(no subject)
Title: Come Together (6 of ~8)
Author: corvidae9
Rating: R
Word Count: ~4280
Warnings: crackful premises, het/slash/fem, rampant bisexuality
Summary: Ron tries to beg off of the party and the truth comes out -- err. One of the truths, at least. Neville sort of gets his dinner, Hermione gets a cryptic green light and tries to issue a sensible warning, and Remus has no luck.
Author's Note: See Part I for full Summary/Notes! Questions/comments/interpretive dance, as always, welcome here. :D
I - Saturday | II - Sunday | III - Monday | IV - Tuesday | 4.5 - Tuesday Night | V - Wednesday| VI - Thursday | VII - Friday afternoon | 7.5 - Friday Night | VIII - Saturday2
Thursday
Ron cornered Harry in the sitting room as soon as he got home from work (earlier than usual because of the impending holiday) and skipped over every manner of pleasantries to get straight to, "I can't be here for the party." Harry furrowed his brow, and Ron went on unnecessarily. "See, it's because I have this thing... something... that needs doing and so I won't be here. Technically. So--"
"Whoa - hold up--" said Harry, clearly concerned. "You alright, mate?"
"Fine. It's just-- I'm sorry, I wanted to let you know--"
"There you are!" exclaimed Hermione as she entered the sitting room, looking as though she hadn't seen the two of them in eons. She walked all the way into the room and hugged Harry and then Ron, talking all the while. "I've been looking all over. Listen, about tomorrow--"
Ron hugged back, but then pulled away to hold her at arm's length at that. "Hi!"
He held on as almost simultaneously, Harry said, "He says he's busy," still looking confused.
"Busy?!" exclaimed Hermione, oblivious to the fact that Ron was still holding her securely nearly up on her toes. "How? It's a holiday; you couldn't possibly be working because Kingsley promised he'd make sure you were clear. Could you let me go, please?"
"Busy," confirmed Ron releasing her, though finding himself at a loss for what to do with his empty hands. "Sorry." He decided on crossing them over his chest.
"You have to be here," said Hermione, leaving no room for argument as her hands gravitated automatically to her hips. "Maybe at first it was about a stupid, useless party, but now it's a show of solidarity and an important step toward showing that Harry doesn't need Ministry validation and he won't blindly support their cause until things really start changing for the better."
"There'll also be alcohol in large quantities," observed Harry as if in deep thought, cracking a laugh as Hermione smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand.
"Yes, that too," said Hermione with a smile as Harry batted her hand away. "And I for one will need more than a few stiff drinks to deal with the crowd. But I'm going to be here. And you should be too."
"Yeah, the crowd is exactly what I don't want to deal with," muttered Ron. "If it was just you two, and maybe Nev, Gin, whoever, sure. But this... I mean, it's everyone. All of bloody Gryffindor and half of everyone else we know or went to school with. And Malfoy."
Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes nearly in unison. Hermione said dismissively, "Oh, come on, Ron, that is no excuse. You got along just fine last night."
"Besides," added Harry, "Malfoy'll probably show for ten minutes to say he made an appearance at the big party and then run off once Pansy's found Charlie."
"Bollocks! And if he does, I'll beat his arse myself," Ron said, displeased at the very idea. "He can't just wander off from your party-- 'cos... you know..." Neither Harry or Hermione seemed to know, and so Ron was forced to finish the sentence. "...you're attached, sort of. Or as attached as you get to anyone but us these days. Hell, he comes back."
"You seriously think I'm sleeping with Malfoy?" Harry said, just as Hermione said the same, substituting 'I'm' for 'he's'.
Ron tilted his head, arching an eyebrow at Harry and trying to sound convincing. "I told you, I don't care. I won't go berserk if you admit to it." Ron might break a dish or a vase or a piece of furniture next time Harry wasn't around, but he could probably restrain himself for short periods of time.
"Look, I'm not, alright?" Harry said with a sigh, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Remember when Moody made him teach me Occlumency? Remember what I told you about backlash and seeing into each other's heads? Well, see-- Moody wouldn't let up, and I felt so guilty about failing at it before; like I had to prove I could, and Draco-- he felt like he had something to atone for..."
"I remember," murmured Ron, but Harry went on.
"Yeah, and we picked into each other's heads all night long more often than not until I did get it right and by then... there was... yeah. Very little of our lives that the other didn't know. It's hard to let that go. When someone else sees things you can't... couldn't even put into words... you either want to run screaming or you have to get comfortable."
"Oh," said Ron, under his breath, which he struggled for, now feeling like even more of a tool and a bastard for lusting after someone that Harry was so deeply attached to.
Harry cracked a small wry smile. "Oh, it gets better. Apparently we sort of... I don't know. Broke something... So-- yeah. When things get loud in his head, I can um. Sort of hear it. And vice versa."
"I didn't know that part,"said Hermione quietly. "It makes sense, though."
Ron stared open-mouthed, his voice flat when he finally did speak. "You can hear what Malfoy's thinking without trying."
"No! God, imagine?" laughed Harry, still looking a little caught out. "Nooo. It's just... when one of us gets really angry, or stressed or... the opposite... it's like hearing a faint echo of the feeling. It's sort of creepy."
"Fascinating," murmured Hermione, though Ron did nothing to hide the accusation in the question that he overran her with.
