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Oct. 19th, 2010 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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hogwashWho: Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Katie Bell
What: GOING TO THE CARNIVAL and then bad stuff happens
Where: Malmesbury Carnival, Neville’s abode
When: September 2, so serious backdating, dude
Rating: PG-13?
Status: Complete
Neville’s cottage was nestled in a dip between two hills about a mile and a half outside of Malmesbury. The cottage itself was tiny, just one room with a stove, counter, and icebox along one wall and a bed against the other, with an attached bathroom that hardly had enough space for its occupant to turn from the toilet to the sink. The walls were bare and white, the paint rough over plaster. There was one trunk at the foot of the bed, and a small table could fold down from a wall, blocking the kitchen counters in the process. A fireplace in the third wall had long been bricked over, and a radiator sat in front of it, its pipe snaking through the bricks to the oil tank outside.
Its picture could’ve been beside the word ‘spartan’ in the dictionary.
The garden, however, hardly seemed to belong to the same person who lived in the bare room. It was easily four times the size of the cabin, a profusion of colors and scents, with narrow paths snaking through it, doubling back and forth on themselves and winding around a small pond. Clematis, hydrangea, and jasmine covered the walls of the cottage, trimmed back away from the door and windows but otherwise allowed to roam freely. To an uninformed viewer it seemed a hopeless confusion, but there really was a sort of order to it - things planted together that were from a similar climate so that the weather spells could be cast precisely, or things Neville was hoping to hybridize planted together for ease of cross-pollination, or combinations that felt right in Neville’s gut but that he never could have explained to anyone.
None of this was visible from the road. The cottage appeared to be a burned-out shack in danger of collapsing at any moment, and the grounds around it were dry and brittle. Most people travelling on the road felt a strong urge to hurry on by, and rumors had sprung up among the children of Malmesbury over the last year or so that the shack was haunted - though none of them ever seemed to be able to get up the courage to go check it out, no matter how many times they were dared.
Neville had cleaned the cottage in the morning, not that the task took long. Picking and preparing the dittany for Katie was an equally short task, leaving him with several hours until Ginny and Katie were set to arrive. They passed slowly - he tried to read a book but found he couldn’t focus; did some breathing exercises, which helped him relax but didn’t take up nearly enough time; and checked repeatedly to make sure that he had the proper potions in his pockets, just in case he needed them at the carnival.
As 3:00 approached, he headed out to the road, put up a particularly strong Muggle-repelling charm, just in case, and waited for Ginny and Katie to show up.
Though Ginny had a habit of always being late, she made an effort to be a little early for a change of pace. Neville was a nervous wreck and what better way to comfort him than showing up on time? She reassured herself that he would appreciate her showing up early with Katie, because he undoubtedly would want to see both of them. Her attitude toward Apparition had always been one of dread--she had never had a flair for it, though she had passed the exam. She had never been very accurate at it, as far as splinching herself once or twice in recent memory. Taking a deep breath, Ginny imagined Katie’s flat and the building in detail as best she could until feeling the immensely unpleasant, though familiar compressing tug from somewhere behind her belly button. With a resounding pop!, she arrived(much to her relief) where she imagined--right outside the door of Katie’s flat. Wrapping loudly on the door, she called out. “Oi! Hurry your arse up, will you? I’m not going to wait for you!”
“Shut your gob, nobody asked you to,” Katie said easily, casting a charm to open the door as she finished stacking the soup in a large paper bag. She had frozen it in plastic containers just large enough for one serving-- all right, perhaps a little larger, since Neville had looked a bit pale. It was a hearty thing, more of a stew than anything really, studded generously with beef and carrots and potatoes, and she hoped that it stood up to the thawing process... she was worrying too much. She caught the bag up by its handles and turned to Ginny. Katie was dressed casually, a loose button-down with the cuffs rolled and skinny jeans, a battered pair of topsiders on her feet. Her wispy, unruly hair was tied up into a careless knot on the top of her head.
“Make yourself useful while I Apparate, Weasley,” she said, shoving the bag into Ginny’s hand and looping her arm through her friend’s. “I made soup for Neville. I am a productive member of society. --You look hung over, why are you so cranky?”
“Oh, sod off. You look like a bloody walking Harpies stereotype in your button-down,” Ginny scoffed before fixing her with a dirty look. She grunted as the bag(which was surprisingly heavy!) was shoved into her arms and sighed. “You know what, Katie? Want to know why I’m so cranky? I shagged an old friend last night right after Jones told me that I’m a reserve again, even though Morris is still injured. No, I don’t want to talk about it further. Yes, the shag was brilliant. Now shut up--you don’t even bloody know where Nev’s house is.” She pulled Katie in close to her, sharpened the dirty look to a nasty glare before she squeezed her eyes shut and Apparated them both(and the stew) to the road just outside Neville’s humble cottage. Dressed just as simply as Katie, she surprisingly dared to err on the side of feminine--a green tank top and a pair of comfortably fitting long shorts with old trainers.
A bright grin broke across her face when she saw Neville and shoved the soup back into Katie’s arms as she ambled over to him. “Nev! It feels like it’s been so long!” She pulled him into a big hug.
Katie watched the proceedings with a raised eyebrow. Well, at least Ginny wasn’t detonating bombs on Neville’s head. Ginny had hardly given her time to absorb the news, such as it was, and Katie’s color was high-- she was embarrassed that she hadn’t defended herself, annoyed at Ginny for being so rude to her, but she wouldn’t show it in front of Neville. She gave him a lopsided grin and held up the bag. “Soup.”
Neville was very familiar with Ginny’s typical lateness, so he was surprised but pleased when it was still a couple minute to three when she and Katie arrived. “Hi, Ginny,” he said, hugging her back tightly. “Glad you could make it.” He felt better already, just having her there, he realized - she’d been one of his best friends for years, ever since she accompanied him to the Yule Ball in his fourth year, and had always believed in and stood up for him. Leading the revived DA together had brought them even closer and taught him that he could trust her with his life. In the years since, they hadn’t always seen each other regularly, but she’d been supportive and understanding throughout his difficulties. They now had the sort of friendship, Neville thought, where, no matter how long they went between visits, they could always pick up right where they’d left off.
He released Ginny and turned to Katie. “Soup!” he replied. “The dittany’s inside - hang on just a moment.” He pulled out his wand a tapped Katie’s forehead gently, muttering a few words softly. “Alright, all set. Come on in,” he said to both of them, and turned to walk up the path towards the charred shack and barren earth. As he passed the rickety fence surrounding the property, the air shimmered gently and he disappeared behind the perimeter illusion spells.
“Thanks for the invite, Nev. Really looking forward to it!” Ginny wrapped her arm around him and, still grinning, pulled him close for another few moments. Even though her mood was rather dour, and had been the past few days, it was easy to ignore it around Neville. Knowing they had gone some time without seeing each other, it was never a stretch for her to feel comfortable or happy around him. Many of her best Hogwarts memories involved him and the DA, as well as a few of the worst. He knew her secrets, she always found it easy to confide in him and she knew he felt the same about her. Their friendship was one that seemed timeless, she thought. The though of having such a close friendship drew her mind back to Katie. She felt the beginnings of cold guilt for her rudeness with Katie and dared to glance over at her as Neville turned away from them. Catching her eye, she mouthed ‘sorry,’ to her and knew that she would probably be paying for the pub later, as well as for her unnecessary rudeness. Ginny quickly turned and followed Neville through the spells. “So Nev, should I keep my eyes peeled for any leafy tentacles coming out of your garden these days?”
Katie wrinkled her nose at Ginny very slightly. It wasn’t quite an acceptance of the apology, but rather an acknowledgment that they would discuss it later; she loved Ginny enough to deal with her sharp temper, but on days when it was inopportune, Katie had no problems letting her know it. Ginny burned hot and expired quickly enough, and she was always apologetic afterward, but often a wounded Katie took a bit longer to recover. She rubbed the spot where Neville had touched her, forehead still tingling a bit, and said, “Leafy tentacles?”
