Neville rode the Hogwarts Express home one last time, staring out the window and trying to figure out his future in a world that barely made sense to him anymore. Harry and the Order -- including all the new members who had once formed the DA -- had defeated Voldemort in time for the students to take their NEWTs; they'd emerged from the battle heroes with no idea of what to do with themselves, now that they'd stopped fighting and had to start living. Nev knew his grandmother would give him a few months' leeway to gather his wits, but that time seemed terribly short to him, days that he expected to pass the way the lights did outside, each a long stretch that was over in the blink of an eye.

Perhaps the hardest thing for Neville was that, for the first time in seven years, he wouldn't have school to look forward to, the train ride back and the transition from his lonely summer days to the crowded nights spent in a room full of friends. Even when Neville wasn't the favourite person in the Gryffindor Common Room, he had always known he had friends he could go and sit with and feel like he was a part of something. Neville felt that security slip away from him for the last time as he exited the station with his grandmother to head for home, and tried not to feel like he was leaving the most important things behind him instead.

The summer was an especially strange one for Neville because he got dozens of owls; invitations from those who listened when Harry listed all those who helped him in his victory, letters from friends who'd never bothered to write to him in the six previous summers, offers for apprenticeships that didn't suit a single skill he possessed from people who wanted their businesses to have that extra shine of a genuine war hero on staff. Neville made a hobby of guessing by the outside of the envelope which thing would be in each missive, and he soon learned to recognize and welcome Harry's messy scrawl and Hermione's neat lettering, Ron's perpetually worn quills and Dean's artistic little doodles.

One day in the middle of August, NEWT results a few days past and no surprises there, Neville got an owl he couldn't quite place. The handwriting seemed familiar, but it wasn't any of his schoolmates or the few persistent businessmen who hadn't yet managed to hire any of the other Order members. The parchment was obviously reused, old words carefully sanded away and the ink blurred but strong where it spelled out his name and address. There was no seal, only a blob of wax where a Knut had been pressed to make sure it stuck, the twining vine knot on the back of the coin making a sinuous pattern in the red blotch. It was, in short, the most interesting thing Neville had received all summer.

Nev carefully cracked the wax and unfolded the note, only to find a few dried leaves and flowers inside, pressed flat and wrapped in tissue. Neville set those aside, more curious than ever to find out what was going on, and began to read.

Dear Mr. Longbottom, As I'm sure many others have done, I have an offer of employment of sorts, though mine is more a partnership than an apprenticeship. I have found a potions supplier who will brew Wolfsbane for myself and the other remaining werewolves, if we provide to him not only gold to compensate for his labour, but a supply of rare herbs, specifically the Lunar Lilacs, Grackleberries and High-Altitude Hellebore used in the potion. I remember well your facility with Herbology, and I propose that you join with me in this venture. We would be gathering or growing those specific plants, but there would be plenty of time to acquire other rare and valuable ingredients as well, which could hopefully be the start of a profitable business. I realize this is all very forward, but I am hoping you remember me fondly, both from our time as student and teacher, and our work side by side as members of the Order. Yours truly, Remus Lupin

Neville found himself smiling as he unwrapped the tissue and carefully removed one sprig of Lilac, pressed as though by some Victorian maiden keeping tokens in her diary, with a hint of moonlight still shining ever so gently in the hollow of each tiny flower. In the other tissue were Hellebore leaves, frost still riming their edges as their magic gleaned moisture from air much thicker than what they'd grown in when they were part of a living plant. There were no sample Grackleberries, but Neville knew what they were and was even hopeful that he might wheedle some seeds or cuttings from Professor Sprout. The Lilacs could be grown eventually, once he'd found trees to harvest from, but they'd need a very specialized greenhouse; the Hellebore would have to be collected annually in season.

It all seemed to Neville to be just the sort of adventure he needed, a future he could sink his teeth into. It wouldn't be a safe or easy life, and there was a very good chance he'd end up right back where he was now, living on his grandmother's charity, but it was a far cry from waiting around for another two months for some miraculously better offer. This job wouldn't solve everything in his life, or even most things, but it would be his; Lupin had made him the offer based on what skills he actually had instead of his dubious fame.

Neville had been in a holding pattern for so long that the giddy excitement of having something real to do swept away his doubts, and before he could change his mind, he got out quill and ink and the good sort of parchment one ought to use when sending to a prospective employer and wrote his acceptance note, grin widening with every word he penned.

---

Neville was nervous, but that had been his normal state for so many years at Hogwarts that it was almost a welcome change from the summer's boredom. He'd bought all the gear requested in Lupin's pleased reply, and even received his grandmother's blessing -- she approved of the entrepreneurial spirit, and potions ingredients were a respectable business for a young man of his talents and breeding. He went over the list in his head one more time, hoping he hadn't forgotten anything, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang. Neville wiped his hands on his trousers and answered it, grinning widely at his much-anticipated visitor. "Pro- Mr. Lupin! It's so good to see you," he said, opening the door wide to let Lupin inside.

"Remus, please," he said, brushing past Neville, his clothes warm from the summer sun and perhaps his own body heat. Remus turned and shook Neville's hand once the door was closed behind him. His hand was strong but fragile-seeming, like touching an owl's wing, all thin bones and dry feathers, and Neville hoped his own palm wasn't too clammy. "You're looking fit, Neville," he said.

Neville smiled shyly as their hands dropped; he'd never be thin, but puberty had solidified his baby fat into something like muscle, aided by a very active final year in and out of Hogwarts. "Thank you, R-remus, you as well."

Remus followed him into the parlour and sat in the sun where Neville could see him clearly, his clothing nearly new for once and cheeks less hollow and more rosy than the last time Neville had seen him. "I've been doing all right, since Harry gave us all a bit of a shine."

Neville nodded understandingly, sitting on the loveseat across from him. That shine had been a mixed blessing for Neville until now, but he was grateful for it all the same. They all were, really, since that fleeting fame was all the reward the wizarding world had to offer them in return for their hard work and heavy losses. "Gran insists you stay for tea. She'll be down any moment now, b-but I want to tell you before she does that she's given me some money to start us out," said Neville, cursing his stutter and picking at the dirt permanently embedded under his fingernails.

Remus' eyebrow went up at that, and he asked, "Define 'some'?"

Neville coughed politely and named the figure, slightly diminished by the quality of gear he'd bought for collection and storage of valuable and delicate ingredients. "She called it an advance on my inheritance, so we can start ourselves out right. Do... d'you think it'll be enough to pay for the greenhouses?"

Remus whistled. "It'll pay for a lot of things, I expect, if we stretch it where we can." He paused, obviously calculating something out in his head before saying, "I still want to begin with a trip to the mountains, but perhaps with this we'll be able to start building as soon as we get back, instead of having to do several trips to save up." Remus gave him a rakish wink and added, "Don't worry, I'll keep you busy."

Neville blushed, but grinned anyway. He'd managed to forget how charming Remus could be, when he wasn't being a professor and therefore untouchable. Not that Neville thought he had a chance of touching Remus now, but it was different when you were both supposedly adults. "I expect so," murmured Neville, wondering how it would work out, him all inexperienced but putting up the lion's share of their seed money. Remus was trustworthy, Neville knew that, but still he might have said more if his grandmother hadn't arrived at that moment. The tea was served in proper style, and the conversation became more formal as well.

After the pleasantries were taken care of, Gran fixed her best quelling stare on Remus and asked pointedly, "What sort of accommodations have you arranged for my grandson?"

Neville blushed; she'd been sceptical when he told her he wanted to move out and live with Remus, rather than continue to rely on her largesse for his room and board.

"I found a flat in Periffer Alley for us," said Remus calmly, eyes twinkling as though he'd expected this line of questioning. "Two bedrooms and quite proper, with a rent in a range we can easily support."

Gran snorted and took a sip of her tea. "Not one of those little by-the-week flophouses, I trust?" she said, her tone suggesting she trusted nothing of the sort.

"No, no, not that end. The flat is only a few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron, quite a respectable address for a young man just starting out, even living with the likes of me," Remus replied, his voice just a touch less friendly at the end.

Gran didn't push the issue any further, though she did add, "I expect an invitation to tea once you've returned from haring off into the wilds, so that I may see for myself."

"Yes, Grandmother, of course," said Neville, making a mental note to be sure the place was mostly clean before they left for Norway.

She snorted again and moved on to other subjects, offering to help them find a man at law for their paperwork, showing herself to be as committed to Neville's success as was proper for the woman who had raised him. Eventually the last cakes were eaten and Gran seemed mollified and even pleased with Neville, an eventuality so rare Nev thought he ought to mark it on a calendar somewhere, and they said their goodbyes. Neville shouldered his magical travel pack, pocketed his shrunken trunk, and brushed a dutiful kiss on her cheek, then went outside and allowed Remus to Apparate them away.

They arrived at Periffer Alley, one of the many side streets off of Diagon Alley in London, this one made up chiefly of boarding houses and hostels. They went into one of the narrow buildings and up two flights of stairs, stopping in front of Number 32. Remus handed Neville a worn brass key, and Neville opened up with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He found the inside scrupulously clean and bigger than he'd expected, and he stepped inside quickly so Remus could follow. There was a small but serviceable open kitchen off to the left of the tiny entryway, and an equally open living room to the right, with a worn sofa in front of a wonderfully large fireplace. "Are we on the Floo?" asked Neville, smiling as he set his pack down.

"We are, though it's a bit dodgy at the moment. Needs a good cleaning to set it to rights. Leave your shoes, too, the carpet shows dirt something awful," said Remus, slipping off his own boots with a smile. "I'll show you our other luxury."

Neville clumsily shed his shoes, the new laces recalcitrant as he coaxed the knots out of them, and he was red-faced and squirming by the time he made his way over to Remus' side in the little hallway leading deeper into the flat.

"Through here," said Remus, passing the two closed doors on either side and leading him to the one at the end, ajar with sunlight streaming through it invitingly.

Neville followed silently, not asking partly because he didn't want to spoil Remus' obvious enjoyment of the moment, but mostly because he didn't really know how much chatter Remus would put up with from his new roommate. It proved to be worth the wait when Neville stepped up to the threshold to see the most perfect loo he'd ever been in. The walls and ceiling of the room were made of dozens of panes of frosted glass, and the whole room was festooned with plants, turning it into a tiny, private conservatory. "It's brilliant!" he said with a grin, then asked warily, "How much is this costing you... I mean, us?"

