Larger Problems

Larger Problems

A vermilion mushroom cloud rose from Neville's cauldron like the precursor to World War III, and everyone in the room groaned. "Neville, not again," Ron said loudly, as everyone gathered their robes up over their heads and tried to shield themselves from the choking fumes.

"You brainless clown; what have you done now?" Snape demanded, suddenly looming above the boy. Remedial Potions had been a disaster since Dumbledore instigated the class, and every day they seemed to reach a new low. Yesterday, Neville had managed to give half the students the Hippy Hippy Shakes when his Pulsating Potion bubbled over, and the day before that, Harry had accidentally spilled a few drops of Copious Curls Concoction down Ron's collar, giving him an indescribably hairy back.

By now, no one wanted to come to class, including the professor. Unfortunately, since the Headmaster was adamant, there was nothing they could do but suffer through them--and suffer they did.

Neville cowered before his most frightening teacher, unable to answer. Harry spoke up after a moment, realizing that, 'I-I-I-I-I-I,' and Neville's nervous tic weren't getting them anywhere. "Neville, calm down. Just tell us what happened. What did you put in there?"

Neville turned great, terrified eyes towards Harry. Most of the rest of the students had fled the room, but Ron and Harry stayed by the door, determined not to abandon their friend. "I--was trying to make a Canary Cream. You know; like Fred and George? They gave me the list of ingredients...I thought it would be really funny, and that you'd all think I was really clever for doing it..."

"You imbecile," Snape hissed, "You were supposed to be making a Shrinking Solution. I realize that you have never managed it on your own, but since you've had three years since your last attempt, I would have thought you'd at least--"

Neville gave a strange sort of hiccup, and turned into a canary.

Snape glared at him, continuing his tirade as though nothing had happened. "--improved an infinitesimal amount in that time! And how dare you turn into a bird while I'm lecturing you! Don't pretend you can pay attention and hear everything I'm saying, let alone remember it afterwards, you--"

"It's all right, Professor," Harry hurriedly interrupted. "He'll moult in a moment, and then he'll be right as rain."

Neville hiccupped again. He flew around the room a couple of times before alighting on the back of a chair, making a noise between a chirp and a wheeze. Then he abruptly seemed to turn green.

Everyone stared. "Professor Snape? I think something is seriously off with Neville..." Ron said slowly.

"Oh, blast," Snape groaned. "Get out of the room, both of you. Out! Run!" The chair suddenly collapsed as Neville's body expanded, but he didn't seem to be returning to his right form. His feathers were moulting, falling onto the floor, but the skin left behind was oddly scaly and pebbled. "Run!" Snape shouted once again, and they tore out through the door.

An eerie, somehow tinny roar came from the classroom behind them, echoing off the dungeon walls. They sped towards the stairs, Snape swearing the whole way. It was unquestionably the worst Remedial Potions class yet, and it was definitely going to be hard to top. How could Neville do worse than turning into that in the middle of the lesson?

As they reached the top of the stairs and rounded a corner, the trio ran into a sober-faced Dumbledore. "I have dire news," he announced without preamble. "Voldemort's forces are approaching Hogsmeade. He's found a way to get past the wards of the school. He is en route to kill Harry."

They gaped at him. A noise reminiscent of a large, rusty piece of metal being torn--a cross between a snarl and a screech--emanated from somewhere behind them. The floor shook as monstrous feet found their way down what must have been an all-too-small corridor.

"Headmaster," Severus informed him with great dignity, "I'm afraid we have...larger problems."

*******************************************

Within moments, the entire school had been emptied, as students poured out onto the grounds. Ron was yelling for Hermione, and ran off to find her. Harry made to do the same, but a strong hand gripping the back of his robes prevented him from doing so.

"I don't think so, Potter," Snape growled. "The Headmaster put you under my personal supervision while he deals with...Longbottom's issue, and you will bloody well stay where I can see you."

Harry glared at him. "But what about Hermione? She was in Arithmancy last class; couldn't you at least ask around and see if the other teachers have seen her?"

