AN: A Christmas Surprise! I had not been on FF for sometime, and forgot I had started this story. I looked through my notes and realized I had plotted a good portion of the first four books in this AU tale, and didn't want to abandon it just yet. So to any readers, old or new, I am sorry I haven't revisited Neville/Niels in some time. But here's a brand new chapter and I hope to have the following two chapters up in short order!
I do not own Harry Potter, story not for commercial use. Parts come from "Halloween" of PS. Thanks again to everyone reading and reviewing!
As Halloween approached, the peace between Harry and Draco miraculously continued. It was fortunate to no longer worry about grudges and animosity, especially as the workload increased dramatically after their first weeks of learning the foundations of spell casting and magical theory.
Neville found himself in the library frequently researching an essay for Professor Snape, or practicing charms with the orbis exercito alongside Ariadne and Draco. The Malfoy heir had even less time to do the same work, as the first Quidditch match of the season would be Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and Marcus Flint was obsessed with training and getting Draco "battle ready" as he called it.
"You should see him," Draco told Neville in low tones in the library. "It's like he's possessed by a banshee, the yelling never stops. Montague nearly fell off his broom after the laps we were doing in the rain. I'd tell you to come to a practice and see for yourself, but Flint would probably skin you alive for a Gryffindor spy."
By Halloween, all the first year students were looking forward to a bit of a break with the annual feast. All the first year students except Neville.
Halloween had more or less been ignored in the Lindhal/Rasmussen family. For Norwegian magical beings, the vetrnaetr was an important three day holiday that emerged from the old Norse end of harvest festival It was a time of thanks and remembrance. The Norwegian government and dokalffar leadership exchanged traditional gifts of friendship and reaffirmed their commitment to Norway on publicly broadcast Wizarding Wireless radio programs. Everyday witches and wizards also used the time to renew bonds with neighbors and light candles at the graves of ancestors.
Grandmother Longbottom typically shut herself away for the entire holiday period. Clare and the children meanwhile would, on the third day of the festival, hire a boat on the Trondheimsfjorden. Just before the early sunset, the children would launch small toy boats with burning candles on the waterways in honor of Uncle Johannes and Neville's parents. Norwegian wizards still believed, like their forebears, that the dead and the living worlds were at the thinnest point of separation on the third of vetrnaetr, and while other families might leave candles at cemeteries, Neville and his cousins never had graves to visit. Niels' parents had been buried in England, and though none of the children knew what had happened exactly to Johannes, Clare said there was no grave to go to.
Neville would have preferred to be home and remember his parents rather than feasting in his native land on the day they were murdered. He was rather resignedly planning to attend the feast, when he received a surprise package delivery the morning before Halloween.
He'd been finishing his orange juice when the daily mail swooped in above the Great Hall. To his great surprise, a small parliament of owls dropped a medium sized square package at his plate. He paused, then gave a bit of toast to an owl, unattaching the flapping letter from its talon. The owls flew off. Neville broke open the letter first: it was in English, but in Oscar's handwriting.
Dear Neville (funny),
Hi! I do hope all is well at Hogwarts and that you are having fun.
Sorry I have not been able to write as much as I had planned. This year is very difficult so far. Still fun though.
I wanted to send you some small things for Halloween. My teacher Transfigured them with a timer: they look like very standard books on Herbology now, but you can put them to use on your Halloween at sunset.
Write back soon. I will see you at Longbottom Manor for the holiday celebration.
There was no signature, but instead an artistic flourish that Neville had come to recognize in the corners of Oscar's portraits and landscapes he created. The letter was devoid of any mention of Norway or Valhalla or anything, and Niels' was grateful. They would attempt to hide his country of refuge as long as possible to avoid prying and increased scrutiny on the family.
At least hinting as to the true purpose of the Herbology textbooks, Neville approached Professor McGonogall after Transfiuration that day. He hung back while his classmates streamed out of the room, fiddling anxiously with his tie.
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"
The professor arched an eyebrow at her student and he gulped.
"Uh, Professor? I, well, I'd rather not attend the Halloween feast tomorrow and I was wondering if I could, er, just be on the grounds by the lake instead."
The professor looked at Neville closely.