Remus shook his head, but named a surprisingly reasonable monthly rent. He sat on the edge of the raised tub, toying with the chain for the plug; the bath was easily big enough for even a tall man to have a proper soak, running the whole length of the right hand wall. On the left there was a screened-off toilet, and a slightly grotty little sink, and the back wall had been fitted with metal shelves between the windowpanes, all of which were festooned with plants. "You'll see why it was cheap next," he said with a wry little smile, "but I thought this was worth it, especially since we'll be travelling so much."

"It's really nice, Remus," said Neville, properly impressed, gently petting the fronds of a Finger Fern which petted him right back. "Did you choose the plants, too?"

Remus nodded. "Mostly. They're things I collected in my travels, bits and pieces that don't make good potions ingredients, or that Snape didn't need," he said, then looked as if he might want to take back the last bit.

"It's all right, I figured there must have been a reason you weren't telling me who our mysterious potion maker was," said Neville with a self-deprecating smile. He'd be lying to say that he wasn't bothered by the idea of doing business with Snape, but he wanted to put up a brave face for Remus, so he just shrugged. "At least he can't take points, right?"

Remus laughed and stood, brushing off imaginary dust and motioning for Neville to precede him into the hall. "I've taken the left, but they're really the same," said Remus apologetically, so Neville opened the door on the right.

Neville could now see why the flat was cheap.

The bedroom was as dark as the bathroom was light; there were no windows, since there was a flat on either side of them. The bed itself barely fit in the tiny space, and it was smaller than the beds at Hogwarts, narrow and short enough that Nev wasn't even sure he'd fit on the sagging thing. The sag seemed to be a combination of a lack of proper support, and a floor that dipped alarmingly in the centre, as though the enlarging spell that gave the flat a bigger interior than exterior hadn't quite worked in the middle space, leaving the ceiling a bit smaller than the floor and the whole room feeling oddly squashed. There was a wardrobe wedged in next to the foot of the bed, a spindly nightstand by the head, and just enough space between to dress in the mornings, so long as Neville didn't put anything on the nightstand that would break when he inevitably knocked it off.

"Well," said Neville, turning back to a nervous-looking Remus, some of the vitality he'd displayed earlier leeched away by uncertainty, leaving him looking old and slightly transparent, like well-used parchment held up to a candle so you could see the thin spots. Neville bit his lip, then gave in and tried to defuse the situation with humour. "I suppose we'll just have to travel a whole lot until we're rich and can afford better, right?"

They both laughed, and Remus nodded. "That's what I thought, and between the bath and the fireplace, I hoped you'd understand why I took the place."

"It's fine, Remus, perfect for two gentlemen entrepreneurs just starting out," said Neville, echoing his grandmother's earlier, rather optimistic description of them. "Will we stay here tonight and leave in the morning?" he asked, hoping he'd get a chance to have at least one bath in that lovely room before they left it behind for parts unknown.

Remus nodded. "Yes, that was my plan. I thought we'd go up into the mountains first, since that's where things are ready to be gathered this time of year," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in a rather adorably abashed manner, "Actually, um. We have a dinner invite tonight, anyway."

"Brilliant, from who?" Neville asked, grateful for the change of subjects. The mountains sounded very daunting for a first trek, though Neville had known from his reading that the Grackleberries only grew in a very specific sort of environment, and the Hellebore as well. He'd visited a few of his friends over the summer, Harry and Ron mostly, but he hadn't seen anyone since his birthday and he missed having friends around.

"There's a whole group from the Order meeting up at the Leaky Cauldron tonight," said Remus, his smile gone stiff and uncomfortable.

Neville nodded and smiled back, hoping Remus wasn't upset about having to be seen with him. "I'd love to go, but if you're too tired..." he said, offering Remus an easy out. He could see his friends when they got back just as well, after all.

"No, no, it's not that," said Remus with a little cough and flush. "Erm... Apparently Tonks is going to be there as well, with that singer she's seeing now."

"Oh!" said Neville with a little squirm. "Look, we don't have to, I mean... I don't really know what happened with the two of you, but I wouldn't..."

Remus held up his hand, cutting Neville off. "I shouldn't have let her talk me into trying it in the first place, is what happened," he said, mouth twisting up in a wry, weary little smile. "Neville, you've not seen your friends in weeks, from what they tell me. I can put up with a bit of social awkwardness for the sake of my new business partner."

Nev smiled shyly and nodded, unused to the idea of anyone putting up with anything for his sake. "You want the loo first, then?" he asked, though really they were both perfectly ready to go out.

Remus shook his head. "I'm going to hide in my cave and read a bit, just knock when you're done," he said, opening the door to reveal a room every bit as tiny and gloomy as Neville's. He started to swing the door shut, then stuck his head out and added, "Oh, and you get to care for the plants in there now, by the way. I'll cook."

Neville laughed and agreed readily -- his lack of cooking prowess had been rather legendary in the Order, mostly from the one disastrous time he'd tried to put together tea for a group of them meeting up at the old headquarters. He shook his head and went back to his own little room, lighting the high lamps with a Lumos that still seemed terribly dim in the cramped space. He set his trunk on the bed and then enlarged it, putting his clothing in the little wardrobe, setting out his few possessions on the shelf above the bed and stocking the bathroom with toothbrush and other necessities. He had a separate set of everything in his travel pack, all new and specially made for camping, so once his trunk was empty all he had to do was shrink it back down and slip it under the sagging bed.

He whiled away the rest of the afternoon in the loo -- with the door invitingly open -- making friends with the plants there and adding his few treasured specimens in with them, rearranging a few according to their needs and making sure everyone was properly watered. The Finger Fern ruffled his hair whenever he passed by it, and Neville was pleasantly surprised to find a few of what he thought of as "helper plants" hiding in Remus' eclectic collection -- these were plants that took different things from the soil than a lot of the varieties he'd want to grow, and put back in the sorts of minerals and magical essences that their greenhouse would need. By the time the light began to fade, Neville had dirty hands, a good mental catalogue of the room, timed watering spells all set up for while they were away, and a better appreciation of Remus' qualifications for this venture of theirs, if not his own.

"You've got dirt on your cheek," said a warm voice, and Neville started, then blushed as Remus' fingers brushed at the spot.

"Sorry, I got a little distracted with the plants. I've set them up to be all right for a week or so while we're travelling, so no plant sitter needed," Neville said, then stopped, thinking of the Finger Fern's gentle touches, unconsciously comparing them to Remus'. "Well, they might like if it someone stopped in to visit. That fern is very friendly." Nev went and busied himself at the sink, cleaning hands and face and spelling away the bit of dirt on his good robes. "Do I look presentable?"

"You look quite nice," said Remus with another of those winks, and Neville thought he might never stop blushing at this rate.

"Thanks. I'll leave you to it, then," Neville mumbled, head down as he bustled out and went to wait in the living room. He pondered his own little bedroom and wondered if some cave plants might do well in there, losing himself in images of phosphorescent moss draping itself over the wardrobe or dotting the ceiling in strange constellations; he was distracted enough by his daydreams that it seemed like mere moments before gentle fingers were brushing the hair off his brow, much as the fern had.

"I'm all set," Remus said, and Neville stretched, surreptitiously eyeing the way Remus' robes fit now that he was no longer quite so terribly thin as he'd been during the war, ending up meeting amber eyes half-hidden beneath greying fringe.

"Are you sure you're up for it?" said Neville, trying to chase down that furtive look in Remus' eyes and pin it with a name, or at least an admission of some sort.

"I'm fine, Neville, and we both deserve a bit of a night out before we leave civilization entirely, don't you think?" Remus replied, his smile brightening just enough to be convincing.

Remus' hand was warm when he helped Neville up, and Neville swallowed hard, recognizing the signs in himself from his school years. He could only hope that Remus would prove as oblivious to his developing crush as Harry had, and Ron and Seamus as well. Neville shook his head as he tied his shoes, smiling wryly at his own foolishness; why did he always pick the straight ones?

Well, all right, not Harry, but he'd been just as unavailable, and even Harry had thought he was straight at the time Neville had been infatuated with him, so it amounted to the same thing.

Periffer Alley was right near what Neville thought of as the mouth of Diagon Alley, the spot where it sprouted from the back wall of the Leaky Cauldron and went winding its way off in all its magical glory. Just a few blocks' walk and an odd little turning, and they were stepping through the archway back into London's favourite wizarding pub. It was busy inside, nothing at all like it had been during the war, and it made Neville smile to see such a tangible result of the often futile-seeming effort he'd spent the latter part of his school years on instead of studying for OWLs or NEWTs as he should have done.

"I think they took one of the back rooms," said Remus, taking Neville's hand and leading him through the press of brightly-robed bodies, back to the largest of the private eating rooms offered by the pub.

Neville was too distracted by Remus' hand to pay much attention to anything else, the bones fine and delicate under his own broad, sturdy fingers. Remus was so warm, he reminded Neville of sunshine, or perhaps his uncle's pet hunting dogs that used to climb into bed with Neville as a boy and curl around him, all fur and heat and mystery. They'd leave before morning and go out hunting, but for those few hours in the night, they'd been Neville's companions alone. Just like Remus would be up in the mountains, though he rather suspected they'd have separate sleeping accommodations.

His train of thought was rapidly derailed when Remus stopped abruptly and Neville ran into him, banishing images of those dogs with the reality of the man. Remus was thinner than he looked, the robes tailored to hide what the old, threadbare ones hadn't been able to, and his body radiated warmth as though fevered, sending a tendril of worry through Neville's appreciative thoughts. "Er, sorry," Neville mumbled, stepping to one side so he could see into the room.

It was full of Order members and their dates, Ron and Hermione acting like a couple, Harry and his bloke trying very hard not to appear like a couple, Dean looking like he might be with Ginny again, and of course all the single people as well, Kingsley and Professor McGonagall and even old Mad-Eye Moody. Tonks was there, laughing and hanging on some handsome bloke that, to Neville's eyes, looked a little like Sirius Black had, after he'd cleaned himself up a bit. "Stubby Boardman," said Remus shortly, shrugging and stepping into the room with Neville trailing along behind.

