Thorfinn gets a letter from home, and Neville's first week of classes has some ups and downs
Hermione felt like she was walking on air as she trotted down the stairs of the girls side of Gryffindor tower. She felt like a million shiny golden galleons as her uniform skirt flounced around her knees and showed off the tops of her grey knit knee socks. It was her first time wearing a skirt, and though it was quite different and a bit cold around the ankles and shins, she found that she rather liked it. She would never have considered herself a tomboy before now, but that was only because she'd never heard the word until the night before when her new girlfriends had whispered it about her as she unpacked her clothes into her new wardrobe.
After the fifth pair of sturdy denims she folded away they had started giggling and gossiping, and unbeknownst to them she'd heard every word of their entire conversation. Someone with thinner skin might have had hurt feelings, but she knew exactly where her strengths and weaknesses lay, and gathering intel was one of her greatest gifts. As a leader she was also well aware that the value of external observations from unconsidered perspectives was often priceless. And what she had learned! That single conversation had been a veritable treasure trove, and she had secretly vowed to never worry about about something so trivial as 'respecting their privacy' for as long as they were roomed together.
There was no denying they'd had a bit of a kerfuffle on first meeting. She'd snuck up to their shared dorm and they'd started throwing around some pretty baseless accusations. They were eleven for Merlin's sake! There was no call for being suggestive, and she'd put a quick end to it politely but firmly. She'd had to let a bit of alpha out, but she felt she'd gotten her point across to the girls quite well. As soon as she'd flashed her eyes and growled Lavender had immediately apologized for calling her a slag, and after explaining that she had just been helping her twin brother get settled in she felt they were well on their way to understanding each other.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs she stopped short, surprised to see her brother sitting on the floor with a truculent expression on his face and his arms angrily crossed "Your bloody stairs put me on my arse!" He grumbled. She tilted her head, trying to make some sense of his statement "I thought I heard something happening down here, but I'm afraid you're going to have to walk me through that one" she quipped, not letting him pull her out of her great mood.
He stood and made for the stairwell "Observe" he said flatly. With most of his weight still balanced on his back foot on the floor, he lifted his front foot up and touched it down gingerly onto the surface of the first stair. The instant it touched the tread, the entire staircase up the girls' side of the tower flattened into a steep continuous slide. He reared back and the boards separated and folded themselves back up into stairs. This time, taking a bit of a running jump, he launched himself up past the first four steps and landed on the fifth. Again, as soon as he touched the tread it turned into a slide. This time he absolutely ate shit, falling to his arse and skidding all the way down onto the ground.
"That's hilarious, how many times have you done it since you found out what it does?" She asked, playfully poking him with the toe of her shoe, to which he gave her a two fingered salute from where he lay flat on his back on the ground. He frowned "It's not funny, it's a serious security inconsistency! How come you can come up to my dorm but I can't come up to yours? What if you needed my help!" He insisted, which gave her pause for a moment.
"I appreciate your concern Óffy, but I'm pretty sure whoever built this tower rightfully assumed that boys in general couldn't be trusted not to be grubby little perverts at the best of times" she snarked dryly, stepping over him and beginning to make her way towards the fireplace before stopping and coming back around. She reached down to help him to his feet and pulled him after her over to the sofa, glad there was no one else around yet. "Listen" she said quietly "There's something I need to tell you, and I need you to promise to at least try not to freak out and lose your mind over it" she urged, and he nodded earnestly.
She tried to keep the dumb dreamy smile off of her face but was fairly certain she had failed "I know it's only been just the one day we've spent together so far, and I know we're just kids, but I'm pretty sure Neville is my mate" she whispered, barely louder than an exhalation, trying to keep the excitement and joy out of her voice and again failing spectacularly. "Before you tell me I'm wrong, I've thought boys were fit before and I've had crushes! And Miriam gave me the bitches and the dogs talk. This doesn't feel like it's just some fleeting thing - I feel like the way dad sounds when he talks about my mum. Like I've met my other half!" She said in a rush of emotion.
To her enormous relief, her brother had a soft soppy smile on his face "I sort of figured as much after you spent the entire train ride sitting on the floor with him" he said puckishly, and her heart warmed in her chest at just how terribly fond she was of him. She pressed her forehead to his and just breathed, feeling their wolves commune in a way she knew he didn't pick up on quite as well as she did.
Her wolf and his were intrinsically twin spirits in a much more significant way than their human bodies and minds were, and she always felt closest to him as her brother when they both had their fur on. She wished more than anything that he could transform freely outside of the full moon the way she could. For all that she had given him her gift, she felt like she hadn't given him enough of herself. Surely if she had he'd be able to shift like she could?
She tried to put that thought out of her mind "Listen, I know it's a lot. I'm not asking you to keep secrets, just let me tell dad myself when we go home for the full moon on the 23rd. I'll tell him then and ask him for advice, okay? I promise" she begged.
"Yes alpha" he responded quietly but confidently, shocking her to her core.
"Harry, no! What are you saying?" She hissed, looking around frantically as if their father would pop up from behind the couch cushions and admonish her for gunning for his position. To her surprise her brother looked very serious, as if they were forging a solemn pact between them right then and there "I love dad, and when we're home in his territory he's the alpha - 100% no question. But we're here on our own now, and we're the only two wolves around. That makes you the leader and me the beta, and I'm always going to follow where you say we're going to go - 100% no question" he repeated, bringing tears to her eyes and making her nose sting.