"The Halloween Feast is one of the most anticipated events at Hogwarts for most first year students. Though I imagine, Mr. Longbottom, that you anticipate the holiday's coming and going for very different reasons than your peers."
Neville wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer her or not. It didn't seem like a question. Then McGonagll's face softened a bit, and her tone was much kinder.
"It's understandable that you'd prefer not to partake in the festivities. Your parents were courageous, loving people, and I had the good fortune to teach both of them."
"Thank you, Professor," Neville said quietly after a bit of a pause. The Transfiguration teacher wrote a brief note of permission for the boy, who thanked her once again and exited the classroom.
When Neville mentioned his plans to Ariadne and Draco, he did not expect such an animated, indignant response from Ariadne. She rounded on him after he showed her McGonagall's note.
"You're going to miss feasting to mourn your parents? Alone?"
Neville nodded slowly, not understanding where her wrath was coming from. Ariadne frowned at his nod, then snapped her attention to her cousin.
"And you? You think this is a good idea?"
"Well, I mean, McGonagall gave him permission and this is his tradition..." Malfoy trailed off at her increasingly narrowed eyes.
"Come on. We're all going to see Professor Snape."
"Snape!" The two boys exclaimed in unison.
Black hair swirling, Ariadne eyed them coldly.
"You have a better idea?"
"Look, I know he's Draco's godfather and all and got him on the House Quidditch team, but-"
"He's still the scariest teacher at Hogwarts." Draco finished Neville's sentence for him, and Longbottom nodded at the blonde in agreement.
"He's still our Head of House, and accordingly, is the only person who can excuse us from the feast."
Ariadne's logic was hard to refute. Neville swallowed nervously: his last interaction with Snape had been unmistakably odd and he wasn't eager to seek the professor out without being commanded or required. But he supposed Ariadne was in fact, requiring them, and he knew well enough that she refused to let things go once her mind was made up. He looked at Draco, who shrugged.
"Let's go," she said, turning and marching off towards the dungeons. The two boys followed her down the stairs and corridor, quiet and nervous, until they arrived at the heavy wooden door behind which was the Potions Master.
Ariadne rapped smartly on the door, then quickly pushed Draco to the front.
"What are you doing?"
"It'll be better coming from you, trust me," she muttered furtively as the door opened.
Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, had been teaching for a decade at Hogwarts with a distinct lack of good fortune. Instructing the most subtle of the wizarding disciplines to unworthy, bluntly minded students was less than satisfying. Each year, he thought the entering classes successively stupider and more trying than the next. He had believed previously that the apex had been reached when the twin Weasley demons entered Hogwarts hallowed grounds, but he'd not expected the pain and anger that resurfaced when the faces of former enemies became omnipresent in his classes and otherwise.
Ariadne Black and Harry Potter, the spawn of the sources of so much turmoil in his life, were nearly too much for the Professor to handle. Harry Potter, the brash, strutting ponce who was a perfect clone of his self-obsessed father (though Snape did his best to forget who supplied Potter with his bottle-green eyes.) Their mutual hatred was clear to most of Hogwarts. The enmity was decidedly one sided, of course, as Snape with the power and authority of his position could set any number of detentions and embarrassing tasks for Potter based on the smallest mistake or a mere whiff of impertinence. Potter and his cronies occasionally fought back: he had seen "Snivellus" defacing a wall in a water closet in the dungeons, no one in sight to hold culpable but Snape knew. The three that followed Potter were rapidly turning into a junior division of the Marauders, which stirred increased feelings of rage deep within Severus. Seamus, a more bold, bawdy version of Peter Pertigrew; Dean Thomas, a studious boy just slightly aloof, probably due to his purely Muggle background, that could become another Lupin with a push; and of course Weasley, the closest of the circle to Potter, the Sirius to James. He'd hated the mutt nearly as much as he'd hated Potter at school, and the four Gryffindors were increasingly bearing the brunt of that hatred.
