The Redemption of Severus Snape

Part 7

Lindsay decided to spend some time in the common room before retiring. Although Professor Flitwick was very excited about the way she managed to float the feather, Lindsay was still frustrated by her inability to control her wand. She thought being around the chatty jovial Gryffindors would improve her mood. As she reached the top of the great marble staircase, she saw Neville pacing nervously in front of Sir Cadogan's portrait. His clothes and shoes were covered in earth. He'd clearly been working in the greenhouses. "What's up, Neville? It's almost curfew. You'll really get it if McGonagall catches you out here."

"I forgot the password."

"It's unicorn hair."

"Thanks, you're a life-saver."

Neville went up to his dormitory, while Lindsay sat in a chair next to the fire and watched the flames dance. She wasn't really interested in socializing, but she found the sounds of people talking and laughing around her relaxing. As the flickering flames lulled her, she began humming softly to herself.

"What's that you're singing?" asked Neville, who'd changed out of his dirt-covered clothes, and took a seat next to her.

"It's a lullaby. My mom sang it to me when I was little. Lullabies make me think of her." Neville appeared as though he wanted to say something, but turned his head away instead and stared at the fireplace. Lindsay could see that something had made him uncomfortable and thought it best to change the subject. She proceeded to tell him what had happened in her Charms lesson. "I didn't think to ask Flitwick if he could tell what the core was. Is there a way to tell?" Lindsay held up her wand, but Neville declined to take it.

"Hasn't anyone explained wand etiquette to you?"

"There's a protocol?" asked Lindsay.

"It's considered impolite to handle someone else's wand. It's acceptable in an emergency or among family members, but never done in polite company."

"Oh, I had no idea. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be rude."

"No need to apologize. Most people form a strong bond with their wands and don't like to use someone else's. You should ask Dumbledore what yours is made from."

"Neville, there's something I wanted to ask you. There's a jar of powder on top of my fireplace mantel..."

"It's Floo powder."

"Does it give people the Flu?"

"No," laughed Neville. "It's used for travel or to talk to other people on the Floo network...You still don't know what I'm talking about?"

"Just tell me if it's something Fred and George put there."

"It should look silvery. If it looks different, then Fred and George swapped it for one of their pranks. I'll go and have a look at it, if you like?"

"Would you? I'd feel much better if you did. It's making me paranoid; I keep waiting for it to explode or something." On the way to Lindsay's rooms, they bumped into a very angry and very purple Ron Weasley. "What did you do to yourself, Ron? You look like a rhinestone grape."

"ME?" he shouted. "WHAT DID I DO?" Neville cringed and moved as far out of Ron's sight as he could.

"You didn't eat that shiny scone, did you?" said Lindsay.

"Well, I was hungry so I popped in for a bite. You weren't there, but I didn't think you'd mind. I saw that scone sitting on the table and...."

"It was a gift from Fred and George. I meant to throw it away, but I got sidetracked. Sorry, Ron, I should've told you about it."

"THOSE GITS!" shouted Ron, a new wave of rage flowing over him. His cheeks and ears were a much darker shade of purple than the rest of him. He stomped away toward the common room, fists balled at his sides. Seconds later, a roar of laughter was heard followed by angry shouting from Ron.

Lindsay went to the kitchenette while Neville inspected the Floo powder. "It looks fine to me," he said.

"You have no idea what a relief that is, especially after seeing Ron. Would you like to stay for a bit? We can have a nice chat." She looked through every cabinet and turned to Neville. "It looks like Ron cleaned me out. I'll just nip down to the kitchens, if you don't mind waiting. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Oh, I don't want you to get in trouble on my account," said Neville.

"I won't get in trouble. I don't have a curfew, the teachers can't give me detention, and I can only be expelled by the Headmaster. Make yourself at home, I won't be long."

Neville saw a sketchbook lying open on Lindsay's desk and began to flip through it. He saw sketches of Fred and George on broomsticks, Lupin leaning back in a chair reading a book, Hagrid patting a Thestral, Buckbeak on Hagrid's bed, Fang sprawled in front of a fire, Hermione sitting on a bench in the sun with an open book on her lap, Sprout smiling with a smudge of earth on her nose, and himself standing in a water garden, pulling weeds. Neville put the drawings down when he reached a page with some incomplete sketches of Snape.

When Lindsay returned, her arms were laden with snacks of every kind. "The house-elves are so gracious," she said.

"I was looking at your sketches. They're really good."

"Thank you, glad you like them. I'm having some trouble capturing Professor Snape, though. I haven't found his moment yet." Neville looked blankly at her from across the table. "Everyone has a special moment when their true selves shine out. It's when they're happiest and most comfortable, like Hagrid with his animals and you with your plants." Neville had no desire to discuss Professor Snape so close to bedtime and so changed the subject to art in general, a topic that Lindsay had a great passion for. They had tea and a few sandwiches and chatted away into the night.