fic: upon being found
Well, it's about time, that's all I have to say. :) I had real problems with writing this. I've seemed to discover I don't write Neville easily. Maybe that or I don't write Percy well. Either way, this fic didn't go quite the way I was planning.
brightson301, I'm pretty sure this isn't exactly what you were expecting. It does have all of the requirements, sort of. He's happy...in a way.
Anyway, after a lot of editting I've gotten it to a place where I'm pleased with it. I think from now on my Neville writing days have ended, unless I get a plot bunny that demands some writing. :) Which probably will happen eventually.
So, do enjoy!
Title: Upon Being Found
By: neon_yellow
Pairing: very light Neville/Percy
Rated: PG
Warnings: none really
Summary: Percy’s gone missing and Neville is feeling the brunt of it.
Notes: written for brightsun301 for their win in my weekly Harry Potter trivia game.
The moon shone down through the high roof of the greenhouse, casting little pockets of light on some of the leafy plants contained inside. The strong smell of cedar wafted throughout the space, making Neville smile a bit.
It was late, far after curfew. He should be sleeping in his bed in the dormitory he shared with the other boys, but he didn’t feel like it. He was happy where he was.
It was something of a habit he’d developed in his sixth year, which had carried over to his seventh. Bad news would come in the paper every morning; more killings, more muggles found tortured, just upsetting things. Throughout the day he could concentrate on his schoolwork and try to force the thoughts from his mind, but at night there was no avoiding them.
The only real escape from them was the greenhouse.
Harry’s stolen invisibility cloak sat ruffled on the ground near the door, a testament to his change in character. Before he would never have dreamed of sneaking around at night in the dark corridors of Hogwarts by himself. He supposed the Order was rubbing off on him a tad, or maybe he was just growing up. He wasn’t sure which.
Neville smiled as he brushed some of the soil off of his hands before fetching a container of water to make his nightly rounds. Sprout had expressed to him often that the plants seemed to be faring better lately, though she couldn’t explain why. He grinned and started with the ones nearest to the back, all awful thoughts driven far from his mind as the night slowly turned to day.
*
He yawned deeply, covering his mouth as he blinked groggily. This was precisely the problem with his late night escapades. Doing it once in a while did him no harm, but he hadn’t been able to sleep in such a long time that it had gotten to the point where he was in the greenhouse nearly every night of the week.
Neville yawned again and spread butter all over his potion’s homework.
Harry grinned, “Tired, huh?”
Realizing his mistake, Neville cursed and tried to wipe the stain off furiously with his napkin, “Snape’s going to kill me.” He muttered.
Everyone around him stiffened and Neville silently berated himself. How could he have used the forbidden K-word? For a moment nothing was said. Hermione politely looked away, as if by not making eye contact she was sparing him some humiliation. Harry didn’t outwardly scowl, but an unhappy furrow appeared deep in his forehead.
Neville closed his eyes as he heard Ginny put her head to the table, sniffing loudly. She’d become so sensitive after…after the disappearance. Ron, on the other hand had gotten out of control.
“How could you say something like that?” He asked, his voice loud and angry.
“Ron…” Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, but he only shook it off.
“No, I’m serious. That was stupid, Longbottom. You have some nerve.” His fists were clenched on top of the table.
“Ron, it was just an accident.” Harry told him, though he had little conviction in his voice.
“I don’t care whether it was a bloody accident, he can’t say things like that!” Neville bowed his head, his eyes still closed. He could feel a massive headache coming on.
“I’m really sorry, Ron.” The redhead wouldn’t let him finish.
“You’d better well be sorry, you’ve gone and upset Ginny.”
The girl in question had her head buried in her arms on the table, her slim shoulders shaking raggedly.
Neville opened and closed his mouth, unable to think of what to say.
“Calm down.” Hermione hissed. Ron was about to say something to her when many loud squawks came from above. They looked up to see the morning post being delivered.
Hermione caught the Daily Prophet and everything else was forgotten. Ginny sat up and blinked away tears, while everyone else, Neville included, leaned forward to get a good look as Hermione flipped to the back pages. She folded the paper over and scanned the list.
“Is he mentioned?” Ginny asked, her voice shaky.
Hermione looked up and shook her head, “No.” She replied quietly, “Percy’s not on the list.” Ron sighed in relief, and looked down at his plate, pushing it forward slightly.
Neville leaned back into his chair, temporarily relaxed. That’s what all the tension was about. Since Percy had disappeared Ron and Ginny were walking wrecks. Neville didn’t blame them, really. It had been horrible.