"And you didn't think to tell us?"
Harry shrugged, the lines of his forehead beginning to crinkle and form his angry/hunted face. "I didn't want to talk about it. I've only ever thought of telling Nev yesterday, and I didn't end up getting the chance."
"So what, you just invite Malfoy over for the night to read each others' minds and stay current?" said Ron with as much sarcasm as he could muster, chin up as though he was digging in for a fight.
"No, actually," Harry shot back peevishly. "We drink and imagine how nice it must be to be alone in our heads for once. And then we work on making it stop. It used to be clear as a bloody bell, and now it's more of a muffled thud. I'd call that progress."
"...Oh," said Ron, eyebrows nearly crawling off of his forehead in an attempt to look suddenly better informed.
Hermione, who had been pinching the bridge of her nose and letting the pissing contest play out, grumbled, "Yes, Oh. I swear. You're both still fourteen some days." She sighed and dropped her hands to her hips, her recrimination for Harry consisting only of, "You could have asked for help," hissed in his direction before refocusing on Ron. "As for you, you're not getting out of this party. If it's a hot date, bring them along, if not, you've got us and so help me if I have to tie you to a chair and stick a hat on your head myself."
"You know she will," said Harry, scratching the back of his neck and looking away, tongue in cheek. "Not like she hasn't done it before."
Ron's face immediately flushed a violent shade of Weasley red. She had. And Harry had been there. And there had been a lot of nudity immediately following. What? They had thought they were going to die. It's what people do when faced with their own mortality. Usually in isolated pairs, yeah, but he, Harry and Hermione had been sharing a brain since the time they were eleven; surely that had to count for something.
Given the awkward silence and shuffling of feet, they were all thinking the same thing. Hermione, as always, could be counted upon to clear her throat and make the wordless declaration that it was time for the conversation to move on. As such, she did, saying, "Right. Sorted. Ron's coming to the party." She took Harry's hand and walked him to the kitchen mumbling about tea, incorporating her other famous strategy-- not giving anyone the chance to argue and sound stupid in the face of being hopelessly outmatched.
"But--" said Ron in a valiant attempt to defy her, but the swinging door shut behind them and even his dirtiest glare did nothing to bring her and Harry back. He could go after them and continue the discussion in the kitchen, but there was no point. He wouldn't win-- two against one was usually a bad sign for whomever was the 'one'.
Damn the 'two' straight to hell. And Malfoy too, now that he really wasn't shagging Ron's best friend and theoretically free to shag him, because there would surely be death and dismemberment following any attempt on Ron's part to make that happen, and he wasn't sure he could resist.
###
"Come to the party," said Remus as the door opened, not giving Severus a chance to say anything first.
"You're out of your bloody mind," Severus said as he stepped back to let Remus in.
"Not at all," said Remus, ducking his head in acknowledgement as he entered. "They wouldn't let me roam the streets if I were."
Severus shut the door a little more loudly than he needed to. "On the contrary. I know of several others of your ilk currently Auroring, do-gooding and teaching, and yet no one's made a move to lock them away. More's the pity."
Remus paused in his progress down the dim hallway and turned, laughing. He didn't care that the sentiment was probably serious for the most part-- it was just funny. Of course, given that Severus was following at his usual brisk pace, turning in the short, narrow hallway resulted in his ending up face to face with Remus not half a step away. Reminding himself to steady, Remus tilted his head imperceptibly, eyes full of mischief and darting purposefully to Severus' mouth and back, so quickly it might not have happened. "Point. But they'd come for you, next."
All he seemed to earn was another glare, and the growl of that rough velvet voice biting through the space between them, surprising Remus yet again with its capacity for cutting humor.
"They could try," said Severus as he held Remus' eyes for a second longer and then brushed past him.
###
Neville was in no way offended by the owl he'd received from Harry the afternoon previous. He knew as well as anyone in the house that Harry's job was unpredictable at times, especially when they were depending on him for security rather than maintenance. The message had said something about having had to sit up and keep watch, but he'd promised to be home Thursday night so they could try again.
Truth be told, Neville was disappointed but he understood. The people at the halfway house needed Harry more than he did, even though some days it didn't seem like that was even possible.
Yes-- just to be different, Neville was well aware of this fact, and was for the most part not disturbed by it. But Harry was trying to find his way in the world and he didn't need Neville complicating that. Once he did work it out, Neville would still be around-- after all, he'd more or less moved in here, hadn't he?
After he sent one last owl to the latest Wizarding match for the family of a newly-identified Muggleborn, he sighed in relief at the temporarily empty state of his inbox. He'd already convinced Hermione to go home after her last appointment of the afternoon, and it was a quick thing to lock up the tiny storefront office and Apparate into the back garden of 12 Grimmauld. Home.
Pausing in the back entryway to ditch his jacket and shoes, a penchant he blamed on Ginny, though it might have been equal parts that and rebellion against his Gran's overly proper ways. Either way--
"Hey," said a voice familiar enough to bring an automatic grin to Neville's face, flagging only somewhat when he looked up to see just how tired Harry actually looked.
"Hey yourself," said Neville, straightening up and shoving his shoes against the rack with one foot. "Alright, Harry?"
"Yeah," said Harry, dragging a hand through his hair. "Long couple of days is all."