“No, the venemous tentacula is all the way in the back corner now,” Neville said, grinning over his shoulder at Ginny as the garden exploded into view around them, all bright purples and blues and greens. It would have been difficult for most people to tell whether or not he was lying - especially as he had been known to cultivate a patch of dangerous and not-entirely-legal plants from time to time. But the corners of his mouth twitched ever-so-slightly, betraying his joke to the close observer. He was noticeably more relaxed now that they were surrounded by both plants and his wards - tension drained from his shoulders and his smile came far more easily. He even slung an arm easily around Ginny’s shoulders as they walked up the path to his front door - which, given the size of his lot, was somehow much longer than it should technically have been.
“There aren’t actually any tentacles,” he said over his shoulder to Katie, realizing that she might not know whether or not he was joking. “Nothing dangerous right now. Well, nothing that’ll hurt you without you putting it in your mouth first, so - you know, try not to gnaw on the plants.”
Neville opened the door to his cottage, suddenly looking a little uncertain. He’d realized that he’d never had more than one person over at a time, and he wasn’t entirely sure three would fit entirely comfortably.
Ginny caught onto Neville’s joke quickly--he wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to pulling the wool over her eyes and she knew him well enough to get his hints. She grinned back at him and simply chose to leave well enough alone. It was Katie he was trying to fool, she supposed, and she wanted him to have his fun. “Well, I don’t know, Nev. You know how much I’ve really enjoyed eating your plants when I’ve come for a visit.” Neville seemed to pause at the open doorway of his cottage for a moment and Ginny thought she could scarcely hear him thinking and worrying. Walking up next to him, she murmured, “It’s cozy, yeah?” and ducked inside. “Oi! Katie, c’mon in. Neville gets shy about his incredibly spacious cottage.” Grinning brightly, she motioned for Katie to follow and winked at him.
Katie ducked in after Ginny, still hefting the paper bag filled with frozen soup on her hip, her skin a bit numb from it. The inside was not what she had expected, although if she had been prodded to say what she had expected, she wouldn’t have had a proper answer to that either. Against the riotous backdrop of the garden, she had expected somewhere cozier, perhaps kinder; the bare space made a tiny ache start behind her heart, and a moment later she realized why: it looked as if Neville didn’t have many visitors. Not many at all.
“I love the windows,” she said, crossing the floor to set the bag on the counter, a brusque air about her. She smiled at Neville, a secret kind of grin. “That’s why I chose my flat too-- lots of light. ‘Course, you’d have to have a sunny spot for the most part. The plants, yeah?”
Ginny always put Neville at ease - she somehow managed to acknowledge his feelings without treating him like he was delicate or about to have a panic attack at any moment, as his Gran often did. He was a little surprised by Katie’s ease, as well - she was correct in her guess about the number of visitors he’d had, and he’d never had anybody over who wasn’t already a close friend, so he hadn’t known what sort of reaction to expect. He’d felt her hesitate just a moment, but her obvious attempt to admire the cottage warmed him and he returned her smile. “That’s exactly why I picked Wiltshire,” he said, opening the icebox and shifting things around to make room for the soup. “Plenty of sun and good weather for the plants. And I get lovely light in first thing in the morning.” He glanced around the small room. “I would offer to give you the grand tour, but... there’s really not anything else to see.”
He shoved the soup into the icebox and picked a small paper sack up from the counter. “Here’s the dittany,” he said, handing it to Katie. “You’ll probably need less than you’re used to, as it’s fresh.”
As the tense moment passed, Ginny felt herself relax as Neville smiled and settle into one of the few seats in his humble cottage--she chose the kitchen table. He had always been the most nervous and self-conscious of her closest friends, but she had learned the best methods to calm him down over the years. She knew that now, people treated him differently but Ginny knew better than that--he just needed someone who understood him. “You would be the type to wake up at the arsecrack of dawn with a grin on your face, wouldn’t you?” Chuckling at him, she arched an eyebrow. “There’s barely a ray of sunshine in my flat in the morning.” As Neville handed off the dittany to Katie, she gave her another brief apologetic look before glancing at the seat nearest to her.
“So, Nev, what’ve you heard about this carnival? I’ve heard the food is brilliant.”
“This is lovely-- thank you, Neville.” Katie peered inside the little paper sack, the pungent and pleasant scent curling up to meet her nose. “It’ll benefit Ginny too if she gets banged up on the pitch, so really you’re doing both of us a favor. --And there’s barely a ray of sunshine in your flat in the morning because your dirty laundry’s piled high enough to block out the windows, mate.”
She settled down across from Ginny, tucking the precious little bag into her pocket, and hid a grin.
Neville sat down on the bed, as that was really the only seat left at that point. “I haven’t heard much,” he admitted. “Honestly, I haven’t been into town the last week or so.” He shot Ginny a wry look - he’d actually specifically been avoiding the crowds he suspected the carnival would bring to town. “I think there’s a wizarding carnival just outside town, though - I’m sure it’ll be loads of fun.” He didn’t feel or sound quite as sure as he’d meant to, but he hoped he sounded excited enough that Katie wouldn’t notice.
She grinned back and shrugged at Neville, hardly surprised at his reply. Ginny had great respect for him, trying to move forward and at the very least give it a go to see what would happen at the carnival. A more sympathetic look crossed her face at his final remark--it would be hard, she imagined, but he was tough. At least she would be there for him. “Well, I’m sure it will be brilliant, yeah? I’ll keep you away from the dragon tamers, Nev, if they’ve got’em. Er, have you ever been to a wizarding carnival, Katie? By the way, the laundry isn’t that high, mate, only up to the thighs now. I tried to clean some of it, I did! I’m a healthy, sweaty woman on a professional Quidditch team, it’s only natural I’d have loads of laundry.” Exaggeratedly, she rolled her eyes and broke into a grin.
“Right, yeah, that excuse goes over well with me. Good one, mate. I’m convinced, I’ll never nag you again.” Katie’s voice was utterly deadpan, and she stretched her left leg out beneath the table, leaning back in her chair. It was an effort to appear at ease, at least. She may not have been good at reading Neville, but she had no trouble with Ginny, and that little sympathetic look had piqued her curiosity.
“Not much for dragons?” she asked Neville lightly. “Can’t blame you.”
“I’m on Katie’s side,” Neville informed Ginny. “I’ve seen your apartment. I think I smelled some sphagnum growing under a pile in the loo last time I was there.” Teasing Ginny about her cleaning habits - this was a topic where Neville felt completely comfortable. Dragons on the other hand... “They’re not my favorite,” he said shortly. He’d actually liked dragons once - apart from his intense fear for Harry’s life, he’d quite enjoyed the first task at the Triwizard Tournament. But their tendency to produce fire with little warning had put them far down the list of creatures he wished to be close to ever again.
“Should we get going?” he suggested. “It should be in full swing by now - I could definitely go for some fish and chips.”
“Sphagnum? Is that some kind of tentacled plant? It’d explain a lot, really...” She grinned at both of them, shrugging good-naturedly at their teasing. Ginny knew very well that her cleaning habits were far from what they should be, especially with her living alone and being an adult. At least Molly never came to visit.
At Neville’s suggestion to leave, Ginny pushed up from her seat and smiled at him. “Sounds brilliant. I’ll bet they’ve just got the best food and I’m starving! Er, lead the way, Nev?”
“Oh, chips,” said Katie, lolling blissfully in her chair for a moment before she sprang to her feet. “I didn’t eat because I knew we’d be stuffing ourselves with rubbish today, and chips are the top of my list. Lots of chips. Scores of chips.”
They were trying too hard, she thought. She and Ginny were trying too hard for Neville, because... because why? Because Neville didn’t seem the sort that had visitors often? Because of the look in his eyes, the way he seemed to avoid meeting a steady gaze? There were a lot of people in the war, Katie reminded herself. A lot of people that probably still dreamed and breathed the things they had done and seen. That tiny ache was pulling behind her heart again as she smiled at Neville.
