Secrets and Second Chances: Chapter Three
See Master Post for details.
Chapter Two
Secrets and Second Chances: Chapter Three
Harry woke to the smell of food wafting up the stairs. He rolled onto his back, blinking bleary eyes at the ceiling.
The Weasleys, he sorted through muddled thoughts. Is this - are my kids - he took in a sharp breath and covered his face with his hands. No, no, remember Harry. You went back, back to save them. To save everyone, remember, bloody hell. He rubbed at his face. Come on. Get your wits about you.
He let his hands drop. He could hear voices coming up the stairs. He had always loved the Weasley house - it was as different as possible from Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and orderly while the Weasley house burst with the strange and unexpected. It had been his ideal house for later in life, after he had married Ginny. Ginny, however, had had a much different idea in the layout of their home.
Living with Ginny and his children had been a little like living in the Burrow - but habits ingrained by his relatives did tend to make Harry a bit of a neat freak. Ginny was forever rolling her eyes at his constant cleaning. Harry never minded it - he had the more structured schedule of the two of them and he knew how tired Ginny was from practice all the time, when they were first married. Besides, Harry enjoyed cleaning - not that he would admit that except under torture.
Cleaning things at the Dursleys had been meant as a punishment, and yet, the way he chose to clean things had been entirely up to him. In a house full of strict rules and watchful eyes, his choice of how he cleaned the bathroom, which products he had wanted to use, what tools - all of that had been up to him. It was one of the few things in the Dursley household he had had control over - and that enjoyment endured.
The door opened, giving Harry a start. Fred poked his head in, wincing when he saw Harry’s startled expression. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Mum wanted to see if you were hungry.”
Harry’s stomach answered for him. “Starving,” Harry grinned.
Fred’s smile wavered, but he pushed the door open before Harry could ask. “Come on. Mum’s been cooking all afternoon.”
Harry grabbed his glasses and stumbled down the stairs after Fred. The whole Weasley family was gathered in the living room and around the kitchen table. Hermione and Neville were helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen as Ron and Ginny set the table.
“Harry, lad,” Mr. Weasley called. “Good, good, you’re up. I’ve just been having the most fascinating conversation with Hermione here about this Muggle postal service they have…”
And thus life at the Weasley house took off. Harry fielded Mr. Weasley’s questions about Muggle things all throughout dinner, Hermione helping him to explain them. Ron still glowered at them and Ginny turned red as a tomato every time Harry so much as glanced in her direction.
Needless to say, Harry had a bit of a headache by dinner’s end. He knew he also was worrying Mrs. Weasley with his small portions - still, Harry kept his meal light, not wanting to sick up in front of the Weasleys.
After dinner, Hermione and Neville absconded with him outside.
“Harry, we’ve been worried sick,” Hermione burst out once they were in the yard. “What happened? Why are you so - so - skinny!”
“My relatives are tight with money,” Harry settled onto the grass by the pond.
“But Harry…”
“It’s fine, Hermione.”
“It is not.”
“It will have to be,” Harry sighed. “No one will take me from the house, I know that. I’ll just have to plan better, is all.”
“What are you on about - of course we can get you out of there, Harry.”
“Hermione,” Harry pushed his bangs out of his eyes. “I can’t leave the house until I’ve spent two weeks under that roof every year.”
“But why?”
“Oh,” said Neville. “Oh, I see.”
Hermione whirled on him. “You see? What do you see? What?”
“Hermione,” Neville put a hand on her arm. “Calm down. It has to do with You-Know, ah…him.”
Hermione rocked back on her heels. “What do you mean?”
“You know about this?” Harry frowned at Neville.
“It’s the same for me,” Neville settled on the grass next to Harry. “It’s a protection, Hermione. A way to keep orphaned - or nearly orphaned - children of the wizarding world protected from the enemies of their parents.”
Hermione sank to the ground in front of them. “You - you both…”
Harry met Neville’s look. “My mum and dad were attacked, driven mad,” Neville fiddled with a blade of grass. “My gran snatched me up into her household so that I’d be protected from any other attempts on the family. It’s probably the same, only Harry’s got little direct blood-related family, so he went to his mother’s sister’s house.”
“Exactly,” Harry said. Neville sent him a small smile.
“But - but if Harry’s relatives are…”
“They’re fine,” Harry cut Hermione off. “Really, Hermione. Please. Let it drop. I’m out now and it’ll be fine.”
