A Quiet Life

Author's note: Thanks to Swishandflick and Bryony Raven for the beta reads! This story IS finished, I just need to be more diligent about getting it beta read and posted.

A Quiet Life

By Cindale

Chapter 6

Neville had arrived a bit early for his interview with Professor Snape. He didn't want to appear flustered and hurried, and it gave him an excuse to chat briefly with Professor Sprout, who had been his favourite teacher when he had been in school.

Now, as he walked across the entrance hall, he couldn't help thinking how much smaller everything seemed to be. Neville wasn't a tall man, but he felt like he towered over the few students he passed, and he was certain the ceiling had been much higher when he had been eleven years old.

"Hello, Mr. Longbottom. What brings you to Hogwarts?" Headmaster McGonagall's stance was as severe as ever, but her eyes held a warmth that Neville didn't remember from his days as a student.

"I have a meeting with Professor Snape," he said, taking her outstretched hand and pumping it once. "It's good to see you, Professor." She nodded to him and continued to the Great Hall, presumably for dinner.

As he descended the steps to the dungeons, Neville realized it was McGonagall's sixth year as headmaster, and he marvelled that so many years had passed since Dumbledore's death. Not long after Neville's seventh year, the ancient headmaster had died peacefully in his sleep as if his work on earth was finished.

Neville knocked on the door to Snape's office and entered when bidden, trying to swallow his nervousness.

"I'm hungry," said Snape, "so I'll get right to the point." He held a small vial in front of his face with his thumb and forefinger. "I believe I may hold a cure for your parents in my hand," he said, and Neville had to make an extreme effort to contain his joy.

"What makes you say that?" he said, forcing his voice to remain steady.

The Potions Master's eyes narrowed in anger. "You asked me for a favour and now you have the gall to question me?"

"No," Neville rejoined without missing a beat. "Most scientists love to expound on their own brilliance. I assumed you'd be no exception."

Snape gazed at him for a moment, looking as if he wanted badly to smile but was controlling himself. "This is the essence of your plant. It is extremely concentrated. An adult dose is two drops, two times per day. Do not give anyone more than four drops per day. Do not give it to anyone who has not suffered damage from the Cruciatus Curse. I will need another plant to make more. Do you understand?"

Neville took the vial from his hand and peered at the amber-coloured liquid, going over the instructions in his mind. It seemed simple enough. "Yes." He looked the Potions Master in the eye and said, "Thank you, Professor Snape."

The professor only rolled his eyes and stalked out of his office. Neville carefully pocketed the precious vial and followed, his heart singing with joy.

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

Neville's happiness was short-lived, however. "I'm sorry - I don't make it my practice to entertain treatment ideas from family members," said Healer Maddox. Neville had Apparated to St. Mungo's as soon as he had passed through the gates of Hogwarts. The normally gentle Healer had been attending to Neville's parents since they had first been injured with the curse, and had been his Healer as well, though Neville didn't remember that. However, he apparently took Neville's suggestion as a challenge to his authority, and Neville was seeing a very different side to the man's personality.

"But Healer Maddox, they're my parents. Nothing you've tried has helped, and I've been working on this for almost two years."

"You've been working on it?" The Healer's tone was still condescending. "I know the challenges you faced in school, and it's remarkable that you were able to survive for seven years and then land an apprenticeship with a Herbology Master, but I can't believe you're capable ..."

"Professor Snape, the Potions Master, concentrated it into a potion for me. He believes it will work."

"You expect me to believe a Death Eater has been helping you with a cure for someone he helped put here?" asked the Healer, his voice becoming hard.

Neville's frustration had been steadily growing throughout the interview, but his anger flared at the insult to Snape. "Professor Snape risked his life to help our side during the war!" he spat, rising to his feet. "He's recognized by everyone as an expert potions-maker, not to mention the fact that he's been teaching children at Hogwarts for over twenty years." He glowered at the Healer for a few seconds, and then wrenched open the door of his office. "This isn't over," he said as he stalked out of the office. The irony that he had defended the man who had made his life so miserable as a child didn't strike Neville until later, and he would have laughed at himself if he hadn't been so depressed at the outcome of the interview.

