A Quiet Life

A Quiet Life

By Cindale

Chapter 4

Early the next morning, while it was still dark, a horrible sound woke Neville. He was a bit startled to realize he was in his study, but then remembered his houseguest. No, his roommate. He pulled open the study door and pounded on the door to the bathroom.

"Ginny? Are you all right?"

She retched again in answer. "Guess not," Neville muttered to himself. He tried the door, and to his surprise, it opened easily. "Ginny?" he said, feeling suddenly timid.

Her body convulsed as she leaned over the toilet. Neville hurried to stand behind her and gathered her long, wet hair in an attempt to keep it out of the way. As she continued to vomit he stood there, holding her hair, and feeling as if he should say something soothing, but having no idea what.

Finally she stopped and sat back on her knees. Neville let go of her hair, wet a washcloth, and handed it to her. "Thanks, Neville," she whispered.

"I don't think you should go to practice today."

"Nonsense," she said in a weak voice. "I just ate too much last night, and I'm a bit nervous. I can't miss the first day of practice."

"Don't they have a medi-wizard or witch on staff? Will you at least check with him?"

"No! I'll be fine." She sat back on her bum, crossed her legs in front of her, and put her face in her hands. "Could you get me a towel, Neville?"

"Are you going to be sick again?" he asked, crossing the bathroom to retrieve one.

"No," she said. When he turned back to her she had an odd expression, and as soon as he got within reach, she grabbed the towel and used it to cover her body, which Neville realized tardily was clad only in a bra and knickers. This made him realize his own state of undress; he slept only in his boxers, and it hadn't occurred to him to grab a dressing gown when he had heard Ginny's distress.

Neville swallowed and said, "I think I'll go get a shirt on."

"Me too." She gave him a weak smile, and he left her alone to get dressed, but tried to listen for any more sounds of her being sick.

He insisted she drink a cup of tea with a sprig of mint to ease her nausea. It seemed to help, and she actually ate a bit of toast before she left for Appleby.

As soon as Neville arrived at work he received the summons from the Minister of Magic. It took him by surprise, but he immediately realized he should have expected it. He was to be in his office for lunch at Noon, and the language did not allow for refusal. Neville thought it was interesting that the Minister had waited until Ginny was gone to Appleby, presumably so she couldn't interfere, but had sent for him on the first day of her absence, conveying the urgency of the meeting. It was also interesting that they were meeting in the Minister's office and not in his home, or on neutral ground, like a restaurant. Neville had always thought of Arthur Weasley as a quiet, gentle man, but the manner in which he was summoned was sufficient to cause him a significant amount of intimidation.

He kept adjusting his robes on the lift, wishing he had known about the meeting when he had dressed that morning. Thankfully, his robes didn't have any patches or stains, but they weren't his best, either.

At precisely 11:55 AM, Neville arrived at the Minister's office and was told to wait by his assistant, but was not offered a chair. The reception area was brightly lit, so Neville was unable to find a place he could remain inconspicuous and struggled not to fidget while he waited. Finally, after twenty minutes, he was told to enter, and Neville swallowed as he opened the heavy wooden door.

The office had dark carpet and was panelled with wood, but somehow still managed to be bright and cheerful. This was likely because of the sunlight streaming through the huge, uncovered windows which lined two walls. Neville suspected the windows were charmed so that no one could see through them from the outside; otherwise he could imagine the stories that would appear in the media about the visitors to the Minister's office.

They were served lamb chops, jacket potatoes, steamed vegetables and red wine at a small table for two in the Minister's huge office. The food was excellent, and the wine was even better. Mr. Weasley explained that there was a charm on the wine so that the effects of the alcohol would be suppressed; otherwise he would never drink it during a workday, of course.

Mr. Weasley chatted only about inconsequential things, and Neville found himself relaxing. He had expected to be interrogated about his relationship with Ginny, and in the back of his mind he kept anticipating it, but the questions never came.