“But…”
“Gran would like you to come stay with us. You, too, Hermione, if you’d like,” Neville jumped in. “She let me come visit the twins for a few days, but I think she knew we were planning something.”
“I have to go home in a bit,” Hermione chewed on her lip. “Could I - I could stay for a few days, if that’s all right?”
“You would really want to?” Neville ducked his head.
“Of course I would!”
“I’m sure Gran would love to have you stay over. She quizzed me all about you all and how I kept my grades so good,” Neville looked proud. “She might even let Theo and Draco come over - well, maybe not Draco, but we can see.”
“That would be delightful!” Hermione perked up. “I tell you I had such a turn when Theo showed up at my door.”
“Do tell me about that,” Harry cut in. “Theo in the Muggle world. Really.”
“I know,” Hermione started to laugh. “We’d been exchanging owls, you know, mostly about the homework we were assigned - we’ll have to get started on that, you know - and then he asked me about Muggle maps and how to navigate a regular city. I didn’t even think about it - what would a wizard do with a Muggle map, really? And then, a few days later, there he was!”
Harry put a hand over his face as he laughed along with Neville.
“I do have to apologize, though,” Hermione sobered. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with that phone call, Harry.”
“You didn’t,” Harry was quick to assure her. “You just gave them a bit of turn.”
“But they sounded so mad.”
“They just yell. It’s all bark and no bite - unless Uncle Vernon’s sister is there with her dogs. They’re vicious.”
“Is that how you got that black eye?”
Harry winced, having forgotten all about it. “No. I got that because my cousin is a bloody prat.” He watched his friends exchange a long, silent look with dread.
“What was Theo there for, anyhow?” He prompted before the conversation could go places Harry wasn’t ready for.
Hermione let out a snort. “He wanted to see a television,” she rolled her eyes. “Remember when I was telling Draco about all the things Muggles have that wizards don’t? Apparently it made an impact - Draco couldn’t stop fuming about it, which got Theo interested, I guess.”
“Did he like it?” Neville asked. “I’ve never seen one, but now I kind of want to.”
“He was fascinated,” Hermione threw a hand in the air. “I had to stop him from trying to take it apart. Then he wanted to see all the other ‘Muggle contraptions’ as he called them. My mum was quite shocked - then she got a call and Theo almost leapt out of his skin!”
“How did you get my number?” It had been bugging Harry.
“Local directory,” Hermione gave him a smug smile. “I called up the operator, gave her the name and address of your relatives and she gave me the number.”
“Well done,” said Neville.
“Thank you,” she said.
Mrs. Weasley’s voice called them to come in for dessert. Harry trailed after his friends into the house, a small knot of warmth growing in his chest. I can do this, I can have my friends and my family and all of it. I can do this. I really can.
~*~
Harry was up before dawn. He slid out of the twins’ room on silent feet. In the kitchen he found Mrs. Weasley communing with what looked like her first cup of tea.
“Harry, dear,” she blinked at him. “Whatever are you doing up so early?”
“I’m an early riser,” Harry chewed on his lower lip as he edged closer to the woman. “I can help with breakfast, if you like. I’m very good at it.” Molly had forever been on Ginny to be a proper wife, he remembered. Harry sometimes thought Ginny’s flat refusal to cook anything more than toast came from her mother’s constant pressure. Harry had been more than happy to take up the duty. He liked cooking for his family. Even if he sometimes burnt the roast.
“Oh, no, no, you’re a guest,” Molly smiled at him. “Would you care for some tea?”
“Yes, please,” Harry slid into the chair next to her.
The morning was still and calm. The pink and purple sky brightened at a steady pace outside the window. In the Burrow, all was tranquil, the steam rising from Harry’s cup of strong, bitter tea as he watched the dawn.
Harry caught Molly giving him a few looks, but the woman seemed content to sit in silence with him as they sipped their tea.
Harry relished the chance. When he’d been older, married to Ginny and over for the holidays, he would slip out of bed early as well. Sometimes he would even beat Molly to the teapot - it became a sort of game over the years. They rarely talked during their morning, content instead to just enjoy the silence and the peace that the dawn brought over the house.
After a while, Harry began to hear the noise of people moving about the house. “Well, I should get started,” Molly finished off the last of her cup. “Sausages and hash, Harry?”
