Mad About You

Chapter One: The Way is Clear

Neville nervously stepped into Professor Dumbledore's office. It was only his first day at Hogwarts and he had already been called to the headmaster! Gran was not going to like this. Of course, had Neville been doing a little more thinking and a less trembling in fear, he may have wondered why he was there. But the mind doesn't think clearly when rattling about in its skull.

"Mr. Longbottom, I believe I owe you an explanation," began the wizened wizard. Upon spotting the confused (and still fearful) look on the poor boy's round face, he continued. "You'll want to know why you're here, of course."

Neville couldn't speak, and so he nodded in reply--though it was hard to tell with all his shaking.

"Your parents are heroes, Neville. You do know that?"

Another nod, and while the shaking began to subside, Neville's eyes seemed to tear up. "I've been to see them, Professor," he said. "When I got my school letter. They...they didn't seem to understand."

"This brings me even closer to my point," remarked the headmaster, though in such a gentle tone it was hard to be sure those were actually such businesslike words. "There is something you must know, both in your years at Hogwarts and beyond."

Neville waited patiently. He wanted to hear about his parents; he prayed what was coming was some story of their better days. Before St. Mungo's, before the war, maybe even before they left Hogwarts themselves. Of course, Dumbledore would only say something important at a time like this. So Neville waited.

"There are two types of insanity for two types of sufferers. There are those whose minds are so clouded over that they cannot see what is in front of them. And there are those whose minds are so clear that they don't need to."

Showing a new confidence, Neville stood--without tears, without tremors. "Thank you, sir."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Luna stared back at him from across the table in the library. She really should have been writing her Transfiguration essay. Neville should have been doing his Herbology research as well, but he was lost in thought. He was so lucky, in a way. Despite all his family issues, his clumsiness, and awful forgetfulness, he had Luna. And she was so kind and clever and creative and beautiful. In fact, Neville used to doubt she could ever really care for someone like himself--someone so second-rate. Luna had refused to let him hold these convictions. She made it perfectly clear that Neville was wonderful, and the two of them had been meant to find each other eventually.

"It's like trying to make Crumple-Horned Snorkacks live out in the countryside," she had said dreamily. "There just isn't any point to it. They'll find their way to their mountains. And I will find my way to you."

Neville's thoughts were interrupted as a voice came at them in passing. "Training to be a mediwizard, Longbottom?" Oh, that awful aristocratic drawl. Draco had been especially unbearable to Neville this week, as Harry was in the hospital wing and heavily guarded by Madam Pomfrey--no visitors.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Nothing, nothing; only to wish you luck handling the incurably insane." He smirked his over-practised smirk at Luna.

In less than a second, Neville was out of his chair and running towards the Slytherin. It didn't matter the house points he'd lose, or that he'd be chucked out of the library, or even that Crabbe and Goyle would mutilate him later; Malfoy had insulted his parents and his girlfriend in one swoop and that demanded payment.

"Neville," Luna said, without punctuation, stopping the angry Gryffindor in his tracks. "There is something you ought to know. There are two types of insanity for two types of sufferers. There are those whose minds are so clouded over that they cannot see what is in front of them. And there are those whose minds are so clear that they don't need to."

He turned, and looked at her, caught between the current moment and the echo of being in Dumbledore's office six years previous.

"Luna, love," he said, not breaking precious eye contact, "I want you to meet my mother."