"What about Hermione, sir?" Snape corrected. "Couldn't you ask if the other teachers have seen her, sir?"

Harry ground his teeth. "Fine, sir. What about Hermione, sir? Could you please ask around, sir? And why are you such a sodding, sadistic git, sir?"

Snape looked frankly dangerous for a moment, bearing his teeth in a snarl, and Harry had one hand fisted around his wand, more than eager to go at it, but a shout interrupted their budding argument.

"I found her!" Ron was crying in relief. "She's all right."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms round him while Snape watched sourly from the sidelines. "I'm so glad you're safe!"

"Not exactly safe," Harry explained. "Voldemort is on his way to kill me, and Neville's turned into a Tyrannosaurus or something--we're not exactly certain what--and Dumbledore has Snape babysitting me."

"Oh, dear."

"Yeah, that's about the size of it."

"Potter!" Snape barked. "We need to get you somewhere safe before either of those bloody lunatics manages to get near you."

"But it's just Neville," Hermione protested. "I'm sure he wouldn't hurt anyone. Not on purpose, anyway."

The castle gave a mighty tremble, and one wall began to topple as the monster smashed through.

"But I don't know that that is Neville," Harry pointed out reasonably. "I mean; how much is instinct and how much is the wizard inside the beast?"

Snape was looking at Harry askew. "Potter, that's the most nearly intelligent thing you've ever said. Truly the end of the world draws nigh." He glanced back up at Neville. "It's an ancient creature--"

"Older than you, even?" Ron quipped.

Snape ignored him. "So its mind is probably nothing but a mass of urges and reflexes. Longbottom doesn't likely have much control over the situation by this point. Not that he ever does, mind you."

The enormous bulk of the lizard began turning their way, its lengthy tail swishing out behind it like a whip. It caught one unlucky student across the back of the head, and everyone flinched as they watched him or her fall to the ground.

"Oh, no," Harry breathed. "That's Ginny!" As the monster bent to sniff at the fallen girl, Harry ran round beside it, scooping a rock up to throw at its head. "Oi! Over here! Dinner!"

"Potter! Potter! You unutterable twit!" Snape rasped at him, trying to be quiet about it.

Slowly, the creature raised its head to gaze at Harry. It began lumbering towards him, and Ron slipped around behind it, hauling Ginny to safety.

All of a sudden, a masked woman appeared besides them. "Potter," she cackled, holding aloft a wand.

"How the hell did you get here?" Harry asked. "You can't Apparate onto Hogwarts' grounds--everyone knows that. It's in Hogwarts; a History, for pity's sake!"

"Oh, do shut up," the woman replied. "I'm not going to waste time explaining our nefarious plan and how we overcame the castle's defences. I'm simply going to get rid of you, with an Avada--"

A large, leathery foot came down, obscuring the Death Eater from view. Harry leapt out of the way, and he saw a bit of black cape sticking out from under the enormous foot. "Wow. Of all the ways I thought Bellatrix would bite it, that really wasn't one of them," he commented. Neville let out a deafening bellow. Snape tried to shield Harry with his body, but Harry shoved the man away. "What are you playing at?" the youth demanded irately.

"What am I playing at? What the hell are you playing at; getting the thing's attention like that, mocking Bellatrix, acting like--like a blasted idiot Gryffindor?"

Harry gave Severus a stern look. "I had to save Ginny. Ginny is my friend," he said. "Neville was about to kill her. Don't you care about that?"

"Of course I don't!" Snape immediately shot back. "I don't give a damn about your little playmates; the only one I care about is you!" Wincing, the man hunched his shoulders, looking as though there was nothing he'd like better than to take the words back.

They didn't appease Harry, in any case. "Oh, you care about me?" he repeated. "Funny, how you can bend me over and bugger me against any available surface at the drop of a hat, but it takes a bloody gigantic lizard tromping round on people, and a surprise battle with the Death Eaters to get you to admit that you might have feelings for me. What would it take to get you to say you loved me? An alien invasion while I was trapped in a burning building, simultaneously contracting a disease that left me minutes to live?"

