Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness, page 11
"It's all right," Luna soothed, "Ernie's fine. He's got...well, his entire year has skived out of lessons for the last two days to look after him. The Carrows wanted to have them all punished, but Professor Sprout was kind of amazing. She blocked them off from the common room and said if they lay one more finger on Ernie or anyone helping him, they'd have every past and present Hufflepuff to deal with personally." She tilted her head with a fascinated look. "They really do mean it about the loyalty, you know."
Neville thought of how much strength he had drawn from those resolute hazel eyes, and he gave a quiet, deep smile. "Never underestimate it, Luna. It's an incredible thing." He shifted again, wincing. "Is there anything...."
"Now that you're awake, we can use some better healing spells, and we still have some of that ointment of yours. If you want, we can step out a moment, and Parvati can do that for you." Ginny exchanged a meaningful glance with Lavender, who took hold of Colin's shoulder in the kind of grip Neville had usually seen mothers use to lead their small children past Honeydukes.
"It's okay," Neville said, "I mean, there's no point in being modest about taking my shirt off when I've been used as a wall hanging in front of the entire school."
"No," and now there was an odd tone to Ginny's voice that he recognized as meaning she was communicating something on the frequency only other girls could understand. Even Luna looked up as if receiving a private wireless signal, getting to her feet and scooping the flowers onto his nightstand. "We'll just go. You and Parvati need some alone time."
Colin's eyes widened, and Ginny gave a little huff and grabbed his other shoulder. "Oh, for goodness sakes, not even Harry could, you dirty-minded little...and believe me, I'm sure. Neville's still getting over being heroic." She exchanged another significant look with Lavender. "Nothing gets past that." The two girls steered a baffled and protesting Colin out of the dormitory with Luna close on their heels, and then the heavy door closed with a very solid click.
There was a moment of silence, then Parvati turned the covers back and climbed up onto the bed beside him, the familiar bowl of thick green ointment in one hand. Her dark eyes were soft as she looked at him, and she settled her free hand on his chest as lightly as a butterfly. "Does it hurt?"
Neville's mouth twisted in a wry smile. "Oh, a bit."
"Let me do what I can. Please." She pulled the covers off of him completely, and he realized for the first time that there was a layer of bandages wrapped around his torso from his shoulders to the waistband of his pajama trousers. "Can you turn over?"
He tried, but was surprised to find that the simple movement was beyond the limits of his strength. He gasped, "I'm sorry...."
"No." She set the bowl down and drew her wand. As she waved it over him, he felt an odd sense of lightness, as though flesh and bone had turned to air, and she turned him over as easily and lightly as a doll. Neville felt embarrassed by his own weakness, but she shook her head. "It's a miracle you're alive. Don't worry. You'll get your strength back quickly enough."
Another wave of her wand, and he felt cool air strike his skin as the bandages peeled away. He smiled bitterly. "You do that a lot more gently than Snape."
"I would hope so." There was a faint slurping sound as she dug some of the ointment from the bowl, and then he felt her begin to daub it on the raw wounds that criss-crossed his back, and he sighed in relief. The healing itched, but the burning, stinging, aching aftermath of the flogging had eased almost instantly. "Does that help?"
"Lots, thank you," Neville said gratefully.
Parvati worked in silence until his entire back had been coated in the mixture, the strong smell permeating the tower room. Then she waved her wand again, and the bandages folded over, their gentle pressure now soothing rather than arduous, and she settled him onto his back again. With another flick of her wand, the Featherlight Charm lifted, and Neville felt himself sink down into the mattress again. She leaned down and kissed him carefully on the forehead. "I'm so sorry."
Neville frowned, staring at her in complete confusion. "What on earth are you sorry for?"
She looked down, twisting the bowl in her hands and biting her lip. "Neville...I have to tell you something."
He raised an eyebrow curiously. "If it's that you were snogging Seamus while I was down, I'll forgive you, but I might have to punch him when I'm feeling up to it."