“Yes, please,” he watched as she patted the table once, then was out of the chair and off to work.
Harry spent the day with Neville, Hermione and the twins, generally running about the paddock as Fred and George showed them their favorite places around the Burrow. The few run-ins they had with Ron made Harry’s heart sink - the youngest Weasley male could hold a grudge like none other, Harry had to admit. Harry had just hoped that somehow Ron’s ire had lessened by the holiday break.
The next day, Neville’s grandmother came to pick them up. “My, my,” the elderly witch had said when she saw Harry and Hermione. “Yes, I do see what you mean, Molly.”
Harry exchanged a look with Neville, who shrugged.
“Well,” Mrs. Longbottom turned to them. “Off we go, then. Thank Mrs. Weasley, Neville, like a good lad.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Neville said, face going red.
“Thank you for letting us stay over,” Harry added. He added a smile and wave to the twins.
“Yes, thank you,” Hermione echoed.
“It’s good to see manners in today’s youth,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “We’ll be traveling by floo, dears. Do you know how?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said.
“What’s floo?” Hermione asked.
“A wizarding travel option, like the Underground, only faster,” Harry told her. He saw the adults staring and felt a flush creep up his neck. “I went with you and Neville to King’s Cross through the floo last year, ma’am, remember?”
“So you did,” Mrs. Longbottom pursed her lips. “And you are quite right, young man.”
“You must remember to speak clearly,” Mrs. Weasley added.
“Neville, demonstrate for them,” Mrs. Longbottom shooed him over to the fireplace.
“And you must remember to get out at the right gate - but if you’ve spoken clearly enough that shouldn’t be a problem. Merlin, to lose one of you in the system…Your relatives would be furious.”
“Mine wouldn’t mind,” Harry said as Neville took a pinch of the floo powder and tossed it into the flames. “Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don’t worry about that.”
There was a moment of silence and then Neville called out, “Longbottom Hollow!” And he was gone.
“Oh, my,” Hermione breathed. “Look at that.”
“Now, you next, young Harry,” Molly said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said.
“Make sure to keep your elbows tucked in, and your eyes shut as much as you can. The soot does get everywhere.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry repeated and took a pinch of powder from the offered flowerpot. He tossed it into the flames, watching them turn green. He stepped in. “Longbottom Hollow!” he enunciated
Harry had never liked floo travel. It felt as though he was being sucked down against a drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast - the roaring in his ears was deafening. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the whirl of green flames made him nauseous. He squinted through his glasses at the rush of fireplaces, until, finally, he was shot out at the right one.
“Merlin,” Harry muttered into the soot-covered hearthstone.
“Here,” Neville gave him a hand up. The other boy had a stiff brush for Harry’s clothes.
Harry stepped off the hearth just tine time for Hermione to arrive. The witch was not pleased by the ride. “I hit my elbow!” she exclaimed as Neville helped her up.
“That’s why you have to keep them tucked in,” he said.
“That is dangerous.”
“Not really.”
“But,” Hermione was cut off by Mrs. Longbottom’s arrival.
“Well, enough of that,” Neville’s Gran said. “Come along. I’ll show you your rooms. Molly is sending your things through, now.”
Harry heard the roar of the floo as they followed the woman out of the room. Harry had never been to Neville’s house before. He had always assumed it was just another house, much like any other house Harry had seen in the wizarding world. Harry had forgotten, though, that the Longbottom family was pure-blood.
The Longbottom Hollow wasn’t opulent like the Malfoy estate, but Harry counted a number of large rooms on the ground floor before they went up the paneled oak stairs. Large animated paintings dominated the walls, mostly hunting scenes, but a few portraits were scattered here and there.
The upstairs hall had a long stretch of dark wood floors covered by a dark red and blue runner. Curio tables claimed the wall space between doors, filled with expensive-looking knickknacks and other delicate porcelains Harry was afraid to touch.
Harry ended up sharing Neville’s room while Hermione got the guest room. Harry took in the space - Neville was Quidditch crazy like the Weasleys. He had a few pictures on the wall, mostly of his family. A large bookcase was dominated by books on plants and a series of popular children’s books from the wizarding world.
“Gran will have us down for supper soon,” Neville said. “Then I - I could show you and Hermione the greenhouses, if you like?”
“That would be wonderful,” Harry told the other boy. “Come on, let’s get Hermione.”
