Three Years Later: ReceptionFic (2/2)
Title: Three Years Later: ReceptionFic (2/2)
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows, Previous Chapters
Characters/Pairings: Too many to mention
Rating: R for language, mild situations, and uncouth discussions
Summary: The wedding is nice, but the reception is when things get interesting
Disclaimer: I own the Granger family. Everyone else belongs to JK Rowling.
ReceptionFic (1/2) / Previous Chapters / Forty-Two Months Later: Muggle Charms
“Thank you very much,” the wedding singer said to the politely applauding crowd. “We’re going to take a little break, get ourselves a little nosh, but we’ll be back soon enough.”
“I apologize for the outburst, Harry,” Petunia Dursley said as the band pulled their guitars and accordions from around their necks and took a walk to the kitchen tent. “I knew Vernon was having difficulty with all of this. I just didn’t realize how much.”
”It’s fine, really,” replied Harry, his voice still betraying the shock of not only the argument that had occurred (his eyes kept unconsciously glancing over to the table, even though all three Dursleys were now elsewhere), but of Petunia’s new stance towards him. I don’t remember the last time she called me by my name, he wondered as he adjusted a slumbering Teddy Lupin on his shoulder.
“Are you two going to be okay?” Hermione asked. “I hope we didn’t…”
Petunia shrugged. “We’ve had fights before,” she said. “He’s a brick wall. I suppose that’s why I married him in the first place.”
“Well… just be careful, alright?” said Ron, also trying to come to terms with the new and improved Petunia Dursley. “He was sounding right scary for a bit there.”
Petunia gave Ron a glance that still said the old one wasn’t completely dead. “I still know how to take care of myself, young man,” she sniffed.
“No one’s doubting that, Aunt Petunia,” Harry laughed. “Believe me.”
“We really do appreciate you coming, though,” said Ginny from beside Harry. “We didn’t think you’d want to make a flight.”
“Well, Dudley insisted, and…” Petunia paused. Sighed. Shook her head. “Oh, Harry… Lily would be so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Harry said quietly, and Ginny squeezed his free hand.
“From everything that Gwen’s been saying it sounds like you picked the right one for Mrs. Potter.”
Ginny smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of hearing that,” she said, bumping Harry playfully with her shoulder. “But thank you.”
“And I hope I was able to help you figure out the situation with your family?” Petunia asked Hermione.
“Absolutely,” she replied. “We toed the line as well as we could. We were actually able to get more of them here than I expected.”
“Harry!”
The group turned to see Neville quickstepping across to the table. “Have you seen Luna?” he asked.
“Did she wander off again?” Ron said. “I told you we should keep a bell on her.”
“I think she was over at Flitwick’s table,” said Hermione, looking around the lawn. “Talking with my Mum.”
“Okay, thanks,” Neville nodded, and started to walk off, but Harry stopped him.
“Neville!” he said, grabbing his arm. “I want to introduce you to my aunt.”
Neville looked at Petunia blankly for a moment, as if his mind were somewhere else, then clicked back to reality. “Oh!” he said, giving a nervous glance to Harry. “Your aunt?”
“Petunia, I’d like to introduce you to Neville Longbottom,” Harry said. “Best Man and Snake-Slicer Extraordinaire.”
“Ummm… a pleasure,” Petunia replied, now looking uncomfortable herself as she held out her hand. “Snake-Slicer?”
“Long story,” Neville shrugged. “Harry hasn’t told you about the horcruxes?”
“I haven’t been told much of anything,” Petunia replied. “Haven’t really wanted to be told much before recently.”
“We do have a lot of catching up to do,” Harry nodded. “I’d introduce you to my cousin, Dudley, but he appears to be busy. That’s him over there with Susan.”
Harry pointed to a table on the other side of the dance floor that caused Neville to do a double take. Harry’s demon cousin, holding hands with Susan Bones?
“Yeeeeah, it’s weirding me out, too,” Ron admitted.
“I think they’re kind of cute together,” said Ginny, craning her neck.
“How about your uncle?” Neville asked Harry. “Where’s he at?”
The five stared back at him, their mouths slightly agape. “You… you didn’t hear the show?” Ron asked.
“When?”
“Five or ten minutes ago?”
“I was in the house,” said Neville.
“Oh, really?” Ginny said playfully, her eyebrow arched. “Who with? You didn’t lose Luna already, did you?”
“Ummm… no one,” Neville said, his face turning pink. “I should… I should go. Nice meeting you.” And he was gone, heading toward Flitwick’s table.
“He seems like a decent boy,” Petunia said as Neville walked away.
