Growing - Chapter Seven
Jul. 19th, 2006 08:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meddowBecause no society should be without a library I was forced to invent my own and this is the third fic it's shown up in, so I'm certainly getting some good mileage out of it.
Growing (7/18)
Chapter Seven – Lydia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Chapter Summary: Neville visits the Ministry library to get some answers only to hit a snag. However, a strange woman is quick to offer some help.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my beta Nathaniel.
Previous Chapter
~*~*~*~
They returned briefly to Dominion Road to put Trevor and Neville’s Mimbulus away, a toad and a plant that sprays sap when threatened not being the easiest thing to lug around the shops, and then it was off finally to Diagon Alley.
“We need to get you some new shoes first, then some clothes, so let's go to Madam Malkin's,” Andromeda announced on arrival.
“Actually, can I go to Gringotts first?” Neville had gotten the impression the Andromeda and Ted had decided to pay for his clothes and he did not want that. Not when he had five years of pocket money saved up and Andromeda could not afford to hire anyone but him to work in her business.
Ted looked like he was going to protest, until Andromeda gave him a glare. Neville knew it was rude to talk about money. “Is there anywhere else you would like to go?” Andromeda asked.
“Um, I would like to go to the Ministry library.”
“Why?” asked Ted.
Neville felt uncomfortable talking about his parents in front of Andromeda and Ted, so muttered that he wanted to look up some information for a charms assignment. Ted looked puzzled, but Andromeda seemed to have caught on. “Sure, Ted and I can walk you there and go off doing our own shopping for a few hours.”
Diagon Alley was the quietest Neville had ever seen it. It was usually bustling with people doing their shopping, now there were only a few groups and nobody was walking the street by him or herself. Neville knew this to be in line with Ministry guidelines: never travel alone in popular places, never travel at night and if you see any suspicious activity, leave and get in contact with the authorities. These warnings were blasted over the Wizarding Wireless Network and in big advertisements in the Daily Prophet.
Neville saw the red robes of Aurors walking around watching people, though more commonly were the blue robes of hit-wizards standing at every corner. What shocked Neville was that some of them looked barely older than him. He even recognised a few faces from Hogwarts, people he had seen everyday in the dining hall, though nobody he knew well enough to have really spoken to and nobody from his year.
The security at Gringotts had been increased greatly. Goblins were watching, searching and questioning everybody in order for them to enter the premises. While he was waiting he saw Bill Weasley conversing with a particularly ugly looking goblin. Bill looked his way and spotted Neville and waived to him. Neville waived back while Bill made his way over.
He seemed to be in a lot better shape then the last time Neville saw of him in the hospital wing. He smiled and said hello, but that he could not talk since he was very busy at the moment, but wished Neville well from him and Fleur.
After an hour and a half of queuing, Neville managed to make a withdrawal from his Gringotts account. He went to meet Ted and Andromeda, who had given up waiting and had gone to have a look through Flourish and Blotts and they finally managed to get to Madam Malkin's, though by this time Neville was wishing he had eaten a bigger breakfast.
Madam Malkin seemed to be up to date with all the news and ran through a list of how many clothes Neville would need to reconstruct his wardrobe. Once being measured and prodded, Neville was soon outfitted with every possible type of clothing he needed: nice shoes, work shoes, socks, underwear, work clothes, casual wear, school uniform, dress robes and winter cloaks; all neatly folded and placed in bags.
When it finally came to pay Madam Malkin leaned over the counter. “That’s fifteen percent off,” she whispered in a low voice, “for giving us all a bit of hope.” She smiled and winked and Neville, who was quite happy not to have to spend all his savings on clothes.
It was a few hours into the afternoon before the three of them managed to sit down for lunch. Ted looked slightly miserable, which Andromeda mentioned to Neville was because he hated clothes shopping.
The Leaky Cauldron was just as empty as the rest of the Alley. Tom, the innkeeper, muttered to Ted that if it weren’t the Death Eaters that got him, it would be the lack of business. After a rather large and very satisfying roast lunch, Andromeda announced that they could go to the library.