Unlike the open enmity with Potter,Snape harbored a more uncertain hatred for the spawn of Sirius Black. He couldn't even take too much pleasure in Miss Black's somewhat surprising sorting into Slytherin. There were moments of schadenfreude to be sure, thinking of the mutt's shame and despair for his Snake daughter, but he still had to deal with and teach the young Black heir, and it wasn't the easiest of tasks. She was smart and somewhat sly, diligent with her studies. Her potions work was nothing prodigious, but he reluctantly admitted that she was more adequate than most of the incompetent fools in the first year. The black hair and gray eyes of her sire always made his skin crawl with revulsion, but for the sake of house unity he avoided open hatred. It was a complicated juggling of emotions and ideas, not least because of her even more surprising and continued friendship with an odd pair of friends themselves: Draco Malfoy, his godson, and Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived.
So when the sharp rapping came upon the door along with a quick shuffling of feet, Snape was not even surprised to see the faces of those three unlikely friends before him.
"Miss Black," he said, lip curling automatically into a sneer. "Mr Longbottom, Mr Malfoy." He looked at the three: Ariadne had her eyes downcast and was silent, but he noted her grimace and hard, glinting eyes. Draco was unbecomingly sucking in his breath as though to speak to Snape, then holding his breath slightly and not letting anything out. Snape inwardly cringed. I must stamp that out of him. Lucius would strangle himself in his cell to see his son so cowed.
Neville looked nervous, as he often did: Snape didn't make much of the boy that vanquished the Dark Lord. He was a fair student so far, didn't distinguish himself in any subject except Herbology, and had yet to do or say or accomplish anything of note outside of having an odd assortment of friends. More than just the Gryffindor first years found it disconcerting to see the savior of the wizarding world so close with the scion of House Malfoy. Even Ariadne was looked at with some skepticism: Slythetin ties trumped being the child of war hero Sirius Black, at least at Hogwarts.
"Professor Snape," and his attention snapped to Ariadne. It seemed she had tired of waiting for Draco to lead. "We'd like to ask your permission to be excused from the Halloween feast today."
He sneered at her. "Too good to dine with all and sundry, Black? Your father felt very similarly about himself and his place in the school."
"No sir, I am not above anyone or anything," the girl responded. She kept her eyes downcast but was gritting her teeth. "It's about Neville, sir."
"So, our celebrity student is above mixing with the hoi polloi? What authority has excused you from the feast, Mr Lingbottom? Or were you too planning to appeal to me as well?"
"N-no sir," Nevilke stammered, hastily pulling from his robe pocket a slightly crumpled note. "Professor McGonagall excused me."
Snape took the note from the ashen-faced boy. He read it swiftly.
"So she did, Mr Longbottom. I see no reason why your reluctance to dine with the students should impact my Slytherins, nor even why she would have excused you at all."
"Professor Snape? It's because of his parents, sir." Draco finally broke in softly, and raised his eyes to meet his godfather's. Snspe said nothing.
Sensing an opening, Ariadne hurriedly continued.
"Neville doesn't celebrate Halloween as much as commemorate his parents' bravery and mourn their loss. It would be cruel to send him to the feast, surrounded by happy students. And as his friends, it would be cruel to let him grieve alone."
"Last I checked, loyalty was a Gryffindor trait, Miss Black."
"But self-preservation is a Slytherin trait, sir," came Draco's voice.
"Being close to Neville is a good thing for the Gruffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. And everyone who writes home cant help but talk about it. It puts me and my mother on the side of the Light, and it means the Malfoy name is slightly less monstrous than maybe it was before."
Draco grew quiet here, and Snape looked at his godson impassively, but with mild concern underneath. He knew Draco would have a difficult time as the son of a known and feared imprisoned Death Eater, but perhaps the first few weeks had been harder on the boy than he'd previously thought.
"Ambition is too," Ariadne added, and Snape turned his attention on her, frowning. "Power, prestige... Neville made the Daily Prophet front page shaking hands with the Prime Minister before he even got on the train to Hogwarts. There's tremendous influence and clout that comes with an association with Longbottom, at school and in the wider community."
As Ariadne spoke, looking straight at him, Snape brushed her mind with Legilimency. She was being mostly truthful, though she did like Neville for separate personal reasons as well. But her approach was to appeal to Snape from a Slytherin perspective, believing that to be the most effective way to get what they wanted. Turning his gaze on his godson, he found the same: a truthful declaration, strong personal affection for the boy, with some twists and slight oversell to appeal to Slytherin logic. It was a cunning gambit, he noted, and that too was Slytherin. Brushing Longbottoms mind he sensed confusion, betrayal, sadness... Ah, so they hasn't let Longbottom in on their little plot and he takes their words at face value, Snape mused. Interesting.