“He really is,” Harry said. “Better than this bloke, anyway.”
“And the horse you rode in on, Potter,” Ron snorted, smacking Harry’s extended thumb away from his face.
“And who’s this, then?” Petunia asked of the boy on Harry’s shoulder.
“Oh, this is Teddy,” Harry said, and the child, who apparently wasn’t completely asleep yet, looked up at his name, his hair turning pink as he did. “Teddy, this is my Aunt Petunia. Like the flower.”
Petunia studied Teddy as he gave her a sleepy wave, and then cast an awkward glance at Harry and Ginny. “He’s not… I mean, you two didn’t…”
“What, ours?” Ginny said as Harry blushed furiously. “No, he’s Harry’s godson.”
“Our godson, now,” Harry corrected, and Ginny grinned wide. “No, his parents… um… well, they’re a bit of a long story, too.”
“We do have a lot of catching up to do,” Petunia said, a small, genuine smile crossing her face for the first time that Harry could ever remember. “And I expect to hear everything.”
“You will,” Harry said. “There’s a lot to say. A lot to tell you. About Professor Snape, for one…”
“Snape?” Petunia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Where have I… Good Lord… You don’t mean Sev?”
“She’s fascinating,” Horace Slughorn said in an awed voice. “Absolutely fascinating.”
“And you don’t remember anything?” asked Cho Chang. “About her birth?”
“Not… well… it’s complicated, I guess,” said Charlotte Granger, her daughter sitting on her lap. Like Teddy, Hermione Caroline Granger was about five minutes away from bedtime, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder. “I can sort of remember it. Like it was a dream… if that makes sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” said Filius Flitwick. “It’s all about the subconscious. Temporary memory modification doesn’t happen very often, so it’s not as studied as permanent, but I suppose you could argue that, if your false memory was layered on top of your true self, then that true self becomes a second subconsciousness. Taking in information and storing it even when we don’t recognize it.”
“It is instinct,” said the calm voice of Firenze the centaur from behind her. “The unconscious mind can only do so much. But it is her instinct that is what was behind her memories. Hermione is her daughter. It does not matter whether she remembers the birth or feels as though she dreamt it. You knew she was yours from the moment you awoke, did you not, Charlotte Granger?”
“I did,” said Charlotte, gently running her hand across her daughter’s blond hair. “I knew she was mine, and I loved her like she was mine. And that’s all that really matters, even if I don’t have a crystal clear memory of the painful parts.”
“I would like to interview you sometime, if you wouldn’t mind, Mrs. Granger,” Flitwick continued, jumping up on top of his chair as he leaned on the table. “You and your husband both. For scholarly work, of course. I’ve been doing some research on Memory Charms, and I would love to have you two tell me about your experience. What you remembered, what you still remember, that kind of thing.”
“I don’t think that would be an issue,” said Charlotte. “Would we be of much help?”
“Of course you would!” Flitwick exclaimed. “As I said, temporary memory charms are rarely used nowadays. Most of the time when people need modification it’s on a permanent basis. And when it comes to Muggles, it’s practically unheard of, there’s no reason for a Muggle to ever need to remember us again. I would like to see if there are any differences in brain reaction, memory load, that sort of thing.”
“Not anything, umm… invasive, is it?”
“No, not at all,” Flitwick said, waving his hand. “No, perhaps some hypnosis, but otherwise just interviews and possibly some memory tests.”
“Professor Flitwick?” the boy asked from behind Filius.
“Oh, Neville!” Flitwick said, spinning around and vigorously shaking Neville’s hand. “I wasn’t able to see you earlier, congratulations!”
“Ummm,” Neville said, clearing his throat. “I haven’t… um… Have you seen Luna Lovegood?”
“She was just here a minute ago,” Flitwick replied. “But I think she went over to speak with her father.”
Neville looked around. “Where is he? I haven’t met him.”
“Over at the table where Hagrid’s head’s poking out,” Penelope Clearwater, sitting at the table beside Percy Weasley, said. “You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” he said, disappearing into the crowd.
The two silent members of the table finally broke theirs. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us this,” said Helen Wainwright, Daniel Granger’s sister. “I mean, we were worried sick about you two, disappearing off to wherever!”
“I know, Helen,” Charlotte pleaded. “And I’m sorry. But we couldn’t tell you. We weren’t sure of what the laws were regarding all of this before a few months ago, so I wasn’t comfortable telling you that we could barely remember where we were.”
“Weren’t you angry, though?” asked Elizabeth Wainwright from beside her mother. “Having a year of your life taken away like that?”
