Becoming Neville

The rest of Neville's day hadn't gotten any better. Harry had been too restless to sit still long enough to play any games, and too irritated to want to talk. Neville finally managed to beg off from Harry's company and go to work in the greenhouse. He had stayed up there until dinnertime, doing little more than worrying at the hole in his trousers until his entire knee could poke through it. Then he started in on the other knee.

Neither Snape nor Remus had appeared for dinner, and Neville and Harry had eaten a bowl of Cauldron Noodles in stony silence. By the end of the meal, Neville was so miserable he went to bed - by himself. Harry had not tried to come with him, and Neville wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.

When he woke the next morning, he had made up his mind. If Harry wanted to be a brat, that was his problem. Neville was heartily sick of having to deal with The Boy Who Pouted.

Unfortunately, when he went downstairs for breakfast, Harry was already in the kitchen, mashing his Witchabix with a spoon. He didn't say anything to Neville, and Neville didn't say anything to him. They just sat scowling at their breakfast, and Neville wondered how much trouble he'd get into if he ran away again, this time by himself.

The door opened, and both boys looked up, eager to see Remus. But it was Snape who entered, gingerly slinking into the room without his usual menacing bluster. He looked rather like Gran after one of her late nights drinking blood martinis and playing Canasta with her cronies. He crept toward the tea kettle and pulled out his wand, preparing to cast a heating spell on it, and Neville called out, "It's already hot, sir."

Snape flinched at his voice and turned to stare at them as if he hadn't known they were there. He straightened a bit. "You gentlemen are up awfully early, aren't you?"

"It's half past ten, Professor."

Snape grunted and seemed to deflate a bit at that. He turned back to the tea kettle and poured himself a large cup, which he held in both hands to keep from spilling as he moved carefully to sit at the table.

Harry moved as far away from Snape as he could, scraping his chair along the floor and prompting the professor to scowl.

"Must you make so much noise, Potter?"

Jumping in before Harry could say something they would probably all very much regret, Neville asked, "Are you all right, Professor? You seem unwell."

"I am fine, Longbottom," Snape growled, as if Neville had accused him of smelling bad. "It's the beds in this place. Bloody uncomfortable."

"Sorry, sir." Neville could feel Harry glaring at him, but he felt like he ought to be polite to Snape. It still seemed like the professor had helped him yesterday, and he just couldn't believe the whole Death Eater thing.

Snape scowled and looked down his long nose at their breakfast bowls. "Don't you people have anything more substantial to eat around here than Witchabix and Cauldron Noodles?"

"Gran says fiber is good for you."

"You are not a rodent, Longbottom. You need more than that for a balanced diet."

While Neville was used to being scolded by the potions master, it was not usually on a topic so parental in nature. Snape seemed less and less like a Death Eater with each passing moment. Neville glanced at Harry to see what he thought about the whole thing. Typically, however, Harry was scowling at his Witchabix.

They sat in awkward silence, each of them focusing on their breakfasts and avoiding each other, when the door opened again.

"Remus!" Harry shouted, with the first hint of happiness Neville had heard from him since the previous morning.

Remus winced and raised a hand to rub at his temple. He looked even worse than Snape. "Good morning, Harry," he rasped, mustering up a weak smile. He staggered to the table and eased himself into a chair.

"Longbottom, get him some tea," Snape ordered. Neville hopped out of his chair and headed for the kettle as Snape continued, "You need to eat something, Lupin."

Remus grunted and reached for the box of Witchabix, fishing out a biscuit and nibbling on a corner of it. Neville returned with the tea and set it in front of Remus.

"Thank you, Neville," Remus said.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I'm shocked that the three of you haven't starved to death in this house."

Harry glared at him. "Why should you care?" he spat.

"Indeed, why should I?" Snape retorted. "Two fewer Gryffindors at Hogwarts next term can only be an improvement."

Harry turned to Remus. "Why is he still here?"

"None of us was in very good shape last night, Harry," Remus explained, dipping his biscuit in his teacup. "Severus was kind enough to stay and watch over us."

"We don't need his help!" Harry fumed. He scowled at Snape. "This isn't Hogwarts. It's our house, and you're not welcome here!"

"Stop it, Harry," warned Remus.

But Harry would not be deterred. "You shouldn't be sticking your big, ugly nose --."

"Harry!" Remus barked, furious. "SHUT UP!"

Neville's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe Remus had just yelled at Harry. Neither, apparently, could Harry. He sat rigidly in his chair, his mouth opening and closing. Neville could tell he was working himself up to an explosion. After all, he'd witnessed plenty of fights between Harry and Ron.

"Now," Remus said, his voice lower but no less firm. "Apologize to Professor Snape."

"What?!" Harry gasped. "No way!"

"You've insulted a professor. And my guest."

"I'm not apologizing!"

"Then go to your room!"

Harry froze, completely shocked. It took him several moments to find his voice. "You-you can't say that. If Sirius were here, he'd --."

