Rebuild What's Gone Unsteady (2/4)
Title: Rebuild What's Gone Unsteady
Author: LilyAyl
Rating: PG
Beta: attempt-unique (thank you!!!)
Notes: The title is from 'People Get Ready' by The Frames. I was lost and without title, but my beta saved me with a song. This story is set within a universe I am sharing with whatifisaidno.
Warnings: None.
And what has gone between us
Is a lot, is a lot
~The Frames
The Second Anniversary of the Battle at Hogwarts
May 2nd, 2000
Minerva examined the partially-filled list Neville had given her. Though he was still far from filling every position, he had accomplished more than she'd expected. The people listed were all young, which did concern her, but youth was hardly a dire enough fault to require comment. Especially since the war had ensured that few people were truly young anymore. Lisa Turpin she remembered vaguely. The girl had never cared much for wand work, preferring Potions. She had heard Severus mention her name once or twice, but no one else. Adrian Pucey was promising. She remembered him sending around a petition to replace Sibyl. Pansy Parkinson, however, could prove problematic.
"Are you sure?" Minerva asked, looking up at Neville.
"Hogwarts should set an example, I think." Minerva raised a brow and looked back at the list. She was uncomfortable with the idea that Hogwarts should be a leader for a their world. A school should be a school, not a paragon or blue-print. She found it interesting though that Neville saw no alternative.
"Do you think she will be capable?"
"Parkinson?" Neville asked. "I didn't at first, but now I do. She already has her book list narrowed down, which is further than I've gotten." Neville shifted uncomfortably, as through realizing he ought not to have admitted to not having his class plans begun.
"Why Lisa Turpin?" she asked. She agreed with the decision. Anyone who could extract even faint praise from Severus was certainly worthy, but she wanted to hear his reasoning.
"I want Lavender Brown for Charms."
Minerva blinked. That was certainly not the sort of explanation she had expected. "Laven-oh." Her gaze dropped back down to the list and Lisa's tight signature. "Miss Turpin can brew Wolfsbane?"
"Yes." Neville's hand had clenched into fists at his sides. Minerva wondered if he noticed.
"I see. People will protest." Again she pushed, curious for his reasoning.
"Greyback and his wolves attacked many people," Neville said. "The werewolf population has nearly doubled. Some of those new werewolves may be our students. They will need a role model, someone to show them they are not alone."
"Good argument." Minerva handed the list back to him. "Very well, I approve of your appointments so far. Please inform the new professors that they may begin moving in on the 15th of this month. Now, I believe we had both better hurry out to welcome those coming for the memorial service."
"All right." Minerva lead Neville out to the monuments behind the school. Her eyes warmed and her throat tightened. No matter how often she saw them, she was never unaffected. She took in a deep breath and forced her attention upon the people who had already arrived, who were still alive.
Hermione Granger was talking with Harry, her face tight with concern. Nearby, Luna Lovegood spoke with Susan Bones, one of the speakers for the afternoon. Minerva knew few seasoned adults as strong as Miss Bones. She had lost all her family, but had remained determined and helpful. When she had seen that the Ministry was more focused upon trials than rebuilding, she had created the Green Sash Volunteers. The green was the same shade that Healers wore; Minerva wondered if Miss Bones saw her volunteers as the healers of their world.
Minerva pointed Neville toward friends and joined the women and gentlemen who were still preparing for the afternoon service.
~
"All you have to do is let them take pictures with you," Hermione said to Harry. Neville knew Hermione was not trying to be rude, but he really wished she would talk about something else.
"I'm sick of pictures," Harry muttered. Then he brightened and twisted in his seat to face Neville. "Hey, Neville, did you hear about the game?"
"You mean Davies?" Neville asked. He hadn't listened to the game, but he had been at Mungo's afterward, restocking one of their potions supply cabinets when everyone had suddenly gone mad. "I heard they're going to have to replace his eye."
Harry winced. "It was really that bad?"
"Harry!" Hermione said. Harry made a face and twisted back to Hermione and back to the same discussion they'd been having ever since he'd sat down with them. Apparently someone had suggested pictures in front of the monuments, which Hermione supported and Harry thought of as disrespectful to the dead. Eventually, Neville knew, Hermione would give. Since the end of the war, fewer and fewer people had been willing to disagree with or upset Harry Potter.
Tuning the two out once more, Neville watched as others arrived. Ron came alone. He stood back along the last row of chairs and looked around. He found Harry and started toward them, but then seemed to think better of it, since he walked the other way to his sister instead. Neville guessed that the rumors were true; Ron and Hermione really had broken off their relationship.
Flitwick arrived shortly afterward with a group of Greenies whose names Neville didn't know, though he had seen them gathered together at the Cauldron for lunch on occasion. Many of the people brought flowers or cards, making Neville feel guilty that he had not thought to do the same.
As the start of the service grew closer, the number of people grew until Neville could no longer keep track of everyone who was arriving. He was surprised to notice Dean Thomas sitting near the Patil sisters and Lavender. Neville had not seen Dean after the war, not even at the first anniversary of the battle. He'd have to ask him about that later. Lavender sat stiffly in her chair, not talking. She clearly wished to be elsewhere, but Neville was glad she was there.