"Huh," said Neville, cocking his head. "Guess Luna's dad had a point after all," he mumbled, thinking of the articles he'd seen in the Quibbler over the years claiming this poor bloke was really Sirius in disguise.

"It's the laugh," said Remus tightly, and for one wild moment Neville wondered if perhaps it wasn't Tonks at all that was making Remus jealous, but her new beau. Which was absurd, really, Remus and Sirius had been best friends but there was no sign that Remus swung that way. It was probably grief, just like they all held for the people they'd lost, for everyone from Cedric to the Headmaster.

Neville put a hand on the middle of Remus' lower back and steered him gently over toward Harry, murmuring, "Still, he's no Sirius, is he?" After all, Neville had a lot of practice being a comforting friend, a sympathetic ear or shoulder to cry on. It was the one thing he'd still been good for near the end, when his bumbling in other things made everyone forget that he could cast as good a Patronus as any of them, that he was the one who'd grown the Venomous Tentacula for the potion that had taken out Nagini.

The gentle touch and kind words seemed to relax Remus, anyway, and soon enough they were face to face with Harry and being introduced to his latest Quidditch player while the party swirled on around them. They weren't the last to arrive by any means, and the food was set up buffet-style on a sideboard so that people could trickle in and out and still get fed. Remus and Harry got into a conversation with Kingsley about inner-Ministry politics that Neville didn't understand, so Neville took it upon himself to get Remus something to eat, feeling pleasantly useful at the grateful look Remus shot him when he handed off the laden plate. "And when did you two start seeing each other?" asked Kingsley, turning to Neville with a smile.

Neville blushed. "Oh! We're not, I mean... Poor Remus, everyone must be thinking... we've gone into business together, actually."

Remus chuckled. "It's all right, Neville, I don't care what everyone thinks," he said, though to Neville's ear he sounded almost wistful as he said it.

The evening grew a bit more surreal when Neville found himself cornered by Tonks on the way to the loo, a very serious expression on her normally cheerful face. "Look," she said, poking him in the chest, "I'm glad he's finally decided to stop pretending about what he wants, but if I find out you're just playing with him, don't think I won't come kick your arse just because we were in the Order together."

"Um, what?" Neville replied, feeling stunned and strange.

Tonks sighed. "I guess it's none of my business really, since I wasn't much better when it came right down to it, but you'd best make sure you care for him properly and aren't just messing about, all right?"

"Er, all right," said Neville, taking the pause as an opportunity to escape into the Gent's. She was gone when he came out, hands clean and mind muddled, whirling with all sorts of thoughts about the things she'd inadvertently told him.

Remus corralled him shortly after and they had a quiet walk home, both men lost in their own troubled thoughts. Neville was feeling quite guilty by the time they got to their flat; not only had he accidentally outed Remus, but he was also spoiling Remus' prospects for a real date just by existing, since now everyone in their acquaintance thought Remus was taken by Nev. Well, not Kingsley and Harry, and between the two of them, Neville thought, eventually everyone would get set straight. Except himself, of course, since he was obviously quite bent to even be thinking of how nice it had felt, having everyone look at him for one evening and think that he'd been worthy of someone's attention after all.

---

The morning started precipitously with a loud thud and a lot of swearing coming from the hallway. Neville emerged from his room, all tousled hair and rumpled nightshirt, into chaos. Objects littered the hallway like a small cyclone had been through, leading into the living room where a great deal more were stacked in haphazard, teetering piles. Remus was sitting on the floor and looking peeved, bedraggled, dusty and sweaty, and no little embarrassed. "Didn't mean to wake you," he said, taking the hand Neville proffered and getting to his feet. "I've been trying to pack all the equipment and stuff, but it's... not working out so well."

Neville smiled and brushed a bit of lint off the tip of Remus' nose, too sleepy to be worried about the casual touch. "Let me use the loo and put on some trousers, and I'll give you a hand?" he said, not that he had an idea of how to pack for that sort of travel. Still, what was a junior partner for if not to do some of the dirty work?

"How about you do that, and I'll wash up in the sink and make us some breakfast before we tackle this crap again?"

"Even better," said Nev. He ducked back into his room for some clothes, then made quick work of his morning routine and carefully picked his way through the mess, heading for the lovely smells wafting from the kitchen.

"I'm assuming you can set table without burning yourself?" said Remus, eyes sparkling and humour restored.

"It might be difficult, but I think I can manage," said Neville dryly. Instead of an actual table, there was a counter with two stools that divided the kitchen from the living room in a rather half-hearted manner, and he was grateful that Remus had piled the necessary items on it so Nev didn't have to try and squeeze into the kitchen with him. Neville laid out cheerful blue placemats, giving them each the proper assortment of silver, a plate, teacup and saucer, and a glass for juice. Finished with his task, Neville perched on one of the stools and watched as Remus fried up eggs, tomatoes and sausage for them both.

Remus moved around the kitchen gracefully, putting juice on the counter for Neville to pour, starting the tea steeping and two thick slices of bread toasting, then back to the frying pan to make sure nothing overcooked. Soon enough the food was done, and Remus was sitting next to Neville spreading marmalade on toast as if he set out for adventures with boys half his age every day.

"Er," said Neville, poking at his own eggs and trying to remember what an appetite was and what one used it for, "how much climbing d'you think we'll have to do, anyway?"

"Not much, if you can Apparate. There'll be more athletics later, but for now I've got a fairly safe area picked out that's got a lot of vegetation nearby, with at least a couple of Grackleberry bushes." He ate a bite of sausage, then continued, "I didn't want to offer unless I knew there was work for two, you know? You don't deserve to be scrambling to fill two stomachs and Snape's weird orders."

"So, we're primarily going to be supplying Snape right now? Just Wolfsbane, or do you give him other stuff? Does he pay?" Neville asked, anxiety making the questions come out in a quick-fire burst. He could Apparate, but he was a little wobbly, and worse over long distances. Well, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it, so to speak.

Remus nodded. "I have a few apothecaries interested if we can get the right things, but up until now it's mostly been Snape ordering and me fulfilling what I can. He pays cash for anything that doesn't go into the Wolfsbane, and discounts the price of the potion based on how many of the ingredients I can supply."

It all seemed reasonable, to Neville's inexperienced ears, anyway; he'd just have to hope that Remus would do what was best for them both as he stepped off the pier of childhood and into the waters of the adult world, trusting Remus to keep them both from drowning.

Breakfast passed with nothing so dramatic as all that; once Neville's stomach remembered his long-standing habit of eating when stressed, he wolfed his food down. Eventually they got the equipment and their personal effects all sorted and packed, and there was nothing left to do except go. It was strange how this felt more like leaving home than it had to leave Gran behind, maybe because this was his own place now, or maybe just because the Finger Fern, which he had named Alice, had taken a liking to Trevor, and he'd had to leave the two of them nestled together, his first friend and his newest both staying behind while he faced the big bad world.

The big, bad world turned out to be a Floo stop in Norway, and then Apparition up to a bathroom-sized notch in the sheer side of a mountain top so high up that summer never really came, and Neville was glad that for the first, long jump, Remus had chosen to take him Side-Along instead of making him try to go under his own power. He couldn't imagine what would have happened if he'd missed the ledge and dropped, but he didn't expect it would have been a good thing.

"We'll Apparate from here up to the plateau," said Remus, pointing to a flat spot off in the distance, shimmering with greenery just a few dozen yards below the tree line.

"I'm licensed but I'm not brilliant at it," Neville admitted, hoping they weren't going to try to make it in a single jump.

Remus nodded, thankfully looking neither surprised nor disappointed. "Do you think you can make it to that little cave there?" he asked, pointing out a dark, man-sized hollow in the face of the rock about a Quidditch field's distance away.

"Oh, yeah, that's not that far," said Neville, brightening. Little jumps he could do, to places he could see. "I'll go first, just in case?"

Remus smiled and nodded. "I'm not really worried you'll leave any bits behind, but yeah, just in case."

A moment of concentration and Neville was there in the dry little cave, looking out over the distance to Remus. A quick inventory proved he hadn't splinched himself, and he waved to Remus encouragingly and stepped back from the mouth of the cave to give him plenty of room.

A glimmer in the darkness caught his eye and he turned, hoping it wasn't a predator who objected to their temporary intrusion. Instead he was delighted to find a cluster of Eyelights, something like a cross between lichen and an octopus, only with gleaming, phosphorescent eyes at the end of each tentacle-like frond. It clung to the cave wall and looked at Neville curiously, then darted half its eyes to Remus when he popped in. "Look, our first specimen!" said Neville excitedly, picking up a stray rock from the ground. "If I can coax it onto the rock, we can keep it in one of the trunks and I can cultivate some in my room."

"Good for potions to strengthen perception," said Remus, and Neville flushed; he'd almost forgotten why they were on this trip, though Remus was right and it was a good find economically as well as interesting botanically.

Neville managed to get a little three-stalk offshoot to perch on his rock, and he smiled and stroked its fronds for a moment before tucking it safely away in his robes. "All right, where to next?" he asked, going nervously to the cave mouth and peering out over the edge. He always had hated heights.

Remus indicated the next Apparition point, a little promontory just slightly further down and about a third of the remaining distance to the plateau. "It's kind of narrow, so I'll go first to give you something else to sight from," he said, and Neville agreed with relief.

Three more jumps and they were safely headed into the interior of the plateau, which Neville was fascinated to find carried all manner of magical plant life. "There must be some sort of magical wildlife around here that fertilizes this spot," said Neville, spotting a dozen things he wanted samples of on the way to the campsite Remus had chosen.

"Norwegian Ridgebacks used to be all over this area," said Remus, and Neville swallowed nervously. "Mostly gone now, but there's a few that still fly over this spot and, er, deposit."

"Dragon dung is a really brilliant fertilizer," said Neville stoically, trying not to glance up at the sky. "Is there, er, anything for them to eat up here?"

Remus laughed. "Yeah, there's a couple of herds that live on the other side of the plateau, frostdeer and groats. And a pack of dire wolves, but we're on the wrong half of the plateau, and the tent's got a Disillusionment charm built in, so we should be safe."