"No, I haven't been snogging anybody." She paused again, then her cheeks flushed, and when she looked up, her eyes were gleaming wetly. "Neville, I can't do this."
"Are you leaving the D.A.?"
"I mean us. It's just...I'm being weak, I know. Ginny's still in love with Harry, even though we don't even know if he's dead or alive, but that's just it, Neville. I'm not in love with you."
"I know." Neville was surprised by the words even as he said them, but he knew they were true. He'd never really thought Parvati loved him, nor, for that matter now that he thought about it, did he love her. He liked her, they were great friends, and the things they had done together were certainly wonderful, but that powerful connection, that something extra that he had seen form between some of his other friends was missing. She was a friend and a beautiful girl that he thoroughly enjoyed kissing, but nothing more. "You don't have to cry, Parvati. I like you plenty, but I'm not in love with you either."
"You don't understand." He felt entirely sure on that count, but he kept his mouth shut as she went on. "I could love you, and I don't want to. There's a lot more to you than I thought there was, and there's something about doing this, about leading the D.A....you're changing. You're turning into a real hero, and -" She broke off, looking away as if suddenly embarrassed. "--Oh, you'll realize it eventually, but you're not bad-looking now that you're not walking around with your head down biting your lip and cringing all the time."
Neville frowned at this, slightly offended. "I hope you don't think I'm all that repulsive if you've been snogging me for two weeks."
"Of course I don't! But I thought you were cute and sweet...you're becoming handsome. Never mind." She shook her head in a frustrated little gesture. "It's a girl difference, it doesn't really matter to you, actually. But there will be other girls, Neville, I want you to know I know that, and I'm okay with it."
"Thanks." He didn't know what else to say.
"I want you to know I'm okay with it, because there won't be any other boys for me, and I don't want you to think that I'm pining for you." Her tone was firm, but there was no sense of sacrifice, and a slow, dawning thought occurred to Neville as he thought of a distant Aunt he had once met at Christmas.
"Have you decided you fancy...." He paused, remembering what his Gran had called it. "That you like to stir your cauldron in the same direction?"
"What?!" She looked at him as though he had sprouted tentacles from his ears, then rolled her eyes. "No, Neville, I would have thought you noticed that I definitely like boys." Parvati gave an exasperated sigh, then her voice became serious again. "It was the second day you were up there. You hadn't moved, your back looked so awful...and Ernie there next to you...oh, Neville, it was just terrible to have to watch you both suffer like that."
Parvati shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. Neville started to reach a hand towards her to comfort her, then stopped, unsure if he was allowed to do that any more. Thankfully, she didn't seem to have noticed. "I was watching Susan - she's been in love with Ernie for ages - and what she was going through, and I realized that if I'd loved you, it would have been too much. Ginny's said the only way she can stand it is that she doesn't have to know. If I fell in love with any boy in this school right now, I could lose him tomorrow in the most horrible ways and have to watch it happen. I can't deal with that."
"So don't fall in love with me." Now he did put his hand on her thigh, and he was relieved that she made no move to swat it away. "We can still be friends and snog sometimes."
"We can still be friends." And now she did move his hand away. "But if we keep snogging, it's going to be too easy to...just trust me. We can still be friends, but that's all."
There was a long silence between them, then Neville nodded. "Okay."
She blinked. "Okay?"
"Yeah. I don't want you to be hurt."
"But just...okay?" Parvati was staring at him in what seemed like offense.
"Well, if we're still friends, and we've already agreed we don't love each other, what else do you want me to say?"
She gave him a long look that implied there were a great many things she wanted to say, but then tossed her head, setting the bowl back on the nightstand as she reached into her pocket. "Don't worry about it, Neville. It's just something we have to put up with when we don't 'stir our cauldron in our own direction.' But my Galleon's gone off. I have to get ready for the meeting tonight." She stood up, and Neville called after her.
"Parvati!"
She turned, her eyes unreadable. "Yes?"
"Tell Ginny and Luna I'm coming to the meeting." His voice was as strong as he could make it, and he seemed to have surprised her as much as he did himself with the steadiness of it.
