HP: Spirit Talker

POV Neville Longbottom

It wasn't until he was in this manor that Neville finally realized why his grandmother had sighed when she said that magic was "rotting" in Britain. No, he wasn't complaining about his overly demanding grandmother, who often went overboard in many ways, but who else would take care of him?

Yes, it was difficult for him as a child, it was hard to withstand the steely character of an old woman, but she taught her grandson a lot. His grandmother had laughed at the "modern, exquisite wrought-iron gates" of mansions and mansions, explaining to her grandson that in the old days, in better times, the gates were made of stone — they held magical structures better and longer.

Though, the woman added, a gate made of solid wood was only slightly worse, and only temporarily, because it could be "grown," that is, made stronger and better over time, but it was hard work, and it had not been done in Britain for a long time.

Augusta Longbottom had also taken care of the guard golems, and Neville knew they were very different. In the old days, golems had been bought in the Middle East, but then, because of politics, that market had been effectively closed to Europe, and the Americans and French had taken over.

Not many people trust the new Yankee models, because "there were cases", but the French are steadily saturating the market, but the prices are too high, so security golems are rare and expensive. It seems that there are still masters in Russia, — from there come steel golems, but cases of buying this product is very rare. All because of the same politics.

His grandmother had told him a lot about the defenses of the magical house, and Neville had been thinking about them, trying to figure out what kind of "pretty shrubs" Sora would plant, so he was stunned by the sight of the unusual girl. He even thought it was Sora's wife, since she was very distinctive in the way she talked to him, and he had read about the Japanese and their traditions about family and marriage in a book his grandmother had sent him from the family library.

Neville just wanted to make sense of the strange, sometimes incomprehensible behavior of a boy who was at ease in the life of his faculty, who was attentive and caring to many around him. And he did it in a casual way, as if he did not notice how his simple participation, the right words, subtly changed something in the school. But the book didn't help, it confused him even more.

But none of that mattered now, because it had been a long time since the last time the fairies had been seen in Britain [Neville hadn't noticed some of the creatures and spirits on Samhain, having given himself over to the euphoria of the holiday and the powerful magic], so he watched as two giggling girls with lettuce hair sprinkled fabulously expensive pollen over the head of a mere servant.

Neville had heard from his grandmother that this pollen was only available twice a year at an auction in Geneva, and that it was used to brew some amazing rejuvenation potions. The boy's mind tried to imagine the cost of the pollen that had practically turned the girl's brown hair to gold, but he couldn't.

The boy decided that as a true Gryffindor, he should be able to handle himself in the most unexpected situations, but the sight of a practically naked Fae was a heavy blow to the boy's mind. It seemed he had been given some sort of potion that made him lazy to think for a while longer, and he stopped wondering at all when he looked at the numerous patterns on the furniture, the glass of the huge windows, and even some of the walls and ceilings, all made by the same pollen.

A few hours later, Neville found himself in the company of a cheerful old woman and several other girls and women, as well as the only man, Xenophilius Lovegood, who was being stared at by a beautiful young woman with brown hair. Only her strange smile, which seemed to creep onto her face all by itself, gave the boy goosebumps.

The man didn't seem to notice, as he listened to the legend of the "legendary tanuki who could turn into a mountain". Who the "tanuki" were, the man never quite understood, but the legend was interesting.

Neville didn't know where the landlord had been all this time, but Sora didn't show up until seven in the evening, and the two of them went straight to The Burrow. To be honest, Neville had wanted to roam Paris without his grandmother's watchful eye, but now he wouldn't mind staying in this warm house, whose walls seemed to radiate a cheerful friendliness, just like that noisy "maid" Momo.