“It’s moss,” Neville said to Ginny. “Which you would know if you’d paid the least bit of attention in third-year Herbology.” He smiled at both Katie and Ginny as he stood up as well and turned to lead the way out of the cottage. He took a moment as he walked down the path to the road to steel himself for the carnival, and sighed a little as he recalled that once upon a time, he would’ve considered this outing to be the most exciting thing to happen to him all year - not that Gran had ever taken him to carnivals.
He held the gate for Ginny and Katie, the garden and cottage shifting back to the illusion before their eyes, then headed northwards on the road towards Malmesbury.
“Sod off about it, all right, Neville? My flair is not for plants, I was too busy thinking about snogging or some such thing. I was fourteen! At least Quidditch has got nothing to do with plants, right?” She huffed dramatically, obviously teasing him right back. Pausing for a moment as Neville started out the door, she turned to Katie. “I’m sorry, really. We’ll talk later, all right?”
Quickly catching up with Neville and feeling the familiar sensation of the perimeter charms giving way to her pushing past them, she gave Neville’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, yeah?” The walk to the carnival was not a particularly long or unpleasant one and she knew, by the token carnival sounds and smells, that they were near. “Oi, Katie, let’s get loads of chips and all the worst looking food we can find!”
“I don’t want to fall out of the sky, mate, I’ve got flying to do tomorrow morning--” But Katie was smiling as they walked along, and she linked arms with Ginny, a move that looked whimsical and silly, but that was also a decided sign of forgiveness. It still rankled her that Ginny had snapped at her, but she’d said it and Katie agreed: they’d talk about it later. Now wasn’t the time. After a moment, Katie looped her arm through Neville’s as well. She was trying too hard and it would probably all crumble down around her feet, but for now she felt cheerful just trying to keep up the fragile equilibrium they were creating together.
“Chips and candy floss is what I’m after,” she informed Neville. “Pink candy floss as big as my face. Did you know there was a bloody journalist once, said my hair looked like candy floss after I came off a match? Never granted that bloke an interview, tell you what.”
“Do you think they’ll have fairy cakes?” Neville asked wistfully. Gran had never let him have fairy cakes, which, of course, had resulted in his obsessive love for them. The carnival came into sight as they walked around a bend in the road. It was larger than Neville had expected, and he immediately felt a bit overwhelmed as he tried to take it all in - rows of food and game stands, with rides towering above - rickety roller coasters and swings and a ferris wheel that didn’t quite seem to obey the laws of physics. Behind the shouts of vendors and shrieks of children, he thought he could make out the roar of dragons, probably shut into paddocks between the hills that framed the valley. Neville was quite sure that this was significantly larger than the Muggle carnival which, he believed, was mainly in a cleared-out carpark.
His grip on Katie’s elbow tightened slightly and his smile grew shaky, but he took a deep breath and, surreptitiously taking hold of his wand with his other hand, cast a mild calming charm on himself. “Well, ladies,” he said. “What first?”
“Oh, fairy cakes... they better bloody have fairy cakes! And, as for what’s first, I’m starving so food would be best if that’s all right...” Ginny grinned at both of them before tugging Katie(and, in essence, Neville) toward the colourful food stands that promised the ruin of her Quidditch specific diet. Licking her lips at the idea of eating her weight in chips and cakes, she pulled the pair of them over to the closest(and best looking) stand of chips. “All right, these look brilliant. Why don’t you help me with the chips while Katie finds us some fairy cakes, eh, Nev? We’ll meet at the table.. right there.”
“You two are trying to get rid of me, all right, I see the wicked plan...” Katie grinned, slipping her hands into her back pockets. She rocked back a step to survey the stands, narrowing her blue eyes. “Okay, I’m going... that way. Arbitrary directions are fun for everyone. I’ll be back in a tick with fairy cakes in hand. --Don’t forget the vinegar for my chips, yeah?”
And with that, she was gone, nimbly darting into the crowd for the coveted fairy cakes, feeling a slight release of pressure as she stepped away from Neville and Ginny, letting go of the expectation that she should stay light and smiling. This day was going to be tiring, and yet she was glad she’d come, glad she was making friends with Neville.
Neville was relaxing a bit, the calming charm helping to unknot the tension in his shoulders and the knot of panic in his stomach and the companionship of Ginny and Katie giving him a sense of security. “So far so good,” he said to Ginny once Katie had left.
“Have I been weird? I’ve really been trying not to let on.” He cast an anxious glance at Katie’s receding form - he was finding that he very much enjoyed her company, but he was rather out of practice at making friends. He followed Ginny to the chip stand, avoiding several small children on the way and crossing his fingers that Katie would bring back chocolate fairy cakes.
“I don’t think weird is the word, Nev. You’ve been just fine, bit nervous, but I’m sure that’s not entirely out of character for you, yeah?” She smiled warmly at him before deciding what she wanted. “All right, we’ll have, eh, two orders of chips and a fish and chips.” After handing the vendor a handful of knuts and sickles, she turned her attention back to Neville. “You’re all right, then? Just let me know if.. you know.” It didn’t take long for the wizard to hand her the order, smelling deliciously fatty. Snatching up one of the bottles of vinegar, she nodded toward the picnic table and started off.
“What do you want to do after we stuff our faces, hm? Anything you want to see? I’ll bet they’ve got some brilliant plants!”
“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks - I’ll let you know if...” Neville trailed off, knowing that Ginny know what he was trying to say, but brightened at Ginny’s question. “Plants!” Neville said. “Do you think there are plants? I wish I’d known, I would’ve brought something, I bet my cucumbers are better than any others in Wiltshire! Anything in particular you’re wanting to do?”
He eyed the beer tent speculatively. “I could go for a pint with the chips - how about you? A round on me?”
“Sounds brilliant, Nev. I could go for a pint, too. Why don’t you keep an eye on the chips and I’ll go get us all some, eh? And I know you would have won if they had any sort of plant competition! You should keep your eyes open for stuff like that, yeah?” Ginny grinned at him before she took a few chips and stuffed them in her mouth. “You can pay Katie back for the fairy cakes. D’you mind staying behind for a bit?”
“Not a problem,” Neville said, which, he realized as soon as Ginny left, had possibly been a mistake. The crowd was loud and he was repeatedly jostled from behind as people squeezed between the tables. Neville took several deep breaths and busied himself with shaking vinegar onto his chips and digging some coins out of his pocket for Katie while he waited for either Ginny or Katie to return.
It was only a few minutes before Katie appeared, filing through the crowd carefully with her hand above her head, two white paper sacks gripped in her fist. She was a bit flushed, cheeks a shell-pink under the mop of her hair, and when she spotted Neville she grinned. She came to the table and set the sacks down carefully, taking a seat across from him and batting her hair out of her eyes.
“Oi, it’s busy, isn’t it? All right, I got three for each of us-- they had a few different ones, but I thought chocolate and pumpkin, and then they had ones I’d never seen before, made with a bit of elderflower syrup... if you hate them I take full responsibility.” She smiled at him breathlessly. “Chips-- brilliant. I’m starving. Where’d Ginny vanish off to?”
“She went to get a round,” Neville said nodding in the direction Ginny had gone. “Fairy cakes, brilliant! Elderflower sounds amazing, really. Here, let me give you some money for those.” He was talking a little too fast, he realized, but he couldn’t quite seem to calm himself down. He pushed a bag of chips and some sickles across the table with one hand, trying to wipe the suddenly sweaty palm of his other hand off on his jeans under the table, when there was a sudden roar above that made Neville flinch hard and look up. It was just one of the tame dragons flying a load of excited kids in circles over the carnival, but Neville had to resist the urge to either apparate straight home or dive under the table.
“Bloody hell, that smells excellent!” Ginny appeared with a bright grin on her face, looking at the delicious fairy cakes and the chips just waiting for her on the table. Licking her lips, she distributed the four pints she fetched for them from the beer tent. “I decided to get an extra to try this elderberry ale... Maybe it’s the berry of the carnival, eh?” Settling into her seat and reaching across the table, she grabbed a sack of fairy cake and dug into it without restraint.
“Mmf! Dis is briwiant!” Speaking around a mouthful of cake, Ginny took a long draught from the ale and sighed in satisfaction. “Thanks for getting them for us, Katie. Give this a go!” She slid the pint across the table to Neville for him to try.