The journey to the library required a short walk through Muggle London. Muggles tended to mystify Neville. They seemed to carry on with their lives completely unaware of the peril they were facing. If the wizarding government fell then their way of life would not continue as it did, but judging from the large quantity of people on the streets they did not seem to sense that anything was wrong.
The library itself was down a small alleyway. Getting in required Ted to give five taps on a nearby drain with a wand, then the grotty bricks moved away to reveal a small elevator. By the buttons was a notice board showing the floor plan. The lobby and helpdesk were located on the ground floor, with the floors above in labelled ‘history,’ ‘theory,’ ‘public records,’ and finally, on the top floor ‘dark arts.’
“You’ll want the second floor,” Ted said, trying to be helpful.
“We’ll meet you back in two hours,” Andromeda said, nudging her husband out of the elevator.
“What…?” Neville heard Ted ask Andromeda before the doors closed on him.
Pressing the button for the fourth floor, the elevator jerked into life and did not quite make it the whole way there. Neville was forced step up to get out onto the floor.
An ancient-looking lady who was manning the desk looked up at Neville. She peered up from the paper and glanced at him with a look of annoyance which made Neville feel incredibly small. “Can I help you?”
“Uh…yeah…I’m looking for an Auror report on an…um…incident,” Neville muttered.
“Date?” she asked with a sigh, getting up from her seat.
“What?”
The woman sighed again, obviously annoyed with Neville’s lack of knowledge about proper procedure. “Those records are kept in that room behind the desk,” she pointed to a room a few meters away. “I need to know the date this ‘incident’ occurred or I’ll never find it.”
“Er…the twentieth of December 1981.”
“Name of parties involved.” Neville wondered if this woman was by any chance related to Madam Pince for she was just as lovely as the Hogwarts librarian.
“Frank and Alice Longbottom.”
The lady reached under the table and handed Neville a piece of parchment and a quill. “Sign here.” Neville looked at her about to ask why. “It’s a release,” she announced before walking slowly towards the room behind the counter.
Neville quickly signed the form, which asked for his name and address. Instinctively he signed his old address. He was about to scribble it out before deciding against it. He did not particularly want to tell a stranger where he was living and left it as it was.
Looking around Neville saw filing cabinet upon filing cabinet all, he supposed, full of parchment. All of them painted a vivid red in contrast to the black and white square patterned floor and white painted walls. The ceiling-touching cabinets provided the only colour in the room. There were a few chairs and desks located on the floor, but there was only one other person present, a middle-aged woman with long straight blond hair, which was growing brown at the roots and wearing a most putrid shade of purple robes. Neville noticed that she had nothing in front of her that she was reading, she was just looking up now and again to watch him.
Neville felt really uncomfortable and stood there for a while waiting in silence, wishing the librarian would hurry up. After what seemed to Neville to be an eternity, she returned, not carrying anything.
“That report’s not public,” she announced.
“What?” Neville asked. “I thought all reports were supposed to be public.”
“No, the Ministry can withhold them if they want to,” she looked at him as if he was making a fuss over nothing.
“But I really want to see that report…It’s important.” Neville really didn’t think that was going to help. He did notice the blonde woman had gotten up and started to walk towards him.
“Look Mr…,” The librarian looked at the piece of parchment and a familiar look spread across her face as she remembered where she knew that name from and why the Longbottoms had been in the news and suddenly felt very sorry for Neville. This merely served to make Neville more annoyed at her. “Look,” she said again, this time sympathetically, “I can’t do anything.”
“But I can,” the blonde woman announced behind him. She handed an orange piece of card to Neville as the librarian turned away in disgust. “My name’s Lydia Jenkins and getting my hands on documents that the Ministry wants hid away is my speciality.”
She held out her hand and Neville shook it. “Come to my office,” she said as she placed a hand on Neville’s shoulder and lead him towards a small room off the side of the gigantic filing cabinets.
