Paenitenia: Nova Vita- Chapter 3- anonmouser

Reading Time:
9 Minutes

Neville is not a capitalistic man. But as he enters George’s flat and comes face to face with the smug bastard looking peachy as pie as he fades away in a glittering of dust, he thinks:

Maybe I should’ve taken him up on that loan.

Said loan being what Neville stupidly declined after the man offered to front half the cost of his mobile opathecary. Nearly a decade later and no end in sight of maintenance to upkeep, he definitely should have told his manners to fuck off.

Especially because he’d left a very clingy dragon behind in his bedroom and he’d definitely be late to opening up shop the following day because of it.

Sighing, he summons the note the hummingbird had annoyingly rambled to him about, musing that if he were a muggle, he’d probably be driven to psychosis with the odd ways of communicating wixen have.

Reading over George’s frantic writing, he just might be on that edge anyway. Of course he’d get over his pathetic pining for Harry and immediately jump over a metaphorical cliff with him.

Harsh? Absolutely. But Neville was the second person besides Lee to be witness to the mess that was George Gideon Weasley and his hopeless, sole minded devotion to one Harry Potter.

The worst part was that it wasn’t even entirely romantic. George just trusted Harry in a way Lee says he hasn’t with anyone since Fred. So, if Harry found a way to travel back and fix things? George was definitely one half of the inner workings of whatever ritual they cooked up. Neville is incredibly proud, but also so, so over his idiotic friends.

He sits down and reads over their work, absentmindedly setting a quill to write notes to send off to the others. They were going to lose their minds, and he didn’t want to sit for an hour of Bill interrogating him or Hermione cursing up a storm.

George wakes up to a familiar weight on him. He grumbles as he goes to push it off before he freezes.

This shouldn’t be possible. He’s nearly thirty years old. Fred has been dead for a decade. It’s impossible for him to be sleeping on top of him.

Unless the bloody ritual worked and George needs to find a ring to propose to Harry in approximately five seconds time.

He takes a shuddered breath before opening his eyes, and immediately closes them as they pool with tears.

Red. Red, frizzy, and sticking up in ways he has no right to laugh at because his hair did the exact same thing.

Fred was here. Fred was whole. Fred was real.

Fred was alive, and breathing obnoxiously on top of him.

George does not push him off him. Not like he would have had he truly been seventeen. No, instead he presses his face into the crook of his brother’s neck and breathes in.

He’s wearing that disgusting parfum Ginny got him for Yule. George won’t throw it out this time because Fred would wear it until it ran out and half heartedly bemoan about running out simply to make their sister laugh and buy another one equally as gross.

He’s wearing the pullover he swore just last year he didn’t steal from George’s dresser, the bloody liar. But he doesn’t care because Fred can keep it if he stays alive to steal it back from him when he hides it.

George doesn’t know how long he spends quietly sobbing as he takes in his brother, but he does know, as he does all things when it comes to his twin, the moment he’s noticed.

Fred blinks down at him as he wakes up and immediately frowns.

“If you tell me I died in this future of yours, we need to do some serious preparation. That’s unacceptable, how on earth would the shop get traction?”

George changed his mind. With a huff, Fred is spread out on the floor, indignant as he grunts his displeasure.

“That’s not funny, you git.”

“It bloody well not be, ‘m serious!”

“No you’re not.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“Nuh uh.”

“I’m not doing this with you, come here.” And then George is hauling his twin off the floor and clinging to him yet again. Fred softens and hugs him back.

“Looks like we need to focus on one aspect of school after all, huh?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And I’ll keep being one because I’m not going anywhere. Tell me your plan.”

“I need a ring and Sirius distracted.”

“Well, find someone else to do it, then. I’m not missing you proposing and I really will die if I’m the one that distracts him from something like that.”

“Change of plans then. I need us to put the shop aside for the moment and turn you into Moody 2.0.”

Fred’s face twisted in disgust as he shook his head.

“Gross, but noted. Will you really propose to Harry though? I liked the sound of that.”

“That was more a profession of gratitude.”

“I hate to tell you this Forge, but you suck at this. What kind of gift is being bonded to you?”

“Find another twin then, you arse.”

“Mm, no.” Fred smacks a kiss on his forehead and goes back to laying on top of him despite his grunt of protest.

“I like it here.”

George resigns himself to being a pillow until Fred truly finishes his nap and stares at the ceiling.

“You’re telling me all about who made the first move when I wake up,” Fred groggily mumbles.

“Sod off,” George scoffed. He wouldn’t be proposing to Harry, but he definitely owed him a good snog when he saw him.

“I’m not doing this with you when you’re still under your father’s thumb,” Neville hissed as he stood in the secluded corridor. Draco stood across from him, tears streaming down his face.

“I understand Draco, I promise you I do. I would do anything for my parents, and I know your mother is in danger if you don’t leave successfully in one go. But while protecting yourself, you’re hurting other people. I can’t in good conscience be with you while that happens. I’m sorry.” He turns to leave but is topped when the blond grabs his arm.