Katie, however, was watching Neville. She’d smiled when Ginny returned, but the expression on Neville’s face had caught her attention and wasn’t letting go. She’d seen the flinch, the sudden pallor on his face when the dragon circled above them.
“They’re bloody loud,” she said softly, beneath the bustle of the crowd, and gave him a coaxing smile. “But that’s all those ones are. Loud. Couldn’t hurt a baby, not with all the spells and training. Go on, try an elderflower one first, tell me how they are?”
Neville took the pint in one hand and smiled absently at Katie as he pulled an elderflower fairy cake out of the sack with the other, mentally trying to calm himself. He knew Katie was right, but the crowd felt too loud and close, and he could feel his chest tighten and his breathing growing more rapid.
Suddenly, a little boy, perhaps nine years old, tripped as he walked past their table and immediately started wailing. Neville sloshed his beer over his hand but immediately began to bend towards the boy - he’d learned a thing or two about comforting frightened and upset kids during the last year at Hogwarts. The boy sat up before Neville reached him, revealing bright blood running from his nose. Neville went very pale and still, images suddenly flashing before his eyes - first years returning from Dark Arts classes with gashes left from slashing hexes; the broken body of Colin Creevey; water red with his own blood draining from a sink after he’d mouthed off to the Carrows one too many times. He realized, absently, as his vision darkened, that he was crushing the cake to crumbs as his hands clenched into fists.
Katie was quick, getting to her feet and reaching for her wand to cast a charm-- she and Ginny were old hands at stopping nosebleeds on the pitch, and it was practically second-nature by now. The boy’s mother got there first, however, and Katie slipped her wand back into her pocket, relaxing a bit. Poor wee kid. She was impressed with Neville’s instincts-- he was quicker even than she was, the concern in his eyes evident, but...
“Neville,” she said, and there was a question in it. She reached out to touch his arm, but found that she didn’t make contact; the air around him seemed pale and distraught, and some instinct told Katie that it might be a bad idea to touch him just now. Her fingertips hovered near his forearm. “Oi,” she said more softly, seeing the white of his knuckles. “Neville... what is it?”
“Katie, let’s go back to Neville’s. Now.” Though she hadn’t immediately been aware of his sudden and rather unexpected change in mood, the air seemed to be crackling with energy. Watching Neville for a moment, his paling skin and his circumscribed muscle tension, Ginny noticed and came to be familiar with these cues. This could mean nothing good--and she knew that Neville was in no state to be in the middle of a crowded, loud carnival. Pushing herself up from the table, she quickly moved over to the other side, grabbing Katie and Neville and immediately Apparated back to the road outside his humble cottage. “Help me get him inside, yeah? Come on, Nev.”
Neville nearly fell to the road, disoriented from the apparition and the panic buzzing through him. His breathing was rapid, his vision still dark and blurry around the edges, and he leaned heavily on Ginny as she helped him through the front gate. He made it halfway up the front walk before collapsing on a bench that was surrounded by clematis and shaded by a young willow tree. He buried his face in his shaking hands and tried to calm his breathing and slow his heart rate, barely aware for the moment of Ginny and Katie’s presence.
Katie knelt down next to him swiftly, her hand coming out to balance herself, pressing against the bench a few inches away from Neville. She didn’t speak or touch him. She only waited, looking up, for him to lift his head and meet her eyes. There was a kind of strength in Katie’s pose, something almost protective, but her concern and confusion were obvious in equal measure. The little boy being hurt had bothered him-- it was just a nosebleed, Neville, was what she wanted to say, but it stuck in her throat. Of course. Of course it had upset him.
“Oh, Neville,” she said, in her soft, gravelly voice. “Oh, mate.”
Ginny waited, too, for a few tense moments where she watched Neville cautiously--noting any sudden changes in his disposition. As he sat with his head in his hands, Ginny thought of all the things she could possibly do to help him, but in such a way that it didn’t seem like she was being too sympathetic. “Neville, do you have anything you can take to help?” Moving next to him, she settled down on the bench and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Neville sucked in a deep breath and raised his head, brought back from the memories that had been swirling around him by Katie and Ginny’s voices. “My pocket,” he said, startled that he hadn’t remembered before. He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a handful of small vials full of a clear shimmering liquid. He struggled to uncork one with his still trembling hands before giving up and passing them to Ginny with a snapped “Fuck,” his voice loud and surprisingly sharp in the quiet of the garden.
“It’s all right, Neville.” Just as the vial was handed to her, she struggled for a brief moment with the cork before it slipped out with a pop. “Want a bit of help getting it down? Looks like your hands are shaking.” She offered the vial toward him, but hoped that instead, he chose to take her help. The way he was shaking, she figured more of it would end up slopped down his front than down his throat.
Neville cast an embarrassed sideways glance towards Katie, but let Ginny tip the potion into his mouth. He swallowed, the potion tickling its way down his throat, and immediately began to feel the effects, as a warm muzziness spread through his body, making the world and his worries feel distant and indistinct. Unfortunately, there wasn’t really a potion currently on the market that dealt well with Neville’s panic attacks without having the unfortunate side effect of making him rather loopy and sleepy, which was why he really only liked to take them in emergencies. “Well,” he said, rather faintly, “that was a waste of a perfectly good carnival.”
“Bollocks,” said Katie instantly, but it was soft. She envied the easy way that Ginny could put a comforting hand on Neville’s shoulder, a gesture of friendship that she herself hadn’t earned yet. Neville was embarrassed and she was eager to soothe him, even though she knew she would have reacted the same way. “It’s not the carnival we came for, it’s you. Nothing to be embarrassed about, mate, those dragons had my skin crawling right off. I’ll never understand why anyone thinks they’re a good idea.”
Ginny gave Katie an appreciative look--without a doubt, her compassionate response would make Neville feel a bit better. Turning her attention back to him, she gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Well, I found out I liked elderberry ale, mate! Don’t worry so much about it, Nev. I’m glad we were with you.” Smiling warmly at him, she pushed up from the bench and offered her hand to him. “Why don’t you have a bit of that stew Katie brought? It’ll perk you right up, I’d reckon. She’s quite good at cooking, must be from all the practise she gets making me dinner. Suppose I owe her for all that, don’t I?” Ginny gave Katie an apologetic look, obviously still aware of her misstep earlier.
“Stew,” Neville said. “Stew’s brilliant, all that stuff all mixed together. I tried to make a stew once.” He frowned. “It, um. I mostly just make toast now.” He smiled at Katie, his face looking painfully young and innocent once all the worry and fear was smoothed away. “Thank you very much, Katie,” he said, then took Ginny’s hand and pulled himself to his feet. “Ooh,” he said, wobbling a little. “Dizzy.”
“All right there, Neville?” Ginny watched Neville cautiously as he seemed to regain his footing, using her as a means of balance. “C’mon then, mate, let’s get you inside.” Pulling Neville toward her, Ginny dared a glance at Katie before beginning to lead him toward his cottage with sure, confident steps. If she could just get him inside, he would be fine. As they reached the door, she took a step in front of him to get the door. “Still want the stew, Neville? Or would you rather rest up a bit? My mum would tell you you’re looking a bit peaky and need to sleep it off.” She grinned at him teasingly.
“My mum would say ‘Here, Neville, have a gum wrapper,’” Neville said sleepily. It was a joke he never would have made had he been fully awake, but the sort of thing that easily slipped out in his woozy state. “Sleep, yeah,” he said, flopping down on the bed, shoes and all. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow. “I thought I could do it, but... mmf.”
“It’s all right, Nev.” Ginny chose not to respond to his offhanded comment--she wasn’t keen on remembering how Neville had shared how he often visited his parents with his Gram. “You just rest. Send me an owl if you need something.” She smiled at him, walking over to carefully tug his shoes off and pull the covers up over him. Waiting for a few moments to make sure that he did drift off to sleep, Ginny quietly made her way out of his humble cottage, she shot a glance in Katie’s direction before passing through the barriers and Apparated on the spot.
