AN: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 3: The Ball

Augusta Longbottom towered over the sharply dressed goblin with her stuffed vulture hat and bright red handbag. "What part of 'I wish to speak with your vault inspector' did you not understand?" she calmly reiterated.

Neville looked to the ceiling of Gringotts and wished he could Apparate out of there and back home. He'd been dragged around all day to see different people, get formal robes for a stupid ball, been told he couldn't see his parents in St. Mungo, and now his Gran was about to yell at a goblin for trying to charge a service fee for some inane reason. His thoughts went back to his greenhouses and the new purchases Gran had allowed him to make. He knew Zoe would love some of the selections.

There were times when he really liked being around Zoe, and other times she simply confused him. She was bright, ambitious, and caring, but at the same time, she seemed distant and cold. He wasn't sure if it was because of how she grew up, the House she was sorted into, or whatever happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry had never talked about what happened to Zoe down there, and she had never wanted to tell Neville her side of the story. While it bothered him that his friend and girlfriend didn't want to discuss it, he respected them both. If Zoe didn't want to discuss it, Neville was okay with it. One day, she might, but until then, he would wait.

A noise made him aware of what was around them. His Gran had gone off somewhere, leaving him alone. She'd probably told him something, but he hadn't been listening. An argument between two wizards had drawn his attention. One was for Fudge and the other for Barty Crouch Senior. Neville knew more than most about the inner workings of the Ministry, thanks to his Gran's insight and her role within the School of Governors. She'd warned him about significant changes coming to the Ministry and Hogwarts.

Neville knew, in his heart-of-hearts, that Harry wouldn't be returning. Hermione and Ginny had written to him, asking his opinion. He thought he knew his friend pretty well. He also had the benefit of seeing what Harry worked on in the boy's dormitory. Harry was studying other schools and French. It was clear he wanted to go to Beauxbatons. Neville wasn't sure it was the right decision, and he would miss his friend, but it was Harry's life to live.

The argument grew louder until one of the goblins dressed as a security guard ambled over. He growled something at the two wizards, but they ignored him. Neville shook his head and looked around for a seat to wait on his Gran. The two wizards were drawing more attention to themselves. Neville knew what would come next. Seven goblins came out of a side hall. Six were guards, and the seventh, in the lead, wore an expensive three-piece suit. He walked over to the two wizards and produced two long strips of parchment before saying something.

Neville couldn't hear the conversation, but he knew it was something like, "You both are found guilty of disturbing Gringotts peace. You both will pay the fine and be escorted out, or the contents of your vaults will be forfeited." By the shocked and angry looks on the wizards' faces, Neville thought he might be right. Under the baleful glare of the goblins, the two wizards signed the documents and left, glaring at one another.

Neville waited another thirty minutes before his Gran appeared, looking happy. Of course, most wouldn't know what Augusta Longbottom's happy expression was, as she always wore a severe frown, but Neville knew. She'd gotten whatever she wanted. "Are you ready? Good, come," his Gran ordered as she strode toward the door.

Neville bit back a sigh as they walked out of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The harsh sunlight blinded him for a moment. He squinted and tried to follow behind the vague dark shape of his Gran's oversized hat. She led him toward the area designated for the Floo Network. "Before we leave, do you need anything?" she asked at the base of the long stairs leading up to the bank.

"No, Gran. Just to head home."

"Aside from Herbology, have you decided which O.W.L.s you'll aim for?"

They passed a group of young witches and wizards. Only two of them Neville knew from Hogwarts, but they all had British accents. He knew not everyone went to Hogwarts, and even with Fudge's decree the previous year, only a handful or so more students arrived at Hogwarts. They'd mostly been first or second-year students who wouldn't have gone to Hogwarts otherwise. "I'm considering Charms, Herbology, and maybe Defense Against the Dark Arts," he answered as they crossed the street toward Flourish and Blotts.

"Not Transfiguration?" Augusta questioned sharply.

"I don't think I'll do well in the N.E.W.T. level courses."

"Nonsense, your mother was a deft hand at Transfiguration."

