Grow Where You're Planted

[safinnigan]

Date: Friday, 21 July, 2000
Time: Noon
Place: St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Characters Involved: Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom, Private
Rating: G
Complete or Incomplete: Complete

Comments

[safinnigan]

Seamus gratefully gave the large stack of Prophet’s to Neville, glad to see them go in a place headed for the compost heap.

He followed Neville to the back room at the far end of the greenhouse, carefully avoiding anything that might look like a blueberry plant that fought back on the way. He cringed at the very idea when Neville was telling him about it. Bad enough they had evil humans and werewolves to deal with. A wizard shouldn’t have to fight with his own plants.

“Aye, Nev, best be waiting for that brute’s favourite tender ‘fore it wins the next battle then.”

He set the take away package on the table, taking out his wand and tapping it to restore it to it’s proper size and consistency. Then he smiled and started opening it and taking out containers. “Well then, mate, Cook was in a good mood today so there’s lots of treats to be had then. Fish and Chips is the special of a Friday, so’s I got two orders of that then for us, with an extra side of chips, two side salads, and a brace of Butterbeers.” He’d been setting everything out on the table as he spoke, including utensils, napkins and he opened two Butterbeers for them to start on. Then he spotted the last thing in the package.

“Right, can’t have a barman’s holiday picnic without dessert. Brought us Stinking bishop, Shropshire blue, Quickes cheddar, chutney & biscuits.” He winked at Neville and sat down at the table.

“Take a load off, mate, and tell us how you’re bearing up then, lad.” Seamus took a draw on his Butterbeer and started in on his fish, waiting for Neville tell him as much as he wished about how he was doing. It would lay the groundwork for what Seamus had come here to ask, so he was hopeful that Neville would feel comfortable talking to him about it.

[forevernev]

If Neville truly had his way, he would tackle the problem on his own. Perhaps Stun the plant and grab as much fruit as possible before the spell wore off. The Gryffindor in him refused to back down, but he also had to consider the fact that Jeremy had seniority, and therefore, was more entitled to the task.

"It'll have to be soon, though. There's only a slim amount of time when the juice is viable. I hope Monday won't be too late."

Neville watched as Seamus started to set their meals on the breakroom table, and his eyes widened considerably as Seamus kept removing things from his take away pack. "Merlin, it's...it's a feast!" he stammered, tugging a chair out and plunking himself into it. "You said lunch, I figured you'd meant a pair of sandwiches or something, but..."

His stare was fixed on the food, as intense and unbelieving as a Hogwarts student at his first Sorting Feast. He finally let out a soft chuckle and helped himself to the Butterbeer first, raising it towards Seamus in a quick toast. "Thanks, mate. Y'know, I don't deserve this, really. Feel I ought to hand you a few sickles for the trouble." He stabbed a couple of chips with his fork and ate. "I'm sorry I haven't been to the Leaky lately. They've got us running ragged up here. Has it been the same at the pub? Seems as if everyone's on edge. I...I don't blame them, though."

[safinnigan]

Seamus just smiled back at his surprised friend. Then he reached out his Butterbeer to clink it against Neville’s in salute to their friendship.

“Well now, think nothing of it then, Neville, mate. If you canst be after getting a decent lunch from your mate that works in a pub, then you’re lost indeed!” He laughed and took another drink from his Butterbeer, winking when Nev asked about contributing. “Right, be easy with Seamus, Nev, ‘tis the daily special we’re enjoying, not dinner with the Minister! “ His laugh at that died on his lips. He’d have to think of a replacement for that example right quick before it curdled his lunch in his stomach.

“Neville lad, not to worry about stopping in at The Leaky. ‘Tis my place of employment, not the love of me life now.” He briefly added to himself, “That’s Luna,” but said nothing more of that to Neville.

“Aye mate, some are on edge after that last nasty Greyback business. Total fecking wanker, that sadist. Going after a Weasley cousin.” He shook his head sadly, but then shook off the feeling and added, “You’ve your own reasons to be on edge then, Nev. Howya holding up, mate?” He sampled some more of the fish, and sat back drinking his Butterbeer and waiting for Neville’s reply and paying careful attention. If Neville really did not wish to talk, then Seamus would not press him. It did not bode well for the reason he’d come if Neville was not interested in talking about their mutual and shared experiences and other pertinent things about their lives.