What: GOING TO THE CARNIVAL and then bad stuff happens
Where: Malmesbury Carnival, Neville’s abode
When: September 2, so serious backdating, dude
Rating: PG-13?
Status: Complete
Neville’s cottage was nestled in a dip between two hills about a mile and a half outside of Malmesbury. The cottage itself was tiny, just one room with a stove, counter, and icebox along one wall and a bed against the other, with an attached bathroom that hardly had enough space for its occupant to turn from the toilet to the sink. The walls were bare and white, the paint rough over plaster. There was one trunk at the foot of the bed, and a small table could fold down from a wall, blocking the kitchen counters in the process. A fireplace in the third wall had long been bricked over, and a radiator sat in front of it, its pipe snaking through the bricks to the oil tank outside.
Its picture could’ve been beside the word ‘spartan’ in the dictionary.
The garden, however, hardly seemed to belong to the same person who lived in the bare room. It was easily four times the size of the cabin, a profusion of colors and scents, with narrow paths snaking through it, doubling back and forth on themselves and winding around a small pond. Clematis, hydrangea, and jasmine covered the walls of the cottage, trimmed back away from the door and windows but otherwise allowed to roam freely. To an uninformed viewer it seemed a hopeless confusion, but there really was a sort of order to it - things planted together that were from a similar climate so that the weather spells could be cast precisely, or things Neville was hoping to hybridize planted together for ease of cross-pollination, or combinations that felt right in Neville’s gut but that he never could have explained to anyone.
None of this was visible from the road. The cottage appeared to be a burned-out shack in danger of collapsing at any moment, and the grounds around it were dry and brittle. Most people travelling on the road felt a strong urge to hurry on by, and rumors had sprung up among the children of Malmesbury over the last year or so that the shack was haunted - though none of them ever seemed to be able to get up the courage to go check it out, no matter how many times they were dared.
Neville had cleaned the cottage in the morning, not that the task took long. Picking and preparing the dittany for Katie was an equally short task, leaving him with several hours until Ginny and Katie were set to arrive. They passed slowly - he tried to read a book but found he couldn’t focus; did some breathing exercises, which helped him relax but didn’t take up nearly enough time; and checked repeatedly to make sure that he had the proper potions in his pockets, just in case he needed them at the carnival.
As 3:00 approached, he headed out to the road, put up a particularly strong Muggle-repelling charm, just in case, and waited for Ginny and Katie to show up.
Though Ginny had a habit of always being late, she made an effort to be a little early for a change of pace. Neville was a nervous wreck and what better way to comfort him than showing up on time? She reassured herself that he would appreciate her showing up early with Katie, because he undoubtedly would want to see both of them. Her attitude toward Apparition had always been one of dread--she had never had a flair for it, though she had passed the exam. She had never been very accurate at it, as far as splinching herself once or twice in recent memory. Taking a deep breath, Ginny imagined Katie’s flat and the building in detail as best she could until feeling the immensely unpleasant, though familiar compressing tug from somewhere behind her belly button. With a resounding pop!, she arrived(much to her relief) where she imagined--right outside the door of Katie’s flat. Wrapping loudly on the door, she called out. “Oi! Hurry your arse up, will you? I’m not going to wait for you!”
“Shut your gob, nobody asked you to,” Katie said easily, casting a charm to open the door as she finished stacking the soup in a large paper bag. She had frozen it in plastic containers just large enough for one serving-- all right, perhaps a little larger, since Neville had looked a bit pale. It was a hearty thing, more of a stew than anything really, studded generously with beef and carrots and potatoes, and she hoped that it stood up to the thawing process... she was worrying too much. She caught the bag up by its handles and turned to Ginny. Katie was dressed casually, a loose button-down with the cuffs rolled and skinny jeans, a battered pair of topsiders on her feet. Her wispy, unruly hair was tied up into a careless knot on the top of her head.
“Make yourself useful while I Apparate, Weasley,” she said, shoving the bag into Ginny’s hand and looping her arm through her friend’s. “I made soup for Neville. I am a productive member of society. --You look hung over, why are you so cranky?”
“Oh, sod off. You look like a bloody walking Harpies stereotype in your button-down,” Ginny scoffed before fixing her with a dirty look. She grunted as the bag(which was surprisingly heavy!) was shoved into her arms and sighed. “You know what, Katie? Want to know why I’m so cranky? I shagged an old friend last night right after Jones told me that I’m a reserve again, even though Morris is still injured. No, I don’t want to talk about it further. Yes, the shag was brilliant. Now shut up--you don’t even bloody know where Nev’s house is.” She pulled Katie in close to her, sharpened the dirty look to a nasty glare before she squeezed her eyes shut and Apparated them both(and the stew) to the road just outside Neville’s humble cottage. Dressed just as simply as Katie, she surprisingly dared to err on the side of feminine--a green tank top and a pair of comfortably fitting long shorts with old trainers.
A bright grin broke across her face when she saw Neville and shoved the soup back into Katie’s arms as she ambled over to him. “Nev! It feels like it’s been so long!” She pulled him into a big hug.
Katie watched the proceedings with a raised eyebrow. Well, at least Ginny wasn’t detonating bombs on Neville’s head. Ginny had hardly given her time to absorb the news, such as it was, and Katie’s color was high-- she was embarrassed that she hadn’t defended herself, annoyed at Ginny for being so rude to her, but she wouldn’t show it in front of Neville. She gave him a lopsided grin and held up the bag. “Soup.”
Neville was very familiar with Ginny’s typical lateness, so he was surprised but pleased when it was still a couple minute to three when she and Katie arrived. “Hi, Ginny,” he said, hugging her back tightly. “Glad you could make it.” He felt better already, just having her there, he realized - she’d been one of his best friends for years, ever since she accompanied him to the Yule Ball in his fourth year, and had always believed in and stood up for him. Leading the revived DA together had brought them even closer and taught him that he could trust her with his life. In the years since, they hadn’t always seen each other regularly, but she’d been supportive and understanding throughout his difficulties. They now had the sort of friendship, Neville thought, where, no matter how long they went between visits, they could always pick up right where they’d left off.
He released Ginny and turned to Katie. “Soup!” he replied. “The dittany’s inside - hang on just a moment.” He pulled out his wand a tapped Katie’s forehead gently, muttering a few words softly. “Alright, all set. Come on in,” he said to both of them, and turned to walk up the path towards the charred shack and barren earth. As he passed the rickety fence surrounding the property, the air shimmered gently and he disappeared behind the perimeter illusion spells.
“Thanks for the invite, Nev. Really looking forward to it!” Ginny wrapped her arm around him and, still grinning, pulled him close for another few moments. Even though her mood was rather dour, and had been the past few days, it was easy to ignore it around Neville. Knowing they had gone some time without seeing each other, it was never a stretch for her to feel comfortable or happy around him. Many of her best Hogwarts memories involved him and the DA, as well as a few of the worst. He knew her secrets, she always found it easy to confide in him and she knew he felt the same about her. Their friendship was one that seemed timeless, she thought. The though of having such a close friendship drew her mind back to Katie. She felt the beginnings of cold guilt for her rudeness with Katie and dared to glance over at her as Neville turned away from them. Catching her eye, she mouthed ‘sorry,’ to her and knew that she would probably be paying for the pub later, as well as for her unnecessary rudeness. Ginny quickly turned and followed Neville through the spells. “So Nev, should I keep my eyes peeled for any leafy tentacles coming out of your garden these days?”
Katie wrinkled her nose at Ginny very slightly. It wasn’t quite an acceptance of the apology, but rather an acknowledgment that they would discuss it later; she loved Ginny enough to deal with her sharp temper, but on days when it was inopportune, Katie had no problems letting her know it. Ginny burned hot and expired quickly enough, and she was always apologetic afterward, but often a wounded Katie took a bit longer to recover. She rubbed the spot where Neville had touched her, forehead still tingling a bit, and said, “Leafy tentacles?”
