InsaneJournal

Who: Ernie and Neville
When: Sunday, 4 April (backdated)
Where: the Leaky Cauldron
What: drink(s) after a long weekend
Rating: PG?
Status: completed log

It had been an incredible week. So incredible that if Ernie hadn't actually just lived it, he'd never have found the sequence of events... well, credible. He felt worn out, mentally and consciously and even a little physically when he walked into the Leaky Cauldron to get A Drink. One drink.

Ernie wasn't so worried on this front. Drinking with Neville was an relaxing, unwinding affair rather than the prelude to insanity that he did his best to avoid, but that was mostly because Neville had a relaxing, unwinding presence about him most of the time. So long as the conversation doesn't turn in the direction it went last time.

Which made it sound in his head like he regretted it. That wasn't the case at all.

"Good evening, Neville," he greeted a little pompously as he reached the end of the long communal table where Neville was sitting.

Neville had been downstairs for a bit, having himself a dinner of fish & chips while he nursed a pint and thought through some of the things he'd learned and seen that day. That first pint was mostly gone now, just a few chips left on the plate, and he at least felt slightly more relaxed about things, even if he still wasn't entirely certain what to do.

He glanced up when Ernie arrived, smiling as he nudged out one of the chairs with his toe. "Hullo, Ernie. Hungry? Or did Susan and her dad make sure you were stuffed to full tonight?" He motioned for one of the waitstaff to come over so they could at least order their drinks. If there weren't drinking involved, Neville rather thought something sweet wouldn't be amiss, but sweet and beer never did go well together.

"Oh no - I've tucked in fairly well over there. She wasn't kidding - metric tonne of food," he replied jovially as he took a seat on the bench across from him. The smile faltered slightly.

"How're you? How did things go with your gran?"

The thought of the conversations with Gran, and with the Healers, had Neville dropping the glass back on the table with a small clink. "Ah well, about as well as expected. We spent a good while talking over options for the future." He paused long enough to properly order the pints for himself and Ernie, before he shrugged and added, "It'll be good to go back to Hogwarts, I think." At least for the moment, until the following weekend when he needed to come back for another meeting with the healers.

"I'm glad my cousin treated you well," Neville said. He hoped Susan wasn't upset that he hadn't been there, but in retrospect, he knew it had been the right decision.

He wasn't going to press him too hard on the point, if he wanted to talk about it, he was sure that Neville would. And not necessarily with him.

"How did things go with your Gran's inquisition about your future?" he asked, a slight, encouraging smile as his pint arrived. Just one. Only one.

"We agreed that I need to decide on my options." Neville shrugged. "She thinks I ought to be an Auror. She's tickled pink that I was asked to go for it, and she thinks I'd be just like my folks." Which was a disturbing thought, for all that they had been brilliant Aurors once, given where they were now. "I'm still not sure, much as I want to keep doing things, there's something about it that doesn't feel like it's what I ought to be doing. Or not just that. But if I do, I'll be in London, I'll be close to St. Mungo's, and I'll have money, all of which are good things."

"I though you wanted to be an Auror. You were trying to convince me to be one, after all," Ernie said, surprised but not accusatory as he took a large swallow of heavy, thick stout. "I also thought you'd move back to Hogsmeade, but there you are."

"I don't know; I keep on going about in circles," Neville admitted. And perhaps the first drink helped a bit of the fuzzy-mindedness towards it all. "If there are still things that need to be done, I want to get out and do them, but it's hard to imagine being an Auror all the time. When things aren't seeming like we've trouble around the corner, I start to wonder again. And if things with my parents... well, I don't rightly know if I ought to stay in Hogsmeade. I'd rather. It feels more like home there than London ever would. But well..." He shrugged, knowing he wasn't articulating all the things in his mind that well just now. Instead, perhaps he ought to turn the conversation around, "Did you think more on it? What you'll be doing when June's done?"

"No. I'm determined to focus on my exams rather than beyond them just now. It really doesn't make any sense to since I'm not sure if my results will allow me to do anything aside from being some shop-keep assistant." Ernie knew that was underselling himself, but with the inquisition this weekend at the hands of Helen Granger, he wasn't sure he was right for anything. "Auror's likely out though. Rate I'm going, I won't pass the physical for another year and... well, previous experience aside, I'm not the stellar Defense student that it seems all you Gryffindors are."

He waived it away and took another large sip, half of the glass drained now. "I think you should live in Hogsmeade. I mean, hook up to the Floo - it's less than a hop, skip and jump away."

"It's complicated," Neville said quietly, thinking again of his conversation with Healer Strout. "And don't put yourself down, I've seen what you can do." Neville didn't consider himself a particularly stellar Defense student either, being far better at Charms or Herbology than he ever was at Defense. "Even if it's not Auror, there's something more right for you than Shopkeeper. You're one of the most steady and dedicated blokes I know. Not to mention smartest."

