Becoming Neville

Nervously, Neville licked his palm and ran it over his head, trying to press his hair down. He, Remus and Harry were standing in the lift at St. Mungo's, riding up to the fourth floor.

Remus glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Stop fussing with your hair, Neville, you're only making it stand up more." He smiled. "I might almost think you had a crush on Dr. Chatterjee."

"I do not!" Neville protested loudly, before realizing how stupid he sounded. Of course Remus of all people would know he wouldn't have a crush on her. He shot a worried glance at Harry, hoping Remus hadn't given him any mistaken ideas.

"I'm only teasing, Neville," said Remus, grinning slightly. "But do stop spitting on your hair."

Forcing himself to lock his arms at his sides, Neville released a sharp breath. "I'm just anxious. This is my parents we're talking about. Has she found out how to help them?"

Remus's expression softened. "Well, I doubt the state of your hair will have any effect on the matter."

With a gentle lurch, the lift stopped and the door slid open. They walked down the hall, and though the corridor was filled with people, Neville couldn't hear anything, just a dull buzzing in his ears. Surely this meeting would be the most important one in his entire life. He kept imaging what Dr. Chatterjee would say. "I've found a cure! They just need this one little potion - so easy, even you could make it!" He saw his parents looking at him, eyes clear and comprehending, smiles of joy on their lips as they held their arms out to embrace him. His father wiping a tear from his eye, saying, "We're so proud of you, son," while his mother ran her fingers through his hair. "We love you so much."

"Neville," someone chided.

He blinked and looked up. It was Remus. Neville realized he'd been slicking his hair down again. Chagrined, he lowered his hand, willing his tears back. This was just a meeting. Nothing had changed yet. He couldn't let his hopes run so wild.

Giving himself a little shake, he looked around. They were at the desk in front of the resident's ward, and Nurse Nettlethorne was scowling down her long nose at him, arms folded tightly across her chest. "They're waiting for you in Conference Room 3." She pointed a bright pink fingernail down the hall.

Neville opened his mouth to thank her, but only a strange choking sound emerged. He felt a firm grip on his shoulder as Remus steered him down the hall. Trotting along next to him, Harry leaned close and said, "It'll be all right, Neville. She'll help them."

He could only nod in response. Why couldn't Harry understand? That was exactly what had him so nervous. Still, he was grateful that after everything that had passed between them lately, Harry was still friendly

At last they reached the conference room. Remus gave his shoulder another squeeze. "Good luck, Neville."

"We'll wait for you in the tea room," Harry added.

Neville took a deep breath and pushed open the door. There, seated around a large table, were his grandmother, Dr. Chatterjee, Dr. Driftwood, and Professor Snape. He'd only expected Gran and Dr. Chatterjee to be there. He froze in shock, hand on the doorknob, unable to move a muscle.

"More guests!" Dr. Driftwood squawked, glaring at Remus and Harry. "And what are these people supposed to be experts in? Really, Mrs. Longbottom, I'm insulted. No one knows as much in this particular area of medical magic as I do. None of these people is as qualified --."

"Do shut your mouth, Driftwood," Mrs. Longbottom snapped. "They aren't experts; they're friends of the family. That young fellow is none other than Harry Potter, himself."

Dr. Driftwood choked, and his eyes threatened to bulge out far enough to push his glasses right off his nose. Snape gave one of the most formidable scowls Neville had ever seen. Surely it would have given even a dementor a fright. But Dr. Chatterjee beamed happily to see them.

"Mr. Longfeather!" she chirped. "So good to see you again! I was just explaining to Dr. Knockwood that I invited Professor Snape to sit in on the meeting, since he's the one who taught me everything I know about potions, and I know he's your favorite professor, so I was sure you'd want him here as well!"

"Be that as it may," said Dr. Driftwood, "we don't need any more consultants. This rag-tag fellow," he gestured at Remus. "He looks like a gypsy. What's he supposed to be an expert in - palm-reading?"

"No," Remus said quietly, his eyes narrowing. "Defense against the Dark Arts."

