Subplot

20 - Neville

The Voodoo Basil was enjoying his touch and his soft humming, there was no doubt about it. Neville pried a branch of the purplish leaves from his left hand and gently tugged at the foot-high plant. Apparently the Voodoo Basil trusted him: It relaxed its delicate roots to make re-potting easier. Neville put some moist, black dirt into the new pot, relocated the plant and added more dirt until the plant was comfortable in its new home, all the while humming a tune the Basil liked.

Neville always hummed in the greenhouse. He had been sure since his first year at Hogwarts that his preference for Herbology was a reciprocal thing, that the plants liked him in return. Only last month he had found the courage to approach Professor Sprout and timidly ask her whether she thought the plants liked him because he hummed to them. She had given him one of her broad, good-natured smiles. "Didn't you know? Of course they like it - they practically wrap themselves around your finger if you hum to them. I thought you had noticed." Neville had shook his head because he had never been quite sure about it. After all, not all plants were as clingy as purple Voodoo Basil, he thought when he gave the enamoured plant one last tug as goodbye before turning to the next one.

Neville was in his best spirits. Today was not only the day, but it had also been a good day so far, and even better things were to come. Transfiguration had been tolerable today, as had Care of Magical Creatures. Even though he still felt apprehension towards the six weeks old Kneazle kittens their class was currently caring for, he had dared for the first time to hold one in his lap and feed it its milk today. The small, disproportioned creature had growled and scratched his hand slightly, but had finally drunk contentedly, a small success which had earned Neville some friendly praise from Hagrid. Herbology was enjoyable as always, he thought while he gently trimmed the Voodoo Basil's excess branches, humming so the plants could better tolerate the pain. Neville was sure that plants knew pain just as humans and animals - the only difference was that most plants could not protest. Carefully he pulled off the wilted leaves, then reassured the Basil that the discomforting treatment was over.

Later in the afternoon, he would have Defence Against the Dark Arts, and that was another class he had come to enjoy. After learning many things about Strengthening and Shielding during the last few months, Professor Varlerta had finally come back to using audio magic in her class. She was making them practice in pairs now in accordance to their wand cores. Neville enjoyed practicing with Lavender, not the least because it felt good to be looked up to for once: Audio magic had become a thing he felt relatively comfortable with, and he could actually teach Lavender tricks. He felt decidedly less stupid than he used to in all his time at Hogwarts, and that was certainly an improvement in his life.

Before Defence Against the Dark Arts, right after lunch, the Gryffindors had Double Potions with the Slytherins. Neville secretly grinned to himself. It felt so good not to have to go there! Usually that was his audio magic apprentice time, but today, Professor Varlerta had told him and Ginny, they should take the time off, should spend it sleeping or enjoying themselves, because their meeting would be postponed to the evening. Neville thought of it with excitement: Today was the day they had all been waiting for, Thursday, April the fourth, the day of the lunar eclipse. It was all Professor Varlerta seemed to be talking of these past two weeks. After consulting Professor Sinistra as well as various notes, she had come to the conclusion that the effect of the lunar eclipse at the stone circle would be truly astonishing. She believed it would enable her and her two apprentices to absorb an amount of magical power which so far was unparalleled. Just yesterday, she had bragged: "We will be magic giants for a few days, kids!" To Neville's ears, this sounded just like the sweetest music.

The Herbology lesson was nearing its end. Professor Sprout gave his re-potted Voodoo Basil plants an appreciating nod. "I wish I had thought of getting you for my personal apprentice before Varlerta snatched you away, Neville," she said kindly. Neville felt himself blush to his ears. Maybe he wasn't as useless as everybody had always believed, he thought as he went into the Great Hall to get his lunch.

At the Gryffindor table, a few seats away from him, Ginny sat with a few fourth year friends. She did not look up when Neville sat down and appeared to be listening to a conversation between her year-mates Rhonda Celps and Cassandra Clearwater. Still she seemed to be radiating with anticipation just like him, Neville thought: Ginny's face was faintly flushed, and she was indifferently shovelling down food as if she didn't notice what she was eating.