Neville swallowed, remembering suddenly why the plants they were gathering normally went for top dollar -- rarity went hand in hand with the danger involved in gathering them. He peeked into his outer cloak and three little glowing eyes peered back at him, and he hoped he'd get them all home in one piece.

---

They set up the tent and sorted some equipment, stowed the Eyelight in a pleasantly dark trunk and ate lunch, but eventually Neville had to admit he was just stalling, though it was kind of Remus not to say so. "All right, how do you want to do this?" he asked, looking at all the enticing greenery around them. "I know what's interesting to me, but that might not be the same thing as valuable."

Remus smiled. "Don't worry, that's what I'm here for," he said, pulling out a thick ledger. "I wanted to map out as much of this area as we can, taking samples or cuttings or whatever you need to see if you can grow things, or if we'll have to come back and collect them from here each time. I've been researching the market as well, and talking to Severus of course."

"Y-you're on a first name basis?" Neville asked, surprised.

"Well, you could say that," Remus replied with a wry little chuckle. "Mostly I call him Severus and he calls me Lupin, and we both understand that he means it as synonymous with something you'd scrape off your shoe after a walk through a field."

Neville laughed with him, then hefted the pack of collecting gear and nodded to the north. "Let's be methodical, then. We'll walk in a straight line north for an hour, then turn around and take notes and samples on the way back. That way, if we dawdle, we won't get caught out after dark."

Remus smiled and shook his head. "It's summer in Norway, there's not a lot of dark, but it's still a good plan."

"Oh," said Neville, blushing, "Right. Um. Me first, I guess?"

"I've got the compass, I'll go ahead for now."

Neville shrugged, and Remus headed off into the sparse undergrowth. There weren't a lot of trees here, mostly shrubs and other ground plants, but everything was taking glorious advantage of the last of the summer's long days and putting forth fruits and berries, flowers and seed pods. It was a perfect time for a harvest, and Neville could only admire Remus' careful planning. They didn't talk much as they went, both of them occupied with their thoughts and the less-than-simple task of traversing the rough ground, but Neville found he didn't mind so much. Instead, he made mental note of any interesting plants they passed, though he did warn Remus away from a little grove of Pummel Pines, their knobbly boughs rustling dangerously at the humans just out of their reach.

Not much else looked threatening, though Neville knew a lot of stuff was poisonous outside of a properly brewed potion, and soon enough they reached a good stopping point. A tiny waterfall broke out a rock and fell tinkling into a pool below, the edges iced over but the centre liquid and clear. "Let's start with the stuff around here, I can already see three really rare species," said Neville, kneeling down and casting a spell to check the water.

"Sure," said Remus agreeably, getting out the thick book and an Ever-Inked Quill. He cast a cushioning charm on a nearby rock and sat, then said, "You tell me what it is, and I'll tell you if it's valuable."

Neville went around to the far side of the little clearing and started with the plant trailing its vines down into the water right next to the fall. He slipped on the rocks but didn't fall in, much to Remus' somewhat irritating amusement. "Viscosity Vines," said Neville shortly, kneeling down to check the underside of the leaves, "Lowering type, probably what keeps the water liquid despite the cold." Neville himself was already grateful for the spells woven into his robes, cloak and gloves, keeping him warm and dry despite the spray from the falls.

"Valuable for some medical potions and other applications," said Remus, checking a smaller notebook he'd had tucked in the back of the ledger. "Can we grow them back at home?"

"They'll need a constant flow of water like this, but if we set up a water plants section it won't be any more trouble to put a waterfall fountain in," Neville replied, examining the little grouping. "I think I can snag some offshoots without hurting the main plant, that's the way they're normally harvested."

"Good, good," said Remus distractedly, making notations in the big ledger, juggling it with the smaller book awkwardly. "The young plants go for sixteen Galleons each, so get a few if you can. How long will the cuttings and seedlings last in the stasis orbs?"

Neville bit his lip; he'd talked to the dealer a long time before spending the money on the expensive glass balls, but if they worked as advertised, they'd pay for themselves a dozen times over. "The dealer said three months, so long as they're in soil from their planting site, but some stuff might still die sooner if it's resistant to the magic."

"Oh," said Remus, brows knitting. "You're sure we can get the greenhouses up in time?"

Neville sighed, hating the familiar feeling of inadequacy that gripped him as he answered, "I'm not really sure, no, but we have to come back here to harvest the High-Altitude Hellebore in October anyway, so we can replace whatever we lose, I guess."

Remus made another note. "Hm. Well, most of the plants sell just as well dried, so we can always make a few sickles off the dead samples, anyway."

Neville could only agree, though it pained him to think that he might have wasted so many Galleons on the orbs, only to have the plants inside still die. They worked their way around the whole pond like that, taking samples or harvesting ingredients from those things Neville didn't think they could grow. Neville took two things that weren't particularly valuable and was pleased that Remus didn't argue the waste of resources, one an interesting lily pad he thought Trevor might like, and the other one of the few plants he'd accidentally killed when helping out in the Hogwarts greenhouse, which he knew Professor Sprout hadn't yet bothered to replace.

The rest of the trip back was quicker though equally fascinating, and they made special note of a whole stand of Grackleberry bushes, heavy with berries and just waiting for harvest. Neville had left the special gloves and jars for them back at camp, so they'd come back tomorrow for the tempting little orbs -- the juice was a marvellous restorative, but the seeds were quite volatile, and had to be handled with utmost care.

---

Once they got back to the tent, Remus went inside to cook dinner while Neville got all the plants tucked away in the specialized trunk, each little orb nestling in its felt cradle with a tingle of protective magic. They'd used up about a third of the space, and he'd bought four of the trunks, so they still had plenty of room. He put together the expandable drying rack and laid out some of their harvest to wither in the sun, the dried leaves just as valuable as the living plants and much easier to transport home in the motley collection of boxes and jars that made up the bulk of the rest of their equipment.

They did have a wizarding tent, but it wasn't an expensive one, so there wasn't much privacy to be had of an evening. There was a tiny bathroom with a shower that never seemed to get quite warm enough, a slightly larger efficiency kitchen that Remus was using to good effect, and one medium-sized room with a fireplace, two smallish beds and just enough space to walk between them. The tent was weather tight, at least, so there was no worry about draughts, but Neville thought it would be strangely intimate to lie in bed every night, knowing Remus was there, less than an arm's length away.

Remus was just putting food onto plates when Neville came in, and he smiled as Nev headed straight for the little bathroom to get cleaned up. The food was steaming on trays when Neville emerged, and Remus was already sitting in his bed eating, nose buried in the ledger as he made notes, consulting the smaller book frequently.

"Thanks for cooking," said Neville awkwardly, getting his tray from the kitchen and finding that his own bed was really the only choice, unless he wanted to go back out into the cold.

"S'my job," said Remus around a mouthful of pork chop, not even looking up from his book.

Neville's spirits fell a little at being so dismissed, and he ate methodically, thinking about the samples they'd already gathered and the idea of having a lifetime ahead of him living so closely with a man who didn't want to talk to him when they weren't working. Well, at least the cold reception would put a damper on any foolish designs he might have developed for Remus, he thought miserably as he drank the last of his tea. "Take your tray?" he offered, his own balanced in one hand.

"Hm?" said Remus, looking up, eyes focusing on Neville slowly as if his gaze had been as far away as his thoughts.

"Can I take your tray into the kitchen?" Neville asked again, reaching for it.

Remus looked down at his long-empty teacup, then gave a sheepish little grin and nodded. "Sorry about, you know... My mates in school used to tease me until I pulled my head out of my books, but I ought to be able to do it myself by now," he said, making one last little notation before nestling the smaller book -- Potions Ingredients on the Open Market, a Magical Guide Neville finally saw, the expensive edition that would update as commodity prices changed -- into the ledger and setting everything aside.

Neville carefully transferred the trays to the scant counter space in the kitchen, then turned back to Remus curiously. "Sorry about what?"

"About ignoring you," Remus replied, and Neville felt one of the knots in his stomach loosen.

"Well, you're talking to me now," said Neville, feeling shy now that he had all of that attention on him. "Want me to make us another pot of tea and we can play cards or something? I'm bollocks at chess."

A worried look passed briefly over Remus' face, but he seemed to come to the conclusion that nothing too catastrophic could happen with him right there watching, and he agreed. "Sure," he said, pulling his personal pack out from under his bed and rummaging through it.

Neville chose not to enlighten Remus as to how many disasters he'd caused right under Snape's nose, and instead concentrated on what his hands were doing. He put the kettle on the burner and laid out everything he'd need on one of the trays, sending sidelong glances over at Remus periodically. The water boiled and Neville went through the little ritual he'd learned at his Gran's knee, swirling hot water in the pot, adding the leaves and filling it up just so high. He capped the pot and dumped out the excess hot water, set the kettle on a cool burner, double checked that he had everything they might want on the tray, and then decided to prove to them both he wasn't a complete idiot by levitating the tray over to hover between the two beds.

"Thanks," said Remus, tapping it with his wand. It wobbled a little, then grew long legs and a much bigger surface, turning itself into a card table just big enough for them and their tea. "Gin all right?"

Neville scooted in, setting the ex-tray to swaying a little before he let go of his levitation spell entirely and let it settle down onto the surprisingly sturdy legs. "Rummy, please. And I don't mind helping when I can," he said, hoping Remus understood he meant more than just a pot of tea.

Remus grinned. "Of course not, or we'd get along terribly," he said, shuffling the worn deck of cards and dealing them each ten. "Er, don't mind the pictures. They were a gift from Sirius and I never had the heart to get rid of them."

Neville's eyes widened when he looked at his hand, the Two of Spades catching his attention right away with a cheerful left-handed wave; the right hand was busy wanking a rather impressive prick. All the cards had blokes on them doing similar activities, and they all looked absolutely overjoyed to have a fresh audience to appreciate their slightly time-worn charms. "Why did Sirius give you naughty gay playing cards?" Neville asked, sorting his hand as though the face cards weren't all decorated with couples engaged in various carnal acts.

Remus blushed. "I, er..."

"You don't have to tell me, though you perhaps ought to know that Tonks told me you fancied blokes," said Neville with a nervous little cough. "Er, well, I guess she just implied it, really, but she did seem really convinced we were, you know. Like Kingsley had thought."