Neville had nothing to say to that. As much as he loved her, he wasn't his mother. They lapsed into silence until they came to the marble fireplaces. "I need to stop by to see a friend before dinner. I should expect I will find you in your greenhouses?"

"Yes, Gran," Neville answered as he drew out a small pouch from inside his robes. Taking a tiny pinch of green powder, he threw it into the orange flames. The fire turned green. "Longbottom Estate," he said as he stepped into the magic fire and dropped a little more of the powder.

Endless darkness wrapped around him as he surged forward through the Floo Network. Pinpricks of light showed him where lit fireplaces were within Wizard Britain. He passed several before he found a small cluster of fireplaces. Without directing his body, the Floo Network angled him slightly away from the cluster of lights and toward a single orange flame.

Neville stepped out of the fireplace in the Entrance Hall. Deep blue walls with red trim and dark wood paneling comprised most of the estate's interior. Small displays of wealth in certain rooms were all his Gran would allow. She claimed it was unnecessary to flaunt one's wealth everywhere, only where business matters needed to be conducted. Neville didn't care one way or another.

He strode past a gilded grandfather clock and a portrait of his great-grandfather. Killian Longbottom passed away when he slipped and fell, cracking his head on the mantlepiece in the Entrance Hall. Whenever Neville used the Floo, he was reminded of holding his granddad as he passed away. Passing from the Hall, Neville went into the secondary passage that connected the dining room and kitchen. The Longbottoms did not use House-elves and hadn't for many generations, but his granddad once employed servants. Skilled witches and wizards would take care of the general maintenance of the estate and surrounding countryside.

Now, it was just him, Gran, and a gardener who came around occasionally while Neville was at school. He suspected Gran employed a maid or chef while he was gone, but he'd never seen them to be sure. Entering the kitchen, Neville passed the wide island table to look out the back bay window. Three long greenhouses provided everything the Longbottoms needed in the way of vegetables and even a little income.

Every time Neville went to school, he worried for his plants. He knew he could take good care of them, but trusting someone else to care after his hard work was difficult. Ollie, the part-time gardener, hadn't let any of his plants die yet. Exiting through the side door, Neville passed the broom and cauldron mudroom before exiting the back door.

Cool, slightly salty air hit his face as he breathed in his home's sights, smells, and feel. Rushing down the path, he made it to Greenhouse 1. It was his first greenhouse and arguably the most important. Using raised beds, treated soil, and careful rotation, Neville produced more vegetables, herbs, and berries than he knew what to do with. Whatever Gran couldn't use went into compost or was sold at a local market by Ollie.

Neville spent some time checking up on his non-magical plants. Just as he was about to leave, a small dark cloud gathered above the western half of the greenhouse and dumped little bits of rain onto the beds. He grinned. Atmospheric Charms were amazing to watch but hadn't been very much fun to enchant. He owed Professor Lupin a lot for sending him the charms he wanted for Christmas. They were similar to the ones used in the growing box present Harry made him.

Greenhouse 2 had a mix of dangerous but weak plants, magical herbs used for potions, and fungi in the cellar. Gran wouldn't let him get the plants he really wanted until he graduated. He didn't spend too much time in Greenhouse 2, as he'd done maintenance and careful pruning the day before. After collecting a few mushrooms for dinner, Neville moved to his newest greenhouse. It was his Christmas present from his Gran. She wrote him and told him it would be ready by the time he got back from school, and it was. At first, he wanted to fill the greenhouse with more magical plants, but after careful consideration, he realized he needed somewhere to work with all the ingredients he was growing. Harry always talked about how expensive potion ingredients were.

One day, he might turn the greenhouse into a proper area to cultivate plants, but for now, it was his storehouse and processing area. Glass jars, crates, and barrels lined the outer edge by the windows. Anything that was light-sensitive went inside the covered beds in the center of the greenhouse. He set up compost and fertilizer near the back with plenty of airflow and Mintvines to help hide any unwanted smells.

