Chapter 13 - Defense
The following morning Neville completed his workout and was on his way back upstairs to shower when he passed the sitting room and heard Hermione speaking with Harry and Ron via floo. Not wanting to invade her privacy he hurried past the door but paused when he heard his name.
"So," Ron laughed, "Has Nev bored you senseless with his plant stuff yet?"
"Merlin!" chimed in Harry. "Please tell me he's spared you that! You've got enough problems with someone trying to kill you. Last thing you need is him talking you to death about his hobby."
Neville hung his head and was about to move on when Hermione snapped back, "I'm sure I don't have the faintest idea of what the two of you are talking about. Neville's work is fascinating and if either of you took half a moment to actually listen to him you'd be aware of that fact."
"Oh, come on, Hermione. It's plants," said Ron.
"Exactly. Plants. The very things that clean our air and provide a good portion of our foodstuffs as well as giving us tea and medicine and countless other products that make daily life possible."
"Sweet Circe!" exclaimed Harry. "She's been there too long. She's starting to sound like him."
"I know that you think you're insulting me, Harry, but I'd be proud to be compared to Neville. He's brave, clever, kind, hardworking, loyal..."
"Yeah, yeah. He's a regular bloody Hufflepuff," joked Ron.
"I don't care for the tone you use when you say that, Ronald Weasley," sniped Hermione. "Perhaps we should bring your wife into this conversation? I'm sure Susan would be most interested in your opinions regarding her House."
The ensuing silence told Neville all he needed to know about Ron's view on that idea.
"I thought so," said Hermione. "Now I want both of you to listen up. I'm tired of you treating Neville the way you did in school. That may have been considered acceptable behavior when you were fourteen but I won't stand for it now. You will treat him with the respect due a man of his status and accomplishments or you will answer to me, understood?"
"Take it easy, Hermione. You know we love the guy. He's one of our best mates. This is just how we always talk about him," said Harry.
"Well not anymore. Not around me. He deserves better. Got it?"
There was a chorus of chastened "Yes, ma'am's" before the trio said their goodbyes with Harry promising to stop by after checking in with his office to see if there were any new updates on her case. As she ended the call, Neville hurried to his room with a spring in his step which hadn't been there previously.
xxx
"I didn't realize we were having a formal breakfast." Hermione looked up from her coffee in surprise as Neville entered the kitchen a wearing dress robes. "I suddenly feel rather out of place. What's the occasion?"
"Today is Gran's birthday. Out of respect I try to spruce up whenever I visit her grave. She liked it when I 'made an effort'. Her words," he added with a shrug.
"You look very smart. I'm sure she appreciates the gesture. Would it be okay if I came along or is this a private ritual?"
"No. I'd love the company. If you don't mind, that is."
"I don't mind at all. Give me a moment to change into something a bit more respectable. Don't want to make a bad impression."
Neville smiled when he realized she wasn't joking - she actually wanted to show respect to his Grandmother by dressing up.
"I don't think you could ever make a bad impression, Miss Granger, but if it will make you feel better then take all the time you need. Nice thing about visiting the dearly departed. They're always waiting for you when you get there."
Hermione hurried to her room and selected one of her better work ensembles and soon they were making their way across the property to the family cemetery. Neville opened the heavy wrought iron gate before heading towards the most recent headstone erected near the stacked stone wall.
Hermione stood at a polite distance as he laid a bouquet of delphiniums next to a plaque reading Augusta Fawley Longbottom, 1900 to 1999.
"You cared for her during her illness, didn't you?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah. She lasted longer than the healers thought she would. Said she wasn't going anywhere until she was damn good and ready."
"I can almost hear her saying that. She was quite a strong willed woman."
"That she was. She came to the school and fought in the final battle, you know. Took out a couple death eaters all on her own. Not too shabby for a woman of her age," Neville said with more than a touch of pride.
"I know. I read the article Luna's father wrote after her passing. She was a remarkable witch by anyone's standards."
After respectful pause Hermione stepped forward and asked, "What was her favorite color?"
