16

r 16

The summer had been quite kind to Neville. His grandmother's strict attitude had lessened considerably since he began working closely with Dumbledore in his second year. Augusta expected him to live up to the bravery and outgoing nature of his father especially since his father's story was practically carved into granite and inlaid with gold since the sacrifice his parents made for him during the first Wizarding War, Neville thought to himself bitterly. But, he continued his thoughts with a much more contemplative air, starting his own resistance group at school and teaching students older than himself defensive magic really seemed to make his grandmother take notice. She had told him weekly how proud of him she was and she couldn't be happier. The unstated demand that he do more was always there though, hovering just outside of the conversation but just as present as a ghost during the Hogwarts feasts.

Neville was sitting at the table in the dining room as he usually did to eat his breakfast. His grandmother's house elves were always quick to get him his meals and clear the mess once he was done. They would also sneak him extra sweets without informing his grandmother since he was kind to them. He appreciated the gesture, wondering if his mother was actually able to be with him if she would dote on him like the elves sometimes did.

Augusta walked into the dining room with a brisk gait that sent the House Elves scurrying out of her way. "Neville," she greeted him curtly, conversation was always business with his grandmother, "I received another letter from Dumbledore."

"Another one Grandmother?" Neville asked once he swallowed his mouth full of food. His hands bringing the cloth on his lap to his lips to clean his lips before he gave her his full attention.

"Yes. It appears he wishes to meet with you this afternoon," She informed him as she placed her bowl, now full of fruits in front of herself and speared a strawberry on her fork before she looked intently at her grandson. "Any idea what for?" She continued before taking a bite of the berry.

"None, to be honest." Neville spoke after thinking for a moment as he tapped his cheek with his right index finger. Dumbledore was always an enigma so trying to puzzle out his reasons was nearly impossible. Augusta likely had a better chance to figure out the ancient man's reasons than he. "Last time I spoke to him he said he was going to be gone for a few months during the summer," Neville offered before he shrugged off the odd request from Dumbledore.

"Gone?" She asked as she chewed on the berry that was coating her tongue with sweetness. "Gone where?" Augusta asked no one as she ruminated on the information. "You'd think he'd be working on getting his position as Chief Warlock reinstated, rather than gallivanting off to who-knows-where." She muttered with a detectable hint of venom. Dumbledore's removal had certainly changed the balance of power in the Wizengamot, and not for the better.

"He didn't say anything to me. Professor McGonagall mentioned during our extra lessons she received a letter from him and 'found the weather distasteful in Louisiana'. She mentioned that at the end of the school year," Neville replied as he recalled the odd conversation from months ago.

"Louisiana? Where is that?" Asked Augusta as she set her fork down and focused on her grandson more earnestly.

"It's a state in America. Down along the Gulf I believe," Neville answered quickly. He had looked it up the day McGonagall mentioned it. Neville found he didn't like to look like a fool and would rather have the information than perpetuate the 'I have no idea' shrug.

"Ah. I have heard those southern States are awful in the summer," She sat in quiet thought for a moment. "What would he be doing there?"

Neville only offered a noncommittal hum. Not only was his grandmother not looking for an answer, he didn't have one to give. The only reason he had any information at all was because Professor McGonagall mentioned the comment after a rather difficult training that left him both frustrated with his lack of progress before remembering who she was with. He hated being kept in the dark about what was actually happening with Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and the Wizarding World as a whole, but he could also begrudgingly understand it as well. He was only fourteen years old after all. He needed more time to grow and learn before he was ready to actually do anything more than just training and building the confidence of a small resistant group. A group of children, Neville scoffed internally, what a joke.

"You have some time until Dumbledore is expected to be here," She informed him while the elves worked to clean the table. "I'll send one of the House Elves to fetch you when he arrives."

"Thank you Grandmother," said Neville as she excused herself and stood up from the table. Neville smiled at her, which she returned, before taking his leave from breakfast. He quickly made his way to his room, hoping to open the letters from his friends before Dumbledore arrived to meet with him.

There was a small stack of letters sitting on his desk that had been delivered by the House Elves during breakfast, but the package from Hermione was what caught his eye. They spoke often enough to be considered acquaintances, but not nearly enough to be friends. He was intrigued to find out what a package from someone so utilitarian would contain.

The letter Hermione sent with the package was as concise as she was. Apparently her parents had bought her muggle school supplies and she knew that they would only cause her problems with some of the new rules Headmistress Umbridge had instated. She had remembered Nevile expressing interest in learning more about the muggle way of things and had sent the school supplies to him to have rather than throw them away.

Nevile smiled despite his confusion with the Muggleborn Ravenclaw. As little as he actually knew Hermione or her way of being a friend, he couldn't help but be happy to receive her package. He quickly tore open the package and found many strange looking supplies. He would need to wait to really dive into the package Hermione sent and her intentions. It didn't take him long to read through his letters. Most of them were just well wishes for the summer and a couple were excited to pick up Potter's Army once the school year started. He wasn't sure about continuing their little group meetings with Professor Umbridge breathing down their necks, but Neville had the feeling that the decision was out of his hands.

An old female House Elf scurried into Neville's room as soon as he set down his last letter. "Master Neville," She wheezed pitifully, "Master Dumbledore is waiting in the sitting room," she finished with a bow, her ears drooping forward hanging on either side of her face.

"Thank you," Neville replied before carefully hurrying by the House Elf and briskly walked through the manor hallways and back downstairs.

Neville found Dumbledore was occupying a chair in his grandmother's sitting room, looking as regal as he ever did, if a bit eccentric in the teal robes with… were those merfolk? Neville shook his head free of that line of thinking as Dumbledore motioned for Neville to sit on the couch opposite of him with a smooth movement of his hand.

"Hello. Neville. It's wonderful to see you again young man," Dumbledore spoke softly once Neville sat down. A slight twinkle in his eye.

"Good morning Headmaster. How are you doing today?" Neville spoke as properly as he could. Merlin only knew what kind of meeting this would turn into.

Dumbledore smiled in a way that was quite similar to the way Luna smiled. How he imagined an old Seer to smile. Or perhaps a seasoned spy. Or a person backwards on their broomstick, Neville thought again as he noticed the merfolk swim around his robes.

"I am well, my boy," Dumbledore replied as Neville sat down across from him. "I actually just arrived back in the country."

"You were gone for some time. Did you have any luck in your search?" Neville asked tentatively. Dumbledore told him many things without actually telling him anything, so Neville was ready to try to squeeze everything he could from the Headmaster's words to get any information from the old man that he could.

Dumbledore smiled sweetly at him. "Not as much as I wished. I was able to pick up Harry's trail using an object I obtained from Lily's rather unsavory sister, but it was far from easy to follow," Dumbledore sighed unhappily as he took the cup of tea one of the House Elves brought in.

"They managed to evade you?" The idea of someone evading Dumbledore seemed impossible. But, Neville reasoned, since the attacks on students a few years ago the world seemed to have changed.

"The trail was faint and at times even seemingly obscured. I had attempted, many times, to get information from the locals. That was, unfortunately, beyond my capabilities." Dumbledore sipped his tea regally despite the blow of admitting that he had failed to interrogate anyone.

"They gave you that much trouble?" Neville asked in wonder as he reached for his own cup of tea from the tray.

"Trouble? No dear boy. They did however make it very clear they were not going to help," Dumbledore chuckled to himself as he remembered a conversation in particular. "The Canadian Natives were...less than hospitable."

"Well, I am pleased that you have returned without injury Professor," Neville said before sipping his tea as he thought about what Dumbledore wasn't saying.

"As am I," Dumbledore set down his now empty teacup. "But now that I am here, I must ask you how the training of your peers is progressing."

His peers. Spoken like he wasn't a fourth year desperate for a normal life. Like Neville wasn't teaching students three and four years his senior. Like he wasn't taking advanced classes with the professors at Hogwarts.

"It's going about as well as it can with," Neville paused and forcefully continued the title that he knew she had no claim upon, "Headmistress Umbridge causing so many problems."

"Yes," Dumbledore said gravely as he looked out the window for a moment and his visage hardened just for a moment. "I have been kept updated on her reign of tyranny during my travels," Dumbledore sighed as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before placing them back on his face. "The unfortunate truth is that she is merely a symptom of the true problem that lives deep within our society."

