Chapter eight - Valentines and a redistribution of information (use what‘s given to you)
Chapter eight – Valentines and a redistribution of information (use what‘s given to you)
Valentine's Day had never ever before mattered, so it came to Leigh as a surprise that he sort of anticipated it. He‘d found an outfit he thought stylish and neutral, considering for some reason he‘d agreed to a date with a Gryffindor. Dark violet looked alright, though he preferred green, even if it hadn‘t been his house colour. For obvious reasons Leigh didn‘t mention his- date to anyone. He did think Neville was sensible enough not to risk going to the Threebroomstick, but if he wasn‘t Leigh could always veto it...
Before he knew it his mind kept spiralling back to the coming weekend every chance he had. It was quite concerning. Though, all that evaporated on the morning of said special day when a skinny yellow eyed owl landed on the table before Leigh. Unlike most owl‘s it didn‘t have the letter bound to its leg, but she was holding the rolled parchment. And unlike most owl‘s she didn‘t drop it, but somehow hurled it at Leigh. In his surprised state it hit him in the neck and he barely caught it before it made it into his plate.
The beastly creature grabbed a toast and went off, while Leigh‘s friends watched it with surprise.
„What was that?“ Laughed Arthur, leaning in to get a better look at the rolled parchment. Leigh, unrolled it and after two sentences closed it hastily. Damnation! He‘d forgotten about Black!
"Oh, my receipt. I bought a new book about Astronomies for the NEWT exams.“
"Already? That‘s more than a year away.“ Arthur exclaimed and distanced himself from Leigh, like being studious was infectious.
„Well, I got it recommended. As today‘s the weekend I don‘t have quill on me. I need to sign this form and send it back.“
He stood up, obviously confusing his friends, and took off. He made it the whole way down into his dorm room until he felt secure enough to read the letter. Hiding himself away behind the curtain he ripped into the seal.
Dear Nephew,
I hope it‘s alright that I call you so. I told you I would write, so I‘m holding myself to that. Firstly, I must apologize for coming to you so quickly. I ended up telling a friend of mine what I did and he was very cross with me for multiple reasons. Especially that I scared you out of nowhere.
Secondly, I would like to tell you more in person, but here‘s the short version: The thing people say I did wasn‘t me. It was rat friend of mine that betrayed them, but I was playing a double game that incriminated me not him. I also have nothing to do with the latest news from the Prophet. I was far away from when that happened.
I know you might not be interested in having contact with me, but I would appreciate it if you did. I know I‘m a stranger to you, but you don‘t feel like a stranger to me. I‘m not saying I want to replace him with you, but it feels like history repeats itself and this time I want to do right by you. Ask me anything, though mind your wording.
I hope to meet you sometime again.
Your Uncle.
"Barmy. Why would he actually write me?“ Leigh sat there for a sold few minutes on his bed, the sliding wardrobe pulled in front of the bed, casing him in. The hovering slightly green, cold light didn’t help him feel less sinister.
So- He just had to trust the mass murder escapee. Why? Because Potter apparently did. Potter! Leigh needed to ask Potter. That would make this a lot less confusing he hoped. With a push he opened up the passage to his bed that was let into the wall. His mind was scheming and rolling around ideas.
If Black hadn’t lied, how would that affect his plans? Would it all? After all Leigh didn’t need Sirius Black, but Potter? So he didn’t need to indulge the man that obviously was working through his own issues. Black would have to deal with his misplaced brother complex somehow else.
But what if Potter and Black were really close? After all, Black had let his dog accompany Potter to Kings cross. So maybe Leigh would have to feed into that whole lost family narrative. If Potter cared about Black that would establish Leigh as a fundamental part in the heroes life.
Or what if Black lied? Who knew if he hadn’t just picked up a dog that looked like Potters. Maybe he was feeling out potential Deatheater recruits and checking whether they would be loyal.
Leigh was forgetting something and he didn’t like it- He stopped by the mirror in the common room. He looked very neat and well-dressed. He- forgot his date with Neville!
Leighton didn’t run. At most he was walking in quick pace or maybe it could be described as a jog. Up four flights of stairs out of the dungeon into the main hall, until he was out in the open. He was at this point heaving, his robes untugged from the unnecessary strain. He looked around, not seeing many students remaining. Filch was by the gate, throwing around suspicious looks. Leigh threw his attention around, when he saw a quick approaching figure. No one was really there, Leigh supposed, so it was fine.