When they had finished their lunch, Mr. Weasley waved his wand towards a small table and a tray sailed in their direction, stopping just short of Neville's face. Neville suddenly had the wild thought that perhaps the Minister had called him to his office to decapitate him, but dismissed it as ridiculous. If he wanted to kill him, why would he feed him first?

"Have you ever had cheesecake, Neville?" said Mr. Weasley, pulling a cloth from the tray and revealing two saucers with thin triangles of a yellow substance.

"No."

"I'm sure you'll like it - give it a try."

Neville took one of the plates and sampled the dessert. It was wonderful - creamy, smooth, and not too sweet. "It's delicious," he pronounced.

"It's even better with chocolate," said Mr. Weasley, sampling the other serving. After he had swallowed, he changed the subject. "Remus tells me you're making some advances with the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Well, Professor Snape's actually been brewing the potion," said Neville modestly. "I've just been working on the wolfsbane plant." Neville was quiet for a moment, wondering whether to continue with this topic, and finally decided the Minister had been pleasant so far, and would likely see his request as a plea for Remus and not Neville himself. "Actually, I'm not sure if you're aware of it, but I've been working on the wolfsbane plant on my own time and in my own flat. I had been working on it at the Research Centre, but when the Ministry found out, they forced me to stop. There's still a lot of prejudice against werewolves in the Ministry, Mr. Weasley."

The Minister fixed Neville with an unreadable, but piercing expression. "I am aware of that, Neville. To tell you the truth, I was hoping you would tell me exactly who forbade you from working on the wolfsbane plant. I would like for this administration to be free from all prejudices, and to do that, I need to find out who is perpetuating them."

Neville's mind raced as Mr. Weasley's eyes continued to bore into him. He certainly didn't want to give Ginny's father another reason to be angry with him, but he felt it would be disloyal to tell him who had stopped the wolfsbane project. He didn't particularly like Mr. Martin, he found him arrogant and intimidating, but he still didn't feel like betraying Mr. Martin's personal prejudices to someone who had the power to end the man's career. Finally, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you," he told the Minister, his body stiffening in anticipation of Mr. Weasley's reaction.

"You mean you don't know, or you won't tell me?"

Neville sighed; the temptation to lie was significant, but somehow he knew it wasn't a good idea. "I won't tell you." Neville looked Mr. Weasley straight in the eye, but he clenched his fists under the table in trepidation.

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Pity, I guess I'll have to find out for myself." The Minister's mouth was turned down in a frown, but his eyes showed an expression of satisfaction, as if Neville had given the right answer. "Well, I'd best get back to work, Neville. Thank you for coming today."

Neville stared at him incredulously; he wasn't angry about Neville's refusal to betray Mr. Martin, and he hadn't said a single word about Ginny the entire time! Mr. Weasley's eyes sparkled with amusement. "You were expecting me to interrogate you about your relationship with Ginny, weren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Neville admitted, surprised at his candour.

Mr. Weasley looked at him seriously. "No. I'm not going to insult Ginny's ability to make decisions. She's an adult, whatever my wife might think," he said with a slight grimace. "Honestly, Neville, I invited you here today to get to know you a bit - to find out what sort of man you are. I'm confident you won't do anything to intentionally hurt my daughter." The last sentence was said pleasantly enough, but Neville could feel the underlying threat.

Neville knew the interview was over, and he rose to go, thanking his host for lunch. Mr. Weasley rose, and to Neville's surprise, shook his hand firmly. "Give Molly a couple of weeks to cool down," said Mr. Weasley, "and then bring Ginny around for Sunday lunch."

"Thanks," Neville said, and escaped as quickly as he politely could from the strangest lunch he had ever had.

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

"Lavender's badgering me to go out with her Friday night, but I told her I had plans with you. We do have plans, don't we?" Neville had smiled into the phone and agreed to go to a movie with Dean Friday night. Ginny would be coming back then, but Neville thought it might actually be easier if he wasn't there. Ginny could go straight to bed or do whatever she wanted in the empty flat.