"Blood Purity," Neville muttered, for a moment hating that he was born on the side that would unjustly be pandered to just because of his ancestry.

"Prejudice and greed would be more accurate," Dumbledore corrected. "These beliefs have been allowed to flourish since they had become synonymous with the idea of Blood Purity put forth by Salazar Slytherin," Dumbledore motioned vaguely. "It could also be argued that the Dark Lord Voldemort himself is merely a symptom of the very same problem."

"Is that what we're fighting against then? Our society?" Neville asked incredulously as he put his empty cup on the tray and leaned forward into the conversation with Dumbledore.

"Yes and no," the old wizard sighed. "We're fighting an idea that has manifested itself in many ways. That makes it difficult to make sure those problems don't happen again. For now, we must prepare for the worst. That means you must prepare your students for any future altercations."

"Altercations?" Neville asked with a timidity that horror creates. "Is that going to be necessary, sir?"

"Hopefully not. I still have hope that Harry Potter will come back before such an event. We need to be prepared for both eventualities however," said the Headmaster with a new smile on his face as he looked at Neville.

Neville thought quietly for a moment. "Both?"

Dumbledore hummed, though this sounded like it was tinged with irritation. "We obviously need to be ready for a fight. Those working against us in the Ministry and beyond are not stopping, so neither must we. But we also need to be ready for Harry Potter to come back and lead the charge against Lord Voldemort." He still spoke with a certain regality, but his words were a bit more clipped. "Harry Potter is the only one that can beat Lord Voldemort once and for all. But he cannot do so without support, which is what you're preparing for."

"Of course, Headmaster," Neville ducked his head in chastisement.

"Don't worry too much about it, my boy," Dumbledore's irritation seemed to fade, or at least temper a bit. "We all have our roles to play. For now, yours is to continue your work at Hogwarts."

"And yours, Headmaster?" Neville asked softly. "What will you be doing now that you have returned?"

Dumbledore rose from the couch and headed out of the room. "Don't worry about me, dear boy." And he was gone.

Neville rubbed his face aggressively. He had hoped to get some more information out of Dumbledore during this visit, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was a mouse trying to pull against a horse. He disliked being a pawn in anyone's game, even Dumbledore's. He was just too young and too inexperienced to be a real player in the game Dumbledore was playing and it made him want to scream.

"Neville," His grandmother greeted as she walked into the room. "How'd it go?" She probed.

"You don't know Grandmother?" Neville was mildly surprised his grandmother had not used her magic to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Augusta sighed unhappily. "As crafty as I can be, I have never been able to compare to Dumbledore's tricks. He blocked all my attempts." Just more proof that Dumbledore was so far ahead of him that he didn't even have a direction to go in. "You know, I respect Albus Dumbledore," She spoke gently, getting Neville's attention. "But that doesn't mean I completely trust him."

His grandmother, who usually praised Dumbledore, was now advocating caution. He would be stupid to discount her worry to blindly follow Dumbledore's subterfuge.

The day to leave for Hogwarts came quickly. Neville checked several times to make sure he had everything. As strange as Hermione's gift to him was, he still made sure to pack the muggle school supplies. She may not have said it outright in her letter to him, but his Pureblood status protected him from Headmistress Umbridge's more aggressive policies regarding muggle paraphernalia.

The train ride was blessedly quiet. He chatted with Seamus when he came by for a bit to ask about Neville's summer and Luna as he had sat with her in her compartment, but some members of Potter's Army stopped by their compartment and said their 'hello's before scurrying off. The Start of Term Feast went about as well as he was imagining. Headmistress Umbridge laid out more rules for the students. Neville nearly growled when she announced that Muggleborns would have their wands confiscated in between the final class of the day and the first classes in the morning, collected by the heads of their houses. Umbridge was a symptom of the greater problem, he tried to tell himself. He couldn't stop the feeling of helplessness as he watched some well dressed man tear Hermione's wand out of her hand with a sneer on his lips. Likely another Ministry stooge.

"Fucking Wanker," Neville heard Ron mutter from behind him. He turned to Ron who was sitting down in the spot across from him and plated himself from the trays as angrily as he could muster.

"Do you know him?" He asked as he turned his head to look at the man again. This time the man nodded his head respectfully at Neville. Neville nodded in return which seemed to please the man. The interaction just confused him more.

"A Ministry stooge," Ron replied curtly. Neville turned back around in time to see Ron tear into a chicken leg. With a sigh Neville nodded, confirming that he had thought the same thing. "A former Death Eater. He claims that he was under the Imperius Curse, like Lucius Malfoy, however no one with a brain actually believes that. Just like Lucius," Ron muttered as he stabbed at his pudding without eating it, likely imagining it was the elder Malfoy's eyes.

"Umbridge managed to sack Flitwick?" Neville couldn't believe that Umbridge had found Enough dirt on Flitwick to fire him. He was one of the best teachers at the school with a record to rival McGonagall's.

"Sack him?" Ron seemed genuinely surprised before nodding to himself. "Oh, that's right. You didn't hear."

"Didn't hear what?"

"Trelawney was found murdered last year after we all left for the hols," Ron said. To hell with the 'don't tell anyone what you overhear'. Neville nodded as he processed the information, remembering Lavender and Parvati complaining about having a really poor substitute in Divination after the hols due to Trelawney being ill. Ron swallowed thickly before continuing. "Umbridge used Trelawney and Filch's deaths and her own assault to gain an arrest warrant for Flitwick. Kingsley Shacklebolt told dad that he was a part of the team that was sent to take him into custody." Ron chuckled to himself. "It didn't work. According to Shacklebolt, the ensuing battle leveled the Charms and DADA classrooms."

"Did they get Flitwick?"

"What?" Ron asked incredulously. "Flitwick is still ranked as one of the best duelists in the country. Shackelbot said that Flitwick was listed as 'Taken into Custody', but wasn't really."

Neville chewed a potato that he had speared before he looked back at Ron. Was that why they were all told that Professor Flitwick was listed as under Ministry custody pending an investigation last year? Why would they lie about that? Neville stopped at that question, it was the ministry controlled by prejudiced Purebloods, they'd say whatever they wanted to fit their narrative. What the hell was happening to Hogwarts?

The two ate into silence for a while before Neville mustered up enough courage to ask the question that had been needling him.

"So...Ron." Neville stuttered slightly when Ron looked up at him. He trudged forward. "What.." He sighed and wondered if he really wanted to ask this, "what happened last year? With your family?" His question was lame even to his own ears.

Ron bowed his head, the emotion clear on his face. He spoke up before Neville had the chance to take his question back. "Mum died," He spoke low enough that Neville could almost not hear him over the chatter in the Great Hall.

Neville's chest seized with emotion. "Oh Merlin, Ron. I'm so sorry."

Ron shrugged with feigned nonchalance. "Not the first loss my family has had," Ron sniffed a bit, the wound likely still very raw from the summer. "Probably won't be the last."

Neville chose not to push that topic of conversation anymore. Not that Ron seemed eager to speak any further anyway. He sat quietly, picking at what little food he had put on his plate. Neville decided to take his leave from dinner before he said something else stupid that hurt someone he considered a friend. Ron didn't seem to notice or care.

Few students had made their way back to the dorms when Neville arrived. He wasn't surprised to find his dorm room empty when he arrived, so he set to unpacking his trunk. It wasn't long before he heard the door to the room open and two sets of footsteps enter.

"Oi! Neville!" George called out soon after entering. "How's our favorite teacher?"

"Teacher?" Neville snapped his eyes over the other twin.

"Advisor?" the first twin tried.

"Mmm, stick with friend there Georgie," said Fred after he tapped his lips a few times in mock thought.

Neville turned to face George. "I'm fairly certain I'm the only teacher that is also your friend."

"Yeah, maybe!" The twins chorused. Neville sighed slightly when Fred threw himself onto his bed, messing up the blankets. "But you'll always be our favorite!" Said the reclining twin as he put his hands behind his head and looked up at the Longbottom heir.

"Which is part of the reason why we decided to stop by early." George said more calmly than his twin and since joking time was over decided not jump back into twin-talk.

"Oh? What did you two redheaded menaces need from me?" Neville asked as he pulled out his books for the year and set about placing them in easy reach for the school year.