Neville noted the late entrance of Pansy and Adrian just as a lone violin began to play. He turned back to face the front. A mournful cello followed with a quiet flute and oboe. Each musician wore a different House crest. The cellist was from Hufflpuff and the oboist from Ravenclaw. Natalie MacDonald from Gryffindor played the flute. Remembering what Pansy had said about Daphne Greengrass, Neville wondered if the violinist in the cloche hat was she. Everyone found their seats; the service began.
~
After the service, Harry quickly made himself scare while Hermione mingled. Neville relaxed in his chair, still thinking of the speeches he'd just heard while looking around for prospective professors. When he noticed Pansy join McGonagall and Hermione, though, he quickly rose to his feet and made his way over to their group.
"I thought Ministry interference with Hogwarts ended with Umbridge," Pansy drawled. "Or were you hoping to follow in her footsteps."
Neville groaned inwardly. This was not going to be pretty. Umbridge was one of the chief figures in the triumvirate of people Hermione hated. The other two were Voldemort and Priscilla Westworth, a girl she had gone to primary school with. "All I hope for is that Hogwarts will be well-staffed and safe for students. I am merely offering the Ministry's aid."
Pansy laughed dryly. "No, Granger, you, or whoever send you on this little mission of 'good will,' are merely offering to take over."
McGonagall said nothing. Hermione trembled with anger. "What business is this of yours, anyway?" she asked.
Pansy smiled. Before she could answer, Neville stepped between them. "Hermione, I should introduce you. This is Pansy Parkinson, Hogwarts' new Professor of Ancient Runes."
"Her?" Hermione's voice grew shrill and sharp. The sound reminded of Neville the first time she had discovered Fred and George sneaking back into their dorms to sell goods from their business.
Pansy crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "Do you think me so incapable?"
Neville turned to Hermione and caught her gaze. "Do you trust me?" he asked.
"Of course," Hermione answered. Her lack of hesitation made Neville feel warm inside. Despite the war, despite everything, she was still the girl from the train who'd seen losing a toad as a perfectly natural thing to do and who'd helped him find Trevor without teasing him or making an issue of it.
"Then trust that she is best for this job."
Hermione wavered. "She wanted to give Harry to Voldemort," she said, her tone pleading for him to understand. Neville did, but he stood firm.
"I know." He kept his eyes locked with Hermione's. "She was scared. She was a Slytherin who was unafraid of speaking her mind and terrified. Not an excuse, but a reason. She did not fight in the final battle for either side; it is time for us to set an example and forgive."
"She hates Muggles." Hermione was reaching.
"She won't hate her students." Nevile wasn't sure if this was true or not, but he hoped Pansy would hear and understand the expectation.
Hermione's gaze flickered past Neville to Pansy. "Do you trust her?" she asked.
"Yes," Neville replied. He heard Pansy suck in a sharp breath. He trusted her to look out for her own interests, at least. He hoped he could one day trust her completely.
"All right." Hermione turned to McGonagall. "I hope you will think about what I said. I care about Hogwarts, too."
"Of course, Miss Granger. Thank you."
Hermione nodded and left the group. Neville turned back to Pansy and McGonagall. "What was that?" he demanded, waving his hand toward the direction Hermione had gone.
McGonagall sighed. "Certain people within the Ministry would like for nothing more than to gain influence over Hogwarts. It seems they have swayed Miss Granger to their cause." Neville's mouth dropped open.
"What?" he asked.
Pansy shrugged. "Hogwarts is a symbol of hope and change. Whoever controls the symbol can control the people who believe in it. Granger was over here offering Aurors to patrol the school and teach Defense."
Neville frowned; the image reminded him too much of before the war. "Aurors in Hogwarts?"
"Several people have expressed concern that the current protections around Hogwarts were insufficient during the war and are even more so now, without Albus' power to feed them. Aurors would put many families at ease."
"Why?" Neville asked. "Voldemort is dead."
"Do you really believe that the Ministry has found every person sympathetic to the Dark Lord?" Pansy scoffed. "Besides, several people are concerned that growing anti-Muggle sentiments in the States will make their way to our humble shores."
"What are you talking about?"
Pansy's eyes widened and her dark brows rose. "Do you truly not know? Longbottom, there is more in London and beyond than is writ of in the Daily Prophet."
"Perhaps you should just explain, Professor Parkinson."
Pansy sighed. "Millicent Bulstrode currently resides in the States. She attended St. Lucia's last year and decided to stay. She has written me about a law that the Department of Wizarding Affairs is currently considering. This law will allow for Wizarding authorities to remove magical infants from Muggle households, applying memory charms as necessary."
"That-- They--" He couldn't find words.
"Precisely," Pansy said.
Neville shook his head and looked back at the crowd of people. A queue had formed informally of people waiting to place their flowers and gifts before the monuments. Many were crying and hugging one another, sharing bad memories. He found Hermione again, now talking to Ginny. He tried to imagine what she would have been like if she had been stolen from her parents. He couldn't believe the American government was honestly considering such a law. They couldn't.