“Well, I won’t lie to you,” said Charlotte. “We were a little upset when we woke up on a different continent. But then we learned about what had happened. Learned about Hermione Caroline. And, more importantly, we learned about the stakes. About everyone who had died, and about why Hermione did what she did for us.”
“So you were fine with it?”
Charlotte Granger shook her head, at a loss for a proper explanation. “I guess there just weren’t any easy answers. She made the best choice that she could, for us and for her.”
"So, you see, my prediction did come true eventually," said Sybill Trelawney. "The boy did die."
"Yeah, well, you predicted everybody's death at some point or another," Hagrid snorted. "Process of elimination, innit?"
"But the boy had The Grim," Trelawney retorted, nodding her head knowingly. "Yes, he was marked for a long time with that monster."
"I thought the Grim was just Mr. Black," Luna asked Hagrid, who just shook his head in weary frustration.
"The whole Grim fascination is balderdash, anyway," said Xenophilius Lovegood, taking a sip of his firewhiskey. "There's nothing wrong with Grims. They're on the side of Light. The side of the Hunters."
"The what?" Hagrid asked skeptically.
"The Hunters, Mr. Hagrid, the Hunters," Xeno said as though he were explaining the obvious. "The Vampire Hunters. They find out who the shadowy creatures' next victims are, and send their Grims to survey the target until the vampires are ready to strike. It's all a part of the Rotfang Conspiracy. I have some literature I could loan you, it's fascinating reading."
"Right," said Hagrid, eyeing Mr. Lovegood warily. "I... um... I'm not much of a reader. But... I'll take your word fer it."
"Luna?"
"Oh, hello, Neville," Luna said as Neville Longbottom approached. His hands were clasped in front of him, twisting nervously. His eyes were having difficulty meeting hers.
"Can we talk?" he asked.
"Of course," said Luna. "Do you still want to dance?"
"Right now?"
"Of course," Luna repeated.
"But..." Neville looked toward the empty stage. "The band's off somewhere."
"That's nice," Luna said. "Would you like to dance?"
"I want to," said Neville. "When there's music."
"There is music, don't you hear it?" she said, standing and taking his hand. "Come on."
Neville, more frazzled than ever, followed Luna onto the empty dance floor.
“Could we, I don’t know, dance somewhere a little more private?” he asked. He knew that most of the guests were involved in their own conversations, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like all eyes were on them.
“We could,” said Luna, “But this is a dance floor. It is where dancing happens.”
“Right…” Neville said, his face turning pink.
“Besides,” Luna continued, placing her hands comfortably on his shoulders. “The only private area that I know of was taken over by Seamus and Lavender soon after you left.”
“Really?”
“They’re getting her feet wet,” Luna explained. “Which I guess involves putting her tongue in his mouth.”
“Yeah,” Neville said, suddenly blushing more than he thought possible. “I guess that’s an interesting way of doing it.”
“Are we dancing?” asked Luna. “Because your hands aren’t on my waist.”
“Oh!” Neville said, his hands flipping out and barely touching her hips. “What are we dancing to?”
“What song is in your head?”
Neville thought hard. “Some rock song,” he said. “By Unicorn Union.”
“Hmmm…” Luna thought out loud. “I have Merlin and The Pants in mine. American Bluegrass. This should be interesting.”
And it seemed to work out okay, despite the fact that Neville was spending most of his time trying to remember the dance steps he hadn’t had to use since the Yule Ball, while all the while trying desperately to either look Luna in the eye or to avoid her penetrating gaze. A few people noticed them dancing but, since most of them knew Luna or the Lovegoods, they didn’t find it odd in the least that she was doing it without any music, and went back about their business.
“So you wanted to speak with me?” Luna asked after a few minutes.
Neville found himself in one of those moments where he couldn’t look away, but pulled himself back to reality. “Yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, I did.”
“About more than what song we’re dancing to?”
“Yeah…”
“That’s good,” said Luna. “Although I should mention that The Pants aren’t in my head anymore. It’s Cecelia Cintel now.”
“The opera singer?”
“Yes,” Luna said. “I hope it didn’t throw off your rhythm.”
“My rhythm’s just about shot,” Neville said, smiling nervously, and then taking the plunge:
“I got a job offer.”
“Really?” Luna asked, her a rare glimmer of excitement showing through her misty eyes. “Something better than you’re in now?”
“A little bit, yeah,” Neville said, wishing he could look away.
“Where did the offer come from?”
“Hogwarts,” Neville said. “Pomona’s retiring, and Professor…. Minerva asked if I wanted to be the new Herbology professor.”