The twins looked at each other for a moment before Fred nodded to his brother and George stepped up next to Neville to help hand him the books so that the younger boy didn't have to turn from the shelf to grab the next book. "We were wondering when you were planning on starting Potter's Army back up," George questioned him with a hopeful glint in his eye.

Neville's anxiety flared up at the thought of starting up his resistance group again. Not because he wasn't confident in his abilities to teach or even disliked teaching. His biggest worry was what role his fellow students were going to play in Dumbledore's game. In a game of chess, the pawns were always the first to be sacrificed.

"I hadn't given it much thought, what with everything going on in the Ministry and everything," Neville lied smoothly.

"Ah, come on Nev-Nev!" Fred spoke far too loudly for the quiet room. "We've been looking forward to club activities all summer!"

"He's not wrong Neville," George said. Neville looked to the calmer of the twins and saw the pleading look in his eyes. "This year has been rough on us."

"Yeah, I gathered as much when I spoke with Ron at the Feast, I'm sorry about what's happened to your family," Neville replied softly.

"Ron's been taking it harder than he lets on." George sighed unhappily. "Truth is, we've all been looking forward to the group getting back together."

That was the one thing Neville never thought about when his mind inevitably wandered to the fate of Potter's Army. How the members he's been teaching would react. This was the students' one way of feeling like they had a say in what was happening at the school. That they weren't completely powerless.

"Well," Neville drawled out the word like he was thinking. "I wasn't sure I wanted to start it back up again, but you two have convinced me otherwise." Nevile spoke with a smile at George.

"What, really?" Fred shot up from Neville's bed in glee before quickly composing himself. "I mean...That's nice." He shrugged his shoulders even as his body seemed to vibrate with happiness.

"Yeah! Ickle Nevi-kins comes through in the end!" George patted Neville's shoulder roughly, but it didn't bother Neville. He enjoyed the show of camaraderie. "Let us know if you need any help."

"It'll be our genuine pleasure to help you out," Fred spoke with sincerity.

The twins left his Dorm with big grins on their faces and much lighter steps. Neville now understood his place in their little resistance group. He had earned the respect of his students and he had earned their trust and their friendship. No one could take that from him. So even if 'The Great Harry Potter' came back and took control of this group for his fight against Lord Voldemort, he would never truly lead them. He had no right other than some vague reason that Dumbledore kept in his pocket. Harry Potter might sit on the throne, but Neville will wield the real power behind that throne.

For the first time since his summer meeting with Dumbledore Neville felt like he had some control over his life again.

Between him and the three Weasley brothers, they had decided to hold the first Potter's Army meeting at the end of the first week. That would give enough time for everyone to get settled in and to allow word to silently spread to the different Houses. While Neville's typical day to day wasn't too bad, he was acutely aware that it was only due to his blood status and his famous parents. He spent most of his day sitting helpless as the Ministry approved replacement professors either ignored or outright antagonized the various Muggleborns in his classes.

The first official meeting of Potter's Army was little more than a meet and greet. There were a surprising number of new members, most of which were first and second years. Neville had expected word to spread as Headmistress Umbridge pushed her agenda harder, but he had severely underestimated how fast it would spread. Fred and George had practically begged Neville to let them lead the meeting and Neville allowed them, mostly because it had made them so happy. As the twins covered the rules and protocol, Neville did a quick little head count from the back and found that their numbers had swelled to nearly a hundred people. His little group that had started with just a few friends was quickly becoming something very real and the scope of it threatened to make him dizzy.

This meeting was quite informal. Mostly it was simply getting everyone up to speed and letting the students introduce themselves to each other without fear of appearances. He watched the twins selling off some of their more tame prank items to some of the younger students while Ron had a gaggle of first years around him that he was teaching the finer points of 'Muggle dueling'. Luna was sitting and chatting with a large group of girls that included Padma, Parvati, Lavender, and Hannah in the far corner of the room with many more that he didn't know their names.

"Neville." Neville was startled slightly to suddenly hear his name spoken at his side, but it turned out to be Hermione just trying to get his attention. "I haven't had the chance to ask you if you received my package this summer." She spoke with little inflection, which Neville thought was strange.

"Yes, I did. I was surprised to receive something from you at all, but I really do appreciate it. I actually have the supplies you sent in my trunk. Not that I've had time to really use them yet." Neville had to stop himself from rambling around Hermione. There weren't many girls that gave him the time of day, so when a young lady had her full attention on him in any capacity, it made him ramble or stutter.

Hermione gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm glad you liked them."

A small Gryffindor girl holding the hand of a smaller Hufflepuff girl who was crying ran up to Hermione and tugged at her robe. "Miss Hermione! Someone stepped on her glasses and broke them!" The small Hufflepuff girl lifted up a cheap looking pair of glasses that were bent in the middle and both lenses' cracked.

"Ah. That's easy enough." Hermione replied with a much kinder smile than the one she gave Neville.

Hermione reached into her school bag and pulled out a wand. She performed her spell with impeccably pronounced words and textbook movement, which Neville had come to expect from someone of Hermione's caliber. The glasses popped back into shape and the cracks sealed themselves quickly. The Gryffindor girl gently placed the glasses back on the Hufflepuff's face. Her tears stopped falling once she realized that she could see clearly again and she smiled brightly up at Hermione and the Gryffindor girl.

"Thank you Miss Hermione!" The Gryffindor girl spoke loudly and with a large smile.

"Yes. Thank you Miss Hermione." The Hufflepuff girl thanked her far more softly. "Can you teach me that spell sometime?" She asked timidly.

"Of course," Hermione replied sweetly to the young girl. "How about after the next meeting?"

The two small girls nodded vigorously before running back into the group of students still standing around in small groups while talking. Neville was touched by the display of Hermione helping some younger students, but a small detail stood out to him.

"Hermione?" He called her attention. "I thought Headmistress Umbridge had confiscated the wands of all Muggleborns except during classes." He didn't didn't quite ask or accuse. He was mostly intrigued as to how she had managed to retain a wand.

Hermione scoffed. "Please, anyone with a brain could see that this was coming. I prepared for my wand to be taken years ago." She pushed her bushy hair over her shoulder as she leveled a hard look at Neville. "This isn't even my only backup." She informed him with a slight smirk on her lips before she gathered up her things and made her way to the main door and gathered up Padma and Luna, the three left to go back to Ravenclaw tower.

Hermione had managed to throw Neville for a loop once more. It wasn't that he had a habit of underestimating Hermione. She just had this uncanny ability of continually surpassing expectations, everyone's expectations. Neville decided that he needed to keep a closer eye on her, since it was clear that she was destined to break down barriers. Maybe they could work together at changing their society for the better.

Neville ended up being one of the last students to leave the Room of Requirement, mostly out of habit. There was no need to lock up their little hideout since it did so automatically, but he always felt like it was his duty as the leader to make sure everyone got out alright and the Room was secured. The students were careful to not leave in groups larger than three students and to take different routes to avoid unwanted attention. They still got attention from the Prefects and Professors, but it was easier to explain away in small groups. The twins had made sure to create a few more products for the purpose of distraction for these situations and made sure every member had enough.

The large hallway was empty as Neville walked down it completely alone. He didn't have to worry about the hall monitor's like the others due to his blood status, however he still tried to stay on alert with how tired he was. One could never be too sure of their safety in this school anymore. It wouldn't take much for them to decide Neville was no longer protected and his fate would be the same as the other Halfbloods or even become the same as the Muggleborns. Blood traitors were just as low as any Mudblood. Blood purity was little more than a flight of fancy and it could very easily change tomorrow if those in power found a new ideal that empowered them more.

Neville passed what he initially thought was a dark spot against the wall. Once he was past it, he realized it was being magically manipulated to hide something in shadow. Neville spun around quickly with his wand out and ready to attack whoever was trying to get the jump on him. The thick shadow stayed stuck to the wall and as the person shrouded stepped forward the shadows moved with their body until they seemed to reach the limit of their reach. The body began to materialize and the tendrils of darkness slid across the torso and legs as they gave way to the student that was here to confront Neville. The shadows finally fell away from the person and drifted away into the air in wisps of smoke to reveal, of all people, Draco Malfoy. He had a large albino peacock perched on his shoulder, which only raised more questions since Neville had never seen this creature before.

"We need to talk Longbottom," He spoke with the aristocratic air that was nearly required for a Pureblood of his familial stature.