"You poor thing," said Remus sympathetically, flipping over the top card of the stack to reveal the enthusiastically fucking Kings of Hearts.

Neville tried really hard not to notice that the two blokes on the card looked suspiciously like he imagined Remus and Sirius might have at a much younger and more prosperous age, and he felt torn between wanting a closer look and really not needing a King in his hand. "I, er, expect I'll survive," he said, taking the top card off the pile and getting a lovely shot of some bloke's arse and balls, hands holding his cheeks wide to expose the winking hole. "After all," he said nonchalantly, rearranging his hand to accommodate the Ace and discarding the four of clubs, who pouted and blew him a goodbye kiss, "You're going to have to put up with everyone thinking you've pulled me."

Remus chuckled. "Better than having Tonks mooning at me, or sulking in the corner over Sirius," he said with a shrug, though Neville could see the shadow of old and new pain lingering in his eyes.

A few turns passed in silence, and Neville was amused when the figures on the cards peeked around the edges as the discard pile grew, or thrust other appendages out as if to entice the players into picking them up. "Y-you loved him?" Neville asked quietly, hoping he wasn't overstepping his bounds but eaten up by curiosity.

Remus nodded and sighed wistfully, then spoiled his sad little boy act completely by laying down Gin.

"Bugger," said Neville, putting his own hand down. "Points, or just individual games?"

Remus' answering smile was sheepish and almost adorable, and Neville found himself unable to resist smiling back shyly. "Let's just do games, so you don't refuse to play with me like P- James used to."

Neville had a feeling he knew what name had nearly gone there, and he nodded his agreement and gathered up the cards for his deal. "I think work went well today, don't you?" he asked as he shuffled.

"Yeah, we got a great start. I think this is going to work out really well for us," said Remus, pouring their tea, which had steeped to a lovely deep brown almost like coffee while they'd played. "Two sugars, right?"

Neville nodded, strangely pleased that Remus had remembered. He watched as Remus added a splash of milk to his own and gave them both a stir, then dealt the cards before accepting his cup. "Thanks," he said, taking a sip and making a pleased face. He'd nicked a tin of tea from his Gran's kitchen before leaving; he had a feeling they'd have to economise on a lot of necessities, and he had a weakness for a good cuppa.

"The Eyelight doesn't seem to like the trunk much," said Neville, frowning at his cards. They attempted to cheer him up with some rather athletic antics that got him squirming in his seat, and he felt his cheeks burning as he rearranged them.

Remus shrugged and took his turn. "That's your area, got any ideas?"

Neville pointed to the little hollow under the nightstand, appropriately dim but much airier than a closed trunk. "Could I try putting him down there?"

"Him?" said Remus, raising an eyebrow.

Neville flushed a bit deeper pink. "I, er, named him Stuart."

Remus chuckled. "Stuart is perfectly welcome in our home, if you think he won't mind the light too much."

Neville's grin seemed to please his cards as well as Remus. "Thanks. I'll go get him after this hand."

Remus won again, but it was a closer game this time, somewhat allaying Neville's suspicions that the cards favoured their owner. The little plant was pathetically grateful to see Neville when he opened the trunk lid, and Stuart twined one vine happily around Neville's wrist as he was carried inside. "He really is fond of you, isn't he?" said Remus, amused at the vine's antics and the somewhat jealous glare it shot him.

"Apparently so," said Neville, depositing Stuart's rock in the back corner of the little nightstand. The plant gave Neville one last little caress and then settled in, glowing gently, obviously quite a bit happier in its new surroundings.

"You'd better watch out," said Remus, shuffling the deck again. "He might molest you in your sleep."

Neville had a feeling he wouldn't stop blushing until after he'd fallen asleep, at this rate.

---

They walked the other three cardinal directions the next day, then began filling in the gaps, generally managing two good outings a day, though sometimes one was given over to harvesting. The days passed pleasantly enough, with a few fumbles here and there. Remus got snappish over the Blubberbells -- the delicate gelatine-like fruits burst at the least little jarring, so much so that Neville spoiled more than he harvested, and nearly ruined his gloves as well with the oily residue. Neville started an argument the next day over Remus' note-taking, appalled at some of the things he'd neglected to jot down in his obsession over prices, forcing them to do some backtracking to record things like light and soil conditions. In the end, though, Neville was happy about the way things were going. It was work he loved, and he was good at it. These were two things he'd never expected out of his future, and the heady combination made everything else seem trivial.

Their trunks filled up with everything from the precious Grackleberries to some uncommon clover that Neville wanted to show Sprout, and they continued to play cards in the evenings while Stuart sent up a fourth little eye-shoot, and even developed a liking for both Remus and the saucers of sweet tea that Neville left in his niche for him at bedtime. The third day in, Neville finally admitted to Remus that he didn't actually like fried tomatoes, and slowly the old barriers of authority and age began to break down as they began to develop a true partnership.

Nine days into their stay, an exhausted-looking owl arrived bearing an urgent request for some ingredients from Snape, most of which they'd already found. "I think I saw a group of Air Ferns out past those Manly Mountain Mangroves yesterday," said Neville, looking over the list while he drank the rest of his tea. "If you can snip a few more Snow Pods while I capture them, we can be done by lunch."

"And off to see Snape before tea," said Remus wryly, obviously not looking forward to the visit any more than Neville was. "Well, we were nearly full up with specimens anyway, I suppose it's no great loss to go back a few days early."

It took all of Neville's courage to go out and get the Air Ferns, especially knowing that his reward would be a visit with the one man who never failed to make him feel small and insignificant. The Mangroves grew along the very edge of the plateau as though the vast expanse of air were the shore of some strange lake, their roots often dangling out over the long drop. Past that a little cloud of green puffs floated on the wind, their little round shapes tumbling rather than being moved when a larger gust tried to sweep the whole patch away. Neville wedged himself firmly between two Mangroves and got out his wand, teasing a single fern away from its fellows and into one of his few remaining orbs with painstaking slowness. Too much force would start it spinning in place, but too little and the wind would steal it away, or scatter the precious spores on the wind.

It took Neville nearly an hour to get the half-dozen Air Ferns requested, and he just didn't have the energy left to try and get a seventh for the greenhouse. He trudged back toward their tent tiredly, precious spheres tucked away and barely watching where he put his feet. He nearly stepped on the tiny flower in his exhaustion, but suddenly the empty sphere was a blessing instead of a failure. He carefully transplanted the single Fire Briar Rose into the glass orb, making a mental note of the location and everything about it in order to report to Remus when he got back to camp.

When he got there, the tent was all packed away and most of their things as well, only the one trunk left with seven empty slots for Neville's cargo. "Look what I found," he said excitedly, pulling the rose out of his pack and showing it to Remus.

"It's a rose, Neville," said Remus, looking tired and irritated. "Can't you get those at any greenhouse in London?"

Neville shook his head, nestling the precious flower away as he talked. "It's a Fire Briar Rose. They're rare enough we could probably auction this one off for a great deal of money, but I'd rather keep it for the greenhouse. D'you have the ledger so I can get down my notes before I forget them?" he asked, hands busy transferring the Air Ferns into the trunk as well, each little plant still tumbling happily away inside its stasis orb.

"A real Fire Briar Rose?" Remus asked, sounding impressed as he dug out the fat book and handed it over, along with a quill. "Like in the play?"

"Each petal to set the fires of a different emotion in one's heart, each thorn to deliver the prick of retribution for a different sin," said Neville, quoting the relevant passage from Petals on the Brazier.

Satisfied that he had the location and environmental factors down, Neville looked up to find that Remus had packed that trunk, too, away, and they were ready to abandon their idyllic little haven in favour of bearding the serpent in his den. "Where'd you put Stuart?" he asked, smiling when the plant waved one eyestalk from the little space between two leaning packs. "Want to ride in my robes again?" Neville asked, kneeling down and pulling him out to examine. The fourth stalk was growing well, the eye nearly ready to open, and Neville thought he saw the bud of a fifth on the other side; apparently sweet tea was excellent for its growth.

The fronds waved their agreement, and he tucked the rock in a pocket so the eyes could still peek out, just as he had on the way in, then shouldered his pack and turned back to Remus. "Same route back?" he asked; though he was more confident in his own magic, he was also tired from harvesting the Air Ferns, and nervous about the coming meeting.

"Yep. Maybe we should get Stuart a friend?" said Remus, setting out for the little clearing they'd arrived at, out on the edge of the plateau.

Neville chuckled. "Want one for your own room?" he offered; Stuart was his own friend, in a way, and he'd likely prefer to have all the resources of Neville's cave-like bedroom to himself rather than having to share with another Eyelight.

Remus shook his head. "No, no, that's all right," he said, stopping to look out over the breathtaking view one more time. "I'll go on ahead this time, I've got most of the magical luggage and we don't want to lose anything," he said after a moment of silence, then Disapparated with a crack.

They made it back to their London flat in no time, unloading everything and then resizing and repacking, careful to keep their plants separate from the things they'd brought for Snape. Almost all of the harvested ingredients were going to Snape, though Neville saved a small jar of Grackleberries to try and grow their own bushes, and one of the Blubberbells had taken a jolt and turned to useless goo. Only one trunk of the live plants went with them, however, and Neville tucked Stuart carefully away in his bedroom. Eyelights were excellent ingredients, and Neville wasn't ready to argue about the disposition of that particular plant today.

"I don't suppose we've time for lunch first," said Neville a bit forlornly, once they'd both changed and done a sketchy wash.

Remus shook his head. "The owl was urgent and dated for three days ago, we might already be too late," he said, and Neville got the annoyingly familiar feeling Remus wasn't telling him everything.

"You know what the ingredients are for," Neville said accusingly. "I'm not a child anymore, don't you think you should've told me?"

Remus stopped shrinking things and stared, then shook his head. "I'm an idiot. Of course I should have, but we got so into the habit with the Order..."

"I know what the Order kept from us," said Neville bitterly; the younger members had been kept in the dark nearly to the point of fatality for some, and none of them had ever quite forgiven the decision not to tell them what had been going on.

Remus sighed. "I'm sorry, Neville, you're right. The ingredient list is for some sort of burn potion, something for a really severe injury. I'm concerned something's happened to Charlie, though of course it could be a number of accidents," he said, packing the last of the reduced trunks away into his bag.