“Neville, that’s wonderful,” said Luna. “You would be a good teacher. I have known it since the D.A., you were always so much better giving the lessons than Ginny and I were.”
“Thank you,” Neville said. “McGonagall said that Sprout would stay around to help me get used to things, on an interim basis, I mean. Get a syllabus set up, equipment in order, all of that. I’d actually be using her lesson plans until I’m comfortable enough to tweak it. But McGonagall says that she’s looking to retire soon herself, so if I wanted a chance, this would be the time, before I had to fight my way into the good graces of a new Headmaster.”
“So you’re starting right away?” asked Luna. “Classes start in a month and a half, you need that much time to get everything together.”
“I’d be speaking to one or two of the late-coming Muggle-borns, too,” said Neville. “Like Hagrid did with Harry and McGonagall did with Hermione. But this is all still ‘if.’ I haven’t accepted the offer yet, although McGonagall said that she can’t wait more than a few days. But I wanted to talk to you first.”
Luna smiled. “Well, I have already given you my opinion, Neville. I think you would make a wonderful Professor.”
“It’s not just that,” Neville said, suddenly wishing he had a glass of water handy. Hell, if he didn’t have his hands on Luna’s hips he’d be reaching for his wand and casting an Aguamenti; not just for his throat, but for his entire face, which seemed to be on fire.
Oh, just do it!
“How do you feel about me, Luna?” he blurted. “Be honest. I need honesty.”
As they circled the empty dance floor to the tune of quiet conversation and the Unicorn Union song that seemed to have disappeared from his mind, Neville was expecting Luna to wait a few moments. Collect her thoughts; come up with nice ways of saying things.
But, of course, this was Luna. She didn’t need to collect her thoughts, because they were always right there on the tip of her tongue.
“I like you very much, Neville,” she said almost as soon as he finished speaking. “I like all of my friends, but I like you more than I like the others. You are always so nice, and you have never made fun of me or looked at me as though I was stupid or didn’t know what I was talking about. You are very smart and very strong and very, very brave. You are very pretty, or handsome, or whatever term you would like me to use, and ever since the early meetings of the D.A. I have had hormonal impulses whenever I see you. I think of you at least five nights a week when I masturbate, and I have always wondered what it would be like to kiss you or to have intercourse with you. I think you would make a great husband and a great father and I hope that I when I get married it is to someone as kind and as brave and as attractive as you, if not you specifically.”
Neville wondered for a few seconds why Luna was moving around so much in front of him. Then he realized it was because his feet had stopped moving beneath him, like they had been cast in cement; Luna, meanwhile, was continuing to dance as though nothing had happened.
“Wow,” he breathed, forcing himself to move again. “That’s… umm… wow…”
“Did you want me to be less honest?” Luna asked.
“No,” said Neville. “Although I have to admit that some of it threw me a bit. But that’s one of the reasons I love you, you don’t sugar-coat.”
“I did not think I was sugar-coating anything,” Luna said. “Sugar-coating implies that I have bad things to say, and… did you just say you love me?”
Neville nodded, and his dry throat clicked as he swallowed. “I did, yeah.”
“It is nice that you have been able to define it with me, Neville,” said Luna, and Neville noticed her cheeks flushing, which is something that almost never happened through that calm exterior. “I have not been able to define it myself, since there really is no definition for love. But I believe that all of my feelings for you are love, as well.”
“Really?” Neville said, smiling despite himself as Luna nodded.
“And is this what you wished to speak to me about?” Luna asked, her hands still resting on his shoulders.
“I needed to know,” said Neville. “Because, well, it complicates things.”
“I have heard that love is always complicated.”
“Hogwarts is a big commitment,” said Neville. “A bigger commitment than almost any job in the country. If I took this position, and we were together, we would barely see each other. A few weekends during the year. A month, month and a half during the summer. No Christmas, no Easter, unless the Headmaster that replaces McGonagall in two or three years would allow visitors during those times. Otherwise the school is too big, the job’s too important, for the dozen or so professors to leave the students unattended or unguarded for even a night.”
“I understand,” said Luna. Neville noticed in his peripheral vision that the band was returning to the stage, but he didn’t really care if they were giving the couple funny looks.
“I’ll turn the job down in a heartbeat,” he continued, “if you want to be with me. If you want to make a go of whatever it is that we have, then I want that. Hogwarts would be great, but if it meant not having you in my life, then I’d rather stay at the shop in Hogsmeade.”
“Neville, you would not be happy selling potion ingredients for the rest of your life.”