She threw her arms around his neck and nearly hugged the life out of him "Thank you, beta!" she whispered reverently, and he nodded into her shoulder "You got it, sis"
Wiping her tears away, she couldn't help but laugh "Look at the two of us, revelation after revelation and we've barely started our first day of school!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She couldn't believe how long it took the rest of their year mates to come down to the common room, she'd almost certainly have left already if they hadn't all agreed the night before to wait for the prefect to lead them back down to the great hall in the morning for breakfast. She was regretting agreeing to it now. Her and Harry were the first down, and Percy was a close second. Gradually over the next half hour older students filtered down the stairs and out the portrait hole, not waiting on any wayward firsties. It seemed like the first years were the absolute last ones down, and she was practically chomping at the bit to get out of this room and out into the castle - she was hungry and Percy was rambling again, a hellish combination.
She had curbed her appetite for the first time ever the night before, only taking a small second plateful when she normally could've eaten three or more. She hadn't exactly wanted to stop eating when she did, everything had been delicious and her stomach had still felt empty when she'd put her silverware down. The girls around her had boggled when she'd reached for additional servings, making comments about wanting to keep their figures that left her confused and feeling a bit like a pig.
She knew she had impeccable table manners, Miriam had seen to that personally and what she hadn't covered Narcissa and Andromeda had more than made up for. She could eat with the Queen if she had to. What she didn't know was what exactly etiquette said was correct when one literally had double the caloric requirement of everyone else at the table. She felt practically half starved this morning, and she was determined to eat her fill at breakfast no matter how embarrassing it might be.
She didn't want to relay this relatively minor inconvenience to Harry, it seemed like just another thing that would worry him. But he had given her an incredible display of trust this morning, and she wanted to repay that by showing it the respect it deserved. So while they waited, she mumbled through a haphazard summary of why she was so hungry. He looked properly outraged, and for a moment she almost regretted saying anything. She hoped he didn't say anything to her dorm mates!
She was surprised when he called for the kitchen elf that they'd met the night before. The little creature popped onto the coffee table in front of them, bowing low and looking happy as a clam to see them again "Hello young sir and miss! How can Goosie be serving?"
Percy frowned on the sofa across from them "Harry, you're not supposed to bother the school elves while they're working" he said crossly, to which her brother summarily dismissed him "This is a private matter with kitchen staff about my sister's dietary needs" and Percy blinked in surprise but nodded and otherwise fucked off to the other side of the common room. She looked at her brother with fresh and worshipful eyes "That was incredible" she breathed, and he grinned slyly.
Turning back to the elf, Harry's face turned serious again "Hello Goosie, I'm sorry to bother you during the morning breakfast rush but we have a very important question about food" he said, and the little elf's eyebrows shot up and he snapped his fingers.
A moment later another much older elf appeared next to him, wrinkled and greying, but with bright and intelligent huge blue eyes. It bowed low, the hair growing out of it's ears brushing the ground, more flexible than either of them would have expected from such an ancient little thing "This be Nilliams, the head Kitchen elf. He is being in charge of every meal and snack and drink served in the castle. Nilliams, this young sir and miss is having food questions!" Goosie said gleefully, his voice squeaking out like a little clarinet.
Nilliams' eyebrows rose slowly "Food questions? Goosie be coming to the right elf indeed! How can Nilly be helping the little sir and miss?" His voice was lower and raspier than any other elf they'd ever heard, and slow as a turtle through molasses. They exchanged a brief glance, and Harry kindly encouraged her to talk with a sharp elbow to the gut.
She sighed "Nilliams…Nilly? My brother and I are a bit worried about being rude eating in the great hall with the other students. You see, we're werewolves and we burn a lot of energy so we get very hungry and have to eat a lot more than human children our age would need. We haven't exactly been around a lot of humans before, and we noticed last night at dinner that most everyone only ate one plate or maybe two. We'd usually eat at least two or three for every meal. We just wanted to make sure we wouldn't get in trouble for eating too much or make too much work for you sweet elves who work hard to feed everybody" she said, feeling as if she was rambling nonsensically and probably offending him down to his little toes.
She rubbed her temple "I'm sorry Nilly..iams. I'm just really hungry, I didn't eat enough at dinner last night because I got embarrassed. You can tell me off if we're getting ourselves worked up over nothing" Harry put a hand comfortingly on her leg, and she looked up to see the tiny old elf frowning angrily "Nilly is going to be having words with deputy headmistress. Her students should be knowings better than to be makings fun of how much others needs to be eatings! Little miss is always welcome to be eating exactly how much she is needings, whether that is being one plates or three. It is not making extra work for the kitchen elvesies, they is being happy to feed the students!"
He looked at her very seriously then "The kitchen elvesies is being very sad if they is finding out that any of their students be going hungry" he emphasized sternly. She nodded, thoroughly chastised, but also incredibly touched. She held out her hand, and he looked at it with awe and reached out his own to shake "Thank you very much for taking such good care of us Nilly, my brother and I will both make sure to always eat our fill of your delicious food" she promised. To her dismay her magic invoked itself around her in that instant, drawing attention from passing students that she had hoped to avoid.
She missed the wonder on the old elf's face and the brilliant smile on Goosie's, too busy was she trying desperately to disperse the spiraling ribbons of her magic by wafting them away like a fart cloud. She was embarrassed to see Neville standing a few feet away, watching her with stars in his eyes "What in Helga's green garden are you doing, Hermione?" He said in a thick morning voice, as if he'd been asleep until only moments ago. She looked around at the shimmery ropes of her magic that still hung in the air around her and sighed "Accidentally invoked my magic making a promise to Nilliams here" she said, pointing over her shoulder behind her to where the elves had been standing a moment ago.