“No, the venemous tentacula is all the way in the back corner now,” Neville said, grinning over his shoulder at Ginny as the garden exploded into view around them, all bright purples and blues and greens. It would have been difficult for most people to tell whether or not he was lying - especially as he had been known to cultivate a patch of dangerous and not-entirely-legal plants from time to time. But the corners of his mouth twitched ever-so-slightly, betraying his joke to the close observer. He was noticeably more relaxed now that they were surrounded by both plants and his wards - tension drained from his shoulders and his smile came far more easily. He even slung an arm easily around Ginny’s shoulders as they walked up the path to his front door - which, given the size of his lot, was somehow much longer than it should technically have been.
“There aren’t actually any tentacles,” he said over his shoulder to Katie, realizing that she might not know whether or not he was joking. “Nothing dangerous right now. Well, nothing that’ll hurt you without you putting it in your mouth first, so - you know, try not to gnaw on the plants.”
Neville opened the door to his cottage, suddenly looking a little uncertain. He’d realized that he’d never had more than one person over at a time, and he wasn’t entirely sure three would fit entirely comfortably.
Ginny caught onto Neville’s joke quickly--he wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to pulling the wool over her eyes and she knew him well enough to get his hints. She grinned back at him and simply chose to leave well enough alone. It was Katie he was trying to fool, she supposed, and she wanted him to have his fun. “Well, I don’t know, Nev. You know how much I’ve really enjoyed eating your plants when I’ve come for a visit.” Neville seemed to pause at the open doorway of his cottage for a moment and Ginny thought she could scarcely hear him thinking and worrying. Walking up next to him, she murmured, “It’s cozy, yeah?” and ducked inside. “Oi! Katie, c’mon in. Neville gets shy about his incredibly spacious cottage.” Grinning brightly, she motioned for Katie to follow and winked at him.
Katie ducked in after Ginny, still hefting the paper bag filled with frozen soup on her hip, her skin a bit numb from it. The inside was not what she had expected, although if she had been prodded to say what she had expected, she wouldn’t have had a proper answer to that either. Against the riotous backdrop of the garden, she had expected somewhere cozier, perhaps kinder; the bare space made a tiny ache start behind her heart, and a moment later she realized why: it looked as if Neville didn’t have many visitors. Not many at all.
“I love the windows,” she said, crossing the floor to set the bag on the counter, a brusque air about her. She smiled at Neville, a secret kind of grin. “That’s why I chose my flat too-- lots of light. ‘Course, you’d have to have a sunny spot for the most part. The plants, yeah?”
Ginny always put Neville at ease - she somehow managed to acknowledge his feelings without treating him like he was delicate or about to have a panic attack at any moment, as his Gran often did. He was a little surprised by Katie’s ease, as well - she was correct in her guess about the number of visitors he’d had, and he’d never had anybody over who wasn’t already a close friend, so he hadn’t known what sort of reaction to expect. He’d felt her hesitate just a moment, but her obvious attempt to admire the cottage warmed him and he returned her smile. “That’s exactly why I picked Wiltshire,” he said, opening the icebox and shifting things around to make room for the soup. “Plenty of sun and good weather for the plants. And I get lovely light in first thing in the morning.” He glanced around the small room. “I would offer to give you the grand tour, but... there’s really not anything else to see.”
He shoved the soup into the icebox and picked a small paper sack up from the counter. “Here’s the dittany,” he said, handing it to Katie. “You’ll probably need less than you’re used to, as it’s fresh.”
As the tense moment passed, Ginny felt herself relax as Neville smiled and settle into one of the few seats in his humble cottage--she chose the kitchen table. He had always been the most nervous and self-conscious of her closest friends, but she had learned the best methods to calm him down over the years. She knew that now, people treated him differently but Ginny knew better than that--he just needed someone who understood him. “You would be the type to wake up at the arsecrack of dawn with a grin on your face, wouldn’t you?” Chuckling at him, she arched an eyebrow. “There’s barely a ray of sunshine in my flat in the morning.” As Neville handed off the dittany to Katie, she gave her another brief apologetic look before glancing at the seat nearest to her.
“So, Nev, what’ve you heard about this carnival? I’ve heard the food is brilliant.”
“This is lovely-- thank you, Neville.” Katie peered inside the little paper sack, the pungent and pleasant scent curling up to meet her nose. “It’ll benefit Ginny too if she gets banged up on the pitch, so really you’re doing both of us a favor. --And there’s barely a ray of sunshine in your flat in the morning because your dirty laundry’s piled high enough to block out the windows, mate.”
She settled down across from Ginny, tucking the precious little bag into her pocket, and hid a grin.
Neville sat down on the bed, as that was really the only seat left at that point. “I haven’t heard much,” he admitted. “Honestly, I haven’t been into town the last week or so.” He shot Ginny a wry look - he’d actually specifically been avoiding the crowds he suspected the carnival would bring to town. “I think there’s a wizarding carnival just outside town, though - I’m sure it’ll be loads of fun.” He didn’t feel or sound quite as sure as he’d meant to, but he hoped he sounded excited enough that Katie wouldn’t notice.
She grinned back and shrugged at Neville, hardly surprised at his reply. Ginny had great respect for him, trying to move forward and at the very least give it a go to see what would happen at the carnival. A more sympathetic look crossed her face at his final remark--it would be hard, she imagined, but he was tough. At least she would be there for him. “Well, I’m sure it will be brilliant, yeah? I’ll keep you away from the dragon tamers, Nev, if they’ve got’em. Er, have you ever been to a wizarding carnival, Katie? By the way, the laundry isn’t that high, mate, only up to the thighs now. I tried to clean some of it, I did! I’m a healthy, sweaty woman on a professional Quidditch team, it’s only natural I’d have loads of laundry.” Exaggeratedly, she rolled her eyes and broke into a grin.
“Right, yeah, that excuse goes over well with me. Good one, mate. I’m convinced, I’ll never nag you again.” Katie’s voice was utterly deadpan, and she stretched her left leg out beneath the table, leaning back in her chair. It was an effort to appear at ease, at least. She may not have been good at reading Neville, but she had no trouble with Ginny, and that little sympathetic look had piqued her curiosity.
“Not much for dragons?” she asked Neville lightly. “Can’t blame you.”
“I’m on Katie’s side,” Neville informed Ginny. “I’ve seen your apartment. I think I smelled some sphagnum growing under a pile in the loo last time I was there.” Teasing Ginny about her cleaning habits - this was a topic where Neville felt completely comfortable. Dragons on the other hand... “They’re not my favorite,” he said shortly. He’d actually liked dragons once - apart from his intense fear for Harry’s life, he’d quite enjoyed the first task at the Triwizard Tournament. But their tendency to produce fire with little warning had put them far down the list of creatures he wished to be close to ever again.
“Should we get going?” he suggested. “It should be in full swing by now - I could definitely go for some fish and chips.”
“Sphagnum? Is that some kind of tentacled plant? It’d explain a lot, really...” She grinned at both of them, shrugging good-naturedly at their teasing. Ginny knew very well that her cleaning habits were far from what they should be, especially with her living alone and being an adult. At least Molly never came to visit.
At Neville’s suggestion to leave, Ginny pushed up from her seat and smiled at him. “Sounds brilliant. I’ll bet they’ve just got the best food and I’m starving! Er, lead the way, Nev?”
“Oh, chips,” said Katie, lolling blissfully in her chair for a moment before she sprang to her feet. “I didn’t eat because I knew we’d be stuffing ourselves with rubbish today, and chips are the top of my list. Lots of chips. Scores of chips.”
They were trying too hard, she thought. She and Ginny were trying too hard for Neville, because... because why? Because Neville didn’t seem the sort that had visitors often? Because of the look in his eyes, the way he seemed to avoid meeting a steady gaze? There were a lot of people in the war, Katie reminded herself. A lot of people that probably still dreamed and breathed the things they had done and seen. That tiny ache was pulling behind her heart again as she smiled at Neville.
