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He apparated a little way down the lane, appearing suddenly by a large trout lake which glinted in the early autumn sunshine. A wood pigeon was cooing from a nearby hawthorn, and the long grass was fragrant with wild mint.
Neville fumbled for a moment with the handle of the gift bag, then set off along the route he knew well, alongside the lake and then over a dip in the wire fence. He could see the crowd of journalists well before he saw the house, and as he approached they spotted him too, and raced towards him. Flashes and shouts disrupted the peaceful air, and Neville determinedly ignored them as they crowded around, pushing past them as though walking through a thicket.
‘Mr Longbottom! Mr Longbottom! Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?’
‘Tell us about the baby Mr Longbottom!’
‘Did the birth go well, Mr Longbottom?’
‘What have you bought the baby, Longbottom?’
He reached the gate, and was able to lift the latch and slip through, leaving nothing but a polite smile with the journalists.
Up the flagstone path and a quick rap of the brass knocker, he just had time to admire the fleabane daisies tumbling over the window box when the door opened.
Harry beamed at him, a happily singing James wiggling on his hip.
‘Hello!’
‘The wiiings on the snitch go flutter flutter flutter-’
‘Hello, mate, how are you?’
‘Flutter flutter flutter-’
‘I’m very well, keen to meet baby number two.’
‘Come in, come in.’
‘Flutter, flutter, flutter-’
He stepped through into the familiar hallway and into the cosy living room, decorated with the many bouquets of flowers sent by well wishers. Ginny was sat on the sofa, gazing down into a moses basket at her feet.
‘Alllll match long!’
‘All right,’ Harry said gently, setting James down. ‘Do you remember, we need to use quiet voices around the baby-’
‘The bludgers on the pitch go BANG BANG BANG-’
‘James-’
‘BANG BANG BANG-’
Ginny began to rise, smiling at Neville, who hurried forward. ‘Don’t get up,’ he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. ‘How are you? This is him, is it?’
In the moses basket was a soundly sleeping baby, oblivious to the loud singing or Harry talking quietly but firmly. Perfectly smooth, round cheeks, wispy dark hair, tiny little hands held in tight fists up by his chin, as though gunning for a fight.
Neville sat beside her. ‘Merlin’s beard, he’s gorgeous,’ he said. ‘Well done, Ginny.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Well, I helped,’ said Harry, sitting on the sofa opposite and firmly holding a squirming James on his lap.
‘Thirty seconds of contribution, Harry.’
Neville laughed, and Harry grinned too, but James started trying to sing loudly again. ‘Fill the cauldron, fill the cauldron, light the fire, light the fire, bubble bubble! Bubble bubble! Fill the-’
‘I brought presents,’ said Neville, and, as he had hoped, James perked up at once, looking eagerly towards him.
The Quidditch sticker book Neville had brought for James went down very well (and promptly occupied him in focused quiet at the coffee table), the bottle of fizz much appreciated by Harry who immediately summoned some champagne flutes over, and Hannah had been absolutely right - Ginny was utterly delighted with the box of fancy tea and books. Naturally he had also gifted them a house plant too; a magical peace lily that sang softly like a harp when watered.
‘And something for the little one,’ said Neville, passing the onesie to Ginny. She unwrapped it and gasped in approval. ‘Oh, Neville, it’s so cute - the little hippogriffs, Harry, look!’
‘I can’t claim credit, Hannah chose it. She’s sorry she couldn’t be here, her next exam’s coming up.’
‘That’s quite all right, I’ll pop round when it’s over.’
‘Am I going to get to have a hold?’ Neville asked, nodding towards the baby. ‘And you haven’t even told me his name.’
‘God, haven’t we?’ chuckled Harry, as Ginny leaned down to pick up the baby. ‘This is Albus.’
Neville briefly turned to grin at him before looking back to Ginny and accepting, with careful hands, the sleeping baby. Albus squirmed slightly as he was placed in Neville’s arms, rubbing clumsily at his face with his tiny fists, but then yawned, blinked and settled back into sleep.
‘Albus,’ said Neville in a quiet but still grand voice. ‘What a name. He’d have been so touched, wouldn’t he?’
‘I think so,’ said Harry quietly. ‘Hope so.’
The three of them were silent for a few moments, the only sound was James’s quiet singing as he focused on his stickers.
‘Tell Neville his middle name, Harry,’ said Ginny suddenly, and the bright, sly, mischievousness of her voice made Neville raise an eyebrow as he looked over at his friend.
Harry had gone slightly pink, and Neville thought he looked somewhat sheepish. ‘Erm… he’s Albus Severus.’