[forevernev]

It was difficult not to wince when Seamus mentioned dinner with the Minister, even when Neville was fully aware it was meant as a joke. Nothing concerning Shingleton felt funny any more, not with Death Eaters on the loose. The situation seemed worse than when Fudge had the position. At least Fudge was just ineffectual. Neville couldn't help but wonder if Shingleton had some hidden motives behind it all: the Registry, then the pardon of Lucius Malfoy, and the release of Bellatrix Lestrange. Or perhaps working within the Order had just made him paranoid.

"Well, the Leaky's the easiest place where I can speak with you, for a start," Neville said, trying to explain his line of reasoning. "The Order meeting wasn't the right place for it. Maybe the pub isn't right, either."

He cut one of the battered pieces of fish with the side of his fork and tucked into it, rather enjoying the mixture of crisp and tender in his mouth.

"I'd only heard about the latest attack second-hand. The nurses like to gossip and natter on about things. I...I very nearly thought it was Ginny." He shook his head at his horrible mistake and tried to suppress a nervous laugh, a sound of relief amid his very real worries about the Weasley family now. "I'd forgotten she's in training somewhere else, and when I didn't see her in the hospital..." He shrugged, no words would sufficiently explain how he felt.

"I've just been trying to be more careful. Wards on the doors and windows of the flat, always making sure there 're people nearby just in case. Sort of feels like the war never ended, y'know? Just switched itself 'round a bit."

[safinnigan]

“Aye, mate, if it had been Ginny…..” Seamus shook his head sadly, that thought was beyond comprehension. He’d not known she was out of town studying until he'd seen the note from her brothers, but that made sense since he’d not seen her around The Leaky in quite a while. “Right, training elsewhere. Well then, let’s hope she’s being right proper careful then, Nev. Right, enough that her brother’s been bothered by the madman.”

“Aye, Nev, have extra care then at home and here then.” Seamus wondered if he should mention to Neville how little he felt the “increased protection” here at St. Mungo’s would really help him in the case of a serious attack. Perhaps he would mention it later, if Neville was willing to talk about other things.

“Aye, mate, been back home to Kenmare every day this week strengthening wards for me Mum and me Da then. Canst be too careful with those that we love, no matter how far they may seem from harm. Right, learned that in the war, then, didn’t we, lad? Learned it the hard way. Well then, some days it seems truer now than it was even then.” Seamus helped himself to some chips and some Butterbeer before he continued.

“Aye, Neville, that’s partly why I was after your advice as me mate then. Came here today to see you and your flora,” he waved his Butterbeer towards the greenhouse behind them, “but also to ask if you’d been having any troubles on account of the war now that it’s long ended.” He took a deep breath, this was what he’d come here to say, so he might as well say it. “Right, been having more than a wee bit of trouble with sleeping and nightmares meself, and wondered if you’d done the same?”

[forevernev]

"Bill..." he answered in a whisper. Despite the pair being alone, it still felt odd to discuss these things. Some plants were highly sensitive to sound, and some, if prodded, would even parrot what they picked up. Not that there were any of those species in the greenhouse (and not that they'd overhear them behind the closed door), of course, but it didn't hurt to be too careful. It was true that Greyback had attacked Ginny's older brother (and quite savagely besides), but Neville loathed to think that there was a sort of pattern to the madness.

"The Ministry seems cautious with the Weasley family at least. Did you see at the Order meeting, how they all had Aurors tagging alongside them?" He silently wondered how influential a family must be in order to obtain an Auror guard. True, none of his family had been attacked, yet. Did it really take a death to get the Ministry to act? Wasn't the loss of his parents enough? "Maybe the Ministry finally believes the Registry's not enough? I mean, Greyback ought to be on it, right? Along with the werewolf registry and that hasn't stopped him."

