By the time Neville actually laid eyes on The Seventy-Two Forms of the Shushan Sword Manual, it was already the third day.
That morning, the patch of grass where Alice usually practiced her sword forms was absolutely packed. Word had exploded across Hogwarts that a witch had ditched magic entirely and started training with a sword. Basically the whole school showed up to gawk.
Gryffindors, Slytherins; pretty much every house was represented.
Right now Alice was staring down Millicent Bulstrode, who kept her head bowed and refused to speak. Alice pressed her lips together, trying to figure out what to even say.
Millicent had been an absolute idiot about this whole thing.
Pansy glanced between an obviously irritated Alice and a very sheepish Millicent. Remembering how Millicent had stuck up for her before, she swallowed hard and stepped forward.
"Um… Alice?"
Alice's eyebrow shot up. She fixed Pansy with a look that said go on, this ought to be good.
Pansy opened her mouth, closed it, then just went for it. "Millie didn't mean to blab that Neville was taking sword lessons from you. You know how she is; she just loves bragging about stuff she knows."
Yeah, Alice knew exactly how Millicent was. She'd gotten plenty of useful gossip out of that exact habit herself.
So… was this just karma for using her roommate?
As if!
Alice watched Pansy's head droop lower the longer she stayed silent, then asked with a sweet little smile, "Pansy, tell me something. How exactly did Millicent find out Neville was learning swordsmanship from me?"
"…I told her," Pansy mumbled after a few seconds of painful silence.
Alice actually laughed; more of an incredulous huff than anything. "Perfect. Then you don't get to defend her. Both of you; go stand over there and think about what you've done."
It wasn't that Alice cared if people knew Neville was training with her; she honestly didn't. But the other person involved was Neville, and she figured she should at least respect whether he wanted the whole school knowing his business.
More than that, though, she hated the idea of Millicent treating something connected to her as juicy gossip to show off.
Deep down Alice knew Millicent only bragged because she was proud to be roommates with someone as "cool" as Alice. Still; girl needed to learn a lesson.
Neville stood awkwardly beside Alice, watching the crowd grow bigger by the second. His hands were literally shaking around the wooden practice sword.
See? Alice thought. Told you he wouldn't want this kind of audience.
"Mr. Longbottom?" she asked gently. "Want to call it a day and try again some other time?"
Neville's face went scarlet. "Just Neville is fine, Professor Alice." He took a shaky breath. "And… I think we should do it now. I can handle it. The stuff I'll have to face later won't go easy on me just because I'm nervous."
Well, well.
Alice raised an eyebrow. That didn't sound like the timid Neville everyone talked about. Maybe she'd misjudged him.
"First, I apologize for my roommate and Pansy being reckless busybodies," she said loudly enough for the front row to hear. "And second; one day you're going to thank yourself for not backing down today."
With that, she handed Neville the sword manual.
Neville stared at the cover, completely lost. The characters looked like chicken scratch to him.
"Uh… what language is this?"
"Chinese 101," Alice said cheerfully. "Chinese. My grandfather on my mom's side was from China. His sword style comes from a place called Shushan; this book is his personal manual: The Seventy-Two Forms of the Shushan Sword."
Neville stumbled through pronouncing the title, then asked the obvious question. "How am I supposed to study it if I can't even read the words?"
Alice's grin turned downright evil as she pulled out a stack of about fifteen beginner Chinese textbooks and dictionaries.
Neville suddenly decided the crowd wasn't so scary anymore.
He gulped. He'd never exactly been top of the class…
Alice noticed the slump in his shoulders and softened a little. "Relax. You don't actually have to master the writing yet. My grandfather had a rule: only people who meet his standards get taught the real forms."
Someone in the crowd who could read lips repeated that last part loud enough for everyone to hear, and the whispering kicked into overdrive.
"Please; some Muggle sword style? Neville might be a pure-blood disaster, but him wanting to learn should be an honor for that dumb book."
"Yeah, Shushan? Never even heard of it. Probably some backwater village."
Someone else fired back, "Alice is terrifyingly good with that thing and you're still running your mouths? Some pure-blood supremacists never learn."
"Oh look, another kid brainwashed by Theodore Nott's nonsense. Pure-bloods are the future, Burns; pick the right side."
From the Gryffindor side there was plenty of muttering too; most of them couldn't believe Neville was bothering with "Muggle fighting" at all.
Hermione had heard enough. She stepped forward and raised her voice. "Alice's grandfather used this exact style to take down an entire twenty-man elite hit squad armed with guns that were sent to kill him and the team he was leading."
"Guns?" one pure-blood scoffed. "Muggle guns are basically fire-stirring sticks to a wizard."
The second the words left his mouth, every single Muggle-born and half-blood within five yards took a giant step away from him.
They'd seen guns. Maybe a single bullet wouldn't take down Dumbledore, but it would absolutely ruin their day.
So yeah; the crowd instantly understood that Alice's grandfather was operating on a whole different level.
If the guy could dodge twenty guns, dodging spells was probably child's play.
The idiot who'd opened his mouth tried to save face. "Who says Alice isn't making it up?"
When no one backed him up, he awkwardly sidled over to a half-blood kid and muttered, "Guns are really that bad?"
"If twenty of them are pointed at you, we'll be scraping what's left of you and your wand off the grass with a spatula."
"…You're kidding."
"Want me to go get twenty guns and we'll find out?"
"Nah, I'm good; look! Alice is starting Neville's test!"
The crowd leaned in like they were waiting for the Quidditch World Cup to kick off.