Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the authors, producers, and companies with whom the material in question is affiliated.
A/N: Here you go! Real life is starting back up again, so I may have to start posting weekly or bi-weekly rather than the insane pace I set for the last book. Thanks for your continued interest and for taking the time to read.
Chapter Three – Birthday Cakes and Oxygen Factories
The boys and Jenny went first, and to Neville's delight, the floo dropped them not in a parlour or a foyer, but in the most bizarre and beautiful room he'd ever seen.
Cheery, yellowish panelling and sweeping, graceful beams supporting a bright, vaulted ceiling. Circular windows of orange and yellow stained glass, enclosed by swirling vine wood, glinted merrily in the early afternoon sunlight. Most peculiarly, the beams did not seem carved or even held in place by any visible fasteners or supports; rather, they seemed to grow from the very floor itself in an unbroken swirl of smooth, polished wood that ended just before the far wall's edge, where an opening in the floor revealed an equally organic spiral staircase leading downward.
Augusta stepped out of the fireplace and stared about with open surprise and turned to Harry's parents as soon as they strolled out of the green flames.
"This is lovely, but I can't imagine this is your home, Mr and Mrs Smith," she quipped.
"Where are we?" Neville asked, peeping through the nearest window.
Wherever it was appeared to be very high up.
"You'll see!" Jenny crowed.
She ran down the stairs and out of sight.
"Apologies, Gussie," the Doctor said with a grin. "Kind of like your home, we've set the floos for one-way travel from within the house. This is our only entry point for apparition, floo, or portkey, so we decided to keep it separate from the main house."
Neville broke into a wide grin as he turned to Harry.
"This is the tree house!" he exclaimed.
"Yup."
"Tree-house?" Augusta murmured. "How very odd."
Harry smiled and gave a brief tour as he led the way down the sweeping staircase.
"Dad and I have been experimenting since he got home. This room was my idea, based on what Dad told me about his old transport and what I saw in the Hufflepuff common room."
Augusta raised an eyebrow, and Neville laughed.
"They've all but adopted him, Gran. He spent a whole weekend figuring out how to get in, and since Hermione vouched for him, he's been there loads of time since."
Harry shrugged.
"I made it harder than it should have been – Too vain to get sprayed with enchanted vinegar. Anyway, Dad's gotten really good at influencing wood. He found that if the tree's still growing, he can use runes and spellwork to make it maintain a transfiguration without drawing on his magic. It looks like it's grown because it is grown. There's not a fastener here at all. The trick was splicing different plant cuttings into the design to get the scrolling vines."
"It's amazing," Neville breathed. "You've combined transfiguration and herbology. Professor Sprout would love this."
The level below the sitting room served as a potions lab. The cloud-shaped windows were paned with the bottoms of old yellow and green bottles in varying shades. A long workbench stretched around the edge of the room wherever the staircase didn't, holding wracks of glass phials, a large glass cauldron with a matching lid, several non-magical appliances, and, for a reason Neville couldn't discern, a rubber mallet.
"Very impressive work, Mr Smith," Augusta said appreciatively. "Although, this last room is most unusual."
They had reached the original floor with the familiar high definition screen and beanbag chairs. Round wooden trays floated at seated height near each beanbag (which wore all shades of warm brown leather as opposed to the house-oriented colours of those at Hogwarts), and an odd panel floated near the television covered in buttons, toggles and dials.
"This is how we communicate most often with the kids at school," Rose explained. "One afternoon the Doctor was just sitting in here, working, and the screen came on, and Harry was there, staring back at us."
"How extraordinary," Augusta mused. "How does one achieve such a feat? I thought floo was the only alternative to post for communication with Hogwarts students."
"There's a room," Harry supplied. "We just stumbled across it early during our first term when I was missing my parents. The house elf that takes care of the Slytherin first years, Cuddie, later told me they call it the come-and-go room."
"It gives you whatever you want," Neville added. "You just have to focus on your specific need, and there it is. We even made it give us a swimming pool, once."
"Gracious," the old woman smiled faintly. "I daresay you're getting into even more than your father did at school. I'm amazed you haven't gotten into trouble with Minnie, yet."
Harry and Neville tried not to look guilty, or look at each other at all for fear of laughing.
"We are, too. There have been a few close shaves," Harry finally managed.