As Neville was penning Ginny a quick note Friday night before the movie, someone started banging on his front door. He hurried to open it. "Dean!" he said, surprised. "I was getting ready to Apparate to London. What are you doing here?"

"Why didn't you tell me? I felt like an idiot in front of Lavender."

Neville moved aside so Dean could enter, and said, "Why didn't I tell you what? You should remember that half of what Lavender says is rubbish."

"Ginny Weasley?" Dean said, looking around.

"She's not here."

"But she lives here, doesn't she?"

Neville sighed. "Yes, Dean, but it's not what you think."

"Harry's girlfriend, a woman with five brothers, the Minister's daughter... Are you crazy?"

"What did Lavender tell you?"

"That Ginny dumped Harry because she was sleeping with you and moved in with you the next day."

"Oh, Merlin!" Neville felt the blood drain from his face. "Where did she hear that?"

"Witch Weekly," said Dean. Neville suddenly felt sick. He let himself fall onto the sofa and put his head in his hands. He felt the sofa shift as Dean sat down on the other end. "How long have you been sleeping with her?"

"I haven't," Neville said into his hands. He raised his head slightly to look at Dean and said, "I've never slept with her at all. I've been sleeping in the study." He quickly told Dean the story of how he had acquired his new roommate, leaving out only the fact that Ginny had tried to seduce him that first night.

When he was finished, Dean stared at him for a long time. "Neville," he finally said slowly, as if he were trying to decide how to word what he was saying, "you're a really great person to be doing this, but aren't you getting a little short changed?"

"Nah," said Neville with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's not a big deal having her around. I'm actually enjoying sleeping in my study - I can just flop into bed when I'm finished for the night. She's only going to be here a couple of days a week, and she's paying part of the rent."

Dean shook his head firmly. "No," he said, "that's not what I mean." He paused and stared at the wall for a moment, and then turned back to Neville. "If everyone thinks you and Ginny are a couple, you won't be able to get a date with anyone else. Or if you try to, you'll be in serious danger of being pounded by the Weasley men."

"I don't really care about that," said Neville. "You know women are only interested in 'Neville Longbottom the War Hero'. They're not interested in 'Neville Longbottom the Boring Herbologist'. And I'm not willing to settle for that. If I happen to find a woman who's really interested in me," he said, feeling certain he wouldn't find one any time soon, "then I'll rethink the thing with Ginny. Okay?"

"Of course, how are you going to even meet a woman if you have a 'girlfriend'?" Dean asked, rolling his eyes. "That's the irony here."

"I'll just find a slag that doesn't care if I have a girlfriend," Neville countered with a wicked grin.

"Yes, and you like that kind of woman so much," Dean said in a sarcastic tone.

"What do I need a woman for? I've got you to take me to the movies." Neville batted his eyes at Dean, earning a disgusted glare. "Speaking of, aren't we going to be late?"

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

"Good morning," Ginny said in a formal tone as she entered the kitchen Saturday morning. Neville's bedroom door had been closed when he had got home the night before, and he had assumed she was asleep. Ginny's bedroom door, he corrected himself. At least for now. He hadn't been lying to Dean about being content in the study, but he still hoped it would be temporary.

Neville scrambled to his feet and served her a muffin and tea. Their conversation during breakfast was a bit stilted, mainly consisting of their plans for the weekend. Neville thought it seemed as though Ginny was trying to make excuses to be away from him, but found he didn't mind. He really needed to work on summarizing his research into his theories about the Cruciatus Curse.

After a couple of hours in the Research Centre caring for his plants, he spent the rest of the day comparing his own results regarding the Ginkgo biloba plant with studies he found on the internet. He was a bit startled when his stomach growled, and he looked up at the clock to see that he had completely missed lunchtime, and dinnertime was approaching.

Should he go out, order something in, or cook something? For some reason, he didn't feel like staying in, and he wondered if he should ask Ginny about her plans.

He finally decided to knock on the door to his bedroom - her bedroom where, if the opening and closing of doors was any indication, she had been for the last few hours. She opened the door and looked at him expectantly, her eyes red and puffy and her long red hair a tangled mess.