"Not a chance," Snape replied evenly. "You'd also have to have several arrows protruding from your body, which had penetrated every major organ. And why is it not enough that I show it every day by saving you from Dark Lords and dinosaurs?"

Harry glared at him. "You're a real bastard, you know that?"

Snape smiled slightly. "And that's what you like about me." He turned round, looking for Neville and the others. "Where did everyone go?"

Harry pointed to a large silhouette lumbering about in the distance. "There he is! He's headed straight for Hogsmeade!"

*******************************************

Stan Shunpike hopped out of the Knight Bus, stretching hugely. "Be back in a mo," he told the driver. "'Cor, I don't half wish we had a loo on board."

Ernie just rolled his eyes. When Stan had a copy of The Prophet under his arm, he likely would stay budged up in there for at least an hour. "Yeah, sure," he said. "I'm going to take my dinner while you're in there. Maybe head over to the Three Broomsticks.

Stan whistled cheerfully. He wandered over to a store and tipped his hat to the owner, heading for the restroom. Once there, he was relieved to find an empty stall, quickly undoing his belt. He sat happily on the cool porcelain, flipping open his paper. "Harry Potter Gay as a French Horn. Nah, I'd never believe that. Has a thing for one of his teachers? Blimey! These stories are getting more far-fetched every day!"

Distant screams began to penetrate Stan's otherwise-occupied mind, and he paused a moment, listening. There was a series of mighty crashes.

"Oi! What's goin' on out there? What's all the fuss?" A bladder-voiding growl shook the room, rumbling the floor beneath Stan's feet. Abruptly, the stall door flew off its hinges. "What the--?" Stan gaped up at the huge, square head, its eyes glinting evilly. It sniffed at him gingerly, then took a step back. "AUUUGGH!" Stan screamed, trying to run. He tripped over his trousers, falling into the rubble. His last thought before blacking out was, At least Mum will be glad I was wearing clean pants.

***************************************

Harry and Snape dove, catching up with Ron and Hermione, who were still on foot. "Wish I'd thought of summoning my broom," Ron said as they landed.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked.

"We left her with Pomfrey," Ron told them. "She was pretty banged up, but she'll be all right."

"Where is the Headmaster?" Snape looked around apprehensively, trying to see past the fleeing, squawking mob, the fiery wreckage and, of course, the rampaging monster.

"He's got his hands full with Voldemort," Ron informed him, pointing to the two duelling adversaries. "He had to leave Neville to try to draw him away from the school." Just as Harry turned to look, he saw a light burst forth from Voldemort's wand, and Dumbledore toppled to the ground.

"Noooooo!" Harry cried, and Snape took a painful grip of his hair, holding him back.

The light drew the attention of more than just Harry's small group. The reptile made a wide turn, flattening buildings with his massive tail. One foot crunched down on the Knight Bus, and its debris clung to the fearsome claws. It moved towards the great wizards, rumbling in discontent. At this point, Voldemort was finally distracted enough by the clamour that he looked up. His eyes widened almost comically, and he screamed a curse, a red spray hitting the beast in the belly.

Poor Neville snarled in pain and made for the Dark Lord, stumbling round with the remains of the bus still stuck to his foot. Voldemort tried another curse, and then a hex.

Hermione was shaking her head. "Doesn't he see? It isn't working! It's only making Neville angry! His hide must be too thick for magic to penetrate. If he doesn't stop, he'll only--"

Raising his head, Neville gave a mighty roar, his small arms waving ineffectually. A blast of light ricocheted off of his chest, and he stomped towards Voldemort, his six-inch teeth bared and glistening.

"Oh, my God!" Ron cried. "He's going to--"

Neville lunged forward, and a high-pitched scream came from Voldemort, cut off when the massive jaws crunched down.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Hermione quavered, hiding her head against Ron's shoulder.