“Leigh-” Neville looked decent. More than decent. Someone had made him wear patternless clothes, unlike his usual love for brown knit wests. His cloak had a deep blue colour and his shoes were polished till shiny. He’d really given it his all and Leigh- looked a mess. Awkwardly, while trying to hide he was doing it at all he picked at the hems of his shirt, trying to tug it straight. “I- I thought you wouldn’t come. Everyone left already.”
“I apologize. I had some unexpected trouble. An Uncle I didn’t expect to hear from reached out. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging.”
“I didn’t think you would. Not really. Ginny said you might ghost me, but obviously not. You didn’t put you hair up today.”
Neville’s hand reached out and tugged a curl back into place. Had he lost his hair tie somewhere? What bad luck. Leigh didn’t want to know how he looked right now. At least Neville appeared appreciative.
“Ghost you? Did Weasley think I would murder you?”
“Oh- No! She meant like leave me hanging. That you might not come.”
“I said I would and I did. Now let’s go. We already waisted the first half hour due to my poor time management.”
Neville held out his elbow. Leigh, confused, stared at it until the Gryffindor let it down again. Great start. Everything was going wrong. With a sigh Leigh decided he owed the younger for the wait and hooked his arm around the other's arm.
“Go on. Lead me, my prince.”
The comment was worth the shocked expression on the Gryffindors face.
Longbottom had actually done his work. He had avoided the more obvious or sinister places. Leigh had feared for the worst when they headed into the direction of Madame Paddifoot’s, but they passed it, right as a crying asian girl came bolting out. Liu Cho Chang threw the door open as Leigh and Neville were in a casual conversation about Quidditch and Muggle remedies as an alternative for Wizards that had built up a resistance against pain potions, when the door got swung open and a wall of sweet perfume hit them. For a second you could see inside the pink shop, where a dumbfounded Potter sat.
Neville ended up with Leigh in a tiny, dingy looking place. The front door looked like it belonged to just another house. Like it was lived in. The one thing that made it stand out was the hand-painted sign: ‘Strocke and Sip, CATTUS NUNC’
“Where have you brought me?” Leigh asked through the side of his mouth as they entered. A lady with a very old school pointed hat greeted them, smiling brightly. It was quite dark and someone had put velvet fabric all over the walls. There were lights that Leigh recognized to be of Muggle origin on the walls, which surprised him as he wasn’t just how that electricity would get into it.
“Welcome, first customers of the day in the Strocke and Sip cat cafe. Magical adoption and petting, this way!” She ushered them along. Cats? Many cats! Leigh stared into the obviously magically enhanced room that spread far. There were sky light’s which gave it a slightly less creepy feel. It was actually quite homely in a old-timey witchy way. It was by itself a normal coffee shop, like many to be found. Just that there were cat trees and other cat related items everywhere. And well- cats. Dozens of them were all over the place. All colours and forms. Some were obviously missing a limb or ear and some seemed to be magic, as their colour was off or they might’ve been half kneezel.
“Surprise.” Neville smiled, as they sat down at one of the better lit tables. “Do you like it? You seem like a cat person, so I hoped-”
“I’m allergic to cats.”
“What?!” Neville almost flew out of the chair, making the whole thing tilt dangerously.
“I’m just kidding.” Well, kinda. Leigh was allergic, but it wasn’t that bad. He had potions he could take later, when the inevitable itching and sneezing would start in a few hours. “It’s not very serious. I actually like cats. It’s like they feel they’re going to cause me pain and enjoy it. They are very Slytherin, aren’t they?”
“I don’t think so-” Neville sat back down and lifted up a fluffy, multi coloured one with huge round eyes. “They look really harmless.”
“So do I, and I’m still in Slytherin. Don’t let the cat fool you, it’s planning your demise. Well, unless you feed it.”
“He wouldn’t do that, right Mr.” He read the tag. “Strubelputzchen? The poor cat. What makes a person name a cat like that?”
“The same thing that made someone come up with this unfortunate name.” Leigh grinned at the black kitty that had perched on the plant desk beside him. “This one is called Mr. Tinkellitzel. I’m pretty sure to ‘tinkel’ in german and means to pee. And he looks so majestic too.”