"Anyway," the Doctor said, bouncing ahead of his guests. "I'm sure everyone will be pleased to know I've installed a secret lift, so we don't have to use the ladder unless you really want to."
"Since when?" Harry laughed.
Rose rolled her eyes.
"He was up all night doing it, and woke me up at half past four to show me."
"I needed someone non-magical to test it on," he pouted. "Just in case."
"Right."
The Doctor tapped on the wall just a few feet away from the staircase's end. A panel, previously indistinguishable from the rest of the wall, popped open to reveal a hollow behind it. The Doctor grinned at them all, gestured them forward, and pulled the cord nestled within.
Harry gasped. It was as if they, or the floor, had become no more substantial than air. One moment they were standing on the first floor of the tree house and the next, the lush grass of their garden sprawled underfoot.
"Most delightful," Augusta laughed. "I do say, Mr Smith, I find your fanciful constructions very diverting. And what a beautiful garden you have."
"Wow," Neville agreed. "Mrs Smith, have you taken up herbology, too?"
"I have. I can't use a wand or spells, but I'm fairly good at the more physical aspects of magic," she said a little proudly. "I've got a wonderful growth of flutterby bushes and moonvine."
They continued on toward the house, and Neville delighted in naming all the new magical additions to the garden on the way. In the brief time since Harry returned to Hogwarts after Christmas, Rose and the Doctor had been experimenting with every aspect of magic they could touch. Now, nearly every room in the house held something extraordinary, and the garden and tree house stood as a testament to everything else they had learned. Jenny waited for them just inside the doorway to the games room, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"What took you so long?" she complained. "Dippy's already started on dinner."
"Oh, I wish she wouldn't" the Doctor frowned, turning to Augusta. "I wanted to make the boys something special."
"She'll allow you to help," the matriarch laughed. "But I doubt you'll get her to leave you to it. Believe you me, I have tried many a time. Eventually, I just gave up."
"She's wonderful," Rose said. "And she's amazing with Jenny," she added in an undertone as the little girl ran off again.
Rose and the Doctor led the woman into the sitting room, leaving the boys to their own devices. Harry smiled and continued the tour, ending with his own bedroom. Neville looked around interestedly. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves comprised the wall to the left side of the door, and the wall opposite them featured dressers and shelves where a few well-loved toys and some models gave him hints at what must have been a very fun childhood. Harry's bed lay unmade to the right, between a huge, mechanical model of the solar system and a bedside table.
"This is where you'll sleep," Harry said as he pushed on a section of the centre bookshelf. "Sorry there's not a guest bedroom. Dad made the first two into a lab and library, respectively, and the other one belongs to my Uncle. Tony stays over whenever he needs to get away from society life or his mum, or both."
Neville gaped as an arched portion of shelving rotated out of sight. Its other side created an arched alcove housing a cushy daybed littered with cushions and comfy knitted blankets. Naked light bulbs hanging from the alcove's rounded ceiling flickered to life as soon as the section clicked into place.
"Your house is brilliant, Harry," Neville said. "Amazing."
"Mum says Dad's really a ten-year-old stuck in a grown-up's body. He goes a little mad when we remodel."
"So, did he just..?"
"I don't like studying at a desk really, and Dad said I should never mix my sleeping place with my studying place, so he built me a 'reading nook.'"
"That's a reading nook?"
Harry shrugged.
"Like I said. He goes a bit mad."
Neville laughed and tucked his suitcase into the open storage beneath the daybed.
"Thanks for having me over. Honestly, my birthday's usually really dull."
"It's no problem, Nev. So is mine. I've always been the odd one at school, you know? So no one ever came over."
"Thanks, anyway. This is going to be brilliant, even if Great Auntie Enid and Great Uncle Algie are still coming over for lunch."
Harry grinned.
"Dad's got a surprise in store for you all. He doesn't know I know, but I caught him tinkering the other day."
"I hope it's not too lively. Auntie Enid's got a nervous disposition."
Both boys held their somewhat serious looks for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter. Neville may not have known the Doctor as well as Harry, but he knew that much at least: He never did anything by halves, and definitely didn't do not lively.
…
Fortunately Great-Uncle Algie and Great-Auntie Enid, despite their great ages of 142 and 115, respectively, possessed just the sense of humour the Doctor approved of. Otherwise, the explosion that splattered them all with robin's-egg-blue frosting and sumptuous angel food cake might have steered the birthday tea off course. Still, Neville thought the entire affair teetered between highly entertaining and nerve wracking for a number of reasons.