Mintvines were one of his first accidental successes in combining plants. The previous summer, he'd experimented with cuttings from different plants, herbs, and vines. He'd created something new by combining a little magic, mint cuttings, and English Ivy. The small fruit from the English Ivy was still mildly poisonous, but the leaves smelled of mint. He managed to coax the climbing vine to wrap around the arch near the back of the greenhouse.

Gran came to collect him for dinner about an hour into his experimentation with growing Cicuta virosa, or cowbane. He wanted to be able to produce his own Doxycide to have around.

"Will Uncle Algie be back from Assyria soon?" Neville asked when they sat down for dinner. His Gran had cooked for them, but he helped prepare the vegetables from his garden.

"Sometime before your birthday," Augusta answered, her posture straight back. Neville knew she was looking for the right way to say something. He continued to eat. "Have you considered who you will take to the Summer Ball? Unless Miss Stewart can make it?"

Neville winced. "I would rather go as a solo than ask one of the others," he said carefully.

"That is your prerogative; however, may I suggest an alternative? Ask Susan Bones as a friendly escort only."

Neville paused and put his fork down. He thought over the implications of what he knew. "People are drawing sides already," he sighed.

"Astute," Augusta praised. "The Bones are neutral, as am I. It would be in poor taste to ask the heiress Greengrass to the ball with you."

Neville winced. After what Hermione hinted at, he wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with the Greengrass family. "I'll write Zoe and see what she thinks," he decided. His Gran giving him options was strange. Maybe it was because he was getting older, or, more likely, that he was proving to her that he was becoming more magically powerful. Augusta Longbottom cared deeply for the continuation of a magically strong family line.

He could tell his answer didn't make Gran happy, but she didn't scold him either. They ate silently as he reviewed what he'd need to send to both witches.

That night, Neville wrote to Zoe about the upcoming ball and his Gran's plan. He left it open for her to say no to, as he knew it wasn't her fault she couldn't make it. Her parents were keeping her out of all the politics. He wished Gran would let him stay out of it all, but she was firm in her decision. Once the family owl was off, he sat down to compose a letter to Madam Bones and Susan Bones.

Zoe's letter arrived around midday the next day. She wasn't happy but understood. With her permission, Neville sent off the two letters he'd spent the night composing. With a fortnight before the ball, he would need to give them plenty of time. Madam Bones went to the Summer Ball yearly, but her niece didn't. Neville sat on the side porch of the west wing, watching the family owl fly away. He wished he wouldn't have had to go to ball at all.

-X-X-X-X-

Neville frowned as he looked over the two Daily Prophets on the kitchen table. Gran told him she had to leave for the Ministry early that morning but didn't tell him why. He sat down with a bowl of yogurt and blueberries as he looked over the front page. St. Mungo had been attacked again, and this time by Muggles. Muggles wielding guns. While there were no deaths, several people in the lobby were injured.

Neville stared at the headline and tried to devise a logical explanation for why… and how Muggles, of all people, could have found and attacked St. Mungo.

"Details are scarce as the Head of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Milicent Bonham, refused to speak with Daily Prophet reporters. Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, is demanding answers from anyone involved. Initial reports confirm that the Muggles in question were apprehended on-site and had similar symptoms as the previous two attacks.

The Daily Prophet, the British Ministry of Magic, St. Mungo, and the wider wizarding public need answers. If you know who the dubbed "Mad Potioneer" is, contact the Ministry of Magic, Auror Office."

Neville re-read the short article on the front page. Why would anyone attack St. Mungo? What was there to gain? He couldn't wrap his head around whatever was going on. It seemed to be chaos for chaos' sake.

He tried to put everything out of his mind as he laid out all his course books. When Gran asked him what O.W.L.s he would be trying for, he'd told the truth. With Harry and Ron's help, his Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge was probably one of the best in his grade, except for Harry and Hermione. Charms was a subject he loved, as it seemed to give him the greatest freedom to work with his magic. Gran loved Transfiguration, but it got complex the deeper into the subject a practitioner got.

Neville set a familiar set of flashcards on the table next to his course books. He would really miss his friend if he moved to France.

