Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness, page 31
Thankfully, Mr. Weasley seemed to understand, and he nodded. "And you don't have anyone at school who's close to you the way Ron and Harry are?"
"Not really. I'd say Ernie and Seamus are closest among the guys, but they're my officers, so I can't let them know if I'm panicking about command, and..." he blushed, "...well, it's not the sort of thing you feel right burdening a girl with if she's not your wife, especially if it's memories of awful stuff, and all of them are D.A. too. And I'm the youngest one in my family by about ten years, so I barely know my cousins."
"I see why you took the potion, then. It's way too much to ask anyone to deal with." There was no hint of sarcasm in the words, and Neville raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Harry deals with a lot more."
"Harry has Ron and Hermione, he had Dumbledore, Sirius, and he still has myself and Molly as well. So even if he had twice the burden to begin with, he has a third of what you do after it's split six ways." He spoke as if he were listing them as Harry's own family, and the look of confusion on Neville's face did not escape the shrewd gaze behind the little spectacles.
"You know, when we first started having kids, Molly and I decided to keep going until we ran out of room in our hearts for more. It was a lovely idea, but I don't really recommend it, because we ran out of room in our house and my paycheck a lot faster." He chuckled, and Neville found himself smiling back. "But the funny thing is," Mr. Weasley mused, turning the glass in his hand to watch the whisky coat the sides in thin, golden sheets, "fate's still given us three more - Harry's another son to us, Hermione and Fleur as good as two more daughters - and we're still not out of room." He looked up, meeting Neville's eyes pointedly.
"If you ever feel like things are getting to be too much again, Neville, you can always send a letter. Use one of the Coding Quills, give it to Ginny, she knows how to get them through to us. And if you absolutely feel there is no other way, you are an adult." He pulled the bottle of Percy's medicine from his pocket and set it on the table between them. "But I would beg you to be extraordinarily cautious."
Neville blinked, shocked. "You're letting me have that back?"
"I would rather you feel nothing than be so overwhelmed that you did something truly reckless. However," he raised a finger sternly, "once this dose wears off and you can feel again, I want you to really think about what you did to Colin in there. You hurt that boy badly. Your heart is just as important a command tool as your head...sometimes, I think that Dumbledore needed to remember that when he dealt with Harry a little more often, because there has been a lot of unneeded pain for him, but that's beside the point."
He thought of Colin's heartbroken look, and beneath the comforting blankness, something cold and shameful seemed to slither through the pit of his stomach. Neville looked down at the worn surface of the table, fidgeting with the nearly-empty glass. "I understand. I won't do it unless it's...you know. Unless I'm really losing it."
"I think," Mr. Weasley said quietly, "that might not happen so much if you have options."
"Yeah." He stood up, leaving the last of the whisky beside his now-empty bowl, but pocketing the bottle of potion as he turned to the door. "Thanks for the food, Mr. Weasley."
A warm smile came in return. "Call me Arthur, please."
"Arthur." The name felt a little odd on his lips, he was not accustomed to using the first name of people so much older, but it also felt somehow far more appropriate than the cool formality. He put a hand on the knob, then turned back with a faint, wry smile. "I hope you won't be offended if I have one more thing I want to eat tonight."
The ginger brows raised curiously. "Do you want some cake?"
"No," Neville sighed, "There's nine people out there I was a real skrewt to, and I think I need to save room for crow."
Chapter 11: The Room of Hidden Things
To Neville's great relief, the rest of the Christmas holiday passed far less eventfully than the first few days. The Weasleys allowed the Creevey brothers to move into the twins' old room, while Ernie and Susan spent the holiday with her family, and Hannah, to his delight, asked if she could stay at Willow Creek with Neville and his Gran. Permission was given gladly, as the Abbotts were an old and popular wizarding family, and she and Gran spent a great deal of time discussing mutual acquaintances, but there were still blissfully endless hours for the two of them alone.
He showed her the hothouse his grandfather had built and he had restored, and she showed not a moment's hesitation in turning up her sleeves and digging into the rich soil of the pots and seedling beds. With her help, he was able to completely transplant all of the Cringing Chrysanthemums without losing a single one to nerves, and when they finally finished, it was four in the morning, and they were both exhausted and smeared with mud, but they were also both laughing, and she was more beautiful then - with bits of compost in her hair and mulch on her robes - than he had ever seen her before. What they shared in the early hours of that morning, Neville knew, would be something that would stay with him through whatever darkness lay ahead.