It was not much of an office. Neville suspected it was not an office at all, but somewhere designed for quiet study. The blonde woman placed a suitcase. “So you want the Ministry report of the tragic series of events that occurred that night involving your parents.” The complete lack of sympathy in her voice strangely served to endear her to Neville. “Which you have a right, as their son and next of kin, to know.”
“Yes,” Neville agreed quietly, not quite sure of what to make of the woman.
“Well, that’s why I’m here. I’ll help you. For a small fee of course.”
Neville had a bad feeling as soon as she said this decided to decline. “Um, no thanks. That’s not for me.”
“Really. Many people have tried to get information out of the Ministry and few have ever succeeded. They’ll stonewall you. They’ll make you sign two million forms. They’ll refer you from department to department and you will get lost in the bureaucracy. And then finally,” she had been getting louder and louder during this hyperbole of a speech, “when you are on your deathbed they will send you a letter telling you they will release the information to you in a month!”
“Do you really want that to happen to you, Mr. Longbottom?” she added quietly.
“No,” Neville replied, he really did want the information relatively quickly.
“Well then, as I said, I can help.”
Maybe she could Neville decided. “So what do you do?” he enquired.
“Well, I hit up contacts, use statutes, use up my favours until I get the information. I’ll send you progress reports and – and here’s the best bit – if I don’t get you the information you won’t have to pay me,” she said. “Well, apart from the deposit…that’s not refundable,” she added quietly.
“So, what’s your decision to be, Mr Longbottom?”
“Er…,” she was staring at him eagerly. Neville supposed that if he didn’t have to pay him if she didn’t succeed it could not that bad. “Okay,” he replied.
“Excellent!” She pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill from her suitcase, handing them to Neville. “Sign here, here and here.”
Neville suddenly realised he was in trouble; he didn’t know what he was signing. “Er…um… wait.” A sudden look of disappointment crossed Lydia Jenkin’s face, but Neville noticed she quickly hid it. “How much will this cost me?”
“Well, the deposit is twenty galleons. Usually I charge three galleons a day after that, plus expenses. But,” she gave Neville a long look and looked to be considering something, “considering your current housing situation, Mr Longbottom, I will lower it to just one galleon a day…Just for you mind, tell others and I’ll be out of business.” She gave him a small but seemingly forced smile. Neville was starting to wonder if there was anyone left in the Wizarding world who did not know his home had burnt down.
Neville thought about the decision quickly. He did have enough money to pay her the deposit in his pocket, and he did really want to see the report. Making up his mind he picked up the quill and signed.
“Excellent!” Lydia snatched up the piece of parchment from under the quill and stuffed it into her briefcase and stood up. “Good doing business with you, Mr Longbottom.” They shook hands and Neville handed over the twenty galleons that were sitting in his pocket. “You can expect the first report in a week.”
“Okay…Umm. Thank you.”
Neville left the small reading room and the odd woman inside it, and spent the rest of his time looking through the shelves in the theory section of the library before Ted and Andromeda returned.
~*~*~*~
The next two weeks passed with few surprises. Neville and Andromeda got back to work in the greenhouse the very next day and Ted went back to his garage and inventions.
Neville was soon beginning to learn the idiosyncrasies of the Tonks family. Andromeda had to have everything just so. She seemed to get very uncomfortable when Neville sorted things in the wrong places. Oddly, she did not seem to mind when he dropped the occasional plate. She was rather accommodating of his clumsiness, stating that he was just like Nymphadora in that aspect.
Neville did not see head or tails of Tonks. She did not seem to ever visit her parent’s home. Andromeda also seemed to be reluctant to discuss her daughter’s current activities, though both she and Ted kept very up to date with the event in the war through the wireless network.
Despite her absence, Neville felt the presence of Tonks throughout the house, especially in the lounge where there was a rather large photo of her sitting above the fireplace. Like every wizard photo she moved, however this one was different, some days her hair colour would change, others she would have different eyes, one day she was even an old woman for a while. After that Neville decided to ask Ted about it. Ted was always willing to explain things to Neville, from the Muggle objects lying around the cottage to yet another one of Andromeda’s cleaning methods.