She did a double take - they were gone! Those little scoundrels. She had to give it to them though, that was a laugh. She wasn't sure how yet, but she resolved to get Fred and George involved somehow. Not least of all because she was certain she'd overheard them once talking about finding the way to the kitchens.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They'd finally all made it to the great hall together as a proper little herd of firsties with plenty of time to spare for breakfast, despite Percy's determination to turn the simple walk from their tower down some stairs into a castle historical tour. He'd bucked hard under her firm encouragement to stick to strictly the path they needed, but overall she'd managed to reign in most of his worst impulses. She didn't know how professor McGonagall had chosen him as their prefect - even without having met any of the other fifth year Gryffindor boys she couldn't imagine a worse candidate for the job.
She noticed with some amusement as they made their way through the castle that there was someone following their little cluster of first year Gryffindors. Whoever it was had tried very hard to conceal their presence, and they were being extremely discrete - if she was a human she definitely wouldn't have been able to catch on to them. They had done something to smother their scent and heartbeat, but like at the train station she immediately clocked from the feather light footfalls that it must be a house elf. Initially she assumed it was a Hogwarts elf keeping an eye on her due to her conversation with Nilliams that morning. Taking in a deeper whiff she realized it carried the faintest traces of a familiar smell that tickled her nose deliciously.
Glancing at Neville and remembering that he had mentioned having a house elf, she sniffed again and confirmed that it was one that had been in close contact with him for a very long time. She was warmed by the sweet realization that his nanny elf must be watching over him and making sure he was alright being away from home for the first time, and she felt a rush of fondness for the little creature hidden nearby. Knowing it wouldn't be able to hear her, she made a silent promise not to interfere or point it out to him. She was charmed by its presence, and promptly ignored it.
Passing through the enormous doors of the great hall, Harry and Hermione saw that Draco and Ron were already at the Slytherin table and looked to be nearly done eating. Ron made direct eye contact with her and subtly tapped his ear lobe. She grinned and nodded, and then concentrated her hearing onto the section of table the two of them were at, and wasn't at all surprised when he started whispering under his breath a moment later. Her face fell when she heard what he had to say though
"Rowle jr made a huge fuss in the Slytherin common room last night and told the entire house that you're a werewolf. We couldn't respond there for fear of retaliation but we figured out a way to help control the narrative a bit. It should be coming any moment" he exhaled so softly that even their other cousin next to him didn't catch that he'd been talking to her. She nodded grimly, and relayed his message to her brother as soon as they were seated. They weren't sure what they were supposed to be waiting for, and in the meantime they were both a bit stumped over how to get messages back to their cousins if they couldn't hear across distances the same way the two of them could.
All in all they weren't kept waiting long. Only a few minutes later a fierce and mean looking bird that appeared more raptor than owl sailed in through the upper windows of the hall and made its way for the Slytherin table. Clutched in its talons was a steaming red envelope, hissing like it was about to explode. The very moment it dropped its missive in front of Rowle the letter unfolded itself and rose into the air before him, taking the shape of a furiously frowning mouth. It then proceeded to scream at the boy at a volume hitherto unheard by either of the two of them in their entire young lives so far.
"THORFINN ASMUNDSØNN ROWLE, HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT A TERRIBLE POSITION YOU'VE PUT ME IN YOU HATEFUL DISOBEDIENT LITTLE FOOL? I GAVE YOU ONE JOB, AND A SIMPLE ONE AT THAT. INTRODUCE YOURSELF TO THE MOST IMPORTANT CLIENT I'VE HAD IN YEARS AND BE NICE TO HER, HELP HER IF SHE NEEDS IT, SHOW HER AROUND THE CASTLE IF SHE GETS LOST. NOW I HEAR YOU NOT ONLY CALLED HER NAMES ON THE TRAIN BUT ARE SPREADING RUMORS AT SCHOOL AS WELL? YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, SHE'S AN ELEVEN YEAR OLD GIRL! WHAT IN SALAZAR'S NAME WERE YOU THINKING? DID IT EVEN OCCUR TO YOU THAT IT MIGHT MAKE THINGS DIFFICULT FOR ME AS HER OFFICIAL LEGAL COUNSEL TO HAVE MY OWN BLOODY SON PROPAGATING LIBEL AND POTENTIALLY BREAKING OUR CLIENT CONFIDENTIALITY? MY LAW FIRM WAS FOUNDED TO SERVE HER FAMILY! YOU WILL FORMALLY APOLOGIZE, YOU WILL RECANT YOUR STATEMENTS TO WHOEVER HEARD THEM, AND YOU WILL NOT REPEAT WHAT FOOLISH THINGS YOU HAVE ALREADY SAID. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?
Hermione dear I'm terribly sorry that my IDIOT SON has made such a mess of things. The meeting with your father yesterday went splendidly, and I hope you and your brother have a nice first day of school. If his apology isn't to your satisfaction please let me know and I will send a stronger incentive…
FIX THIS THORFINN OR SO HELP ME I WILL COME DOWN TO THE SCHOOL AND DO IT FOR YOU, AND YOU WILL NOT LIKE IT!"
The sheer volume of the letter in and of itself was like an explosion, and it rocketed through the hall from one end to the other, reverberating and echoing sharply. The force of it had actually blown the hair back from the boy's forehead, and when he stood up in the still silent hall he looked like he'd been standing in a wind tunnel. He glanced around before zeroing his gaze in on her and clearing his throat.