Only two months after Percy finally admitted he’d been wrong and decided to work for the Order, he just disappeared, vanished into thin air. No one had any idea what had happened to him. His flat hadn’t been broken into; there had been no signs of struggle. He was simply gone.
That’s why there was always a made rush for the causalities list in the Daily Prophet. Ron and Ginny were frantic for any sort of information on him. There never was any. But Neville wished they didn’t look at that damn list, it only served to upset him. All the news of who died, and how, proclaiming heroes and innocent victims. It made Neville feel ill.
“Anyone else on there?” Harry asked, rather coolly. He was starting to become very accustomed to seeing friends listed there, and becoming oddly detached from it.
Hermione nodded, setting down the paper. Everyone looked over expectantly to her, “Shacklebolt.” She murmured.
Neville rested his forehead on the cool wood of the table. He felt tired and ill, but despite that he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping that night.
*
He hummed quietly to himself, singing under his breath. He knew his voice wasn’t anything special, but it was made better by the greenhouse. Everything was always improved in there.
Neville trimmed the branches of the large Flitterbloom, which sat stored in a pot in the left corner. He smiled at it and patted its trunk, before going to the pump to get some water for it.
This was exactly what he needed after the day he’d had. Just getting away from the constantly tearful girls, and Harry, who’d become oddly detached lately, in a very unsettling way. Neville wasn’t sure how much more news of death and destruction he could take.
He took a calming breath and sat down on an upturned pot, closing his eyes. Today had just been too upsetting, what with the silently mourned death of Kingsley Shacklebolt. It felt unnatural for a man like to die, Neville pondered. He was far too strong.
But that wasn’t what was really bothering him. It was all the talk about Percy, or more specifically all of the non-talk. No one dared speak about him, lest they upset Ron or Ginny, but it still had Neville’s nerves shattered.
It was just that, if all of this bad stuff could happen to people like Shacklebolt, who was strong and brave, and to Percy, who was clever and in control, what chance did Neville stand at living the war out? He tried not to think about it. He knew he had grown up a bit. He was better with spells and certainly a tad braver after facing Death Eaters, but it still unnerved him.
Neville looked over at the Flitterbloom and then down to the watering can in his hand. With a sigh, he stood up, stretched his legs and went back over to the plant.
*
He awoke with a start. Something painfully hard rested under his back, which was certainly not his four-poster bed. He blinked open an eye and yawned, unsure of where he was and what had woken him up.
The greenhouse. He’d fallen asleep in the greenhouse. Neville looked around, panicked. What if someone found him? He’d get into trouble for sure, sneaking around the grounds at night.
But it was still dark outside, he realized, after a moment of nervousness, which meant that he wasn’t in any danger of being discovered by a teacher or student. At least for the moment.
Neville stood up off the ground quickly, pulling his robe on properly over his shoulders. He had to get back, just in case.
He glanced at his wristwatch, which read just over four o’clock. Wondering what had woken him, but too cautious to go look, Neville left the greenhouse and started back to the castle.
THUD. Neville turned around in an instant, wand raised. He hadn’t spent the last two summers locked up with the Order for nothing. He looked around, past the greenhouses and into the dim shadows beyond. He saw nothing.
He stood still for a moment, wand still at the ready. A dozen scenarios flashed through his mind of escaped Death Eaters invading the castle, to wandering teachers looking to get him in trouble. When he heard nothing again, he backed away cautiously, not daring to face away, Moody’s defense lessons fresh in his mind.
Sound came from the behind the greenhouse again, this time like someone falling. There was a loud crash and a muffled cry and Neville jumped.
He was about to run, just make a race for the castle and find a teacher, all hopes of bravery dashed, but then a figure immerged, stumbling. Neville pointed his wand, though the man hardly seemed threatening. He was fighting to keep upright and looked injured.
Was it a Death Eater ploy? Neville was unsure. He took a careful step forward, casting Lumos, as he went. He gasped.
Percy Weasley. Ragged, underfed, hair completely askew, glasses missing, looking very unPercy-like.
“Percy?” Neville squeaked, unsure of what to say.
The redhead looked up, blinking stupidly. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it.
“What are you doing here? Where have you been?” A dozen questions sprung to Neville’s mind. He thought of Ron and Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley family, and how overcome by grief they’d all been.
Percy didn’t respond. He stumbled out from behind the greenhouse, holding onto the glass wall as he went.
