Amidst The Ashes

Chapter 3

There had been no more kisses that night, much to Neville's disappointment. Snape had been pacing by the greenhouses when they returned. Charlie and Neville had separated the live samples from those immediately useful as potion ingredients. Snape had then commandeered both the samples and Charlie - the latter as a substitute pack mule.

Neville had gotten immediately to work trying to replant and stabilize the fragile plants. He'd not looked up again for nearly 19 hours, when he had literally dragged his weary body up to the Tower and collapsed. When he woke 12 hours later it was lunch time, fully two days after the meeting.

Charlie was gone. Neville reported on his progress to both Dumbledore and Sprout and was given the task of finding a way to domesticate the rare plants. Madam Sprout was still trying to teach, while maintaining greenhouses that churned out food for the castle; along with components for the potions and salves needed in the steadily filling infirmary.

Neville passed the next ten days doing his part for the war. He spent the majority of his time in and around the greenhouses. Sometimes he would work for 24 hours straight, coaxing and spelling and all but begging the rare plants to live, to grow faster, to produce extraordinary results for him. Whatever time he had left he used to practice dueling with the Order. He also leant himself as a tutor to students struggling with DADA class.

Professor Snape appeared in the greenhouses with depressing regularity. He came for ingredients, but Neville also suspected he came just as much for the opportunity to take out his frustrations on someone. Neville had always been one of his favorite targets. If Snape had only needed leaves and seeds and pollen he could have sent a student or even a house elf.

The days dragged by. Neville tried not to think about Charlie, not to wonder where he was, why he'd not said goodbye, if he regretted what had happened in the forest. Only at night, on the rare occasion that he actually got to lie down, did he allow himself to relive that kiss and the feelings it had stirred in him. His dreams featured a red-haired man with a gentle smile, blue eyes and a body that made him long for more than kissing.

It was morning again and Neville was listening to some first years argue about Quidditch. He smiled at them, thinking how long it had been since he'd worried about little things like the House Cup. It occurred to him that he had no idea who was even ahead in points. He was glad that the children still had something to celebrate. He'd long since stopped thinking of himself as a child.

Neville was reaching to refill his pumpkin juice when a tired, bedraggled, frankly hacked off-looking owl unceremoniously dropped a letter on his toast. It snatched a piece of bacon from his plate and flew away. Neville chuckled, thinking that if the owl had been able to it would have cursed at him. The boys smiled and commented on the owl as Neville reached out for the parchment.

It had gotten wet at some point, and the letters of his name had run slightly. Neville wondered who could be sending him correspondence. He didn't recognize the handwriting.

Neville,

I apologize for not having the chance to say goodbye. By the time you finally dragged yourself away from the greenhouses I was likely hundreds of miles away. The Order waits for no wizard. More to the point perhaps, one does not say "No" to Albus Dumbledore. I obviously cannot tell you where I am or what I'm doing. I have no idea when I'll be back. Suffice it to say that whoever came up with that old chestnut about war being hell was not nearly descriptive enough. War may be hell but it's also cold, and tiring, and tedious, and terrifying, and hard work, and bloody inconvenient!

I was told you were going to be at Hogwarts for a while. I hope this letter finds you well. Try to get some sleep. Don't let them work you to death. Watch your back if you get sent out again. In short, take care of yourself.