Driftwood's eyes bulged once more, and he grew pale. Neville couldn't be sure, but he almost thought he saw Snape give Driftwood a nasty smirk.

Mrs. Longbottom's gaze roamed the room, briefly studying each person present, as if inspecting to see if they'd washed properly before dinner. When she finished her examination, she sat back against the pillows propped up in her wheelchair and pulled her pipe out of her pocket. "If my Neville thinks his friends should be present for this consultation, then I'm not going to argue with him." Her mind spoken, she clamped her teeth around the pipe stem and lit the tobacco with the tip of her wand.

"Mrs. Longbottom," Driftwood said faintly, "how many times must I tell you, there is no smoking in hospital."

"I'll be the judge of that, young man," she snapped. Jabbing her pipe toward the doorway, she ordered, "Neville! Come in! And you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. -- erm." She waved her pipe, trying to recall Lupin's name.

"Oh, yes!" added Dr. Chatterjee. "Mister - ah. That is, Mister--."

Rolling his eyes, Snape drawled, "Lupin."

"Whatever!" Mrs. Longbottom barked. "Come in and sit down. Let's get this meeting underway."

Her command overrode Neville's inability to move, and he entered the room. After a moment's hesitation, Remus and Harry followed him, and all three took seats around the table.

When everyone was settled, Mrs. Longbottom said, "All right then, Dr. Chatterbug. Tell us what you found."

"Certainly, Mrs. Longfeather." She opened an enormous file that sat on the table in front of her. "Now, I know Dr. Knockwood is widely considered an expert, but the mixture of potions he's prescribed for young Orville's parents caused me great concern. Of course I read up on Dr. Knockwood's theories, and I certainly understand how it's supposed to work on parchment, but when I examined Mr. and Mrs. Longfeather myself, their condition did not match Dr. Knockwood's theories."

"Dr. Chatterjee," Driftwood interrupted, "surely you as a researcher understand that variations occur among test subjects."

Dr. Chatterjee looked up at him in shock. "They aren't test subjects, Dr. Knockwood! They're patients!"

"Well, of course that's what I meant --."

"Be that as it may, when I received young Mr. Longfeather's owl, the additional information it contained caused me to reevaluate your entire course of treatment."

"Just a minute," Snape interrupted, his expression suspicious. "What additional information?"

"Didn't you know? Young Longfeather came across records about research on Cruciatus, conducted years ago by Dr. Knockwood's own mentor, Dr. Bushwhack or something."

"Dr. Hackenbush?" Driftwood gasped.

"Yes, that's the one!"

Snape turned his sharp gaze on Neville. "And how exactly did you come across this information?"

But it was Remus who answered. "From the source, as it were. You remember a few months ago when Ron Weasley fell into the Ministry's think tank? It seems he picked up Hackenbush's brain. I used a memory retrieval spell to speak with the doctor's memories."

Snape's expression darkened, but he didn't say anything further.

"This is ridiculous!" Driftwood sputtered. "You expect us to believe such nonsense?"

"You can confirm it for yourself," said Remus. "He remembered you very well."

"I - I -." Driftwood swallowed hard and recovered his indignation. "But those memories would be useless. Dr. Hackenbush's research was discredited when the Ministry arrested him and threw him in Azkaban."

"His ethics were discredited," Dr. Chatterjee said, "but not his discoveries."

"But you - you can't know what that research was. All his notes were stolen."

"By Death Eaters," Remus pointed out.

"Be that as it may," Dr. Chatterjee interrupted, glaring at both Remus and Driftwood, "I studied the information that young Mr. Longfeather sent me. It seems that Dr. Bushwhack--."

"Hackenbush!" shouted Dr. Driftwood.

"Oh, what does it matter what his bloody name is? This is about facts! Dr. Hackenback made important discoveries about how long term exposure to Cruciatus affects the brain, to the extent that some medicinal potions will have unusual effects. And if you'd studied your mentor better, Dr. Woodstock, you would have noticed this in your treatment of the Longbarrows!"

"I - I - this is absurd," he sputtered.

