The halls of Hogwarts were always too quiet once the students had gone home for the summer break, Neville found. It was eerie—the place so vibrant and full of activity during his formative years felt so cold and even more expansive without classes to rush to or studying to be done. But he supposed that it was something he would come to get used to more as the years ticked by. It was certainly more familiar now than it was his first year as Herbology professor.

However, today was a bit of a special day and a little bit of life was brought back, at least in the Great Hall. They were throwing a retirement party for Madam Pomfrey, who had finally decided that this would be her final year. It was bittersweet, but most of all, Neville was happy to see the long-time matron of Hogwarts smile more than he had ever seen. She was, of course, always less stern around professors than students, but today, she looked like a whole new witch.

There was something bothering Neville though.

Poppy's replacement was there to celebrate with them after apparently ending her final shift at St. Mungo's. She was a young Healer, still in the lime robes Neville was so familiar with, and he could just barely remember her face. They hadn't spoken to each other just yet, the party only now getting under way, so he hadn't even had the chance to ask her name. Was she in his year? He definitely didn't remember her being in Gryffindor, but he still couldn't place her.

"Miss Cunningham was a year below you, in Hufflepuff. A witch with a knack for healing spells from the very beginning."

Neville jumped at Minerva's voice. He didn't even hear her approach, and he wondered for a second how she seemed to read his mind. Then he realized that he had been staring at the healer for ages now, his face contorted as he tried to remember her. He had a sneaking suspicion that Minerva was extremely used to that expression.

Still, the new information didn't place her.

"What's her first name? I know I know her, but I can't remember..."

"Kyle. You probably remember her most from the wanted posters. She was very much wanted by the snatchers. Gave them a lot of trouble before she got caught herself."

That triggered the memories for him. Kyle Cunningham, captured just days before the battle. Just one in a long list of people he didn't think would make it out alive. While he was unsure what happened after Muggleborns and other wanted people were captured, he was sure it wasn't good. He remembered, also, that she was always hanging around the Black Lake during her years at school. In fact, he had asked her once if she had made friends with the squid, but her response was lost to time.

He turned to ask Minerva another question but only caught the tail end of her robes fluttering by as she went to join the party. Neville assumed it was for the best and made toward the table to grab a bite to eat—he could ask Kyle herself, certain he'd see her around.

However, he wouldn't see her around quite as soon as he thought. After the party, he found himself a little too drunk to want to do much talking and retired to his bed to get plenty of rest before he had to start planning for next year. Then, he was kept busy with the general cleaning up of the greenhouses in preparation for the new school year.

By the point in which he had plenty of free time, he had forgotten all about what he wanted to ask his new co-worker, instead spending ample time visiting friends and family during the day and his evenings behind books and scrolls.

The summer flew by, and he was a little shaken when he woke one morning and realized that school would begin in a few days. He had paced himself rather well this year, and the only thing he had left to prepare was his nerves. Something about the first days was tough for him, but he comforted himself in the knowledge that all would smooth out shortly.

And so it came to be that Neville, giving his eyes a break from the tome he was reading ("It's very interesting, all about the history of magical Mongolian agriculture. My favorite bit..."), decided to do some light care for the plants he kept in his office and surrounding his desk. He had to admit, it did look a little like a jungle in there, but that was kind of the point.

Far in the back of his office where students shouldn't be roaming about, he kept the plants that needed a close watch on as he nursed them back to health. There, he was tending to a lovely little herb that was struggling to take root—a trait common to this stubborn species. He was bent over it, pruning off the dying leaves and re-covering it's upward-growing roots. He stood up and leaned back, stretching out his arms to get rid of the stiffness in his upper body.

"Ow! Fuck!" he shouted, pulling his arm in close to his body. Blood flowed freely from the little puncture marks on his forearm, and he glanced back to the hissing Cobralily that had finally, after all these years, managed to bite him.

Quickly, he came around to his desk, searching in all the drawers and then over to the cabinets across the room. He continued to curse as he failed to find the vial he needed, but he did manage to find a clean bandage to hold against the bite to help with the blood dripping all over his floor. After a few moments, he gave up on finding a potion of his own and decided to head to the hospital wing, hoping Miss Cunningham would have something on hand. If not... well, best not to think about it.

Crossing the grounds started off easy but by the time he reached the castle doors, he was beginning to feel feverish and slow. His body felt heavy and he could feel the spreading venom in his veins.

It felt like an eternity before he arrived at the hospital wing, but he still felt well enough to walk through. Standing over a bubbling cauldron, hand on her hip, was Kyle. She had traded in her lime green robes for a long white dress, high-necked like Madame Pomfrey but significantly more modern. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled up high, and her apron was dirty with what was probably the ingredients for the potion she was brewing. She didn't even take notice of Neville until he was nearly to her.

"Oh, hello Profe- Oh, you do not look well. What's going on?"

Her initial smile faded into a look of concern as she came around from her cauldron and instructed him to sit on the cot nearest to him. He took a seat and uncovered his arm.