‘Oh,’ said Neville. ‘That’s…’
‘I know,’ said Harry, apologetically, while Ginny sniggered.
‘It’s very nice…’
‘It’s all right, Nev,’ said Ginny reassuringly.
‘I know it’s a bold choice,’ said Harry, sounding rather rehearsed, ‘and I’m not denying that there were many faults, but another memorial day has come and gone and his name was not mentioned in the press even once.’
‘You know, that’s true,’ said Neville slowly. ‘I hadn’t realised.’
‘And not in that new book by Rita Skeeter either,’ said Ginny wryly, ‘though that’s probably for the best.’
‘No one else is going to remember him,’ said Harry firmly. ‘And I think he’d have been revolted if he knew, but no one else is going to do it, are they? And he does deserve to be remembered, none of us would be here if it weren’t for him.’
Neville looked back at Albus, the tiny baby with two very large names. ‘Yeah, I hear you,’ he said quietly. ‘He’d be lost to history otherwise, wouldn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry, sounding relieved. ‘I know it’s complex-’
Neville laughed darkly, which set Ginny off into laughter as well.
‘-But I owe him a huge debt.’
Neville grinned at Ginny. ‘You’re an understanding woman, Ginny.’
‘Aren’t I just? But I do get it. When I think back… he did save our necks a few times, didn’t he? Do you remember, he kept finding ways to keep us out of the way of the Carrows. I thought he was playing mind games at the time, but in hindsight…’
‘That’s true,’ said Neville. ‘I remember realising when you did that interview, Harry.’
‘And it’s just a middle name,’ said Harry hurriedly. ‘No one ever uses their middle names really.’
‘Thank goodness for that, because mine is Eugene.’
‘Stop it, you’re joking?’
‘Sadly not.’
‘Fantastic.’
‘Don’t know what my parents were thinking.’
‘There you go. How many years have we known one another? Never had a clue what your middle name was.’
‘What’s yours?’
‘James.’
‘Well that’s not fair, you got two normal ones to pick from.’
Albus woke up with a spluttered little whine, blinked, and stared at Neville with deep blue eyes. They would surely change, for neither Ginny nor Harry had blue eyes, but Neville felt he could stare into them forever. He seemed so alert, so interested - he was sure to be clever. When he raised a hand to touch his cheek, Albus grabbed his thumb and held fast.
‘He’s a lovely little thing, isn’t he?’ said Neville fondly.
‘I’m glad you think so,’ said Harry. ‘We were hoping you’d be godfather.’
Neville gaped at him. ‘You serious? Me?’
‘Of course,’ said Ginny.
‘Not… not Ron, or-’
‘Ron’s already had a go at being godfather,’ said Harry. ‘And he bought James a drumkit.’
‘And taught him to say “Tornados to the top”,’ added Ginny.
‘And feeds him endless junk at every opportunity,’ said Harry.
Neville laughed. ‘Right, trusted no longer, is he?’
‘I just feel he has had his turn,’ said Harry firmly, though he was smiling.
‘And you are important to us, Neville,’ said Ginny. ‘To us both.’
Something was stinging his eyes; he blinked rapidly and gave a strange, spluttered sort of chuckle. ‘God, yes - I’m honoured, really.’
‘Good,’ said Harry softly. ‘You’ll be a fantastic role model for him.’
‘To Godfather Neville,’ said Ginny, waving her wand so that a champagne flute floated to each of them. ‘Neville, may you provide excellent spiritual and moral guidance to our son, and buy him better gifts than Ron.’
Neville laughed, but joined in their toast to being a godfather. He felt giddy with it; here, in his arms, was a whole new life and evidence of Harry and Ginny’s trust in him. They had chosen he, Neville, to be an important part of their son’s life, to be an extra parental figure, to step in where they couldn’t.
‘Daddy,’ said James suddenly, staring at Neville and Albus. ‘Daddy, I want to hold the baby.’
‘Well, not right now, James, Neville’s-’
‘He’s my baby brother! He’s my baby! I want to hold him!’
‘Darling,’ began Ginny, ‘Baby Al is just-’
‘MUMMY I LOVE HIM AND I WANT TO HOLD HIM!’
Harry launched himself forward to grab his toddler son around the waist, preventing his clear attempt to run at Neville and Albus. ‘Come on, let’s go and calm down,’ he said as James began to scream. He tried to carry him out of the living room, but James thrashed and yelled and wriggled so much that Harry was clearly struggling to keep hold of him.
The noise caused Albus to begin to cry too; loud, hoarse sounding ‘waah’s. Ginny reached over and took him from Neville.
‘You’ll be available to babysit, yeah?’ she called over the cacophony.
‘Can’t hear you,’ Neville joked back.