Rowena's Quill

Professor McGonagall had arranged for all Neville's things to be packed while he was in the hospital wing, Trevor and the Mimbulus mimbletonia included. Mr. Striplett, a neighbor of Gran's who owned an imported flying carpet, offered them a lift home after the funeral. For Neville, it was a great relief. If Gran was going to chew him out for lying to her about his injuries, at least it wouldn't happen somewhere more public, like on the Knight Bus. But Gran and Mr. Striplett spent the ride reminiscing about Dumbledore. Neville sat quietly with a tight grip on Trevor and looked out at the passing countryside. Gran was saving it all until they got home.

The carpet touched down lightly at their doorstep.

"Need help with that trunk?" asked Mr. Striplett. Without waiting for an answer, he levitated it into the house.

"Thank you for everything" said Gran.

"Not at all, Mrs. Longbottom. If you need anything, just let me know. And welcome home to you, young man." Mr. Startlett tipped his hat, levitated the carpet again, and in an instant, had flown out of sight.

"The garden looks good," said Neville.

Gran didn't answer. She looked exhausted. She went into the house and sank into a chair.

Neville followed her in. "I guess I'll go unpack," he said. He took a few steps toward his room, but doubled back. He might as well just get it over with.

"All right, I'm sorry I lied. I was only trying to spare you some worry. And Madam Pomfrey really did say I'd be fine."

Gran just sat there looking at him. Then she burst into tears. "How can I bear this? What if I lose you, too? And you'll go running into battle again - it's inevitable. You've become just like Dad."

"Did I hear right?" wondered Neville. "Did she just say what I thought she said?"

Leaning into her handkerchief, Gran sobbed louder and harder. Neville knelt beside her chair and squeezed her hand. She cried for a little while longer, then looked up at him and patted his cheek.

"You're a good boy, Neville. I'm proud of you. Never let me make you think otherwise."

"It's all right, Gran. I know."

"You're lying to spare my feelings again. I don't deserve it. I'm an old battleaxe and we both know it."

Gran dried her eyes. She was getting back to herself.

"Look at you. You're wondering what in the name of Merlin has gotten into me. Well, let me tell you a little something about how funerals affect old people. They remind us that our time is running out. And then we get to thinking about what really matters." She fixed him with one of her accusing looks. "You never told me you had a girlfriend, Neville."

"I don't!"

"What about that Lovegood girl?"

"She's just a school friend."

"Really!"

"How about some jackaroo tea, Gran? It'll make you feel better."

"Don't change the subject. Do you think your old Gran doesn't understand about girls? I used to be one, you know. And I can tell, that girl is sweet on you."

"I - um - I'll go get the tea leaves," he said, hobbling outside.

But not being fully recovered from his injuries, it was easy for Gran to keep up with him. She followed him right outside. "I'll tell you something else, too. I know a little about her family. Your Mum and hers were once very close friends. I suppose that's why Dad subscribed to their magazine, sort of a social obligation. But of course, that wouldn't be a very nice thing to repeat to your friend. Luna is it?"

"Yes, Gran," said Neville, going back inside with the jackaroo leaves. She followed him inside.

"Her mother was a lovely person. The only one of Mum's friends who kept visiting, which is more than I can say for your dear uncle Darius."

For once, Neville would have welcomed a rant about "dear uncle Darius," who was about as dear to him as the snack-cart witch on the Hogwarts Express. Was this how things would be with Gran from now on? Now that she'd finally acknowledged she was proud of him, was she branching out into new turf - advising him about girls? It wasn't much of an improvement. He put a kettle on the stove.

"Her mother died in some sort of spell accident. They say her father was never the same afterward. But Luna seems to take after her mother. I watched the way she helped you get around at the funeral. She's not just another pretty face, though she does have a very pretty face."

The kettle whistled and Neville poured the tea. His hands were so shaky, he nearly burned himself.

Yeah, Luna was pretty. Yeah, Luna liked him. A lot. Yeah, she had a big heart. Gran hadn't seen the half of it, what with all those hours in the hospital wing. He didn't mind Luna coming to visit - he probably would have invited her himself. But even still, the snorkacks and leezetuggers and things were a problem.

"You both need to settle in at home first," said Gran, "but something tells me you're going to start missing her in a few days' time."

And though Neville wouldn't dare raise Gran's suspicions by admitting it, after a week of gardening and listening to the wireless, visiting Mum and Dad and Uncle Algie and Auntie Enid, he did miss Luna. He sent her an owl, and she arrived by Floo the very next day.

"Hi," he said, greeting her shyly.

"Hello," said Luna. To Gran, she said, "You have a lovely house."

"Thank you, dear. It's small, but it suits us. Neville, why don't you show her your garden?"