"Sirius is dead, Harry," Remus said quietly. "And I'm the one who's here."

Harry flinched, as if Remus's words had literally made a physical impact. All the fight went out of him, and his face crumbled. Without a word, he got to his feet and fled the room, slamming the kitchen door as hard as he could in a final defiant statement.

Remus winced at the noise and raised both hands to his head. "I'd kill for a hangover potion."

Neville realized he'd been holding his breath, and he let the air out of his lungs with a whoosh. He glanced over at Snape, who was staring into his teacup, a line between his eyebrows. His silence surprised Neville. He'd never seen the potions master speechless before.

No one spoke at all for a long time. Snape sipped at his tea, Remus nibbled at his biscuit, and Neville watched his Witchabix slowly dissolve.

At last Snape set his teacup down. "Well. It would appear you've got your day cut out for you, Lupin. I'll leave you to it, then."

Remus looked up at him as he stood to leave. "Severus, thank you for yesterday. For everything."

Snape made a curt nod. "I'll see you at the next Order meeting." His black eyes shot to Neville. "Longbottom, I'll let you know what I hear from Dr. Chatterjee."

"Thank you, Professor," Neville squeaked.

Snape glanced back and forth between the two of them. "Good day, then, gentlemen." He drew his robe around him and left, with less noise but as much theatricality as Harry had.

Remus tilted his head at Neville. "Dr. Chatterjee?"

"Professor Snape said she could give me a second opinion on my parents."

"Ah." Remus returned to his Witchabix biscuit.

"Remus." Neville hesitated. He didn't know who to trust right now, or what to believe. But Remus had always been honest with him. He licked his lips. "Harry says Professor Snape is a --." He lowered his voice. "A Death Eater."

Remus frowned, much as he had at Harry earlier, and Neville couldn't bear his disapproval. "Professor Snape is not a Death Eater."

"Harry says Professor Dumbledore says he's a spy for our side. But...." He didn't know what to add, other than that he was hopelessly confused, which was his normal state, so he hoped Remus could figure that out without him having to say it.

Remus closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples, sighing deeply. "Neville, you know that Voldemort is back. You know that there are those of us preparing to fight against him when the time comes. Some of us do very dangerous work, at great personal risk. It's not my place to tell you the Order's secrets; we have to be very careful, because there are people who could lose their lives if some secrets came out. But believe me, Severus Snape is entirely trustworthy. He would risk his life to protect you and Harry, and all the students at Hogwarts." He smiled. "I know he's not always the most pleasant of people, but I can assure you, he is not on Voldemort's side."

Neville pondered this while he licked milk off his spoon. He was more willing than Harry not to have everything explained to him. On the contrary, there were many things he'd just as soon not know. All he needed was to know whom to trust, and if Remus said Snape was trustworthy, then that was good enough for him.

Satisfied, he said, "I think Harry's having a rough time."

Remus sighed. "Yes. Things have never been easy for him, have they? I'll have a talk with him. We'll see how it goes."

Neville looked up at him. "Are *you* all right? I mean, after yesterday?"

"I'm fine. Or I will be, once I get over this hangover."

"Hangover?"

"Yes." Remus looked embarrassed. "Professor Snape and I over-indulged a bit last night. And you, Neville? Are you all right?"

"Yes. Do you think maybe, if Harry's up to it, we could go out for dinner later? Professor Snape says we don't eat right."

"We'll see, Neville." Remus chuckled. "Far be it from me to contradict a Hogwarts professor."

*****

Remus tapped lightly on the door. "Harry? Might I come in?"

There was no answer.

"I know you're awake," he said. "I can hear you moving around. Werewolf ears, you know. Very sensitive."

More shuffling from inside the room, but still no approach to the door. Remus sighed and rubbed at his neck. He never had gotten that hangover potion.

"I found something in the library I thought you might like to see." He paused. "If you're not interested, I'll just give it to Neville."

He waited, ear cocked to the door, and was rewarded with the sound of footsteps on the other side. He smiled. Bribery had never failed to work with Sirius when he was in one of his moods. Remus had become an expert in dealing with petulance.

The door opened and Harry peered up at him, lower lip protruding in a caricature of a pout, but he couldn't conceal his curiosity. "What is it?"

Remus held up a copy of *Werewolves: Malady or Madness?* Harry silently read the title and glanced up in confusion.

Handing him the book, Remus instructed, "Look at the inside back cover."

Harry flipped open the book. "Property of Hogwarts Library. Due date 6 April 1973."

"I knew Sirius never returned the book, but I had no idea it was here," Remus said. "No doubt Madam Pince would love to have it back, but you might want to keep it for yourself."

Harry shrugged. "Why would I want a book about werewolves when I can just ask you anything I want to know?"

"Oh, I think you might prefer the book. Sirius and James made quite a lot of notes in it."

Harry's eyes widened, and he leafed through the pages. Finding one scrawled with diagrams, he looked up and smiled. "This looks like a strategy for a Quidditch play."