“Well that’s one of my inventions,” Ted explained. “In fact that was my first. See the picture changes when she changes, so we always know what she looks like…you see when Dora was a kid; she would change herself into all sorts of people. Andromeda and I had real trouble trying to keep up and we had to be especially careful when she was in public. We could easily lose her in a big crowd, especially when she wanted to be lost.”
Neville had begun to understand from the time Ted talked about her that Tonks was especially adept at human transfiguration, as shown by her pink hair, but he had never heard of child doing it. “How does she change?”
“Oh, she hasn’t explained it to you?”
“No.” Neville was getting slightly fed up of everyone thinking he should know things.
“Well, our Dora is the only known metamorphmagus in Europe,” Ted stated with pride in his voice. “She can change her form at will, anything about herself and has been able to since she was a baby.”
Neville had heard of such powers. There were stories about a fifteenth century spy who could change his form a will and get information from anyone and became very rich and powerful as a result. Neville also knew that such powers were rumoured to be dark. A very intelligent young witch supposedly foiled the fifteenth century spy, tricked him in some way Neville could not remember.
One thing Neville was beginning to notice was that despite all appearances, the Tonks family was far from normal. Not that he minded. He was enjoying the busyness and cheerfulness of the Tonks household.
~*~*~*~
Neville found he still had quite a bit of correspondence. Luna was still writing every day though they had stopped talking about Harry and started talking about everyday things. Luna liked explaining the process of making a magazine to Neville, and the activities that occurred in Diagon Alley. Neville regretted that he should have visited her when he went shopping. He did not think he would have another opportunity before the school term began.
Neville would write back to her about the plants he was working with. Luna seemed to be quite interested in what the greenhouse contained and kept on asking if Andromeda happened to keep various species of plants that Neville did not think really existed. Neville would nicely reply that no, Andromeda did not have that species, and spend the rest of the letter explaining the progress he had made with the Mimbulus, or the large order he and Andromeda had spent all day trying to get off to the Ministry or St. Mungo’s.
Luna had not heeded Neville’s warnings about Duck. Her owl would still wait for Neville to write a letter back before leaving. Though some progress had been made. After many evil looks from Andromeda, who thought having an owl in the kitchen was unhygienic, and encouragement from Neville, Duck had decided to stay in Neville’s room as opposed to the kitchen.
Lydia sent her first report in a week like she had promised. Apparently she was having difficulty getting a reason as to why the report was embargoed, though she suspected it was to protect the reputation of a current Ministry employee. She explained once she found out who it was she could make some progress and in the mean time she was tracking down who had signed the order to embargo the information in the first place.
Neville began to feel more confident in his decision to hire her, believing that he could probably never get that done alone. He would not know where to start.
As the summer days became longer and hotter with the sun often shining through the mist and causing a muggy heat, Neville realised that he was reasonably content with his life at the moment. While his house was in rubble, he now had the old tablecloth on his wall to remind him of his past. Yes, there was a war going on, but attacks seemed to be quieting down. And while many were saying that it was the calm before the storm, it seemed like the irrepressible heat was bringing a semi-balance of peacefulness to Britain.
But then one night, when Ted was busy in the kitchen baking himself a large cake for his birthday the next day (Andromeda, as it turned out, was an awful cook and banned by Ted from baking), an owl came flying down the chimney in the lounge where Andromeda and Neville were quietly reading.
Picking it up the note, Andromeda announced that she would need Neville’s help. St Mungo’s was desperately in need of Asphodel. They slaved through the night, Ted occasionally helping out, but he himself heading towards bed while Neville and Andromeda continued into the early hours of the morning.
“I think we’ve earned a well-deserved sleep in this morning,” Andromeda announced as they sent the last parcel away.
It seemed like Neville’s head had barely just hit the pillow when the sun began to shine through the windows of his room. Turning over to go back to sleep he heard Ted walking down the hallway at a quick pace.