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

The first Sunday in November brought the Appleby Arrows' first match of the season. Neville dressed in blue and joined the Weasleys in the best box in the stadium, where he was grateful to see they had saved him a seat in the front row. As he looked around him he got the impression of flaming water; most of the people in the very full box had red hair and blue jumpers. A head of messy black hair stood out among the red, and Neville was surprised when Harry greeted him as he was making his way to his seat.

"It's been too long since we've had a drink together, mate," Harry said quietly, further surprising Neville.

Neville felt unsure, but then he looked into Harry's eyes and saw his uncertainty reflected. "Yes," Neville said, forcing a smile. "Ring me up sometime, Harry."

Thankfully, he didn't have to sit with Harry during the game; he wasn't certain he could have made conversation with him for that long. He ended up between Fred and George and didn't have to talk at all since the twins were so obsessed with the match. Neville enjoyed the competition, but was extremely disappointed that he never got to see Ginny fly in the pale blue robes that suited her so well. When the Appleby Seeker grabbed the Snitch just ahead of Ballycastle's only an hour into the match, Neville shouted just as loudly as the rest of the box. He found himself propelled down the stairs with the gleeful crowd who stopped to wait outside the changing rooms.

When Ginny came out, still dressed in her robes, her eyes scanned the group, lit on someone to the right of Neville, and clouded a little. Then she walked straight up to Neville amid the congratulations and pats on the back from her family and threw her arms around him, almost knocking him over.

"We won!" she shouted in his face and embraced him again. Neville couldn't help smiling at her jubilation.

"Hey," said George, "I thought you didn't so this sort of thing in public."

Neville and Ginny both turned to look at him with their arms still wrapped around each other, and the pop of a magical flashbulb caused them both to jump. "Damn!" whispered Ginny. "I'll bet that'll be in the paper tomorrow."

"A picture with your family, Minister?" shouted the photographer. "Our readers would love to see a picture of the Minister in Appleby colours, supporting his daughter." Neville was impressed to see how Mr. Weasley pleasantly declined the photographer's request as he and Ginny escaped to the team's celebration.

Neville was extremely glad that Ginny didn't want to stay long at the party; he was chatted up by a couple of her team mates once they found out his name and he almost resorted to blathering on about his research to purposefully make them lose interest.

Ginny was right about their embrace being captured on the front cover of the Daily Prophet the next day. The caption read, "Minister's Daughter Dates Yet Another War Hero." Neville mentally braced himself before reading the article:

Ginevra Weasley, daughter of the Minister of Magic and reserve Chaser for the Appleby Arrows, apparently has a taste for war heroes. She is pictured here with her boyfriend, Neville Longbottom, with whom she has been living for several weeks. Longbottom is one of the remaining "Gryffindor Three" who defended Hogwarts castle during the final battle of the war.

Miss Weasley only recently had a bitter break up with Harry Potter, vanquisher of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, whom she had dated for over six years. One has to wonder if Miss Weasley will ever find a man who is famous enough for her.

"What does it say?" asked Ginny from across the kitchen table. "I'm afraid to look."

"It's horrible, as usual," said Neville. "Harry got Witch Weekly to retract their article," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe I could have a talk with the Prophet. What do you think?"

"I don't think they'd listen to you," Ginny said, looking at him seriously. "Harry's ... Harry's Harry Potter, for heaven's sake." She looked down at her tea quickly, but Neville saw the tears in her eyes.

"You wish you were still with him," Neville said, feeling an odd burning sensation in his chest.

"Yes," said Ginny, staring at her teacup as if trying to read the dregs. "But I shouldn't wish that. It's just that I was Harry's girlfriend for so long that I hardly know who I am without him." She looked up at Neville, her eyes begging him to understand. "At this point, I don't hold out any hope that he's ever going to come back to me, and I think I'll always love him. Now it's not so much about trying not to love him as it is trying to find out who I am on my own."

Neville nodded, hoping he was conveying empathy. He wanted to tell her that she was talented, intelligent, beautiful, and much more, but he was afraid it would sound either silly or insincere.