When he finally spoke his voice was a bit weak and meandering, as if he'd lost his sense of focus or perhaps some important inner ear bones from the impact of the blast "Miss- uhh Lady Hermione Black… I would like to- to formally apologize for the unkind names I called you yesterday on the train. They were- ahem, well they were quite uncalled for. I also shouldn't have let the whole house know that you're a- that you're- ahh-…know your secrets, I suppose. That was wrong I guess? I dunno what else he wants me to say, I still don't want you anywhere bloody near me, but that's erm… well I guess that's personal isn't it?"
McGonagall stood with a scowl on her face at his utterly unimpressive display "Mr Rowle five points from Slytherin for language" she said sternly. He stared at her in confused disbelief "Are you taking the piss?" He asked stupidly, and gasps and laughter rang out through the hall. This time Snape rose, looking positively fuming "Another five points from Slytherin for language and ten for disrespect. Detention with me in my office tonight, now sit down and be silent!" He barked, and the boy cowed under his head of house's burning glare.
The professor remained standing, a sneer sharp and ugly on his face. He looked pained as he turned to Hermione "As much as I hate to involve myself in student affairs, as his head of house he is unfortunately my responsibility. Lady Black, are you satisfied?" He asked wearily, to her utter confusion. She glanced around, looking at Draco first as he was most likely to know dumb pureblood traditions. He tilted his head side to side and shrugged uselessly, so whatever it was about was up to her. She mustered up her courage, she was a Gryffindor now after all "I'm sorry professor, I'm afraid I don't understand. Could you please clarify what you mean?"
A few startled murmurs broke out, and the man sighed heavily and rolled his eyes "He was commanded by the head of his family to give a formal apology and he has done so, no matter how poorly. You are in the unenviable position of now either accepting it and moving on from this public waste of time, or refusing and possibly igniting a blood feud between your families for untold generations yet to come. Ask either of your cousins whether it's been particularly fun for them" he said quite tartly, and like they were watching a tennis match, the attention of the hundreds of students watching shifted back to her.
"I accept!" She cried out instantly, but she couldn't bring herself not to let him know just what she thought "It was a terrible apology though, and I don't want anything to do with you either for the record, but for your father's sake I formally accept your apology" she added primly, to more gasps and laughter around the hall. "Very well then, that's all I want to hear about that" The professor said, nodding once and sitting back down with a swirl of his dark robes.
The hall took on a life of its own after that, a solid buzzing wall of noise as students whispered and murmured among themselves over their breakfast. So distracted was the student body that when the house heads came by to deliver class schedules they barely earned a sideways glance. Ravenclaws closest to the Slytherin table strained to hear the snakes discussing what had transpired in their common room the night before, and then eagerly passed on what little they had gleaned from their eavesdropping to the Hufflepuffs on the other side of them.
By the time the story had made its way to the Gryffindor table, it had transmogrified into the dramatic tale of Thorfinn Rowle having actively tried to kill her with a silver knife on the train ride, and her fighting him off and saving her own life.
She wasn't sure whether to be impressed or mortified.
As she sat and picked at the last bites of her first plate, her stomach rumbled hungrily for more. Harry was already halfway through his second plate across from her, he always went a bit head-down in the feeding trough in the mornings. She eyed the girls nearest her, and ignoring them and pushing away the thoughts of the things they'd said the night before, and remembering the promise she'd made to Nilliams, she served herself another full plate. Potatoes and eggs and sausages and bacon, she piled it on higher than she had for her first plate, as she didn't want to have to take a third.
She ate neatly and politely, with knife and fork and napkin on lap, blotting the corners of her mouth daintily as needed. Not a single belch or groan crossed her lips, and she didn't say a word while there was food in her mouth. As genteel as her manners were however, her volume of food intake still caught the attention of curious eyes and caused some brows to raise in her vicinity. Lavender did a double take "Gods be good Hermione, first at dinner and then again this morning! Where are you putting it all, you tiny thing? If I ate half that much I'd be as big as a house!" She said with a chuckle, patting her own tummy.
She hesitated, she could literally hear the rumors that were still spreading throughout the hall, and word of her eating her own weight at meal times would only fuel their fire. But she had made a promise to Nilly…Nilliams. She resolved to be as honest as she could, only holding back when it felt genuinely unsafe to do so "I know it probably makes me look like a glutton, but I have to eat a lot because I have a particularly high metabolism. I get really hungry and grumpy if I don't" she said as mildly and conversationally as possible, going so far as to raise her voice a little so the general vicinity around her could hear her response. She didn't want this to be something she had to go over again and again. Hopefully if she addressed it once it would die out and people would lose interest.
To her surprise the girl considered that and nodded with a smile "Lucky you! I bet you could eat all the deserts you want and not get fat," she said, gesturing conspiratorially over to a very big Slytherin girl "unlike some of us!" she added with a bit of a mean giggle. Hermione didn't really want to make fun of anyone else for their eating either, but she resolved that it was a problem for another day. As she finished her second plate she pushed it away, satisfied and happily stuffed. Her brother finally came up for air, smiling at her in approval and giving her a discrete thumbs up.
Next to him however Neville had only cleared half his plate, and had looked distinctly uncomfortable as he closely followed her conversation with Lavender. His fork abandoned on the table, he pressed his palm flat to his own tummy, which she could hear was still grumbling hungrily. Hesitantly he raised his eyes to meet hers and a blush rose to his cheeks "What's a metabolism… is it something that makes you fat or skinny?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper.