First, every so often, Jenny belched a shower of sparks over the dinner table, which would then bounce and change the colour of whatever they touched. It was later revealed she'd gotten into a package of Dr Fillibuster's Edible, Belchable Sparkler Sweets. Once, when Neville happened to look away from his food, he found his roast duck replaced with half a steak. He looked away again to find a slice of quiche. When he asked Harry, his friend could only shrug.
"I think Dad was experimenting before Dippy started serving dinner," he said. "Anything could happen."
But the surprises did not end with the rather odd dining experience. When they moved into the sitting room for tea and biscuits, Neville witnessed the most incredible thing he had ever seen.
He had, of course, noticed the large television mounted on the wall of the sitting room, but what it could do awed and inspired him. He sat between Harry and Jenny on the largest sofa, the telly came to life, and the most extraordinary things came across its screen accompanied by cheery music that filled the room so completely that he looked for the orchestra responsible. A beautiful woman in a jaunty hat wearing red lipstick sat upon a cloud beside a large carpetbag and an umbrella with a handle like a bird.
"What a delightful portrait," Great Auntie Enid complimented. "But where are all the subjects coming from? Do you have other portraits upstairs?"
"Auntie Enid," Rose said with a mischievous smile, "It's my pleasure to introduce you to the invention non-magical people call a film."
The Doctor and Rose went into a quick explanation of what films were, all while Neville stared in wonder as the tale of Mary Poppins and the Banks family.
"Well," Augusta said when it had finished. "I can't say much for Mrs Banks' singing voice, but I do agree with her sentiments. It is a shame to admit it, but a married woman, even an ennobled one, has little say in her life. If it weren't for my dear father's trust in me, there was every chance our Neville would have nothing to inherit at all, let alone the roof over our heads."
She smirked.
"My dear cousins the Selwyns certainly attempted to take it from me."
Harry and Neville exchanged looks at that, both privately shuddering at the bloodthirsty expression on Augusta's face.
"But you were far too canny for that, sis," Algie croaked approvingly. "He still whinges about it."
"Are you sure this Mary Poppins wasn't a witch?" Great Auntie Enid asked, stirring a second shot of brandy into her tea. "Only wizards tidy up with a click of the fingers."
"Yes, very," Rose smiled. "I was mad about the film when I was a kid, so I looked up where Mr Disney got the idea from. There was a very real Mr Banks, just as cross as the one in the story, and his daughter wrote a novel about her childhood."
"Now–" The Doctor clapped his hands together and grinned about at everyone. "How about we open presents?"
"Presents!" Jenny crowed.
The visit ended soon thereafter. Once the boys had unwrapped their birthday gifts and said their thanks, Neville's family departed the children and Smiths. Augusta left them with the promise to meet on the first of August in Diagon Alley.
Exhausted and stuffed to the brim with pleasant memories and wonderful food, Neville and Harry barely managed to get up the stairs for bed while the Smiths took care of their daughter. Hyped up as she was on tea and sugar, Jenny had only made it to half past eight before collapsing on the hammock downstairs.
"What do you think?" Rose whispered as she flipped off the last lights.
The Doctor smiled as he lifted his limp daughter into his arms. He waved a hand at the abandoned teacups and saucers, which sailed gracefully away to slip quietly into the sink, submitting themselves to the tender mercies of an animated scrub brush and dishrag.
"I think everyone had lots of fun," the Doctor replied. "The kids are cream-crackered."
Rose smiled as she held open Jenny's bedroom door.
"I don't think Harry's ever enjoyed himself more."
When Neville woke the next morning, he could scarcely believe the evening before had happened at all. If it weren't for the birthday presents strewn about his bed, he wouldn't have. The wand-controlled mechanical mouse Harry gifted him (adjusted for a magical environment and fitted with a tiny camera and listening device for his snooping needs) twirled and squeaked tinnily at him when he sat up to step into his slippers.
"Morning," Harry mumbled.
Neville laughed when the boy tossed off his covers. His hair stood up all over, as if someone had rubbed his scalp with a balloon.
"Happy birthday," Neville grinned. "What are we doing today?"