"I wasn't paying attention to where I was, got bit by a Cobralily. I thought I had a potion on hand, but I guess I forgot it," he said, very to the point as Kyle took his arm and turned it to get a better look.

He realised at this point that she was almost comically short, but the amusement was cut short when she touched a very sore part of his arm near the bite and he made a strangled noise.

"Sorry, just trying to get a good look."

She pulled her wand out from the tie on her apron and gave it a wave without looking away from his arm. The doors to the huge curio cabinet filled with potions and jars swung open, and a potion jetted out towards her. She let go of his arm to catch it, and then handed it to him.

"Drink this. Be prepared, it tastes like hell."

While he unstoppered the vial, she gave another wave of her wand, and a small jar zipped to her hand. The smell of the potion hit him first—awful, pungent, kind of rotten smelling. But he didn't really have a choice in the matter, so he tossed it back and swallowed the viscous drug, fighting off the urge to gag.

Kyle set the jar on the little side table and took his arm carefully again. While he was still trying to get past the disgusting flavor in his mouth, she very delicately spread a salve on the bite, and he immediately felt it begin to cool the burning wound as it healed.

"Just sit here for a bit. You should be fine, but some people get very dizzy from the antivenom." She gave him a pat on his shoulder, and he nodded, swinging his legs up on the cot and resting his back against the pillow and wall behind him. She returned to her cauldron, touching the bubbling surface with her wand until a puff of purple smoke rose out.

"What are you brewing? I don't know many potions that color."

To be fair, Neville still wasn't well versed in potions, so he couldn't actually attest to how many purple potions there were. His greatest fear was the potions master, after all.

Kyle huffed.

"Something Madam Pomfrey should have kept on hand but didn't. We have all these very curious students coming into adulthood, and she would not prepare anything to soothe the minds of the more precocious young women attending here."

He furrowed his brow as he thought it over. "Precocious young... Oh. Oh. Does that kind of thing happen at Hogwarts?"

"Wizards are certainly more sexually conservative than Muggles, but to be very, very clear—that kind of thing happens all the time."

She brought out a box full of tiny, empty vials and began to fill them one-by-one while the cauldron still bubbled.

"Perhaps it's because I was raised by a very—shall we say liberated?—Muggle mother, but I don't see a point in not supplying girls with the tools they need to take charge of their own sexuality. I assure you that you haven't seen what happens when a student finds herself pregnant. It's all very hush-hush. The student is instructed not to tell anyone. It's a source of shame and absolutely unnecessary. Oh, sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, it's fine. Bit of a shock, I guess. I thought things were so wholesome here." He couldn't help but laugh a bit at it, partially at his own naivety. It had never even crossed his mind that students were shacking up as often as Kyle was insinuating. Obviously, there were rumors, but no one had ever seriously mentioned it to him. "Why didn't Poppy keep any?"

"Moral values, I would guess. It's not a difficult or costly potion to brew, and you only need a tiny bit to be effective." She was still slowly filling each tiny bottle. About twenty of them now sat on the table to her side. Kyle sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Honestly, Poppy was an amazing healer, but she left me with nothing. I've been brewing and organizing and collecting for the whole summer trying to get this place as prepared as possible for anything that might happen. Maybe I'm overpreparing, even, but I'd rather have too much than not enough."

Neville nodded and looked at his arm. The bite was no more than faint little marks now, barely distinguishable from freckles. He was starting to feel better, too. He wasn't as feverish, and he could feel the greasy feeling of the venom dissolving away.

Neville watched as she finished filling all of the vials, then waved them up to the top shelf of that overstuffed curio cabinet. When they were all safe and sound on the shelf, she started to clean out the cauldron and put it away.

Soon after, Kyle returned to his side. She put one hand on his forehead and took a look at his arm again.

"Feel dizzy?"

"Not at all."

"Perfect. I'd say you're all good to go." She smiled brightly and gave him a pat on the knee. "But be very careful around that damned cobralily. It takes two days to brew that antivenom, and I think that was the only vial I have."

Neville hopped off the cot, stretching out his arm again to make sure there was no lingering pain.

"I'm pretty good about not being bit, I was just not paying attention today. I can bring you the ingredients for more, though. Just in case."

"Sounds like a plan to me," she said with a nod. "Whatever you have in store for it, I would appreciate it. I'm sure Slughorn will have anything you don't have. Surely he can loan me a bit, too. But for right now, I am so done with brewing. I'm going to take the next couple days to rest. Doing potions all day every day is rough on the back and shoulders."

She wrapped her arms around herself to stretch, and the little gap the motion created in the neckline of her dress revealed just the top of a deep purple scar. He tried not to look.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I thought I was going to have to go to St. Mungo's, and I'm just not into that idea."

"Luckily, I should be able to handle most things that happen on these grounds. Unless there are more cursed necklaces, feel free to drop by for anything."

She nodded, and Neville said his goodbye before strolling out back to the grounds, still cradling and looking at his arm.

He cursed himself once he got back to his office. He had forgotten to ask his question that he had thought about months ago.