This will probably be the only crossover story in this collection. Very short.
JK Rowling still owns the HP world.
Whedon owns Faith and all elements from her world.
This is a present for Joyful who keeps me writing, is a wonderful friend and who loves the highly unlikely pairing of Faith and Neville. I hope she likes it.
Neville Longbottom was the twitchy sort of Gryffindor. He wasn’t heroic and stalwart like Harry Potter who practically radiated good-natured bravery. Neville wasn’t hot-headed like Ron who seemed to get off on fighting. He wasn’t the genius sort of Gryffindor like Hermione Granger who was practically a walking encyclopedia and not afraid to show it. He wasn’t a sodding sex god like Seamus Finnigan who it seemed had slept with everything that had two legs and there were rumors that the Irish boy had gotten to a few of the lake’s mermaids too.
No, Neville was just Neville. He was loyal to his friends, he was scared shitless of Professor Snape, excelled in Herbology, came from a deeply loving family save for the deep undertone of sadness that his every day seemed to be filled with. Neville wasn’t really remarkable in any way except for the fact that he had the innate ability to be in the *right* places at the *right* times for extraordinary things to happen to him.
He was walking along to Greenhouse six and thinking of his utter normality when a girl fell on him from the sky. She was smaller than him, but then again that wasn’t hard especially since his body had started turning into hard mass when he turned fourteen. That was the first impression he had gotten of her, her smallness and long dark hair that covered the both of them as she landed on him with a loud “Fuck!”
That automatically eliminated the whole of Hufflepuff house, they hadn’t been heard to curse since Diggory’s death when a distraught yellow and black clad boy had uttered the words “fucking death-eaters” at his funeral only to be amen-ed by the rest of his loyal and hard-working brethren.
Neville opened his eyes only to be confronted with the sight of a spitting mad brunette girl about his age who sat straddling him. Her light brown eyes were wholly unfamiliar and the more surprising thing was the fact that she kept on sitting on him as she raged at some unknown point in the sky. She had raised her fist threateningly at the innocuous white clouds and was now shouting “just you wait until I get ahold of you fucker! You’re going to wish that B was here Whistler! I’ll rip your arms off and shove them so far up your ass you’ll be able to tickle your tonsils from the inside-out! I’ll rip your spine out and wear it as a belt! I’m going to use your worthless hide for a new winter coat!”
Neville shuddered at the onslaught of disturbing imagery that her ranting brought to mind. He gave a subtle cough and cringed when she glared at him “What?!” she snapped out.
“Um,” Neville tried to be as delicate as possible given the distinct possibility that she was mentally unstable, “you landed on me.” He gave her an encouraging smile.
She glared at him harder “so what yo?”
“Well,” Neville had now become aware of several things. One, his spine was feeling the effects of having another person- no matter how small, land on him. Two, she was sitting precariously close to his privates and her wriggling around was having a very interesting effect on that area. He was
fourteen after all. And three, he could see Seamus and Harry staring at him strangely out of the corner of his eye. He could also see Hermione’s bushy haired form running towards the castle, probably to get Dumbledore or somebody of the sort.
“You’re still sitting on me,” he finished lamely and flinched when the brunette bared her teeth at him. She got off him though and strangely enough, she began examining her own body. Neville scrambled to his feet, somewhat more clumsily than the fast-moving girl that had been sitting on him not two moments earlier and tried to look like he wasn’t desperately interested in tracking her movements. She was clad in a black t-shirt of the sort that the muggle-born students had taken to wearing around the castle, a pair of tight trousers that made Neville blush even deeper and some black lace-up boots.
His blush was positively fiery now. The brunette girl was staring despondently inside her shirt, she seemed intent on examining her chest
area. “This fucking sucks donkey ass! They had to take my tits away…” she moaned. She lifted her head to meet Neville’s bright crimson face, “how old are you?”
“Fourteen,” he croaked out.