Another long gulp, brought Neville deeper into his second pint. Not wanting to be thirsty, and rather thinking they ought to have something to munch on, he waved and pointed to their drinks, then the empty basket of chips. "I think I'll be taking my folks out of St. Mungo's when Hogwarts is done. I was thinking I ought to be closer to St. Mungo's than a Floo, if something were to happen. Just in case."

Ernie whipped around and waived his pint off, determined to stay at one. "Taking them out and putting them where?" He paused and his eyes widened. "With you?"

"You're almost done with that one," Neville pointed out practically, as it was impossible to miss Ernie's reaction. "And, well, yes, that's one of the options. I've a folder full of options I need to research and interview before the year's over, as staying in St. Mungo's means I'm barred from visiting them. And as it seems to be that I'm the reason Mum's agitated, I suppose keeping her close might be helpful." He realized after saying it that it didn't actually quite make sense in those words. "I think the agitation's a good thing. Like there're words bubbling up inside and she has no idea how to get them out."

"Anymore than one and I won't be good for anything, trust me," he said. "Certainly not for conversation."

He thought about what Neville had said and tried to put it into context. "I suppose--" he stopped. This was going to turn into the ordeal with Susan where he ran his mouth and didn't think enough about what he was saying. So Ernie paused again and thought a little more. "Them? What about your father?" he asked, figuring that was a safe route to go.

"Can't separate them," Neville said, for that was simple enough. "He's... he's not difficult, but he does need constant care. I'm looking into whether it'd be best to find a new place for them, or bring someone in to work with them in my place, and I'm leaning somewhat to the second right now. If I can find the right person," he allowed. There were so many factors that he found it confusing and he was starting to have difficulty separating it all out. "It's quite a bit of research to be done, and interviews and costs analysis. And I rather sympathise with Mum as sometimes things seem to escape my mind as well, just gone, as if they never were. Although I can see where they ought to be, and it's frustrating when I can't find them."

That seemed like an inordinate burden, but he could sympathise. What else could you do in the situation? It was rather like Constance in a way: she continued to have children dumped on her whether she willed it or no because it was the right thing to do. And Ernie knew that it was always better to do what was right than what was easy.

"Your Gran isn't willing to help?"

"Gran's old." Neville swallowed down the last swig of his pint so that he could give the glass to the girl delivering the one he'd requested, and the chips. He nudged the chips towards Ernie, in case he might want some, then held the pint between his fingers, turning it slowly in the damp spot left by condensation on the table. "She seems vital most of the time, but she tires easily and she doesn't want folks to know. I couldn't leave them with her all the time and honestly," he looked vaguely embarrassed as he admitted, "I don't want to live with my gran again. If I'm to live with someone who'll help with my folks around the clock, I'd rather have it not be the one person who's likely to argue with every little thing I do. I know she's proud of me now, but she still thinks certain things are better than others for me to be doing."

"I meant for the research and the interviews and the cost analysis - she's not sequestered in Scotland with exams just around the corner. And. And well, permit me to say it, but she'll put people through the wringer better I wager than you will. Not that you won't be an advocate for your parents, but. Well. It seems to me you should use her assistance while you still have it," Ernie explained a little uncomfortably.

"But if it's something that'll affect me, especially someone who might have to live with me, oughtn't I be involved?" There was a large part of it, and Neville sighed, the words spilling out aloud rather than tumbling over themselves in his mind they way they usually might. "I oughtn't just depend on Gran to do things for me, anymore. If I'm to be an adult, and I'm to do them going forward, I ought to be involved in the starting of them. If she badgers someone terribly during an interview, but I wouldn't be able to do the same, then they'll be looking to her for direction after, not me. Won't they?" It seemed logical to him, but perhaps he was off about it. It wouldn't surprise him terribly if he were.

"Are you going to have everyone come to Hogwarts then for interviews? I'm only saying that logistically, it makes sense. Why not have her weed out the competition and give you the best options? I don't think necessarily anyone she picks will respond only to her, particularly if you are the one paying the bills. But I do think it's a tall order for being so currently engaged. Yes we are adults, but right now we don't really have the freedom of them," he said, taking a sip and finding that he'd finished the entire glass. Ernie set it aside.

"Oh, well, yes, I do suppose narrowing it down makes sense. Then I could interview the rest in Hogsmeade one weekend," Neville agreed. "And Susan... she said her dad wants to take care of things, and Justin's offered money, too. So I suppose I can get help with the finances, although it doesn't feel right. And Susan's dad, well, I wouldn't want to be a burden. And it's not been his to deal with all these years."

"I don't think it's a problem that'll be solved by money," he said, but as soon as he said it, he regretted it. It was hardly a helpful statement and it was a viable way to be of help in such a delicate situation. "I mean, to an extent it will," he remedied with a slightly nervous chuckle.

