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Still Life	By : Pat Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2375 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
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- 6
See Part I for Summary and Disclaimers~
Neville swept the broom around the first floor of Hengist's house in an attempt to tidy up. It was a constant battle to keep dust and dirt from sneaking inside the house, especially since Hengist was reluctant to use his wizarding skills to re-power a cleaning charm every day.
As Hengist had succinctly put it, "I need to keep every bit of power I have to help our village." He considered it sheer laziness to be unwilling to do a little manual housecleaning. He told Neville that one of the things his former master had insisted on was that Hengist know all the life skills that he would need to manage on his own. That included cooking, cleaning, darning as well as animal husbandry. These were all part of his wizarding training under DeMarchant.
Neville blushed when he remembered how the Hogwarts House Elves had done everything for him and the rest of the students. They cleaned up the dormitories after the boys, pressed and cleaned their clothes, prepared all their meals... Hengist indeed would have been disgusted by what he would see as sloth on the part of the students. Neville carefully avoided the subject.
Luckily for Neville, his Granny had early on made sure he was well able to take care of himself should he be declared a squib. The family had been justifiably worried about Neville's lack of progress in the magical arena until, almost by chance, his wizard abilities had shown a late blooming.
Hengist murmured and kept stirring the porridge that was to be their breakfast. Neville's stomach rumbled loudly. He was very, very hungry. And there were no sweets in the house to nibble on. Looking down at his body, Neville concluded that it was probably just as well, he'd eaten far too many sweets as it was in his lifetime.
Hengist chuckled.
"I can here your stomach from all the way over here. The porridge will be ready in a few minutes. I'll just go and get us some fresh milk to put into it," he said as he rose from the fireplace.
"What kind of milk?" Neville asked curiously.
"Why, goat milk, my boy," he grinned. "Only the best for my guest," Hengist said laughing as he walked out the front door.
Neville finished sweeping up and then began to set out two bowls and spoons. He still couldn't get used to the idea of having no napkins so he brought over a clean cloth from the mantle just in case of spills.
While he was waiting, he got up every few minutes to stir the porridge to prevent it from burning.
Hengist came back in the front door carrying a bucket.
"Good milking this morning, remind me to start teaching you tomorrow how to do it," Hengist said.
"Me? Milk a goat? I'm not sure I'd be any good at it, I'm rather clumsy, you know," Neville said, a bit uneasy.
Hengist looked curiously at the robust young man. This wasn't the first time he'd seemed shy or reluctant to take on a task. Yet Hengist knew that Neville wasn't lazy. In fact, he was most willing to address the tasks Hengist assigned him. Most perplexing.
"Neville, bring the bowls over here," Hengist said as he set down the bucket of milk beside the fireplace.
Neville brought both bowls over and Hengist filled them halfway up with porridge and then added the goat milk to both of them.
Neville carried them back to the table and he and Hengist sat down opposite each other. For a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of eating.
Hengist paused when he was about half way through his meal.
"Neville, will you answer a question for me?" he said.
Neville looked up a bit nervously from his breakfast.
"Of course, if I can," said Neville.
Hengist ran his question over and over in his mind. How to phrase this?
"I noticed that you seem quite...tentative in trying new things...almost afraid. Why do you suppose that is?" Hengist said as he slowly scooped out some more of the porridge and busied himself eating it to give Neville a moment to think.
Neville put down his spoon, his appetite having vanished with the gentle question.
"Well, that is, I...I'm a bit of a failure, you see," said Neville in a composed voice.
Hengist's eyebrows almost rose to his hairline but he kept his peace. Neville was the kind of man who needed time to place his thoughts together.
With gentle prodding, Hengist asked various questions about Neville's family history and training. He learned of Neville's parents, Neville's early failure, his relative's despair, even his failures in the potions classroom.
The talk continued for several hours. At the end of it Neville felt exhausted but better. Now Hengist knew what kind of wizard he might be depending upon. He searched Hengist's face for any kind of disgust or sympathy but saw none.
"For magical folk supposedly so wise they show little gift for teaching," he said slowly. "My master showed me that every wizard has their own gifts and learns in their own way, this potions master sounds a bit of a shrew as well," said Hengist with a small growl.
Neville giggled at the idea of anyone calling Professor Snape a shrew.
"You have your gifts, Neville, never doubt that. Don't let others decide your course in life," he said gruffly, reaching over with his hand and covering Neville's.
Neville felt something hard and twisted inside him relax. Hengist believed in him. A spreading warmth filled him and he smiled brilliantly at his new friend and mentor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Neville was washing up after breakfast when he heard someone calling for Hengist just outside the front door of the house. Hengist had left about an hour before, telling Neville that he needed to make his rounds of the farms---looking for sick animals and generally offering aid to the local farming populace that supplied Hogsmeade with most of its vegetables and grains. It was a regular weekly event and the farmers repaid Hengist for his services with meat and grains.
Neville quickly dried his hands and went to the front door. A youngish man in his twenties with dark brown hair and a beard held a child of about five years of age cradled in his arms. The child was wailing and squirming in what Neville assumed to be his father's arms since the child looked exactly like him.