He was in the middle of another mouthful of fish when Seamus asked his question. His chewing slowed down as he pondered it, though in the end he had to shake his head. "No. Not lately, no. Sorry, Seamus. Used to have terrible nightmares before, though. You remember when Bellatrix Lestrange was captured? I couldn't sleep for ages afterwards. It was odd cos I'd figured that was the end of it, y'know? Thought that her being in Azkaban'd help me deal with--well...I'd ended up drinking a tea mixture I'd concocted just so I could rest. You're still having them? The dreams I mean?"

[safinnigan]

Seamus nodded as Neville quietly said Bill Weasley’s name. What more was there to say? Greyback’s attack was vicious. There had to be some relationship if Bill’s cousin had been attacked and all of the victims had red hair. He shuddered to think about it. He was no expert on werewolves, but it was clear there had to be some danger to the Weasleys, some pattern by Greyback that made sense to him, if not to Seamus.

When Neville brought up the aurors that had accompanied all of the Weasleys to the Order of the Phoenix meeting, Seamus nodded again. “Aye, mate, hard to miss that. Right uncommon to see that many aurors in one place, and each with a person with red hair. Well then, ‘tis glad I am to see they have so much protection, but ‘tis sorry I am that they need it.”

Neville’s next words about the Registry brought out a bitterness and a visceral reaction that Seamus would rather have kept to himself, but he felt too comfortable with his old friend and tower mate Neville to dissemble. “Right. The bloody fecking Registry should be Greyback, LeStrange, and those known to be dangerous to us, mate! Nothing but bloody fecking Ministry wankers trying to make themselves look like they’ve got it all together, when they couldn’t find their fecking bloody arses with both hands!” Seamus just shook his head at the idea that the Werewolf Registry would stop the bloodthirsty activities of Greyback, but he took a deep breath and tried to respond less vehemently. “Well then, lad, they can’t be after Registering what they can’t find, now can they?” He finished off his Butterbeer and opened another one. There was so little alcohol in Butterbeer, he wished he’d brought some Arthurs instead.

He smiled sympathetically at Neville’s response to his question about the nightmares. “Aye, Nev, sounds like you’ve already been through what’s plaguing this Seamus now.” He took a swig from his Butterbeer and sighed. “Right, leastwise I can hope that there’s an end to it, mate. Well then, got me a sleeping potion from Mr. Jiggers in Diagon Alley, worked like a charm for the two weeks I took it, but he warned me ‘gainst using it longer, saying that consulting a healer’d be best after that should the sleep still evade me.” He sighed and took another drink. “Right, consult I did, but the healer suggested I find mates to talk to about it, might be a help to us all. Now, Harry and Ron, they’ve got Hermione and each other now don’t they? So’s I figured I'd be after asking you. Glad to hear that you’re past it then Nev, mate. Gives a bloke hope there’s an end to it.” He winked at Neville and ate some more of his lunch, wondering who else there was in this post-war madness that he trusted enough to discuss this.

[forevernev]

"It's almost as if the Ministry's given up on tracking the werewolf down, and they're just waiting for the inevitable, doesn't it? Posting those Aurors with the Weasleys instead of setting them to work finding Greyback." And Merlin help the ones who didn't have the public presence of the Weasley family.

He was initially startled by Seamus' passionate reply, and nearly knocked his bottle of Butterbeer on its side with his flinching elbow. Not that he disagreed with it, but Neville wasn't the sort of person who wore his heart on his sleeve. He'd be more bemused by circumstances than rage angrily against them. "Seems like the Ministry Registry's about as effective as the Werewolf one. It's only alright if the people agree to be tagged and tracked. Greyback's cleverer than that." He had only faced Fenrir once, during the Death Eater invasion of Hogwarts in his sixth year, and Neville suffered for it. He was pretty positive it was the werewolf who knocked the wind out of him, caused him to topple over in excruciating pain. And he was probably lucky that Greyback wasn't in his wolf form then.