“Andi!” he called urgently, as he hurried past Neville’s room. “Andi, it’s on the wireless!” He seemed to be quite panicked. “There’s been an attack in Hogsmeade and…and I think Dora was on duty last night.”
Next Chapter
Growing (7/18)
Chapter Seven – Lydia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Chapter Summary: Neville visits the Ministry library to get some answers only to hit a snag. However, a strange woman is quick to offer some help.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my beta Nathaniel.
Previous Chapter
They returned briefly to Dominion Road to put Trevor and Neville’s Mimbulus away, a toad and a plant that sprays sap when threatened not being the easiest thing to lug around the shops, and then it was off finally to Diagon Alley.
“We need to get you some new shoes first, then some clothes, so let's go to Madam Malkin's,” Andromeda announced on arrival.
“Actually, can I go to Gringotts first?” Neville had gotten the impression the Andromeda and Ted had decided to pay for his clothes and he did not want that. Not when he had five years of pocket money saved up and Andromeda could not afford to hire anyone but him to work in her business.
Ted looked like he was going to protest, until Andromeda gave him a glare. Neville knew it was rude to talk about money. “Is there anywhere else you would like to go?” Andromeda asked.
“Um, I would like to go to the Ministry library.”
“Why?” asked Ted.
Neville felt uncomfortable talking about his parents in front of Andromeda and Ted, so muttered that he wanted to look up some information for a charms assignment. Ted looked puzzled, but Andromeda seemed to have caught on. “Sure, Ted and I can walk you there and go off doing our own shopping for a few hours.”
Diagon Alley was the quietest Neville had ever seen it. It was usually bustling with people doing their shopping, now there were only a few groups and nobody was walking the street by him or herself. Neville knew this to be in line with Ministry guidelines: never travel alone in popular places, never travel at night and if you see any suspicious activity, leave and get in contact with the authorities. These warnings were blasted over the Wizarding Wireless Network and in big advertisements in the Daily Prophet.
Neville saw the red robes of Aurors walking around watching people, though more commonly were the blue robes of hit-wizards standing at every corner. What shocked Neville was that some of them looked barely older than him. He even recognised a few faces from Hogwarts, people he had seen everyday in the dining hall, though nobody he knew well enough to have really spoken to and nobody from his year.
The security at Gringotts had been increased greatly. Goblins were watching, searching and questioning everybody in order for them to enter the premises. While he was waiting he saw Bill Weasley conversing with a particularly ugly looking goblin. Bill looked his way and spotted Neville and waived to him. Neville waived back while Bill made his way over.
He seemed to be in a lot better shape then the last time Neville saw of him in the hospital wing. He smiled and said hello, but that he could not talk since he was very busy at the moment, but wished Neville well from him and Fleur.
After an hour and a half of queuing, Neville managed to make a withdrawal from his Gringotts account. He went to meet Ted and Andromeda, who had given up waiting and had gone to have a look through Flourish and Blotts and they finally managed to get to Madam Malkin's, though by this time Neville was wishing he had eaten a bigger breakfast.
Madam Malkin seemed to be up to date with all the news and ran through a list of how many clothes Neville would need to reconstruct his wardrobe. Once being measured and prodded, Neville was soon outfitted with every possible type of clothing he needed: nice shoes, work shoes, socks, underwear, work clothes, casual wear, school uniform, dress robes and winter cloaks; all neatly folded and placed in bags.
When it finally came to pay Madam Malkin leaned over the counter. “That’s fifteen percent off,” she whispered in a low voice, “for giving us all a bit of hope.” She smiled and winked and Neville, who was quite happy not to have to spend all his savings on clothes.
It was a few hours into the afternoon before the three of them managed to sit down for lunch. Ted looked slightly miserable, which Andromeda mentioned to Neville was because he hated clothes shopping.
The Leaky Cauldron was just as empty as the rest of the Alley. Tom, the innkeeper, muttered to Ted that if it weren’t the Death Eaters that got him, it would be the lack of business. After a rather large and very satisfying roast lunch, Andromeda announced that they could go to the library.