"And just why is that?" Neville dropped his wand, but kept it in his hand. You just couldn't be too careful when Purebloods of high standing were involved.

"Your little group," Draco made a dismissive hand gesture, jostling the peacock slightly as it stared at Neville in contempt.

Neville could feel his hackles rise at Draco's dismissal like his resistance group was nothing more than an art group. But the fact that Draco Malfoy knew about it made Neville worry about who else might know. Best play it safe. "What about it?"

"I'll be frank with you since I have better things to do right now," Draco made another hand gesture before he brought his fingers up to inspect and Draco clicked his tongue when he was inspecting his fingernails, irritating Neville further. "I only care about the name you're using."

"The name?" Neville responded dumbly. He wasn't sure how Draco knew about Harry Potter or if he even had the correct name.

Draco rolled his eyes and then fixed them on Neville's. "You're calling it Potter's Army. I'm not stupid." He replied curtly. Neville glanced around them, suddenly afraid there might be someone close enough to hear them speak. "You don't need to worry about anyone hearing us. I know quite a few illusions and silencing charms."

Neville turned back to Draco with a sigh. "Ok then. So this little meeting is about the name?"

"Yes," drawled Draco as reached up to gently pet the Peacock's neck. "As you very well know, the Malfoy family is well connected." Neville stifled his sigh and settled for a small eye roll, but chose not to say anything. You never interrupt a Pureblood before a long winded speech. "I am related to every family of note, one way or another." Him and every other Pureblood in this country, Neville thought bitterly as he waited for the point of this conversation. "And that includes Harry Potter."

Now that was a point that intrigued Neville. Draco knew about Harry Potter because they were related? If that were true, that would mean Neville was also related to him, albeit far more distantly. "You're related to Harry Potter?" Neville skeptically stated before he drew his point home, "And you care?"

Draco shrugged, nearly knocking the poor peacock off his shoulder. "Yes and no. But for family reasons I'm not at liberty to speak further on that subject."

"Fair enough," Neville nodded, understanding the position completely. "Then what's your problem with the name?"

"Harry Potter is considered family and, since I am the heir to the Malfoy family, I am required to ensure that the honor of all members of the various connected families is maintained," Draco spoke exactly how one would expect someone of his social standing to speak. High class sophistication with the slight edge of arrogance. The peacock on his shoulder fanned out it's long tail feathers, just adding to the aristocratic air around him.

Neville was far too tired to be dealing with this amount of drama. "Is there a point coming along soon or should I conjure a chair?" He sighed in irritation.

Draco returned his sigh of irritation with one of his own. "Look Longbottom. I just want to make sure you aren't using the name as some kind of inside joke or as part of some illicit activity."

"A joke?" Neville asked him dumbly. He knew he needed to choose his next words carefully, but maybe not as carefully as with someone like Headmistress Umbridge. Draco knew of Harry Potter and knew about his group that borrowed his name, yet Draco didn't go to the Headmistress. He chose to confront Neville in an empty hallway with enchantments to hide their conversation. Neville felt like he could reveal a bit more about his activities to Draco despite his, and more importantly his Fathers', position. "No. No joke," Neville rubbed the back of his neck in nervousness. "But illicit activity?" Neville shrugged. "Depends on your point of view."

Draco seemed to perk up a bit at that. "Point of view, eh?" He seemed to ponder that statement. "According to Headmistress Umbridge?" He asked artfully. As he turned his attention to the peacock and stroked the feathers on its breast.

"The most illicit of any activities taking place on school grounds," said Neville with an uncaring shrug.

"And what about Professor McGonagall?" Draco queried as he kept his attention on the bird on his shoulder.

"She would approve. Completely," Neville knew that was true because she did know about it and she did approve. She may not be involved much, but she did look the other way and cover for him and the other students quite often.

Draco nodded approvingly. "Alright Longbottom. I'll drop it. For now," He brought his hand to point at Neville. "But be aware that I will be watching you very closely. If at any point your little group changes its motive for ill, you will be dealing with me. Understood?" The Peacock on his shoulder made an angry caw at at Neville.

"Yes. I understand," Nevile said blankly, having no idea what to say in this weird situation he had found himself in. This was Draco Malfoy right?

Draco nodded again as he waved his wand in the air and removed the enchantments he had placed for their conversation. He walked past Neville with his air of aristocracy with the damned peacock also looking like it was of a higher social standing. Neville couldn't help speaking up before Draco got too far away.

"Hey Draco," He called out. Draco stopped and turned to face him. "What's with the peacock?"

"Hmm? Oh!" Draco exclaimed before taking out his wand and waving it in the air again. The white bird turned to smoke that gently disappeared above him. "My cousin and aunt have always said that using something wholly out of place can create a helpful distraction during interrogations. Figured I'd try it out for myself." Draco shrugged before walking away again.

Neville was left alone in the hallway with more questions than he had before he entered the hallway. He decided to keep a closer eye on Draco from here on out. He could start tomorrow during the Transfiguration class the Gryffindor Fourth Years shared with the Slytherin Fourth Years.

Draco always sat near the front of the classroom while Nevile sat near the middle. That made Neville's surveillance of him that much easier. Draco didn't end up doing anything of much note during the class, much to Neville's annoyance. He was every bit the dutiful student as anyone else in the class. During the study time of the class Neville saw that he broke the tip off his quill. Draco looked down at it in annoyance before reaching into his school bag and pulled out a long, white peacock tail feather to use instead. Neville looked up at Professor McGonagall, who was walking around the class with a book, with a beseeching look.

Professor McGonagall glanced over her shoulder to see Draco using his ridiculous quill for his Transfiguration paper. She shrugged gently when she went back to her book. "As long as it doesn't disrupt the class or help him cheat, I don't care what he writes with." Neville sat back into his chair when Professor McGonagall walked away. He felt like he had somehow slipped into another reality.

The next couple weeks taught Neville much, but none of it came from the actual classes. Many of the teachers had been replaced by Ministry approved idiots that had clearly only been selected by how bigoted they were. Flitwick's Charm class was now little more than watching some inbred Pureblood fail at even reading spells, much less perform them properly. He couldn't even count how many points Ravenclaw had lost due to Hermione showing him up. Defense Against the Dark Arts was quickly becoming simply 'The Dark Arts', since that particular racist inbreed was more interested in teaching Dark magic rather than how to protect against it. Divination had been removed outright and the classroom had been converted into storage, which wasn't surprising given how much Headmistress Umbridge hated Professor Trelawney and her chosen subject. Neville was disheartened to learn that Muggle Studies had become incredibly anti-muggle, taught by a Halfblood that had clearly been abused by her muggle parent.

Neville sat on his bed, quietly writing in the spiral bound notebook Hermione had given him during the summer. At first he found writing in it quaint to write in them, but grew to prefer the pre-lined pages attached by a curly piece of metal. It was far easier to keep his writing neat and the pages in order this way. It only used the notebooks for planning purposes regarding Potter's Army and stored them in a specially enchanted pocket in his trunk, so no teachers would know that he even had them.

"Nev-Nev!" Fred exclaimed as he slid through the dorm room door, startling Neville. It was only then that Neville realized that Seamus had left at some point, leaving him alone. George and Ron walked in behind him much slower.

"Hey there, teach!" George greeted him as he settled down on the end of Neville's bed. Fred and Ron made their home on Ron's bed.

"Hello, Weasleys. How are we today?" Neville asked as he closed the notebook and set it aside.

"Doing just fine," The twins spoke in unison. Ron shrugged his own response.

"Oh yeah?" Neville reclined back against his headboard and kicked his feet up on George's lap. "If that's the case then I'm really hoping you three will allow me to be quite rude for a moment." Neville started carefully. He wanted to make sure to give the three brothers enough room to deny the request that had been eating away at him.

"A request?" The twins asked in unison.

"You don't ask things of people too often there, Neville. What kind?" Ron asked, far more reserved.

Neville swallowed down his guilt. "I'd like to ask about what happened to your mother," He presented his question as tenderly as he could given the situation.

Ron immediately ducked his head while Fred and George held his eyes as he looked between them. George looked to his twin, who looked back at him. They held each other's gaze, their silent conversation was completely lost on Neville.