Two redheaded figures came running over. "Ron!" one yelled. "You're okay. Can't say I'm not a bit disappointed, but Mum'll be glad."

"Thanks, Fred." He scowled at his brothers. "What are you doing here?"

"We were checking out the competition," Fred told him.

"But thanks to that thing, there is no more competition," George finished gleefully. He was right. Zonko's, along with most of the rest of the village, was a smouldering ruin.

"This is all your fault, you know," Harry told them. "Neville was trying to make a Canary Cream to impress everyone, and some Shrinking Solution got into it, and this is what he turned into!"

"Really?" George looked touched. "Neville turned into a raging colossal freak of nature, just to be like us? They grow up so fast."

"Really fast," Ron agreed. "He got like that in less than a minute."

"Fantastic!" Fred crowed. "We have got to try that for ourselves. But never fear; we can turn him back."

The group watched as Neville snapped up Lucius Malfoy, worrying him like a dog with a bone. "It wouldn't hurt to let him have his fun, first," Severus pointed out in a rather satisfied voice.

"Severus," Harry said in a warning tone. "He could really hurt someone."

"Oh, all right," Severus sighed, put upon. "But don't come crawling to me if you can't eat all the Death Eaters on your own."

"There's only one I ever wanted to," Harry replied with a wicked smile.

"Yuck!" George cried putting his hands over Ron's ears. "You're corrupting our baby brother! Even more than we usually do!"

"Just deal with it, would you?" Harry asked, gesturing to Neville, who was merrily crashing through buildings and flattening everything in his path.

*****************************************

When Neville woke up in the hospital wing, he had a terrible case of indigestion. No one was certain whether they should tell him why, but eventually the incident had to be confessed, as Colin Creevy had pictures of the entire thing, including Neville's re-transformation. Once told, Neville was violently ill for a number of days before he could receive his hero's due; applause, fame, and of course, an Order of Merlin, First Class.

Snape and Harry received lesser medals, which might have peeved the Potions Master, if the Dark Mark had not abruptly disappeared from his arm, and if he and Potter had not spent every spare moment in his dungeon chambers in various carnal activities.

Hermione went on at length about the prophecy when she was told about it, insisting that she would have known from the beginning it was really Neville. Harry remarked rather nastily that Neville wasn't marked as Voldemort's equal, and the whole prophecy was a load of bollucks, but Hermione ignored him.

"Are you sure you don't mind the lack of lauding?" Snape asked him one day after a particularly vigorous bout of celebrating with Harry bent over Snape's desk. The press had completely abandoned their former golden boy, leaving him to his unexpected retirement and obscurity.

"Nah, not really," Harry assured him, crawling into Severus' lap, revelling in the afterglow. "I hated all the attention. And the stories they made up about me! Load of rubbish, most of them. Besides, Neville really is a good sort of bloke. He deserves it."

Snape closed his eyes, meditating upon the image of Rita Skeeter going through the boy's garbage bins, looking for fattening foods and used contraceptives, and letting her wildest ideas become the story. "Well, perhaps he does, at that. Besides, the lack of speculation on your private life really does make it easier to shag you whenever I please. And you know how I love ravishing you all over the school."

Harry gave him a cherubic smile. "Exactly. Plus, now that no one cares anymore, we can come out to the rest of the world as soon as I've graduated. And then I can move in with you." Severus gave a groan of protest, but Harry ignored him, choosing to concentrate on biting the man just beneath his ear. "For now," he said, "I like the idea of you ravishing me all over the school. We'll start with here in your chair. Then I want to go to your office," he added, skimming the tips of his fingers up and down the Potions Master's slim chest. "And then, we'll try the Quidditch pitch. And as soon as everyone else has gone to bed, I want to have a go at you in the Great Hall." He kissed Severus deeply, driving his tongue down the man's throat.

"Good grief," Snape lamented when Harry pulled away, green eyes flashing mischievously. "I know I said all over the school, but does it all have to be tonight?" Harry growled in assent. "Dear Merlin," the man sighed. "I think I've created a monster."