He turned back to Pansy and McGonagall. They were talking now about defenses. McGonagall was considering goblins, but Pansy had another idea. "Wait here," Pansy said, and she excused herself.
"Are you all right, Professor Longbottom?" McGonagall asked.
Neville nodded. "Just a little shocked. You'd think they'd have learned from our mistakes."
"Oh, but I believe they did. Voldemort was raised in the Muggle world." Neville felt a little sick at that thought; this was not the sort of lesson people should take from their war.
He was about to respond, when Draco Malfoy approached their group. His appearance stunned Neville; he had not realized that Malfoy was back into England. After the war and all the trials, Malfoy had left. Last Neville had heard, he had started his own defense company and was regaining much of his former wealth.
"Professor McGonagall," Malfoy greeted them. "Longbottom."
"Is there something we can do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asked.
"I was informed that Hogwarts is a little challenged defenses-wise and so have come to offer my services." He handed McGonagall a card. "Contact me. If you recall, I spent an entire year researching Hogwarts' defenses. I know the weaknesses and, now, I know how to strengthen and replace them. I promise my fees are very reasonable."
"I shall keep that in mind, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you." Malfoy touched the brim of his hat, and then turned and walked away.
"If you wanted to anger the Ministry," Neville said, recovering from his surprise, "there's a good way." He nodded toward Malfoy's retreating back.
McGonagall looked down at the card. "Yet," she said, "he does make an interesting offer." She slipped the card away. "Oh, there is Poppy. Excuse me, Neville, but I must speak with her about this year."
Neville stepped aside. Alone once more, he watched the crowd. He saw Harry again, this time with Ron, but staring white-faced at where Adrian Pucey was talking with Susan Bones. Since no one looked like they were about to explode, Neville decided to ask Adrian and Susan about it later. Harry, he knew, would evade or take offense. He then saw Dean talking to Luna within the shade of a large tree and walked over to join them.
"Good afternoon," Luna greeted him. She wore earrings Neville had not seen since the last anniversary at Hogwarts and, before that, since school. They were dirigible plums, often mistaken as radishes, and seemed very out-of-place for the somber event. Neville knew how much they meant, though, and of everything they reminded Luna. "Lovely service, wasn't it?"
"Yes," said Neville. "Hello, Dean." Up close, Neville could see that Dean still towered above him, despite Neville's own growth.
Dean grinned. "Neville, I heard you're going to be the new Herbology professor?"
"How did you hear that?" Neville asked; he had not wished to spread that knowledge around yet.
Luna raised her hand. "I told him. Dean lives in the Muggle world now."
"Really?" Neville asked. No wonder he hadn't seen him around for a while.
"Yeah, war and everything was just a bit too much for me. I'm in school now learning to teach art."
"Is it hard?" Neville asked. He'd been putting off thinking about the work he would have once the fall arrived.
Dean shrugged. "It has its moments. Oh, hey, I'm going to go say 'hi' to Seamus. If I don't see you again before I leave, it was good to see you both."
"You too."
Once Dean had walked away, Luna said, "He knows a lot about Muggles and he can teach."
Neville gave Luna a sharp look, but she did not seem to notice. She had a point, however. Neville fingered the paper in his pocket and wondered if Dean would be willing to return to the Wizarding world for Hogwarts.
~
After sending Draco over to McGonagall and visiting the monuments, Pansy decided to rest away from the crowd for a while. Out of respect for the dead, few people said anything directly to her. This did not stop them, however, from shooting her terribly dirty looks when she had gone to pay her respects at Dumbledore's tomb and the monument for the slain. Longbottom's surprising endorsement still rang in her ears. She did not know what she had done to deserve his trust, but then he was a Gryffindor. Still, she was pleased. She liked being liked. Pansy walked around to the front of Hogwarts where she thought she would be alone.
Someone had already beaten her to the front steps for solitude. The woman had brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and scarves wrapped around her throat. She looked a little familiar, though Pansy couldn't be sure. She walked over and down further until she could see the woman's face. The features took a moment to register; it was Lavender Brown.
Pansy took moment to recover before approaching the steps. She remembered Lavender as silly and bright. This woman, however, held herself tightly and was frowning. She had heard the rumours, of course, but had not been convinced until right then.
"Lavender Brown," Pansy said.
Lavender looked at her. "Pansy Parkinson," she said. "Surprised to see you here."
"Likewise."
Lavender shrugged. "I was kidnapped."
Pansy sat down on the steps beside her. "I heard Longbottom offered you a job."
"I turned him down."
"I heard that, too. What about the second offer?"
"Second offer?" Lavender asked. Her tone was so utterly disinterested, however, that Pansy suspected she asked only out of politeness.
"Charms."
Lavender laughed. The noise could have cut a diamond. "I can't teach," she said.
"He hired Lisa Turpin for Potions."
"So?"
Pansy glanced over the girl she had grown up with, them and the Patils, all annoying one another for years, until Hogwarts. She still wondered how they had gotten from that point to this one, here on the steps. Life always changed faster than she expected. "Turpin can brew Wolfsbane," she said, softly.
Lavender's eyes fluttered closed. "Tell him I will think about it," she said.
Pansy smiled. "I will."
Part Three