Thorns
by wyomingnot
Pairing: Harry/Neville
Word Count: 491
Rating: PG
Scenario 2: Post-Hogwarts; Harry gets a bite from a pesky plant in his garden, so when he owls for a professional to come and deal with his worsening wound, Neville comes to save the day.
Note: I'm not particularly happy with this. But I spent the time starting it, it had to be finished. I like the idea, I just needed more words to do it right.
Neville Longbottom appeared in the kitchen with a small pop. He felt conspicuous enough most of the time, so he took extra effort to apparate quietly. He looked around the room and shook his head at the mess. Definitely not good - Harry was usually a fastidious housekeeper.
The sound of a television got Neville moving. He followed the noise into the living room where he found a disheveled Harry Potter lying on the sofa.
"Neville?" Harry asked, lifting his head and squinting. Neville looked around the room but didn't see Harry's glasses. What he did see when he looked back at Harry was as bad as he feared. Harry's hand and arm were severely swollen and discolored, almost black along the many deep scratches running from fingers to elbow.
"How many times have I told you to stay clear of the roses?" Neville gently admonished as he crossed the room to sit down on the floor in front of Harry. He set down the bag he was carrying and picked up Harry's arm, inspecting the injuries. "Can't leave you alone for three days..."
"Three days! It's been three months, Neville." Harry tried to pull his arm back, but Neville held tight as he started pulling small thorns out of Harry's skin. "Why are you here, anyway? I mean, I'm glad you are... Ow! But..."
Neville paused and looked up. "You didn't send Hedwig?"
"Hedwig? What?" Harry's confusion showed clearly.
"Hedwig showed up at Gran's a little bit ago. She wasn't carrying a message, just one of these thorns." Neville held up a thorn he had extracted. "I didn't recognize it at first, but Hedwig kept pecking at me, even after I gave her some food. She put the thorn back in my hand." He paused while he checked the arm over, and satisfied all the thorns were gone, he proceeded to clean the wounds. "I looked at it more closely and identified it - the stinging roses in the garden here. I asked Hedwig if you were okay and she started flapping about. So I grabbed some supplies and apparated straight here."
"Bloody bird thinks she's Lassie," Harry grumbled.
"Huh? Who's Lassie?" Neville asked.
"Oh, sorry. Stupid show on the telly. Lassie's a dog and every week she would save her stupid master by running for help. Like I needed help for a couple of little scratches."
Neville raised an eyebrow at the phrase 'stupid master'. "You're very lucky, you know. Left untreated, those 'little scratches' are potentially fatal." He dug through his bag and pulled out a small bottle. He uncorked it and handed it to Harry. "Drink this. It will take care of the poison in your system."
Harry drank while Neville closed his bag and stood up.
"I'll take care of the roses before I go."
"Please don't go," Harry pleaded. "Not again."
Neville shook his head. "I can't stay, Harry. I'm sorry."
He turned and left.
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