He looked at Neville and suddenly wanted a second pint, which was a sure sign he shouldn't have one. He picked rather absently at a chip and took a nonchalant bite of it. "You're a brave man to take all of this on. I don't know..."

"No, I know what you mean... money's a part of it, and there'll be a need for it, but what's needed more is well, time, and effort, and a knowledge what's happened before, I think. Susan's dad hasn't been about, and he's got other things to be taking care of, and Justin, well, money aside, it's not his to have to handle." Neville frowned at Ernie. "It's not so brave, it's just life and going on with it. Can't run away from family. And... if she's got something to say," a small smile flickered, "I'd like to hear what that is."

He looked at Ernie. "You sure you don't want another pint? Are you staying here tonight, or going back to somewhere else?"

"Oh no. If I have a second, I'll not like myself in the morning," he replied with a grimace. He leaned forward. "What has she already said?"

"If you're sure then." Neville was going to stop at this third one, which he was barely sipping at now. The first two had gone down and left him feeling talkative, but calm, some of the anxiety from the last few days... weeks, even... slipping away. He shook his head at Ernie's question. "Nothing more than good," he sighed. "She makes gestures like there's something else, but it's not coming out. Then Dad starts pacing, and the people around them get agitated, and she kisses me on the forehead almost like she's a proper mum. It's odd, and confusing."

He pulled a chip from the basket, considering it. "I'm talking too much about my problems. They can't be all that interesting, Ernie."

"You don't talk about problems because they're interesting, you talk about them because you need to talk about them." It was a direct quote from his sister; it was also the sort of thing Ernie said but never lived up to. God knew he didn't like talking about his problems if only because they seemed so... impossible to talk about. He could empathise with Neville's mum - it was so hard to find words about things.

"She ever learn sign language?" he said offhandedly, remarking after the gestures as he bit down again on the chip he had.

But if Neville kept talking about his problems, Ernie never talked anything out, and Neville wondered if Ernie had things that needed talking out. Still, he answered the question with a shake of his head. "I think they tried, back in the early days, but she just ignored them. They didn't think she had any language left until recently, so it's an option to try again. I'll mention to Gran to ask what they'd think they'd do with her, to help her communicate." He paused then, blinking, wondering aloud, "I wonder if she's understood what we've been saying all along, but she just took this long to process it."

"Oh, I don't think so," Ernie said after a moment, unconvincingly to boot. He wasn't sure at all, but it seemed to be the thing to say to keep him calm. "I'm sure it's a new development. Maybe... maybe now that Bellatrix Lestrange is dead... some sort of hold was released. Some sort of... captivation," he gestured a little wildly. There was a warmth in his chest that seemed to be trying to blossom into a large-petaled flower.

"I wonder if that's what she was trying to say... good that Bellatrix is dead." Neville had hoped that she'd somehow understood that he'd done well with the war, that she'd been saying something to him, but that thought made more sense. "I read her the article. They'd said I likely shouldn't tell her all that had happened, but I read her the article, and told her about Gin's Mum and Bellatrix, and about Harry, and about the snake and all. I thought it was right that she know not just that it was finally over, but how it had happened in the end. It was their war too, after all. I hadn't... I hadn't even thought that Bellatrix might still have some hold over them that's gone now."

"You can't really listen to me though," Ernie said hurriedly, not wanting to get Neville's hopes up artificially. "I mean. Well. It's just a thought - that doesn't make it a good one."

He rubbed his wrist absently, still bandaged from Mr. Bones' ministrations, and shrugged. "I guess no one really knows how those things work. But maybe the reason isn't so important. Right?"

"I suppose you're right, it's the end result that's needed not so much as the way of getting there." And that was a thought that gave Neville pause, and he hastily added, "as long as the way of getting there isn't doing something wrong. The ends don't justify those sorts of means." He looked at Ernie's bandage, which wasn't in the usual spot and merited asking with some concern, "You alright there? New injury?"

"Susan's dad. Running some tests," he said, frowning and shaking his head. "I don't know what he'll find that's so much different than what my healers have, but... what could I say to Susan? It's a lost cause - the only remedy is time?" Ernie added with a sigh as he rested his chin against the table. It was an awkward position, so he didn't remain there for long, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. "She was just trying to be helpful. I can oblige that."

"Susan's sweet like that," Neville allowed, knowing his cousin well, even if occasionally he wasn't quite ready for the help offered. "I don't know if she quite realizes the world can't always be fixed so easily." Which only brought him back in thought to his parents, and his thoughts on that. "Sometimes time is the cure, or at least the path that leads to it."

"What with her heart...?" Ernie reminded him and then visibly paused. "Or. Maybe we don't trust adults enough to solve our problems?" he added with a fond and knowing small grin. "I'm awful about that. I really am," he repeated and shook his head to chastise himself.

