Strange Attractors, Chapter 2

[maudite_a_deux]

here's the next bit. a bit shorter than the first part, but the next scene i had in mind just doesn't seem to fit logically in this chunk. let me know if it seems *too* short or you feel it's missing something.

Strange Attractors
Chapter 2

"Rosemary, that's for remembrance."
-- William Shakespeare

~ * ~

Not wanting to miss anything, Hermione was early for the staff meeting. When she arrived, the faculty lounge was empty except for someone who looked very familiar, hunched over in his seat, doodling in a sketchbook. But she couldn't quite place him --

He looked up and his face brightened. "Hermione!" he exclaimed, and got to his feet, his sketchbook and quill slipping to the floor forgotten. "It's great to see you!"

"Neville!" she hugged him tightly. "How have you been? It's been simply years! You've got Herbology now, right?"

"Yes, ever since Professor Sprout's accident. You look amazing," he said, stepping back to take a look at her. She felt her face color a little, and wondered when Neville of all people had become so confident. In their student days, he'd never have been able to say something like that without stammering and blushing, but all she saw in his face now was honest admiration. It wasn't at all a bad face, either. He'd grown into his stocky build and become, if not a handsome man, at least a not-unattractive one.

"You're a terrible liar," she protested. "My hair's a disaster."

"No, honestly. You look wonderful. I'm so glad you're here. It's brilliant to have someone else from our year on staff other than Malfoy ."

"Oh no. That bad, is he?"

"Well... I didn't mean it quite like that." He shrugged. "I mean, sure, he's still Malfoy, but at least he doesn't go around playing pranks and calling people nasty names all the time. It's just that he's not someone I really want to talk to.

"Rest assured, Longbottom, the feeling is mutual."

That arrogant drawl could belong to only one person. She turned to face Malfoy, who was standing in the doorway with a characteristic smirk. Merlin's beard, she thought. He's gorgeous.

Draco had always been good-looking, but when they were schoolmates she'd been too busy hating him to pay much attention. Now she fought not to stare. He was, as always, impeccably dressed. His features had matured, and their new sharpness was emphasized by his hair, no longer slicked back, nearly shoulder-length and the same silvery ash-blond as his father's. It looked as soft as silk, as light as eiderdown, and she had a sudden, terrible urge to reach out and touch it.

"Malfoy," she acknowledged, marshalling all her resources of self-control.

"Granger," he responded with a twitch of one eyebrow, and casually brushed past her to sit at the long conference table.

The other faculty members trickled in over the next few minutes, and several stopped to welcome her before the meeting began. Even Professor Snape greeted her, polite if not precisely cordial. The meeting itself was brief and to the point. She didn't allow herself to so much as glance at Malfoy. So what if he was gorgeous? He was still an arrogant, bigoted prat with more money than morals. What Minerva had been thinking when she invited him to teach here, Hermione couldn't begin to fathom.

~ * ~

She spent far too much of the afternoon catching up with Neville in the greenhouse, which was as lush as she remembered. He was eager to hear the latest news about Ron and Harry.

"Harry's still surfing in Hawaii," she told him. "An 'extended vacation', he calls it."

"Hawaii," Neville echoed, pausing in the midst of gingerly repotting a stinging nettle. "I'd like to visit Hawaii. Amazing range of flora. 173 varieties of hibiscus on the big island alone..." he trailed off and gave her a guilty glance, his cheeks flushing.

She just smiled at him. It was wonderful to see him so thoroughly caught up in his element. "What's this?" she asked, stopping in her circuit of the greenhouse to examine an unfamiliar vine, enclosed in a column of fine mesh but looking as though it was ready to burst forth at any moment.

"Pueraria montana. It's a horrible pest in the American south. They call it kudzu." He came over and gazed at it fondly. "It's related to lupine, and grows so quickly it would be a cheap and easily available alternative for use in potions. Snape has been experimenting with it. Not much luck so far, but he's, well, not exactly optimistic, you know Snape, but he thinks it will work if he can find the right proportion to substitute. The trouble is, it has to be contained or it kills everything in its path, and if I'm going to keep growing it here it will need its own greenhouse soon."

"You're actually working with Snape?" she asked incredulously.

Neville grinned at her. "He's really not so bad once you get to know him. At least as long as I don't get anywhere near a cauldron."

"Amazing." She moved on to the next table. "Mmmm, rosemary."

"That's for remembrance." Neville echoed her thoughts. "So Harry's in Hawaii, but how is he, really?"

She plucked a tiny purple blossom from the potted rosemary to mask her hesitation. She was disappointed to find it had very little scent, but Neville plucked another blossom.

"Like this," he instructed, rubbing it between his fingers. She followed his example and smiled at the scent that burst forth from her fingertips.

"A shame that you have to crush it to really appreciate its beauty," she murmured. Neville tentatively rested a hand on her arm.

"Is that how Harry is, then? Crushed?"

Her throat constricted painfully. "Oh, Neville, he's so different." He must have heard the strain in her voice, because as she turned toward him he put his arms around her. She buried her face in his broad chest and gave in to the tears she seemed to have been holding back for weeks, ever since she'd said goodbye to Harry on the porch of the little beach house on the north shore of Oahu. "He hardly ever talks, and he won't use magic at all, and he only smiles when he's on that bloody surfboard, and the waves are so big, and he's going to get himself killed --"

"Shhh." Neville's solid frame was wonderfully comforting.

"But I'm just so worried!" she wailed helplessly. He stroked her hair, his touch soothing her frayed nerves.

"He'll be okay, Hermione. If Voldemort couldn't kill him, I don't think a few waves will do him in."

She laughed shakily and took a deep breath, the cloudburst ending as suddenly as it had begun. "You haven't seen these waves," she muttered, but still, she felt oddly reassured. Maybe he's right, she thought. Maybe he just needs more time.

Neville held her away from him and smiled down at her warmly. "He just needs time," he said, echoing her thoughts yet again. How does he do that? He offered her a slightly grass-stained handkerchief. "So how's Ron, then? Not with Harry, I take it, or you'd have said."

She mopped her face with it, grateful for the distraction. "He's working for the Ministry," she said. "And he's seeing a very nice witch. Her name's Boadicea. They're a perfect match. She's absolutely mad for the Chudley Cannons."

"That's brilliant," he said, waving away the handkerchief when she tried to return it. "No, you have it. I've got dozens, Gran won't stop sending them. She must think I'm practically drowning in phlegm."

She laughed at that, and impulsively threw her arms around him again. "Thank you," she said, her voice muffled by his robes and tears threatening to spill over again. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too." He hugged her tightly for a moment. "But the sun's going down and you'll probably want to clean up a bit before dinner."

"Oh. Right. Thanks." She let go of him and blew her nose, feeling a little ridiculous. "I just hope I don't have to sit anywhere near Malfoy."

"I'll save you a seat," he promised her. "Now go. Your hair really is a disaster now."

"Girl's blouse." She shoved him affectionately. "You'd better save that seat or I'll let your kudzu loose."

~ * ~

Comments

[zadcat.livejournal.com]

more! more!

[cyan-blue.livejournal.com]

Again, I like it :-) A few comments this time:

> Not much luck so far, but he's, well, not exactly optimistic, you know
> Snape, but he thinks it will work if he can find the right proportion
> to substitute.

That sentence is a bit run-on.

> "Girl's blouse."

I haven't read the books... is that an expression used in them?

Also - is it in character for Hermione to worry that Harry will get hurt surfing? (Agan, haven't read the books, so...)