"Yeah," Fred said without looking away from his twin. "You should know I guess. You've been a good friend," Ron looked between his brothers, but didn't add anything.

"You remember the book Percy found with Ginny's body last year?" George asked Neville, only breaking eye contact with Fred when he had finished speaking.

"Yeah. I remember," Neville had a hard time forgetting the haunted look on Percy's face when he fell into the Room of Requirement.

George swallowed hard before continuing. "We took the book home, since we didn't want any more kids here at school falling prey to it."

"We have bookshelves full of old books that look very similar, so we thought it would be safe to store there until Bill came up for Percy's graduation." Fred continued when it became clear that George wouldn't be able to. "Bill is just about the only person we trusted that was also capable of securing a dark artifact."

"Mum must have found it after break," Ron muttered next. "Dad has never said much about what had happened, but we managed to listen in on a conversation he had with Shacklebolt."

"We used a new product we made," George smiled as he found something to bring a bit of levity to the room.

"Extendable Ears! Our next, greatest product for getting the best gossip from next door!" Fred proclaimed proudly.

Neville smiled at Fred's antics. "And what did Shaklebolt have to say?" Sad to move the conversation along back into painful territory.

"They talked about the write up he did for the investigation," Ron spoke up with his eyes unblinking and gaze far out the window in the dormitory. "Shacklebolt wasn't sure what could have caused the situation. He was only able to find heavy traces of Dark Magic on Mum and around what was left of the room. He said that the last few spells were a strange mix of cutting, closing, and explosion spells."

"Our best guess is that Mum had found the book and it had tried to hurt her like it had hurt Ginny. She couldn't get away from it and cast a series of spells to try and break whatever connection it had made with her. She resorted to casting a series of explosion spells to try and destroy the book," Fred added with a shuddering breath as he imagined what his mother's last minutes must have been..

"Shacklebolt said the final spell was Bombarda Maxima, which would explain how she finally died," George continued softly as if his voice would break if he spoke any louder than a whisper.

Neville took a moment to collect his raging thoughts. "What happened to the book?" He stuttered through the words as his throat had become very constricted in the last few minutes.

"The book had been placed back on the shelves when the Aurors repaired the living room. It doesn't give off any Dark Magic signatures, so it was unlikely that the dolt Aurors, minus Shacklebolt, would be able to figure it out at all. And Shacklebolt would have been distracted taking care of dad," Fred answered.

"We wrote to Bill about it, but he wouldn't be able to make it up here until Percy's graduation. Fucking Goblin contracts." Ron muttered. "So we did the only thing we could think of to hide the book so it wouldn't hurt dad too."

"Which was?" Neville probed curiously.

"We buried it in the garden. Dad was unlikely to go out there since it was mum's place you know?" George shrugged. "Once Bill was able to make it up, he put it in an enchanted box that only he would be able to open until he had more time to study it and figure out a way to destroy it. We buried it again. Somewhere better."

"That's something, at least," Neville said as he let out a shuddering breath. He never told any of the Weasley's that after Percy had told them everything the night he found Ginny's body, that he had gone to Dumbledore and begged him to look into the secret chamber that held Ginny's body and the giant, murderous snake that could be responsible for the many deaths of his classmates. They ended up not having any luck. The passage Percy had spoken of was either not where he described it or was hidden using powerful magic. Dumbledore had told him not to let their failure get to him, but it was hard not to when he knew that a young girl's body was laying just out of their reach and he couldn't even give her family that small bit of closure. "Thank you all for telling me what happened."

"No problem, Mon Capitaine," Fred gave him a cocky salute. Eager to bring back some jokes and fun to the conversation.

"You deserved to know," George added as Ron nodded.

"I still need to thank you for it. I can only imagine how hard everything has been for you all," Neville said as he sat up and sat with the brothers to be a part of the pain for a few minutes.

The conversation had thankfully turned to far softer topics. The twins were quite proud of some of their new products and showed them off to Neville. He had to admit that the Extendable Ears and Portable Swamp had the capability to be of great use against Headmistress Umbridge and her army of incompetent lackeys.

A few nights later Neville was carefully sneaking out of dinner and heading towards Professor Snape's office while working hard to make sure that no one was following him. It was the same thing he had been doing since Dumbledore had issued him special classes to help him in the fight against Lord Voldemort that he believed was going to come back someday soon.

Professor Snape had been instructed to teach Neville Occlumency and Advanced Potions, but once Professor Flitwick had been ousted by Headmistress Umbridge, he had taken on part of Flitwick's dueling practice while Professor McGonagall took on the other part. When this arrangement was first struck, Neville found his lessons with Snape to be nearly intolerable and he even tried to come up with various reasons to postpone or even cancel them. Once Umbridge took over the school as Headmistress, his attitude changed nearly overnight. His words would still be clipped and he would often end their lessons early, but he was no longer malicious in his treatment towards Neville. Neville was confused at first at Snape's sudden change, but it became clear when the change in his personality extended to Purebloods from other houses during class time. It seemed that Professor Snape had become worried about appearances as Headmistress Umbridge enforced the Ministry's blood purity dogma.

"Good Evening, Mr. Longbottom," Professor Snape greeted him from behind his office desk when Neville entered his office.

"And a good evening to you, Professor," Neville greeted Professor Snape while he settled into the lone desk sitting in Snape's office. "What will we be learning about today sir?" Neville asked diplomatically. Professor Snape was far from his favorite teacher, but he had become nearly tolerable since Headmaster Dumbledore was replaced by Headmistress Umbridge.

Professor Snape ended up giving Neville a lesson on Occlumency. It was a lesson that left Neville frustrated since he had always had trouble with this kind of magic. He could tell that Professor Snape was nearing the end of his patience, since his words were becoming more clipped as they progressed.

"That's enough. We're done for the evening!" Professor Snape snapped at Neville. He walked away from where Neville was sitting, his anger ringing in the echoes of his steps all around the stone room. He stopped in front of the fireplace, making him look like nothing more than a featureless shadow of the man Neville thought he knew.

Neville quietly gathered up his belongings and put them back in his bag. He turned to leave, but stopped just before exiting through the office door. A question nagging at the back of his mind came out in full force.

"Professor?" He asked softly. Professor Snape moved his head slightly, enough to tell Neville he was listening. "Does it get any easier?" Neville shifted his stance before he continued, "Having someone else take credit for your hard work?"

Neville could hear the Potion's Professor sigh from across the room. "This is no doubt about Albus and his plans?" Professor Snape turned to face him. Neville could only make out the vague features of Snape's face.

"Yes sir," It wasn't really. It was about Harry Potter coming back and taking everything from him. In this situation, Snape's relationship with Dumbledore was similar enough to his relationship with Harry Potter, so he could lie a little to get the answer he needed. "I'm concerned that he might not be as in control of the situation as he claims."

Professor Snape chuckled mockingly. "Do you really think you know more about what is going on than him? Albus plays a game that will always be rigged in his favor." Snape walked away from the fire, bringing him back into focus. "You will learn that you and I are nothing more than pawns," Snape's face turned grim as he thought more on his experiences with Dumbledore and, unknown to Neville, Voldemort himself.. "We all play our part in his grand chess game and can only hope that we will not be sacrificed before it ends."

Neville's heart lurched at Professor Snape's words. "Is that all we're good for?" He asked bitterly. "Doing all the hard work for someone else to take the credit and what? Hope we don't die? Hope to get some recognition someday?"

Professor Snape sat back down at his desk overflowing with papers. "Some do it for the greater good. Others to protect our society and the people in it. Then there are some that are hoping to absolve the sins incurred during a misspent youth," He waved Neville off without looking at him. "Find whichever reason helps you sleep at night and go with that one. Now leave."

Neville tried not to let Snape's words bother him, but they still made it difficult to sleep that night. He was a bit groggy at breakfast the next morning, so he indulged in a sweetly made cup of coffee to try and perk himself up to face the school day. The noises of the owls making their morning deliveries was a bit louder than the sound of gentle morning conversation. His grandmother's owl dropped off a small box of sweets for Neville. He didn't bother petting it like so many of the other students did with their family owls, mostly because his grandmother's owl was as surly as she was. Ron sat down in front of him and gave Neville a nod before digging into his pancakes.