Charlie

Neville smiled. The day was suddenly brighter. The remaining bacon tasted better than anything he had eaten in months. Charlie hadn't left without a thought. He was in some far flung area doing Order business, but he was thinking about Neville.

~~~~~~~~

The next two weeks passed slowly and routinely. Neville made good progress with most of the list plants. He set up precise conditions and wrote down instructions. Two days earlier he had passed off some of the easy ones to a couple of advanced students. So far it was going well.

He was still having problems with the Emantnalp looctresni. Something happened between the second and third days after germination. It had looked fine two hours ago, the leaves golden, green shoots, buds forming. Now it drooped. The gold had turned to brown. The buds were husks in the dirt. Neville sighed, ran a hand through his hair and consulted his notes again.

This plant was vital. The potion called for both leaves and roots, and Neville was certain that the buds would also prove important. He checked the temperature, the light level, the humidity in the air and the soil, and carefully noted each statistic in his ledger. Biting his lip, he picked up some of the soil and sifted it through his fingers. He would find the problem. It had to be something surmountable.

The voice hissing right in his ear made him jump, and he rammed his hip against the planting table. "So, I see that this is going well."

Snape. Neville turned and found himself looking directly at the Potions Master. His lip was curled. He looked angry and spiteful and his hair was even more greasy than usual. Great Neville thought, target practice, and I'm the chosen fish in the barrel.

Long stained fingers picked up a leaf that had fallen; picked it up and crushed it. "Pathetic. Even you should be able to comprehend on some level that this is important." Snape drew the last word out with excruciating slowness.

Neville got the message, he was too dumb to understand words containing more than one syllable. "I just haven't found the right sequence yet. It will come."

Snape raised an eyebrow and cut him off. "Excuses, Longbottom? What a surprise." He stepped closer, backing Neville up against the bed. "At least your father wasn't completely useless. He could brew a simple potion, cast a spell, water a plant." The final word dripped with contempt. "All without causing havoc. I suppose you should consider yourself fortunate that he's no longer capable of understanding what a failure his son is."

Neville felt as if he'd been hit in the gut, and slapped, and faced with a dementor - all at the same time. His mouth opened but he could think of absolutely nothing to say, not that it would matter if he could have done. The world suddenly lost all it's color and Neville felt ill.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need to speak with you, Professor Snape. Now!"

Neither of them had heard Charlie Weasley come in. Snape snapped around to face him, while Neville moved more slowly. It was like swimming in pudding. Neville wondered if he was going to faint, just to make this day completely perfect.

"Weasley, can't you see...."

"I assure you it is extremely urgent." Charlie was walking across the room and Neville thought he looked like he might grab the man if he refused to follow. Snape apparently thought so too, because he sneered one last time at Neville and then walked haughtily across the room.

Neville shook his head as though to clear it. He still felt sick. He was about turn back to the hopelessly wilted plant when there was a slam. The greenhouse shook.

"HOW DARE YOU?!"

It was Charlie's voice. Neville instantly gave up all thoughts of plants and walked over to the bench near the door. He could see shadows on the glass, but nothing was clear. It was obvious that Snape and Charlie had not gone far.

There was another, smaller, thud and the question was repeated. "How DARE you? Who do you think you are? He's worth 50 of you, Snape." Charlie's voice was deep and harsh and he was clearly livid.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape was trying to sound forceful. "I suggest that you remove you hand. At once! Mr. Longbottom, whatever you may somehow have been deluded into thinking, is probably incapable of even brewing a successful pot of tea."

Neville couldn't see them, but he heard Charlie snort. "And I suggest that you not threaten me. I deal with dragons, Professor. Small-minded, petty little men don't scare me in the slightest. As to your opinion of Neville, better a failed potions maker than a failed Death Eater. Wouldn't you say? Crawled back to lick Albus' shoes when it got to be too much for you?"

Neville gasped and Snape started to make some sort of outraged reply but Charlie had paused only long enough to catch his breath.

"You know nothing about him. He's diligent and courageous and talented in things you have no concept of. He puts himself to mark every day. He would, even still, even after you just said things that, had it been me, would have landed you bleeding on your back.... He would still step between you and the killing curse if he thought it served the greater good. He has a great heart, flawless convictions. He's probably one of the few people alive that can make these bloody plants grow. I don't see you volunteering." Thump. "He won't stand up to you. Won't tell you when you are out of line. But I will. I am. Back. The. Hell. Off. Snape! Back off, or I will make you."

The shadows separated. Neville was absolutely stunned. No one had ever stood up for him like that. And against Snape. And Charlie... He was lightheaded again, but in a completely different way. Snape said nothing, or if he did Neville didn't hear it. He walked slowly back toward the planting bed and dipped his fingers in the dirt, sifting it softly.

The door slammed open again, bounced against the wall and slammed shut from sheer momentum. Charlie stalked across the room. His eyes were flashing when he stopped directly in front of Neville. "Why do you let him talk to you that way? Who taught you that you deserved such things? That you were worth so little? That comments like that could ever be in any way acceptable?" He was obviously furious, but not at Neville.

Charlie balled his hands into fists, took a deep breath and released it. Neville just looked at him, not moving. He was still in shock, both from Snape's comments and from Charlie's relentless defense of him.

Charlie's hands came up to hold the tops of his arms, but the touch was gentle. Neville had half expected it to be bruising. "Don't you know who you are? You really don't see, do you? The value you have? The amazing things you offer the world without ever asking for anything back? Why can't you see it? I see, Neville. I see you."

Neville had closed his eyes half way through the speech, unable to take it all in. He didn't see, therefore, when Charlie leaned in to kiss him. He didn't see, but he felt it. Strong arms wrapped around him and the kiss was fierce, just a breath from violent. Charlie's tongue forced his lips apart, pushed against his teeth and then conquered his mouth. There was no other way to describe it. It lasted until Neville noticed that he needed air and sucked in a desperate breath through his nose. Heat flooded him. He kissed Charlie back, reached up and wound his fingers in red hair, surrendered completely.

The minute he gave in, Charlie pulled away. "Merlin! Bloody hell, Neville, I'm sorry. I'm still absolutely incensed. I wanted wipe that smug look of his face with my fist, rip his head of his shoulders. He's lucky I didn't pull my wand!" He closed his eyes and attempted to get hold of himself. "I'm sorry. It's not true you know, none of the things he said." Charlie buried his face in Neville's hair.

Neville ran his hands down Charlie's back and was surprised to find the other man trembling. "It's okay. It doesn't matter. Thank you for defending me."

"It's not okay," Charlie hugged him tighter and kissed him again. It was a short kiss this time. Charlie drug his mouth away, bit his lip and looked Neville in the eye. "I'm angry. I don't want to kiss you when I'm angry. It's not fair. Do you have a lot more to do here? Do you want to go get a drink with me?"

Neville turned, looked at the half-dead plant and shrugged. "No, not really. There's not a lot more I can do for this one. It's not the only one. I have several others outside, on the edge of the forest. They are doing well. It's just that it would be so much easier if I could get it to grow inside. Reduce travel time, make it possible for someone else to look in on it often." He sighed, "I'll harvest the seeds from this poor thing later."

"That utter bastard. Did he know about the others? Never mind, I don't suppose it would have mattered." Charlie released Neville and ran his hands through his hair in aggravation. He turned away and paced to the door and back. "I'm sorry. Weasley temper - goes with the red hair and freckles and stubbornness."

Neville smiled, picked up his tools and took them to the sink to clean and replace them. "Give me about five minutes and I'll take you up on that drink."