"Hi Ginny," Neville said. "Today is the day!"

Ginny looked his way very briefly and nodded in affirmation to his rather trivial statement. "Hi," she said before turning her attention back to Rhonda. Neville shrugged. She might ignore him in public most of the time, but he knew the two of them shared an experience that no other student at Hogwarts had part in. Tonight when they would take off their shoes to feel the warm, vibrating ground of the moonlit stone circle, she would be his best friend again.

After lunch break, Neville went into his empty dormitory. The enormity of his privilege made him almost giddy. Having two hours all to himself instead of suffering torture in Snape's classroom was nothing but grand. Knowing that a bit of self-discipline would even enhance his pleasure, he spent his first precious ten minutes cleaning Trevor's flat sleeping bowl and oiling the warts on his skin. His beloved toad glanced up at him with his wise, grateful eyes. "I'm sure you know everything there is to know in the world, Trevor," Neville lovingly told the amphibian. Here was another privilege: Being all alone in the dormitory meant he could actually talk to his toad without anybody listening. The other Gryffindors had made it quite clear to him when he was a frightened ickle firstie: Only dunderheads talked to their toads. Neville had complied, but now that he was on his own, he could for once do as he pleased.

Alone ... The whole day was nothing but a series of treats lined up like pearls on his grandmother's necklace. Having Gryffindor Tower to himself meant he could practice his flute without being overheard by anyone. Neville avoided practicing up here if he could, because he lacked confidence in his ability to make his playing enjoyable to anyone else but him. Now he didn't have to worry about annoying others, so he took the flute out of its profane plastic case. Like on most occasions, touching it to his lips meant happiness.

Neville played a few tunes from his memory. Two of them were from the "Teach Yourself to Play Flute"-book Varlerta had bought for him. Neville could decipher sheet music with some effort; once he knew a tune, he memorised it rather than staring at a piece of paper each time he played it. Most tunes in the book were simple and unattractive, because it was the beginner's volume, but these two Neville rather liked. Then he went on to play some of the magical Strengthening and Coaxing tunes Professor Varlerta had taught him. To the delight of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, he had found a little three-note trill that would make the pages of a book turn.

"Would really come in handy if you were playing several pages of sheet music," she had commented. "Sometimes it's impossible to turn the page without growing an extra hand. What a pity that these classic dudes are always such staff-obsessed nitpicks! Play a concerto and turn the page with a trill, and they will gripe about the trill not being in the notes. That's the attitude that put me off sheet music, as a matter of fact."

Neville had decided he did not need sheet music, either. From the magical tunes he found a seamless transition to the tunes in his head. He didn't find it easy yet to translate a note he heard with his inner ear into a movements of his fingers, but he knew he would get there some day. For now, making one of his tunes audible on the flute was a painstaking process, but at least he knew the tune by heart afterwards. To go from one piece to another was not quite as difficult; his fingers had gotten so accustomed to certain musical phrases that they seemed to play them by themselves. Sometimes Neville wasn't sure himself whether he was playing a fixed tune, improvising or practicing magic. Professor Varlerta had told him not to worry about that. To him, music and magic were almost the same thing, and he felt it unnecessary to make a clear distinction. Let the others think him mad - to him each spell had to sing before it could work, and if he played or hummed, he felt his magical power rise in him.

Neville knew that Ginny felt differently about these things: She wanted to be a good drummer on one hand and a good audio witch on the other, and while there was a grey area between the two skills, she certainly could tell them apart. Again, Varlerta had told him not to mind that; they were two different people, so where was the problem if music and magic functioned differently for both of them? Something she did worry about, however, was Neville's flute technique: Twice she had driven him to a Muggle flute teacher in a nearby town, because she said she didn't know much about playing the flute herself. If Neville was purely self-taught, Varlerta had said, he might get accustomed to some technical mistakes which he would have to unlearn if they were not corrected in time. True, the brittle old Muggle woman had found a number of things wrong with Neville's playing. Though he tried to heed her advice to a certain extent, he wasn't too sad when Professor Varlerta had told him that she did not have the time to drive him there on a regular basis. Instead, she had made his grandmother promise that Neville would take lessons over the summer. Neville had slight misgivings about that, but had agreed to give it a try.