They looked at each other, both boys very serious and broke out into fits of laughter. The cats fled, leaving them to order from the owner. Laughing like this and doing senseless things were strange to Leigh. Sure, he liked his Slytherin friends, but in the common room you always had to be careful and slipping up was poison for your image. But with Neville, certain that no one would interrupt, he felt quite content being silly and petting stray cats he usually wouldn’t let come close. Half the day was already over and Hogsmeade's lights had turned on in preparation for the night when they left, happy and content. Neville was explaining cats likely always smelled catnip in amourtentia which struck Leigh as logical. He had no idea though, why anyone would think about things like that. Neville‘s plan kinda stopped after the cafe and having a great time. That’s where Leigh remembered again who he was on a date with.
A date. With Neville Longbottom. As they walked side by side, he threw a careful glance out of the corner of his eye. Neville, somehow, had grown a bit taller again, and was now over half a hovering about half a head above the Slytherin. Something Leigh kinda hoped he would get back if he grew some more. The side profile showed how much childish fat had disappeared, leaving a defined jaw. Neville had shining eyes as he described a new spell Potter was working on with him in their little club.
“I can’t produce a Patronus yet, but I had some silvery wisps and Harry said a Patronus is difficult for anyone. Funny, saying that when he managed a corporal one in third year. I wonder what my Patronus will be. It’s supposed to reflect the casters character.”
A Patronus in his third year? Leigh filed that information away. He himself hadn’t even started learning the Patronus yet. Maybe he should. It wasn’t like Dementors were out of you-know-who’s comfort zone.
“I don’t know. Maybe a swan?”
“Why?” Neville looked surprised. “Isn’t that a bit girly?”
“Nothing girly about a swan, the males and females look the same. It’s because-” Leigh hesitated- Because Neville had been an ugly duckling until recently and that sudden change over summer break was giving Leigh whiplash still.
“-I think you got that same fierce protectiveness and a period of change in your life.”
“Oh, that sounds reasonable. It’s kinda romantic, too. You know. With us being on a date. Swan’s-” Neville started to turn peachy pink. “I don’t know where I was going with this. I still think it would be funny if my Patronus turned out to be a plant or something. Some of them have animal like features.”
Corny. Odd. Cute. Leigh needed a cold bath to bring back reason.
“No, no. I get what you mean. But just imagine having a devil snare as a Patronus and it squeezing the Dementor to death.” Leigh giggled, then stopped because that sort of silly sound had been trained away years ago. Why did it have to come back now?
He looked up at Neville, who seemed delighted. The sides of his eyes crinkled when he smiled wide and Leigh wondered whether he’d have smile lines when he got old. It seemed strangely endearing. He wanted to see that.
“What do you think your Patronus would be?”
“Mine?” Leigh thought about it. A snake seemed to on the nose, with being Slytherin and all. He had no clue? What animal would fit him? “I don’t know.”
“Maybe something- Like a fox? Or a bird? Something smart anyway.” Neville decided. “It can’t be too big tho-”
“Oi!” Leigh elbowed the other gently. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m of a respectable height. 1,76 cm isn’t small. Also with a Patronus mental height counts as much as physical.”
"Sure. Perhaps a lion then?”
For a second Leigh was about to agree, when the insinuation finally registered.
“Oh, you think you’re clever? Trying to make me agree to being one of you lions? Never thought trickery was one of your traits Longbottom.”
Neville leaned in with a sly smile. “I’ve got hidden depths.” He whispered.
The skin around Leigh’s ear tingled and the hairs on his arms and neck stood up. This was unfair. How was he supposed to convince himself that this wouldn’t work when Neville Longbottom suddenly changed like that? How can one be a lovable klutz and a flirt at the same time?
“What’s with your face?” Neville leaned away.
“I’m trying not to cringe.” Leigh lied.
Nevilles face crumpled. And just like that the self-confidence was gone. How was Leigh supposed to not feel bad? With an appeasing sigh he took Neville’s hand in his and pulled him along the thin empty streets of Hogsmeade. With one goal in mind he found it quickly.
“A sweet shop?” Neville asked. “I for some reason thought you would bring us to a bookshop.”
“We can still go-”
“No- I wanna go in here. But why not Honeydukes- why ‘Original Dolcesuess’?”
“Because this shop is better. Bio. They offer tours to their farms and green houses so you can see where the produce comes from. Honeydukes just buys different brands and sells them and rarely knows what’s actually inside their sweets.”