“Here, let me help you.” Neville offered him a hand, finally putting his wand back inside his pocket. Percy looked at him for a moment, examining him.
“Longbottom.” He finally croaked, his voice rough. He drew away from Neville’s hand, continuing to stumble closer to the castle, “I can manage by myself.” That sounded like Percy, Neville figured. He had way too much pride to except any help, even when he was in obvious need of some.
“Why are you here?” Neville asked again. This time Percy seemed to understand.
“Death Eaters left me in the forest.” He replied shortly, obviously not wanting to talk about it. Neville didn’t push him.
“I’d better take you to see Dumbledore.” Neville muttered.
They said no more for a long while, Neville thinking everything over in his mind. Percy was back. He took a slight breath, realizing that this would change everything. Ron would stop being so angry all the time. Ginny would stop crying over the slightest thing. All of the tension that had built up between them would finally stop.
“How long have I been gone?” Percy asked suddenly, making Neville jump a tad.
Neville counted in his head, “Almost eight months.” He answered, trying to sound gentle.
“Oh.”
They kept walking, coming to the castle steps. Percy lost his balance three steps up, and despite Neville’s best efforts at keeping him standing, he fell onto the hard stone.
“Percy…here, let me help.” Neville said apologetically. He stooped and offered his hand again. Percy narrowed his eyes, looking ruffled. Even starved, beaten, bloody and completely filthy, somehow Percy managed to look both dignified and offended at being offered any sort of help.
Neville smiled calmly, keeping his hand outstretched. He felt a tad better than he had before. Percy was alright, if slightly dirty, and that meant everything could go back to normal, or as normal as things got at Hogwarts.
Percy sighed and took Neville’s hand tightly in his own, as he was pulled up from the ground. Neville helped him up the rest of the stairs, until they stood side by side on flat ground.
“Mom’s been worried, hasn’t she.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.” Neville answered, “Ron and Ginny, too.”
Percy stood quietly for a moment, looking at the stone ground, “I wouldn’t have thought so.” He spoke sullenly.
Neville examined Percy’s sad face. He gave the redheaded boy a small smiled and spoke very quietly, holding onto his arm a little tighter, “I was worried, too.” Percy looked up, surprised. His face relaxed after a moment, and he gave a weak smile in return. They walked silently into the castle and up the marble stairs, arm in arm.
Fin.
brightson301, I'm pretty sure this isn't exactly what you were expecting. It does have all of the requirements, sort of. He's happy...in a way.
Anyway, after a lot of editting I've gotten it to a place where I'm pleased with it. I think from now on my Neville writing days have ended, unless I get a plot bunny that demands some writing. :) Which probably will happen eventually.
So, do enjoy!
Title: Upon Being Found
By: neon_yellow
Pairing: very light Neville/Percy
Rated: PG
Warnings: none really
Summary: Percy’s gone missing and Neville is feeling the brunt of it.
Notes: written for brightsun301 for their win in my weekly Harry Potter trivia game.
The moon shone down through the high roof of the greenhouse, casting little pockets of light on some of the leafy plants contained inside. The strong smell of cedar wafted throughout the space, making Neville smile a bit.
It was late, far after curfew. He should be sleeping in his bed in the dormitory he shared with the other boys, but he didn’t feel like it. He was happy where he was.
It was something of a habit he’d developed in his sixth year, which had carried over to his seventh. Bad news would come in the paper every morning; more killings, more muggles found tortured, just upsetting things. Throughout the day he could concentrate on his schoolwork and try to force the thoughts from his mind, but at night there was no avoiding them.
The only real escape from them was the greenhouse.
Harry’s stolen invisibility cloak sat ruffled on the ground near the door, a testament to his change in character. Before he would never have dreamed of sneaking around at night in the dark corridors of Hogwarts by himself. He supposed the Order was rubbing off on him a tad, or maybe he was just growing up. He wasn’t sure which.
Neville smiled as he brushed some of the soil off of his hands before fetching a container of water to make his nightly rounds. Sprout had expressed to him often that the plants seemed to be faring better lately, though she couldn’t explain why. He grinned and started with the ones nearest to the back, all awful thoughts driven far from his mind as the night slowly turned to day.
*
He yawned deeply, covering his mouth as he blinked groggily. This was precisely the problem with his late night escapades. Doing it once in a while did him no harm, but he hadn’t been able to sleep in such a long time that it had gotten to the point where he was in the greenhouse nearly every night of the week.
