19 Years (HP - Drarry)

Chapter 25: Old Enough To Know Better

Friday, October 13, 2017

Minerva sat frozen in shock, glass forgotten halfway to her lips, listening with mounting horror as Neville made his announcement. Surely - surely - he must be joking. A duel. A duel in front of the entire student body. A duel between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. She fought the near-overwhelming urge to... well. Something. She forced herself to maintain her bland expression as Neville shot her what could only be described as a significant look. As if they were co-conspirators in this. As if this duel was anything but a complete disaster in the making. She forced the bland look because, if she let herself react, she had no idea what that reaction might be. Laughing? Crying? Shouting? Fainting? They all seemed equally likely, and equally embarrassing.

Neville grinned at her as he slid into his seat across the Head table, eyes twinkling merrily. Minerva smiled weakly back at him, but she knew from the way his smile hardened that her eyes betrayed her. She suspected they were flashing with the fiery glare she'd so often sent Albus Dumbledore's way, when he'd sat where Neville sat now. She hoped they were, at any rate. She hoped they conveyed what she could not - would not - say in front of the students and other professors - the promise of dire consequences, just as soon as she got him alone.

Neville raised his glass to her and winked. Minerva seethed inside. Insufferable...pompous... the boy had grown to be far too much like Dumbledore for her liking.

Dinner dragged on interminably. The Great Hall resounded with the excited babble of hundreds of voices. All of them, she had no doubt, speculating about this mad plan, spinning theories, making wagers. Fools, the lot of them. Couldn't they see what a truly terrible idea this was?

Minerva dutifully ate her dinner, made small contributions to the animated chatter at the Head table - but every bite tasted of ash, and she had no idea what was being said to her, or what response she made. She must have managed a semblance of coherency; no one questioned her lack of enthusiasm, at any rate.

She watched Neville out of the corner of her eye, waiting for the moment he delicately patted his lips, laid down his napkin, and rose from the table. She almost missed it, even so; he chose the moment Filius Flitwick dragged her into a debate about the theories posed in the latest issue of Charms and Transfigurations Quarterly to make his escape.

Minerva stood abruptly, as soon as she realized that the flash of color at the corner of her eye was the trailing edge of Neville's emerald robes, slipping out the door. She shoved her chair back with enough force that it screeched along the flagstones and winced, patting it absently as she hurriedly made her excuses to a startled Filius and Teddy. She took a deep breath, composed her features, and then strode from the Hall.

"Neville!"

Her indignant shout resounded down the empty corridor, and Neville stopped short, turning with a resigned sigh and forced smile. "What is it, Minerva?"

She glared at him. "You know very well what it is! What, in Merlin's name, do you think you are doing, allowing this duel to proceed? You do realize that Harry just got out of the hospital wing? Poppy said he was suffering a PTSD flashback! And you're going to put him in front of the entire school, with Draco Malfoy hexing him? After all the drama those two have been through this year - every year?" She threw up her hands. "And you think this is a good idea, how?"

Neville stroked his beard, looking faintly annoyed. "Relax, Minerva. What could possibly go wrong?" He made as if to continue down the corridor.

She spluttered. "What could possibly go wrong? Longbottom! Don't you walk away from me!"