WELCOME

spring 2022, forbidden forest

The break of dawn.

Not a time you would normally find students awake, ever. Nor, considering it was a Saturday, would you find too many teachers awake. The groundskeeper, perhaps. Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology teachers, thanks to rather strict timetables with certain specimens. Astronomy and Divination on the rare occasion of a celestial alignment at daybreak. So, seeing Professor Longbottom awake should surprise nobody else—if indeed anyone else was up. Nor would it be particularly surprising to find him in the Forbidden Forest, a scant thirty yards from the treeline, just out of sight of the castle. Neville often wandered far deeper into the forest, which held nothing to frighten him, and which was lush with herbs and plants that could supplement the Potions stores and the medical supplies. It was hardly an uncommon occurrence, although students typically did not see him in the Forest, as it was off limits—even if the third years and up had gone this far into the Forest with Professor Winchester, few were willing to risk a detention, even from clumsy, kindly Professor Longbottom.

What would, perhaps, surprise those who came across him right now? Well, the eight shaking boxes spread out around him might. Neville was not known for his skill on a broomstick, that was for certain. It had been said about him by some students that he was a prodigious Herbologist because nothing else worked out for him. So what, then, would he possibly need eight Bludgers for? Neville stood in a clearing, eight boxes spaced evenly around him, though each one was a different distance away, from right beside him to ten yards away. His robe hung on a tree nearby, leaving him wearing a t-shirt and loose jeans, along with the battered, dirt-caked shoes he always wore. His wand in his hand, the Head of Gryffindor was taking steady, deliberate breaths. He was no longer a soldier, no longer an Auror, no longer the leader of those forced to fight too young. But Neville was deceptively powerful. After two decades, he was still on the reserve and emergency rosters for the Aurors. He still had Harry's backing in any action he undertook. And his presence at Hogwarts was considered adequate Ministry protection, one reason so little action had been taken (the other reason being Minerva was still a scary old witch). With that in mind, he had to remain in shape, and that meant regular training. This early, in the Forbidden Forest, on Saturdays, were his usual training time. What student would be out here, especially nowadays? Neville waved his wand, and the boxes began to release Bludgers one at a time.

The professor vanished, replaced by the Auror.

The nearest box, almost right under him, released its Bludger, which instantly flew directly at Neville. But the teacher sidestepped, grabbing the enchanted ball with his left hand. But rather than fight it, he spun on his heel, forcing the Bludger's momentum to shift and flinging it outward, where it intercepted a second one. A Shield Charm blocked two more as Neville deftly rolled under another and began moving out of the clearing. No time to think. Dodge. Roll. Catch and redirect. Shield. Repelling Charm. Move towards the trees. Jump! Clsoe one, it had come from behind. Keep moving. Dodge and weave. Predict. Duck now! Two ricochet off each other directly overhead, one knocking a third off course. Shield wards two more off. Almost to the treeline. Excellent training for when caught alone in the open—most exhilarating fight he'd ever been in. Recall that moment, the power, the grace. Bludger missed face by an inch—room to spare. Spin duck cast, four more dodged. Two coming together. Binding Curse sticks them together and they careen into a tree nearby, getting stuck for a moment. Jump HARD. No high enough, redirect Bludger with free hand. Successful, it buries into the ground. Roll aside. Three more coming.

A light sheen of sweat was beginning to form on Neville's face.

He grinned and raised his wand.

Victoire had been unable to sleep, tossing and turning most of the night. By the time dawn was breaking, she had decided a walk was in order to clear her head. She would need her wits about her if she was going to handle the almost regular onslaught of students going in and out of the infirmary. To think Victoire had thought coming to the castle to work as an assistant would be something of a bore. Up until this year the worst thing that had ever happened to students had been a Quidditch accident, or a spell gone awry. Sure there had been serious events during her parents' era, but in the years after that there had been a nice lull... a lull that now seemed to be completely gone, leaving an erratic, and uncertain mess in its place.

It certainly didn't help that Professor Trelawney had professed a prophecy of sorts -- one that Victoire was still trying to wrap her head around. It would have been so much easier if the woman didn't have the sight at all, or had continued to see absolutely nothing of worth. She had been completely harmless warning of candlesticks and lace, and all that. But now... well, now things were quite different. She hadn't sounded like she normally did, and Victoire had actually been scared for a moment. The prophecy hadn't been expected, nor had it been very welcome. The wise thing to do would be to share it with another person, and then sort it out together... but with so many things going on at the castle, Victoire was loathe to add to the troubles already on Professor McGonagall's shoulders.