“Oh-” Neville blinked. “I sometimes forget you’re high society and picky.”
“I’m not!” Leigh protested.
“Nah, I’m glad for it. It means you saw something in my that’s worth picking over others. -Am I being cringy again?”
‘Yes and it’s bad for my heart.’
“I don’t mind. Just don’t whisper in my ear again.”
Neville opened the lilac door, when he seemingly realized something.
“Did I make you shy?”
“No!” Leigh yelped, very undignified and slightly shrill, as he marched into the shop. Inside were a few students, mostly for some reason Ravenclaw’s, which was good. They generally didn’t care and gossiped less than Hufflepuffs.
“I think I did.” Neville said in a very happy humm.
“No. Take this.” Leigh gabbed the first thing he could grab and pushed it into Neville’s hands. “Choose something. I’m buying.”
“I can-”
“I’m buying. Go choose.” ‘And for Merlins sake stop saying things that make my mind reel!’
Leigh decided that feeling flustered was awful and he preferred being the lord of his own emotions. Thoughtlessly he picked up different sweets, staying with the nuts with white chocolate dip and bunch of dragon egg shaped things that supposedly made it feel like heat was crawling down inside you. That might be a good buy until spring fully set in.
“You like Moltenfire?” Neville asked as he leaned over to look at Leigh’s haul. “Wasn’t there an accident a while ago where it burned someone from the inside?”
“Different brand. If you buy a knock off you should expect knock of level merchandise. Look- it’s the original.” Leigh showed. It had the golden initial of the ministry for being checked over and officially allowed on the market. He took a glance at Neville’s basket where he wound some Marshmallows multiplied when added to a drink and something that looked like a bunch of see-through flower popps. It was pretty and childish. Leigh hadn’t had one since he’d been about five.
“Your taste is pretty infantile.”
“And yours like that one of an old man.” Neville snorted.
“It’s distinguished.”
“Yeah. Old. Like I said.”
Leigh glared, but Neville's face didn’t show any discomfort. Ah, he figured out the difference between the real glare and the fake one. How disappointing.
“You sure you wanna keep dating then. As an old man it’s impossible to take out a child.”
“I don’t mind as long as it’s you.” Neville casually said and took one of the vanille kipferl chocolate bars down for Leigh. “You want this. Your eyes keep going there. Vanille kip-ferl?”
“Vanillekipferl. It’s a german cookie and its pieces are in the chocolate. It’s delicious, but I worry about weight. Hogwarts only sports are Quidditch which only seven in every house play or stairs to go to class. It’s not enough. I need something to do.”
“You could run. I think there are a few students that run around the lake every morning.”
“I hate running. It’s so repetitive and boring.”
“Me too.” Neville agreed. “Maybe try out for Quidditch next year? Are you any good?”
Leigh grinned. Was he any good? He was great.
“Oh, I’m good. But I can’t afford buying everyone on the team new brooms, so unless Malfoy dies or something I won’t be playing.”
“Malfoy? You only play seeker?”
“Any other position doesn’t hold the same glory, also can you imagine me with a bludger?”
“Yeah, not really.”
“See? So- Let me take that.” Leigh took Neville’s basket and headed towards the cashier.
When they marched back it was almost dark and most other students had returned already. It was impossible to see them in the twilight so Leigh felt quite comfortable walking side by side with the Gryffindor. Neville was still talking, more than Leigh had ever heard him talk. Also, he was kinds twisting his hands, which showed anxiousness. It was only when they had to split when Leigh understood it. He had viewed this as a sort of friend date/ trial romantic date, but Neville seemed to be very serious. When Leigh and he stood at the steps to the dungeon Neville kept glancing down, obviously to the lips.
Leighton was tempted. What harm could one kiss do? He felt an intense curiosity as to how kissing Neville might feel like. Would he like it? Would it be awkward?
His Slytherin pragmatism won out though. They were out in the open, which he could explain away. A kiss wasn’t explainable without pinning it all on poor Neville. A kiss might ruin their friendship. Less damning but still a good argument, but most importantly, he would lose his deal with Potter if the other Slytherins started to doubt him.
“Thank you for today, Neville.” Leigh smiled and nodded his head politely. “Monday, same time?”
“I- Yeah, yes. I’ll be there.” The disappointment was obvious and Leigh felt a twist of guilt. He pushed it away like any well-bred Slytherin would and turned and walked away.