Harry yawned, slid out of bed, put on his glasses, and started toward his bureau.
"No idea. Mum and Dad planned a surprise."
Neville couldn't imagine what sort of surprise could top last night's festivities, but went along with it, anyway. Certainly, whatever it was, Mr and Mrs Smith seemed very excited all through breakfast, after which they were instructed to 'dress non-magical-like', which translated in neat but casual clothes for their kids. Jenny picked a pair of closely fitted jeans, trainers, a blue button-up shirt and a tiny version of the Doctor's duster. Harry went with similarly slim, fitted jeans, a burgundy tee featuring a stylised picture of an iron printed across his chest and the word 'Irony' underneath, smart oxford shoes, and a light grey blazer. The Doctor as always kept his suit, but Rose chose jeans, like her kids. On his part, the Gryffindor felt a little out-of-place in his pressed khaki trousers and crip, button-up shirt as he, Harry and Jenny sat in the back of their family's blue car. Harry, apparently, noticed his discomfort because he started talking as the car sped onto the motorway.
"A few weeks ago, this car wouldn't have fit three of us back here, even though Jen's so tiny."
"Hey!" Jenny complained.
Harry smirked at her.
"You'll grow, eventually."
The little girl stuck her tongue out at him.
"Did you resize it, Doctor?" Neville asked.
Harry's dad winked and smiled secretively.
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. It's technically illegal to alter or enchant non-magically produced vehicles and items without special dispensation from the Ministry."
The Gryffindor snorted a laugh.
"So what else have you gotten up to this summer?" Harry prompted.
The blonde boy shrugged as he unbuttoned and carefully rolled up one sleeve, then the other. It was a little too hot for them.
"Tended to the greenhouses, mostly," he offered. "I did some practice casting for charms and transfiguration, but it's still slow-going. I can barely manage to consistently do the ones you lot helped me with."
"What about wandless?"
"Much better, actually," Neville blushed a bit and grimaced. "I've been doing a lot of levitation and banishing charms. Not nearly as good as you or Hermione, though. I barely passed my practicals last term, and I've not improved much with the spells I need for year-end exams. They'll probably hold me back this year."
The Slytherin frowned and twisted a bit to look around Jenny and her child car seat.
"You can't tell me you still think you're not a good wizard," he said disbelievingly. "You knocked Voldemort on his arse."
"Language," the Doctor reminded lightly.
"Sorry, Dad. 'Bum,' then."
Neville shrugged again and shifted self-consciously.
"That was different, and it was probably mostly you and Hermione."
"I was half passed out and not quite over my dreamless sleep potion," Harry protested. "You and Hermione did the heavy lifting. I just aimed."
"Well," the round-faced boy shrugged helplessly. "Either way, I'm rubbish with everything else. I can manage some charms, like I said, but transfiguration never feels right."
The Doctor twisted in his seat to look at the boy curiously. He flipped his screwdriver out of his sleeve and hummed at whatever he saw.
"Maybe it's the wand, Nev," he suggested. "I don't think it likes you."
"Oh," Harry laughed. "I completely forgot about that. Maybe we should pop into Ollivander's. I bet that's exactly what it is. Explains why you don't have any more trouble with wandless than Hermione."
Neville slipped into a contemplative frown, and Harry respectfully let him think about it.
"We're nearly there," Rose commented after a while.
The car slowed and exited into a tunnel lit with electric lights and helpful signs. Excitement radiated off the woman as they turned again at a sign that read Wimbledon Commons Underground Parking, and the boys couldn't help but soak it up.
"You're going to love this," she said, bouncing a little in her seat.
"But this just goes to the W-C car park," Jenny pouted. "Are we going to ride in Grandpa's zeppelin?"
The little blue car pulled into a space. The Doctor began pulling badges out of the glove compartment while the children watched in bemusement.
"Nope," Rose grinned. "Everyone out. You'll see soon enough."
The air ship docks, better known as the Wimbledon Sky Palace (or simply Sky Palace, for short), were located on the grounds of Wimbledon Common. A beautiful construction of sparkling glass spires and domes made up the terminal, over which the air ships idled as passengers boarded and disembarked. Smaller vessels docked at shining steel and glass platforms stretching behind the palace. Neat gardens overflowing with English roses and other such flora lay at its feet, among which one could ride horseback (if so inclined), a golf cart (as was more common), or walk while the zeppelins took off and landed overhead.