The girls at the Ravenclaw table behind him were getting an early start on their gossiping. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Parvati had switched tables along with Lavender. Luna was happily listening to the two chatter while, next to her, Hermione was trying to read her book. He looked around and saw Parvati's twin sister standing at the High Table talking to Professor McGonagall over some papers.

"Luna. Didn't you have a fight with Hannah the other day?" He heard Parvati ask Luna after he turned back around.

"I wouldn't call it a fight," Luna replied in her typical airy way. "I don't really know what it was about honestly."

"I heard from Cho that she has a thing for Neville," Lavender's voice broke through the quiet moment and to get and spread more juicy news. Her words made Neville choke on his coffee which made Ron chuckle. Lavender didn't seem to notice how loud she was or that Neville was sitting behind her as she leaned forward to engage Luna, "She probably thought you were going after him since you two spend so much time together."

"Well that's just silly," Luna replied. "We're friends and he likes to talk about the news in the Quibbler," she finished with conviction.

"There are a lot of other girls that have a thing for Neville in Gryffindor, so she has a lot of competition," Parvati muttered in a conspiratorial way to Lavender and Luna.

"He and Seamus have quite the little fan club going, from what I hear," Lavender giggled. Neville couldn't help the blush he could feel spreading across his face.

"I thought I heard a few girls talking about Ron and all his battle scars in the tower the other day. They seemed quite enamored with his rugged muscles and bad boy attitude," Luna added. Her comment made Ron blush this time, so Neville chuckled at his expenses as payback.

A loud cawing echoed throughout the Great Hall, interrupting most of the conversation going on in the room. Neville looked up and saw a large black bird flying across the room while cawing loudly. The owls were quick to get out of it's way as it neared the front of the room. He saw some movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to see Professor McGonagall snatching some parchments out of the air and Padma was shoving students out of her way as she ran to the Ravenclaw table. The large black bird landed in front of the Patil twins and cawed again, though much softer, at them. Parvati reached up to the bird's head and petted it around it's large head. When her hand reached under its head, the bird's body turned into a cloud of black smoke that quickly disappeared above them and left a strange looking crystal in her hands. Looking around the room, Neville saw that many of the other students in the room were also confused as to what they had just witnessed. The various owls seemed to be keeping their distance from that end of the Ravenclaw table now. Hermione had set her book down and was looking over the crystal bird skull with interest. Gently prodding it with her fingers and attempting to ask questions to the Patil twins who were hardly paying any attention to the bushy haired girl.

Professor McGonagall gathered up the papers that Parvati's sister had left at the High Table and made her way to where the Patil twins were busy reading a letter that the terrifying bird had apparently delivered. A surly Hermione resigned to wait for them to be finished reading the letter to begin to question the twins about the skull and the bird.

"Miss Patil," Professor McGongall greeted in a firm tone and with a thin smile when she approached the Ravenclaw table. Both of the girls' heads shot up from the letter they were both reading. "What exactly was that?" She asked, giving no room for argument.

"What was what?" Padma asked blankly.

"Are you asking about the Dire Raven?" Parvati asked in turn.

"Yes," Neville could hear the narrowing of the professor's eyes in her tone. "What is it? Does it have a dangerous nature?"

"It's from Logan! It's been a few weeks! I wonder if he sent a letter to his mothers and he'd been waiting for it to come back to send us a letter?" Padma exclaimed excitedly as she gushed from the thrill of having her summer crush sending her and her sister a letter.

"Nature?" Parvati asked in confusion. "Well no professor. Logan doesn't use owls you see. He uses a magical artifact that turns into what he calls a 'Dire Raven'." She added air quotes with her fingers.

"It's a really big version of a regular Raven!" Padma added with a big smile. As she looked to the skull that her twin had placed down.

"Is that from that stupid board game?" Hermione spoke up. "Dragons in Dungeons?"

"Dungeons and Dragons!" The Patil twins squealed in unison, startling Hermione more than a bit. This was Padma? Since when did she and Parvati synchronize?

"What was that...that…thing!" Headmistress Umbridge demanded in her typically squeaky high-pitched voice as she struggled for words to express her shock.

"Not everyone in India has an owl Headmistress," Parvati started, sounding quite professional.

"So they use what they have access to ma'am," Padma finished equally as professionally.

"Which can often be magical constructs." Parvati finished as she pointed to the crystal skull. Neville always wondered if all twins started and finished each other's sentences or if it were just the ones that went to Hogwarts.

Headmistress Umbridge placed her hands on her hips. "So this Logan person. He's from your country?"

Neville noticed the girls hesitated a half second before responding with a "Yes!" in perfect unison, making it clear that Logan was not from India. Headmistress Umbridge seemed to take their word for it, though that may have been mostly because of their Pureblood status.

"Alright girls, but you must understand that due to Educational Decree Thirty-Five, all items that aren't of educational value are banned from school grounds," She informed the girls in her artificially sweet tone. Likely wanting to get her hands on it for use in the Ministry.

"Oh, it won't be staying Headmistress," Parvati informed her matter of factly.

"It'll return to Logan once we write our return letter," Padma supplied as she began to fish for parchment and a quill.

Headmistress Umbridge nodded her head, pleased with their interaction. "That's good to hear. You two continue to be upstanding examples of Pureblood girls," She smiled and her toad-like visage seemed all the more grotesque because it may have even been a genuine smile as she walked back to the high table.

Professor McGonagall actually rolled her eyes when she knew Umbridge or her lackey's couldn't see it. She handed the loose papers back to Padma and also took her leave. The girls quickly began replying to the letter they had received even while most of the room was still a little uneasy.

"You know," Ron started to speak behind Neville, pulling his attention back to his dorm mate. "If mum saw that, she'd swear all the way home that it was a Grim."

Neville was proud of Ron being able to reference his mother without breaking down. It was a joke, a bad one that really lacked impact, but it was progress. He hated how he and his brothers were never able to talk about their mother or their sister without getting a bit glassy eyed or violent, depending on the context.

"So…" Neville heard Luna say from behind him, calling his attention back to the gossiping girls. Luna had squeezed herself between Parvati and Hermione with a small notepad and quill in her hands. "The masses need to know if, over the summer, you two met with Harry Potter and had a, how did Skeeter put it?" She tapped the quill against her chin in thought. "Ménage à trois?"

Both Neville and Ron choked on their food. Thankfully none of the girls noticed the two Gryffindor boys trying to choke to death.

"Who's Harry Potter?" Parvati asked in confusion.

"We never met a Harry Potter. Only Logan this summer," Padma replied.

"Is it possible your 'Logan' is Harry Potter using an alias?" Luna pressed as she made notes on her little notepad.

"Luna?" Parvati asked gently not wanting to hurt the girl's feelings or her gossiping interest, she was such a good source after all, "How could we possibly know?" Parvati looked at Luna like she hadn't noticed she had suddenly grown a unicorn horn.

"Well, describe your 'Logan' fellow," Lavender literally leaned into the conversation. "Maybe something will stick out."

"Oh...Logan," Padma sighed dreamily. "He was so smart and funny."

"He was so handsome when he smiled," Parvati told Lavender breathily.

"He was white, but tanned to perfection," Padma remained lost in her own thoughts. Padma gently fanned herself with her hand as she recalled her summer with the boy.

"Remember when he took off his shirt?" Parvati asked her sister.

Padma seemed to have snapped out of her dream-like state. "Of course I do! He was so toned."

"I wanted to touch every part of him with my hands!" Parvati joined in and fanned herself with her hand just like her sister had done moments previous.

"And remember the beautiful dragon tattoo he had on his arm?" Padma asked as she leaned her elbow on the table and held her chin as a dreamy smile curled across her lips as she remembered his warm skin and trembling coiled muscles under her fingers.

"Ladies!" Hermione punctuated her words with her book snapping shut. "Stay focused! Harry Potter is said to have dark hair, green eyes and a prominent scar on his forehead."

"How do you know what he looks like?" Lavender asked incredulously.

"He's been mentioned in some of my history books." Hermione got up from the table and left in a huff, though Neville couldn't be sure it was legitimate.

"She said something about a scar on his forehead. Did your Logan have that?" Lavender brought the twins' attention back to her.

"Scar?" Padma thought to herself. "He had many scars on his body, but I can't remember him having one on his forehead."

"He did," Parvati answered her sister. "But I wouldn't describe it as prominent."

"Shame," Luna shook her head as she continued to write on her notepad.