"Get you something?" asked Neville as he circled around the table and behind Harry's chair, squeezing his shoulder as he did.
"Nah, 'mfine. Hermione made tea, but then Ginny dragged her off for 'last-minute errands'," said Harry. "Should be some left--"
"Uh-huh," grumbled Neville, peering sideways at Harry. "Have you eaten?"
"Sure, earlier," said Harry, punctuated by a yawn. "I'm sorry about last night, though."
"Yeah," said Neville, already pulling leftovers from the icebox and setting them on the counter. "You missed it. Got a little loud-- pretty much a party in and of itself, but fun. Good to see everyone."
Harry waved that off. "I heard, yeah. But I owe you dinner. I wanted to, it's just-- huh?"
Neville set a plate of leftovers recently hit with a Warming Charm in front of Harry. "Dinner. Don't worry about it," said Neville as he turned and replaced the containers in the icebox and brought the bread back to the table with him along with his own plate. One more short trip for his mug and then he sat down at the corner adjacent to Harry's seat. "Worked out, yeah?"
Harry eyed the plate of lasagne, picked up his fork and snickered, "Guess it did." Neville watched him take a bite, cracking a huge grin as Harry's eyes rolled up.
"Oh, alright, this is wicked."
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, Neville still watching enough to catch Harry almost nodding off.
"You weren't kidding about sitting up all night, were you?" asked Neville as he selflessly rescued Harry from stabbing himself with his fork.
"No," said Harry, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's just... this new girl..."
"Oh?" said Neville as he sent the dishes off to wash themselves, concerned and yeah, fighting off the so-very familiar twinge of jealousy, though he knew it wasn't about that.
"Lot of problems. Bad enough that I had to babysit the wards and fight off a damn shade," said Harry, who waved it off again and stood. "Should be taken care of, though."
Neville cocked his head. "Get some sleep, Harry."
"Yeah," he said with a smile as he thumped Neville's arm. "Thanks, mate." Harry headed toward the stairs and stopped to turn his smile back on Neville. "I still owe you dinner, though."
"Party's tomorrow," said Neville, arching an eyebrow.
"Saturday, then," said Harry with a shrug. "If you're free."
"When am I not?" said Neville in a tone of gentle self-deprecation, starting a little as Harry answered quickly.
"Beats the hell out of me why," he said. "My luck, then. 'Night."
Neville watched him go and wished he hadn't already re-formed that statement in his head a hundred times, sure he was only taking it the wrong way.
He probably was.
###
Remus leaned on the kitchen counter as he had when he'd first tempted Severus with the idea on Monday, worried that he might not pull this off the way they'd planned. It had seemed to go so well, even though he knew from the start that a party wouldn't be the way to lure Severus out-- he was the sort of man most comfortable in the quiet of his lab; of his home, undisturbed and in his element. He wanted to say that he had no idea what he and Tonks had been thinking when they'd devised this plot, but that was patently untrue. They'd been thinking with their nether regions and firewhiskey from a point of view twenty years out of date... for him, at least.
But Remus was determined now, and even if he couldn't manage this bit of badly-devised plotting, he wasn't going to give up. He would just have to come up with a new plan... and resign himself to having lost the bet with Tonks, because there was no way she would fail, given what he'd heard this week. Which was fine. He'd waited twenty years-- he could wait and come up with something with which to harass Severus next week.
"Lupin. Are you listening?"
Ah. Shite.
"I'm afraid not, Severus," said Remus with a small grin. "I was distracted."
Severus appeared highly unimpressed. "I said, this should be enough to keep the cretins dosed all evening should you so desire. The effects will be greatest within the first half hour, but you could theoretically continue to administer it once every two hours or so with no ill effect."
Remus grinned and shook his head. "Truly, you are amazing. Are you sure you don't want a research and development job with Weasley's wizarding Wheezes?"
The bottle and a slip of parchment were slipped into a box that wrapped itself in brown paper, and Severus took two slow steps in order to hand it to Remus from unexpectedly close proximity. "You couldn't afford me," Severus said with the barest hint of a smirk, and Remus would have fallen out of his chair if he'd been sitting.
"I-- would get a second job," said Remus lamely, adding unthinkingly, "in a heartbeat." It wasn't until it was fully out of his mouth that he kicked himself mentally. Hard. With steel-toed boots. God damn it all, he'd never had to be the smooth one.
Severus started back, eyebrow raised and smirk gone. "That might do it," he said, and then was suddenly occupied in clearing the things pertinent to the box that Remus was holding off of the table.
"...Thank you. I--" Remus nodded to himself. Right. He was definitely not giving up yet, not when-- sodding hell, what had that been? Was that innuendo? Had it been flirting, for god's sake?
"Have you changed your mind about tomorrow yet?"
###
"--So, I thought I'd let you know," said Hermione, actually sounding a little nervous, twisting the strap to the string bag slung on her shoulder and full of miniaturized party supplies as she and Ginny made their way down the street in a Muggle part of town. "I mean, I don't exactly go around advertising who I'm seeing at any given point in time, and you if anyone--"
"Please," said Ginny dismissively, carrying a rucksack bulging at the seams with the same. "The Prophet may make everything about Harry, but I know better. And I have reliable sources."