"Look!" Dr. Chatterjee sifted through the files, scattering papers left and right, finally emerging with a sheet in her hand. "Right here! Mr. Longbarrow had a severe psychotic incident on September the fourth, 1995. You administered a tincture of henbane. Standard procedure for normal psychotic patients. But the file clearly states the effects." She pointed to the notation. "'Within minutes, Mr. Longbottom reverted to a catatonic state.'"

"It calmed him down, didn't it?" fumed Driftwood.

"Oh yes, and a coma is excellent for meditation!" she scoffed. "Medicinal henbane tinctures shouldn't send people into a stupor. And here," she threw more papers around, arriving unerringly at the one she wanted. "Every time Mrs. Longbottom is given bloodwort, she regresses to a point where she can't feed herself or even drink a glass of water without assistance. But this potion is only supposed to be a mild sedative. Do you call that normal?"

Snape had sat forward and was quickly scanning the files, frowning. Driftwood stared back and forth between Chatterjee and Snape, but the rest of them were all focused on Driftwood, watching the way the color drained from his face.

His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. Finally he managed to sputter, "But - but, you must understand, the Longbottoms were exposed to Cruciatus far longer than anyone in recorded history. The effects are severe --."

"So they are," Chatterjee agreed, "but your Dr. Bushwhack found that hallucinogens could reorder the damage."

"But that was never - it was a theory only, it never -."

Chatterjee interrupted, "There was a case several years ago of a witch who tried to cast a Confundus charm with a broken wand. It left her in a severe state of dementia. The mediwizards tried everything, but nothing worked. Finally in desperation they gave her belladonna. Within a week her mind was completely restored."

"I remember that case," said Professor Snape. "In fact, as I recall, you were one of the consultants called in to treat the woman, Dr. Driftwood."

"I - yes, I was," he reluctantly admitted. "But that was an entirely different case."

"Really?" said Chatterjee. "Her symptoms were very similar to Mrs. Longfellow's."

"But the cause of those symptoms is completely different."

"Yet you've never even tried a treatment of belladonna, even knowing the remarkable effects it can achieve?" asked Snape.

"There are excellent reasons not to in this case."

Mrs. Longbottom leaned forward, eyes smoldering. "Such as?"

Driftwood adjusted his glasses. "Now, Mrs. Longbottom, I am the expert here. The situation is extremely complicated. If I explained everything to you, you couldn't possibly understand."

"But I could," said Dr. Chatterjee.

Driftwood turned to glare at her, and Mrs. Longbottom said, "Yes, Dr. Chatterbug, I believe you understand things very well. In fact, I would very much like to see how our Frank and Alice would fare under your care."

Driftwood's glare switched to Mrs. Longbottom. "If you do that, you'll be making a very grave mistake. This charlatan will destroy their minds." He whipped around to face Neville, his thin mouth twisted in rage. "You, boy! I thought you loved your parents. If you follow through with this, I can assure you that you will never have a lucid conversation with them. Is that what you want?"

Neville shrank back, eyes wide. He didn't trust Driftwood, but then he didn't know enough about the matter to know how to help his parents. What if Driftwood was right?

Mrs. Longbottom growled, "That sounds an awful lot like a threat to me, Driftwood. I don't take too kindly to people threatening my family. Our business with you is through."

He glowered at each of them in turn, but they met him with steely glares of their own. At last he stood up, smoothing down his mediwizard robes, and strode to the door. There he paused and turned back to them. "It's on your heads." Then he opened the door and left.

There was a long silence in the room. Mrs. Longbottom looked across the table to Dr. Chatterjee. "I don't want to presume, but if you could recommend a doctor, I would be very grateful."

"Mrs. Longfellow, if you wish, I would be happy to take on their care myself."

"That would be a tremendous relief -."

"I don't trust him."

Neville turned to see Remus staring at the door through which Driftwood had just left, his brow furrowed.

"Nor do I," added Snape.

Neville exchanged a glance with Harry, shocked that the two men actually agreed on something.

Mrs. Longbottom said, "I daresay none of us trust him, but with Dr. Chatterjee in charge -."

