"I had to come," she said simply. "You were the only one I could think of who might help.”
Emily Longbottom was clearly none the wiser. Narcissa handed her a piece of paper: the front page proof from the next Sunday Prophet, most of which was occupied by a rather blurry photograph of two figures on a palm fringed beach, apparently engaged in re-enacting the surf scene in From Here To Eternity. Unlike the subjects of most wizard photographs they were not waving back at the viewer, and, indeed appeared completely unaware that they were being photographed. The indistinct nature of the shot hinted strongly that it had been taken by a concealed camera, although the two were sufficiently absorbed in each other that they might not have noticed a squad of dragons playing Quidditch in their immediate vicinity, either.
Mrs Longbottom inhaled sharply and put her hand on her heart.
"Well, I'll - I'll go to our house," she spluttered eventually. "It's our Neville. And he's kissing a - a man -"
"No shit, Sherlock," Narcissa muttered in possibly pardonable exasperation. The older woman's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not having language in my living room, young lady.”
She glared momentarily at her, and then back to the photograph; back again at Narcissa and then back down at the laughing blond boy in the surf. There was the sound of Knuts audibly dropping.
"That wouldn't be - it wouldn't happen to be your son, would it?" Narcissa nodded, wordlessly. Mrs Longbottom bent her beady gaze back to the page proof.
"I just don't believe it," she hissed.
Narcissa nodded sympathetically.
"I know: that's just what I thought."
“I don't mean that." She paused. "I mean, I've been telling Neville to throw out those swimming trunks for the past two years and now they're all over the newspapers.”
Narcissa bent over the photograph again and studied it closely for some seconds.
"Mm. Well I'd bet serious money that Draco will have endorsed your recommendation by now."
Mrs Longbottom's eyes narrowed.
"Are you criticising our Neville's dress sense?"
"No. I'm merely commenting on Draco's tendency to regard relationships as home improvement projects." Her lip quivered for a moment. "He gets it from his father."
Excerpt from Lust Over Pendle by AJ Hall