"I think I'm going to go out to get a bite to eat," he said awkwardly, wishing he hadn't bothered her since she had obviously been crying. "Want to come?"

"I don't think so, but thanks for asking." She started to turn around, but Neville felt compelled to speak again.

"I don't mean like a date, Ginny."

"I know," she said, looking into his eyes. "It's just that I went out to lunch with Hermione and ate way too much pasta. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm too heavy to lift off the ground on Monday. I really need to skip dinner."

"Okay," said Neville, and Ginny shut the door. Neville left the flat and began to walk to the pub, but found his feet instead taking him to the market. It would be better for him to cook a healthy meal, he reasoned; if he went to the pub, he would just end up ordering something laden with grease. It wouldn't be much trouble to grill some chicken breasts and steam some vegetables.

One hour later, he knocked on Ginny's door again. If possible, her eyes were even redder and puffier than before. "Did you enjoy ... wait ..." She sniffed the air. "What's that ... did you cook?"

Neville smiled at her confusion. "Yes. Just a light dinner - chicken and vegetables. There's plenty for you."

"I'm sorry you went to the trouble, Neville, but I told you - I'm skipping dinner," she said with a resolved nod of her head. She didn't close the door, however, and after a moment sniffed the air again. "That smells wonderful!"

"Too bad you're not hungry," Neville said with a shrug.

"I never said I wasn't hungry," said Ginny, brushing past Neville on her way to the kitchen. Neville grinned and followed her.

"This is delicious," Ginny said several minutes later. "What did you put on the chicken?"

"Just a bit of oregano, basil, and garlic."

"Grew it yourself, did you?"

"Not the chicken, no."

Ginny gave him an odd look, as if she were trying to glare at him, but was too amused.

"Tell me about your new job," Neville said, honestly curious.

As Ginny told him about the rigors of Quidditch drills, her eyes gradually brightened. It was plain that she loved playing Quidditch, despite her exhaustion, and that it took her mind off Harry. Neville listened carefully and tried to remember the details so he could bring up the topic and discuss it intelligently the next time she seemed despondent.

Neville made tea after they finished eating, and put a sprig of his special plant in his, as always.

"What's in your tea?"

He had wondered if Ginny would question him about it, but decided he couldn't hide it from her forever. "It's a special cross-breed I created myself. It seems to help me remember things better. I drink tea with it twice every day."

"Can I try it?"

Neville gave her a long look, gauging her trustworthiness. "I'm not really ready to share this with everyone yet, Ginny."

"Oh," she said, looking slightly disappointed. "That's okay."

"I think I can tell you about it, though, if you can keep it to yourself."

Now Ginny looked as though she might burst with curiosity. "What is it, Neville?"

"This plant is a cross between a mandrake and a ginkgo biloba plant. I think, in concentrated form, that it might be able to reverse the long-term effects of the Cruciatus Curse. I've been testing it on myself for about eighteen months."

Neville watched Ginny's face as that information sunk in. "Your parents ..." she said in a whisper.

"I hope so," he answered softly.

Ginny was silent for a while, staring into her teacup as if it held all wisdom. "Wait," she finally said, looking up at him, "you said you've been testing it on yourself. Surely that one time you were put under the Curse in the Department of Mysteries wouldn't have caused permanent damage, would it?"

"It didn't," Neville said. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "I was there the night my parents were tortured. I spent six months in St. Mungo's, and the doctors didn't think I would ever have any magical ability."

Ginny looked so horrified that Neville wished he hadn't told her. "They ... the Death Eaters ... a baby? Oh my God!"

She looked as though she was going to be sick, and Neville hurried to clip a sprig of mint and put it in her tea. "I don't remember any of it," he assured her. "When I think about it, it seems like it was a story about some other baby. But, yes, it is a bit sickening that anyone would be capable of that, isn't it? Such a person can't be completely human." Oddly, Neville was always slightly comforted by this chain of thought. He was glad that the person who had done this horrible thing was dead, and he was reassured that Bellatrix Lestrange really didn't deserve to live. His only concern was the knowledge that he was capable of murder, even if the person had been a monster.