Ginny rose from her chair and carried her teacup to the sink. "I'd better get going - I'm meeting Hermione at Noon and I have a million things to do before then." She paused just before she left the kitchen and gave him a tiny smile. "Thanks, Neville."

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

Neville had intended to present all of his research to Healer Maddox after he had given himself a couple of days to calm down. If the Healer still wouldn't listen, Neville was considering sneaking into the hospital twice every day to give his parents the potion. He had already made a few discreet inquiries and found out that Harry had an invisibility cloak, though he wasn't sure he was in any position to ask Harry for a favour.

When he told Snape about his first interview with the Healer, however, Snape insisted on speaking with Maddox himself. Neville was surprised by Snape's passion for the project, but supposed the Potions Master didn't want to see his hard work discarded.

"I see that the subject has had almost daily tremors as a result of repeated exposure to the Cruciatus Curse," said Healer Maddox, his eyes flickering over a roll of parchment Snape had given him when he and Neville had entered the office. Healer Maddox had seemed surprised and a bit intimidated to see the Potions Master, and Neville sincerely hoped that would work to his advantage.

"Other remedies for the tremors are only temporary, and have unpleasant side effects, such as nausea," the Healer continued. "However, the subject has been ingesting this potion regularly for a fortnight and has had no tremors for eight days, and no side effects." He rolled up the parchment and handed it back to Snape. "This is impressive, but it doesn't address the long term effects of the potion. In addition, I could have you arrested for conducting such tests without approval from the Ministry, couldn't I?"

"No," said Snape.

"You expect me to believe the Ministry approved this research?" Healer Maddox asked with narrowed eyes.

"No. You can't have me arrested because I have only tested the potion on myself, which is not illegal."

Neville stared at Snape in shock for a moment before realizing he shouldn't be surprised. Voldemort would not have been kind to his followers, especially one who had turned against him during the first war. He wondered how long Snape had been hiding the tremors from his students, and how much the side effects from the remedies had contributed to his sour personality.

"You haven't addressed the question of long term effects," the Healer pointed out sharply.

"I've been ingesting the substance daily for over eighteen months," said Neville. "The only effects I have had are improved memory and cognitive skills." He held out another roll of parchment, which the Healer took from him and perused somewhat reluctantly.

"You prepared this report yourself?" Maddox asked in a sceptical tone.

"Yes," said Neville, looking the Healer straight in the eye.

"I have to admit I was sceptical at first," Snape nodded. "After all, Longbottom's performance in my class was abysmal, at best. However, I am forced to acknowledge that his mind has improved, and coupled with the results of my own testing, I am convinced that this substance will not harm the Longbottoms and could actually improve their condition."

Healer Maddox stared at the report for a long time, but his eyes weren't moving, and Neville assumed he was trying to decide what to do. Finally he said, "No, I can't allow you to experiment on my patients. You've only tested this on two individuals, both relatively healthy. There is no way to know how a subject in the Longbottoms' condition will react."

"How could they possibly be worse off than they are now?" Neville exclaimed, a bubble of anger filling his chest. He started to rise from his chair and was surprised to feel the Potions Master's restraining hand on his arm.

"After twenty-two years, I believe it is safe to say that traditional therapies are not effective in this case, Healer Maddox," said Snape in a calm voice, but Neville noticed his eyes were glittering with anger. "If you are not willing to try something different, then Neville will have no choice but to remove his parents from St. Mungo's."

"You can't do that!" said the Healer, giving Neville a pleading look. Neville struggled to keep his expression neutral, but he was shocked at what Snape had said. He hoped the Potions Master was only bluffing; he had no idea where he would take his parents if he was forced to move them.

"I assure you he can," said Snape, his mouth curling up into a partial smirk and his eyes glimmering with triumph. "As closest relative, Neville is his parents' legal guardian."

The Healer's face turned red with anger and his eyes went to the parchment again, as if he were buying time. Finally Snape rose from his seat and shot Neville a look that demanded he do the same. "Neville will contact his solicitor to draw up the papers. You will be hearing from him soon."