Hermione nudged her elbow. "You've been spying on me?"
"Not you specifically, but camp can be a little dull and weird without you all," said Ginny with a shrug and a smirk. "The intelligence I receive just makes me feel closer to home."
"The intelligence you receive. Please," scoffed Hermione, though she couldn't help but be amused. "More like the gossip Luna and Neville bring you. Anyway," she added with a resolute inhale. "About--"
"--Yes. Of course it's fine. More than fine." said Ginny, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. "It was a long time ago and I'm not worried about it and you shouldn't be either. Knock yourself out."
Hermione made to answer but was cut off by a tinny, metallic tone that compelled Ginny to suddenly hold a finger up and demand, "Hold on." She pulled her mobile from her pocket, flicked it open, scrutinized the screen for a moment, then laughed before jabbing at the keys in turn.
"Interesting message, then?" said Hermione, annoyed, though studying Ginny's face, now lit by more than the wash of bluish light from the tiny screen.
"Heh. Tonks," Ginny said, still picking at keys.
"Oh?" Hermione said, smirking as she crossed her arms, suddenly sure she was for the most part nonexistent to her friend.
With a self-satisfied grin, Ginny hit the 'send' key and flipped the phone shut. "Yeah. She's looking for a status on our mission."
Hermione shifted to emphasize the bag hanging from her shoulder. "And did you tell her that we're done and on our way home with time to spare?"
"Hell, no," said Ginny emphatically. "Told her I'd rather share that sort of sensitive information in person."
Rolling her eyes skyward, Hermione set her hands on her hips. "Ginny. They just broke up last weekend."
"Pfft," said Ginny, waving it off in an unconscious imitation of Tonks. "That's been coming for practically forever. You know as well as I do they--"
"Still!" said Hermione, scandalized and yet impressed despite herself.
"Still nothing. Besides. She brought me chocolate and pet my foot and is dropping hints about a mile wide," said Ginny, arching an eyebrow at Hermione. "Chocolate, Hermione. The good kind."
"You are so easily bought," Hermione said, shaking her head with no real malice. "And you had better be sure about what you're doing, because a lot of friends could get hurt if you're wrong or--"
Lower lip in a full pout, eyes narrow, Ginny's mobile went off again and she held a hand up at Hermione to glance at the screen. "Hold that bitchy thought. Hello? Oh, hey, hi!"
Hermione watched the pout recede entirely, watched her go from petulant to snickering, hip-shifting, skin-crawly contentment in the space between one word and the next and dropped her hands back to the strap of her bag. Ginny agreed to meet Tonks and give the report over coffee and hung up.
"'Wrong or screwing around', is that where you were?" she asked Hermione, pout back in full effect.
"No," said Hermione, faintly amused. "No, I know you're not 'screwing around', now."
"Because, it's not like we're the most serious people in the world," Ginny went on. "Things go badly, we chalk it up to a bit of fun and move on."
"That's not going to happen either and you know it. You are so hung up on her, it's..." Hermione threw her hands up and exhaled a huge sigh.
"What?" asked Ginny, voice starting to crawl up a notch.
Hermione hugged her close for a moment, then pulled away and shook her head. "Familiar. And as much as I love her, too, there's not a question as to whose arse I kick if you get hurt this time. So don't." She didn't usually get involved in the romantic affairs of her closest friends, honestly, nor did she make idle threats. Hell, she normally wasn't involved in planning parties, much less involved in romantic affairs of her own. It'd just been a strange week.
Ginny stared at her, and didn't argue when Hermione took the bag off of Ginny's shoulder as well and said, "Go have coffee."
"Hermione--"
"Go."
"--Me too, yeah?"
"Yeah," Hermione grinned, jogged up three steps and into the darkened doorway of a closed shop and Disapparated.
###
"No, Lupin, and do not expect that to change," said Severus as he carried the things he had brought upstairs back down to the lab, expecting that Remus would follow. 'Mortified' was not the right word for how he felt about what he'd dared do and say, nor was 'shocked'. 'Disbelief' might cover it more ably. 'Embarrassed that he'd thought to indulge his fantasy with any sort of conscious action' was another.
"Can I help you with that?" Remus said as he did in fact follow, and Severus shook his head resolutely.
"I am fine, thank you," he said, biting off every syllable to make clear just how unnecessary the overture was.
"Am I allowed to express my thanks, at least?" said Remus as they reached the basement lab, the door opening automatically for Severus but requiring an extra word to allow Remus in as well.
"Belated though it may be, yes," muttered Severus, setting the things down onto a pristine work table and finally deigning to charm them to replace themselves properly.
"Thank you," said Remus, leaning against the doorframe. "You're going to make a lot of people laugh very hard, and on a day like tomorrow, they'll need it."
Severus wheeled on him. "Wonderful. I've always wanted to be a joke."
Remus had the nerve to look pained as he straightened up. "That's not--"
"You're welcome, Lupin," growled Severus, arms crossed tightly. "In case you missed it, that was your dismissal."
Jaw set tight, Remus nodded. "That it was," he said with the nerve to look... what was that? Hurt? Damnable wolf.
Severus said nothing further as Remus turned and retreated up the stairs, bracing his hands on the work table once he was out of sight, waiting until he heard the door shut upstairs before kicking it viciously until he heard something crack.