After playing for a long, long time, Neville put the flute away and stretched his shoulders. The asymmetrical position of a flute player made him tense if he forgot to move around a bit every now and then. Tonight he must not be tense: Tonight he would play at the stone circle, he would dance with the silvery spirits of the circle and feel the warm earth beneath his naked feet, and he was determined to give his best in return. It wasn't any old full moon, he reminded himself, not even any total lunar eclipse, he reminded himself, but it was also the full moon between equinox and Easter, in Varlerta's opinion a night like no other. Neville took care to pack his bag for the night. He would need his flute, an extra jumper and extra socks; he also packed the battered old recorder, even though he hardly played it anymore. Neville checked the bag again. Tonight nothing must go wrong, and if he didn't manage to misplace his wand between then and now, they wouldn't have to go back to the castle because of them tonight, he thought grimly.

Defence Against the Dark Arts started with a meditation session. Professor Varlerta insisted that it was good for Strengthening, and even though Neville wasn't sure of its beneficial effect, he just liked to sit there in peace for a while, listening to himself and others breathe very calmly. Then Varlerta asked the Gryffindors to make their wands float by humming, something Neville found quite easy by now. He knew he wasn't supposed to concentrate on anyone's wand but his, yet at times he couldn't help stealing a glance around. Ron's wand floated neatly; so did Parvati's and Dean's. Seamus was having a few troubles, and so was, to everyone's surprise, Hermione. Their wands shook in mid-air or even dropped to floor now and then. Lavender and Harry seemed to be hopeless cases. Their wands wouldn't move from the floor at all. Varlerta kept telling everybody to keep their minds on their own wands and to give themselves time to learn the trick in their own time. Still, Neville had the impression that being worse than him at anything at all wasn't very motivating to any of his class mates. Sometimes he made his wand quiver and shake a bit just to make Lavender feel better, because when he looked at the girl sitting opposite of him, he could see that she was not having the best of times.

Because Lavender's wand contained the heartstring of a dragon just like his, Professor Varlerta had assigned her to him as practice partner. Ron worked with Parvati, Seamus with Dean and Harry with Hermione - the two 'Phoenixes', as Varlerta referred to them. As the teacher had told them last fall, the four students whose wands contained unicorn hair cores found Coaxing and audio magic relatively easy to use. All of them had learned to Strengthen both themselves and their practice partners and to shield them against simple curses. Just like Neville, they could sometimes be heard humming their magical tunes while walking down the hallways.

Harry and Hermione were, to say the least, not quite as successful. "It's in your wands' cores, don't worry about it," was of course Varlerta's standard comment. Maybe due to her lack of success, Hermione was quite obviously sick of that sentence. She had actually taken to mock-quote the teacher when the Gryffindors were safely in the Common Room. If somebody would drop a quill, misplace a book, turn into a canary, half-choke on some stolen food or realise that he had just written two rolls of parchment with a Wheeze Auto-Misspell Quill, Hermione would half-sing: "Oh, don't worry about it. We all have different talents and are all such wonderful people - just don't worry about it."

Even though Neville personally found Varlerta's standard sentence reassuring most of the time, he had to grin when he thought of Hermione's running gag. Lavender was meanwhile struggling to Strengthen herself against the Jelly Legs curse Neville was supposed to hurl at her in a minute; she didn't find it funny.

"Come on, laugh at me and my ineptitude, there's a nice guy, Neville. Just enjoy yourself a bit at my expense, I don't mind," she complained.

"I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing about Hermione," Neville whispered, taken aback by her sarcasm.

"That's not very nice, either," Lavender hissed, misunderstanding him completely. "You are turning into a smug brat."

Neville looked over his shoulder and saw Hermione wobble about the classroom. The trouble with these Phoenix people is that they are better attackers than defenders, Neville thought. Of course, Harry had survived several encounters with You-Know-Who, so he couldn't be that bad in defence. Neville shuddered. Then he remembered Lavender.