Neville thought for a moment. "Blue, I suppose."
She produced her wand and conjured a small wreath of forget-me-nots. "There. Not as posh an offering as she might like but..."
"They're lovely. Thank you," said Neville, admiring her handiwork. "She thought a lot of you."
Hermione looked up in confusion. "What do you mean? I only met Augusta a handful of times and those were brief at best."
"She knew enough. Professor McGonagall often mentioned how much you helped me with my studies and she saw for herself the impact you had on me - academically and socially. Said any girl that could bring that out of me must be the brightest witch of her age."
Hermione pursed her lips and considered her next words with care. "Neville, while I respect your Grandmother a great deal I must confess that I still take a tremendous exception with how your family treated you after your parents were no longer able to care for you."
"I know. Near the end Gran admitted that she'd made mistakes. Been too harsh. I think she was afraid I'd end up like my parents. She did her best under the circumstances."
"I suppose. But it wasn't just her." Hermione indicated a headstone two places over. "Is he the one?"
"The one what?"
"You know. The one you told me about that night in the clock tower. The one that keep trying to force magic out of you when you were a little boy. The one that pushed you off Blackpool pier and almost allowed you to drown. The one that hung you out of an upstairs window by your ankles then 'accidentally' let go when offered a meringue."
"Uncle Algie? Yeah. That's him. In his defense I did bounce when he dropped me. Everyone was elated to have confirmation I wasn't a squib. Gran was so happy that she cried."
Hermione scowled at the grave as Neville added, "He wasn't all bad. He sent me rare plants when I got older and he's the one who gave me Trevor."
"I don't care if he gave you a whole bloody swamp containing all Trevor's friends and relations, it doesn't excuse what he did to you," she replied tersely. "Is there a portrait of him in the house?"
"No. Got rid of them all. Why?"
She drew herself up to her full height. "Because I would very much like to have a word with him."
"You know what? I'd like to have seen that myself. Poor bastard wouldn't have stood a chance."
She dipped her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Nev. This was neither the time nor the place for that sort of outburst. Please forgive me."
"Nothing to forgive. Thank you for always believing in me," Neville said, draping his arm around her shoulders.
She leaned her face against his chest. "No thanks necessary. There was always a lot to believe in."
Neville shifted his feet. "Hermione? I – I need to confess something. This morning I was walking past the sitting room and I overheard part of your conversation with Ron and Harry."
"Did you?"
He nodded but before he could launch into his carefully planned apology over invading her privacy he was taken aback when she took his hand and intertwined their fingers.
"Good," she said. "Saves me repeating it to you myself."
Not sure of how to respond to that, Neville simply squeezed her fingers and smiled.
They finished paying their respects and headed back to the house but stopped short when they heard a heated argument nearby. Their unease quickly turned to apprehension when sounds of a fierce scuffle reached them. Without hesitation Neville grabbed Hermione and apparated her inside. The pair drew their wands and ran to the entrance just in time to see Harry dragging a bound and gagged Draco Malfoy towards the front door.
Neville lifted the wards to allow them to enter the house where Harry threw his captive to the floor.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
"Came by to give you an update and found him outside the fence. Had a map of the area and one of your hairbrushes. Must've broken into your flat to get it. Bastard was using your hair to determine your whereabouts by scrying."
"Don't be ridiculous. Draco didn't steal anything. I gave him that brush and I know why he was trying to find me."
"What?! Why?" shouted Harry.
"I-I can't tell you that. However, I can tell you that there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for his presence here."
"Sorry, Hermione. Going to need more than that to convince me," Harry countered.
"Very well. If you insist." With a flick of her wand she removed the gag from Draco's mouth. "Will you release me from the vow so I can tell him?"
Draco's eyes flicked between his captors but he remained silent.
"Oh, come on, Draco! I swear you can trust them and Neville's incredibly clever when it comes to herbology. I really think he can help. Please."
Draco clambered to his feet, hands still bound behind his back. "I can't. Not trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Besides, Potter has my wand."