###
Author: corvidae9
Rating: R
Word Count: ~4280
Warnings: crackful premises, het/slash/fem, rampant bisexuality
Summary: Ron tries to beg off of the party and the truth comes out -- err. One of the truths, at least. Neville sort of gets his dinner, Hermione gets a cryptic green light and tries to issue a sensible warning, and Remus has no luck.
Author's Note: See Part I for full Summary/Notes! Questions/comments/interpretive dance, as always, welcome here. :D
I - Saturday | II - Sunday | III - Monday | IV - Tuesday | 4.5 - Tuesday Night | V - Wednesday| VI - Thursday | VII - Friday afternoon | 7.5 - Friday Night | VIII - Saturday2
Thursday
Ron cornered Harry in the sitting room as soon as he got home from work (earlier than usual because of the impending holiday) and skipped over every manner of pleasantries to get straight to, "I can't be here for the party." Harry furrowed his brow, and Ron went on unnecessarily. "See, it's because I have this thing... something... that needs doing and so I won't be here. Technically. So--"
"Whoa - hold up--" said Harry, clearly concerned. "You alright, mate?"
"Fine. It's just-- I'm sorry, I wanted to let you know--"
"There you are!" exclaimed Hermione as she entered the sitting room, looking as though she hadn't seen the two of them in eons. She walked all the way into the room and hugged Harry and then Ron, talking all the while. "I've been looking all over. Listen, about tomorrow--"
Ron hugged back, but then pulled away to hold her at arm's length at that. "Hi!"
He held on as almost simultaneously, Harry said, "He says he's busy," still looking confused.
"Busy?!" exclaimed Hermione, oblivious to the fact that Ron was still holding her securely nearly up on her toes. "How? It's a holiday; you couldn't possibly be working because Kingsley promised he'd make sure you were clear. Could you let me go, please?"
"Busy," confirmed Ron releasing her, though finding himself at a loss for what to do with his empty hands. "Sorry." He decided on crossing them over his chest.
"You have to be here," said Hermione, leaving no room for argument as her hands gravitated automatically to her hips. "Maybe at first it was about a stupid, useless party, but now it's a show of solidarity and an important step toward showing that Harry doesn't need Ministry validation and he won't blindly support their cause until things really start changing for the better."
"There'll also be alcohol in large quantities," observed Harry as if in deep thought, cracking a laugh as Hermione smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand.
"Yes, that too," said Hermione with a smile as Harry batted her hand away. "And I for one will need more than a few stiff drinks to deal with the crowd. But I'm going to be here. And you should be too."
"Yeah, the crowd is exactly what I don't want to deal with," muttered Ron. "If it was just you two, and maybe Nev, Gin, whoever, sure. But this... I mean, it's everyone. All of bloody Gryffindor and half of everyone else we know or went to school with. And Malfoy."
Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes nearly in unison. Hermione said dismissively, "Oh, come on, Ron, that is no excuse. You got along just fine last night."
"Besides," added Harry, "Malfoy'll probably show for ten minutes to say he made an appearance at the big party and then run off once Pansy's found Charlie."
"Bollocks! And if he does, I'll beat his arse myself," Ron said, displeased at the very idea. "He can't just wander off from your party-- 'cos... you know..." Neither Harry or Hermione seemed to know, and so Ron was forced to finish the sentence. "...you're attached, sort of. Or as attached as you get to anyone but us these days. Hell, he comes back."
"You seriously think I'm sleeping with Malfoy?" Harry said, just as Hermione said the same, substituting 'I'm' for 'he's'.
Ron tilted his head, arching an eyebrow at Harry and trying to sound convincing. "I told you, I don't care. I won't go berserk if you admit to it." Ron might break a dish or a vase or a piece of furniture next time Harry wasn't around, but he could probably restrain himself for short periods of time.
"Look, I'm not, alright?" Harry said with a sigh, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Remember when Moody made him teach me Occlumency? Remember what I told you about backlash and seeing into each other's heads? Well, see-- Moody wouldn't let up, and I felt so guilty about failing at it before; like I had to prove I could, and Draco-- he felt like he had something to atone for..."
"I remember," murmured Ron, but Harry went on.
"Yeah, and we picked into each other's heads all night long more often than not until I did get it right and by then... there was... yeah. Very little of our lives that the other didn't know. It's hard to let that go. When someone else sees things you can't... couldn't even put into words... you either want to run screaming or you have to get comfortable."
"Oh," said Ron, under his breath, which he struggled for, now feeling like even more of a tool and a bastard for lusting after someone that Harry was so deeply attached to.
Harry cracked a small wry smile. "Oh, it gets better. Apparently we sort of... I don't know. Broke something... So-- yeah. When things get loud in his head, I can um. Sort of hear it. And vice versa."
"I didn't know that part,"said Hermione quietly. "It makes sense, though."
Ron stared open-mouthed, his voice flat when he finally did speak. "You can hear what Malfoy's thinking without trying."
"No! God, imagine?" laughed Harry, still looking a little caught out. "Nooo. It's just... when one of us gets really angry, or stressed or... the opposite... it's like hearing a faint echo of the feeling. It's sort of creepy."
"Fascinating," murmured Hermione, though Ron did nothing to hide the accusation in the question that he overran her with.