Neville yawned again and spread butter all over his potion’s homework.
Harry grinned, “Tired, huh?”
Realizing his mistake, Neville cursed and tried to wipe the stain off furiously with his napkin, “Snape’s going to kill me.” He muttered.
Everyone around him stiffened and Neville silently berated himself. How could he have used the forbidden K-word? For a moment nothing was said. Hermione politely looked away, as if by not making eye contact she was sparing him some humiliation. Harry didn’t outwardly scowl, but an unhappy furrow appeared deep in his forehead.
Neville closed his eyes as he heard Ginny put her head to the table, sniffing loudly. She’d become so sensitive after…after the disappearance. Ron, on the other hand had gotten out of control.
“How could you say something like that?” He asked, his voice loud and angry.
“Ron…” Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, but he only shook it off.
“No, I’m serious. That was stupid, Longbottom. You have some nerve.” His fists were clenched on top of the table.
“Ron, it was just an accident.” Harry told him, though he had little conviction in his voice.
“I don’t care whether it was a bloody accident, he can’t say things like that!” Neville bowed his head, his eyes still closed. He could feel a massive headache coming on.
“I’m really sorry, Ron.” The redhead wouldn’t let him finish.
“You’d better well be sorry, you’ve gone and upset Ginny.”
The girl in question had her head buried in her arms on the table, her slim shoulders shaking raggedly.
Neville opened and closed his mouth, unable to think of what to say.
“Calm down.” Hermione hissed. Ron was about to say something to her when many loud squawks came from above. They looked up to see the morning post being delivered.
Hermione caught the Daily Prophet and everything else was forgotten. Ginny sat up and blinked away tears, while everyone else, Neville included, leaned forward to get a good look as Hermione flipped to the back pages. She folded the paper over and scanned the list.
“Is he mentioned?” Ginny asked, her voice shaky.
Hermione looked up and shook her head, “No.” She replied quietly, “Percy’s not on the list.” Ron sighed in relief, and looked down at his plate, pushing it forward slightly.
Neville leaned back into his chair, temporarily relaxed. That’s what all the tension was about. Since Percy had disappeared Ron and Ginny were walking wrecks. Neville didn’t blame them, really. It had been horrible.
Only two months after Percy finally admitted he’d been wrong and decided to work for the Order, he just disappeared, vanished into thin air. No one had any idea what had happened to him. His flat hadn’t been broken into; there had been no signs of struggle. He was simply gone.
That’s why there was always a made rush for the causalities list in the Daily Prophet. Ron and Ginny were frantic for any sort of information on him. There never was any. But Neville wished they didn’t look at that damn list, it only served to upset him. All the news of who died, and how, proclaiming heroes and innocent victims. It made Neville feel ill.
“Anyone else on there?” Harry asked, rather coolly. He was starting to become very accustomed to seeing friends listed there, and becoming oddly detached from it.
Hermione nodded, setting down the paper. Everyone looked over expectantly to her, “Shacklebolt.” She murmured.
Neville rested his forehead on the cool wood of the table. He felt tired and ill, but despite that he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping that night.
*
He hummed quietly to himself, singing under his breath. He knew his voice wasn’t anything special, but it was made better by the greenhouse. Everything was always improved in there.
Neville trimmed the branches of the large Flitterbloom, which sat stored in a pot in the left corner. He smiled at it and patted its trunk, before going to the pump to get some water for it.
This was exactly what he needed after the day he’d had. Just getting away from the constantly tearful girls, and Harry, who’d become oddly detached lately, in a very unsettling way. Neville wasn’t sure how much more news of death and destruction he could take.
He took a calming breath and sat down on an upturned pot, closing his eyes. Today had just been too upsetting, what with the silently mourned death of Kingsley Shacklebolt. It felt unnatural for a man like to die, Neville pondered. He was far too strong.
But that wasn’t what was really bothering him. It was all the talk about Percy, or more specifically all of the non-talk. No one dared speak about him, lest they upset Ron or Ginny, but it still had Neville’s nerves shattered.
It was just that, if all of this bad stuff could happen to people like Shacklebolt, who was strong and brave, and to Percy, who was clever and in control, what chance did Neville stand at living the war out? He tried not to think about it. He knew he had grown up a bit. He was better with spells and certainly a tad braver after facing Death Eaters, but it still unnerved him.
Neville looked over at the Flitterbloom and then down to the watering can in his hand. With a sigh, he stood up, stretched his legs and went back over to the plant.