"I am too," Neville admitted. "We couldn't rely on them for so long, but now... now's when we're supposed to be taking on those adult things ourselves. Makes it all the harder to let go. Perhaps you really ought to go out and just be childish for a while." He nudged at Ernie's hand lightly, teasing. "Something we all ought to learn. A new subject they ought to teach at school."

"And by childish, you mean what?" Ernie couldn't really... he couldn't really pin down a time where he felt childish. He'd acted like it, he was sure of it, but even before the war he was always a ball of nerves, constantly focused on doing well and being a dutiful and obedient son and brother, even when the two often conflicted. His one drunken affair had ended so badly that he was frightened of getting close to that measure of casual drunkenness and it seemed to be The Thing his age group did. He was the responsible one, the leader of Hufflepuff. He didn't know really if he could even pretend to be anything other than that.

"I couldn't tell you," Neville admitted. "It's why I suggested it being a course. But it seems to be something we've all skipped over, although I suppose we're getting our chances to be something like it now. Dating. That winter festival that Hermione put together. Those seem like the sorts of things that are expected of us. Except we've never learned how to do anything but be responsible."

Ernie looked up at Neville. It was true. It was all true and he wondered if it was true for Neville as it was for him - not just at school, but before school. His grandmother was the sort of pressurized will that his mother and his sister were and they'd both had expectations to live to. He didn't even know what Neville did for fun.

"Dating doesn't seem like a childish thing," he said solemnly. His relationship with Hermione, while wonderful, wasn't easy and he knew there was a fundamental incompatibility there in the way they operated. It wasn't insurmountable, but it was there and it wasn't going anywhere. She would always want him to be more open and sharing than he was and he'd always want her to just know when he was having A Time Of It and leave him alone to let his fuse burn out.

"What do you like to do for fun?" Ernie asked distractedly.

"Perhaps dating isn't childish, but it still seems to be something we're expected to understand, and that others our age ought to've been doing, except most of our lot haven't. Until now," Neville had to admit that most of the others seemed to be doing quite fine in all that. Perhaps it was just himself and that was something he could figure out later on. When it seemed more important.

Ernie's question didn't exactly stump Neville, but he wasn't sure what to say that wouldn't come out sounding rather like he had no life outside of coursework. "The greenhouse," he said slowly. "It's where I go when I haven't anything else that needs doing. I like the feel of having my hands in the dirt, and it doesn't seem like work to me. When I was very little, I remember rolling down hills, but that's not something I'm likely to do now. I didn't grow up around a lot of other children, and it was just me and Gran at home. I do like to play card games with people; I'm quite good at them. Dancing terrifies me." It all seemed like a rather random ramble to him, but perhaps Ernie could make sense out of it.

"You?" he added on at the end, curious what the other boy might say.

Ernie shrugged. "I don't know. I guess. I like music - I don't know that I do anything with it, or could do anything with it ever, but I like it and I suppose on the whole it's fun rather than stressful or disappointing or what have you like most of my purported 'hobbies'."

"Well, you can listen to music, or dance, I suppose, if you like it." Neville had already stated plainly what he thought of that, although he didn't music in itself. "Why don't you consider the things you enjoy hobbies? If you're doing them for fun, and they aren't being graded, then they ought to be good enough, right?"

Ernie's head swayed back and forth as if it were physically examining both sides of the argument. Neither of them seemed particularly strong. "I don't know." He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, it's... complicated, I suppose. Or I'm complicated. Things you do should have purpose and hobbies... well, they aren't frivolous but they get pushed aside if I've got purposeful things to do. And we're at school so... that consumes a lot of my time."

It was the sort of thing he didn't really want to admit about himself, but he said it anyway because his mouth ran on unchecked sometimes. "I mean yes, there is value in doing things for fun. But. I end up just feeling like I should be doing something more important with my time the whole time I'm doing something purposefully important."

It was something that made sense to Neville. "This year seems odd like that, doesn't it? Where the only thing important we're doing is revisions. After having had so much happening around us, it seems strange to have free time. But..." His voice trailed off as he tried to find the words for the thought that had slipped into his mind. "If you're always doing something purposeful, when do you do things that are just for yourself?"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he replied, eyebrows knitting. Ernie wasn't sure if he should be cross at the implication, but he felt a little cross at it anyway. Ernie looked down at the watch on his wrist and pushed himself to standing. "I'd better get back- busy day tomorrow," Ernie said with a frown.

Neville blinked, not having realized quite how much time had passed, and wondering if he'd said something to offend as he'd ended things so abruptly. He pushed to his feet as well. "You're right, I suppose I ought to sleep as well. I'll see you on the train then tomorrow."

Ernie nodded and stretched out his hand to take Neville's. "Indeed. The long haul begins."