The Patil twins were finished writing their letter back to whomever before long. Padma picked up the crystal and whispered something to it. The crystal seemed to explode in black smoke that quickly took the shape of the giant black bird. It let out an echoing caw towards the ceiling, startling all the students left in the room and sending any lingering owls scurrying out of the room through the nearest window or door. Neville may have seen one owl fly into the school bag of their student, though he couldn't be sure. The movement was faster than he could even register.

The Dire Raven took off from the tables using it's great wings and flew out of the Great Hall the same way it flew in. Whatever creature this magical construct was modeled after, Neville decided, certainly deserved to be called a Grim.

The rest of the day was far more normal than breakfast. Neville overheard quite a few students asking Parvati questions about the scary black bird and it's intriguing owner, Logan Hunt. She didn't say much of anything about either yet managed to say just enough to feed everyone's curiosity, including Neville.

Neville left dinner early that night, well before most of the other students were even done eating. He had a lot of thoughts bouncing around in his skull and it was beginning to give him a headache. The last thing he wanted to do is go to Madam Pompfrey and lie to her about the cause of the pain. His current plan was to get some rest and hope for the best.

Seamus and Ron hadn't left dinner yet, so he had at least a moment of peace before he had to cast a silencing charm around his bed. It was only when he closed the door to the Dorm Room that he heard a rustling behind him. He turned and found Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix, nesting on the pillow on his bed. It turned his crimson head and greeted him with a high pitched trill. The noise aggravated his headache, but he wasn't going to hold it against such a majestic creature. Neville walked over to his bed and pet the bird on the head.

Fawkes exploded in blinding fire that engulfed both him and Neville and died away before Neville even had the chance to flinch. His stomach lurched badly once the flames died down and it took everything in him to keep everything in him.

"Forgive the short notice, Neville," He heard Dumbledore's voice echo slightly.

It was only then that Neville realized that Fawkes had teleported him into the middle of the Headmaster's office. His initial response was fear of Headmistress Umbridge finding out and sending them both to Azkaban or worse. The feeling passed quickly once he realized that Headmistress Umbridge hadn't once had access to the Headmaster's office in the two years she had been Headmistress. According to Professor McGonagall, it was because the school 'knew' that she wasn't fit for the job. Neville wasn't so sure about any of that, but he was going to take advantage of whatever good fortune he could get.

"Hello Professor. Has something happened, sir?" Neville asked Dumbledore, even as Fawkes gently tangled his hair with his bird style of affection. Preening his beak through it attempting a braid of his hair.

Dumbledore motioned for Neville to sit across from him at the ornate Headmaster's desk. "Nothing has happened as of yet, but it is coming."

Fawkes jumped off of Nevile's shoulder and flew to his perch behind the Headmaster's chair. "What is coming?" He asked timidly.

"I don't know what it is exactly, but I know it's terrible," Dumbledore rubbed his left temple. Now that Neville was closer to him, he could see the dark circles under his eyes and how sunken his cheeks had become. He must have been under a lot of stress if it was beginning to affect him so noticeably. "You must be ready, Neville."

"Ready for what, Headmaster? I need something, anything, to go on!" Neville begged the older man. Dumbledore leveled a stern glare at Neville, but it just didn't have the same effect as it did before the school year started. He seemed so much more like a tired old man.

"There are machinations at play that I do not fully understand." Fawkes hopped off his perch and landed next to Dumbledore on his desk. He trilled softly as Dumbledore scratched behind it's crown of feathers. "What I do know is that it could very well mean the death of many Muggleborn students."

"Is it really so dire?" Neville muttered.

"Honestly, my boy?" Dumbledore's gaze softened. "I believe it is much worse." He sighed and folded his hands in front of him.

Neville's heart seemed to sink and lurch at the same time. It was easy to forget that his little after class group that he started with friends was actually a resistance group meant to train his classmates to fight in a war that had already claimed innumerable lives including his own parents. Things had gotten very real, very fast.

"What can we do?" Neville whispered.

"What we've been doing," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Continue to prepare, though on a much accelerated time table."

Neville remained quiet for a moment while he was deep in thought. More thoughts were bouncing around inside his skull, making his headache that much worse. Professor Snape's words echoed just above the pain.

"How many of my classmates am I going to have to watch die for someone else's war?" Neville found the courage to ask.

Dumbledore hit him with a glare that told Neville just how displeased he was to be asked that question. Neville wanted to shrivel up and blow away from the mere thought of angering such a powerful Wizard, but held firm. If Dumbledore was going to ask him to train his friends to die for his war, then he could handle giving Neville a good reason to.

"I see Severus has been giving you lessons in areas other than what was asked," Dumbledore muttered angrily under his breath. He then sat up to his full height, towering over Neville. "My hope is that no one else has to be lost to this war, but I am not blind to the possibility of it happening." Dumbledore gestured towards Neville angrily. "Concentrate on preparing your students to aid Harry Potter rather than thinking about ridiculous questions such as that!" He practically growled at Neville.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and Neville suddenly found himself just outside the Headmaster's Office doorway. Neville sighed to himself as he looked over his shoulder at the large Griffon statue that held the stairway closed. It almost felt as if the Griffon was mocking him as it stood there motionless. With little choice, he began the trip back to his dorm room. He fears that either Ron or Seamus would have been back by the time he got back and he wasn't sure if he could cast a proper Silencing Charm with how his headache was pulsing behind his eyes. He was about halfway back when he ran into Luna.

"Oh, Neville!" Luna greeted him with her typically soft voice. It was music to his ears since hers was the only voice that never made his headaches worse. "I thought you had already gone back to your room to rest."

"I did, but something came up," Neville motioned behind him vaguely. "I'm heading there now."

Luna fell into step with him and he already felt better having her near him. Their friendship was a strange one, for sure, but he couldn't imagine not having her gentle support during these moments. Sometimes he felt like they might be more than just friends, but he never dwelt on those thoughts long. Not only had things between them never gone past friendship, he couldn't bear the thought of losing her in any way, so he chose to keep things simple instead of screwing anything up.

"You're quiet, yet your thoughts are so loud," She turned to him as they walked and grasped his hand to get his attention as they walked. "Is something wrong?" She asked softly.

"I just have a lot of things on my mind, that's all Luna I promise," Neville replied with a sad smile as he enjoyed the comfort she brought with her.

Luna made a delicate sound in thought. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the Wandering Fawn, would it?"

Neville sighed in defeat. Luna always had the uncanny ability to see right through him. He had toyed with the idea that she was secretly a seer, but he could never get enough of an answer out of her to either confirm or dispute his theory.

"I guess you could say that, Luna," He answered her after a long moment of silent thought in a too tired voice. All of the anger at Harry Potter boiled away in Luna's presence and left him with just his feelings of being used and discarded. His fear and his frustration.

"What is bothering you about him, then?" She asked without looking at him.

"It's just not fair," Neville spoke sharply, unintentionally aggravating his headache. When Luna chose not to speak, he charged forward. "Why do I have to do all the hard work while someone who doesn't even go here gets all the credit?" He let his anger flow out of him through his words. "Why does he get to just walk in and replace me?" He growled out in frustration.

Luna stopped his steps with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Oh Neville. You don't need to worry about that," She spoke with a sad smile. "No one would ever want to take your place," He could have sworn that he could see a tear slide down her cheek and a sudden hiccuping sob as she turned and walked as regally as she could towards the Ravenclaw tower.

Neville had no idea what that was all about. He was worried for a moment that he had scared her, but he knew she was used to Ron's violent outbursts, so the worry left him quickly. He did wonder what was going on with his life and his friends more days than not.

A few weeks after a trip to Madam Pomfrey to mitigate the headache saw Neville sneaking to his next secret class with Professor McGonagall. He much preferred her classes over Professor Snape's. She was just as stern as she normally was, but she seemed to smile more often in what he liked to think of as motherly affection. She mostly taught him advanced Transfiguration, but had taken up defense spells and charms since Professor Flitwick had left.

The lessons today weren't particularly difficult, but the headache he thought Madam Pomfrey had conquered was slowly creeping back into his brain. She had suggested he try and reduce his stress, but that wasn't likely to happen any time soon.

"Are you feeling well, Mr. Longbottom?" Professor McGonagall asked in a less firm tone than before.