-X-X-X-X-

Neville stepped out of the fireplace as he slowly let out the breath he'd held. The bright entryway briefly blinded as he came out of the darkness of the Floo. Two figures stood a few feet from him. It took a moment for him to realize who it was. Taller, with a severe expression and a square jaw, Amelia Bones stood beside a shorter, dirty-blonde-haired Hufflepuff witch. Susan Bones had a pretty, rounded face and a brilliant white smile.

Seconds later, his Gran came through the Floo. Looking between her and Amelia Bones, he could tell that they exuded the power of office. They both expected to be obeyed.

"Madam Bones," Gran greeted with a slight bow.

"Agusta," Amelia answered, her tone frosty.

Neville wondered if something else was going on.

"Young man, did you bring something?"

Neville realized that he'd forgotten his part of the ritual. At Madam Bones' prompting, he walked over to her and Susan. "Thank you for inviting us," he greeted with a partial bow before presenting the bottle of wine from the cellar to their hostess. He turned to Susan. "For you, miss, I have an Everchanging Rose from Mistress Hawthane in Diagon Alley," he said as he passed a rose in a box to his date for the evening.

Susan's eyes lit up as she took the box. "Thank you, good wizard," she smirked. It was clear she hated the formalities as much as he did. The night might not be as bad as he expected.

Once the Ritual of Greeting finished, the tension between his Grandmother and Amelia seemed to lessen... fractionally. Neville watched them out of the corner of his eye.

"They are on opposite sides of a Hogwarts issue," Susan whispered.

That would explain things. Gran always wanted to get her way. "And on the same side as another," he guessed.

"Crouch."

Neville nodded. She rejected his bid for Minister for Magic because of the underhanded tactics, or at least, that was her official stance. The first thing he'd done when returning from Hogwarts was to tell his Gran the little he knew about the events of the Third Task and what came after.

"You danced fairly well at the Yule Ball," Susan said as the corner of her mouth twitched. "Are you going to abuse my poor toes tonight?"

"No," he snorted. Zoe had him so flustered that he hadn't been at his best during and after the memorable event.

"In all seriousness, this is going to suck," she sighed. Her comment drew the ire of both older witches. "What, it is! This is just a party for Crouch. The Tournament Champions should be there, but only Cedric said yes. Apparently, Harry is still in St. Mungos and... with what's going on there, well," she finished with a not-so-subtle glance at Neville.

"Department Head Crouch is likely to use the Summer Ball to reveal his bid for Minister for Magic," Madam Bones said softly. "However, we are attending for two reasons. The first is to understand the leanings of those in attendance. Many prominent families will be there. The second reason is that both of you need more experience. We feel this is a safe and moderated place to learn what is expected of you in the future. You will likely see both schoolmates and those who are not attending Hogwarts. Mainly Muggle-borns or those who do not support Hogwarts' policies.

You're both old enough to know that there are factions and divisions within the British Wizarding World. If things start going the way we both fear, this will be an excellent time to introduce yourselves as... ambassadors for a smooth transition."

Neville glanced at his Gran. Her face was unreadable. "What will be... required of us?" he asked slowly.

"Present yourself as an Heir of the Longbottom Family. Miss Bones will do the same as a direct inheritor of Madam Bones' reputation."

"So... what you both normally expect," Susan snorted. "Can we just get this over with?"

Neville glanced at his partner for the evening. He was utterly unused to her acting like this. Granted, he didn't have a lot of contact with Susan Bones or her friend Hannah Abbot except in a few classes.

They took the Floo to the Ministry Atrium as a group. He knew it would be a statement, but he wasn't sure what that statement was. Political maneuverings never interested him when his Gran talked about them.

The long, splendid hall, with gleaming dark wood floors and a peacock-blue ceiling, inlaid with glowing golden symbols that shifted and changed, always drew his breath away. The sheer scope of the underground chamber hidden below London was a work of powerful magic.

Many groups of witches and wizards of all ages arrived from marble fireplaces inset in the shiny dark wood walls. He spotted Draco and his family striding out of the green flames a few fireplaces ahead of him. Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode arrived with a knot of other old wizarding families.