Part Two
Chapter Two
Secrets and Second Chances: Chapter Three
Harry woke to the smell of food wafting up the stairs. He rolled onto his back, blinking bleary eyes at the ceiling.
The Weasleys, he sorted through muddled thoughts. Is this - are my kids - he took in a sharp breath and covered his face with his hands. No, no, remember Harry. You went back, back to save them. To save everyone, remember, bloody hell. He rubbed at his face. Come on. Get your wits about you.
He let his hands drop. He could hear voices coming up the stairs. He had always loved the Weasley house - it was as different as possible from Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and orderly while the Weasley house burst with the strange and unexpected. It had been his ideal house for later in life, after he had married Ginny. Ginny, however, had had a much different idea in the layout of their home.
Living with Ginny and his children had been a little like living in the Burrow - but habits ingrained by his relatives did tend to make Harry a bit of a neat freak. Ginny was forever rolling her eyes at his constant cleaning. Harry never minded it - he had the more structured schedule of the two of them and he knew how tired Ginny was from practice all the time, when they were first married. Besides, Harry enjoyed cleaning - not that he would admit that except under torture.
Cleaning things at the Dursleys had been meant as a punishment, and yet, the way he chose to clean things had been entirely up to him. In a house full of strict rules and watchful eyes, his choice of how he cleaned the bathroom, which products he had wanted to use, what tools - all of that had been up to him. It was one of the few things in the Dursley household he had had control over - and that enjoyment endured.
The door opened, giving Harry a start. Fred poked his head in, wincing when he saw Harry’s startled expression. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Mum wanted to see if you were hungry.”
Harry’s stomach answered for him. “Starving,” Harry grinned.
Fred’s smile wavered, but he pushed the door open before Harry could ask. “Come on. Mum’s been cooking all afternoon.”
Harry grabbed his glasses and stumbled down the stairs after Fred. The whole Weasley family was gathered in the living room and around the kitchen table. Hermione and Neville were helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen as Ron and Ginny set the table.
“Harry, lad,” Mr. Weasley called. “Good, good, you’re up. I’ve just been having the most fascinating conversation with Hermione here about this Muggle postal service they have…”
And thus life at the Weasley house took off. Harry fielded Mr. Weasley’s questions about Muggle things all throughout dinner, Hermione helping him to explain them. Ron still glowered at them and Ginny turned red as a tomato every time Harry so much as glanced in her direction.
Needless to say, Harry had a bit of a headache by dinner’s end. He knew he also was worrying Mrs. Weasley with his small portions - still, Harry kept his meal light, not wanting to sick up in front of the Weasleys.
After dinner, Hermione and Neville absconded with him outside.
“Harry, we’ve been worried sick,” Hermione burst out once they were in the yard. “What happened? Why are you so - so - skinny!”
“My relatives are tight with money,” Harry settled onto the grass by the pond.
“But Harry…”
“It’s fine, Hermione.”
“It is not.”
“It will have to be,” Harry sighed. “No one will take me from the house, I know that. I’ll just have to plan better, is all.”
“What are you on about - of course we can get you out of there, Harry.”
“Hermione,” Harry pushed his bangs out of his eyes. “I can’t leave the house until I’ve spent two weeks under that roof every year.”
“But why?”
“Oh,” said Neville. “Oh, I see.”
Hermione whirled on him. “You see? What do you see? What?”
“Hermione,” Neville put a hand on her arm. “Calm down. It has to do with You-Know, ah…him.”
Hermione rocked back on her heels. “What do you mean?”
“You know about this?” Harry frowned at Neville.
“It’s the same for me,” Neville settled on the grass next to Harry. “It’s a protection, Hermione. A way to keep orphaned - or nearly orphaned - children of the wizarding world protected from the enemies of their parents.”
Hermione sank to the ground in front of them. “You - you both…”
Harry met Neville’s look. “My mum and dad were attacked, driven mad,” Neville fiddled with a blade of grass. “My gran snatched me up into her household so that I’d be protected from any other attempts on the family. It’s probably the same, only Harry’s got little direct blood-related family, so he went to his mother’s sister’s house.”
“Exactly,” Harry said. Neville sent him a small smile.
“But - but if Harry’s relatives are…”
“They’re fine,” Harry cut Hermione off. “Really, Hermione. Please. Let it drop. I’m out now and it’ll be fine.”