"And you didn't think to tell us?"
Harry shrugged, the lines of his forehead beginning to crinkle and form his angry/hunted face. "I didn't want to talk about it. I've only ever thought of telling Nev yesterday, and I didn't end up getting the chance."
"So what, you just invite Malfoy over for the night to read each others' minds and stay current?" said Ron with as much sarcasm as he could muster, chin up as though he was digging in for a fight.
"No, actually," Harry shot back peevishly. "We drink and imagine how nice it must be to be alone in our heads for once. And then we work on making it stop. It used to be clear as a bloody bell, and now it's more of a muffled thud. I'd call that progress."
"...Oh," said Ron, eyebrows nearly crawling off of his forehead in an attempt to look suddenly better informed.
Hermione, who had been pinching the bridge of her nose and letting the pissing contest play out, grumbled, "Yes, Oh. I swear. You're both still fourteen some days." She sighed and dropped her hands to her hips, her recrimination for Harry consisting only of, "You could have asked for help," hissed in his direction before refocusing on Ron. "As for you, you're not getting out of this party. If it's a hot date, bring them along, if not, you've got us and so help me if I have to tie you to a chair and stick a hat on your head myself."
"You know she will," said Harry, scratching the back of his neck and looking away, tongue in cheek. "Not like she hasn't done it before."
Ron's face immediately flushed a violent shade of Weasley red. She had. And Harry had been there. And there had been a lot of nudity immediately following. What? They had thought they were going to die. It's what people do when faced with their own mortality. Usually in isolated pairs, yeah, but he, Harry and Hermione had been sharing a brain since the time they were eleven; surely that had to count for something.
Given the awkward silence and shuffling of feet, they were all thinking the same thing. Hermione, as always, could be counted upon to clear her throat and make the wordless declaration that it was time for the conversation to move on. As such, she did, saying, "Right. Sorted. Ron's coming to the party." She took Harry's hand and walked him to the kitchen mumbling about tea, incorporating her other famous strategy-- not giving anyone the chance to argue and sound stupid in the face of being hopelessly outmatched.
"But--" said Ron in a valiant attempt to defy her, but the swinging door shut behind them and even his dirtiest glare did nothing to bring her and Harry back. He could go after them and continue the discussion in the kitchen, but there was no point. He wouldn't win-- two against one was usually a bad sign for whomever was the 'one'.
Damn the 'two' straight to hell. And Malfoy too, now that he really wasn't shagging Ron's best friend and theoretically free to shag him, because there would surely be death and dismemberment following any attempt on Ron's part to make that happen, and he wasn't sure he could resist.
###
"Come to the party," said Remus as the door opened, not giving Severus a chance to say anything first.
"You're out of your bloody mind," Severus said as he stepped back to let Remus in.
"Not at all," said Remus, ducking his head in acknowledgement as he entered. "They wouldn't let me roam the streets if I were."
Severus shut the door a little more loudly than he needed to. "On the contrary. I know of several others of your ilk currently Auroring, do-gooding and teaching, and yet no one's made a move to lock them away. More's the pity."
Remus paused in his progress down the dim hallway and turned, laughing. He didn't care that the sentiment was probably serious for the most part-- it was just funny. Of course, given that Severus was following at his usual brisk pace, turning in the short, narrow hallway resulted in his ending up face to face with Remus not half a step away. Reminding himself to steady, Remus tilted his head imperceptibly, eyes full of mischief and darting purposefully to Severus' mouth and back, so quickly it might not have happened. "Point. But they'd come for you, next."
All he seemed to earn was another glare, and the growl of that rough velvet voice biting through the space between them, surprising Remus yet again with its capacity for cutting humor.
"They could try," said Severus as he held Remus' eyes for a second longer and then brushed past him.
###
Neville was in no way offended by the owl he'd received from Harry the afternoon previous. He knew as well as anyone in the house that Harry's job was unpredictable at times, especially when they were depending on him for security rather than maintenance. The message had said something about having had to sit up and keep watch, but he'd promised to be home Thursday night so they could try again.
Truth be told, Neville was disappointed but he understood. The people at the halfway house needed Harry more than he did, even though some days it didn't seem like that was even possible.
Yes-- just to be different, Neville was well aware of this fact, and was for the most part not disturbed by it. But Harry was trying to find his way in the world and he didn't need Neville complicating that. Once he did work it out, Neville would still be around-- after all, he'd more or less moved in here, hadn't he?
After he sent one last owl to the latest Wizarding match for the family of a newly-identified Muggleborn, he sighed in relief at the temporarily empty state of his inbox. He'd already convinced Hermione to go home after her last appointment of the afternoon, and it was a quick thing to lock up the tiny storefront office and Apparate into the back garden of 12 Grimmauld. Home.
Pausing in the back entryway to ditch his jacket and shoes, a penchant he blamed on Ginny, though it might have been equal parts that and rebellion against his Gran's overly proper ways. Either way--
"Hey," said a voice familiar enough to bring an automatic grin to Neville's face, flagging only somewhat when he looked up to see just how tired Harry actually looked.
"Hey yourself," said Neville, straightening up and shoving his shoes against the rack with one foot. "Alright, Harry?"
"Yeah," said Harry, dragging a hand through his hair. "Long couple of days is all."