"No!" said Healer Maddox. "That will not be necessary. I will administer the potion." He glared at Snape, but the Potions Master only broadened his smirk slightly.

"Excellent," Snape said, and he turned and left the room.

The Healer turned his glare to Neville, but Neville stood his ground. "I appreciate this," Neville said quietly.

"It appears I have no choice," the Healer said in a bitter tone.

"You won't regret it," said Neville.

Maddox rolled his eyes and turned away, conveying his dismissal. Neville hurried out of the office to catch up with Snape, who was already halfway down the corridor.

"I don't know how to thank you," said Neville.

"Don't," Snape barked. "I felt slightly indebted to you for introducing me to the substance. Now I do not."

"I don't have a solicitor, you know."

Snape stopped and turned to him. "That hadn't even occurred to you, had it? You never realized you had the option to take them someplace else."

"Where would I have taken them?"

The Potions Master gave Neville a long, unreadable look. Finally he said, "You have a lot to learn, Longbottom. It was clear you had the advantage in this negotiation, you only needed to press it. Do not forget my little trick - you may find yourself needing it once more, and I have no intention of helping you again." With that he turned and disappeared down the corridor.

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

"I want to get home early tonight," Neville told Dean. "Ginny will be home later."

"Ginny who?" Dean asked in mock surprise, idly watching the barman chill glasses with his wand as they waited at the bar for Harry. "The Ginny who's only your roommate? The Ginny you're only pretending to date?" Dean leaned in closer to Neville, presumably to ensure only Neville could hear him. "The Ginny you've fallen hopelessly in love with?"

Neville jerked away from Dean in surprise. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"You've got it bad, mate." Neville shook his head in protest, but Dean ignored him. "Does she love you?"

"No," Neville said with a sigh of regret. "She still loves Harry, which is why I can't love her."

"Don't use the word 'can't', Neville. I assure you you're perfectly capable of loving her."

Neville was saved from this extremely uncomfortable conversation by the arrival of Harry, who was followed by ...

"Wotcher, Harry, Draco," said Dean as Neville groaned and shook his head at his drink. It was bad enough that he had agreed to meet Harry this evening; he didn't think he could deal with Malfoy as well. Then he remembered that he had talked Dean into coming with him to act as a conversation buffer, and couldn't help wondering if Harry had done the same thing.

The four men ordered drinks and then found a table. Dean chatted lightly with Harry while Neville wondered what topic he could raise that wouldn't make the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was. Finally he remembered something that he had been wondering about for weeks, but kept forgetting to ask.

"Malfoy," he said quietly, unwilling to disturb Dean and Harry's conversation and risk reminding Harry about Ginny's first night away from him, "did you ever find out who killed Thurston Nott?"

"No," said Malfoy with a blank expression that Neville presumed was specially tailored to reveal nothing. "Everyone who works at the research facility had an alibi that checked out, and the poison the killer used was very common. It could have been almost anyone."

Neville couldn't believe any of his co-workers could have killed anyone, but stranger things had happened. In his curiosity, he forgot to wonder why Malfoy was actually being civil to him. "But if it's not anyone at the research centre, why was the body there?"

"That's the thousand Galleon question, Longbottom. If we knew that, we would probably know who the killer was."

Neville opened his mouth to ask another question, but Dean said something that caught his attention.

"So, who's this mysterious woman you're going out with, Harry?" Dean asked.

"Who says there's a woman?" Harry said, looking down at his drink, but Neville saw the pink stain on his cheeks.

"You did," said Neville in a low voice, "when you broke it off with Ginny."

"You haven't told them, Harry?" asked Malfoy, looking at Harry with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"No, and I haven't even told Ron and Hermione, so keep your gob shut, Draco!"

Malfoy shook his head and rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner, but said nothing. Neville gaped at the two men sitting across from him. What was Harry hiding, and why did Malfoy know about it when Harry's closest friends didn't? He ignored the fact that Malfoy was also one of Harry's closest friends because that had never seemed quite right to him, despite the fact they had now been friends as long as they had been enemies.