She raised her eyebrows and brought her hand to her chin, considering how to explain it to someone magical who might not know any science "It's a process that happens in our bodies where the foods we eat are broken down and the parts are redistributed, all the different foods have their own little jobs really. The meats have proteins that make your muscles stronger over time, starchy and sweet foods have carbohydrates that are used for immediate energy throughout the day, and fats like oil and butter have lipids that can be stored to be used as energy later if you're cold or starving. Everyone's body has a different metabolic rate, for example some people burn through their energy really fast, so you would say they have a high metabolism. Some people use their energy more… resourcefully! You might say they have a slower metabolism, but maybe they just use what they have more efficiently" She said, trying to gently hint that there was nothing to be ashamed of for being a bit pudgy.
She was glad to see that he wasn't looking quite so embarrassed anymore, and in fact seemed rather intrigued "Where did you learn all that? I've heard some of those words before but not ever described that way" he said, and she shrugged "It's muggle food science, they call it chemistry but we would probably call it potions or maybe alchemy I suppose, I'm not exactly sure. We had a muggleborn tutor who did her best to teach us from both perspectives at the same time. She taught us muggle maths because she said it's the basis for what we're going to need to know later in arithmancy, stuff like that"
He and a few of the other students in their vicinity all looked quite impressed, and as professor McGonagall came around handing out their class schedules she nodded at her in approval "Well said, Miss Greyback. Metabolism is in fact something we'll cover briefly in second year transfiguration when we start working on animals. Five points for teaching your house mates something new and a bit advanced" She said in her rich brogue, with a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
The professor eyed Neville and then Lavender thoughtfully, and addressed the entire group of first years clustered nearby "How much and how often we eat is the greater part of what makes us skinny or fat, but our body's natural metabolism also contributes in ways that can take us time to learn and understand about ourselves. You're all at a period in your lives where you'll start going through growth spurts sooner or later, and having a little extra meat on your bones can often help it come along more smoothly. That being said, it isn't necessarily something we can control! Some of you will get taller first and be skinny as can be for a good while afterwards, and some of you might gain a bit of weight first and be chubby for a while before your height catches up to you. No matter what your bodies look like, there's a person with feelings inside! Remember to be kind to each other" she said firmly, and marched off leaving them to contemplate that for themselves.
Harry looked over at Hermione and winked, and then said conversationally to Neville "I've heard that girls who are too skinny before they get their first teenage growth spurt will end up never having any curves at all as adults"
Hermione had to clamp her mouth shut to avoid laughing as Lavender scrambled to refill her plate.
Having a friend did a lot to mitigate the overwhelming difficulty Neville found himself having with nearly every aspect of learning to become a wizard. He couldn't help but get terribly turned around in the long twisting corridors and on the spiraling moving staircases, but Hermione and her brother had a sense of direction to rival a bloodhound. Thankfully whenever he was with one or both of them he was able to follow and not get so awfully lost as he otherwise would have if he had been on his own.
That was to say nothing of the fact that the very tower they lived in was password protected and it seemed to change entirely randomly every few days on the whim of a bloody portrait. He had managed to stay in groups with his housemates so far but was dreading ever having to come back to the tower by himself. His poor memory was already an embarrassment that his classmates were catching on to, he didn't need to flaunt it by being caught locked out.
His classes and his magic were an entirely different kettle of fish.
Transfiguration would most likely be incredibly difficult when they started actually working next week. Thankfully their first class had been easy because they hadn't actually had to do anything other than listen and nod while their head of house sternly lectured for over an hour on all of the absolute worst-case nightmare scenarios one could create via foolish or thoughtless transfiguration. Even if he hadn't scrambled to write down nearly every word she'd said, he was fairly certain it would have burned itself into his brain regardless. She'd explained in exhaustive and horrifying detail why one didn't ever eat anything that had been transfigured, even if it still looked like food. It had been enough to turn him off lunch entirely that day.
Charms had been the first and so far only class where they'd started doing practical wand work, and for the life of him he could barely even get his wand to make sparks. All of the anxiety and fear he might be a squib that had temporarily evaporated when the hat had reassured him during his sorting began rising up in his chest again like an awful acid burp. He had spent the entire class time trying to get the end of his wand to light with a lumos spell. Nearly everyone else had gotten it - all the first years in their entire cohort except for those big slow Slytherin boys Crabbe and Goyle.
Hermione had been the very first to do it, effortlessly making a brilliant luminous glow that cast the whole classroom in light that their professor had awarded fifteen whole points for. He had wanted to dissolve where he was sitting when she turned to him and spent the rest of the class period trying in vain to help him get it. She had been terribly confused, insisting that his pronunciation and wand movements were correct. What else did that leave that could possibly be the problem other than himself and his own innate lack of magic, he wondered privately.
Herbology had been like a breath of fresh air. He might not have been able to get wrist deep in dirt like he was craving, but just being outdoors and among plants he'd soon be able to care for had helped tremendously. The fear and anxiety had started to feel like a tangible thing he was physically holding and carrying with him, and being able to set it down and relax even slightly, even if only briefly, was enough for now. There had been plants he'd never even seen before in the greenhouse professor Sprout had taken them out to, and he was excited to learn more about them next week.
History was taught by a ghost who droned on so endlessly and boringly he'd fallen asleep almost immediately and had only woken up at the end of class when Hermione had shaken his shoulder and chided him gently. He had been thoroughly mortified until he realized the entire rest of their class was in the exact same position, snorting themselves awake only as the bell rang. He resigned himself to a dull year in that class not learning much unless he read about it himself from their textbook.
