Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness, page 10
The moment he crossed the threshold, however, his heart stopped, and all color drained from his face. All around him, as though a Silencing Charm had been cast, conversations were trailing to a halt, and only the Slytherins seemed able to continue talking as they took their places at the tables and chairs which, he noticed vaguely, had been restored to their customary places.
Snape sat in the Headmaster's chair as they had all come to expect, his black robes spread around him, his face looking even more sallow in the golden light of the autumn morning, but there was a horrible smile on his thin lips. On the wall behind him, a newly-hung Hogwarts banner looked awkward and out of place, the fiery letters still half-visible through the thick tapestry, but that was the source of the scowls on the faces of the Carrows and the downright murderous look on Filch's cadaverous face. The source of Snape's smile stood on either side of his chair.
Luna Lovegood and Hannah Abbott.
The two girls stood at rigid attention, still in their nightgowns, gagged and immobilized by thin, magical silver ropes to a pair of gleaming stakes that had been sunk deep into the stone. They looked horribly like the etchings of witch burnings from their History textbooks, only a pile of kindling at their feet needed to complete the image. Luna seemed completely unaffected by her situation, even on the verge of dozing off, but Hannah was terrified; her eyes huge, her cheeks gleaming with tears.
You sick bastard, Neville thought fiercely, you know it was two boys, no matter what, you know it wasn't.... Then across the long room, Neville's eyes met Snape's black gaze, and he knew. If Snape had taken his victims from Gryffindor, the surprise would have been lost, but in all the rest of the school, he could have chosen no two people who would have torn into Neville's heart as deeply, no two dearer friends. Now, he would have to watch them suffer punishment he knew to be his, or come forward freely, and either way, Snape would have won. It was checkmate.
Ginny grabbed the sleeve of his robes, and Neville felt himself pulled down onto the bench, shaking in helpless anger as they all took their seats. He tried to catch McGonagall's eye, but she too appeared to be holding back more anger than he had ever seen in her, clutching her wand in her fist as she stared down at her plate as though vividly imagining Snape transfigured into something small, writhing, and very stabbable.
Food appeared in front of them, but no one moved towards it, waiting breathlessly as Snape got slowly to his feet, leaning forward and spreading his hands on the staff table as he looked out over them. "Last night," his words echoed through the silence as though he had used a Sonorus Spell, "I caught two students in this Hall committing a most ill-advised act of vandalism. They managed to escape, but they have been apprehended since."
He turned towards Hannah, and she began to struggle wildly against her bonds, a thin trickle of blood appearing on her chin as the fragile skin of her lips split under the chafing of the gag. Snape was utterly unmoved by her terror. If anything, it seemed to feed his overall attitude of satisfaction as he continued. "Miss Lovegood and Miss Abbott will be demonstrating for all of you the extreme foolishness of such actions. The Cruciatus Curse would not seem to have been enough of a deterrent, but the Carrows assure me that they have many other means of enforcing discipline which they are eager to show you."
The two squat siblings stood, tiny eyes shining with malice in their pale, doughy faces as they pushed up the sleeves of their robes and approached the bound girls, wands in hand. Alecto reached Luna first and stood only inches behind her, leaning forward and running her wand along the white cheek like a lover's caress. Their eyes met, and something in Alecto's gaze made Luna scream.
It was the final straw. Never, in all their time as friends, had he ever seen Luna Lovegood frightened. Even when they had faced certain death in the Ministry, she had been like a rock to them. No matter what she wore or what strange things she believed in, he could always count on her to face the worst with a calm detachment that made it easier for everyone around her to find their own bravery. Now she was screaming, screaming silently beneath the gag, her blue eyes impossibly huge and pleading.
Neville stood.
"No!" Parvati was yanking at his robes now, pleading with him to sit back down, but it was too late, and he would not have taken it back if he could. He shook her off and stepped into the aisle, pulling himself up to his full height as he stared unflinchingly at the man he hated more than anything else in the world. Triumph gleamed in Snape's eyes, but he did not care as he began to walk forward. He knew that the Fidelius Charm would prevent him from being able to betray the D.A., but it would not prevent him from taking what was rightfully his.
