PLANTS / LUNGS .

St. Mungo’s || OPEN

ron hadn’t thought he would get sick of being cooped up in a hospital bed that fast, but hours after waking up he was already going stir crazy in spite of the burns covering his side. it had taken him a few moments to get himself up, but he made his way out of the hospital room as quickly as he could managed, making a sharp turn around the corner. 

st. mungo’s was like a second home to neville. a second home that they hated spending time at, a second home that was filled with childhood ghosts and crushing memories. ever since becoming an adult and moving out on their own, they’ve found they spent far too much time here. they weren’t expecting to run into anyone they knew; of course, they knew about the attacks and that their friends were here, but they usually got in and out the door unseen with ease. surprise and embarrassment washed over them when they quite literally ran into ron, spilling apologies from their lips and cursing internally. anyone else, they would have been able to lie to, written it off like they were here, indeed, visiting those hurt in the fire, but ron, ron knew. “you alright, mate?” the question comes out slowly, steady, neville giving considerable effort so their voice does not shake.

they swung the door open and realized of course they’d not been expecting someone, ginny rarely lets them know when she plans on stopping by. neville doesn’t mind, of course, but they’ve got the sneaking suspicion that ginny’s mothering them. not that they could blame her, neville mothered just about everyone they knew these days, an emotional support blanket for all the people in their life. “hey, gin. sorry the place is a mess, did you want to come in?” sometimes she did, but sometimes she insisted on getting neville out so they were never quite sure what to expect when ginny knocked on their door. @gincvrah

they place a hand on her shoulder in greeting before pulling her in for a hug. before they war, they never really had been big on physical affection, but they found now they craved it. “hey, susan, how’re you doing tonight?” it’s the first question they ask all their children, the members of the da who they’d taken under his wing, who had trusted neville with their lives. @svsansbones

THESTRAL: does talking about death upset you?

HOWLER: have you ever gotten in serious trouble with your parents? what for? (we’re gonna address this with augusta in the place of their parents bc otherwise the answer would be a simple, heartbreaking no)

they’ve always had a complicated relationship with the woman who raised them. there’s gratitude, for taking a child that wasn’t truly her responsibility, for being the first one to not give up on them. but there’s resentment too, because she always saw her own son in her grandchild and neville hated spending their whole childhood as a ghost. they got in trouble with their grandmother constantly, but perhaps no time was worse than the time they got the howler.

they’d lost the passwords list to the gryffindor common room and were already feeling bad enough about the danger they had put all of their friends in. they’d already been punished by mcgonagall, they thought when they saw the howler they might actually curl up and die in that moment. she always knew how to really make them feel bad, hitting them with phrases like “what would your mother think?” or “your father never got so much as a detention!” there was never really anger when neville messed up, only disappointment which was so much worse.

SNITCH: what’s your biggest goal in life?

FAMILIARIZED scent of liquor leaks from her pours, cloth adorning her slender shoulder as she manages to juggle multiple glasses upon tray. the pub had been bustling a mere hour ago, but the late hour had seemed to only drive patrons away. in return, hannah was left with nothing but her thoughts, a dangerous feat, a lonely place if she’d ever known one. low hum escapes her lips, purrs at the back of her throat. 

it’s because of this that she takes little notice to the loud crack, the steady footfalls of her companion. gaze trailing from counter top filled with dishes unto the figure ahead of her. “ thought i was nearly ready t’close for the night. can i get you a pint ? “ her vocals are soft, small waves crashing into the beached shore in a calm rage. 

there was something about working at the leaky cauldron that made getting a drink there seem utterly unappetizing. it was probably something they should worry about, the amount of time they spent at various pubs, but after what they’d all been through, well it was no wonder the leaky and broomsticks were usually about full to bursting. celebrations, every one called them, but there was truly little to celebrate and neville saw right though the act. every one of them was struggling more than they’d let on. 

of course, it was different after neville got off, often working so late that he’d have only just enough time to grab a pint before retiring to bed after another day. they did it, they made it through. the three broomsticks is admittedly his favorite, the soft nostalgia it brings up without being suffocated by terrible memories.