"Oh no," said Neville, somewhat glad he hadn't known that someone's life might rest on their harvest when they'd been doing the work. "Well, we'd best get going, then. Speak the Floo address clearly and I'll follow."

Remus' smile held all the approval Neville had once tried so very hard to win from him, both as a student and a comrade in the war, and Neville returned it shyly, feeling thirteen again and pleasantly squirmy. The feeling dropped away when Remus turned and Flooed to Snape's address, and Neville followed with some trepidation. If their mostly-idyllic time on the plateau had been something like training, then this was the trial by fire that would show him if he could really count himself among the adults.

Remus and Snape were already unpacking the bag when Neville arrived in the dim little room, and Neville spared a moment to wonder where on earth they'd unpack everything to. The walls were lined with shelves full of ingredients already, and every available surface seemed to have a potion in progress on it, which made Neville shrink in on himself in irrational fear.

"...pay you today, but I assure you my credit is good," Snape was saying, and Neville felt his stomach drop. Their very first delivery, and Snape was already taking advantage.

"You'll have a partial payment at least, I t-trust?" said Neville, shooting Remus a sidelong glance as he stepped up, shaking hands thrust in the pocket of his robes.

Snape glared, then nodded. "I have an amount sufficient for our usual transaction, but I am well aware that Air Ferns and Snow Pods do not come cheaply," he said. "Once the potion is paid for, I will forward you your portion of the proceeds."

"What happened?" Remus asked, thankfully pulling Snape's attention away from Neville.

Snape turned and tapped one wall and spoke something too swiftly for Neville to make it out, and the shelves on it parted, revealing another laboratory much like this one, but with empty tables and significantly less clutter on the shelves. "I am told it was an incendiary device," he said, wand directing the miniature trunks to rest, one on each table.

Remus followed the procession and enlarged them one by one, saving the one with live specimens for last. "Who's the potion for, Severus?" he asked, voice amused as though he'd expected Snape to be just like this, as unhelpful and unforthcoming as a stone blocking your path.

"Fudge," said Snape with distaste, and the puzzle pieces fell into place at last. There was a lot of lingering resentment for the former Minister, especially from those whose families were decimated by the Death Eaters, and there had been a great deal of bad press about him lately.

"So he'll be able to pay, but most Apothecaries won't brew for him," said Neville, opening the trunk of live plants and checking everything over. "Do you have somewhere to store the live plants once they're out of the stasis orbs?"

Snape's eyebrows shot up. "Since when can you afford stasis orbs, Lupin?" he asked, ignoring Neville as much as possible.

"Neville bought them," said Remus, smirking.

"Ah," said Snape, as if that explained everything. He summoned a set of scales and began to remove boxes and jars from the first of their ingredients trunks, weighing the contents of each carefully and then transferring them to one of his own vessels, a Dictaquill noting down the date, amount and type of each item on the label. Remus got out a quill and scroll and began to take notes while Neville stood there feeling useless. Neville resisted the urge to fidget, though he did turn and peruse the shelves in here, hands behind his back to keep from accidentally touching anything that ought not be disturbed.

Once they got the first trunk unpacked, Snape's eyes came to rest reluctantly on Neville. "Though your aptitude with potions is abysmal," he said, looking as though it pained him to continue, "You appear marginally competent in your chosen profession." There was a long pause while Neville and Remus both stared at Snape as though he'd grown an extra head, and he finally gave in and clarified. "It will go faster if you aid us."

"Shall I weigh?" Neville asked, moving toward the second trunk.

Snape nodded. "I will confirm each weight and dictate to the quill, then store the item while you prepare the next."

"Right," said Neville, opening the trunk. "Any particular order?"

"We must do them all eventually," said Snape, and Neville took that as a no and very gingerly pulled out the first jar of Blubberbells.

"I'm not sure we should decant these," said Neville, looking at the carefully packed and charmed jar. "Do we have one of these jars that's been emptied that we could use for a zero weight, Remus?"

"I think so, if that's all right with you, Severus?" said Remus, fishing an identical jar out of the other trunk and dusting out the remaining pollen lingering in the bottom.

"Acceptable," said Snape, and Neville got the distinct impression that he was unpleasantly surprised that Neville had thought of an intelligent solution to the problem.

All of the Blubberbells were in the same sort of container, and they were quickly weighed and labelled once the scale had been reset. Remus kindly didn't charge Snape for the jars, which he later admitted to Neville were recycled gherkin jars from the local deli, and they quickly moved on to the rest of the ingredients. Nothing else was as fragile, though there was some argument as to the best way to measure the Feather Pollen, which rang up at a whopping five Galleons, seven Sickles per gram. Considering they'd gathered most of it when Neville tripped over the strap of his pack and landed on top of a whole patch of the delicate flowers, they managed to make a tidy little sum from the compromise figure of fourteen and a half grams.

By the time they got to the live plants, things were going so smoothly you could hardly tell that Neville had only just joined in, but of course that was when they hit a snag. "You can't buy the orbs, Severus," said Remus for the fifth time.

"The sets are really expensive," said Neville, watching the spidery fingers fondle the surface of one. "I won't break it up and sell you one or two just because you don't have any way to care for the plants inside." The individual orbs actually cost less out of the set than in, and the salesman had explained to Neville that this was because the sets were attuned to one another. Neville had given in and bought all four because they'd all been made together and were interchangeable.

"I find it difficult to believe that you would go up into the Dovrefjell Mountains for a few plants," said Snape, waving his arm to encompass the room and all its contents, "but cannot be bothered to walk back to Diagon Alley for another orb."

"The sets can't be broken up," said Neville for the third time, firm in his resolve despite the feeling that he'd much rather be throwing up just then.

Remus shook his head, and Snape looked like he wanted to hit something. "I need these plants, Longbottom."

"I n-need my stasis orbs," said Neville, his hands shaking enough that he had to grip the edge of the counter just to keep it from making his voice quaver as well.

"What about borrowing the whole set until you can acquire a few of your own?" asked Remus, and they both shot him looks, Neville's of gratitude and Snape's of pure venom.

"I was under the impression that Longbottom did not want to let them out of his sight," said Snape derisively.

"If you break one, you have to replace the set," said Neville, knowing it would be a pain to keep another set apart from the three intact ones, but there had been some different ones he wouldn't mind trying out, with larger or oddly-shaped orbs that would be easier to discern.

"Agreed," said Snape, closing the lid on the trunk and snapping the locks closed.

Neville's breath left him in a whoosh, and he was glad to sink down onto one of the few stools while Remus and Snape discussed the final total, crossing off some things or making notations. Neville knew that Snape wouldn't be paying full market price for their bounty, that was part of the deal, and he was slightly shocked when he heard them agree on a final figure. It wasn't enough to build a greenhouse, but it was certainly enough to keep them in tea and groceries until they got the greenhouses built.

"I have approximately one-third of that now," said Snape, going over to the only wall without a shelf and doing something to the painting that adorned it, and returning with a purse. "I will be able to produce another third once Fudge pays for his potion, and the rest I should be able to give you within two weeks."

"That's fine. We're probably going to hit the forest next for seasonal harvesting, though, if you wanted to send along a list?" said Remus, and Neville got the distinct feeling that he was missing some underlying history here.

"Trying to get me to overextend myself, Lupin?" snapped Snape irritably.

Neville ventured a comment in the ensuing silence. "You've been i-invaluable in helping us get started, so a little credit isn't out of order," he said, wishing he had some idea of what was going on between them. "Seasonal ingredients c-can't always be in the b-budget, I imagine."

"Very perceptive, Longbottom," said Snape angrily, and Neville knew he'd hit upon the sore spot.

Remus glanced from Neville to Snape as if trying to decide if he should bring something up, then finally said, "There's still the offer I made before."

"As if I want you crawling over my home and land constantly," said Snape disdainfully, sneering. "I'd rather overextend."

"It's all right, Remus," said Neville, putting a hand on Remus' arm. "I-I'm not sure I'd want to build a greenhouse in Snape's backyard a-anyway."

Remus sighed and nodded. "We'll take our leave, then, Severus."

Snape only nodded, already moving to put away some of his expensively-won bounty. Remus silently packed away their much lighter trunks, leaving the precious orbs in Snape's care. They Flooed back to their apartment in silence, and Neville flopped himself on the couch with a huge sigh. "He's unpleasant as ever."

"He's having a hard time. Very few people will do business with him, and the sort of potions they're desperate enough to ask for usually involve rare and expensive ingredients," said Remus, sitting on other end of the couch and looking as tired as Neville had ever seen him.

"So he's having trouble keeping ahead of his expenses," said Neville, nodding. "Look, I... I know he's a bastard, but he's honourable in his own way, and he's our only customer. Do whatever you have to do to keep us all afloat, and we'll be thrifty with our seed money in the meantime."

Remus' face lit up with relief. "You really don't mind?" he asked, stretching as if he could pull out the leftover tension. "I know you hated him at school."

Neville shrugged. "He was a bastard and I was terrible at potions, but now he's our customer." He chewed his lip, looking off into the middle distance and contemplating the situation. His stomach interrupted him, growling ferociously, and they both laughed. Remus got up to make them up a hearty tea, lunch a distant dream by now, and Neville contemplated their full trunks and the work left to be done.

They were done eating and sipping their tea in silence when Neville said suddenly, "How about we buy him a few of his own stasis orbs? You know, how some firms get gifts for their clients. The place I got mine etches them if you want, we could put our business name on them, or something."

Remus sat back and smiled, looking oddly proud. "I think that's a brilliant idea, we have to get another set anyway. I'm sure there's things in the forest you want to bring back alive."

Neville laughed and conceded that that, too, had been on his shopping agenda. Once they'd made a list of things to buy in Diagon Alley tomorrow, they took turns in the bath, and Neville was highly amused to end the evening sharing his bed with Remus, each of them sitting at an end while they played cards, while Stuart looked on from his new home atop Neville's wardrobe. It was, Neville reflected as he lost to Remus for the fifth straight game, more than a little bit like home.

---

The next day Remus stayed home to let in the Floo cleaners, and Neville made a few social calls, first the obligatory visit to his grandmother, who assured him her man at law was already working on the paperwork for them and demanded they think of a name and owl back the signed papers before they left Britain again. He escaped with his skin intact and belly full of her house elf's delicious cooking, and headed up to the school, where an owl had assured him that Professor Sprout would be doing summer work in the greenhouses today.