When he finally kissed her good-bye at King's Cross Station before they crossed onto Platform 9 ¾, he found that he was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts and his friends in the D.A. The few weeks break had made the whole thing seem far less intimidating, and he had discovered himself actually planning out missions and meetings in his head when his mind was not occupied with thoughts of Hannah's sweet smile and the feel of her soft lips on his.
The magical platform was strangely solemn, the usual excited chaos subdued into hushed good-byes under the silent gaze of the Death Eaters. Students were staring at the cars in pale-faced apprehension as they were shepherded into four straight lines, but here and there he caught the eye of D.A. members among the crowd, and the defiant smiles that passed between them were like sparks of light in the gathering gloom.
Ahead of him in the Gryffindor queue, Ginny's bright red hair was impossible to miss as she stood behind Colin, whose right hand still hung unnaturally stiffly at his side, his left laced protectively through his younger brother's. Dennis seemed oddly detached from it all, staring blankly into space, and Neville frowned, making a mental note to take a moment after they had reached the school to talk privately with the young wizard.
Then a murmur rippled through the crowd, hushed and fearful, and he turned, feeling every pair of eyes following his to where a tall, slender figure in lavish robes of ebony silk had strode onto the platform, flanked by a veritable entourage of four shiningly masked Death Eaters. The hooded head turned as he passed, and Neville gasped as he recognized the pale, pointed features of Draco Malfoy. Gray eyes locked with brown for a split second, and the flare of hate there took his breath away.
With regal disdain, Draco glided the length of the train, passing coolly by his fellow Slytherins to watch as his trunk was loaded for him onto the Staff Car. He shook hands with the Carrows with stiff formality, then leaned in, and Neville felt a swift chill run up his spine as he saw the other youth nod directly towards him, and Alecto's pallid face twisted in distaste as she vigorously nodded her reply to whatever he had said to her.
Ginny turned, her brow creased with worry as she gave a tiny nod of her head towards the newcomer. I know, he mouthed back silently. Do you think - he stopped. Her eyes had widened in alarm, and her vivid hair whipped sharply as she turned quickly to face the front of the queue again. Looking in the direction her eyes had flicked, he froze. Malfoy had peeled away from his escort, and was crossing the platform directly towards him, his thin lips twisted in a familiar sneer.
"Longbottom...." The slow drawl was deeper than he remembered, and he realized that he and Malfoy had not spoken to one another since Umbridge's office almost two years previously. They had both grown into young men since, and he drew back his shoulders, meeting the cold eyes without flinching.
"I'm surprised you're willing to talk to me without your bodyguard." Neville's own mouth quirked into a mocking smile. "Where've you been? Hiding out with Mummy and Daddy because you let murderers into the school?"
"Where I've been is none of your business. I'm doing more important things than writing stupid essays for Binns now." He held out his left arm, pushing back the dark sleeve, and Lavender let out a stifled little scream behind them as she saw the snake and skull branded harshly into the creamy skin. "The Dark Lord wants me to finish the last of my education, however," Malfoy sneered, "so I'm back for the time being."
"What does that have to do with me?" Neville asked, "Or were you just hoping I'd be impressed by that thing?" He nodded his head dismissively towards Malfoy's arm. "Because I have news for you, I'm no longer the kid you liked to show off by tormenting in first year."
Malfoy gave a hollow little laugh. "No, I guess not. The Carrows and Snape have been having a lot of trouble from you. But you might want to reconsider that now." He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small object, which he dropped into Neville's hand with a triumphant look. "Causing more trouble might be as stupid as trying to teach Trolls how to do ballet."
With another dark sneer, Malfoy was gone in a swirl of black robes, and Neville was left staring into his open hand. It was an earring. A single earring shaped like an orange radish. Yet it was Malfoy's final words, not the token from his kidnapped Lieutenant that made his blood run cold as his hand began to tremble.
He knew about the room.