"No, I mean...." He hesitated, glancing across the table at Snape.

"In your...research," the potions master sneered, as if he'd just tasted something nasty, "did you find anything to indicate that Driftwood might not want the Longbottoms to recover?"

Swallowing hard, Neville clutched at the edge of the table to steady himself.

"Not necessarily," Remus said slowly. "But Driftwood seemed quite eager to dismiss Hackenbush's discoveries."

"And I suspect more than professional pride is at stake," added Snape.

"Professor," said Dr. Chatterjee, shocked, "are you suggesting that Dr. Murkwood might want to harm the Longfellows?"

Neville's heart stopped beating.

"I think it would be wise to take precautions just in case."

Mrs. Longbottom screeched, "That's - that's - how dare he! I'd like to see him try! I won't let him harm one hair on their heads!"

"None of us will," Snape assured her. "Mrs. Longbottom, I suggest you and Dr. Chatterjee make arrangements to transfer your son and his wife to another facility. Lupin and I will make plans for their security until the transfer can take place."

Neville's grandmother said nothing. For a moment, she looked genuinely old and frail. He wasn't used to thinking of his grandmother as fragile, even when she had broken her hip. But now she looked every one of her eighty-three years. Then the familiar steely determination returned to her eyes, and she was once more the formidable woman who could send dementors running with the force of her glare. "Chatterbug!" she barked. "Be so kind as to wheel me to my room. I keep Frank and Alice's papers there."

"Yes, ma'am!" As Dr. Chatterjee rose to aid Mrs. Longbottom, she glanced kindly at Neville. "Don't worry, Mr. Longfeather, I'll take good care of your parents." Turning to Remus, she gave his hand a firm shake. "So good to see you again, Mr. Thingamabob. And you, Mr. Potter." She beamed broadly at him. "I finally realized why you look so familiar. Silly me!"

Harry cringed, ducking his head as if to conceal the tell-tale scar.

"My little niece is such a fan of your films! She must have seen that one about the talking porpoise a dozen times!"

Neville bit back a snicker as Harry frowned in confusion. "What, you mean Flipper?" He shook his head. "No, Dr. Chatterjee, that's Elijah Wood."

"Oh, I know: screen name." She winked at him. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter. Your secret is safe with me."

As Dr. Chatterjee readied the wheelchair, Mrs. Longbottom ordered, "Neville, come with me."

Every instinct instructed him to obey, but for once in his life he defied his grandmother. "No. I'm staying here to protect mum and dad."

Snape scowled. "Mr. Longbottom, attend your grandmother. There's nothing you can do."

But in this matter Neville refused to be cowed, even by Snape. "I'm staying."

"Me, too!" Harry added, standing at his side.

"Mr. Longbottom --."

Remus spoke up. "Don't be so quick to dismiss him. He did take down Macnair at the Ministry."

"The boy stays!" barked Mrs. Longbottom.

Snape appeared to be biting his tongue. As soon as Mrs. Longbottom and Dr. Chatterjee left, he turned on Remus. "Haven't you done enough to endanger the students?"

Remus blinked, taking a step back. "They've proven more than capable of taking care of themselves --."

"I meant Mr. Weasley! Casting a memory retrieval spell on him? What in Merlin's name were you thinking? That's dangerous magic! And I daresay you did it without his parents' knowledge!"

Remus's eyes grew wide. "I'm very experienced with that spell," he faltered.

"It doesn't matter! You had no right. My God, Lupin, nothing has changed. You are still incapable of acting responsibly!"

"It was Neville's idea!" Harry shouted. "Remus only did it because we asked him to!"

Snape wheeled on him. "Lupin is the adult, Mr. Potter. It is his job to act like one and refuse to comply with the misguided requests of the children left in his charge." He glared at Remus. "I should report you to the Headmaster."

"We're not children," fumed Harry. "And if Remus hadn't done it, we wouldn't have known about Hackenbush. He didn't mess up the spell - Ron's fine!"