"Release him and give him his wand," Hermione demanded.
Harry made the mistake of hesitating.
"Harry James Potter, I mean this instant!" She stamped her foot for emphasis.
Draco smirked at the speed Potter undid the binding spell and handed over his wand. Hermione moved towards him but Harry and Neville blocked her way.
As she spluttered in protest in protest Draco snapped at her. "For Merlin's sake, Granger! Don't be stupid. They're trying to protect you from a perceived threat and rightfully so under the current circumstances. Give them a little credit, why don't you."
He extended his arm between the two men standing guard over her. They grasped each other's wrists as he recited the incantation, freeing her from the oath they had made.
She exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Do you want to tell them or shall I?"
He gave a dismissive wave. "You'll just keep jumping in to correct me so you may as well tell it."
"Then let's move into the sitting room, shall we? This might take a while. May as well be comfortable." Hermione motioned for them to follow after her. Harry and Neville took seats by the fire while Draco leaned against the wall and stared out a window.
"Right," started Hermione. "As the two of you may already know, Astoria hasn't been well the last couple of years. What you don't know is that she's suffering from a blood malediction."
"Blood mal-a-what?" asked Harry.
"A blood curse," answered Neville. "Used to happen a lot in the old days. Someone would get angry at a family and place a 'time bomb' of sorts in their family tree. Nasty bit of dark magic. Sometimes you wouldn't even know the curse had been cast until several generations later when some random set of conditions had been fulfilled."
"What kind of conditions?"
Neville shrugged. "Balmy stuff. First daughter born to a fifth son. A child born under a blood moon. A fair haired boy born to dark haired parents. The usual arbitrary rubbish cooked up by overly dramatic psychopaths."
Harry nodded in understanding. "We've certainly seen our fair share of those. So what does a blood curse do?"
"That's what makes them so damned awful," said Neville. "You don't know when, where or how the curse will manifest itself but the end result is always the same - death. Sadly, more often than not the process is slow and painful and the person that ends up bearing the burden never learns why the curse was inflicted in the first place."
Hermione sighed in agreement. "Nev's right. It's the 'sins of the fathers' carried out to ridiculous extremes. The worst part is that so far no one's ever come up with an effective treatment, much less a cure, for a blood curse."
"So that's the side project you've been working on?" asked Neville.
"Yes." She gave Draco a pitying look. "Astoria's didn't manifest until Scorpius was born then it began slowly draining her life force. Draco spent months digging through every scrap of information he could find on the subject. When he was unable to locate a solution he sought me out, wondering if I'd come across anything even remotely related in my research on lycanthropy. I pulled together everything I could find, including information on Muggle blood cancer treatments. That's when I came up with the idea."
"What idea?" asked Harry.
"A variation on the concept of Muggle blood transfusions. Since Astoria's illness was both magical and blood-born it occurred to me that polyjuice might be a potential treatment. Something to possibly weaken the curse. Slow it down until we can find a more permanent solution."
Harry and Neville sat dumbfounded as the full implications of Hermione's words began to sink in.
"Wait...so you're telling me..." started Neville.
Hermione nodded. "I thought by allowing Astoria to change herself into someone without a malediction on a regular basis, it might hinder the progression of the curse long enough to buy us the time we needed. In order to make the treatments easier for her to tolerate we decided to use witches that had also been marked by dark magic."
She summoned the hairbrush which had been dropped in the entrance hall. "Of course, I insisted on voluntary donations. Transformation by polyjuice is a very personal thing. That meant, however, a very limited pool of donors so I started giving them some of my hair and Luna, bless her, donated two brushes before leaving with Rolf without even asking who needed it or why. According to Draco both potions seem to help but..."
At this point Draco finally spoke. "But the positive effects on Tori are much stronger and last significantly longer after she's taken Granger's."
Hermione held up the brush, which the men noticed for the first time was almost picked clean. "So that's why he was trying to find me. He was running out of hair and Astoria's due for another treatment soon. I wanted to send another brush to him but since I can't use an owl from here without fear of it being tracked that meant I didn't have a safe way to do so while still maintaining my vow of secrecy. Sorry."