“But we’d be together…”
“We could be together if you were working at Hogwarts.”
“We would barely see each other…”
“And if you turned down this job, and then we decided that things did not work out between us?” Luna asked. “That is a real possibility; it unfortunately happens far too often in this world when people go into life without thinking clearly. Would you be any happier if the next Headmaster decided you were not qualified, and you had to work at the potions shop without me in your life?”
“Luna…”
“Neville, if you would please listen to my proposition,” Luna said in a forceful tone that was so unlike her, yet so… “This is both of our lives we are speaking of now, and I think things should be talked through. I have heard your offer: be with you or leave you to Hogwarts. But I do not think this is an either/or equation. There are many other opportunities beyond the two.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why could we not have both?” asked Luna. “If you work at Hogwarts, there will no one else significant in your life, unless you decide to date another Professor or a student. And I have never been popular, so the prospects of me being with someone else in that time are very slim. And even if someone did come along, I would not care for them as much as I care for you.”
“Thank you,” Neville said despite himself, but Luna continued.
“I do not see why we could not be together while you work at Hogwarts,” she said. “We will be able to write to each other. We will be able to be with each other on the occasional weekend, and during the summer months. The Floo Network is open, so we will be able to speak to each other if we wish. And it is not a permanent position. If we decide later that we wish to become husband and wife, or you wish to have children with me and want to be with them, then we could decide from there what your career options are.”
Neville shook his head, smiling. “Ravenclaws,” he said. “Always the logical ones…”
“Wit beyond measure,” said Luna, and Neville realized that she was closer to him now, her arms now around his chest. Somehow without him knowing it, he had slipped his own arms around her waist, and their entire lengths were touching as they danced.
“And you’d be okay with that?” asked Neville. “Knowing that your boyfriend was somewhere else, and that you’d be spending almost all of your time without me?”
“I have been alone for most of my life,” said Luna. “Besides, I have Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione to keep me company if I feel too lonely. And I will be happy knowing that, even if you are not there all the time, I am not alone anymore.”
Neville leaned down to her. He thought her hair smelled like the ocean.
And then he was lost.
“Well, would you look at that?” said Ginny Potter, poking Harry as Neville Longbottom kissed Luna Lovegood in the middle of the dance floor.
“About bloody time, too,” said Ron, his new wife resting against his chest. “I don’t know how those two went so long without doing anything.”
“No kidding,” said Hermione. “I’ve been waiting for them to kiss and get it over with, we all knew they wanted to for years.”
Harry looked at the Weasleys patronizingly. “Okay, so let’s do some math,” he said. “Neville and Luna met in 1995. It’s now 2001. You two met in ’91, didn’t start dating until ’98.”
“Yeah, well, this is different!” said Ron, pointing to the two, who had broken the kiss and were now dancing to actual music as the band began to play and other couples streamed onto the dance floor.
“How’s that?” asked Ginny. “Because they only waited six years instead of seven?”
“No, it’s not because of that,” said Ron. “It’s just because it’s… you know… it’s different…”
“Thanks for clearing that up.”
“We at least kissed in the same millenium,” Hermione said defensively as the guests at their table stood up in pairs and walked out to the floor: Molly and Arthur Weasley; Lee Jordan and Katie Bell; Andromeda Tonks accepting the arm of Geoffrey Banks, Hermione’s grandfather. Across the lawn, Harry recognized other couples making their way to the throng. Dudley Dursley and Susan Bones. Seamus and Lavender, Hannah and Ernie, Percy and Penelope. Hermione’s aunts and uncles, along with her parents, now that Charlotte had brought Hermione Caroline into the Burrow to sleep along with Teddy Lupin. Hermione’s cousins each seemed to have found a random Hogwarts student or Weasley relative (Gretchen was dancing with Terry Boot, he noticed, and Elizabeth was with Dean).
“You all think you’re gonna sit on your arses and laugh at us dance badly, are you?” said George, Verity Devine on his arm. “Stand up before your legs fall off from lack of use. Join the humiliation.”
“What do you think, Mrs. Weasley?” Ron asked Hermione. “Shall we cut some rug?”
“Just don’t step on my feet this time, okay?” Hermione said jokingly, and she stood up and looked expectantly at the others.
Harry stood and smiled at Ginny. “Mrs. Potter?”
“I mentioned I’m never going to get sick of hearing that, right?” Ginny replied, taking her husband’s arm and walking behind their friends into the dancing crowd.
ReceptionFic (1/2) / Previous Chapters / Forty-Two Months Later: Muggle Charms