"Get you something?" asked Neville as he circled around the table and behind Harry's chair, squeezing his shoulder as he did.
"Nah, 'mfine. Hermione made tea, but then Ginny dragged her off for 'last-minute errands'," said Harry. "Should be some left--"
"Uh-huh," grumbled Neville, peering sideways at Harry. "Have you eaten?"
"Sure, earlier," said Harry, punctuated by a yawn. "I'm sorry about last night, though."
"Yeah," said Neville, already pulling leftovers from the icebox and setting them on the counter. "You missed it. Got a little loud-- pretty much a party in and of itself, but fun. Good to see everyone."
Harry waved that off. "I heard, yeah. But I owe you dinner. I wanted to, it's just-- huh?"
Neville set a plate of leftovers recently hit with a Warming Charm in front of Harry. "Dinner. Don't worry about it," said Neville as he turned and replaced the containers in the icebox and brought the bread back to the table with him along with his own plate. One more short trip for his mug and then he sat down at the corner adjacent to Harry's seat. "Worked out, yeah?"
Harry eyed the plate of lasagne, picked up his fork and snickered, "Guess it did." Neville watched him take a bite, cracking a huge grin as Harry's eyes rolled up.
"Oh, alright, this is wicked."
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, Neville still watching enough to catch Harry almost nodding off.
"You weren't kidding about sitting up all night, were you?" asked Neville as he selflessly rescued Harry from stabbing himself with his fork.
"No," said Harry, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's just... this new girl..."
"Oh?" said Neville as he sent the dishes off to wash themselves, concerned and yeah, fighting off the so-very familiar twinge of jealousy, though he knew it wasn't about that.
"Lot of problems. Bad enough that I had to babysit the wards and fight off a damn shade," said Harry, who waved it off again and stood. "Should be taken care of, though."
Neville cocked his head. "Get some sleep, Harry."
"Yeah," he said with a smile as he thumped Neville's arm. "Thanks, mate." Harry headed toward the stairs and stopped to turn his smile back on Neville. "I still owe you dinner, though."
"Party's tomorrow," said Neville, arching an eyebrow.
"Saturday, then," said Harry with a shrug. "If you're free."
"When am I not?" said Neville in a tone of gentle self-deprecation, starting a little as Harry answered quickly.
"Beats the hell out of me why," he said. "My luck, then. 'Night."
Neville watched him go and wished he hadn't already re-formed that statement in his head a hundred times, sure he was only taking it the wrong way.
He probably was.
###
Remus leaned on the kitchen counter as he had when he'd first tempted Severus with the idea on Monday, worried that he might not pull this off the way they'd planned. It had seemed to go so well, even though he knew from the start that a party wouldn't be the way to lure Severus out-- he was the sort of man most comfortable in the quiet of his lab; of his home, undisturbed and in his element. He wanted to say that he had no idea what he and Tonks had been thinking when they'd devised this plot, but that was patently untrue. They'd been thinking with their nether regions and firewhiskey from a point of view twenty years out of date... for him, at least.
But Remus was determined now, and even if he couldn't manage this bit of badly-devised plotting, he wasn't going to give up. He would just have to come up with a new plan... and resign himself to having lost the bet with Tonks, because there was no way she would fail, given what he'd heard this week. Which was fine. He'd waited twenty years-- he could wait and come up with something with which to harass Severus next week.
"Lupin. Are you listening?"
Ah. Shite.
"I'm afraid not, Severus," said Remus with a small grin. "I was distracted."
Severus appeared highly unimpressed. "I said, this should be enough to keep the cretins dosed all evening should you so desire. The effects will be greatest within the first half hour, but you could theoretically continue to administer it once every two hours or so with no ill effect."
Remus grinned and shook his head. "Truly, you are amazing. Are you sure you don't want a research and development job with Weasley's wizarding Wheezes?"
The bottle and a slip of parchment were slipped into a box that wrapped itself in brown paper, and Severus took two slow steps in order to hand it to Remus from unexpectedly close proximity. "You couldn't afford me," Severus said with the barest hint of a smirk, and Remus would have fallen out of his chair if he'd been sitting.
"I-- would get a second job," said Remus lamely, adding unthinkingly, "in a heartbeat." It wasn't until it was fully out of his mouth that he kicked himself mentally. Hard. With steel-toed boots. God damn it all, he'd never had to be the smooth one.
Severus started back, eyebrow raised and smirk gone. "That might do it," he said, and then was suddenly occupied in clearing the things pertinent to the box that Remus was holding off of the table.
"...Thank you. I--" Remus nodded to himself. Right. He was definitely not giving up yet, not when-- sodding hell, what had that been? Was that innuendo? Had it been flirting, for god's sake?
"Have you changed your mind about tomorrow yet?"
###
"--So, I thought I'd let you know," said Hermione, actually sounding a little nervous, twisting the strap to the string bag slung on her shoulder and full of miniaturized party supplies as she and Ginny made their way down the street in a Muggle part of town. "I mean, I don't exactly go around advertising who I'm seeing at any given point in time, and you if anyone--"
"Please," said Ginny dismissively, carrying a rucksack bulging at the seams with the same. "The Prophet may make everything about Harry, but I know better. And I have reliable sources."
Hermione nudged her elbow. "You've been spying on me?"