“But…”
“Gran would like you to come stay with us. You, too, Hermione, if you’d like,” Neville jumped in. “She let me come visit the twins for a few days, but I think she knew we were planning something.”
“I have to go home in a bit,” Hermione chewed on her lip. “Could I - I could stay for a few days, if that’s all right?”
“You would really want to?” Neville ducked his head.
“Of course I would!”
“I’m sure Gran would love to have you stay over. She quizzed me all about you all and how I kept my grades so good,” Neville looked proud. “She might even let Theo and Draco come over - well, maybe not Draco, but we can see.”
“That would be delightful!” Hermione perked up. “I tell you I had such a turn when Theo showed up at my door.”
“Do tell me about that,” Harry cut in. “Theo in the Muggle world. Really.”
“I know,” Hermione started to laugh. “We’d been exchanging owls, you know, mostly about the homework we were assigned - we’ll have to get started on that, you know - and then he asked me about Muggle maps and how to navigate a regular city. I didn’t even think about it - what would a wizard do with a Muggle map, really? And then, a few days later, there he was!”
Harry put a hand over his face as he laughed along with Neville.
“I do have to apologize, though,” Hermione sobered. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with that phone call, Harry.”
“You didn’t,” Harry was quick to assure her. “You just gave them a bit of turn.”
“But they sounded so mad.”
“They just yell. It’s all bark and no bite - unless Uncle Vernon’s sister is there with her dogs. They’re vicious.”
“Is that how you got that black eye?”
Harry winced, having forgotten all about it. “No. I got that because my cousin is a bloody prat.” He watched his friends exchange a long, silent look with dread.
“What was Theo there for, anyhow?” He prompted before the conversation could go places Harry wasn’t ready for.
Hermione let out a snort. “He wanted to see a television,” she rolled her eyes. “Remember when I was telling Draco about all the things Muggles have that wizards don’t? Apparently it made an impact - Draco couldn’t stop fuming about it, which got Theo interested, I guess.”
“Did he like it?” Neville asked. “I’ve never seen one, but now I kind of want to.”
“He was fascinated,” Hermione threw a hand in the air. “I had to stop him from trying to take it apart. Then he wanted to see all the other ‘Muggle contraptions’ as he called them. My mum was quite shocked - then she got a call and Theo almost leapt out of his skin!”
“How did you get my number?” It had been bugging Harry.
“Local directory,” Hermione gave him a smug smile. “I called up the operator, gave her the name and address of your relatives and she gave me the number.”
“Well done,” said Neville.
“Thank you,” she said.
Mrs. Weasley’s voice called them to come in for dessert. Harry trailed after his friends into the house, a small knot of warmth growing in his chest. I can do this, I can have my friends and my family and all of it. I can do this. I really can.
~*~
Harry was up before dawn. He slid out of the twins’ room on silent feet. In the kitchen he found Mrs. Weasley communing with what looked like her first cup of tea.
“Harry, dear,” she blinked at him. “Whatever are you doing up so early?”
“I’m an early riser,” Harry chewed on his lower lip as he edged closer to the woman. “I can help with breakfast, if you like. I’m very good at it.” Molly had forever been on Ginny to be a proper wife, he remembered. Harry sometimes thought Ginny’s flat refusal to cook anything more than toast came from her mother’s constant pressure. Harry had been more than happy to take up the duty. He liked cooking for his family. Even if he sometimes burnt the roast.
“Oh, no, no, you’re a guest,” Molly smiled at him. “Would you care for some tea?”
“Yes, please,” Harry slid into the chair next to her.
The morning was still and calm. The pink and purple sky brightened at a steady pace outside the window. In the Burrow, all was tranquil, the steam rising from Harry’s cup of strong, bitter tea as he watched the dawn.
Harry caught Molly giving him a few looks, but the woman seemed content to sit in silence with him as they sipped their tea.
Harry relished the chance. When he’d been older, married to Ginny and over for the holidays, he would slip out of bed early as well. Sometimes he would even beat Molly to the teapot - it became a sort of game over the years. They rarely talked during their morning, content instead to just enjoy the silence and the peace that the dawn brought over the house.
After a while, Harry began to hear the noise of people moving about the house. “Well, I should get started,” Molly finished off the last of her cup. “Sausages and hash, Harry?”