That was why she wasn't sleeping at night. Victoire's mind kept going back to the prophecy and what it meant, stressing her out more more than any amount of studying had ever done while she had been a student. But no amount of turning the prophecy around in her mind could make it make sense, so Victoire was almost relieved when she thought she saw a figure dart into the Forbidden Forest. She hadn't seen who it was, but her mind quickly jumped to a student. It didn't occur to her to even think of another member of staff, which showed just how exhausted she really was that morning. And it also didn't occur to Victoire to go for another member of staff to bring that student back in. She merely changed her course, moving toward the forest, muttering under her breath.

She was wise enough to pull out her wand as she moved into the forest, her eyes seeking out the path that the student had taken. A noise from further in told her she didn't really need a path; she only had to follow the sounds. So she did. Victoire was already working out what she would say to the student when she found him, and trying to remember if she could take house points away or not. It likely didn't matter; Victoire had every intention of turning them over to their head of house. Hopefully it would be someone strict, that way a proper punishment would be exacted for breaking the rules. And such were Victoire's line of thoughts that she didn't even think to see who the student was before she started berating him the moment she came across the clearing.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing out h--- Professor Longbottom?" She finally caught herself at the end, realizing that the person she had just followed was not a student, but a member of staff. And not just any member of staff, but Professor Longbottom. "I'm so sorry -- I thought I had been following a student breaking the rules. If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have dared to come. What are you doing so early in the morning?" Victoire looked around, taking stock of the situation. She had an idea what was going on, but she couldn't be quite sure.

This was no dance of death. The Bludgers did not move as quickly as the spells he'd dodged for so many years, could not match the speed or accuracy of the Avada Kedavra, the green light of instant death that had come within an inch of ending the Longbottom bloodline dozens of times over the course of his life. But they were still dangerous, they were relentless, and they could change course, making them harder to dodge overall than spells. It was a fair approximation of being besieged by attackers on all sides, caught in the open and unprepared. He rolled backwards, avoiding a Bludger that turfed the ground where he was, and nearly got smacked in the face by a second. That was the other good part—calculating the locations of all the Bludgers required his brain to make rapid-fire adjustments to an internal map of the area, keeping track of his “opponents” and predicting their pass courses. If he was right, he kept two steps ahead of the assaults. If he was wrong, well, hopefully he'd be found before the wooden balls beat him to death. Luckily, Neville had yet to be wrong in this situation, and as he rolled around a tree, taking advantage of the Bludger's poor turning capabilities, he smiled. Nothing like a good workout in the morn—

“What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing out h--- Professor Longbottom?”

Crap.

Neville turned to see Victoire Weasley at the edge of the clearing, staring in shock at him. Time seemed to telescope: now, with another person to protect, Neville's real instincts came to the front. He heard Victoire's apologies, heard her question, but didn't register them just yet. There were more important things to deal with at the moment. Okay...okay...there. That was the best plan. Neville pointed his wand at one of his not-quite-nieces, and a Shield Charm blossomed just beside her. An instant later, a Bludger slammed into it and deflected off. The Lion of Gryffindor ducked, letting another one pass by over his head, and fired a Summoning Charm. The force of the charm was such that, when he summoned her clothing, Victoire was yanked into the air towards him. He caught her around the waist with a surprisingly firm grip and aimed his wand behind her. Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Five Reductor Curses lanced out. Five Bludgers exploded into clouds of sawdust. Neville spun to his side and slashed through the air. Sectumsempra cut through the air itself, intercepting the last two Bludgers, bisecting both, and four lifeless hunks of wood landed around the pair on the forest floor.

Neville took a deep breath, calming himself, as the world gradually returned to its normal speed. He set Victoire down on her feet. That could have been bad. But he wasn't angry—after all, she couldn't have known what she was walking into, this wasn't her fault. Luckily, he hadn't been using the school's Bludgers. They weren't terribly expensive, and he and Luna made plenty of money in their respective jobs. “Are you alright?” he asked her; there was a chance she'd been hurt when he'd yanked her through the air, though she didn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort, merely shocked at the situation. Neville had a quick mental fight with himself. Most people not present for the Second Battle of Hogwarts had scarce details on the actual fight itself, and didn't know how important he'd been to the battle. The Weasley kids had more information than most, perhaps; most of them were told to look for Neville if any trouble started, which was a clue if they thought about it. And he didn't like talking about the things he'd seen and done. But Victoire was a staff member of Hogwarts, so she had a right to know, if not the details, at least what the Head of House was capable of. “Victoire...what do you know about the Second Battle of Hogwarts?”

Everything seemed to happen very fast. So fast that Victoire didn't necessarily have time to process anything. One minute she was apologizing for coming across Professor Longbottom in what appeared to be a private exercise of magic, and the next thing she knew a bludger was heading straight for her. Victoire froze, as was only natural, though she did manage to put up her hands before her face at the very last minute. But Professor Longbottom seemed to have his wits about him, and he cast a charm on her to shield her from the bludger... and seconds later she found herself flying through the air and being caught by the professor around the waist.