"Very well." And Snape promptly shut the door in their faces.
The Potions master had been called sadistic before: he now imagined the sniping ensuing between the two Slytherins, and the quiet fury building in the Longbottom boy. He signed two identical pieces of parchment, gave another thirty seconds pause, and flung open the door.
"It was your bloody plan!"
"And if you'd opened your mouth when I told you, Malfoy, maybe it would have worked!"
The cousins were at each others throats, and Neville was casting scowls at both of them, but he saw Snape first.
"Hello, Professor." And the squabbling Slytherins stopped immediately and turned to regard their Head of House.
"Your permission forms," Snape said blandly, holding them both out to Malfoy. "Now get out of my sight before I take points from Slytherin for unbecoming conduct in the halls." The three gave quiet thanks and hurried away. Snape closed his door and shook his head slightly: if they managed to maintain a friendship, if they could succeed where he and Lily could not... His thoughts betrayed him. Clearing his mind with Occlumency and affecting his normal sneer, Snape prepared himself for the annual racket of the Halloween feast. He resolved not to devote anymore time today the three unlikely friends.
The Slytherin cousins exchanged tremendous sighs of relief as they sped away from Snape's office.
"You'll go with Neville to the lake?" Ariadne looked to take charge and get things moving forward. Draco nodded in reply.
"Right, so I'll nick us some food. Neville, do you need anything specific? Neville?"
Draco and Ariadne turned round: the Gryffindor had fallen behind both of them, shuffling down the corridor slowly. The betrayal and shock distracted Neville from hearing Ariadne. He felt heat rising, inflaming his cheeks as he looked at the two Slytherins. Both looked at him with concern.
"Neville, are you alright?"
"No," the boy said quietly, letting his voice grow in strength. "No, I'm not alright."
There was a long pause. Neville clenched his fists and finally let it out.
"I can't believe you're only my friends for fame."
The confusion and concern vanished from Ariadne's face quickly. Draco's dissolved more slowly, like a cloud clearing up.
"Ariadne, go ahead to the kitchens and meet us by the lake. I'll explain it to Neville."
The Black heir gave her cousin a searching look, and he nodded at her. Her gray eyes softened looking at Neville, and then she walked away. Draco regarded his friend, then said in a calm, low voice, "it wasn't going good, with Professor Snape. Trying to get the forms, I mean... He wasn't going to give them to us. As soon as he said Ariadne was behaving like a Gryffindor, we weren't going to get them. So I went in a different direction, using a Slytherin perspective, with enough truth and logic in it to avoid being a lie altogether. I'm sorry that it- that we made you feel badly."
Neville absorbed all the information quietly.
"We're true friends, Neville," Draco added forcefully. "Especially me. You stood up for me in the duel with Potter, during flying lessons, and you don't care about my - my father or anything." There was a brief pause, and the pale blonde continued, "and I, I don't care that you're the Boy Who Lived. You're just Neville, and you are a really good friend."
It was a lot of emotion for two eleven year old boys to deal with. Neville was oddly embarrassed by Draco's words, but reassured. They both awkwardly grinned at each other, and then broke out into light laughter.
"So all's well?"
"Yes," Neville replied. "Alright let me grab a few things from the common room. I'll meet you at the lake."
Draco nodded. "Hurry up, though, I'm starving! Hope Ariadne got the dinner worked out by now."
Sure enough, by the time Neville made it to the lake with the "textbooks" in tow, Ariadne had managed her kitchen trick again: pasties and pocket pies, along with apples and cider. They ate everything sitting together on the lawn overlooking the lake, rising just as the sun began to dip in the sky, bringing beautiful red and orange rays to reflect and glint on the waters surface. Neville's Herbology textbooks quickly changed into boats with the last rays of the setting sun.
