tampered | Log; Ongoing

When; September 25; evening
Rating; G
Characters; Evey

ever_evey, Neville

snake_slayer
Summary; Have an underground greenhouse full of sick plants? Who better to call than Neville Longbottom?
Log;

Evey waited near the entrance to the Underground, a torch in hand and her Glock within easy reach. There was something about the curse's darkness that bothered her--whether it was the remnants of the old childhood fear, memories of another curse day a year ago when what V called 'the horrors' roamed the streets, or the fact that this festival had been perfectly enjoyable last year without the sun's absence, she wasn't sure.

In any case, she wasn't about to be caught off-guard while she waited for the boy she'd spoken with on the Interlink. Neville, he'd said his name was--it was a bit amusingly old-fashioned sounding, like it'd be more likely belong to someone's grandfather. He'd seemed all right, from their brief conversation, if a bit hesitant.

On the off-chance that he wasn't quite as nice as he'd seemed...well, she was a proficient shot after a year of practice. Every few minutes, Evey passed the beam of the torch over the road in front of her, waiting for the boy to appear.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Neville walked towards the Underground, still wearing his business suit and tie from work that day. He was nervous; why shouldn't he be? The sun had inexplicably decided not to rise that day, and he was heading towards the Underground, a dangerous place no matter what time of day it happened to be.

But it was for a good cause; plants could be in danger. And he felt responsible, after offering up his services a few weeks ago to the Network in the areas of herbology and botany. He could only hope he wasn't walking into some sort of trap. He held his wand up, blue light shining from it, and he kept walking, pulling anxiously at his sleeves.

How much did he know about this Evey person, anyway? Sure, she seemed nice, but in this place, who could tell? But then...Where would he be if he couldn't learn to give strangers the benefit of the doubt?

Neville paused at the entrance of the Underground, stopping and looking around, his shadow etching diagonally against the wall he stood in front of.

The light from her torch hit on a well-dressed young man heading towards the Underground--directly the opposite of most of the other people out, who were flocking to the evening's festivities with great fervor. The kimono Evey had worn to it last year was destroyed half a year ago, and though more than a few other citizens heading that way were dressed in Western clothing, she would have felt a bit out of place in her trousers and blouse.

"Are you Neville?" she asked, when he'd approached close enough that she wouldn't have to shout. Speaking of out of place, his suit! She hadn't realized he worked somewhere that required such nice clothing. Should've suggested he change before coming out--just because V could run through the tunnels without mussing his wig doesn't mean this kid can... It was too late now, though; hopefully it wasn't too dirty down there right now.

He glanced up suddenly, holding his wand up, brow furrowed in worry and anticipation. He saw a young woman coming towards him...she looked nice enough, didn't have any visible weapons on her, wasn't angry, and wasn't cackling maniacally. So far, so good.

"Y-eess.." he began, stumbling a little over the beginning of the word. He was starting to feel out of place: perhaps he should have changed before he came here? Well...That was what cleaning spells were for.

"You're Evey?" Well, obviously, if she knew his name. "Sorry.." And already he was apologizing. He could've kicked himself.

"I am--oh! You're from the same world as Severus?" Evey asked, nodding her head at his wand. He seemed rather nervous, so she put on a friendly smile and added, "I really appreciate your help. I do best with the sorts of plants with silk leaves and petals, unfortunately."

As she spoke, she indicated that he should follow her down the steps and out onto the platform, where the electric lights, thankfully, were still working. The tunnels, however, were as dark as always, and she left her torch on, leading him to the very end of the platform, near the mouth of one of the tunnel openings. "We've got to wait for the train to pass," she explained, gesturing vaguely with the torch. "That should be in just a few minutes. Then we jump down this way, and--well, I'll show you. I promise we won't be hit by another train." This last thought was accompanied with a wry grin--if he'd seemed a bit offput just by meeting her, there was a very good chance that he might be regretting his offer to help otu.

Neville balked at the mention of his least-favorite potions teacher. He hadn't thought Snape had risen to such a level of infamy in the city to be referred to by his first name by pretty women. Clearly he'd underestimated him.

"Er...that's right, Professor Snape lives next door to me.." And oh how he wished he didn't.

He followed Evey down into the Underground, pausing at the trains, looking uncertain at the tunnels. This seemed rather...unsafe.

"I hope not...I've never been this far down in the City." he admitted shyly.

"He's been here and back to his home quite a few times," Evey answered, taking no note of Neville's dislike for the man. "He's a professor of yours? At...Hogwarts?"

As they waited for the train to arrive and pass them by, she ran a hand over her scalp, an idle habit she'd picked up the last time her hair had begun to grow back. When it came, it paused long enough for a handful of people to either get off or on before roaring back into the darkness.

"All right. Here we go--oh, and don't touch that rail when we cross over the tracks." She pointed to one before stepping over it as easily as if it were a crack in the pavement. "It gets quite dark, but it's been a long time since anything lurked in these tunnels regularly, so you needn't worry."

Keeping close to the wall, she led him down through the tunnels a short distance, made somewhat more complicated by a few twists and turns. At a stretch of wall that looked hardly different from the rest of the tunnel, she paused and unlocked the hidden door. It opened into the great room of her old home, looking for all the world like an abandoned museum of V's various finds; paintings, books, posters, and statues crowded the room, along with the usual furniture one might find in a living room. Evey ushered Neville in and locked the door again behind them, pausing a moment while she did so, eyes closed, to picture her erstwhile husband in her mind.

"He...used to be." Neville didn't speak of Snape's untimely flight from the school the night Voldemort attacked. "He...retired." Sort of.

"How often do the trains go by?" he asked as he walked with Evey through the tunnels. As the two arrived at Evey's home, hee paused, staring inside at the display of...memorabilia? Culture? He settled on 'objects'.

"You live here?" His tone was one of astonishment.

The tone of Neville's voice brought a smile to her face--the same kind of surprise she'd felt when she'd first seen the true Shadow Gallery in London. V's collections had that sort of effect on a person.

"I used to," Evey corrected, coming to stand next to him for a moment to look at the items adorning the room. "...My husband was something of a packrat--you should've seen where he lived back home.

"They're his flowers we'll be looking at," she continued, beginning to walk again, slowly enough that they could both have a good look at her old home. Through the great room, past the kitchen, past the closed bedroom doors, and to the combination greenhouse and study. An old wooden desk sat among the rows of plants: several varieties of roses, lilies, violets, and daisies, among others. "I never thought to ask how to take care of them while he was still here, I'm afraid."

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