Snape tilted his head, one eyebrow raising in mock surprise. "Mr. Longbottom? Do you object to my authority as Headmaster of this school to punish troublemakers?"
"They didn't do it."
"And do you know," he sneered, "who did?"
Neville took a deep breath. "Take me. Punish me instead."
"Very noble, but there were two." Snape turned back to the Carrows, who were all but drooling over their would-be victims; human attack dogs on the thinnest of leashes. He raised his hand, but stopped as a second voice called out.
"Then take me as well. I shall be the other." Neville felt a swell of pride as Ernie Macmillan rose to his feet and joined him in the aisle.
There was a long, torturous pause, and Neville wondered suddenly if this was the punishment. To draw them out, make them admit themselves, and then go ahead and brutalize the girls anyway. Then Snape gave a wave of his wand, and the Carrows were unceremoniously pushed back from their victims. The silver bonds and stakes faded like smoke, and Hannah broke away instantly, flinging herself into Professor Sprout's open arms as she burst into tears of relief.
To everyone's surprise, Luna did not move so quickly. For a long moment, she stood there, staring at Alecto, and then she spoke, her dreamy voice unusually clear. "I do not think," she said simply, "you are a very nice person, even on the inside." Then, with a toss of her head, she joined the Ravenclaw table as though nothing had happened, reaching for a slice of toast and beginning to spread tomato sauce on it before Alecto had even finished processing what she had said.
Now Ernie and Neville stood alone, and he could feel every eye in the school upon them as Snape crossed his arms and tapped the end of his wand against his chin. "Ah, yes. The brave, chivalrous Gryffindor and the strong, loyal Hufflepuff. You must feel so proud, flinging yourselves into harm's way to save the fair maidens from a fate worse than death. But, if you are determined to make examples of yourselves, I can accommodate you."
Snape gave a twitch of his wand, and thick iron chains burst like snakes from the wall behind him, shooting forward to clamp around their wrists and ankles before either boy had a chance to react. Neville dug in his heels, struggling with all his strength, but it was utterly useless as the chains began to retract, dragging him forward until he was pressed against the cold wall beneath the words they had carved the night before. His face twisted, and he started to speak, but before the words could leave his lips, a gag had tightened around his mouth, all but choking him.
"You will remain there," Snape said smoothly, "without food or water until the damage has faded. I believe you will find that it was done quite thoroughly. It should take two or three days at least before the last has gone." Neville could hear the chains rattling as Ernie fought against his own restraints, and then he gasped beneath the gag as a sharp, burning sensation like the blade of a hot dagger ran swiftly down his back, and he was stripped naked to the waist, his torn clothing falling in a heap at his feet.
Somewhere behind him, there were muffled sobs as a few of the younger students began to cry. Then there were gasps, a few moans, and Snape's voice again. "Mr. Filch, I believe you have waited for this for a very long time."
The gag vanished, and Neville turned his head with difficulty, his cheek scraping against the rough stone as he caught Ernie's eyes in a silent pact. Then he closed his eyes, clenching his teeth and opening his hands to brace his palms against the wall.
There was a swish, a crack, a slap. Once. Twice. Three times. Again and again. A dozen times now. Two dozen. Three. Forty times in all. More were crying, older students now, and a few of the little ones were in complete hysterics. Then again. Once. Twice. Forty again.
Neither boy made a sound.
Chapter 4: Taking Sides
The first thing he saw was that the world had turned from gray to crimson. Neville blinked slowly, his eyelids feeling ridiculously heavy, and everything seemed to double, spin, and then resolve itself again into the same flat redness. He tried to move, only to discover that he could not feel his own body, and he began to wonder if he was hallucinating. If he was, it wasn't so bad. The red was strange, but the numbness was a blessed relief after the endless, grinding pain that had been his world for so long.