The journey to the library required a short walk through Muggle London. Muggles tended to mystify Neville. They seemed to carry on with their lives completely unaware of the peril they were facing. If the wizarding government fell then their way of life would not continue as it did, but judging from the large quantity of people on the streets they did not seem to sense that anything was wrong.
The library itself was down a small alleyway. Getting in required Ted to give five taps on a nearby drain with a wand, then the grotty bricks moved away to reveal a small elevator. By the buttons was a notice board showing the floor plan. The lobby and helpdesk were located on the ground floor, with the floors above in labelled ‘history,’ ‘theory,’ ‘public records,’ and finally, on the top floor ‘dark arts.’
“You’ll want the second floor,” Ted said, trying to be helpful.
“We’ll meet you back in two hours,” Andromeda said, nudging her husband out of the elevator.
“What…?” Neville heard Ted ask Andromeda before the doors closed on him.
Pressing the button for the fourth floor, the elevator jerked into life and did not quite make it the whole way there. Neville was forced step up to get out onto the floor.
An ancient-looking lady who was manning the desk looked up at Neville. She peered up from the paper and glanced at him with a look of annoyance which made Neville feel incredibly small. “Can I help you?”
“Uh…yeah…I’m looking for an Auror report on an…um…incident,” Neville muttered.
“Date?” she asked with a sigh, getting up from her seat.
“What?”
The woman sighed again, obviously annoyed with Neville’s lack of knowledge about proper procedure. “Those records are kept in that room behind the desk,” she pointed to a room a few meters away. “I need to know the date this ‘incident’ occurred or I’ll never find it.”
“Er…the twentieth of December 1981.”
“Name of parties involved.” Neville wondered if this woman was by any chance related to Madam Pince for she was just as lovely as the Hogwarts librarian.
“Frank and Alice Longbottom.”
The lady reached under the table and handed Neville a piece of parchment and a quill. “Sign here.” Neville looked at her about to ask why. “It’s a release,” she announced before walking slowly towards the room behind the counter.
Neville quickly signed the form, which asked for his name and address. Instinctively he signed his old address. He was about to scribble it out before deciding against it. He did not particularly want to tell a stranger where he was living and left it as it was.
Looking around Neville saw filing cabinet upon filing cabinet all, he supposed, full of parchment. All of them painted a vivid red in contrast to the black and white square patterned floor and white painted walls. The ceiling-touching cabinets provided the only colour in the room. There were a few chairs and desks located on the floor, but there was only one other person present, a middle-aged woman with long straight blond hair, which was growing brown at the roots and wearing a most putrid shade of purple robes. Neville noticed that she had nothing in front of her that she was reading, she was just looking up now and again to watch him.
Neville felt really uncomfortable and stood there for a while waiting in silence, wishing the librarian would hurry up. After what seemed to Neville to be an eternity, she returned, not carrying anything.
“That report’s not public,” she announced.
“What?” Neville asked. “I thought all reports were supposed to be public.”
“No, the Ministry can withhold them if they want to,” she looked at him as if he was making a fuss over nothing.
“But I really want to see that report…It’s important.” Neville really didn’t think that was going to help. He did notice the blonde woman had gotten up and started to walk towards him.
“Look Mr…,” The librarian looked at the piece of parchment and a familiar look spread across her face as she remembered where she knew that name from and why the Longbottoms had been in the news and suddenly felt very sorry for Neville. This merely served to make Neville more annoyed at her. “Look,” she said again, this time sympathetically, “I can’t do anything.”
“But I can,” the blonde woman announced behind him. She handed an orange piece of card to Neville as the librarian turned away in disgust. “My name’s Lydia Jenkins and getting my hands on documents that the Ministry wants hid away is my speciality.”
She held out her hand and Neville shook it. “Come to my office,” she said as she placed a hand on Neville’s shoulder and lead him towards a small room off the side of the gigantic filing cabinets.
It was not much of an office. Neville suspected it was not an office at all, but somewhere designed for quiet study. The blonde woman placed a suitcase. “So you want the Ministry report of the tragic series of events that occurred that night involving your parents.” The complete lack of sympathy in her voice strangely served to endear her to Neville. “Which you have a right, as their son and next of kin, to know.”