Harry gave Draco a skeptical look. "Hold on. Wouldn't it be weird for you or Scorpius to see Astoria as Luna or Hermione?"
"Of course it would," Draco snapped. "That's why we don't do it. To avoid any confusion, I take Scorp outside to play while Tori takes the treatments. It's a relatively short period of time and I'm close by in case there's a problem. She sends word when she's…herself again."
Neville leaned forward. "You actually expect me to believe that you allow your wife to transfigure into a Muggle born?"
"Of course," Draco said sharply. "I'd do anything to save the woman I love. Wouldn't you?"
He looked Neville in the eye and something resembling an understanding passed between them.
Neville considered him carefully before standing and summoning an antique silver hairbrush from another room. He turned it over in his hands a couple of times before offering it to Draco.
"Here."
Draco regarded the object as if it were an explosive whose fuse was about to ignite. "What's that?"
"Before Gran got sick she used to visit my parents regularly in hospital. Sometimes she'd brush Mum's hair. Pure blood. Female. Touched by dark magic. Maybe it will help."
Draco hesitated. "Are - Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Take it."
Draco reached for the brush and swallowed hard. "Thank you...Neville."
"You're welcome...Draco."
There was an awkward silence before Draco shuddered. "Okay. That was uncomfortable. Let's never do that again."
Neville grimaced and nodded. "Agreed."
"I'll vote for that," chimed Harry.
Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, "Boys..."
"Right," said Draco, carefully placing the brush in his pocket. "Now that I'm no longer Undesirable Number One, I do have some news. I figured out how to break the last of the enchantments on the parchment you received. It's steeping in a modified revelare potion and by late tomorrow I should have the final chemical breakdown. As soon as that happens I'll give it to Potter to compare against the samples he's taken from your main suspects. That should at least narrow down your inquiry. Give you a better idea of who you're dealing with."
"Which actually leads into why I was coming by in the first place," said Harry. "We can cross two names off our list. We found pensieve testimony from some of the centaurs in the post war archives that proves definitively that Umbridge died in the forest. We've also tracked down Milicent Bulstrode. She now lives with an aunt near Durmstrang. Breeds high end, pure blood kneazles for the Eastern European wizarding elite. Doesn't have any real ties to Britain anymore. Voluntarily submitted to questioning by local authorities under veritaserum and passed with flying colors."
"Does that mean anything?" asked Neville. "Some people can fake answers under the serum, can't they?"
"Milicent was a lot of things but proficient in occlumency was never one of them," said Draco. "Couldn't control her temper. Irritated Snape to no end. If she passed under veritaserum then it was legit."
"Great," sighed Hermione. "That means we've removed two seats from the quidditch stadium. Still leaves a pretty broad field of people that won't cry at my funeral."
Neville laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's something, at least. Let's wait and see what Malfoy finds out. That'll give us more to work with."
The group talked a while longer but made no more significant headway in eliminating suspects. Hermione provided Draco with another hair brush and they swore him to secrecy as to Hermione's whereabouts before he and Harry left with promises to return once they had results of the testing.
Later Hermione and Neville enjoyed a quiet meal then took up their now familiar spots in front of the fire.
"It was good of you to give that brush to Draco," she said. "I know that couldn't have been an easy thing given your past history with him."
"Yeah, well...I'm still not sure about the guy but I trust your judgment. I figured I shouldn't hold Astoria's taste in men against her and Scorpius didn't get to choose his Dad."
His eyes went to the photo of his parents on the mantle. "Besides, Mum would give up almost anything so another woman could have a chance for more time with her son."
Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. "You are an amazing man, Neville Longbottom."
He rested his chin on her head. "All I did was give away a used hairbrush, Hermione."
She snuggled against him, pulling her knees up so they were almost in his lap. "Exactly."
Neville slipped his arm around her, enjoying the closeness. He wasn't sure why this particular action deserved so much praise but he wasn't about to argue with the results.