his cousin Stephen would be coming to spend time at Gracewood. He highly suspected that she would just order them to move in if she didn't respect her daughter, granddaughter-in-law, and granddaughter. If she thought he and Stephen were suffering true abuse, she was the sort of woman that would remove them from their parents and cut off their parental access to them.

"I have no objection," he said. "Neville is fantastic company and I would enjoy getting to spend more time with you too," he said, not that his approval had been necessary to her plans. Still, he thought it could only help to voice that he was willing to cooperate with her plans.

"Great!" Neville said. "I'll introduce you to Harry, Dudley, Hermione, Eleanor, Daphne, Draco, Leonis, Ernie, Blaise, Theo, and well the others later."

Michael blinked at the long list of names and slowly nodded. It seemed that his cousin had a vast list of good friends. "I'm honored that you would want to introduce me to your friends," he said softly.

Neville smiled. "They'll love you. Especially Hermione, Eleanor, and Daphne," Neville assured him. "They love books and Hermione and Eleanor are Muggle-born's. They are Heiresses of House Black and they found out a year ago that they were of the Black family and, so they are trying to learn as much as they can about our world."

"Oh," Michael said simply. He had heard of the two Muggle-born heiresses of House Black. There was great speculation in some circles about the two girls and how exactly they were related to the Black family. Some of the blood purists were insisting that a Muggle-born could not claim lineage to a noble house. His Grandmother Enid was far more informed than those rumor mongers. She had told him that Hermione was a descendant of Iola Black who had been disowned for marrying a Muggle man. Eleanor was the descendant of Phineus Black II who had been disowned for being a supporter of Muggle-born rights. He had married a Muggle-born girl. Their daughter had been a witch who had married a Squib. Their child, Reginald Branstone, was a Squib. Eleanor was Reginald's granddaughter and was a witch. "I don't envy them having to play catch up like that."

Neville nodded his head. "Better now than later though," he said. "I cannot imagine what it must be like for most Muggle-born's to only learn that they are a Witch or a Wizard at age eleven," Neville said.

Michael nodded. "I never have understood why no one from the Ministry sits down with the Muggle parents when their child performs accidental magic for the first time and then just tells them."

"It isn't usually caught," Callidora informed them. "If the magical anomaly is strong enough then it can be caught so long as someone is paying attention, but usually accidental magical outbursts in Muggle-born children is something small. Like a child becomes angry and then their magic lashes out and breaks a mirror or a glass. It seems scary to the child who doesn't understand what just happened and to any adults nearby who don't understand, but really that sort of magical outburst is too small to be considered anything other than a vague fluctuation."

Michael's brow furrowed as he thought and then he felt his Grandma Callidora's finger smoothing over his brow. "You look like Harfang when you start to think things out," she said with a smile.

He smiled back at her and then he voiced his thoughts. "So, that vague fluctuation could just be attributed as a magical object?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "Yes," she said. "Most would consider it just a magical artifact. Britain is full of them. The old warding stones still exist in most of the old cities. Many other magical protection objects exist in buildings throughout many of our oldest cities. They react every time a Witch or Wizard get too near to them."

"No wonder it would be hard to tell which is a Muggle-born child who just did accidental magic for the first time and what was a magical object if they seemed to be the same from far away," Neville said. "I guess a Witch or Wizard wouldn't know the difference unless they had been near the child when their magic sparked."

"Sparked," Michael said simply and mulled over the word. "I think that is a good word to explain what it feels like when accidental magic is done. It does feel a bit like a spark. It is instant, and it feels warm."

He watched Neville smile at the praise and he felt a sense of belonging well up inside of him. He felt a true sense of belonging here with Neville and Callidora that he had never expected to feel. He liked it. Part of him wanted this week to last forever. He loved his parents and his grandparents, but he really didn't want to go back to feeling alone in their home. It was strange to think that he could have been seated at a table with four other people and feel so alone, but Michael now knew that is exactly had how he had been feeling. He had not realized that he was lonely until he had come to Gracewood to spend time with Neville. He really didn't want to go back to feeling lonely, but now he might not have to. He'd be able to come visit Gracewood. Maybe he could come visit for a few hours every day? He liked the idea and hoped to speak with Callidora about it later. He was sure that she would convince his grandparents and his parents to let Michael visit every day.

He sat his teacup back on the saucer on the table and then let himself curl up again to enjoy the sunshine on his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment and then he heard his Great-Grandmother's voice flowing in a beautiful melody as she began to read.

"Which was first, is it darkness, is it light…" Michael immediately recognized the work as being from the Book of Taliesin written by the great Bard Taliesin. It was one of Michael's favorites and he let his mind drift, tracking her words, knowing them by heart as he slowly drifted to sleep enjoying the peace he had found with Neville's gentle and steady presence, with his Great-Grandmothers lilting voice and with the warmth of the sun shining upon him. He felt warm from the inside out and he let himself bask in the blissful feeling.


About Michael: He is Neville's second cousin. Michael, like Neville, is the Great-Grandson of Harfang and Callidora Longbottom. His Grandmother Enid is Callidora's daughter and she was Callidora's second child. Enid married Raphael Corner, who owned Whizz Hard Books and was related to the Avery family. Raphael is the current Heir to House Avery, one of the Noble Houses of Britain. Enid and Raphael have two children - Alexander Corner and Katheryn Cornfoot nee Corner. Alexander married Sarah Boot. Michael is their only child. Katheryn married Andrew Cornfoot the owner of TerrorTours. They have a single child, Stephen Cornfoot. I know that we see an actor playing Michael Corner in the Harry Potter movies, but I ask everyone to ignore that. Though the actor was great in the few scenes we saw of him, he doesn't fit in with my idea of what Michael looks like. My version of Michael has black curls (because I am a huge fan of the british tv show Sherlock and his curls are just precious and make my fingers itch to caress those curls) and I wanted him to have green eyes to go along with my ideas of the Longbottom family legacy.

I hope everyone enjoyed the introduction of Michael. He'll slowly become a great part of the narrative later on.