The sight overwhelmed Neville like Mary Poppins had the night before as he and his hosts rode the glass-encased lift from the car park to the top level of the palace (with the help of the Doctor's shining badges).
A pleasant, disembodied voice, not unlike the one he once heard in a Ministry lift, welcomed them as the lift slowed from a quick clip to a gentle stop.
"Level fifteen, First Class concourse. British LuxeAir wishes you a pleasant journey!"
Masterfully etched doors slid smoothly open for them, and Neville found himself looking everywhere at once. He marvelled at it all. Like at the International Portkey offices, there were brass and marble ticketing desks and seating arranged for reception, but that was all he recognized from his few dealings with travel. The Ministry's portkey terminals were cramped, with a few spindly chairs to sit in while travellers waited to stand, elbow-to-elbow, next to crotchety strangers too early in the morning or very late at night. These, after all, were the only times wizards could travel en masse without drawing notice for their odd dress or mannerisms while leaving arrival locations.
The Sky Palace, too, claimed seating, but comprised of luxurious settees and velvet-upholstered chairs. Marble-topped side tables flanked each area in tasteful arrangements, upon which passengers rest fine china cups of coffee, tea, sparkling flutes of champagne, and other colourful concoctions. He briefly wondered what the little umbrellas were for, but quickly lost focus at the sight of the staff.
Every single red-uniformed employee looked like they had been cut from one of Lavender Brown's magazines. Beautiful men and women wandered among the travellers, carrying serving trays, bussing trolleys, or providing other assistance.
"This way, kids," Rose instructed, leading them all past the shining desks and through the glamorous crowd.
Neville and Harry followed at a sedate pace while Jenny rushed to keep up with her parents.
"Something feels different about this place today," Harry whispered as they approached the largest desk at the end of the long room.
"Is it always this… Ostentatious?" Neville murmured.
The Doctor and Rose presented the badges to the man posted there and commenced a whispered conversation as Neville continued staring around.
"Yeah, in First Class. The lower levels are for Business and Second Class boarding, and they're not quite as nice as up here, but still pretty spectacular, especially compared to flying by plane."
"I've heard about zeppelins, but I never thought I'd ride in one," the Gryffindor said a little hesitantly. "How does it stay up?"
Harry tilted his head slightly as he strung together an explanation he thought a wizard-raised kid might understand.
"You know how McGonagall's always on about the type of materials used in transfiguration?"
Neville blinked.
"Yeah?"
"If you take a lump of iron and drop it in water, it'd sink," Harry hedged. "But what happens if you transfigure the iron into cork, for example?"
"It floats."
"That's because a lump of iron's a lot denser than the stuff that makes up cork," the Slytherin concluded.
"I'm following," said Neville, confusion clear on his face.
"Well, just like iron's denser than a cork, the air inside the zeppelin's less dense than what's outside of it."
The round-faced boy grinned.
"I see," he said. "So its basically a big balloon? I didn't know there were different types of air, though."
Harry nodded emphatically while Jenny looked up at them in disbelief. Her brother gave her what she dubbed a it's-a-wizkid-thing look, and she rolled her eyes.
"Yep," he agreed. "It's a balloon with a motor and climate control, and remind me to introduce you to YouTube."
"I will. Er-" Neville glanced around.
The Doctor and Rose continued their furtive conversation with the man behind the counter, oblivious as the kids in their charge fidgeted in growing anticipation.
"Are we going to ride in one?" he guessed.
"Really, I don't know," Harry sighed. "I gave up trying to guess what my parents are up to ages ago. We once rode a giant worm through an underground station."
"Really?"
"Jallyngoloris named Jeff. Nice chap. A little slimy, though."
Neville decided he never wanted to really know what a Jallyngoloris was. He shuddered a little at the thought.
"Brilliant!" Rose crowed as she turned to the kids.
Behind her, the concierge dashed off with their badges in hand. The Doctor rocked on the balls of his feet and practically twinkled as he smiled at them.
"Oh, you're in for a treat, kids," he breathed. "Really wonderful timing, this."
"What?" Jenny begged. "Daddy, please, I don't like surprises!"
"Liar. You love surprises. You're just very impatient."
"There he is. Let's go!" Rose squealed.