*
He awoke with a start. Something painfully hard rested under his back, which was certainly not his four-poster bed. He blinked open an eye and yawned, unsure of where he was and what had woken him up.
The greenhouse. He’d fallen asleep in the greenhouse. Neville looked around, panicked. What if someone found him? He’d get into trouble for sure, sneaking around the grounds at night.
But it was still dark outside, he realized, after a moment of nervousness, which meant that he wasn’t in any danger of being discovered by a teacher or student. At least for the moment.
Neville stood up off the ground quickly, pulling his robe on properly over his shoulders. He had to get back, just in case.
He glanced at his wristwatch, which read just over four o’clock. Wondering what had woken him, but too cautious to go look, Neville left the greenhouse and started back to the castle.
THUD. Neville turned around in an instant, wand raised. He hadn’t spent the last two summers locked up with the Order for nothing. He looked around, past the greenhouses and into the dim shadows beyond. He saw nothing.
He stood still for a moment, wand still at the ready. A dozen scenarios flashed through his mind of escaped Death Eaters invading the castle, to wandering teachers looking to get him in trouble. When he heard nothing again, he backed away cautiously, not daring to face away, Moody’s defense lessons fresh in his mind.
Sound came from the behind the greenhouse again, this time like someone falling. There was a loud crash and a muffled cry and Neville jumped.
He was about to run, just make a race for the castle and find a teacher, all hopes of bravery dashed, but then a figure immerged, stumbling. Neville pointed his wand, though the man hardly seemed threatening. He was fighting to keep upright and looked injured.
Was it a Death Eater ploy? Neville was unsure. He took a careful step forward, casting Lumos, as he went. He gasped.
Percy Weasley. Ragged, underfed, hair completely askew, glasses missing, looking very unPercy-like.
“Percy?” Neville squeaked, unsure of what to say.
The redhead looked up, blinking stupidly. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it.
“What are you doing here? Where have you been?” A dozen questions sprung to Neville’s mind. He thought of Ron and Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley family, and how overcome by grief they’d all been.
Percy didn’t respond. He stumbled out from behind the greenhouse, holding onto the glass wall as he went.
“Here, let me help you.” Neville offered him a hand, finally putting his wand back inside his pocket. Percy looked at him for a moment, examining him.
“Longbottom.” He finally croaked, his voice rough. He drew away from Neville’s hand, continuing to stumble closer to the castle, “I can manage by myself.” That sounded like Percy, Neville figured. He had way too much pride to except any help, even when he was in obvious need of some.
“Why are you here?” Neville asked again. This time Percy seemed to understand.
“Death Eaters left me in the forest.” He replied shortly, obviously not wanting to talk about it. Neville didn’t push him.
“I’d better take you to see Dumbledore.” Neville muttered.
They said no more for a long while, Neville thinking everything over in his mind. Percy was back. He took a slight breath, realizing that this would change everything. Ron would stop being so angry all the time. Ginny would stop crying over the slightest thing. All of the tension that had built up between them would finally stop.
“How long have I been gone?” Percy asked suddenly, making Neville jump a tad.
Neville counted in his head, “Almost eight months.” He answered, trying to sound gentle.
“Oh.”
They kept walking, coming to the castle steps. Percy lost his balance three steps up, and despite Neville’s best efforts at keeping him standing, he fell onto the hard stone.
“Percy…here, let me help.” Neville said apologetically. He stooped and offered his hand again. Percy narrowed his eyes, looking ruffled. Even starved, beaten, bloody and completely filthy, somehow Percy managed to look both dignified and offended at being offered any sort of help.
Neville smiled calmly, keeping his hand outstretched. He felt a tad better than he had before. Percy was alright, if slightly dirty, and that meant everything could go back to normal, or as normal as things got at Hogwarts.
Percy sighed and took Neville’s hand tightly in his own, as he was pulled up from the ground. Neville helped him up the rest of the stairs, until they stood side by side on flat ground.
“Mom’s been worried, hasn’t she.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.” Neville answered, “Ron and Ginny, too.”
Percy stood quietly for a moment, looking at the stone ground, “I wouldn’t have thought so.” He spoke sullenly.
Neville examined Percy’s sad face. He gave the redheaded boy a small smiled and spoke very quietly, holding onto his arm a little tighter, “I was worried, too.” Percy looked up, surprised. His face relaxed after a moment, and he gave a weak smile in return. They walked silently into the castle and up the marble stairs, arm in arm.
Fin.