"Hmm. I didn't say all the notes would be educational." Remus took advantage of Harry's distraction to enter the room. "Then again, you might find their Quidditch strategies more informative than the book itself."

Nose buried in the book, Harry wandered over to the bed and perched on the edge of the mattress. Remus let him browse while he cautiously approached Hedwig. He didn't get far before she opened her wings and glared at him, sensing the wolf in him. He backed off and she settled down again, though still keeping a wary eye out.

"Oh look," Harry said. "Here's an acrostic. Looks like Sirius's handwriting." Running his finger down the page, he read, "Severus Snape: Shit-eating vermin evil rat --."

"Harry, stop," Remus hastily called out. Perhaps giving him the book was a bad idea.

Laying the book in his lap, Harry said, "I have a hard time believing Sirius would ever want me to apologize to Snape."

Remus closed his eyes, struggling to suppress his irritation at both James and Sirius for dying and leaving the parenting role to him. He'd never wanted this job. "It's not about Professor Snape, Harry. It's about growing up and taking responsibility for your own actions. You don't have to like him, but you are far too old to fly into a temper over him."

"But it's all right when he does it, is that it?" Harry retorted.

"Of course not, but it's not your place to correct him. And why are you telling Neville that Snape is a Death Eater?"

"Because he is! He has the Dark Mark!"

"That was a very long time ago. If Professor Dumbledore saw fit to forgive and trust him, we ought to as well."

"Not me," Harry scowled. "There are some things that should never be forgiven."

A chill curdled in Remus's gut. "I certainly hope not. Severus Snape is not the only person Dumbledore has forgiven. And I have abused his trust far more than Snape ever has."

Harry seemed taken aback by that, and he looked down at the book in his lap. "You're a thousand times better than Snape."

With a bitter laugh, Remus said, "Thank you. I wish I shared your good opinion of me." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Remus raised his hand, hoping to cut him off. "Look, all I'm asking is that you not let Snape get to you. Rise above it. I mean, look at Neville. Snape's very hard on him, yet Neville doesn't hurl insults at every provocation."

Harry scowled. "That's because Neville's a --." He stopped himself.

"What?" Remus said sharply.

Awkwardly, Harry shrugged. "He's a--. I mean, he's --."

"I'll tell you what I saw yesterday, Harry," Remus said. "I saw Neville overcome his fear of Snape. I saw strength of character and a generous nature. I wish I could say the same of you."

Harry stared down at the book in his lap, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. Standing at the window, Remus watched as Harry slowly flipped through the pages of the book. At last Harry said, "Well, I'm not going to apologize to Snape. And you can't make me."

Remus sighed deeply and shook his head. "No, I can't make you. Only you can decide to be a better person than Sirius and I and your father were."

A frown line appeared between Harry's eyebrows. "I don't understand you sometimes. They were your friends, and yet you say such things about them. The things you say about Sirius - it's as if you didn't like him at all."

"Harry, no one is perfect. It's not disloyal of me to acknowledge that Sirius could be a right unpleasant bastard sometimes. But what kind of a friend would I be if I rejected people for having human faults? Friends are the people who stick by you even when you're at your worst." Remus's voice softened with memory. "James and Sirius certainly stood by me when others would have turned away. They were the best of friends. But I still think you could pick a much better role model than the three of us. And whatever you may think of Neville, I can tell you he's a better man than we were at his age."

"You think I should be like Neville?" Harry asked skeptically.

Remus smirked. "Maybe not in all things. But I do think you could learn from his patience and even-temperedness."

Harry absorbed that in silence, flipping through the book once more, and Remus took it as an encouraging sign that Harry didn't contradict or argue with him. He ventured over to the bed and sat next to Harry, looking over his shoulder at the book.

Harry stopped on one of the pages and tilted it toward Remus, pointing at an illustration of a half man-half beast with a furry beard and long, dripping fangs. "That doesn't look at all like you."

Remus chuckled. "No. But then I daresay werewolves don't generally care to sit for portraits."

Harry ran his fingers over the picture. "You know, at the Ministry, the Death Eaters were after a prophecy. It was supposed to be about me and Voldemort. But the thing is, Dumbledore says it might have been about Neville. It could have been either of us. Neville could have been the Boy Who Lived."

Remus's heart clenched within him. The burden was hard enough for Harry to bear, but Remus couldn't imagine Neville having to deal with it. "Does he know that?"

"No." Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I feel like I ought to tell him, but I don't know how. It doesn't seem right to just go up to someone and say, 'By the way, it might have been *you* Voldemort wanted to kill so badly.'" He looked up at Remus. "Do you think I should tell him?"

Remus let out a long breath. "I have no idea, Harry. What did Professor Dumbledore say?"

"He said it was my decision." Harry bit his lip. "I think I should, but...."

"Well, when the right time comes, I'm sure you'll tell him. And speaking of Neville, he suggested we go out for lunch." Remus stood. "I'm going to go downstairs. When you're ready, come down and join us."

He left Harry to look through the book and think about what they had said.