“Yes,” Neville agreed quietly, not quite sure of what to make of the woman.
“Well, that’s why I’m here. I’ll help you. For a small fee of course.”
Neville had a bad feeling as soon as she said this decided to decline. “Um, no thanks. That’s not for me.”
“Really. Many people have tried to get information out of the Ministry and few have ever succeeded. They’ll stonewall you. They’ll make you sign two million forms. They’ll refer you from department to department and you will get lost in the bureaucracy. And then finally,” she had been getting louder and louder during this hyperbole of a speech, “when you are on your deathbed they will send you a letter telling you they will release the information to you in a month!”
“Do you really want that to happen to you, Mr. Longbottom?” she added quietly.
“No,” Neville replied, he really did want the information relatively quickly.
“Well then, as I said, I can help.”
Maybe she could Neville decided. “So what do you do?” he enquired.
“Well, I hit up contacts, use statutes, use up my favours until I get the information. I’ll send you progress reports and – and here’s the best bit – if I don’t get you the information you won’t have to pay me,” she said. “Well, apart from the deposit…that’s not refundable,” she added quietly.
“So, what’s your decision to be, Mr Longbottom?”
“Er…,” she was staring at him eagerly. Neville supposed that if he didn’t have to pay him if she didn’t succeed it could not that bad. “Okay,” he replied.
“Excellent!” She pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill from her suitcase, handing them to Neville. “Sign here, here and here.”
Neville suddenly realised he was in trouble; he didn’t know what he was signing. “Er…um… wait.” A sudden look of disappointment crossed Lydia Jenkin’s face, but Neville noticed she quickly hid it. “How much will this cost me?”
“Well, the deposit is twenty galleons. Usually I charge three galleons a day after that, plus expenses. But,” she gave Neville a long look and looked to be considering something, “considering your current housing situation, Mr Longbottom, I will lower it to just one galleon a day…Just for you mind, tell others and I’ll be out of business.” She gave him a small but seemingly forced smile. Neville was starting to wonder if there was anyone left in the Wizarding world who did not know his home had burnt down.
Neville thought about the decision quickly. He did have enough money to pay her the deposit in his pocket, and he did really want to see the report. Making up his mind he picked up the quill and signed.
“Excellent!” Lydia snatched up the piece of parchment from under the quill and stuffed it into her briefcase and stood up. “Good doing business with you, Mr Longbottom.” They shook hands and Neville handed over the twenty galleons that were sitting in his pocket. “You can expect the first report in a week.”
“Okay…Umm. Thank you.”
Neville left the small reading room and the odd woman inside it, and spent the rest of his time looking through the shelves in the theory section of the library before Ted and Andromeda returned.
The next two weeks passed with few surprises. Neville and Andromeda got back to work in the greenhouse the very next day and Ted went back to his garage and inventions.
Neville was soon beginning to learn the idiosyncrasies of the Tonks family. Andromeda had to have everything just so. She seemed to get very uncomfortable when Neville sorted things in the wrong places. Oddly, she did not seem to mind when he dropped the occasional plate. She was rather accommodating of his clumsiness, stating that he was just like Nymphadora in that aspect.
Neville did not see head or tails of Tonks. She did not seem to ever visit her parent’s home. Andromeda also seemed to be reluctant to discuss her daughter’s current activities, though both she and Ted kept very up to date with the event in the war through the wireless network.
Despite her absence, Neville felt the presence of Tonks throughout the house, especially in the lounge where there was a rather large photo of her sitting above the fireplace. Like every wizard photo she moved, however this one was different, some days her hair colour would change, others she would have different eyes, one day she was even an old woman for a while. After that Neville decided to ask Ted about it. Ted was always willing to explain things to Neville, from the Muggle objects lying around the cottage to yet another one of Andromeda’s cleaning methods.
