A Memorable Tale

66 | Christmas

When I met Neville at the entrance of the school, he looked less chipper than he did when he invited me in the first place. I chewed my lip for a moment before saying, "If you've changed your mind, I don't mind just going home..."

"No, no, I haven't changed my mind," he assured, a smile appearing on his face. "No, I was just thinking about how my family would treat you."

"Are they... not great people or something?"

"Nothing like that. They're just... embarrassing."

"I'm sure that's not true."

When we first arrived to King Cross Station, we were immediately waved down by an old woman with a familiar description of a hat with a stuffed vulture on it and a red handbag. "Ah, there you two are!"

From the way Neville described her, I was expecting a cold, strict woman, but she appeared very warm and homely when she greeted us... or me, at least.

She pulled me into a hug and my brows raised, glancing at Neville, who looked thoroughly embarrassed, his cheeks crimson.

"I've heard so much about you," she said. "I'm Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother. He tells me you are a very bright and powerful young woman!"

The advice Lisa and Morag gave me rang in my head, since they seemed to be the only trustworthy people with this friendship.

Smile.

Stand up straight.

Compliment when you can.

Be humble.

"Oh, I'm not all that," I assured. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Longbottom. Neville's said loads about you."

Given, most of those things talked about how scared he was of his grandmother, but I didn't mention that part.

She placed her hand on my back and guided me out of the station, while Neville bound after us, trying to hide his flushed face.

•••

Neville's house was quaint, much smaller than mine of course, but definitely more homey.

Within, there was nobody else living with them, but evidence of people who once walked the halls in photos that hung on the walls.

I tried not to let my curiosity get the best of me as I was guided to the living room. Remnants of Neville were scattered about the house, from baby photos he tried to overturn before I spotted them and plants that were better taken care of than just about everything I owned.

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Neville's grandmother asked. "Oh, or rather coffee, I presume?"

"Oh, I... Thank you."

As she retreated to the kitchen, my head snapped to Neville. "Exactly how much have you told her about me?"

"...Some stuff."

"How does me liking coffee even come up in a conversation?" I added in an even lower voice, "And the way you were talking made it seem like more than you and your gran lived here."

"Oh, my other relatives are coming later. We spend the days before Christmas together."

"And Christmas Day?"

His grin faltered, but it came right back when his grandmother walked back in with three mugs, two with tea and one with coffee. "You're like my husband, with your coffee and your books and your animals."

"I get it from my own parents," I answered, trying to make conversation.

"Ah, yes, Caelum and Evelyn."