“It’s moss,” Neville said to Ginny. “Which you would know if you’d paid the least bit of attention in third-year Herbology.” He smiled at both Katie and Ginny as he stood up as well and turned to lead the way out of the cottage. He took a moment as he walked down the path to the road to steel himself for the carnival, and sighed a little as he recalled that once upon a time, he would’ve considered this outing to be the most exciting thing to happen to him all year - not that Gran had ever taken him to carnivals.
He held the gate for Ginny and Katie, the garden and cottage shifting back to the illusion before their eyes, then headed northwards on the road towards Malmesbury.
“Sod off about it, all right, Neville? My flair is not for plants, I was too busy thinking about snogging or some such thing. I was fourteen! At least Quidditch has got nothing to do with plants, right?” She huffed dramatically, obviously teasing him right back. Pausing for a moment as Neville started out the door, she turned to Katie. “I’m sorry, really. We’ll talk later, all right?”
Quickly catching up with Neville and feeling the familiar sensation of the perimeter charms giving way to her pushing past them, she gave Neville’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, yeah?” The walk to the carnival was not a particularly long or unpleasant one and she knew, by the token carnival sounds and smells, that they were near. “Oi, Katie, let’s get loads of chips and all the worst looking food we can find!”
“I don’t want to fall out of the sky, mate, I’ve got flying to do tomorrow morning--” But Katie was smiling as they walked along, and she linked arms with Ginny, a move that looked whimsical and silly, but that was also a decided sign of forgiveness. It still rankled her that Ginny had snapped at her, but she’d said it and Katie agreed: they’d talk about it later. Now wasn’t the time. After a moment, Katie looped her arm through Neville’s as well. She was trying too hard and it would probably all crumble down around her feet, but for now she felt cheerful just trying to keep up the fragile equilibrium they were creating together.
“Chips and candy floss is what I’m after,” she informed Neville. “Pink candy floss as big as my face. Did you know there was a bloody journalist once, said my hair looked like candy floss after I came off a match? Never granted that bloke an interview, tell you what.”
“Do you think they’ll have fairy cakes?” Neville asked wistfully. Gran had never let him have fairy cakes, which, of course, had resulted in his obsessive love for them. The carnival came into sight as they walked around a bend in the road. It was larger than Neville had expected, and he immediately felt a bit overwhelmed as he tried to take it all in - rows of food and game stands, with rides towering above - rickety roller coasters and swings and a ferris wheel that didn’t quite seem to obey the laws of physics. Behind the shouts of vendors and shrieks of children, he thought he could make out the roar of dragons, probably shut into paddocks between the hills that framed the valley. Neville was quite sure that this was significantly larger than the Muggle carnival which, he believed, was mainly in a cleared-out carpark.
His grip on Katie’s elbow tightened slightly and his smile grew shaky, but he took a deep breath and, surreptitiously taking hold of his wand with his other hand, cast a mild calming charm on himself. “Well, ladies,” he said. “What first?”
“Oh, fairy cakes... they better bloody have fairy cakes! And, as for what’s first, I’m starving so food would be best if that’s all right...” Ginny grinned at both of them before tugging Katie(and, in essence, Neville) toward the colourful food stands that promised the ruin of her Quidditch specific diet. Licking her lips at the idea of eating her weight in chips and cakes, she pulled the pair of them over to the closest(and best looking) stand of chips. “All right, these look brilliant. Why don’t you help me with the chips while Katie finds us some fairy cakes, eh, Nev? We’ll meet at the table.. right there.”
“You two are trying to get rid of me, all right, I see the wicked plan...” Katie grinned, slipping her hands into her back pockets. She rocked back a step to survey the stands, narrowing her blue eyes. “Okay, I’m going... that way. Arbitrary directions are fun for everyone. I’ll be back in a tick with fairy cakes in hand. --Don’t forget the vinegar for my chips, yeah?”
And with that, she was gone, nimbly darting into the crowd for the coveted fairy cakes, feeling a slight release of pressure as she stepped away from Neville and Ginny, letting go of the expectation that she should stay light and smiling. This day was going to be tiring, and yet she was glad she’d come, glad she was making friends with Neville.
Neville was relaxing a bit, the calming charm helping to unknot the tension in his shoulders and the knot of panic in his stomach and the companionship of Ginny and Katie giving him a sense of security. “So far so good,” he said to Ginny once Katie had left.
“Have I been weird? I’ve really been trying not to let on.” He cast an anxious glance at Katie’s receding form - he was finding that he very much enjoyed her company, but he was rather out of practice at making friends. He followed Ginny to the chip stand, avoiding several small children on the way and crossing his fingers that Katie would bring back chocolate fairy cakes.
“I don’t think weird is the word, Nev. You’ve been just fine, bit nervous, but I’m sure that’s not entirely out of character for you, yeah?” She smiled warmly at him before deciding what she wanted. “All right, we’ll have, eh, two orders of chips and a fish and chips.” After handing the vendor a handful of knuts and sickles, she turned her attention back to Neville. “You’re all right, then? Just let me know if.. you know.” It didn’t take long for the wizard to hand her the order, smelling deliciously fatty. Snatching up one of the bottles of vinegar, she nodded toward the picnic table and started off.
“What do you want to do after we stuff our faces, hm? Anything you want to see? I’ll bet they’ve got some brilliant plants!”
“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks - I’ll let you know if...” Neville trailed off, knowing that Ginny know what he was trying to say, but brightened at Ginny’s question. “Plants!” Neville said. “Do you think there are plants? I wish I’d known, I would’ve brought something, I bet my cucumbers are better than any others in Wiltshire! Anything in particular you’re wanting to do?”
He eyed the beer tent speculatively. “I could go for a pint with the chips - how about you? A round on me?”
“Sounds brilliant, Nev. I could go for a pint, too. Why don’t you keep an eye on the chips and I’ll go get us all some, eh? And I know you would have won if they had any sort of plant competition! You should keep your eyes open for stuff like that, yeah?” Ginny grinned at him before she took a few chips and stuffed them in her mouth. “You can pay Katie back for the fairy cakes. D’you mind staying behind for a bit?”
“Not a problem,” Neville said, which, he realized as soon as Ginny left, had possibly been a mistake. The crowd was loud and he was repeatedly jostled from behind as people squeezed between the tables. Neville took several deep breaths and busied himself with shaking vinegar onto his chips and digging some coins out of his pocket for Katie while he waited for either Ginny or Katie to return.
It was only a few minutes before Katie appeared, filing through the crowd carefully with her hand above her head, two white paper sacks gripped in her fist. She was a bit flushed, cheeks a shell-pink under the mop of her hair, and when she spotted Neville she grinned. She came to the table and set the sacks down carefully, taking a seat across from him and batting her hair out of her eyes.
“Oi, it’s busy, isn’t it? All right, I got three for each of us-- they had a few different ones, but I thought chocolate and pumpkin, and then they had ones I’d never seen before, made with a bit of elderflower syrup... if you hate them I take full responsibility.” She smiled at him breathlessly. “Chips-- brilliant. I’m starving. Where’d Ginny vanish off to?”
“She went to get a round,” Neville said nodding in the direction Ginny had gone. “Fairy cakes, brilliant! Elderflower sounds amazing, really. Here, let me give you some money for those.” He was talking a little too fast, he realized, but he couldn’t quite seem to calm himself down. He pushed a bag of chips and some sickles across the table with one hand, trying to wipe the suddenly sweaty palm of his other hand off on his jeans under the table, when there was a sudden roar above that made Neville flinch hard and look up. It was just one of the tame dragons flying a load of excited kids in circles over the carnival, but Neville had to resist the urge to either apparate straight home or dive under the table.
“Bloody hell, that smells excellent!” Ginny appeared with a bright grin on her face, looking at the delicious fairy cakes and the chips just waiting for her on the table. Licking her lips, she distributed the four pints she fetched for them from the beer tent. “I decided to get an extra to try this elderberry ale... Maybe it’s the berry of the carnival, eh?” Settling into her seat and reaching across the table, she grabbed a sack of fairy cake and dug into it without restraint.
“Mmf! Dis is briwiant!” Speaking around a mouthful of cake, Ginny took a long draught from the ale and sighed in satisfaction. “Thanks for getting them for us, Katie. Give this a go!” She slid the pint across the table to Neville for him to try.