“Well that’s one of my inventions,” Ted explained. “In fact that was my first. See the picture changes when she changes, so we always know what she looks like…you see when Dora was a kid; she would change herself into all sorts of people. Andromeda and I had real trouble trying to keep up and we had to be especially careful when she was in public. We could easily lose her in a big crowd, especially when she wanted to be lost.”
Neville had begun to understand from the time Ted talked about her that Tonks was especially adept at human transfiguration, as shown by her pink hair, but he had never heard of child doing it. “How does she change?”
“Oh, she hasn’t explained it to you?”
“No.” Neville was getting slightly fed up of everyone thinking he should know things.
“Well, our Dora is the only known metamorphmagus in Europe,” Ted stated with pride in his voice. “She can change her form at will, anything about herself and has been able to since she was a baby.”
Neville had heard of such powers. There were stories about a fifteenth century spy who could change his form a will and get information from anyone and became very rich and powerful as a result. Neville also knew that such powers were rumoured to be dark. A very intelligent young witch supposedly foiled the fifteenth century spy, tricked him in some way Neville could not remember.
One thing Neville was beginning to notice was that despite all appearances, the Tonks family was far from normal. Not that he minded. He was enjoying the busyness and cheerfulness of the Tonks household.
Neville found he still had quite a bit of correspondence. Luna was still writing every day though they had stopped talking about Harry and started talking about everyday things. Luna liked explaining the process of making a magazine to Neville, and the activities that occurred in Diagon Alley. Neville regretted that he should have visited her when he went shopping. He did not think he would have another opportunity before the school term began.
Neville would write back to her about the plants he was working with. Luna seemed to be quite interested in what the greenhouse contained and kept on asking if Andromeda happened to keep various species of plants that Neville did not think really existed. Neville would nicely reply that no, Andromeda did not have that species, and spend the rest of the letter explaining the progress he had made with the Mimbulus, or the large order he and Andromeda had spent all day trying to get off to the Ministry or St. Mungo’s.
Luna had not heeded Neville’s warnings about Duck. Her owl would still wait for Neville to write a letter back before leaving. Though some progress had been made. After many evil looks from Andromeda, who thought having an owl in the kitchen was unhygienic, and encouragement from Neville, Duck had decided to stay in Neville’s room as opposed to the kitchen.
Lydia sent her first report in a week like she had promised. Apparently she was having difficulty getting a reason as to why the report was embargoed, though she suspected it was to protect the reputation of a current Ministry employee. She explained once she found out who it was she could make some progress and in the mean time she was tracking down who had signed the order to embargo the information in the first place.
Neville began to feel more confident in his decision to hire her, believing that he could probably never get that done alone. He would not know where to start.
As the summer days became longer and hotter with the sun often shining through the mist and causing a muggy heat, Neville realised that he was reasonably content with his life at the moment. While his house was in rubble, he now had the old tablecloth on his wall to remind him of his past. Yes, there was a war going on, but attacks seemed to be quieting down. And while many were saying that it was the calm before the storm, it seemed like the irrepressible heat was bringing a semi-balance of peacefulness to Britain.
But then one night, when Ted was busy in the kitchen baking himself a large cake for his birthday the next day (Andromeda, as it turned out, was an awful cook and banned by Ted from baking), an owl came flying down the chimney in the lounge where Andromeda and Neville were quietly reading.
Picking it up the note, Andromeda announced that she would need Neville’s help. St Mungo’s was desperately in need of Asphodel. They slaved through the night, Ted occasionally helping out, but he himself heading towards bed while Neville and Andromeda continued into the early hours of the morning.
“I think we’ve earned a well-deserved sleep in this morning,” Andromeda announced as they sent the last parcel away.
It seemed like Neville’s head had barely just hit the pillow when the sun began to shine through the windows of his room. Turning over to go back to sleep he heard Ted walking down the hallway at a quick pace.
“Andi!” he called urgently, as he hurried past Neville’s room. “Andi, it’s on the wireless!” He seemed to be quite panicked. “There’s been an attack in Hogsmeade and…and I think Dora was on duty last night.”
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