"Well, those sorts of sleeping draughts can be a bit addictive," Neville said, knowing enough about herbology that the effects of ingesting certain plants could lead to dependence on them to get through one's day. "It isn't easy to muddle through it, Seamus. I...I ended up having to go back home, living with Gran again. That helped loads, being in a familiar place. And with family. You might try it yourself, take a bit of time off. Go on holiday and see if it helps?" He wasn't sure the advice was what Seamus actually needed, but it worked, at least for him. But since Neville didn't know what had caused the nightmares in the first place (and he was much too wary to ask Seamus outright), he kept his doubts to himself.

[safinnigan]

Seamus finished up his fish and sat back with his Butterbeer in hand. What Nev said made a great deal of sense. Too much sense, and it made Seamus wonder if the Ministry was even more incompetent than he feared. “Aye, Nev, you’ve the right of it there, mate!” He mused a bit. “Well then, if the Order of the Phoenix can’t find Greyback, I suppose there’s no reason to believe that the Ministry of Magic, that was of no use during a bloody fecking war, can be of any use now either.” It was so true it made him sick to his stomach to think about it. He knew there was no sure way to protect against a werewolf.

“Right mate, if you were going to look for Greyback, where would you look?” He watched Neville closely. Neville had a knack, a knack of knowing the right of things when others didn’t.

“The Ministry’s a travesty, Nev. Right, ‘less of course you feel safer having lunch with this Seamus knowing he’s on it.” Seamus just grinned at Neville. He didn’t know if Neville knew he was on the Registry or not, but it didn’t really matter. The fact that it was a travesty didn’t rely on whether you were on it or not.

“Aye, mate! Mr. Jiggers warned me about it becoming addictive and that it could have other, more drastic side-effects.” He took another drink of his Butterbeer. “Well then, prolonged use could leave a man feeling less than up to the task,” here Seamus paused, laughed and gave Nev a big wink, he was not about to risk that kind of side effect for any potion. “Right, there were plenty of other side effects, too. The healer said I might make use of it on occasion, but it’s not the way to resolve my dreams about the final battle. Too real, mate, too bloody real they are.” He shook his head and took another sip. He felt sad that Neville wasn’t going to be a former soldier that he could talk to about this, but he was just glad that Neville had already resolved his own trauma. Hopefully LeStrange being back on the streets wouldn’t change that.

“Aye, Nev, family helps, that’s to be sure. Well then, I went back to Kenmare to visit and my folks were good about helping this Seamus. Still, my life is here, not in Kenmare. Change of scene is a good idea, though. The healer suggested I move and I’m moving house to a bigger flat in The Leaky soon.” He’d have to discuss that with Luna. They really had not had a chance to talk about it much yet. “Right, a vacation might be a good thing, too. Hadn’t considered that, mate! Thanks for the suggestion!” He smiled broadly at Neville and winked. If he was going on vacation, he wouldn't be going alone.

[forevernev]

"Where'd Greyback be?" He'd started to peel the label off his Butterbeer bottle without noticing he was doing it. It had begun to shred on his fingernails, leaving behind tiny fragments of paper wet with condensation. He rubbed his fingers against the opposite sleeve, leaving behind odd white tracks caught on the fabric. "Well, for one thing, I wouldn't be the one who'd be out searching for him. Not alone, anyroad." He chuckled nervously, an oddly light sound amid the serious conversation. "If he can't be tracked down by Ministry folk, then there's only one thing that'd explain it. Someone in the Ministry's hiding him. Same as with Bellatrix, I think." He held back spouting off more by swallowing a good deal of Butterbeer. "Someone's responsible for Lucius Malfoy's pardon as well. I haven't read his book. Don't feel a need to, really. I know what he's capable of. I've seen it. No amount of excuses can forgive him for it, but he's done well anyway." Neville sighed resignedly. "It's a sodding joke of a world we're living in now."

He didn't mean to sound so pessimistic, but when their talk turned towards the darker side of the post-war wizarding world, he couldn't help it. He eyed Seamus carefully as he implied he was on the Registry as well. Did he tell Neville once and had he forgotten? Best not to pursue that, he thought. It sounded too messy and much too personal.