“Neville, please,” Draco has never begged for anything a day in his life. But if there must be a first, he’d much rather it be for the boy he wants than the monster he knows will make him ask to stop while having no intention of giving him mercy.

Neville is spared from answering when they hear a sharp thud around the corner. Hermione’s worried voice can be heard and he gestures for Draco to keep quiet as he goes to check.

He gasps as he sees Harry on the floor, and he spares no time on joining him to check his pulse and run a diagnostic spell over him.

“What happened?” He demands.

“I don’t know,” Hermione worryingly replied.

“We were just chatting about our potions assignment and he just collapsed!”

“I’m not finding anything in my diagnostic, he needs to be looked at further.”

He nearly jumps as he hears footsteps pad towards them when he had decidedly told the blond to stay put, but Neville glances up at Draco anyway, raising an eyebrow in warning.

“Long bottom, we weren’t finished.”

If Neville had spent less time than he admits with him, he would have taken it as him being difficult. Unfortunately, Hermione was with him, and she misunderstood enough for the both of them.

“As you can see,” she irritably gestuered toward Harry,

“He’s busy. Get lost Malfoy. And if I found out you were behind this I swear to Merlin I’ll-”

“That’s quite enough, Hermione. You watch Harry and I’ll escort Malfoy back to his dorm.”

“What-”

“Trust me. I’ll be right back. Walk,” he demanded and to Hermione’s surprise, Malfoy fell into step with the brown haired boy.

“If you take him to the hospital Wing one of the Carrows will hurt him,” is what Draco blurts out once they’re in the room of requirement. Neville frowns.

“Why the bloody hell do they feel the need to take over the hospital Wing?

“They’re terrorists. It’d be easier to ask why they felt the need to curse people.

“Merlin’s beard,” Neville felt faint.

“I know someone who can get him help, but you have to promise me you’ll stay here when he does.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if those crazy gits realize every single person associated with Harry is missing, because Granger and at least one Weasley will no doubt sneak out, they won’t stop until they figure out why. If they think they’re having a meeting and you’re not there, then you’re not important. You don’t have information worth targeting you and drawing attention should your grandmother kick up a fuss. Stay here, and you’re safe. At least for now.”

Neville stared at him for a moment.

“Is this you actually caring about getting Harry help or about keeping me close?”

“I’m doing my best!” The blond yelled.

“I’m tired, Neville. My home has been invaded by a mad man without a nose. My deranged aunt has done unspeakable things to please him and he’s so bloody out of touch with reality that nothing she’s done has impressed him because he’s personally done ten. times. worse.”

“I don’t pretend to be an innocent lamb. I’m quite privileged compared to other children in this man’s circle, if only that he hasn’t killed me for my initial rejection of his brand because he thinks I’ll cave by the summer.”

He runds a hand through his hair and tugs, frustrated.

“I’m being tasked with missions to gradually build up my caliber for hurting people, I won’t be surprised if he asks me to kill someone soon.” He looks at Neville, and tears begin spilling once more.

“I don’t want to become a monster, and Potter is one of many who didn’t deserve the ridiculousness I’ve put them through. Snape will help, and I know it sounds odd, but he’s not as sneaky as he thinks he is. Not to me. I swear on my magic that he’ll take him somewhere safe.”

Neville couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing him if he tried. Fucking Malfoy.

“You didn’t have to do that, idiot,” he pressed his forehead to the blond’s, holding him as his sniffling petered off.

“As long as you believe me that’s all that matters.”

“You’re still an idiot,” he insists.

“But,” he pressed another chaste kiss to the blond’s cheek.

“Hopefully, after this nightmare is over, you’ll be my idiot.”

Draco makes a noise Neville will politely decline being a whine.

“Let my nan help you, please. I know your mother isn’t fond of her, but she’s the most unpredictable person I know. Even Professor Dumbledore tries to avoid her. She can house her in one of the extended families’ properties and you can sneak out of here if they try to grill you for information. You’re not marked, they won’t be able to track you.”

Draco bit his lip.

“I don’t know if she’ll say yes,” he sounded helpless and Neville wanted to shake Narcissa himself.

“Tell me a shop she tends to frequent when she goes out and leave the rest to my nan. What’s important is you saying yes. Do you want to leave, Draco?”

“Yes, please. Yes,” Neville hugs him again before gently peeling himself away. He charms them both clear of tears and fixes the blond’s hair.

Pressing one more kiss to his lips, he heads back out.

“You’re safe with me. They won’t hurt you, I’ll be with you, okay?”

“Go, before I keep us here. Tell Snape to pack some of my mother’s things if he can when he’s next summoned.”

“I will. Don’t pack anything you have stowed here unless its an essential. We want them to be confused for as long as possible. If it looks like you didn’t leave voluntarily, they won’t know where to start digging.”

Draco nods and then Neville’s on his way to track down the last man he wants to see. He had a friend to save.

TBC.