Ch. 161

"Didn't go well, I take it?"

Harry's eyes snapped open as he looked up. Narcissa was standing inside the doorway the Longbottoms had just left through, a wry look on her face. "What gave it away?" Harry asked dryly. "The shouting, or the slamming door?"

"Actually, he almost shoved me down the stairs as he passed me," Narcissa replied, then held up a hand quickly when Harry began to rise, an angry expression on his face. "Don't. I'm all right." She walked over and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Harry sighed and sat back down, as well. "Yeah, well, it doesn't really matter to me what they think of me, but…"

"You had hoped they'd be as forgiving as their kid?" Narcissa chuckled humorlessly. "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, Harry. You'll find a big difference between this new generation of yours and us old-timers. You children are much more tolerant than we'll ever be, I'm afraid. It's just the way we were raised."

Harry nodded gravely, then leaned forward. "How are you holding up? I didn't get a chance to talk to you since Draco's funeral."

"I'm… okay," she said hesitantly. "He is… was my son, and it hurts. Oh Merlin, it hurt, seeing him lying there on that slab…"

"I'm sorry," Harry began, only to be waved off.

"He chose his path. I knew full well what could happen once I left Lucius. Draco… he was always so much like his father. Ambitious, easily tempted." Narcissa managed a weak smile. "I… I probably failed him as a mother."

Harry just sat there, staring at her for a few moments, unsure of what to do. The Draco he'd known had always been a jerk, and he couldn't really imagine him as anything else. Finally, he settled on covering her hand with his. "I don't think you did," he told her. "You made some bad choices that allowed him - and you - to be influenced by Voldemort, but in the end, he was responsible for his own way in life."

"I know." Narcissa smiled at Harry. "I never really said thank you, did I? For what you did for me."

"You needed help. I was able to," Harry shrugged. "I am… glad I did."

"So am I."

...

"Neville, we're leaving. Pack your things. Right now."

The boy looked up, startled at the angry look in his father's eyes. "What?"

"You heard me, Neville. Pack your things. We're leaving this place."

"Why? I thought the doctors said-"

"Your friend is an evil maniac," Frank hissed angrily. "I can't believe he actually had you fooled! What did your grandmother teach you?"

"What?" Neville's eyes were wide. "What are you talking about?"

"That… that woman !" Frank spat. "Lestrange!"

"You mean Bella?"

"You know her?"

"Well… yes." Neville shrugged. "She's Harry's wife. It's kind of hard not to know her."

"You-"

Neville sighed as he realized what his parents's problem was. "Look, please, just calm down and listen-"

"You knew that woman was here all this time and didn't tell us?!"

"We knew you'd react this way, and-"

"She's dangerous !" Alice cried. "She almost killed us!"

"She took us away from you for the last fifteen years," Frank added.

Neville set himself. The discussion he'd had with Bella hadn't been easy on him, but he'd come to realize a few home truths. Holding grudges for what was in the past didn't help in looking towards the future - that was one of them. "That was a long time ago," he began. "She's different now."

"No, she's not!" Frank snarled, almost grabbing Neville by his lapels. "People like them don't ever change! All they want is to kill and torture others for their own perverse pleasure!"

"She's not like that, not anymore," Neville defended, but he couldn't really get another word off before his father slapped him.

"Has she gotten to you, too? What, is she sleeping with every goddamn kid in this castle?" Frank screamed. His wife tried to place a hand on his arm, but he shook it off. "What the hell is the matter with you, Neville? That woman put us in a coma for the last fifteen years, and you're defending her!"

"Dad-"

"No, Neville, we're going, right now!"

The boy frowned. His parents were mad - beyond mad, even, and he couldn't really fault them. But couldn't they see that it would only do harm for them to hold on to their hatred? It wasn't as if they had to suddenly start liking Bella - Neville was far from it, himself, but they were cordial, even friendly at times. It had lifted a terrible burden from his shoulders when he'd agreed to let the past go, a burden he'd not even been aware he'd been carrying. He'd been tense every time Bella had entered the room, but now, that tension was gone, replaced by pride… in himself, that he'd managed to jump beyond his own shadow, and at her, for managing to turn her life around. And it felt good.

"No, Dad," he whispered.

"What?"

"I said, no, I'm not leaving, Dad."

"What did you say?"

Neville blinked in confusion. He just knew he'd just said that clearly. "I said-"

"I heard what you said! You're coming with us, young man, and there'll be no discussion! With any luck, we can undo whatever brainwashing she did to you."

"I wasn't-"

Neville suddenly found himself being dragged along as his parents stormed out of the room towards the fireplace in the main hall. When they stopped, he finally managed to get his arm out of his father's vise-like grip. "I wasn't brainwashed, Dad!"