Neville didn't know what to say. He wanted to defend Remus, but he knew he'd never be able to convince Snape of anything. He glanced up at Remus, wondering why he wasn't defending himself. But Remus's eyes were downcast.

Snape ran a hand through his hair, visibly forcing himself to calm down. At last he was back to his usual steely self. "Very well. Since no harm was done, I won't report you this time. But rest assured, Lupin, if I ever learn of you casting another spell like that on one of my students, I'll report you directly to the Ministry of Magic itself! Is that clear?"

Remus looked away, chewing on his lip. At last his gaze returned to Snape, and he nodded. "Understood."

"Fine." The matter settled, Snape glanced at Neville. "Longbottom, you're best leaving this matter to us."

Clenching his fists at his sides, Neville said, "No. They're my parents."

"He's right," said Remus. Before Snape could protest, he continued, "We ought to set up a twenty-four hour watch. I doubt Driftwood will attempt anything when people are around. Neville and Harry can take a shift during the day, and we and other members of the Order can stand watch at night."

"There are other ways that Driftwood could harm them, short of direct attack. He could dose their food or drink. And there may be medicines that they must continue to take. Longbottom and Potter wouldn't be able to recognize such sabotage."

"That's where Emmeline can help." Remus glanced at the boys. "She's a member of the Order who works here at St. Mungo's. She could come by to test any food or medicine brought to the Longbottoms."

"All right, then," said Snape. "I'll take it up with the Headmaster and see who can help until the Longbottoms can be moved." He glanced at Neville, his lip curled in a sneer. "I understand you have a new wand. I'm sure it will be useful for stabbing people in the eye."

No doubt Snape was mocking him, but since Tonks had been impressed with the effectiveness of Neville's attack against Macnair, he decided to take Snape's comment seriously. "Yes, sir."

"Neville can do more than that," Harry protested.

Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I certainly hope not. This is a hospital. A pitched battle would be unwise, especially with the two of you in action. You did enough damage at the Ministry of Magic. No need to destroy St. Mungo's as well."

Harry fumed, but Neville was beginning to believe Snape was only teasing. Or mostly teasing. Or at least a little bit. "We won't destroy the hospital, sir."

"I'm sure the Board of Directors would be reassured to hear that. Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'll go talk to Professor Dumbledore."

"We'll stay here until we hear from you," said Remus.

Snape smirked and swept out of the room. When the door closed behind him, Harry fumed, "He has no right to yell at you like that! Who the hell does he think he is?"

"A Hogwarts professor?" Remus supplied. "A member of the Order?"

"So what? He's a rotten teacher, and he hates us!"

"Actually - I think he had a legitimate point," said Remus.

Harry's jaw dropped. "What? You can't possibly agree with him!"

"Well...that spell is dangerous, and I shouldn't have done it without the Weasleys' knowledge."

"But if you hadn't --."

"Look," Neville interrupted, "you can keep arguing all you want, but I don't want to leave my parents alone."

Remus and Harry both looked at him. "You're right," said Remus. "Why don't the two of you go on? I'll look up Mrs. Vance and explain the situation to her, then I'll meet you back at the resident's ward."

Neville nodded and grabbed Harry's sleeve before he could start arguing again, pulling him out of the room. They headed back down the hall.

"That Snape!" Harry fussed, gritting his teeth. "What was he doing here, anyway? Dr. Chatterjee shouldn't have invited him."

"Well...I don't mind. It's someone extra helping my parents."

"He's the one we shouldn't trust! He was a Death Eater! Maybe he's the one who doesn't want your parents to get better!"

Neville stopped in the hall and turned on Harry, hands on his hips. "Professor Snape is the one who suggested Dr. Chatterjee in the first place! We'd still be stuck looking at those files if it weren't for him. I know you don't like him, and he's certainly not my favorite teacher, but he's helping my mum and dad. That's all that matters to me!"

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "You're right. Your parents are what's most important." He shoved his hands into his pockets and glared down at his shoes. "But don't expect me to like him for it."

Neville rolled his eyes. "I'd never expect that. Now can we please get to my parents?"