"You're awake!" The voice seemed familiar, and as he struggled to place it, his thoughts responding with the same reluctance as his eyes, a face appeared in the middle of the red. It was a girl. A pretty girl, with long red hair that had been braided back, and she looked both worried and very happy. The red. It was above the girl. Familiar. The canopy of his bed! Then he wasn't hallucinating. He was in his own bed, and he knew the girl. What was her name?
"Uhnnee." The word sounded like it had come from a badly wounded stranger, hoarse and ragged, and he tried again, but this time only a rasp emerged from his lips.
"Shhhh...." Soft, gentle hands slipped beneath his head, lifting it slightly, and he felt something against his mouth as the girl - Ginny - smiled kindly at him. "Here...drink this."
It was water. Nothing more than cool, fresh water, but the moment it touched his tongue, he knew that he had never tasted anything so sweet and wonderful. He gulped at it greedily, but she pulled it away, and he heard himself moan in despair. "A little at a time, you'll make yourself sick." She allowed him another mouthful, and he held it as long as he could bear before swallowing, feeling the parched, shriveled tissues of his mouth and throat seem to come alive again.
He was starting to be able to feel again. Neville became aware that his tongue was grossly swollen in his mouth, his lips like sandpaper, cracked and rough. Still, however, he could feel nothing at all from the neck down, and this began to worry him. He tried again to move his arms and legs, but it was impossible to tell if anything had happened.
With a sense of rising panic, he looked up at Ginny, gratefully accepting another sip of water before he attempted to speak again. "Ca't...fee...m'seff...."
The words were still husky and half-formed, but she seemed to understand. "It's okay. You've been given enough Painkilling Potions to numb a Hungarian Horntail. It's really better that way right now. You should still be in the hospital wing, but Professor Snape only let you stay there until you were out of danger. I don't know how much you remember, Neville, but you and Ernie almost died."
He frowned, trying to shake his head. The beating had been excruciating, the hunger and thirst unbearable, but to say they had nearly died.... "Zaashrat'n."
"I'm not exaggerating. Madame Pomfrey made them take you down at the end of the third day. You'd been completely passed out since that afternoon, Ernie'd only lasted about an hour longer. It was the dehydration after...after you lost all that blood. She said you'd both have been dead by morning at the latest."
Neville tried to say something again, to ask about the brave friend who had taken the terrible punishment alongside him, but Ginny lifted the cup to his lips, and this time, the water was sour, almost lemony, with a strangely bitter aftertaste. He wanted to ask what it was, but everything was growing dim again, and the last thing he heard as he slipped under was Ginny's voice, strangely maternal for a girl so young. "Just sleep for now, there'll be time later...."
OOO
When Neville awoke again, it was to far greater awareness, but also to far greater pain. His back felt as though it were on fire, but when he tried to roll over to ease the discomfort, every muscle and joint let out a howl of agony, and he groaned.
"Fearless Leader has returned to us."
Recognizing Seamus' distinctly accented voice, he turned his head stiffly, and was surprised to see that a good-sized crowd had gathered by his bed. Next to Seamus, there were Ginny, Parvati, Colin, and Lavender, but also Luna and two young fourth-years he didn't recognize who were clad in the emerald-trimmed robes of Slytherin. His eyes widened. "What -"
"Terrance Runcorn and Malcolm Braddock," Ginny explained. "New recruits. They wanted to see for themselves that you had survived in one piece."
"We're not enlisting in something that's scrambling to find a new leader," said the taller of the two boys. He was stocky, with a shock of deep chestnut hair and the beginnings of a beard already darkening the line of his jaw quite strongly for only fourteen.
Neville blinked, wondering if he had returned to consciousness as completely as he had first thought. "But you're -"
"Slytherin." The second of the boys was almost half a head shorter, as fine-boned as a girl, with a nervous, fluttery air about him. "But this whole business has just gotten so...." He waved his hands as if shooing away something nasty. "I mean, people aren't going to stand for it once it starts to come out, and there's always talk. I just don't think it's going to work out for the Dark Lord overall. There's always going to be people like you lot, and I've read enough history to know how things go when there's a really strong resistance movement...the regime has to crack down harder and harder, more people get unhappy, then...you know. I'd like to be on the winning team early, if you don't mind."