"You misunderstood me. I didn't mean to make fun of anybody." Lavender still glared at him. Did she really think he was smug?

"Let's see, Lavender." Maybe he could make up for his laughter by helping her? "If you hum, you have to hum with your whole body. You must learn to like the tune that you are humming, think that it's the nicest song you've ever heard. Concentrate on the music first, really put your heart into it, and then we can see about the Strengthening."

To his surprise, Lavender closed her eyes and tried.

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Around eight, Neville grabbed the bag he had prepared earlier in the afternoon. Then he went down to Professor Varlerta's building to meet her and Ginny for their nightly adventure. Again he felt privileged and special. He would partake in a genuine experiment, not retrace somebody else's steps by learning something that was second hand knowledge. If Professor Varlerta was right and tonight's results would really revolutionise audio magic, Strengthening and a number of other things, he, Neville, would always be able to say: 'I was there on that night of the first lunar eclipse experiment. I was one of the first to profit from the immense power source we discovered.' Of course, the outcome of tonight was by no means certain, but this might mean nothing more and nothing less than the sky being the limit. Five times so far the three of them had been to the stone circle at the full moon now, and each time they had been rewarded with a temporal increase of their magical powers. For tonight's lunar eclipse however, Professor Varlerta's main hope was not only be an enhancement of the full moon power absorption, but a prolongation: Maybe, she said, their enhanced powers would last them a week now, or even longer. She had not mentioned the word 'forever' as an option, but Neville was sure she shared his secret hope that even this might be the effect of tonight's experiment. This lunar eclipse, Neville daydreamed beyond hope, might change his life forever.

Down at Professor Varlerta's building, Ginny and the teacher were already loading Drifter's trunk with shaman drums, guitar, amplifier and a picnic basket which the house elves always prepared for their nightly outings. All three of them took their dose of the potion that would help them see themselves even when Drifter's invisibility booster was on. Neville's excitement increased. They were almost ready to go. He couldn't wait. When he got into the backseat of the Ensouled car - Ginny was occupying the passenger seat as always - it was already dark. Varlerta was dawdling with something, fetching this or that item out of her music lab and then going back again for her hay fever potion. Neville could hardly restrain himself from asking her to hurry, but thought of all the times she had been patient with him, so he managed to keep silent about it. He knew that the moon would not rise until around eight, and that the lunar eclipse would take place past midnight. There was plenty of time, but impatience still had a firm hold over Neville.

Finally Varlerta came out of her building for the last time, got into Drifter's front seat and popped Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon into the CD player. The car rose into the air and speeded through the darkening clouds. Neville breathed deeply, trying to relax, willing his heart to beat at its normal pace. This was ridiculous, he told himself - he couldn't go on like this all night, and the lunar eclipse was still hours away. Concentrating on the old Pink Floyd album helped. It did not sound very lunar yet, but listening to the music in the darkness of the flying car gave the songs a very three-dimensional quality. When Drifter finally descended towards the darkening moor site of the stone circle, Neville found he had attained an acceptable level of calmness. But just as the wheels touched the ground, he had the feeling as if someone had pierced his stomach with an oversized fishing hook and given it a good tuck. It's just the excitement, he told himself, but somehow he knew that was not all there was to it.

"Professor Varlerta, I think there's something wrong!" he blurted out when the witch in the driver's seat turned off the CD. Immediately, he regretted expressing his fears. He didn't want anything to be wrong; he just wanted to go to the stone circle and enjoy its effects. The teacher half-turned towards him; in the near-dark, he could only see her as a silhouette.

"What is wrong, Neville?" she asked calmly.

"I don't know," he answered. "Something doesn't feel right about this place, like - I don't know. Almost like something bad is about to happen."

Varlerta did not reply immediately. After a while she asked: "You feel that there's something wrong, but you have no idea what that something could be?"

Goodness, how he sounded silly again! Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? She was the teacher, she was in charge; she'd know best whether or not there was something wrong or even dangerous about the stone circle tonight, wouldn't she?