"Professor?" Neville called, poking his nose into Greenhouse Three and smiling to see a few potted Mandrakes still thriving, offspring of the plants his class had grown his second year.

"Neville, dear," said Sprout, bustling out of the office in back with a smile on her face. "No need to stand on ceremony, call me Pomona, please."

"Pomona, then," said Neville; working with the Order had gotten him used to calling some of his old professors by their first names. At least he could rest assured that he'd never be called upon to address Binns informally, or Snape for that matter. "I brought you something, to replace the one I killed in my fifth year."

"What... oh, you didn't!" she said, looking terribly pleased as Neville handed over the pot in which he'd planted the half dozen Manic Maple seedlings he'd found up in the mountains. They were too unstable to use in most potions, and a little too hyperactive for landscaping, but Sprout had kept some around to show how a plant could be magical and hard to care for, and still utterly useless for practical purposes. "They're perfect, young and spry, look at them shake."

"They were he- tough to pot, but I couldn't resist bringing you some when I found a stand of them on our trip out," he replied with a smile. "Our harvest seems to have done really well so far, we even got a number of samples to put in a greenhouse and try to grow at a safer altitude."

"That's wonderful, dear," she said, setting the pot aside on a work bench. "It's good to see one of my students using his skills out in the world."

Neville assured her that he wouldn't have any marketable skills at all if it wasn't for her, and the two of them launched into an afternoon of reminiscing, punctuated by the ubiquitous offer of a cup of tea and a minor moment of panic when the Maples tried to fling themselves and their pot off the edge of the table. By the time they were done, Neville was reminded again of why he thought he could do this, bolstered by her confidence in him. He promised her an invitation to tea in the nebulous future, and left her to her own greenhouses already starting to mentally plan how he'd work theirs out.

He came back to find Remus cooking them a somewhat more elaborate dinner than he'd managed in the tent, in plenty of time to set the counter and be what little help he could. Afterwards he told Remus about his day over cards, and they tried to think of names for their business, and made plans to spend tomorrow running errands in Diagon Alley. Neville fell asleep that night with a smile on his face, a slightly larger crush on Remus than before, and a bright hope for the future.

---

On their first errand, Neville ended up buying two more of the travel cases full of stasis orbs, and commissioning a dozen of individual orbs to be etched with "L&L, Ltd.", a name that had amused him and Remus both enough during their card playing last night that they decided to adopt it over breakfast. They stopped at the post office and owled Gran to give her the signed paperwork, complete with their new name and a draft from Remus to cover any application expenses, and then they spent the rest of the afternoon looking at empty lots and trying to figure out which one was cheap enough they could afford it, but in a good enough location to build their greenhouses.

They visited Gringotts as well, depositing Snape's money into Remus' tiny vault and checking on the true status of Neville's, the piles of gold a comforting promise for their future. Dinner was at a pub in some remote little village with a property available that seemed like it might do, with a lot of work and a little luck. A warm feeling of accomplishment filled some of the yawning pit of inadequacy that had been lurking inside Neville for as long as he could remember, though it was still present enough to ache when Remus appeared at his bedroom door, freshly showered and offering his company.

They drank tea and played gin rummy with Remus' naughty cards, and Neville even won, once. It didn't really help.

The next morning they set out for the Forbidden Forest with permission from Headmistress McGonagall and the intention of spending just the day out there and coming back before nightfall. The sky was a flawless vault of blue arching above the little clearing they arrived in, having Apparated to a spot outside the school wards near the Hogsmeade edge of the forest. "It's really lovely here," said Neville shyly, looking around at the butterflies floating from flower to flower, listening to the hum of bees and chirp of birds, basking in the warmth of the summer sun.

"It was one of my favourite spots as a student," said Remus quietly, already setting up a home base of sorts for them to bring the harvested ingredients.

"Soothing enough to tame the wild beast," Neville teased, hoping it wasn't overstepping. Remus' lycanthropy seemed a strange and distant dream to him, something to schedule around but not fear or hide.

Remus chuckled ruefully, and Neville let out the breath he'd been holding. "I suppose so."

When they set out, Remus was in the lead once again, this time not because of any worry over danger, but because he knew the land, knew where a brambly patch of Mistberries lurked in one of the hollows just waiting to be picked and a whole grove of Putrid Poplars played host to several kinds of fungi invaluable in the creation of healing potions. A lot of the things they were looking for would only grow well in the forest like this, surrounded by all the wild magic, and so their harvests over the next few weeks would have to stock Snape for a whole year, until the berries, leaves and fungi they were hunting grew ripe and ready once more.

Their last stop of the day was at a strange grove that was almost an orchard, tall Adam's Apple trees jutting up into the sky, branches laden with the precious fruit. Below them the ground was covered in Eve's Lilies, whose flowers would only open at night, swallowing down those apples that fell and fertilizing both themselves and the next generation of trees as they digested the oblong fruit and spat seeds back into the soil. Neville felt his cheeks heat as they stood at the edge of the strange orchard, and it was Remus who ended up breaking the embarrassed silence.

"At night, the air smells of musk so pungent animals will lay down and mate on the blooms, their body heat helping along the digestion and spreading the lilies' pollen."

Neville grinned. "Been taken in by them yourself, Remus?" he asked, wondering if he ought to take a sample of the blooms and a seedling or two just to see if the aphrodisiac could be captured.

Remus chuckled and shook his head. "That's not my story to tell," he said, looking up into the branches at the gaps where the sky shone through the green leaves.

"Wands for harvesting, then?" Neville asked. They'd have to levitate the apples to them individually, or find some way up to the lowest branches and pluck them by hand. Tedium or danger, not the best of choices.

"Should've brought brooms," said Remus thoughtfully, and Neville shook his head.

"I can't fly at all. I'm a disaster."

"Right, Harry told me about the Remembrall incident," said Remus, looking slightly abashed to have forgotten.

That almost made Neville feel better about not being able to do his job. "What if we came back tomorrow, borrowed one of the school brooms, and you could harvest them in groups and levitate them down to me?"

"The grove's ripe now, today," said Remus, shaking his head. "We got lucky, but tomorrow they may all be inside the flowers." Neville nodded; it had been wishful thinking. "I'm going to see if I can't climb them with a charm I know," said Remus abruptly, carefully making his way to the smooth trunk of one of the trees. "You catch what I toss down?"

"A-all right," said Neville. Neville had to trust that Remus knew what he was doing, that's what Neville had promised himself, so he ignored the bad feeling in his stomach and cast a simple net charm over the area just above head height, the magical mesh fine enough that only the smallest, most unripe fruits would slip through.

Remus cast his charm and began to shimmy up the tree like a squirrel, lacking only the bushy tail and pointed ears. It made Neville's stomach hurt to see him go so high, as though Neville's vertigo worked for other people as well, or maybe just Remus, since he'd never felt like this during a Quidditch match, not even for Harry. He busied himself on the ground, moving off to one side and carefully transplanting a few seedling trees and their surrounding closed flowers into one of the largest orbs, though this one was more of an elongated egg-shape, over a foot tall and fat at the bottom.

Neville sealed it up with a feeling of satisfaction, glancing over to make sure his net was holding. He got a different sort of twinge when he saw the fruit that had already been caught in the shimmering magical web, firm cock-and-bollocks-shaped apples of all sizes piled up like some sort of obscene window display. He'd known, intellectually, where the trees got their name, and he wondered if Remus would notice if he swiped one and put it to its traditional use among lonely maids, and men of his persuasion. He was quite a hand at Silencing Charms after all, and they just looked so very tempting.

Neville had already reached out to pluck a short, fat apple out of the bunch when he heard a yell and looked up, and the world seemed to slow down. Remus plummeted toward him, toward his net, going faster than Neville could think. A wave of Neville's wand and the net expanded, strengthened, and Neville could only hope it was enough.

Remus' body crashed through it and into the flowers, hitting the ground with a thud before the net reformed and lifted him back up, cradling his body. A few of the apples had been lost but, Neville thought irrelevantly, at least most of the harvest had been saved, the fruits nestling all along one side of Remus' body. Neville ran into the clearing, heedless of the smashed flowers and their scent, and was happy to find Remus blinking, aware, and most importantly not dead.

"Get off the flowers," said Remus, his voice rough with pain and something else, a lust that Neville knew could only have come from the pollen coating his clothes and hair.

"Just stay still, I'll pull the net back and box the apples, then levitate you out," said Neville, backing out of the orchard carefully and pulling the net with him, the spell sluggish and unresponsive under so much weight.

Remus relaxed back but didn't close his eyes, blinking up at the canopy of leaves and branches above them. "Next year, make me bring a broom," he said dazedly, and Neville couldn't hold back the hysterical giggle that bubbled up.

"Would you have fallen off that, too?" he asked, using his wand to direct the apples into their box, all thoughts of pocketing one washed away by his concern for Remus.

Remus coughed and Neville thought he saw blood in the flecks of spit on Remus' lips. "Likely."

"I'll bring Harry next year, then," said Neville, trying not to imagine the Seeker up there plucking the phallic apples, the image pulling at his concentration while he tightened the net under Remus until it was just big enough, the strands of magic almost as dense as cloth now that they weren't covering such a large area.

Remus laughed, and it sounded painful. Neville shrunk the apple boxes and sphere and got them all tucked away in the pack, then shouldered it. "Don't try to get out of the net, or I'll lose it and you'll get to feel the rest of that fall," said Neville lightly, trying to ignore the worry that speared through him at the thought.

"It's not the falling, so much as the sudden stop," said Remus, coughing again and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Do you think Madam Pomfrey missed me?"

"I think you hit your head awfully hard," said Neville, amusement warring with concern. Fortunately for them, they'd packed up their last batch of goodies before heading for the Adam's Apple orchard, mindful of the growing shadows surrounding them. "It's summer, I'm taking you into town instead. Poppy's not there."

"Right, sorry, f'rgot," said Remus, his voice growing faint and tired while Neville figured out how to cart all of their hard-won bounty and still have a hand free to guide Remus.