Victoire tried to gather her thoughts as she caught her breath. This served her right for dashing off into the forest without knowing who exactly she was following, and without knowing exactly what she might be walking into. She could probably come up with a few reasons why this had been justified -- like the fact that she hadn't known who the person was, and being safe was better than being sorry. But right now that was a bit hard to remember.

She stepped away from Professor Longbottom as he let her go, turning slowly once she felt she had recovered enough. Her mouth opened as though she was going to say something, but she let it fall closed again, studying the professor thoughtfully. In all her own years of being a student, Victoire couldn't quite remember how that spell was supposed to work, but she wanted to say it shouldn't have gone quite like that. But then again, as far as Victoire knew, most people weren't made part of spells in that manner. Most were either hexed in another sort of way... There wasn't much need for such types of spells anymore. Well, not in her line of work... and she would have thought not in Professor Longbottom's line of work either.

"I'm fine, thank-you. A bit surprised, I think, but nothing I won't recover from." She chose to ignore mentioning that she was winded as well; she figured that would have been obvious given her shock from a few moments ago. "I really didn't mean to disturb you. I had thought I was following a student, and it had seemed like the logical thing to do, to follow after them. It's probably just as well since I can't remember whether or not I have the actual authority to take away house points." And she was also quite glad to find that the person wasn't any of her cousins out causing mischief. The thought had flickered across her mind momentarily.

A small frown worked its way across her face at the question posed to her. "The Second Battle of Hogwarts? I suppose about the same as anyone else who had a parent involved. Why do you ask?" Victoire had grown up with stories about that particular battle, as she had assumed, had most other students of her generation. After all, most, if not all of them, had had parents involved in the battle -- and while a few likely didn't talk a great deal about it, Victoire had assumed most had been told something to remember for the future. After all, fighting and winning wasn't quite the moral of the story, and her parents had certainly made sure she knew that.

But she wasn't entirely sure why Professor Longbottom seemed interested to know what she knew.

Victoire was fine. That was good, he didn't want anyone hurt during his training, which was kind of why he came out here to do it. He probably should have used the Room of Requirement, but its ability to simulate outdoor areas was very limited, so it couldn't be his only training place. The young assistant had only been looking out for a potential student's safety, and so he waved her apology off as unnecessary. If he'd been paying more attention, he'd have seen her and waved. Neville going into the forest was a common enough occurrence that Victoire probably wouldn't have thought twice about it. He smiled as she revealed that she wasn't aware of whether or not she could mess with House Points. “You do. I'd say you rank higher than a Prefect in the authority department. Though if you'd caught someone from my House and all you did was take points, I promise you they would thank you on bended knee.” He didn't take excursions into the forest lightly, especially as Neville had firsthand experience of all the horrible dangers that lurked out here.

“The Second Battle of Hogwarts? I suppose about the same as anyone else who had a parent involved. Why do you ask?”

Neville was silent for a moment. Most of the senior staff were aware of the exact circumstances surrounding the argument between Minerva McGonagall and Minister Shacklebolt, but Victoire was not. He waved his wand at the ground, pulling a handful of seeds from his pocket and tossing them as he did so. Within seconds, vines, bushes, and moss sprouted and began to grow. They followed the motions from Neville's wand like a guide, growing in tandem to the almost singsong spell he was muttering under his breath. After a moment, two flowery armchairs with thick moss cushions were growing right in the middle of the Forest. “Have a seat, and I'll explain why I asked that.” He say down himself, fiddling with a yellow flower on one arm. After a moment, he ran his hands lightly over the petals, and they swelled in size, growing and shifting to a reddish hue. Then he looked back at Victoire. “I'm sure you know I was part of Dumbledore's Army. Almsot every student knows that. I'm proud of it, and I wear the fake Galleon around my neck wherever I go. And I suspect you, like nearly all the students I've had, believe me to be just a normal member. Still worthy of respect, but not important.”

“I was the Leader of Dumbledore's Army in my final year of Hogwarts. I was the one who trained them, helped them survive the Carrows. I was one of the leaders during the Second Battle of Hogwarts. Lionheart, they called me.”