"I probably imagined it," Neville replied. He could hear his own voice quiver.

"Are you a seer, Neville?" Varlerta asked softly.

A seer? Neville Longbottom, a seer? That was impossible, heartstring of dragon in his wand or not. Very plainly Neville remembered Professor Trelawney's contempt, her subtly scathing comments about his utter lack of talent for her subject. "No, I'm not. I've never Seen anything in my life. I'm sorry, Professor Varlerta."

In the darkness, he heard Ginny shift in her seat, her discomfort audible - sometimes body language was not entirely a language for the eye, Neville thought. Varlerta impatiently tapped her wand against her teeth. "I don't like this, I don't like this at all," she murmured. More tapping ensued. Finally she slapped her wand on her thighs.

"See, Neville, don't think I'm not taking your warning seriously, because I am, perhaps more seriously than you take it yourself. However, I've waited for this lunar eclipse for months. The next won't be for ages, and neither will it be as good as this one, Astra says. I don't want to endanger the two of you, but I do want to check this out."

The soft clacking noise meant that Varlerta was opening Drifter's door; a slight draught hit Neville's face.

"Let's do it this way," Varlerta addressed the two of them. "You two will stay in the car. I'll go and see if everything is okay. If so, we proceed as planned. If not, I'll get back to the car and we get out of here ASAP. However, if anything happens to me, you two mustn't do anything stupid, but go for help. Old Drifter will take you back to Hogwarts." She jovially slapped the Ensouled car's steering wheel. "Ginny, you will slip into the driver's seat and get all ready for take-off, just in case."

The teacher climbed out of the car; Ginny moved over to the right until she sat behind the wheel. "Is this going to be dangerous?" she asked apprehensively. "Where do we go for help, anyway - I mean, just in case?"

Varlerta bent back into the car through the open door. "Let's see," she murmured. "You can't go to Dumbledore, because he's got to stay at Hogwarts to protect the castle. Same goes for Professor McGonagall. Can't go to Lupin either, because he's a werewolf tonight. You could go to Flitwick, but ..." She sounded unconvinced. "If it looks bad, better go and see Sirius about it. I suppose he knows how to handle trouble." She nodded in parting and was about to close the driver's door, but changed her mind in the last moment.

"Now, if it looks really bad, better go to Snape," she added as an afterthought, made a face and slammed the door.

Neville craned his neck to properly see in the dark behind the car's window. The full moon had not yet risen, but Professor Varlerta had lit up her wand like a torch. As far as he could see, she was proceeding towards the stone circle with great care. Let it be alright, he pleaded inwardly, let us just have a nice little dance with the transparent circle spirits later. Let's laugh about my stupid misgivings later in the music lab with a glass of hot Butterbeer in our hands after we have stocked up on magical power like never before.

A glimmer on the tall standing stones told Neville that Varlerta had reached the stone circle. In the front seat he could hear Ginny breathe heavily. When a blinding flash descended on the figure standing in the middle of the stone circle, both apprentices screamed. Terror crept up Neville's spine as he watched silvery, glow-in-the-dark cords appear out of nowhere and wrap themselves tightly around the teacher. Varlerta let out a scream that was cut short very suddenly: the cords had reached her mouth. She dropped to the ground like a felled tree. Ginny started to open Drifter's door, but slammed it shut again when close to a dozen hooded figures Apparated on the deserted moor site. Neville did not remember ever seeing a Death Eater in his life, but he recognised them as such nevertheless. Ginny did not need to start Drifter; the car revved up its engine without being told. Just as a couple of the Death Eaters started towards them, Drifter took to the air with an audacity surpassing any of its former stunts. Several of hooded figures shot some green and orange flashes after the fugitives, but missed them by a few feet. Without warning, the car plopped into its Invisibility Drive. Now all Neville could see for a while were a few distant stars. He suppressed the sobs rising in his throat. While they sped home towards the safety of Hogwarts, he wanted to talk to Ginny, but found that he had lost his voice out of sheer terror.