"Obviously," he continued, "I did have magical ability, though it was always a bit less than normal children. But I also struggled with the other aspects of school. It always took me much longer than anyone else to read the textbooks, and I had trouble organizing my thoughts when writing papers. My memory was abysmal, too, unless it was something I loved, like Herbology or Defence. It's really amazing I managed to get any N.E.W.T.s at all."

Ginny seemed to recover a bit during his matter-of-fact explanation. "Is the plant helping you? You seem to be more confident than when we were in school. And your mind seems ... I don't know ... sharper."

"Yes. I've been giving myself reading, memory, and IQ tests that I found on the internet every three months. My scores are getting progressively higher, and I am also beginning to see some of my research pay off - the Wolfsbane Potion project, for instance. My magical ability doesn't seem to have improved at all, but that's okay. I'm hoping that if I couldn't give my parents back their magic, at least maybe I could bring them out of their minds into consciousness."

"Wow, Neville," Ginny said. "How exciting for you! When are you going to test the plant on your parents?"

"Well, first I have to get someone to concentrate it into a potion for me."

"Won't Snape do it?"

"He probably would. I haven't asked him yet."

"Why not? You're not still afraid of him, are you?"

"No," Neville said with a chuckle, but then he thought seriously about her question. "I don't know," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I think maybe I'm afraid of being wrong. Afraid of building my hopes up about my parents, only to have them dashed." He paused for a moment, turning over and over in his mind the same thoughts he had had almost every day for a year. "Even worse, what if it were to work for awhile, and they woke up, but then it quit working, and they sank back into insanity again? I don't think I could handle that."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, and then looked back into her now empty teacup. "I don't mean to make light of it," she said, speaking slowly, "but you'll never know if you don't try."

Neville sighed. "You're right, of course, but I'll have to work up the nerve."

They sat in silence for several moments, each lost in their own musings. Finally Ginny stood and stretched. "Well, I think I'm going to bed. I've got a long day of running errands tomorrow and I go back to Appleby tomorrow night." She crossed to where Neville still sat at the table, leaned over, and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Thanks for dinner," she said softly. She turned to leave, but paused and turned back just before she exited the kitchen. "Neville, talk to Snape," she said, before going to her room and closing the door.

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

"You should have told someone you were doing this, Longbottom," said Professor Snape, his eyes dancing over Neville's reports. "It would have served you right if you had poisoned yourself."

Neville shrugged but remained silent. He hadn't been so nervous in the presence of the Potions Master since he had been a fifteen-year-old student. Ginny's words had haunted Neville for several days, and finally he had given in and made an appointment with the Potions Master.

Neville tried not to think that the outcome of this meeting could determine the fate of his parents, and that if Snape refused to test his theory, all his work would have been in vain. My parents won't be any worse than they are now if this doesn't work, he told himself, and if Snape won't help me, I'll find someone who will.

"These are impressive results," Snape said finally, and Neville couldn't help a sigh of relief. The Potions Master looked up at him with a piercing gaze. "Are you sure they're not slanted by your - emotions?"

Neville thought about the question for a few moments; there was no point in answering Snape with anything other than a well thought out response. "I will admit that it has been difficult for me to stay emotionally detached from this research," he said, "but I know you remember my performance as a student in your class, Professor. Would you have ever thought me capable of organizing such a detailed report? And just the other day you seemed to be almost - impressed with my work on the aconite plant." Neville leaned back in his chair, satisfied with his presentation. He knew the report spoke for itself, and that Snape would have to agree that his mental capacity had been much improved.

Snape stared at the report, eyes unmoving, and Neville suspected that he was pretending to read the parchment while trying to decide what to do. After several long moments, in which Neville began to fear again that he would refuse, Snape said, "Bring me a plant tomorrow."