“Yes, please,” he watched as she patted the table once, then was out of the chair and off to work.
Harry spent the day with Neville, Hermione and the twins, generally running about the paddock as Fred and George showed them their favorite places around the Burrow. The few run-ins they had with Ron made Harry’s heart sink - the youngest Weasley male could hold a grudge like none other, Harry had to admit. Harry had just hoped that somehow Ron’s ire had lessened by the holiday break.
The next day, Neville’s grandmother came to pick them up. “My, my,” the elderly witch had said when she saw Harry and Hermione. “Yes, I do see what you mean, Molly.”
Harry exchanged a look with Neville, who shrugged.
“Well,” Mrs. Longbottom turned to them. “Off we go, then. Thank Mrs. Weasley, Neville, like a good lad.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Neville said, face going red.
“Thank you for letting us stay over,” Harry added. He added a smile and wave to the twins.
“Yes, thank you,” Hermione echoed.
“It’s good to see manners in today’s youth,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “We’ll be traveling by floo, dears. Do you know how?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said.
“What’s floo?” Hermione asked.
“A wizarding travel option, like the Underground, only faster,” Harry told her. He saw the adults staring and felt a flush creep up his neck. “I went with you and Neville to King’s Cross through the floo last year, ma’am, remember?”
“So you did,” Mrs. Longbottom pursed her lips. “And you are quite right, young man.”
“You must remember to speak clearly,” Mrs. Weasley added.
“Neville, demonstrate for them,” Mrs. Longbottom shooed him over to the fireplace.
“And you must remember to get out at the right gate - but if you’ve spoken clearly enough that shouldn’t be a problem. Merlin, to lose one of you in the system…Your relatives would be furious.”
“Mine wouldn’t mind,” Harry said as Neville took a pinch of the floo powder and tossed it into the flames. “Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don’t worry about that.”
There was a moment of silence and then Neville called out, “Longbottom Hollow!” And he was gone.
“Oh, my,” Hermione breathed. “Look at that.”
“Now, you next, young Harry,” Molly said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said.
“Make sure to keep your elbows tucked in, and your eyes shut as much as you can. The soot does get everywhere.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry repeated and took a pinch of powder from the offered flowerpot. He tossed it into the flames, watching them turn green. He stepped in. “Longbottom Hollow!” he enunciated
Harry had never liked floo travel. It felt as though he was being sucked down against a drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast - the roaring in his ears was deafening. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the whirl of green flames made him nauseous. He squinted through his glasses at the rush of fireplaces, until, finally, he was shot out at the right one.
“Merlin,” Harry muttered into the soot-covered hearthstone.
“Here,” Neville gave him a hand up. The other boy had a stiff brush for Harry’s clothes.
Harry stepped off the hearth just tine time for Hermione to arrive. The witch was not pleased by the ride. “I hit my elbow!” she exclaimed as Neville helped her up.
“That’s why you have to keep them tucked in,” he said.
“That is dangerous.”
“Not really.”
“But,” Hermione was cut off by Mrs. Longbottom’s arrival.
“Well, enough of that,” Neville’s Gran said. “Come along. I’ll show you your rooms. Molly is sending your things through, now.”
Harry heard the roar of the floo as they followed the woman out of the room. Harry had never been to Neville’s house before. He had always assumed it was just another house, much like any other house Harry had seen in the wizarding world. Harry had forgotten, though, that the Longbottom family was pure-blood.
The Longbottom Hollow wasn’t opulent like the Malfoy estate, but Harry counted a number of large rooms on the ground floor before they went up the paneled oak stairs. Large animated paintings dominated the walls, mostly hunting scenes, but a few portraits were scattered here and there.
The upstairs hall had a long stretch of dark wood floors covered by a dark red and blue runner. Curio tables claimed the wall space between doors, filled with expensive-looking knickknacks and other delicate porcelains Harry was afraid to touch.
Harry ended up sharing Neville’s room while Hermione got the guest room. Harry took in the space - Neville was Quidditch crazy like the Weasleys. He had a few pictures on the wall, mostly of his family. A large bookcase was dominated by books on plants and a series of popular children’s books from the wizarding world.
“Gran will have us down for supper soon,” Neville said. “Then I - I could show you and Hermione the greenhouses, if you like?”
“That would be wonderful,” Harry told the other boy. “Come on, let’s get Hermione.”
Part Two