Defense against the dark arts had been oddly disappointing, professor Quirrell seemed like an even bigger coward than himself as he stuttered his way through lecturing about vampires and werewolves. Why would they have such a fearful little wretch of a man in arguably one of the most important positions in the school? Not to mention Hermione and Harry had both looked nauseous the entire class. He assumed it was because the part about werewolves must have been particularly upsetting, but it could feasibly have been that the smell of the 'vampire-repellent garlic' the professor had hung everywhere effected them more strongly than everyone else with their sensitive noses. After class however, they had told him that something in the room had actually smelled so powerfully and disturbingly of death and decay that they'd hardly noticed his offensive and incorrect lecture on werewolves. That alone had frightened him down to his bones, as his new friends were nothing if not alert and observant.
He could acknowledge with his rational mind that it generally needed to be night time to see the stars, but somehow it hadn't actually occurred to him that they'd be having their astronomy classes at night. The actual middle of the night. They had to report to the astronomy tower for their class that began at ten at night and went until one in the morning. Something about that felt very wrong to Neville, despite it making logical sense as necessary. He didn't want to outright say that it was because he was a good boy who went to bed early and needed all his sleep, because that sounded pathetic and like he was approximately five years old, but the nature of his objection was definitely somewhere along those lines. He adamantly ignored the way Harry and Hermione's eyes glowed under the stars, and the fact that they were fresh as cheery daisies the next morning. She had winked at him on the way to breakfast and whispered "Wolves are naturally nocturnal."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Potions changed things fundamentally, he couldn't have predicted how it would go if you'd given him a thousand years to guess. He had already been dreadfully nervous going in; open flames, boiling liquids, sharp objects, and his clumsy forgetful nature seemed like a terribly dangerous combination. He was not only worried about performing poorly, but also about the very serious risk of harming himself and his classmates. He'd heard enough in the common room from older students about the professor's terrible personality and about his attitude towards exploding cauldrons to be more than a little wary.
After waiting what felt like half an hour in the cold and damp dungeon classroom, the professor had dramatically swirled into the room and done little more than take roll and call them all idiots before putting the recipe for the potion they were supposed to make up on the board and leaving them to fully fend for themselves. The instructions weren't even complete, and they referenced multiple different sections from both of the class textbooks. He was royally fucked.
He'd panicked at the thought that he might have to do it all by himself if Hermione paired with her brother, but she'd glanced at Harry and gestured at one of her dorm mates and he'd nodded and gone to work with Sally Anne instead without complaint. Their relationship still seemed a bit strange to him at times, he didn't really understand it but whatever she said Harry usually obeyed. Maybe it was an older sibling thing? Whatever it was he could certainly understand the urge to do as she asked - she was smart and almost always knew what she was talking about, and he often got the funniest feeling that he wanted to please her and make her happy with him. It seemed like a reasonable instinct.
She'd quickly gotten them organized, having them both look up the extra text references which immediately came in handy because it was all tips and tricks and dos and don'ts for what they'd be making. They were making a cure for boils, and most of the advice was about how to prepare ingredients for the best efficacy. However, one of the biggest most important don'ts on the list was a warning for the second to last step not to add the porcupine quills until it had been taken off the heat or it would explode into horrible sludge that actually caused boils. He drew a star next to that point for emphasis, and they made eye contact and both nodded emphatically that they'd avoid it.
She started filling the cauldron with water and heating it to make the base, and sent him off with a neat list of what they needed to collect from the supply room. She claimed she could smell the overwhelming tangle of scents coming from in there the moment she had walked into the room and that she might actually pass out if she went inside. He thought that was certainly a fair trade off, and made his way over to get their ingredients. He noticed on his way across the room that Harry was doubled over leaning on the wall outside the supply room, breathing heavily through his mouth with a hand held up pinching his nose. He patted his shoulder in passing and carried on into the breach.
He carefully took some subtle breaths in through his nose once he was inside the little room and…it smelled a little more herby and medicinal, but he had to wonder just how powerful their noses must be if this amount of smells could leave them practically incapacitated. He shook his head and grabbed one of the little baskets on the table by the door and consulted his list. He went over to the jars and basins and measured out only a tiny bit more than what they needed of everything, just in case. He knew he was likely to drop or lose or destroy something and he didn't want to take any chances.
As he made his way out of the supply room he felt a claw-like hand grip his wrist tightly and he yelped. He frantically looked up and up and up to see the angry glare of their professor's gaze burning down at him "Would you care to tell me why exactly you have more than you need of every single ingredient, Mr Longbottom?" The man practically hissed at him, and he had never been so frightened in his life, not even when uncle Algie had him dangling by his ankles out of a high window. Not even when he dropped him and he thought he'd die before he bounced. As the professor pulled his arm up and back, he began to feel like a bug on a pinboard, and a sharp pain flared to life in his shoulder.
Suddenly Hermione was there with her small warm comforting hand on his other arm. Her eyes were glowing silver and she was audibly growling low in her chest "Excuse me professor Snape, but I asked Neville to collect some extra for me so I can familiarize myself with the ingredients since I can't go into the supply room to get them. My brother tried to go in there and as you can see is still suffering for his efforts. I had every intention of putting back what we didn't use, sir" she said as coldly as a blizzard in the arctic, and with a frankly terrifyingly intense stare directly into the man's eyes. It was challenging, and brash, and from everything he'd heard about the professor from other students was sure to go over horribly.
The man leaned down so that his eye level was at the same height as theirs, his beak-like nose impossibly large on closer inspection, his black eyed gaze never leaving hers "And risk contamination upon putting them back into their containers? I think not, Miss Greyback... Set aside what's left over when you're finished, and I'll make sure they're used the next time I have to brew a batch of boil cure" he snapped rather hawkishly, and he let go of Neville's wrist and stalked away without sparing them a second glance. His robes billowed darkly behind him.