The ceremony was short and poignant. In the presence of Draco and Ariadne, Neville dared not repeat the words he knew Aunt Clare and Britta had spoken on the Trondheimsfjorden, that Oscar had spoken while launching his own boats of remembrance at Valhalla. So instead, the three transfigured boats were launched in silence on the Hogwarts lake. If Ariadne or Draco wondered who or what the third boat represented, they did not pry, and for that, Neville was grateful.
"Thank you both," Neville said softly. "You didn't have to skip the feast. But you did, and it's nice to have company, friends..."
Draco fidgeted, and Ariadne spoke for both of them.
"What are friends for? But I bet they're only halfway through: maybe we can sneak in and grab some extra food."
As eleven year-old boys do, Draco and Neville found the prospect of more food to be a great idea.
The three walled up to the castle, entering through the dungeon door Professor Snape had left open for them. They were about to turn into the corridor to head up the stairs to the feast in the Great Hall, when Draco stopped them.
"Do you hear that?"
Nevulle strained his ears. He could just vaguely make out the sound of footsteps and a large rumbling. He looked at the Slytherins, who were similarly looking nervous.
"TROLL!"
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley appeared as though out of nowhere, in a full on sprint panting and waving. The Gryffindors almost ran them over, but the loud growls of the hulking troll behind them spurred all five to continue running through the dungeons.
Neville turned over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the troll. Trolls had originated in Scandanavia, and Norway had its share of the three main kinds of trolls. He knew from its pale-grey flesh, bald head, and ice blue eyes that this was a mountain troll, the most aggressive and vicious of all the troll breed, and at that realization, his panic grew.
"In here!"
The five first-years ducked into a bathroom, and all quickly pressed themselves against the door.
"What are you lot doing down here?"
"Well," replied Potter, bracing himself against the wood as it shook from the blows of the troll's club, "we were trying to find Hermione."
"Hermione?" Neville and the Slytherins echoed.
"You were looking for me?"
With a small click, one of the stalls swung open, and the bushy-haired first year in question stood puzzled in the doorway.
"Yes," Harry said and elbowed Ron in the ribs. Weasley yelped, and grew redder. The door shuddered again.
"Err right. Hermione, I shouldn't have said that about you, and I'm sorry."
"We knew you didn't know about the troll," Harry added, "and Parvati said you were in a loo in the dungeons so we came to warn you."
"Wonderful, Harry, Weasley, just in time for us to all die together," Ariadne snapped nervously.
As if on cue, the troll's club burst through the door. The creature then stuck its face through the gaping hole to growl ferociously at the first years.
"Get away from the door! Wands out!"
Harry yelled, voice shaking somewhat. Neville didn't even question Potter, and neither did the others. They all backed up into the sinks, as far away from the door as they could go.
"Now what?" Draco asked.
"Erm..." And the six first years looked at each other. Neville thought he might drop his wand, his hands were shaking so much.
The troll didn't give them much time to think. In another second it had crashed through the door, swinging its club and bellowing.
"Look out!" The troll swung the club at them: they lunged and rolled out of the way, but Neville saw that he and Ariadne had been separated from the others. To his dismay, the troll noticed too, and turned his beady eyes on the two more vulnerable, easier targets. It grunted again, and saliva ran down its chin.
At the same time the panicked first-years said the same things that came into their minds.
"Lumos!" "Rictumsempra!"
Neville's light charm, partially powered by adrenaline, flared brightly in the trolls face, who was distracted and angered by the momentary blindness. Meanwhile, Ariadne's tickling charm hit the troll in its arm: it wasn't quite strong enough to affect the whole body, but the being did lower its club.
"Rictumsempra!"
Ariadne had repeated the spell, and she wasn't the only one. While one first year spell had not been quite enough, adding Draco and Harry's tickling charms sent the troll's arm into a small conniption, and the club fell to the floor.
"Wingardium leviosa!"
Both Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had similar ideas: the club promptly levitated overhead and fell, knocking the troll out with a thud and a loud crack of broken tiles.
"Ugh," said Harry, crawling over its body, "this thing smells horrible."
"What in Circe's name is going on?!"
Neville's heart dropped hearing the thunderous tones of his Head of House. He and his fellow first years turned to see Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape arriving at the scene. McGonagall in particular looked furious, Snape was looking equally murderous and kept his harshest stares for Potter and Weasley, while Flitwick was plainly shocked at seeing the unconscious troll on the floor and the students unharmed.
