Harry nodded his agreement and once their sandwiches were finished they headed to the library. Remus was using Penny's desk and there were scrolls and books spread around him like an obstacle course. They settled into two comfy armchairs in a corner and started discussing the potions supply. The trick was going to be getting good quality harvests of all the ingredients at the right time.
Between Neville's knowledge of Herbology and Harry's knowledge of Magical Creatures they managed to get a workable plan drafted and it was with some surprise when Sirius arrived, that Neville realised they'd been immersed in the plan for hours.
"Padfoot!" Harry leaped to his feet and surged across the room to be gathered up in a hug by his father.
A wave of longing ran through Neville. He wished…he wished…but it was never going to happen for him. His father was never going to hug him like that and with his godfather deceased he couldn't expect someone else to do the honours either.
He sighed and felt a hand land on his shoulder. Remus smiled at him sympathetically.
"Sirius?" queried Remus.
"Sorry it took us so long." Sirius said. "Simeon and Anna said goodnight – they've gone straight up to bed."
"What happened after we left?" Harry asked impatiently.
"Not much in all honesty." Sirius explained, urging them all into seats. "The Aurors arrived and took some shots of the mirror where the threat was written, performed some forensic stuff which effectively told them that yes, it is a house elf, which we already knew. Hilary said she'd walked into the bathroom, saw the writing and passed out in fear. She was pretty much hysterical; Douglas had to take her to St Mungo's for a calming draught and a sleeping potion." He gestured tiredly. "Other than that, the Aurors questioned everybody but nobody admitted to seeing anyone in the bathroom before Hilary; nobody saw anything suspicious; nobody confessed so…"
"We're still none the wiser." Remus finished.
Sirius nodded. "Lucius made the point of telling me the whole thing was very Gryffindorish which I think was his way of saying it wasn't the former Death Eater crowd since you know most of them were Slytherins."
Remus gaped at him. "You don't think he was suggesting it was Peter?"
"No, just someone else." Sirius said. "Although thinking about it, the risk that whoever it was took tonight is a characteristic more suited for a lion than a snake." He raised a hand to stop the questions. "It's late. Neville, Amelia is staying over at the Manor and your Grandmother said you can stay with us tonight if that's OK with you."
Neville nodded, pleased that his Gran wasn't on her own so he didn't feel obligated to go back.
"In that case we have to give you this." Remus smiled wickedly and pulled a piece of parchment from a drawer. He handed it over to Neville.
"Messrs Padfoot, Moony and Pronglet all invite Neville Longbottom to Griffin House, Potter Lane."
Harry grinned at him. "Brilliant! Come on! Let's go home!"
Neville followed an excited Harry out to the floo. He kept the address in his head as he flooed through after Harry and Sirius. Harry welcomed him into the house and Sirius ushered them off to bed.
Harry pulled Neville up the stairs quickly giving him a snappy tour of the upper floors and Harry's own room before taking him to a room on the floor below. Harry snapped on the light switch and the room was flooded with yellow light.
Neville looked around the cosy bedroom with a smile. There were Gryffindor red and gold accents in the linen and chair upholstery but the rest was a warm chocolate brown. There was a dresser, a wardrobe and a desk; a picture of a lion on the wall above the bed and a warm red woollen rug covering the hardwood floor. An open door led to an en-suite. A bookcase under the window was stacked with books – some muggle fiction but a lot of books on Herbology. Neville looked at Harry questioningly.
Harry gave him a tentative smile. "I thought this could be your room when you come over?"
He couldn't help it; Neville beamed at Harry. "Really?" His heart warmed with the gesture. "Thanks, Harry."
Harry grinned back at him. "'Night, Neville. Just call Dobby if you need anything."
Neville wandered into the bathroom and found toiletries and fresh towels all laid out ready for his use. He went through his nightly rituals and by the time he'd made it back to the bedroom, a pair of pyjamas was on the bed waiting for him and a glass of water sat on the nightstand. He quickly stripped and redressed in the night-wear before dousing the lights and clambering into bed.
For a moment he stared up at the ceiling, the words of the prophecy whirling in his head. It could have been him. And Merlin, poor Harry that it was him! But it was good that it was Harry too in a way, Neville mused. Harry was a hero; a powerful wizard, a leader (a reluctant one maybe but a leader nevertheless), and, for all that, a nice guy. He might not have been the Boy Who Lived the wizarding world had expected when he'd turned up at Hogwarts but he was a very acceptable version; someone who saved people, risked himself for others, and stood up against the bullies.
Yet, he knew for all that Harry would have preferred to have slipped into the shadows and resided in obscurity. He hated the attention and the stares. Harry had his insecurities and his foibles; he was naturally a little shy and a lot reserved.
A lot like Neville.
So many similarities and differences, Neville thought with wonder. How easy it would have been for Voldemort to have chosen the Longbottoms and not the Potters to attack…and then what? Would Neville have been the Boy Who Lived? Would Harry have still had his parents or perhaps it would have been the Potters who would have ended up at St Mungo's?
Neville bit his lip.
The Boy Who Lived thing was already hell of a burden for Harry to carry; that he had defeated Voldemort once meant that people would automatically look for him to do it again. Worse still if people knew the full truth and the prophecy was revealed…
Well, Sirius had the right of it, Neville determined firmly. Prophecy be damned; Harry did not have to do it alone. Neville might not be the Boy Who Lived but his magic was improving thanks to the new wand and the patient coaching of the tutors he'd had over the Summer. He had sworn his wand to Harry's service and by Merlin Harry would have it. He was Harry's friend and his godbrother.
Harry would not stand alone.
With the matter settled as far as Neville was concerned, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
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