As soon as the professor's back was turned and he was walking away from them, she reached for his wrist and clutched it to her chest, her eyes piercing his and her other hand reaching up to cup his cheek "Did he hurt you Nev? I'm sure I heard one of your bones do something funny" She whispered angrily through gritted teeth that were a bit too large for her mouth. He was taken aback at her vehement defense of him, and that she had just lied to their teacher for him. And that she was touching him. That was really the one that made his head spin. He felt like he needed to sit down, and he must have said as much because she was suddenly tenderly drawing him back to their work station and making sure he was balanced on his lab stool.
In his absence she had filled their cauldron and the plain water in the bottom was steadily simmering away. Though she seemed loath to move away from comforting him and making sure he would stay conscious where he was sitting, she eventually moved away to pull out the pages of their books that gave the best tricks and tips for cutting and preparing their ingredients, and got to work. Slowly coming back to himself, he picked up a knife and made to start chopping but she quickly grabbed it from him and handed him another different one. He realized the blade he was holding now was a much better shape and size for what he had been planning to cut.
When they finally started adding things to the water, he had a running mantra going through his head 'heat off THEN quills in, heat off THEN quills in' he kept reminding himself. Hermione put in the snake fangs she had crushed and then they let it cook for a while. He added the slugs they had stewed, and then they both double checked that the heat was turned off before putting their porcupine quills in together at the same time. After some stirring and a bit of wand waving, their potion was the exact cherry color the book had described and was a fine thin fluid viscosity.
Looking around, Neville couldn't believe how well they'd done in comparison to their classmates. Snape was openly praising Ron and Draco's work, and some of the other Slytherins looked like they'd done alright, but most of their house mates were struggling. Harry and Sally Anne were doing the best after themselves, but Dean and Seamus had concocted what looked like a thick grayish slime. He had no idea what they could have possibly done wrong for it to come out so terribly. Meanwhile, those two huge Slytherin boys that seemed to be bad at everything were also doing quite poorly. Their potion had seized in their cauldron like a ruined batch of chocolate, it was a dry pasty mess and was rapidly hardening like cement.
Realizing that Hermione had started to clean up, he rushed to help her. Everyone else on their side of the room was still working to try and salvage their own potions well enough to have something to turn in by the end of class. The two of them had already washed their tools, wiped their work bench down, bottled up their potion, and scoured out their cauldron. The professor had come around to observe them as they tidied, and he lifted their flagon up to his eye to get a closer look "The color and consistency are correct, and you've finished well ahead of the rest of the class. You've also clearly read the book because you're cleaning in the stages recommended for best hygienic brewing practices… Two points to Gryffindor" he grumbled reluctantly "…Each" he added after a heavy pause, with a facial expression that suggested it had cost him tremendously.
To his surprise after how mad she'd been at the man earlier, Hermione seemed absolutely thrilled by his faint praise "Thank you very much, professor!" She chirped cheerfully "Is there anything else we should be doing before class ends?" She asked to Neville's abject dismay. The professor was equally baffled if the slight furrow of his brow was any indication "Were you… able to glean anything of interest from your self-study of the ingredients?" He asked after an awkward pause, clearly grasping at straws and not having expected either of him to engage him further.
She bounced slightly in her seat next to him "Oh yes, sir! I had been expecting the snake fangs to be consistently from the same species and was very surprised that they were all different. And that some slugs were fresher and the others were almost ready to be thrown away, I wouldn't have thought you could work with ones that were that close to going foul. Even the quills had quite the range, some were much stiffer and others were more flexible. I think it might have had to do with how old the porcupine they were taken from was but I'm not a hundred percent sure" she said, beginning to ramble and not at all aware of the genuine surprise growing on their potions master's face.
He cleared his throat and held up a hand, telling her to "Hold on a moment" before stalking away back to the supply room. When he came back he had the large jars that the fangs slugs and quills had been stored in. He pulled a stool over to their bench to sit on across from them, and placed them in front of her with a shallow bowl in front of each.
He spooned out some of each ingredient into the bowls and regarded her with a single raised brow "Miss Greyback, these ingredients are supposed to be identical. The same species of snake, the same freshness of slug, the same suppleness of quill - which in actuality has to do with the amount of oil absorbed from the skin of the animal, but age was a fair guess. Can you please examine these and tell me what you observe with your… heightened senses" he said, lowering his voice to a whisper on the last words.
Her and Neville both boggled at the man, but she gamely nodded and pulled the bowl of snake fangs towards herself, her nostrils flaring as she took deep unsubtle whiffs. She reached out to the bowl, then glanced the professors way and raised her brows. He nodded his permission and she started picking them up, bringing them closer to her nose, and then arranging them into separate piles in the bowl "I don't know if I could say exactly what species they were, but I can easily tell you that there are some that came from snakes that had poison and some that didn't" she said definitively, and the professor's face became stormy "snake fangs as a potions reagent are supposed to be from simple nonvenomous garter snakes. None of them should have had venom" he said furiously.
She shrugged "I'm sorry, someone either lied about what they sold you or they didn't know any better themselves. Of the ones that don't have any poison… sorry, venom, there's still at least two different kinds of snakes, so even some of those must not be from garter snakes either. The venomous fangs are more interesting, nearly every one of them is different. I dunno what this one is but it smells… really potent. Like extra burn your mouth spicy. I'd bet a galleon it's still deadly to the touch" she said with a little shudder handing that one gingerly to the professor with it pinched carefully between forefinger and thumb.