"I'm sorry, Hengist isn't here at the moment, he'll be back later in the day," Neville said.
The young bearded man looked shaken.
"My boy, James, has broken his arm in a fall. I need Hengist to mend it. We'll have to wait," he said, his face paling.
Neville looked closer at the youngster, he could indeed see that the boy's arm was sticking out at an awkward angle. A bad break then. He sucked air in between his teeth wincing in sympathy. He'd suffered a bad fall when he was a child, falling out of a tree, and had broken his arm in two places. He'd remembered how painful it had been waiting for treatment from the local medi-witch.
Neville nibbled at his bottom lip. He could help this boy. He knew the spell for healing broken bones, even if he'd never tried it before. Looking at the tear-stained boy, he knew he had to offer.
"Come in and sit down with James. Maybe I can help," said Neville, waving the man in.
"Thank you," the man said with some relief as he walked into the house, gently cradling his son.
The man sat down on one of the chairs by the table, attempting to soothe his son.
"Mister..." Neville began.
"John, John Malfoy," said the man. "I'm the blacksmith here in Hogsmeade."
Neville was a bit startled at that. He peered closely at the man. He looked nothing like Lucius or Draco. Still, it was what, nineteen or twenty generations back? This man could indeed be a member of that family. He stifled a smile at the idea of Draco's ancestor being the village smithy.
The child wailed loudly again and Neville's attention snapped back to the boy.
"I'm...I'm a wizard myself. My name is Neville Longbottom and I'm staying with Hengist...for a while. I know a healing spell that'll reset James arm, that is, if you want me to try," Neville said less sure of himself than he'd been five minutes ago.
John Malfoy's look of relief was palpable.
"Yes, if you please, sir. If I've missed Hengist, then chances are he won't be back soon, eh?"
Neville nodded and went over to the darning basket where he was keeping his wand.
"Yes, he's out for the day going around to all the local farms to help out," he said absently.
"Ah, then it's a blessing you're here," Malfoy said, looking down at his son and smiling. "See, Jamie, the wizard will make you better," he said.
The little boy sniffed and swallowed hard trying to be brave.
"Truly, papa?" he said with a watery smile.
"Lay him down on the table," Neville said, clearing off the table.
Malfoy gently laid his burden down, being cautious not to jostle his son's arm inadvertently.
A fine sweat started to break out on Neville's brow. 'What if I get this wrong? Could I hurt the boy?' Neville thought.
Both father and son looked expectantly at Neville.
Neville took a deep breath. He had to get this right on the first try. They were depending on him.
Nevi's h's hands were trembling as he pointed his wand and as he intoned the words, remembered to swish and flick his wand as Professor Flitwick had shown them in Charms Class.
As he intoned the spell, Neville felt warmth rising from his wand. He shut his eyes tightly and willed the spell the work.
As the last words of the healing charm were spoken Neville found himself unwilling to open his eyes.
"Papa! The pain's gone," squealed the little boy.
Neville's eyes popped open. He looked at the father chuckling and hugging his son. Both of the boy's arms were wound tightly around his neck. He had done it. He'd healed the little boy. Neville grinned. Professor Flitwick would have been so pleased.
The little boy squirmed out of his father's arms.
"What do you say, Jamie?" his father prompted.
"Thank you for healing me," the boy said shyly and then shocked Neville by throwing his arms around him and hugging him.
Neville felt tears pricking the back of his eyes and sniffled a bit as he whispered into the boy's ear, "It was my pleasure, James."
Neville's heart swelled with pride and happiness as he gently checked the boy's arm. Everything was perfect.
Malfoy cleared his throat.
"I have no money to pay you, but I can offer my services to you in repayment. My Smithy is at your disposal," Malfoy said.
Neville was about to decline payment but he hesitated. This was a proud man who paid his debts. To refuse his offer would be to treat him as a charity case and would be insulting.
Neville just nodded.
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Hengist and I will be sure to take you up on your offer," he said.
The man grinned. "Please call me John. And drop by soon. My wife will want to thank you herself. Comr dir dinner. My wife makes a wonderful meat pie. We'd be honoured if you and Hengist could join us," he said, clapping his hand on Neville's shoulder.
Neville felt a burst of happiness. He'd made some more friends. Hogsmeade was beginning to feel like home to him. It was a strange and unexpected sensation.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Back at Hogwarts...
The Ministry had been called in to supervise the investigation surrounding the mysterious disappearance of young Neville Longbottom. Some theorized, Professor Snape among them, that Longbottom had just run away from Hogwarts. Others, including Harry, Hermione and Ron, felt there must have been foul play involved, and that Neville had been the victim of some sort of magical attack. None of the Hogwarts Professors or Aurors from the Ministry could find a trace of him, no matter how many locater spells they used.
It was several days into the search for Longbottom that a young Ravenclaw had noticed something quite odd. The picture on the stairs was different. She saw two young men walking hand in hand down the middle of Hogsmeade. Surely, there had been only Hengist of Woodcroft there before? She decided to ask her head of house about this interesting phenomenon.
tbc
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Still Life