"Not you specifically, but camp can be a little dull and weird without you all," said Ginny with a shrug and a smirk. "The intelligence I receive just makes me feel closer to home."
"The intelligence you receive. Please," scoffed Hermione, though she couldn't help but be amused. "More like the gossip Luna and Neville bring you. Anyway," she added with a resolute inhale. "About--"
"--Yes. Of course it's fine. More than fine." said Ginny, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. "It was a long time ago and I'm not worried about it and you shouldn't be either. Knock yourself out."
Hermione made to answer but was cut off by a tinny, metallic tone that compelled Ginny to suddenly hold a finger up and demand, "Hold on." She pulled her mobile from her pocket, flicked it open, scrutinized the screen for a moment, then laughed before jabbing at the keys in turn.
"Interesting message, then?" said Hermione, annoyed, though studying Ginny's face, now lit by more than the wash of bluish light from the tiny screen.
"Heh. Tonks," Ginny said, still picking at keys.
"Oh?" Hermione said, smirking as she crossed her arms, suddenly sure she was for the most part nonexistent to her friend.
With a self-satisfied grin, Ginny hit the 'send' key and flipped the phone shut. "Yeah. She's looking for a status on our mission."
Hermione shifted to emphasize the bag hanging from her shoulder. "And did you tell her that we're done and on our way home with time to spare?"
"Hell, no," said Ginny emphatically. "Told her I'd rather share that sort of sensitive information in person."
Rolling her eyes skyward, Hermione set her hands on her hips. "Ginny. They just broke up last weekend."
"Pfft," said Ginny, waving it off in an unconscious imitation of Tonks. "That's been coming for practically forever. You know as well as I do they--"
"Still!" said Hermione, scandalized and yet impressed despite herself.
"Still nothing. Besides. She brought me chocolate and pet my foot and is dropping hints about a mile wide," said Ginny, arching an eyebrow at Hermione. "Chocolate, Hermione. The good kind."
"You are so easily bought," Hermione said, shaking her head with no real malice. "And you had better be sure about what you're doing, because a lot of friends could get hurt if you're wrong or--"
Lower lip in a full pout, eyes narrow, Ginny's mobile went off again and she held a hand up at Hermione to glance at the screen. "Hold that bitchy thought. Hello? Oh, hey, hi!"
Hermione watched the pout recede entirely, watched her go from petulant to snickering, hip-shifting, skin-crawly contentment in the space between one word and the next and dropped her hands back to the strap of her bag. Ginny agreed to meet Tonks and give the report over coffee and hung up.
"'Wrong or screwing around', is that where you were?" she asked Hermione, pout back in full effect.
"No," said Hermione, faintly amused. "No, I know you're not 'screwing around', now."
"Because, it's not like we're the most serious people in the world," Ginny went on. "Things go badly, we chalk it up to a bit of fun and move on."
"That's not going to happen either and you know it. You are so hung up on her, it's..." Hermione threw her hands up and exhaled a huge sigh.
"What?" asked Ginny, voice starting to crawl up a notch.
Hermione hugged her close for a moment, then pulled away and shook her head. "Familiar. And as much as I love her, too, there's not a question as to whose arse I kick if you get hurt this time. So don't." She didn't usually get involved in the romantic affairs of her closest friends, honestly, nor did she make idle threats. Hell, she normally wasn't involved in planning parties, much less involved in romantic affairs of her own. It'd just been a strange week.
Ginny stared at her, and didn't argue when Hermione took the bag off of Ginny's shoulder as well and said, "Go have coffee."
"Hermione--"
"Go."
"--Me too, yeah?"
"Yeah," Hermione grinned, jogged up three steps and into the darkened doorway of a closed shop and Disapparated.
###
"No, Lupin, and do not expect that to change," said Severus as he carried the things he had brought upstairs back down to the lab, expecting that Remus would follow. 'Mortified' was not the right word for how he felt about what he'd dared do and say, nor was 'shocked'. 'Disbelief' might cover it more ably. 'Embarrassed that he'd thought to indulge his fantasy with any sort of conscious action' was another.
"Can I help you with that?" Remus said as he did in fact follow, and Severus shook his head resolutely.
"I am fine, thank you," he said, biting off every syllable to make clear just how unnecessary the overture was.
"Am I allowed to express my thanks, at least?" said Remus as they reached the basement lab, the door opening automatically for Severus but requiring an extra word to allow Remus in as well.
"Belated though it may be, yes," muttered Severus, setting the things down onto a pristine work table and finally deigning to charm them to replace themselves properly.
"Thank you," said Remus, leaning against the doorframe. "You're going to make a lot of people laugh very hard, and on a day like tomorrow, they'll need it."
Severus wheeled on him. "Wonderful. I've always wanted to be a joke."
Remus had the nerve to look pained as he straightened up. "That's not--"
"You're welcome, Lupin," growled Severus, arms crossed tightly. "In case you missed it, that was your dismissal."
Jaw set tight, Remus nodded. "That it was," he said with the nerve to look... what was that? Hurt? Damnable wolf.
Severus said nothing further as Remus turned and retreated up the stairs, bracing his hands on the work table once he was out of sight, waiting until he heard the door shut upstairs before kicking it viciously until he heard something crack.
###