Neville nodded. It was exactly where he wanted to be. Gran wasn't one for sitting outside. He led Luna through the rows, showing off his herbs and plants with pride.

"I recognize the jackaroo and the vervain," said Luna, "but not everything."

"I like to grow Muggle herbs at home. They don't have magical powers, of course, but they taste good."

"They smell nice, too," said Luna.

"Wanna sit outside?"

"Oh, yes!"

He showed her to the chairs in the center of the garden. He'd left his farmer's almanac in one of them. He picked it up, put it on the little table between the chairs, but in doing so, the gum wrapper he'd been using as a bookmark slipped out. She caught it and said, "Look at this!"

"It's just a gum wrapper," said Neville.

"But look at how it's creased!"

"Yeah, well, that's my Mum. She's always folding up little bits of paper and giving them to me. This time it's a gum wrapper. Sometimes she tears little bits out of magazines. Gran thinks I should chuck them, but I never do."

Luna kept staring at the gum wrapper. "Oh, Neville!" she cried.

"What?" he said, nervously.

"She loves you!"

"Who?"

"Your mother."

Neville was utterly baffled.

"It's all here in Runes," she said, shaking the gum wrapper. She held it upside-down in front of him. "You see how she folded it? The creases form the Runes symbol for 'love.' And then she made one more crease below the letter 'N.' And 'N' is for Neville, of course."

Neville looked closely at the gum wrapper. Except for the crease below the 'N,' he couldn't see what Luna was talking about. It sounded absolutely bizarre. But what if she was right?

"Hang on a minute, Luna." He ran into the house, into his room, and took down one of the many boxes containing papers he'd gotten from Mum. He ran back outside.

"Can you read these?"

She pulled out a few gum wrappers. "Yes, look, they're all the same. All but this one. That has the Runes symbol for 'pride.' She must have been saying she was proud of you."

Neville laid the wrappers out in a row and examined them. They really did look the same, all except for the one that Luna said was different. Or was it just wishful thinking?

He pulled out a bit of torn magazine. "How about this one?"

"Oh, my!" she gasped.

"What?!"

"It's a distress signal. And look at the letters she creased. B-O-D-E. That's the name of the Unspeakable who was killed last year."

"You mean the one who was strangled by Devil's Snare?"

Luna nodded. "She must have been trying to save him."

Neville's heart was racing. "Mum won the Herbology award when she was in school. If she really is healthy and normal after all, then she could easily have recognized it." He could barely believe it. Mum - well after all these years. Dad, too, perhaps. But then doubt struck him.

"Why would she leave notes like this? That's not the way to get rid of Devil's Snare."

"You forget. She doesn't have a wand."

"She could have warned a Healer. She can't speak, of course, but she could have tapped one on the shoulder or pointed or something."

"Perhaps she tried those things and nobody bothered to listen."

Neville could picture it. Hadn't Mum pointed and motioned to things hundreds of times only to be ignored? But it wasn't just their fault; it couldn't be. Sometimes she really did seem insane. Perhaps she was only half-mad. Or perhaps . . .

"They're undercover," Neville whispered. "If the Death Eaters knew they hadn't permanently incapacitated Mum and Dad, they'd go after them all over again."

"I think you're right," said Luna.

Neville sat in stunned silence. Now that he knew this, what should he do next? He had loads of questions for Mum and Dad. Should he tell Gran? Probably not. Mum and Dad hadn't.

"Luna, we've got to keep this a secret."

"I wouldn't tell a soul," she said seriously. "And now, I want to give you a present."

Just like Luna to change the subject at the weirdest possible moment! She put a copy of The Quibbler in his lap. Then she handed him a pair of those ridiculous multi-colored glasses.

"Read it. With the Spectrespecs. And from the right angle."

The right angle? What did she mean? Neville looked down at a headline which said "KNEAZLE GENIUS THAT READS AND WRITES." Uncertainly, he turned the magazine upside-down. Then he hesitated over putting on the glasses.

"Oh, well," he decided. "Our nearest neighbor is a quarter mile away."

He read the article. It was all about the enchantments around Hogwarts that had to be recast since Dumbledore's passing.

He looked up at Luna.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Neville flipped a page to another article, "BIZZYANITIS FELLS ANOTHER ANNOUNCER AT STATION WIZ." He read the article.

"Draco Malfoy is Blizzie the Weather Witch?" said Neville. He tried to stop himself. He covered his mouth with his hand, but his laughter came out in spitting noises.

"I'm sorry. I know it's a serious matter, but . . ." He laughed some more.

"The Quibbler is meant to be funny sometimes. Professor Dumbledore liked that especially."

"Dumbledore knew about it?"

"Professor Dumbledore helped Mummy and Daddy found it." She pointed to some small print on the bottom, "In memoriam: Professor Albus Dumbledore and Rowena Rockrimmon Lovegood."