There was no hint of boastfulness in his voice. Neville was not ashamed of his actions, but they were painful to talk about, not nearly as heroic or romantic as the students would imagine if he told them. “Victoire, I have more blood on my hands from that night than anyone else you've met, save maybe Seamus Finnigan. I fought and survived on the front lines. I even faced Voldemort directly, only minutes before Harry brought him down. Afterwards, Harry, Ron and I were tasked with rebuilding the Auror office while Kingsley went on to become Minister. Ron took time to help George move on first, but the three of us made the Auror office what it is today.” He paused for a moment, listening to the heavy, distant gallop of the centaurs as they hunted through the trees. He wondered idly how Firenze's boy was doing. “I tell you this because I want you to understand: I am an extremely skilled duelist. If this school comes under attack, the current rule is that all power is given to me until the attack is suppressed and the danger has passed. Kingsley wanted to sent a battalion of Aurors—ten of them—here when the accidents started. McGonagall told him to shove off. They fought about it, and the problem was, neither one was wrong. Harry finally reached a compromise: He reinstated my position as Auror and said that my presence constituted the presence of an Auror battalion.” He didn't point out the fact that both McGonagall and Kingsley agreed with the assessment, because that really would be bragging.

“So, as I'm now both an Auror and a teacher, it becomes doubly important that I stay in top condition, particularly if these accidents continue to scale in size or violence.” Not that he needed a reason to stand up and fight for this school or the people within it.

"Considering how many relatives I have in Gryffindor, they'd probably assume I was being easy on them because we're related. It's probably just easier to avoid having to take any points away so I don't have to endure complaints at all our family gatherings... major holidays... or when they corner me in the infirmary," added Victoire as she tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. She could imagine a few of her cousins doing that more than others, though they probably all knew doing so would be pointless. Victoire wasn't one to give in to anyone, let alone a member of the family. If anything, she was probably harder on her family so they didn't think they could get away with getting special treatment and the like.

The blonde watched as Neville used magic to create two chairs, taking a seat as she was bid to do so. Sometimes it was easy to forget how easy magic made things, or how simply wonderful it was. Victoire lost sight of that fact when she was immersed in the healing arts, the likes of which used difficult magic to save lives and create cures. Perhaps it was a bit nerdy of her to prefer magic with a little more difficulty because it kept her on her toes, but she couldn't deny that she didn't like the simpler spells that existed either. She simply needed to get herself to use them more rather than make everything so darn difficult.

But this wasn't the place to be concerned about such things. Professor Longbottom was speaking again, and Victoire found herself listening, trying to figure out what had brought about such words. Even though they were peers now, that hadn't always been the case. He had been her teacher as well, and Victoire still saw him as the authority figure, and her as a student. She would probably always feel that way around many of the teachers at Hogwarts. Those that had taught her had helped make her into the person she was today, so coming to think of them, or even to call them by their real names other than "Professor" was a bit difficult for the likes of Victoire. She wondered if others had that same problem... or if it was just a result of her thinking things over much too much again.

It was even harder to think of herself as an equal to the likes of Professor Longbottom as he explained his role during the war. Victoire had heard bits and pieces about the war from her parents, and even from the history books, but not quite like this. Her parents had always been good enough to answer questions when asked... but Victoire had learned to shush her sisters whenever they grew curious about the war. Victoire always saw glimpses of sadness in her parents' eyes, and she didn't like the idea of dredging up bad feelings just to satisfy someone's curiosity. That being said, Victoire hadn't known about Professor Longbottom's role during the war. She had heard others label him as a hero, but as far as she could tell, she had figured everyone else had been labeled a hero of sorts as well. They had all fought, lost people they loved, and survived. Living with such memories was heroic enough.

"I hadn't known all that," she agreed after a moment. "Curious as I have ever been about the war, I never liked the look that crossed my mother's face, or the darkness that appeared in father's eyes when asked about that time. Sometimes I think it's better left unsaid, hence why I don't push them for more details. I can't imagine what it had been like back then..." Victoire trailed off, unsure what to add. It seemed a bit silly to admit she was afraid to know too many details of that time. Part of her wanted to be blissfully unaware of what exactly occurred back then, if only because then it would prevent her from trying to compare it to whatever was going on now.

That was why when Professor Longbottom went on to say he had been reinstated as an Auror while here at the castle that the comparison returned to Victoire's mind. How could it not? "You don't think something... bad is going to happen, do you?" she asked suddenly. "Worse than what has already occurred? Because if you do... isn't there more that can be done? Some sort of squad that can come in over the summer to do a sweep over the castle to be sure it's safe for next term? Or perhaps a meeting for the staff to..." Victoire sighed. "I don't even know what to suggest they do, and perhaps that's the problem. But with so many things happening, and growing more frequent... I can't imagine how you're hoping to protect all the students."

Victoire couldn't help but think back to the prophecy she had heard when Professor Trelawney had been in one of her trances. It made her grow cold for a moment, wondering if perhaps she was in the dark on something else in regards to the accidents. "Professor... what do you know about the castle's history? As in the building of it and everything?"