"Okay, look," said Harry with a resigned expression, glancing at Dean before locking eyes with Neville. "I'm seeing someone, but I really want to keep it to myself for now. Draco here found out quite by accident, and he's been sworn to secrecy."

"I have?" Draco asked with a mock innocent expression. "Hmmm..." he said, rubbing his hands together as his expression became devious. "This is a very interesting situation ..."

"I know plenty of secrets about you - you prat," said Harry, glaring at Malfoy.

"Blackmail will get you everywhere," said Malfoy bitterly.

A disruption near the bar suddenly diverted their attention. Several people screamed and Neville could hear a deep male voice shouting, "NO OWLS! NO OWLS!"

The tiny owl in question successfully avoided capture and came to rest on Harry's shoulder, twittering madly.

"It's Pig," Harry said unnecessarily, going pale. They were all very familiar with Ron's overenthusiastic owl. He pulled a small scroll off the owl's leg, unrolled it, and showed it to Neville, Dean, and Malfoy. There were two words written on it: It's time!

"I've got to go," said Harry as he stood. He rolled the parchment and reattached it to Pig's leg. "Take this to Fred and George, Pig. Thanks." The owl took off and managed to make it back through the door without getting hit by the barman's broom.

"The baby?" asked Neville.

"Yes," Harry said, running a hand through his hair and turning to go.

"Wait, Harry," said Neville, and Harry turned back. "What about Ginny?"

"Fred and George are supposed to owl all the family," said Harry.

"Yes, but they may miss her in Appleby. I'll go home and wait for her."

"Okay. Thanks Neville." As he turned toward the bar he said, "I'd better placate the bartender before I go."

"I'll take care of that, Harry," said Malfoy. "Just go."

Harry nodded once at Malfoy and Disapparated, and Malfoy hurried over to the bar.

"That was actually going fairly well," said Dean, looking surprised.

"Yeah," said Neville. "I think Harry and I might actually be able to get along, not to mention the fact that I had a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy's not so bad any more," said Dean with a thoughtful expression. "I think he's mellowing in his old age. I can't remember the last time he called me a Mudblood."

Neville shrugged, having nothing to say to that. He took one last sip of his drink and said, "Well, I'd better go home and make sure Ginny hears about the baby."

"Owl me when the sprog gets here," called Dean as Neville hurried toward the door.

He Apparated directly to his living room and looked around anxiously. Ginny's bedroom door and the bathroom door were both shut, and he could hear water running, presumably the shower. He paced the living room anxiously until the water ceased, and then he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Ginny?"

She opened the door, clutching a towel around her. "Hi, Neville," she said. "What's up?"

Neville completely forgot what he needed to tell her. He was transfixed by a drop of water that ran down her cheek from her hair, dropped onto her shoulder, and then ran down her chest until it disappeared under her towel. He continued the journey of the drop in his mind, imagining it caressing her breast and continuing downward to pool in her navel. When enough drops had accumulated in her navel, they would spill over and continue downward until they touched ...

"Neville?" said Ginny, startling him out of his thoughts. He felt a blush creep over his face and one of Ginny's eyebrows went up. "I'll just get some clothes on," she said, stepping back and closing the door.

The click of the door seemed to jar Neville enough to remember. "Ginny, the baby's coming!"

"Now?" she called from inside the bathroom. "But Fred and George were supposed to let me know!"

"I was out having a drink with Harry when he got the owl from Ron," Neville explained.

"Yeah, okay - Ron was supposed to Floo our parents while Hermione rang hers, and then they were supposed to owl Harry just before leaving for St. Mungo's. Harry was supposed to send the owl on to Fred and George, who had a list of people to notify."

"Very organized."

"Well, it is Hermione," said Ginny. She emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and towelling her hair. "Wait a minute - you were having a drink with Harry?"

"Yeah - he rang me earlier. Dean and Malfoy were there, too."

"Really?" Ginny said, her eyes widening with surprise. "I'll bet that was interesting."

"It was actually going well before we got interrupted."

