Sorry I Attacked Your Face [closed]
It had been a weird few days, Marlow trying to make sense of it all while also preparing for the final semester of the school year. So with lesson plans and moving plans eating up most of her time, she had completely let her prior conversation with Neville fall by the wayside
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Marlow,
I would, but I can't. I just.. can't.
Thank you, you'll be the first to know when it's done, because.. I can't!
Best,
Neville
As Neville watched Brutus fly away again, he stood by the window, letting the cool breeze flow over him to calm his nerves. He had to steady himself and get his mind in a place to do his work. He took several deep breaths, then closed the windows and walked away when he heard little squeals of displeasure from his plants.
Going straight to work, Neville was happy to escape his anxiety, if only for a little while. His hands finally steady, he started measuring, mixing, and mashing his list of twenty-some-odd ingredients. He worked carefully with his newly acquired Dittany, so precious and so rare. Exchanging the fresh for the dried stuff, he was sure, would make all the difference.
After several failed attempts, Neville took a step back. Whenever he got stuck, he made himself some tea. He held his parents' china close to his chest between sips, drawing strength from their memory to push on through his frustration.
Finally, with the hours passing by, the mixture was starting to thin out. It reminded him of an open, grassy meadow in color and smell, rather than the damp Dark Forest. He rubbed his hands together, it was back to the experiment stage, which was good.. and bad.
Neville applied the balm after burning himself with his candle. The pain stopped instantly, and then a feeling of bugs crawling under his skin started, which he attributed to rapid skin regrowth. Ten seconds later, it ceased. He wiped away the used and dried out ointment to reveal perfectly healthy skin. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would be in shock. Maybe it wasn't the most pleasant stuff to use, but Merlin be damned, it was fast. He poked where his wound once was. If he didn't know it, he never would have expected any trauma there. He had feeling, it was pliable, blood was running through it- it worked!
He tried this experiment several times, increasing the heat of the flame each time, and timing the results. The time it took to heal increased slightly with the severity of the burns, but- it was unbelievably quick regardless. Then, he knew what had to be done next. Drastic measures for drastic wounds, right?
In his back greenhouse, Neville kept his most dangerous plants. They were strictly for Newts students, who had to pass multiple tests before even thinking about interacting with one of them. These plants were temperamental and powerful, and they knew it. But, Neville was heading toward one plant in particular. The fire-breathing snapdragon.
Charlie Weasley had advised him to wear his usual gear in protection against this plant. Although not as hot or as dangerous as an actual dragon, the burn wounds it gave people were no joke. Neville had built it a cave made out of rocks and had Professor Flitwick cast several charms to keep the fire from reaching the other plants or the architectural integrity of the greenhouse.
Once he was suited up, he removed one of his wrist guards and swallowed. His other attempts had not made it this far, and he wasn't sure what to expect once he provoked this particular plant. He swallowed and set his gaze on the cave, he couldn't think about that now. He grabbed an iron spoke and started to poke at the massive flower. It's petals were like steel, and though definitely plant matter, seemed immune to the heat coming off of it.
This plant liked to hibernate in the winter, so it barely noticed Neville poking at it. So, he started to poke harder and harder, until it started grumbling, and harder still until it picked up it's head. He stared at the best, where he supposed its eyes would be, and braced himself. It was awake and it was not happy.
It let out a roar of fire and Neville extended his wrist into the way of the flame. He screamed and fell back at the pain. He watched through teary eyes as a bubble of fire started swallowing up the area, then turn to smoke, and suddenly stop. The sleepy creature grumbled, made itself comfortable on the rocks, and snored once more.
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Ten seconds for the pain to dull.
Twenty more seconds for the creepy feeling to start.
One minute for the pain to vanish.
Two minutes for the crawling feeling to end.
If he had not witnessed it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it. The ointment dried up once more, brown and seemingly out of it's power. He carefully wiped it away, but direct contact brought a certain amount of pain. But, in place for his open wounds, there was very bright red, but definitely wonderful skin under the crust.
He spent the next hour poking at the fresh skin, taking down his observation notes. It was fragile and extremely tender, but it was undoubtedly working skin.
Neville then went to work writing up a proper report of his ingredients, recipe, methods, and findings into something, hopefully, comprehensible. He was beside himself, he couldn't believe it worked. Or, that he had tickled a sleeping dragon like that. That was something he would never do again.
Finally, he picked up another piece of fresh parchment with the sun hanging low in the sky, and started another letter to Marlow. He attached a carefully preserved container of the salve, and attached both, with his report, to his borrowed school owl. Maybe one day he would get his own, but it felt wrong to have two pets when he had so little time with Trevor as it was.
Attached to this small barn owl, the letter addressed to Marlow, all thought of their kiss in the back of his mind at the moment, read:
Marlow,
It works! At least, so far it works! If you could please send the report and container along to your friend at St. Mungo's, I'd really appreciate it. Someone who really knows what they're doing should study it further.
Best,
Neville
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She hadn't expected Neville's response so quickly- wasn't sure she expected one at all given how absolutely weird things were between them.
Still, she was surprised.
She moved back into her office, managing to jot down the most coherent letter she could to Hestia and sending off the ointment before pulling out a new piece of parchment to send back to Neville.
Neville,
Just sent everything off to Hestia. I can't believe you managed everything so quickly. Please tell me you weren't burning yourself again, though.
-Marlow
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Neville was just about to bundle himself up and run to Gryffindor Tower to tell his prefects that he was going out for a bit for a much needed, comforting butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks when Brutus was at his window once more.
Despite having gone through the day he had just gone through, his palms started to become clammy now that he wasn't concentrated on his work.
He petted Brutus and took the letter over to his desk. He was about to go to Gryffindor Tower, but... he wasn't ready to talk to her again. Especially after he ran away from her at the party.
Marlow,
Wouldn't have been able to do it without you, the fresh Dittany made all the difference.
I... well, I kind of had to, you know? Nearly good as new, though.
Best,
Neville
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