The brunette scowled and went back to staring at her chest, she looked deep in thought “well, based on the size of the teenage cleavage over here- I’d say I’m about the same age.” She raised a fist to the sky “you better
be retired by the time I die in this dimension Whistler! You know
how long I can hold a grudge!”
She huffed and began looking around her with ever-more increasing interest. She turned to Neville “magic castle?”
“Um,” he cleared his throat “yes?”
She grinned and he blushed for what seemed to be the twentieth time that he had done so since she had literally dropped into his lap. “Don’t worry yo, I got the full debriefing before agreeing to the whole new-life shtick,” she raised her gaze to the sky and shouted “but I was never told about the whole going through puberty thing again!”
Neville took a step back. Just in case. Gryffindor or not, but shouting crazy persons were best avoided until one knew the exact nature of their insanity.
She raised an eyebrow at his shuffling, “don’t worry kid, I’m sane.” She winked “mostly.”
“Ha,” Neville gave a weak laugh. And now the highly crazy girl that fell out of the sky was calling him kid, how utterly humiliating.
She turned to him and crossed her arms in front of her much maligned chest, “so where’s this Dumb-as-a-door dude I got to talk to? I have a letter from some chick named Ariana,” she frowned “nice girl. Pretty crazy though.”
Neville swallowed and leaned around her to see the white-bearded figure of the headmaster hurrying down the slope. “He’s coming,” he mentioned.
“Cool beans,” the girl bounced. She began tapping her foot in place, “so what’s fun to do around here?”
“Uh,” Neville tried thinking of something. Anything to say. What came out was so deeply embarrassing that he promptly wished he had stayed silent “I like messing around with the plants.” Oh Merlin.
She stared at him weirdly.
Neville wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole, he wished for the sun to stop shining and the Giant Squid to flop it’s giant body out of the lake. Anything to distract from the fact that he basically called himself a plant pervert.
“Well,” the girl said as she stared at him, “to each their own I guess?”
“Hah,” Neville gave out another weak chuckle “I was just joking before,” he tried rectifying the situation. By the disbelieving look on her face, he had probably just solidified his position as a weirdo and a kinky one to boot. Why couldn’t he be smooth like Seamus? Or at least quietly mysterious like Dean or Harry? Damn it, he would just settle for being funny and snarky like Ron.
The headmaster had now reached them and Neville gave out a loud sigh of relief at Dumbledore’s arrival. Let him now deal with the strange girl still giving him weird looks.
Dumbledore gave his hand to the girl with the familiar twinkle in his eye and that damned loony smile on his face “good morning my dear, I’ve been hearing strange rumors about a young girl dropping out of the sky.” The twinkle was now almost a sparkle “would that be you?”
The girl grinned “that’s me, always gotta make a big entrance.” She moved to Dumbledore’s side, “we need to talk Dumbles.” She then roped her arm through the aged wizard’s elbow and began propelling him to the castle. She stopped though and turned back to Neville and shouted “I’m Faith by the way!”
Neville who had just been watching her leave with a slightly sinking feeling, smiled at that. He leaned forward and yelled back “Neville!”
Faith grinned and gave him a thumbs up “I’ll see you soon Nev!” She then began pulling Dumbledore back towards the castle. Neville grinned as he saw the headmaster give her a fairly disgruntled look, she was certainly enthusiastic if slightly scary in an insane way.
Dean had ambled up to him and poked his ribs “who was she?”
Neville glanced at his fellow Gryffindor and friend “that was Faith.”
“Who’s Faith?” Dean frowned. “And did she really fall out of the sky?”
Neville had never been particularly mysterious but he had always been good at keeping things that mattered close to his chest. He looked at Dean who was still staring at Faith’s retreating back, he glanced over at Harry who was having a furious whispered conversation with Hermione who was still wheezing a little from her run. And Neville said nothing. He just smiled at his gobsmacked friends, picked up his bag that had fallen away during the whole collapsing under a cursing teenage girl thing and he began his trek back to the greenhouses. Neville may not have been very special in his group of friends, but he knew what it meant to have priorities- and the greenhouses were the first priority right now.