The Slytherins and their families weren't the only familiar faces as his Gran led their party toward the Fountain of Magical Brethren. A large circular, two-tiered redwood stage covered the water. The smaller stage stopped at the base of the centaur's foot. On the second stage was a golden podium and three chairs.

"... need to get Cedric's story," he heard from a group as they passed. Gran and Madam Bones looked like they were headed for a table past the stage where several older witches and wizards stood.

Neville noticed the speaker's pinched face and bright green eyes. She scribbled something on a parchment that floated in front of her as she looked around.

"Reporters," Susan huffed.

Neville glanced at her. "Isn't it good that Cedric is the Champion?"

Susan remained quiet for a minute as they drew closer to the table. It took Neville a moment to realize that Dumbledore was there. A silver-haired wizard with a short, scraggly beard pointed at something on a clipboard. The Headmaster nodded and looked around. A moment later, he vanished.

"Why would the Headmaster leave?" Susan muttered. "His Champion is going to be here. He'll need to hand out the other awards."

Neville looked at her again.

"Things are already in motion," his Gran said as she stopped and turned to them. "This likely will take a few hours. Stay together. Drink nothing that isn't handed to you by a House-elf. Do not, for any reason, leave the other alone."

Neville nodded and looked at Madam Bones. Her expression was not a happy one. A brief flash of something passed over her features. She turned to her niece. "You may question, but do so respectfully. Do not think that I'm not aware of your bet or objectives. Mr. Longbottom. I ask you to indulge your partner for the night. It will do more good in the long run than you think. Please remember to keep... sensitive topics to yourself until I can speak with your friend."

He blinked at her, trying to process what she wasn't saying. Susan shifted next to him.

"I want to know if what Cedric said was true."

Less than thirty minutes later, the Summer Ball officially started. Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge welcomed everyone with a short speech and started the celebration with a small display of fireworks from his wand. Music played from the magical instruments on the stage, and food appeared on several tables.

Susan asked him to dance so they could speak privately. At least five generations of witches and wizards had already started dancing as soon as the music began. The ceremonial beginning was supposed to promote a lively start to the hottest part of the year. In December, the Winter Ball would start with speeches and drinks before moving to the livelier dancing and eating.

"Cedric said he and Harry made it to the end. He doesn't remember anything after that," Susan started as soon as they were moving slowly to the music.

"They did," he answered, pulling her back from a half-twirl. He wasn't sure why this would help Harry. Maybe Gran and Madam Bones wanted Susan to spread the truth? It was possible. However, he wasn't sure the other students would believe it.

As the night passed, Susan's questions about himself, Zoe, Harry, Hermione, and even Sirius seemed to never stop. At one point, he was ready to just leave and go home alone, but he knew his Gran would have his head, possibly literally.

Something that stood out to him was her interest in Sirius Black. She kept referring to him as Harry's godfather, but there was a strange look in her eye. Susan wanted to know everything he knew about the infamous black sheep of the Black Family.

Thankfully, Susan wasn't the only person who talked to him. Several students from Hogwarts spoke to him and even asked about Cedric and Harry. Most commiserated with Harry's loss, but several, like Seamus Finnegan and Theodore Nott, asked if Harry had touched the Cup at the same time.

Susan approached a few older and younger witches and wizards he didn't recognize. She was polite and inquisitive. Most engaged with her, but a few turned their noses up at Susan's attempts to connect with them in some way. It took a few times for it to happen to realize it didn't matter if Susan and he were from Hogwarts. The simple fact that they didn't go to their specific school or academy meant that he was lesser than them.

When he asked Susan, she gave him a pointed look and nodded to the dance floor. He once again danced with her and talked in semi-privacy.

"The Ministry controls Hogwarts. However, some groups want to have control over these smaller schools of witches and wizards. Auntie has trouble with this because now there are highly skilled students who will never have positions within the Ministry. The population of the Wizarding World is growing slowly, but it is still growing. By doing this and creating a rift between the magical talent, not just at Hogwarts but elsewhere... then only those the Ministry approves of can have any real power," she revealed over two slow dances.

Neville grunted. He just wanted to go home.