"Keep talking to me, Remus, don't leave me to face Snape alone," said Neville worriedly, walking right beside Remus' head as he picked his way through the forest's edge toward the path to Hogsmeade. "He'd cheat me terribly on the apples because I'm too embarrassed to argue."

"Wouldn' do that," said Remus, sounding less and less coherent with every word. "Don' wan' you an' Snape to take up, ruin my plans f'r you."

"Snape would rather shag a basilisk," said Neville, immediately regretting the metaphor and the image that came with it. "Your plans are safe."

"Y'r arse is safe, y'mean," said Remus with a drunken giggle, and Neville had never been so glad to see the roofs of Hogsmeade in his life.

"Just a little more and we can get you to a healer," Neville reassured him, happy to see someone spot them, wave, and then go running.

"Doctor, doctor, can't you see I'm burnin', burniiiin'!" Remus crooned, running a hand down the front of his body and calling attention to the fact that either he had a particularly sizeable apple in his robes, or he'd inhaled a lot more of the pollen than Neville had realised.

"Let's hope the pollen's curable as a head wound would be," said Neville, ignoring the crowd they were attracting as he steered the impromptu stretcher toward the healer's office.

"What sort of pollen, my boy?" said a man in Healer's robes, hurrying up from the very building Neville had been aiming for. He was tall and muscular, his summer blond hair spreading out over his shoulders and emphasizing their breadth.

"Pussy Pollen!" Remus crowed, running his finger down his own cheek and leaving a little smear of rosy powder behind.

"Eve's Lilies," said Neville, blushing. "We had Professor McGonagall's permission to harvest in the Forest, and he fell out of an Adam's Apple tree."

"Daylight exposure to Eve's Lily pollen. The effect is probably temporary, then," said the Healer, helping Neville move Remus the last little way and settle him in a small infirmary bed.

Neville dismissed the net and set his other burdens down as well, sinking gratefully into a chair next to Remus' bed. "You're in good hands now, Remus," he said, hoping it was true.

The hands in question were already running a long, slender wand over Remus' prone form. "I'm Healer Ian Fizzitsh, and I'll be taking care of you, Remus."

"Will you take care of alllll my needs?" Remus asked, eyebrows waggling bizarrely.

"I'm Neville Longbottom, and this is Remus Lupin," said Nev, ignoring Remus' outburst. "He's, um..."

"I know, I recognized him from the papers," said the healer, now using his wand to direct a little rose-coloured cloud of pollen from Remus and Neville's clothing and into a specimen jar. "You can call me Ian."

"Ian Fizzitsh, Physician Ian," said Remus in a singsong voice.

"He'll really be all right?" Neville asked worriedly. "He's usually quite, er, subdued. Not like this at all."

"He'll really be all right," Ian assured him. "The damage from the fall is a couple of broken ribs, one of which nicked a lung but not seriously, a lot of bruising and a very mild concussion. Since the flowers weren't properly in bloom, the pollen ought to wear off in a few hours without having to, er, tend to the effects, though if you're that sort of friends, it'll go faster if you give him a helping hand."

Neville shook his head, blushing pinker than the pollen. "No, no, we're colleagues and friends is all," he protested, knowing it was probably vehement enough to give him away if Ian was half as smart as he appeared to be.

"Ah, well," said Ian, tapping his lips with his wand and bringing his full mouth to Neville's embarrassed attention. "Would've made things easier, but I can heal the ribs and lung without a potion, and he'll just have to wait out the pollen before I give him something for the bruises."

Neville swallowed and nodded. "Thank you, I was really worried he'd rattled his brains with the way he was talking."

A large, warm hand settled on Neville's shoulder, and Ian's smile lit up the room as though the sun had come from behind a cloud, just barely piercing the fog of Neville's worry for Remus. "You did the right thing, bringing him here, Neville."

Remus launched into an off-key rendition of "Do the Hippogriff" that had some lyrics in it Neville had certainly never heard before, and suspected the twins had probably invented.

"Why don't we have a cup of tea while he calms down?" said Ian, offering Neville a hand up. "The bed's got charms to keep him in it, and we can sit right over there."

Neville's eyes followed the pointing finger to a cosy little nook with three chairs, where Healer Ian likely gave people the news, good or bad, about themselves or their relatives' conditions. Neville took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be led, grateful when his ears popped as they entered the perimeter of a muffling charm, and the raucous singing faded to a distant murmur.

"Thank you," said Neville politely, sitting and finding himself ever so slightly still in shock. He'd thought he was done with mortal danger and worrying for his injured friends when the war ended, and suddenly here he was, faced with a damaged werewolf singing naughty songs because he'd fallen out of a tree and into an aphrodisiac. "My life is very strange," Neville informed Ian, who just smiled and tapped the teapot with his wand, setting the contents to steaming.

Healer Ian proved as deft with a cup of tea as he was with his bedside manner, and soon Neville found himself relaxing as night fell outside the windows and Remus continued his muffled serenade. Ian brushed off Neville's inquiry about getting home for dinner with an assurance that there was no one waiting, and if Neville didn't know better, he'd have thought the handsome healer was flirting with him. But he was Neville Longbottom, and even being a hero hadn't managed to get him pulled, though he did wonder if Ian had perhaps gotten a whiff of the pollen after all.

The conversation wandered, as they were wont to do, Ian explaining how he came to be the local Healer in Hogsmeade and Neville talking about their fledgling business. Neville grew animated when it came to his favourite subject, and he told Ian about many of their discoveries, though a few of the more valuable specimens he kept to himself, for now. Ian was full of anecdotes, stories of his patients and the magical mishaps they got themselves into, and between them the time seemed to fly past.

Eventually Remus fell asleep, and Ian took the muffling charm down, bringing the rest of the world back into Neville's awareness with a rush of sound. All the background noises that came with life in a bustling village were there to remind Neville that he ought to be getting home, and putting Remus in his own, tiny bed. "We should really go," said Neville, standing up and looking just as apologetic as he felt. "I can sign a draft for Gringotts for the bill if you'd like, or you can owl us."

"I'd really prefer to keep him overnight," said Ian, glancing over at Remus' restless figure. "You can stay in my guest room if you'd like, I live right next door."

Neville glanced from Remus to the packs lying forgotten beside him, then sighed. "I'd love to, but I'll need to run these things home and check on my, er, plants," he said, wondering if Stuart would insist on coming back to Ian's with him. The Eyelight liked Neville's bedroom a lot, but had grown agitated when Neville and Remus had discussed their plans for a future night time trek into the forest.

"The office has a Floo, you're welcome to use it," said Ian, smiling his charming smile.

Neville grinned and shook his head. "You've got the bedside manner thing down," he said, gathering up their belongings, "But it's wasted on me. I liked you as soon as you said you wanted to meet Stuart, Alice and Trevor."

"You'll come back?" said Ian, taking some of his burden and leading him to the fireplace.

"Yeah, I'll be back. I just want a quick shower and to make sure everyone's watered and settled in for the night," Neville said, biting his lip as he accepted the last of his things from Ian once again. He seemed to have one too many things to manage carrying and tossing powder.

Ian grabbed a handful of powder. "I'll toss, you Floo," he said amiably, throwing the sparkling stuff into the flames at Neville's grateful smile.

"Thanks," said Neville, then stepped into the flames and announced their address clearly. When he stepped out into the living room, he was surprised at how lonely the place felt with no lights, just the moon filtering in, a few days away from full.

Neville shrugged off the feeling and made quick work of resizing their samples and checking everything over, then trundled to his room to visit Stuart and get fresh clothes. He felt a little silly, worrying if his nightshirt was too unflattering, but he tossed it into a bag anyway, along with some fresh clothes for tomorrow, and a set pulled from Remus' wardrobe as well. His bath was quick by necessity but Trevor joined him anyway, and the small bit of normality was just what Neville had needed to restore his calm. Remus would be fine, their samples were fine, and Neville had quite possibly made a new friend.

All in all, he thought as he dried himself off and got ready to go back to Hogsmeade, it had been a very full day.

---

It turned out to be a good thing that Ian had kept Remus overnight, because some combination of pollen and the nicked lung and just plain bad luck turned into a nasty respiratory infection. Remus slept until midmorning and woke coughing and feverish, and Ian suddenly went from the lackadaisical, smiling friend to consummate professional, eventually declaring Remus in need of a whole regimen of healing potions and a long convalescence to allow the damaged lung tissue to heal completely before he tried any more climbing of anything, trees or mountains or even too many flights of stairs.

By late afternoon, Remus was looking better and Ian agreed to let him go home, "Provided Remus takes his potions and Neville invites me to dinner once a week so I don't have to charge for house calls." The smile was back as he said it, and Neville found himself returning it with a shy little grin of his own.

"You'll want takeout," said Remus with a wicked grin and a laugh that turned to another coughing fit.

Neville blushed, but couldn't disagree. "I've been known to bollix up tinned food," said Neville apologetically, his hand twitching with the urge to comfort Remus with a pat on the hand, or back.

Ian's eyes flickered from the hand to Neville's face, then shrugged amiably. "If you're buying, it's good enough for me," he said, closing up the small medical bag he'd stocked with a few days' worth of the potions Remus was taking to keep the infection at bay and help him breathe. The one time his dose had been a little late, his chest had rattled, and he'd gasped as though the air were thin. Neville had vowed not to be late again, if he could help it. Ian handed Neville the bag and asked, "You said you've got someone who can make up a whole month's supply?"

"Yeah, we've got some credit with a brewer who buys our ingredients," said Neville, shouldering the bag of dirty clothes. Snape's name, while no longer synonymous with the darkest of the Death Eaters, was still not exactly welcome in most polite company.

Bags and kit in hand, Neville glanced over at Remus, wondering how they'd manage the Floo journey. Ian surprised them both by leaning down and lifting Remus up like he weighed nothing more than a small child, hefting him carefully. Remus looked as though he might protest, but Ian just ignored him in favour of asking Neville, "You'll have to toss the powder this time. Flat 32, right?"

"R-right," said Neville, nervous now for no apparent reason, and just a little jealous as well, though he wasn't sure of whom or what as they trooped over to the fireplace. Neville threw the powder into the flames and watched them disappear, taking a moment to try and quell his roiling stomach before following.

"...keep your door open for circulation, even at night," Ian was saying as Neville Flooed in. Remus was currently enscon