She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes. "I'll never understand how men can do that." She fished her wand out of her pocket, banished her towel to the bathroom, where it hung itself neatly on the rack, and cast a drying charm on her hair. "Let's go," she said, raising her wand to Apparate.

"Wait," said Neville, "you want me to go?" He looked into her eyes, searching for something he knew he would never see, but found only uncertainty.

"Unless you don't want to go," she said, her gaze boring into him as if looking for the answer to a question. He looked at his shoes, afraid of what his eyes might reveal.

"I-I just thought ... I thought I might be ... in the way."

"Nonsense," said Ginny. "Remember who my father is? We'll probably have a huge, private waiting room." She paused, and Neville looked at her; her eyes were still uncertain. "I want you to come, Neville," she in a voice that was almost a whisper.

That was enough for Neville. He would never dream of refusing to do anything Ginny wanted.

They Apparated together to a point just outside of St. Mungo's. As soon as they walked in the door, they were recognized by a young witch (presumably because of Ginny's red hair) and escorted to a room with a grumpy-looking witch and a bored-looking wizard stationed outside the door. The room was already full. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were deep in conversation with a couple Neville didn't know; judging from their age and clothing he guessed they were Hermione's parents. Harry was pacing the other end of the room, and Bill was deep in conversation with one of the twins.

The other twin hurried up to Neville and Ginny. Ginny asked, "How is she?" before he could speak.

"Seems to be doing okay so far. Ron's back there with her." George (or Fred?) smiled at him, but Neville was beginning to feel odd. Everyone in the room was family except him; even Harry was considered family, and he was also to be the baby's godfather. He felt like an outsider, as if he shouldn't be intruding on this family moment.

Neville followed Ginny to a small sofa and sat next to her. She flashed him a nervous smile and he was heartened. Ginny wanted him there, and that was all that mattered.

A few minutes later, Angelina and Alicia burst into the room with a tray full of tea, and Neville reckoned it was acceptable for him to be there after all since the twins' girlfriends weren't technically "family" either. The two woman handed tea all around, and the atmosphere in the room became more relaxed and celebratory.

"Better settle in, mates," Alicia said to Neville and Ginny. "We may be here awhile. Babies can take hours to get here."

"Quite right," said Mrs. Weasley. "Charlie took twenty-seven hours!"

"Really?" said Mrs. Granger. "You've got me beat. Hermione only took twenty-three."

Neville tried to tune out the women's discussion of childbirth, which got progressively more graphic. He sat beside Ginny in silence, trying desperately to think of a topic of conversation to drown out Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger. The twin he had thought was George put his arm around Angelina, and Neville asked, "How do you tell those two apart?"

"I don't know," Ginny said, turning toward Neville and screwing up her face in concentration. "Hmmm ... I think it may have something to do with their personalities. Fred is more outgoing, so his facial expression is generally slightly more open and friendly. George's expression is usually more guarded. Can you see it?"

Now that the twins were sitting with their girlfriends, Neville could easily tell them apart. He studied their faces, but he thought Fred actually looked more guarded than George. "Are you sure you don't have it backwards, Ginny?" Neville asked, still staring at the twins.

Ginny glanced over at them, and then rolled her eyes at Neville. "No," she said, "I've got it right, but they don't. They're sitting with each other's girlfriends." Neville smiled in triumph; he'd been right all along! "They're probably doing it for your benefit, and possibly the Grangers. They think it's funny to fool people into mixing them up. You should go over there and call them by their correct names."

She gave him a mischievous smile, but before he could follow her advice, Ron staggered into the room, his face as pale as death. Harry reached him first.

"What is it, mate? Is Hermione all right?"

"They made me leave," said Ron, an expression in his eyes that wasn't quite sane. "They said I was in the way."

"That's ridiculous!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Why, Arthur was there for ..."

"What else did they say, Ron?" said Mr. Weasley, interrupting his wife.

Ron turned his eyes toward his father and seemed to struggle to focus on him. "Something about distress - the baby - there were five of them in there, pointing their wands at her - she was screaming - oh god, they're hurting her!" Ron buried his face in his hands and sank to the floor.