He took it and cast what must have been an identifying spell. An orangey red light shone around the fang and displayed what looked like a relatively simple runic array, and the professor's brows both shot up sharply at the results "This fang is from a boomslang! They're some of the most deadly magical snakes in the world. Miss Greyback this could have killed a student, maybe even a classroom full of students depending on what potion they tried to use it for. I'll have to speak with not only the headmaster about changing our supplier, but with the auror department about dangerously mislabeled goods sold by that apothecary. I sincerely hope this was just one bad shipment and that it hasn't happened before, but people's incompetent and negligent natures never fail to astound me" he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.
Hesitantly she nodded "I'm just glad that helped, sir. I'd have never guessed there was something wrong, we read the recipe and all the different sections of the book and it never specified anywhere what type of snake the fangs were supposed to come from" she shrugged. Reaching for the bowl of slugs she sniffed deep again, her nose scrunching. Her eyes fluttered a bit almost as if she might pass out from the stench, he could smell them and they weren't pleasant, he could only imagine what they smelled like to her. She shuddered "Honestly sir a lot of these smell quite bad, just how fresh are they supposed to be?" She asked.
Again the professor frowned "The horned slugs are among some of the ingredients we get the most frequent shipments of. Ideally they should be less than a fortnight old, and certainly none of them should be anywhere near rotten or decomposing" he said with a disgusted sneer. She shook her head vehemently "I'm sorry sir, but you're really getting bent over a barrel by whoever you're buying from. These have all been dead at least three weeks to a month. That one's about to start dissolving by the end of the day. They're all well on their way to rancid. If they're supposed to be as fresh as you say, I wouldn't want to use any of them" she said covering her nose and mouth and pushing the bowl back towards him.
"This is appalling, I owe you my gratitude for discovering and helping me correct this serious matter Miss Greyback. To my eye they appear physically no different on the outside than the fresh slugs I've worked with in the past, but if what you say about their state of internal decomposition is true they could very well poison anyone who brews with them" she hemmed and hawed for a moment "I appreciate that professor, but a second opinion never hurts. Harry, come here a minute" she said, not raising her voice above the low conversational hush they'd been speaking in.
Her brother appeared at their table a moment later, eyebrows raised and glancing between the three of them and at the ingredients laid on on the table "What's up, chief?" He said with a cheeky little salute. She held out one of the slugs with a pair of tongs "Gimme a time of death, officer" she commanded, and without hesitation he leaned his nose in close as can be to the slug and whiffed deep. He immediately reared back, his face scrunching in disgust and looking like he was about to retch "Goddesses be good but that is rank! I dunno, if I had to guess maybe a month or more, why?" He asked, rubbing under his nose and groaning.
She eyed their professor and then the ingredients "Someone either wanted to poison a bunch of school kids, or is criminally slapdash with their packing and handling protocols. Either way, we got bad slugs and mixed up fangs" she glanced at the last ingredient she hadn't inspected yet "And if our coincidence is a pattern than probably old dried up quills as well"
Neville finally worked up his courage while she was talking and being a brilliant sniffer to take the tongs from her hand and check on a hunch he'd been sitting on since the slugs came out. Turning them over delicately onto their backs, his eyes widened and he smiled as he realized he was right.
He looked up to see all their eyes on him, and flushed but proudly announced "I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference by smell either sir, but I've seen these in my garden before. They all look the same from the top down, dead or alive or practically mummified, but if you roll them over and look at their bellies, the older and deader they are the more wrinkled they get there - see that's the one she said smelled the worst and it's got the wrinkliest belly by far! I think it's because that part is supposed to stay smooth while they're alive since it's a mucous membrane. They produce the slime they need to get around from their bellies and when they aren't alive anymore it dries up" he said, grinning. His friends were slack jawed and even the professor seemed impressed.
Hermione clutched his hand and squeezed it tightly "Neville you're a genius!" She proclaimed excitedly "of course a gardener would notice a detail like that, wait until professor Sprout hears what a natural herbologist you are!" She added, grinning from ear to ear. She glanced at her brother "Harry what are you still doing here, go finish helping Sally Anne clean up" she ordered exasperatedly, flicking him on the ear. He rolled his eyes at her and rubbed it, but nodded and trotted off tossing her the bird over his shoulder once he was outside of Snape's line of sight. Neville snorted hard to avoid giggling.
When they turned back to the professor, he was looking between the two of them assessingly with his mouth turned up ever so slightly at the corners "That was quite the insightful discovery, Mr Longbottom, one I may not have even made myself. A firm foundation in herbology is one of the greatest strengths a potions master can have under their belt. The two of you make quite the successful pair, you may remain brewing partners for all future projects. And Miss Greyback… please continue to carefully inspect your ingredients as you have done today and inform me again in if something seems unusual. Many students have passed through my classroom thinking me needlessly harsh, but safety in a potions lab must always be the utmost priority. For both of your contributions to the safety of the classroom and your fellow students, I hereby award you each… ten points for Gryffindor," he said quietly but sincerely, standing and beginning to gather his supplies.
They both grinned with pride and thanked him enthusiastically, and he nodded as he headed to his desk at the front of the classroom "Did any of that actually just happen or am I still asleep in the tower having the most vivid daydream of my life?" Neville asked a little breathlessly and Hermione barked out a laugh and pinched his arm. She got him in an extremely tender fat part of his upper arm and he nearly yowled like an alley cat "Well?" She asked with a mischievous grin, and he couldn't help but smile back at her despite the radiating sting of the pinch. What a scamp!
Gods but it was good to have a friend.