"Your Mum?"

"Yes. You can take off the Spectrespecs now. They don't work for every article in every issue, but they'll work for most of these."

Neville took off the glasses and smiled and Luna. "But this is great! Mum and Dad are normal, and so are you!"

"How kind of you to say so!" said Luna archly. She turned her head from him.

"Luna's prickly side," he thought gloomily. Here they'd been getting on so well for so many months, and just when they ought to be reaching a new level, he'd gone and gotten her angry. He tried formulating an apology in his mind, but it was too late. She was already crying.

"I know you never called me that hateful name, but you thought it!"

Of course, he knew exactly what she meant. He felt terrible. But she wasn't being entirely fair, either.

"C'mon, Luna. You can't blame me for falling for your act."

"It's not an act! Yes, I can tell the difference between reality and code, but I'll have you know, code expresses reality a lot better than plain English sometimes. I wish more people would speak it. The world makes more sense Mum and Dad's way! And just so you know, I sometimes hear voices, too - voices most people can't hear - and that doesn't make me insane." She cried some more.

Neville didn't know what to say. He got up off his chair, knelt down in the grass, and pulled up a gurdyroot. He pressed it into her hand.

"Please stop crying, Luna. If you don't, Gran'll think I haven't been a gentleman."

Luna laughed through her tears. "If there's one thing you are, Neville, it's a gentleman. I forgive you." She dried her eyes.

"That's one fast-acting gurdyroot," thought Neville. But for added measure, he said, "Let's go inside. I'll make you some jackaroo tea."

"Don't forget your things," said Luna, pointing to his box of Mum's notes and the copy of The Quibbler.

"Right!" he said. He pulled off a few jackaroo leaves, ran into the house, and whisked the box and the magazine into his room. When he returned to the kitchen, Gran and Luna were sitting at the table together.

"Neville, look at the state of your hands! Don't tell me you've been digging around the garden with a guest here!"

"But he gave me a present, ma'am," said Luna, holding up the gurdyroot.

It was a lucky thing Gran couldn't tell the difference between a gurdyroot and a bubotuber. Otherwise, she might have wondered why Luna needed cheering up.

Neville washed his hands and prepared the tea. Gran asked Luna all the usual chit-chat questions: where she and her father lived, did she have any siblings, had both her parents been Ravenclaws. She even asked about Harry's interview in The Quibbler, which got Luna telling a story Neville hadn't heard - that it had actually been Hermione Granger who'd arranged the article and how The Quibbler had never used Rita Skeeter before or since. While Luna told the story, they all had tea and cake. When Luna finished, she tilted her teacup and examined the leaves.

"I see you take Divination," said Gran.

"Yes, ma'am. It's my favorite subject, along with Ancient Runes."

"Your interests are very different than Neville's then. Has he told you? He's already been offered a job at St. Mungo's greenhouse."

Neville could have pinched himself. Was this Gran, boasting about him to another person?

"No, he never told me."

"And what would you like to do when you finish school, dear?"

"I hope to work for my father."

Gran looked at her sympathetically, as though she thought this was an absurdly impractical idea, but wouldn't say so for fear of hurting Luna's feelings. Only half an hour ago, Neville would have thought and done the very same thing.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking out the window. "It's Ron Weasley's owl!"

The owl fluttered inside and dropped a note in his lap. While it waited for his answer, it hovered around Luna, as if confused. Finally, it dropped a letter onto her lap, too.

"It's an invitation to Harry Potter's coming of age party," said Neville. "I didn't know Harry's birthday is the day after mine. May I go?"

"Don't forget we scheduled your Apparition test for that day."

"May I go after the test?" he asked.

"Yes, boy, go. It wouldn't do to disappoint Harry Potter."

Neville scribbled his answer at the bottom of Ron's note. "I'm writing that you got your invitation, but you have to ask your Dad," he told Luna.

"Thanks!"

He finished the note and sent away the owl. "What are we doing for my coming of age?" he asked Gran.

"Don't you think we ought to spend that day with your parents?" She looked stern, but she was holding herself back in front of Luna.

"Yes, of course, we should go to them. In fact, can we go sooner? Tomorrow or the next day?"

Except for the day when he showed his first signs of magic, Neville had never seen Gran so happily surprised. Her eyes welled with tears, and he thought she might cry any second. She didn't, and he was glad. He'd been around too much crying lately.

But more than at him, Gran beamed at Luna, correctly attributing to her his change in attitude. In a million years, though, she'd never guess how and why.

For a moment, Neville considered inviting Luna to join them at St. Mungo's. He wanted to introduce her to Mum and Dad. But he decided he wanted them to himself, at least for the next few visits. In a certain way, he would be meeting them for the very first time, too.