"Neville, you can't even turn over on your own!"
"Then I'll have help. But I'm coming tonight." He locked eyes with her, willing her to see, to understand how much he needed to be back with all of them, to feel their strength, their determination, to know why he had given himself over to three days of torture and who knew how long before he was properly back on his feet. "Please, Parvati, I need to go. You said it yourself; it was hard for the people who watched, too. I want them to see they didn't break me, and I've got to know that they aren't broken either. This thing is just getting started. Tell Ginny. As a friend."
Parvati was silent for so long that he felt sure she must be deciding how to refuse him kindly, then at last she nodded solemnly. "As a friend."
She turned away, and as she opened the door and slipped out, leaving him alone, Neville wasn't sure whether her last words were meant for him to hear or not. "Gryffindor boys! Oh, thank goodness it's just as a friend."
OOO
"Speaking as the Gryffindor Lieutenant, your second in command, your friend...oh, hell, and Harry Potter's girlfriend, Ron's sister, and the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team if adding any of that helps, I think you're out of your mind to do this." Ginny glared at him disapprovingly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"I have to do it. I've already told you why. Now, are you going to help me?" Neville allowed the exasperation he was feeling to show freely in his voice, his own chin thrust out in a defiance that matched hers.
She sighed. "Yes, I'll help you, but only because I don't want to guess at what kind of stupid thing you'd do if I didn't. Michael and Terry are waiting out in the common room already. I didn't think I'd be able to talk you out of it."
He frowned. "Michael and Terry?"
"To carry you." Ginny gave him a truly filthy look. "Because if you think you're going to walk there, be my guest. I'd love to see you try."
Neville blinked, then thought of how Parvati had moved him so easily earlier that day. "Can't you use a Featherlight Charm?"
"Neville, how tall are you?"
He frowned, thinking about it a moment. "Honestly, I'm not sure exactly. I don't think Gran's measured me since I was about fourteen. Now...somewhere around six footish, I'd reckon."
"Six foot one." She announced crisply, and he stared at her.
"How the heck do you know that?"
Ginny shrugged. "Because you were about two inches shorter than Ron when you were slouching all the time, and that's how tall he is. But the point is, even if I did use a Featherlight, I'm five foot six if I'm standing perfectly straight and wearing decent heels. Just how would I be supposed to get you there? Drag you?" She motioned to the door. "Michael and Terry are the only guys we've got who are tall enough and aren't in Hufflepuff joined at the hip to Ernie."
Seeing her point, Neville nodded. "Then get them in here."
She gave him another long, reproachful look, then left with a final toss of her hair. He could hear her through the open door as she went down the stairs to the common room. "You can come up, boys. The Idiot in Chief is in the bed, meeting starts in half an hour. You're so brilliant, see if you can make him see reason."
Within a few moments, Michael Corner and Terry Boot entered the tower dormitory, and Neville smiled awkwardly at them. "I'm sorry you guys have to do this."
Michael shrugged. "No worries, mate. We all saw what happened to you, no one thinks you should be strolling down the halls yet. But we're not going to argue you. I mean, if you can stand up to beauty, brains, and the best Bat-Bogey Hex in the school, what hope would we have if we wanted to talk you out of it?" He motioned to the foot of the bed. "Is this one your trunk?"
Neville nodded, and Michael knelt, opening the lid of the large trunk and beginning to pull out a Hogwarts uniform. As he watched it pile up, from socks and tie to belt and vest, he realized that only on days when he had been late to class had he ever come close to the sudden understanding he had of how many pieces were involved in simply getting dressed. It seemed like a rather imposing undertaking, all things considered, but he didn't want to go looking like an invalid, and he was grateful that he hadn't needed to explain that to the two Ravenclaws.
Terry pulled back the covers and placed one hand beside his back, then frowned. "Neville, is this going to rip your back up worse? I don't mind helping, but I'm not going to exacerbate those injuries."