Neville raised his head from the desk where it had been laying. "Forgive me Professor. I'm dealing with a lingering headache."

"Come with me, Mr. Longbottom." Professor McGonagall smiled down at him and motioned for him to follow him.

She led him to her office desk that he noticed had a steaming pot of tea already made. She pulled out two teacups from a cupboard behind her desk and set one of them in front of Neville. He always found it endearing when witches and wizards that had been raised the muggle way continued to do small things like that the muggle way when they could pull out their wand and accomplish the same act with far less effort.

"Thank you Professor," He said when she poured him some tea in his cup.

"Don't mention it Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonagall replied as she sipped her own tea. They sat in companionable silence for some time, which Neville liked. It was difficult to get away from all the noise at Hogwarts, so he treasured the moments of silence he could find. "You know, I fought Albus over his ordering of these special classes for you." She spoke softly as she offered him a biscuit.

"You did?" The thought of someone like Professor McGonagall defending him against someone like Dumbledore warmed his heart. He knew his grandmother cared for him, but she rarely showed her affection for him.

"Yes. I didn't doubt your capabilities, but I just felt like it was too much stress for a fourth year, let alone a second year," She leaned back in her chair, her focus set on some far off memory. "I screamed at him, but he held firm. I always knew you were going to be able to rise to the occasion, but I couldn't bear the idea of you doing it alone." Professor McGonagall sighed unhappily. "Let me offer you a compromise for not being able to sway the Headmaster, Mr. Longbottom. If you ever feel stressed or that headache of yours just won't leave, you feel free to come on back here," She smiled caringly at him. "I'm always welcome to some pleasant company over tea."

Neville couldn't help the feeling of warmth that spread through his body. This was probably the first time in his life he had felt so loved. So cared for. He decided that this must be what having a mother must be like.

"Thank you Professor." Neville managed to get his words out without his voice cracking. "Maybe I'll come by after the hols before we get back into the second term? It'd be nice to have a moment of quiet before all the daily goings on drag us down too much,'' he tried to say without seeming too eager.

Professor McGonagall smiled at him again, those this time far more kindly. "That sounds wonderful Neville."

Neville went to bed that night feeling lighter than he had in years. He had fallen asleep quickly and had slept well until he was woken in the middle of the night with a harsh shake.

"Huaw...what?" He mumbled as he sat up in his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes aggressively. He looked up to the dark figure next to his bed and realized it was Dumbledore. "Prof…" He had started to say before Dumbledore put a finger to his lips to silence him and motioned for Neville to follow him. That was wise once Neville woke up enough to realize that they weren't alone here. Seamus and Ron were still asleep in their beds and even with silencing charms it was probably best not to call any attention to them.

Dumbledore led him through the Gryffindor Common Room and out into the hallway outside. He was walking fast, making Neville have to jog to keep up with him.

"What's going on? Why are you here Professor?" Neville asked once they reached the main hallway to the main doors.

"There is something direly important I must show you for your fight against the Dark Lord," Dumbledore spoke calmly, like Neville hadn't angered less than a week ago. "We must hurry before you're missed."

They walked through the large wooden door's of the main gate and continued down the walkway outside that led them across the grounds and through the iron gates of the school grounds. Dumbledore walked into a large open area before he finally stopped and allowed Neville to catch up to him.

"Why are we out here?" Neville asked, out of breath.

"Alas, I am not supposed to be here at the school, the anti-apparition wards are active and I am not keyed into them. We had to walk outside of them." He answered without looking at Neville. Maybe he was still angry at him. Neville wondered idly why Dumbledore didn't just use Fawkes to teleport them, but maybe it would have drawn too much attention given the time of night.

"Where are we going?" Neville asked as he stood up having finally caught his breath.

Dumbledore said nothing, only offered him his arm and when the young man took it, they were magically transported from the field to an old cemetery. Neville hated apparating since it always made his stomach turn dangerously, but he recovered quickly enough this time. Dumbledore motioned for him to follow once again, leading him at a much slower pace between the smaller headstones. He finally stopped in front of a small mausoleum with two stone statues on either side of the door, one of an angel and one of a cloaked figure holding a scythe.

"What's this?" Neville asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. Why were they here? What was the point of all of this?

"Your destiny," Dumbledore said as he turned to face Neville with a smile that unsettled him for some reason.

Neville decided to do what was being suggested, walking towards the door and reaching out for the handle. His arm was suddenly grabbed by the stone angel and it jerked him towards it. It grabbed each of his arms with its own and wrapped it's stone wings around his body, immobilizing him.

"What's happening?" He asked Dumbledore with a pleading look. "Professor!"

Dumbledore didn't answer him. Instead, He turned away from the young man to face another young man holding a brown blanket and was standing behind a huge cauldron. Neville was positive that hadn't been there when they approached the mausoleum. "I have brought the boy," Dumbledore informed the man by the cauldron.

"Good," a sickly male voice replied, but it was not the man that was standing. "Let me see him!" The voice growled an order. The man took the brown blanket and carefully moved it to the side to reveal an incredibly sick looking baby with red eyes and two thin slits for a nose. The baby grinned as it turned its wrong-looking eyes to Neville. "Not the one I want, but you'll do," It closed its eyes and sighed tiredly. "Begin," It gave a weak order.

The man holding the baby walked towards the cauldron and stepped into it after he shed his clothes and unwrapped the baby. He and the baby both stared at Neville as they sunk under the surface of the liquid inside the cauldron, the baby's head cradled to the chest of his caretaker. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and used it to pull a long bone from the mausoleum door and dropped it into the cauldron. He then put it away and pulled out a slender knife. He used it to cut Neville's face, making him scream in confusion and pain. Neville watched Dumbledore in quiet terror as he walked to the cauldron and flicked a drop of the blood that was on the knife into the cauldron. Neville was horrified and confused. Why was this happening? Dumbledore was working on something dark? What kind of ritual was this?

The cauldron began to bubble violently as soon as the blood hit the liquid and erupted in black fire soon after. It bubbled and rolled inside its container before the black liquid seemed to rise out of the cauldron in a solid mass. It moved over the edge of the cauldron bubbling and belching dark flames as the mass moved. It glided to the ground without changing its height and began to move to the bound young man. Two hands came out of the liquid and seemed to pull the dark mass back like a hood that extinguished the bubbling black fire. There was a man under the liquid that resembled the sick baby that went into the cauldron, only now it was a man much healthier looking, but still had the unnatural red eyes and long slits for a nose as well no hair but his skin was a much healthier color and his body filled out much better the dark robes he was wearing.

Neville wondered who this man was if he were his 'destiny', but his instincts were roaring the answer to him. Dumbledore was working with Lord Voldemort. Oh Merlin, why was this happening? Why was he training people? Why did Dumbledore have him gather up those students just to turn him over to the Dark Lord? Was this what was supposed to be Harry Potter's destiny that he had unwittingly assumed? His thoughts turned to the terror his mother must have experienced facing the Death Eaters, oh mother, he thought.

"Well done..." Lord Voldemort smiled coldly at Dumbledore. "...Professor." He sneered. Dumbledore responded with a deep bow. "Now deal with the other," Voldemort waved a hand to indicate Neville. "We have work to do."

Dumbledore pulled out a wand and handed it Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord used it to leave the cemetery with a loud crack. Dumbledore turned back to Neville and made a motion to the stone angel, which removed its wings from Neville's body, yet continued to restrain his arms.

Dumbledore put a hand on Neville's shoulder and gave him a kind smile. "Your sacrifice has redeemed your family," He told him softly before plunging the knife into Neville's chest.

Strangely, Neville didn't feel the pain from the wound, only the warmth as his blood began to flow down his body. He looked up at his professor, his former mentor, silently begging him for any answer as to why he was doing any of this. Dumbledore gave him no answer. He remained stoically silent as he pulled out a second wand and used it to apparate away.

Neville was left alone in the dark cemetery, being held by the stone angel and the cold feeling of death beginning to creep up his limbs.

As his blood drained away and took his life with it there was only one last thought he gave for the living world:

"Fuck you, Harry Potter. You utter piece of shite. Fix this Harry, or I'll haunt you..."

As Neville's eyes closed and the fury of his thoughts cooled in the embrace of death Neville felt the confusion and frustration of another person and felt that at least someone had heard his last wish.