"Side effects? Like wha--?" He snapped his mouth shut, the explanation silently dawning on him. Oooohh...well, that was certainly something any bloke wouldn't enjoy losing. Not that he had much experience with--

But why was his mind fixated on it?

"Real. I know what you mean. The nightmares." He cleared his throat, the bubbly Butterbeer making it slightly difficult to speak. "Every night, it was--Merlin, it was always just her and me. Horrible. I'd given up on sleeping after the third night..." And afterwards? Afterwards, he couldn't quite remember, though he recalled enough to know that Gran's firm hand had some positive effect on him. Did Seamus had someone similar? His mum? "Where'd you reckon you'd go on holiday?"

[safinnigan]

Seamus watched closely and listened intently as Neville spoke about Greyback. There it was. The boyo had a knack - and a good one! Seamus nodded his agreement at every turn of phrase from his insightful friend. The conclusions he was drawing rang true for Seamus, although he’d not considered it in quite that way before.

“Aye, mate. Well now, protection from within the Ministry of Magic makes a great deal of sense then, Nev. Right, the bloody place canst be all corrupt; Tonks works there and she’s me own brill mucker and a right proper auror, too. Right then, too easy by half to blame the whole fecking lot.” He determined right then and there to ask Tonks about it. Then he remembered that she was assigned to be Charlie’s minder, or his paid live-in girlfriend, or drinking partner, or whatever it was the two of them were playing at while she acted as his own personal auror.

“As to Malfoy, the fecking bucket of snots, we know his book’s got to be the best truth that money could buy. This Irish boyo’s no need to add to that wanker’s wealth by sucking it up like the rest.” He took a sip of his Butterbeer. “Right, we may be the last two blokes in wizarding London not sucked in by that King of the Buskers.” Then he laughed and winked at Nev. “Making that prat son of his the Burk of the Realm, right boyo?” He laughed, but it was cut short by Neville’s summary of the whole thing.

“Aye, mate, if you’re after feeling that way, then he’s halfway won, Nev.” He shook his head and smiled. “You’ve got the right of it for politics, Nev, but that’s only one part o’ the picture then lad. Right, a man’s got to find his own happiness now, just as then and always, mate. Still goodness out there, just harder to find it. Leastwise there’s not a raging wall o’ Death Eaters out there waiting to pounce, so’s a man can seek it in peace.”

He was glad Neville understood about the nightmares. From the look on his face, he understood them all too well. Still, Seamus had no wish to cause his friend harm, or do anything that might bring them back into Nev’s life. So he was just as glad when Neville changed the subject.

“Well then, where? Got no idea, mate. Any suggestions?”

[forevernev]

"Well, I didn't mean Tonks, and she seems to be worse off than the rest of us." He'd started to scrape the sides and bottom of his food container with the edge of his fork, gathering up the final bits of his lunch for a few more mouthfuls. "Can't control who she works for, can she? I figure she's still an Auror cos she does her job well, doesn't make her Department Head suspicious. Except we know who she'll always side with, right?"

He couldn't argue with Seamus' summing up of Lucius Malfoy. The man had written a very convincing book. From what Neville could understand of it (and this was from bits and pieces of his coworkers and the nurses talking about "that poor, poor man" who was "cornered and didn't know what to do"), the memoir had an apologetic tone of someone resigned to his fate who needed to protect and support his family. Since Neville hadn't read the thing, he didn't know if it was true, but most of St. Mungos Tea Room staff was already assured of Malfoy's "innocence." "Truth or not, everyone's talking about it. Makes me a bit ill just thinking about it."

"I suppose you're right," he said, his fingertip tracing a trail of condensation down his Butterbeer bottle. "But is there nothing we can do except sit about centering on our own lives? It's a bit worse than during the war. We were careful, then, cos we knew they were out there, but now? I think they're still lurking about. It's just harder for us to see the dangers."

"It depends on where you'd want to go, I suppose." He sat back in his chair, eyes raised to the ceiling. The gesture helped him concentrate and think about things. "How d'you feel about the seaside? Or roller coasters? 'Cos I'd suggest Blackpool if you don't mind them. My family's gone there on holiday every summer for as long as I can remember."