"No," he answered honestly, "Parvati put some stuff on it that's closed the actual wounds. It's really just that I'm stiff, sore, and weak as a Pygmy Puff right now. A day or two of food and rest, and I think I'll be ready to go back to Bagman, I'm serious."
"Fair enough." Terry slipped one long arm under his back and carefully pulled, the other hand braced against Neville's chest as he eased him to a sitting position. Below the newly healed surface, the deeply bruised muscles cried out, and Terry hesitated, seeing the color abruptly drain from his commander's face. "Are we still okay?"
"Did I mention sore?" Neville tried to summon a wry smile, and it seemed to satisfy the others.
Terry smiled back ruefully. "Yeah, you did, as a matter of fact. And I guess you were telling the truth." He looked up, seeing Michael had arrived at his side with the uniform bundled in his hands. "Let's just start with the shirt, these bandages will do well enough for an undershirt."
The two young men worked in a smoothly coordinated team, taking turns bracing him upright as they helped him slip his arms into the crisp white cotton. Neville was pleased to find that his strength was already beginning to return a little, though rather embarrassed that it was worth noting that he could raise his arms by himself. He glanced up at Michael. "You guys have a really good system. You done this before?"
They exchanged a look over his head, then Michael laughed. "Nah. Terry and me've just been best friends since first year. I think we can read each other's minds on just about anything by now."
"I'll remember to team you up more often," replied Neville.
Terry shook his head as he looped the crimson and gold tie around Neville's neck. "Not if it's anything too dangerous. I think I'd have lost my capacity for rational thought if it had been Mike on the wall."
"I didn't think that could happen to a Ravenclaw!" Neville gasped in mock horror, and they chuckled.
"Only in the most dire of circumstances," said Michael somberly.
"Speaking of dire circumstances," Neville lifted his arms again as they slipped the vest over his shoulders and tugged it down, "I had a lot of time to think up there, and it's been really bugging me. How did you hit Snape with that Stunner, Terry? It was dead dark."
"Automatic Aiming Charm." The reply came without the slightest hesitation. "Logically, Snape would be closer to the doors than anyone he had caught, since you were planning to put the words above the Headmaster's chair at the far end. So I figured it was safe to just take down the nearest person."
"What if you'd been wrong?"
"Then I'd have kept firing, cleared the darkness, and Ennervated whoever didn't have a sadistic streak and a Dark Mark."
Neville nodded. "I'm still mad at you for defying orders, but thanks for saving my life."
"Don't mention it."
Michael took hold of his legs and swung them off the edge of the bed, then knelt to peel the socks from his feet. "I'm glad the girls changed these," he noted, "Five days, half of that soaked in blood...." He made a face, and Terry swatted him on the back of the head.
"You're just thinking of your own socks." He gave Neville a look of protracted suffering. "The Ravenclaw dormitory will never have a Doxie problem. We get fumigated every night when Mike takes his shoes off."
"Keep it up, and I'll jinx your lips shut, Boot." Michael blushed.
"Note," Terry said archly, shaking out the black robes, "that he does not argue my essential point."
"Hey," Neville laughed, "that's the one reason I'm grateful Harry and Ron left. They'd leave their Quidditch bags lying around until it would've knocked out a Mountain Troll."
"Seriously, mate." Michael looked up from where he was tying the laces on Neville's shoes, and the sparkle in his eyes had vanished. "There was a pool of blood under you two. That was sick. Just sick. I can't believe Snape actually did something that...barbaric."
"Yeah, but it could have been fatal, and that I'm still here tells us something important," Neville pointed out, and they both stopped, tilted their heads at him curiously. "They won't kill. Not while we're still at school, anyway. Whatever they're willing to do, they'll stop just short of actually killing us. I think for all their screaming about 'Mudbloods', they know we're a dying breed. That pure blood is worth more to them in my veins than on the floor."
"Amycus," Terry's voice sounded haunted, "licked the whip when Filch was done. Those people are not rational, Neville." He paused, cinching the belt around Neville's waist and then leaning back. "Your hair looks like Harry's and you've got a good start on a beard, there. You got a comb in the trunk?"