The concierge had nodded at them just once from the far end of the concourse, where he stood before a scarlet curtain. The curtain draped the spot where gate nineteen should have been, based on the numbers over the adjacent archways, in an area cordoned off in velvet rope.
Rose waved them forward and held back the cord for the kids to pass. She pecked the Doctor on the cheek before linking arms and following them through the curtain. Like the other gates, the arched entrance led to a glass corridor carpeted with the same burgundy as the First Class concourse. The children curiously followed the gangway onward, but couldn't see the point. There seemed to be nothing at the end of it.
The Doctor took the lead as they approached the corridor's end and pressed his palm to a consol housed in the centre of the left-side wall. Rose mirrored him with the consol on the opposite side. The wall they faced shuddered and blinked, the colours fluctuating, until it seemingly faded from existence. Sweet humid air spilled out.
Where there should have been steps or an entry corridor, all they saw was green. Ferns larger than the boys were tall protruded from the opening, behind which they could make out a tangle of slim, mossy trunks and vines. Harry thought he heard the call of a howler monkey and definitely saw a flash of gold and blue as some tropical bird flew out of sight.
"Go on," Rose urged them. "It's a project Torchwood's research team have been working on to test compression fields and miniaturisation. It's perfectly safe, now that the Doctor's tweaked it to be bigger on the inside, instead. Also, the animals on the floor level are all designated non-harmful to humans larger than infant-sized. Try not to squish anything by accident, though."
"Well, me and a bunch of non-wizard-raised chaps that decided working in the magical world wasn't worth the stigma," the Doctor admitted. "We've signed loads of wizards onto both Unit and Torchwood since you lot started Hogwarts. We're hoping to re-grow the oxygen factories in South America."
"Oxygen factories?"
"He means the rain forests," Harry breathed with a glance to his friend. "The local farmers in South America have to compete with other countries' produce companies for sales and land, and they can't afford to let their land rest. Eventually, the soil won't support their crops, so they have to burn the forest to feed their families. No trees, no air. The rainforests are responsible for most of the world's oxygen: one of those gasses I was telling you about. It's the one that lets us breathe."
Jenny stepped aboard eagerly, and the Doctor and Rose watched in smug satisfaction as the kids dashed off to explore the jungle beyond the wall-that-wasn't. Peaty soil whispered and squelched underfoot, and lush greens brushed their sides as they wandered after their kids' happy voices. Blue-winged butterflies, hand-length dragonflies, shining honeybees, colourful birds, scurrying reptiles, neon amphibians and nearly invisible rodents flew, scurried and crawled through the canopy and underbrush. Eventually, they all wound up on the bank of a slow-moving river and settled in for a picnic to watch the clouds float over the transparent ceiling.
"Is it magic or is it really see-through?" Neville wondered aloud before biting into an excellent beef and cucumber sandwich.
Rose smiled and leaned into the Doctor's chest.
"Both. Ceiling's made of a super-strong safety glass-ish stuff, and the zeppelin's gas chamber's rigged to project the sky outside, except when it's time for it to rain."
"When's that?" Harry asked as he tossed another cherry tomato to the ducks swimming just off the bank.
The Doctor checked his wristwatch.
"Not for another hour or so. There's a hut we can visit when it does, or we can swim."
"That's all right," Neville mumbled. "I didn't bring my costume."
"It was a pre-planned surprise," Rose reminded him. "I had Gussie leave it with us."
One rain shower, several sandwiches, nineteen bottles of juice and water, and one very nice swim, another birthday cake (to make up for the exploded one from yesterday's tea), and one sunset later, the Doctor announced it was time to disembark.
"We've just landed," he said, leading the way back to the entrance.
"I didn't know we were moving at all," Jenny yawned. "Where are we now?"
"Hotel for the night," Rose answered, ushering them out the door and down a rope ladder onto a flat, brick rooftop. "We'll have dinner in the restaurant and tomorrow, it'll be off to Diagon Alley."
Thoroughly exhausted after a day of excitement, Neville curled up in the tidy single bed beside Harry's at the super-clean and uncluttered hotel Rose had chosen for the night. He felt thoroughly glad the adventure didn't come at the price of breaking into forbidden corridors to fight dark wizards. Harry could invite him along on this sort of enterprise any time, because Neville felt sure: It was the best birthday he had ever enjoyed.