He seemed more to find it distasteful than actually morally distressing, but Neville supposed that it didn't really matter, provided he was sincere. His eyes flickered to the first one, Runcorn. "Your name seems familiar."
"My father's a Death Eater. I think what the Dark Lord's doing is great, myself. I'd love to never have to brush shoulders with Mudbloods again, but Potter impersonated my father at the Ministry, and the Dark Lord had him...." The dark, hooded eyes squeezed shut, and Neville recognized the boy's expression all too well.
"Tortured?" He asked gently.
The boy nodded. "Awfully." His eyes opened again, and they were blazing with a helpless fury. "He hadn't done anything wrong! That little Mudblood dropped something into his coffee while the other one was asking him some stupid question right after he'd Apparated in for work, and the next thing he knew, he was practically bleeding to death out his nose! The Dark Lord's gone insane!" A wild, hunted look had come over Runcorn's face. "The Malfoys are as good as dead the next time his wand hand gets itchy, and they're one of his most faithful, the most powerful -- he doesn't know the difference between friends and enemies any more!"
Despite the slurs against Muggle-Borns, Neville actually felt far more certain about Runcorn than Braddock. There was something there far more powerful than any historical deduction, and the value of having a Death Eater's child among them was not something to be taken lightly. On the other hand, Dumbledore had learned a lesson about trusting apparent turncoats that Neville would never forget. He looked past the two Slytherins to Ginny and Luna. "Let me talk to my Lieutenants. Seamus, take them out into the common room...and see that no one messes with them. They're our guests for right now."
As soon as the door had closed behind the three, Ginny made a face. "First order of business is going to be Scourgifying Runcorn's mouth."
"First order of business," corrected Neville, "is giving me a really good explanation of why you trusted them...." He shifted, giving another low moan as his back let loose with a burst of pain that clutched his throat with the urge to be sick. "Scratch that. First order of business is more of that Painkilling Potion."
"Madam Pomfrey said you can't have any more for four hours." Lavender informed him regretfully. "It's really strong, and she says if you stay on it too long at a stretch, you can get addicted, and that's worse than having to deal with the pain on and off. The same with the Sleeping Draught. Although we have been able to get about two gallons of water and a couple bowls of porridge into you, so you should feel a lot better on that front."
Neville swore, then looked back to Ginny. "Slytherins?"
"Right." She scooted her chair in closer, propping one elbow on the bed and leaning towards him. "The thing is, I don't trust them as far as I can spit them, but Luna had a really good point." She nodded her red head towards the Ravenclaw Lieutenant, who shrugged.
"They came to us. That means they had guessed. The way I reasoned it out, if we deny them, they'll be bitter, angry, and free to gossip and spread assumptions and rumors among their House. If we accept them, they're under the Fidelius Charm, and we're a lot more protected, because they can't rat us out. Oh, and I made you some flowers." The word 'made' seemed odd, but then she held out one dainty, pale hand, and he saw a small, folded piece of paper in it. As she opened her fingers, it burst into a cascade of beautiful, vividly painted crimson and gold flowers that bloomed extravagantly all over her lap.
He smiled, remembering again why Luna had been more than worth the amount of pain he was now in. She really was a wonderful friend. Seeing her suffer what he had or worse at the hands of the Carrows would have been a truly unbearable ordeal. "Thanks," he said, hoping she understood that he meant a lot more than just the flowers, "--and I guess you're right about the Slytherins. They just make me really uncomfortable."
Colin made a face and an extremely descriptive gesture, and Lavender stifled a snort of laughter. Ginny was less successful. "Colin, sometimes you hit it right on the nose," she giggled.
The Secret-Keeper shrugged, blushing. "I try."
"We all do." Neville let his eyes close for a moment, shifting his shoulders as carefully as possible to try and find some position that was at least fractionally more comfortable. As he did, something occurred to him, and his eyes flew open. "Merlin's pants - Ernie!" He struggled to sit up, scarcely noticing the fresh eruption of pain, but Parvati and Colin grabbed him in a gentle but unshakable hold and kept him down.