“hannah,” there’s surprise in their voice though they’re not sure at all why, of course she would be here and it’s not like this is the first time she’s served them. “oh, i’m sorry,” they feel incredibly awkward for a moment, a feeling that has always followed their apologies. of course, neville had been run late tonight it was certainly too late to be coming here. “i can go if you just wanted to close up early.”

SNITCH: what’s your biggest goal in life?

As the newest hire of Semele’s Seeing Services, Daphne often found herself in charge of the small bits of menial labour around the shop. It wasn’t exactly an intensive job, but there were things that had to be done that Semele and the other witches’ old bones just did not handle well. … At least, that was the excuse they had given Daphne. 

Unused to cleaning for herself, Daphne had balked at the new responsibilities. Now, though, the cleaning was soothing, the repetitive actions like an odd lullaby. When Semele was seeing clients, Daphne often found herself wandering around the office, looking for chores that needed to be done. Washing the sign out front was Daphne’s personal favourite: It allowed her to out-of-doors, under the sun, and something about making the company’s name shine filled her with pride. 

Humming a song under her breath, Daphne cast another Scourgify at the sign, a stream of soapy water spouting from her wand. Unused to the spell, Daphne winced as half of the stream bounced off the wood and onto the street, splashing passerbys. 

“Merlin, I am so sorry–” Daphne bounced down from her stepstool and raised her wand, preparing a Tergeo to remove the water from any sodden clothes. “Sorry, I’m not terribly used to this yet. Are you alright?”

they had thought being in the same house as fred and george weasley, no mischief would ever catch them off guard again. however they’d also thought with all of them gone from hogwarts and one of them just... gone, that they’d be seeing a lot less. their pant legs may be a little soaked, but they can’t help the smile that breaks across their face. it’s just an accident, whereas if the trouble-making twins had been responsible it most certainly would not have been and was more likely to be dungbombs than harmless water. 

for once neville doesn’t dismiss the other’s apology, insisting that it was their own fault to begin with for even walking on the path, just meets daphne’s gaze with a nostalgic smile and a bit of a chuckle. “ oh, no worries, daphne, it’s alright, really.  ”  it was strange to speak to a former slytherin with what could almost be described as fondness. neville was still trying to figure out that a house didn’t make a person, and who they became after they left said house, well that was all up to them.

“ it actually, it kind of reminded me of school, you know. back when we were all first learning our spells. ”  neville had never thought back then that they’d look back on hogwarts fondly. sure, it had turned out amazing, but the first few years had admittedly been little more emotional abuse, bullying, and bitter disappointments that neville was usually the face of.

boggart: what's your biggest fear?

dementor: do you want to kiss anyone?

hedwig: would you rather have an owl, cat, or toad?

horcrux: what object would you put part of your soul into?

howler: have you ever gotten in serious trouble with your parents? what for?

lumos: do you care about lighting?

nimbus 2000: does adrenaline excite or frighten you?

patronus: what animal are you most like?

remembrall: share a happy memory

sherbert lemon: do you put effort into passwords?

snitch: what's your biggest goal in life?

sorting hat: what house are you in?

thestral: does talking about death upset you?

hi hello i’m cal, and i’d actually die for any one of the stark children. i’m 21 years old and clearly care more about fictional characters than anyone who can legally drink should be allowed to. i’m in the mst timezone and use she/her pronouns & this is my nb bean neville shlongbottom, who is worth 12 of malfoy, catch these hands.

ALBERTO ROSENDE // have you met NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM yet? THEY are a NINETEEN year old NON BINARY PUREBLOOD. they live in LONDON, but they’re originally from TUTSHILL. they are best known for being a BARTENDER AT THE LEAKY CAULDRON, and i hear they’re pretty LOYAL yet also ANXIOUS at times; i hope they continue to heal.