"Potter, Weasley, Granger, Malfoy, Black, explain yourselves!"
Neville hated to admit it, but he felt a little relieved that McGonagall had excluded him from her rant. All were silent, until Ariadne spoke first.
"Professor Snape gave Draco and I permission to accompany Neville," she answered. "We were on our way back to join the feast when we saw Harry and Ron being pursued by the troll, and we fled too."
"Is this true, Malfoy?" The pale blond nodded under McGonagall's frosty glare, which didn't lessen for an instant as she then zeroed in on her Lions.
"And why were you in the dungeons at all, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, expressly disobeying the Headmaster's instructions to return to your common room?"
"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me."
"Miss Granger!"
"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them."
Ron nearly dropped his wand. Neville was shocked. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?
"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. And then they all ran in here and held the door as long as possible. Then Neville blinded the troll and Ariadne, Harry and Draco tickled it so it dropped its club. Ron and I levitated the club and it knocked the troll out."
"That's true, Professor McGonagall," Harry piped in.
"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Black, can you confirm?" Professor Snape asked his charges. Neville could see the hackles rising on Harry at Snape's blatant disregard for his endorsement of Hermione's version of events.
Both Slytherins gave nods of assent, trying to pretend that the tale was absolutely accurate.
"Very well. You'll each serve two detentions with Filch repairing and cleaning this lavatory. Ten points to Slytherin for cunning and using a simple spell to deprive a mountain troll of its weapon."
He looked at Potter, who had been excluded from the points, with a cold expression. McGonagall's nostrils flared. Neville looked up at her, concerned but eager.
"While I disagree with Professors Snape's decision to award points, I will treat my Gryffindors fairly," she said, looking at her colleague in rebuke.
"Therefore, Miss Granger, I am taking 10 points from Gryffindor for your foolhardy behavior and failure to obey rules. Mr. Longbottom, Potter, and Weasley, you will earn 5 points each for your courage and determination to help a classmate. And you will all serve the two detentions with Miss Black and Mr Malfoy."
Snape looked at McGonagall but merely nodded.
"Now return to your common rooms. Immediately."
Neville found himself jumping to obey those silky tones of Snape, and he wasn't the only one. The six first years exited quickly, Ariadne and Draco muttering quick farewells to the Gryffindors as they headed down the passage to their common room. On the long walk back to Gryffindor Tower, none of the Lions spoke until just outside the portrait.
"Thanks." Harry and Hermione said it simultaneously, and no other words needed to be said. The bookworm hurried through the portrait hole, and just then the Weasley twins stuck their heads out.
"Oi! Where've you lot been?" Fred demanded.
Harry laughed jauntily.
"The usual, Fred, knocking out mountain trolls in the girls lavs."
"What?"
"He's right," Ron added. "We did. Neville too, and Hermione."
"Incredible!" The twins exchanged amused and amazed grins. Neville felt faintly pleased, but then amended, "and Draco and Ariadne helped too."
Ron scowled at Neville and rolled his eyes.
"Can't we have a moment of victory without giving Snakes the credit?"
Harry shrugged. "They were there, mate."
"Who cares if the slimy Slytherins were there! Now tell us everything," Fred demanded, pulling his brother through the portrait.
"You too, Harry, Longbottom." George bowed from the waist and ushered the two inside. Then yelled at the top of his lungs, "OI! Who wants to hear about ickle firsties knocking trolls out?"
Thirty minutes later, half the house had gathered to hear the tale, made longer by the frequent questions by Dean and Seamus, and comic asides from the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. Though Harry took the lead, Ron had good contributions and to his surprise, both boys made efforts to include Necille in the telling, and the house was eager for the perspective of the Boy-Who-Lived. When the tale was finally told, all assembled were in awe of their first year troll destroyers.
"I think," Fred Weasley said solemnly, standing upon a sofa, George nodding beside him in concurrence, "nay, I declare, this to be the coolest, and probably bravest thing Gryffindor first years have ever done. All in favor?"
"Aye!" The common room avowed as one, and promptly broke into cheers for the Lions.
Neville had never felt so happy to be a Gryffindor.