„GET THOSE DAMNED PAPERS OUT OF THE CORRIDORS!” Umbridge shrieked, waving a colourful copy of the Quibbler through the air. Leigh blinked and almost stumbled when she pushed the paper into his arms with force. “I do not want to see even one more Qibbler in Hogwarts! All lies and conspiracy against the ministry. Do what you must, but burn every single one of those lies.”
With an angry huff and quivering nostrils she turned and stalked down the corridor towards her study. Leigh sighed as her steps finally clung out and turned around to his fellow Inquisitorial Squat members. They all had read Potters newest interview. Malfoy’s kept brining up details, but no one really cared anymore. Everything was about Potter now.
“We split up. Anyone who finds any Quibbler editions may bring them to me, I will dispose of them by the end of the day.” Leigh ordered. He wasn’t officially their superior, but he was the oldest prefect and generally well liked, so they just went with what he said. Also, Umbridge kept making him responsible for things, so likely she also thought that was his job.
Leigh looked up, and through the group of fifth years he could see Malfoy and as the boy looked up Leigh turned and quickly disappeared down the hallways. His new tack tick was avoidance, which was harder than one thought. How did Malfoy just spawn all the time when they had different lesson plans? The day went mostly alright, his bag turning heavier and heavier by the hour, filling up with Quibblers. By the sixth lesson Leigh had to read up on expansion charms and hope for the best. Simple charms never held as long as the premade ones from the shop, but he didn’t need it to.
Leigh couldn’t really do anything about Umbridge, but he still needed that satisfaction of annoying her, even if she never would find out who did it. So when he heard one Hermione Granger complain in the corridor that the Quibbler got sacked quicker then everyone could buy it Leigh saw a golden opportunity. With a quick look over his shoulder Leigh fixed his attention onto the two boys walking down the hall in good spirit. Sure, they seemed quieter knowing the toad could be hovering close by, but generally the Weasley twins seemed chipper. But also vengeful.
“Fred, I don’t think the swamp is quite ready yet.”
“Nah, it looks good and it’s legit swampy. I don’t think it’s far from perfection.”
“Yeah, but if she gets lucky then it will be gone quickly. We need more sticking charms.”
“Yeah, but that might throw the whole equation. You remember what happened when we tried to open the overcharged prototype.”
Leigh stepped behind them, listening intently to their whispering.
“Perhaps you should think less practical magic and more botany?” He threw in-between their whispers.
“George,” George said. “Look who came by it’s-”
“-little itty bitty Fawley.” Fred finished.
“How fun-”
“Have you been bored without us?”
Leigh rolled his eyes. The twins and he were- cordial? They found him funny in his first year as he had a quiet strong reaction to them smearing his clothes with slime. Since then it had been a ride.
“No, I just meant to say that there are plants that naturally level out magic, inhaling it. So if you were to put some into the swamp you wouldn’t need additional spells and it’s pretty hard to find anything that works around these- fermo stregoneria.” That’s what Neville had called it.
“That sounds-”
“Helpful. But aren’t plants-”
“Expensive?”
“Yes.” Leigh nodded. “But I got something for that as well. Follow me, gents.”
The twins, in true Gryffindor manner, actually followed him into the abandoned classroom. Leigh swished his wand and the lights flared up. He turned around, opening his bag and showing the inside to the twins.
“Are those Quibblers?” Fred (?) said. “How come you have so many?”
“Sacked them and everyone brings them to me.”
“You?”
“I’m the head, sort of, of the squad. I’m supposed to burn them, but it seems a waste. How about we bring them back into circulation?”
“You want us-”
“To sell them back-”
“To the students?”
Leigh nodded. “Make it half prized or whatever. I can’t go around handing them out and you need funding. So what do you think?”
“Can’t really tell if that’s very Slytherin or Gryffindor of you.”
“Yeah, Gred. What do you have from that, Fawley? How much of the cut do you want?”
“None.” Leigh shook his head.
“None?”
“Well, let’s say your joke shop does well I want to get first pick in the investment and shareholder department.”
“First is Harry.”
“Then I’m second.”
“Deal.” Both twins held their hand out and Leigh awkwardly shook both of them at the same time. He dropped the stock into their arms and as they let it disappear into their bags he left the room satisfied with his little revenge. Even he could take only so much Umbridge at one time.