Katie, however, was watching Neville. She’d smiled when Ginny returned, but the expression on Neville’s face had caught her attention and wasn’t letting go. She’d seen the flinch, the sudden pallor on his face when the dragon circled above them.
“They’re bloody loud,” she said softly, beneath the bustle of the crowd, and gave him a coaxing smile. “But that’s all those ones are. Loud. Couldn’t hurt a baby, not with all the spells and training. Go on, try an elderflower one first, tell me how they are?”
Neville took the pint in one hand and smiled absently at Katie as he pulled an elderflower fairy cake out of the sack with the other, mentally trying to calm himself. He knew Katie was right, but the crowd felt too loud and close, and he could feel his chest tighten and his breathing growing more rapid.
Suddenly, a little boy, perhaps nine years old, tripped as he walked past their table and immediately started wailing. Neville sloshed his beer over his hand but immediately began to bend towards the boy - he’d learned a thing or two about comforting frightened and upset kids during the last year at Hogwarts. The boy sat up before Neville reached him, revealing bright blood running from his nose. Neville went very pale and still, images suddenly flashing before his eyes - first years returning from Dark Arts classes with gashes left from slashing hexes; the broken body of Colin Creevey; water red with his own blood draining from a sink after he’d mouthed off to the Carrows one too many times. He realized, absently, as his vision darkened, that he was crushing the cake to crumbs as his hands clenched into fists.
Katie was quick, getting to her feet and reaching for her wand to cast a charm-- she and Ginny were old hands at stopping nosebleeds on the pitch, and it was practically second-nature by now. The boy’s mother got there first, however, and Katie slipped her wand back into her pocket, relaxing a bit. Poor wee kid. She was impressed with Neville’s instincts-- he was quicker even than she was, the concern in his eyes evident, but...
“Neville,” she said, and there was a question in it. She reached out to touch his arm, but found that she didn’t make contact; the air around him seemed pale and distraught, and some instinct told Katie that it might be a bad idea to touch him just now. Her fingertips hovered near his forearm. “Oi,” she said more softly, seeing the white of his knuckles. “Neville... what is it?”
“Katie, let’s go back to Neville’s. Now.” Though she hadn’t immediately been aware of his sudden and rather unexpected change in mood, the air seemed to be crackling with energy. Watching Neville for a moment, his paling skin and his circumscribed muscle tension, Ginny noticed and came to be familiar with these cues. This could mean nothing good--and she knew that Neville was in no state to be in the middle of a crowded, loud carnival. Pushing herself up from the table, she quickly moved over to the other side, grabbing Katie and Neville and immediately Apparated back to the road outside his humble cottage. “Help me get him inside, yeah? Come on, Nev.”
Neville nearly fell to the road, disoriented from the apparition and the panic buzzing through him. His breathing was rapid, his vision still dark and blurry around the edges, and he leaned heavily on Ginny as she helped him through the front gate. He made it halfway up the front walk before collapsing on a bench that was surrounded by clematis and shaded by a young willow tree. He buried his face in his shaking hands and tried to calm his breathing and slow his heart rate, barely aware for the moment of Ginny and Katie’s presence.
Katie knelt down next to him swiftly, her hand coming out to balance herself, pressing against the bench a few inches away from Neville. She didn’t speak or touch him. She only waited, looking up, for him to lift his head and meet her eyes. There was a kind of strength in Katie’s pose, something almost protective, but her concern and confusion were obvious in equal measure. The little boy being hurt had bothered him-- it was just a nosebleed, Neville, was what she wanted to say, but it stuck in her throat. Of course. Of course it had upset him.
“Oh, Neville,” she said, in her soft, gravelly voice. “Oh, mate.”
Ginny waited, too, for a few tense moments where she watched Neville cautiously--noting any sudden changes in his disposition. As he sat with his head in his hands, Ginny thought of all the things she could possibly do to help him, but in such a way that it didn’t seem like she was being too sympathetic. “Neville, do you have anything you can take to help?” Moving next to him, she settled down on the bench and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Neville sucked in a deep breath and raised his head, brought back from the memories that had been swirling around him by Katie and Ginny’s voices. “My pocket,” he said, startled that he hadn’t remembered before. He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a handful of small vials full of a clear shimmering liquid. He struggled to uncork one with his still trembling hands before giving up and passing them to Ginny with a snapped “Fuck,” his voice loud and surprisingly sharp in the quiet of the garden.
“It’s all right, Neville.” Just as the vial was handed to her, she struggled for a brief moment with the cork before it slipped out with a pop. “Want a bit of help getting it down? Looks like your hands are shaking.” She offered the vial toward him, but hoped that instead, he chose to take her help. The way he was shaking, she figured more of it would end up slopped down his front than down his throat.
Neville cast an embarrassed sideways glance towards Katie, but let Ginny tip the potion into his mouth. He swallowed, the potion tickling its way down his throat, and immediately began to feel the effects, as a warm muzziness spread through his body, making the world and his worries feel distant and indistinct. Unfortunately, there wasn’t really a potion currently on the market that dealt well with Neville’s panic attacks without having the unfortunate side effect of making him rather loopy and sleepy, which was why he really only liked to take them in emergencies. “Well,” he said, rather faintly, “that was a waste of a perfectly good carnival.”
“Bollocks,” said Katie instantly, but it was soft. She envied the easy way that Ginny could put a comforting hand on Neville’s shoulder, a gesture of friendship that she herself hadn’t earned yet. Neville was embarrassed and she was eager to soothe him, even though she knew she would have reacted the same way. “It’s not the carnival we came for, it’s you. Nothing to be embarrassed about, mate, those dragons had my skin crawling right off. I’ll never understand why anyone thinks they’re a good idea.”
Ginny gave Katie an appreciative look--without a doubt, her compassionate response would make Neville feel a bit better. Turning her attention back to him, she gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Well, I found out I liked elderberry ale, mate! Don’t worry so much about it, Nev. I’m glad we were with you.” Smiling warmly at him, she pushed up from the bench and offered her hand to him. “Why don’t you have a bit of that stew Katie brought? It’ll perk you right up, I’d reckon. She’s quite good at cooking, must be from all the practise she gets making me dinner. Suppose I owe her for all that, don’t I?” Ginny gave Katie an apologetic look, obviously still aware of her misstep earlier.
“Stew,” Neville said. “Stew’s brilliant, all that stuff all mixed together. I tried to make a stew once.” He frowned. “It, um. I mostly just make toast now.” He smiled at Katie, his face looking painfully young and innocent once all the worry and fear was smoothed away. “Thank you very much, Katie,” he said, then took Ginny’s hand and pulled himself to his feet. “Ooh,” he said, wobbling a little. “Dizzy.”
“All right there, Neville?” Ginny watched Neville cautiously as he seemed to regain his footing, using her as a means of balance. “C’mon then, mate, let’s get you inside.” Pulling Neville toward her, Ginny dared a glance at Katie before beginning to lead him toward his cottage with sure, confident steps. If she could just get him inside, he would be fine. As they reached the door, she took a step in front of him to get the door. “Still want the stew, Neville? Or would you rather rest up a bit? My mum would tell you you’re looking a bit peaky and need to sleep it off.” She grinned at him teasingly.
“My mum would say ‘Here, Neville, have a gum wrapper,’” Neville said sleepily. It was a joke he never would have made had he been fully awake, but the sort of thing that easily slipped out in his woozy state. “Sleep, yeah,” he said, flopping down on the bed, shoes and all. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow. “I thought I could do it, but... mmf.”
“It’s all right, Nev.” Ginny chose not to respond to his offhanded comment--she wasn’t keen on remembering how Neville had shared how he often visited his parents with his Gram. “You just rest. Send me an owl if you need something.” She smiled at him, walking over to carefully tug his shoes off and pull the covers up over him. Waiting for a few moments to make sure that he did drift off to sleep, Ginny quietly made her way out of his humble cottage, she shot a glance in Katie’s direction before passing through the barriers and Apparated on the spot.