OOO
"We hex him! I'll do it myself. Catch the little bugger in the corridors between classes and turn him into a Flobberworm!" Seamus slapped his wand loudly into the palm of his hand, his freckled face flushed with rage as he leaned forward over the back of the overstuffed armchair in the Gryffindor common room.
Lavender shook her head with a tight smile. "Seamus, you're failing Transfiguration. I don't think you could turn him into a Flobberworm...or much of anything else."
"I know!" His grin was vicious. "So wouldn't it be a fine bit of a surprise to see what kind of wiggly little mess he turned out as?"
"I'm with him." Ginny waved her hand at the lone earring sitting on the table between them all. "We shut him up about the Room of Requirement, and we make him pay for whatever they've done to Luna."
Neville shook his head. "I'm the last person who would usually be in favor of going easy on Malfoy - I was one of his favorite targets for years - but Luna's exactly why we can't afford to lay a wand on him. This is a message. We do anything to him, she's the one to pay for it."
Parvati had picked up the earring, and her dark eyes widened as she turned it over carefully between her fingers. "Look--" She leaned in, tilting it to the firelight as she pointed to an almost invisible line running around the center of the little orange fruit. "Do her earrings usually open?"
"No!" He hopped off the couch eagerly, joining her on his knees next to the low table as he studied the piece of jewelry more closely. "She usually wears real petrified Dirigible Plums mounted on little hooks. Someone's hollowed that out and put it back together."
Holding her breath, Parvati set it back on the table, then tapped it carefully with her wand. "Diffendo!"
With a faint snapping sound, the earring split neatly in two, and a thin strip of parchment uncoiled onto the polished wood. Seamus snatched it up, tipping it to the light, and his mouth dropped open in shock as he read. "It's from Malfoy!"
"What?!" Neville grabbed the slip away and stared at it in disbelief. The parchment was thick and expensive, the handwriting delicate and precise in deep emerald ink, but the hand was a boy's, not at all like Luna's casual, looping script.
N.L. meet me in the Room at midnight. Come alone. D.M.
He swore loudly, dropping the parchment on the table, where it was immediately descended upon by the others. Ginny was the first to look up, her eyes blazing. "You can't go, Neville! It's a trap!"
"I know it's a trap, I'm not stupid!" He ran his hands through his hair, staring at the little slip as though it might suddenly manifest more information for them. "But I don't see I have much choice. He knows about the room, and whatever he wants from me to keep his mouth shut, I'm going to have to at least hear him out."
"What if it's not a bribe he wants?" Lavender frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "What if it's you? Maybe he thinks he'll win points with You-Know-Who if he can turn in the leader of the D.A., and he doesn't want to have to fight all of us?"
"Well, he'll get more than he's bargaining for fighting just me, if that's what his idea is." Neville was careful to keep his tone almost casual, trying not to let them suspect the cold knot that had formed in the pit of his stomach since he had first read the simple, awful summons. "I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve these days."
"He's got a little more up his sleeve too, or did you miss that?" Ginny was still unconvinced, and she stood, planting her hands on her hips as she tossed her hair. "He's a Death Eater now, whether or not Harry was right or wrong about him being one last year."
"Good, then," Neville retorted, "It'll be practice. I'll get to start out with a junior one before we go on to the real thing at the end of the year."
"Seriously, though..." Parvati frowned, "what will you do if he tries to pull something like that? Like you said, we can't hurt him, or they'll go after Luna."
He considered it a moment, then took a deep breath. "Well, if he's slipping me notes because he hasn't told Snape and the Carrows yet and he's trying to get something for himself - either a bribe or the 'glory' of nabbing me - then if it all goes bad, they won't know where he is if he never comes out of there." He hesitated, fingering his wand nervously, then continued. "If he has told them, and they're waiting for me...well, I guess you guys will have to find somewhere else to meet, unless by some miracle, I can take all four of them. I think my odds on that are somewhere around less than nil, but if I do, or if I even just take a few and the others get away, you might have that fight on your hands tonight rather than this June."
The prospect hung in the air like a physical thing, until finally Lavender spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You mean you'd kill him and hide his body in the room?"
"No." Neville sighed. "I don't think I could kill Malfoy, not even if he was trying to turn me in. He's...well, I mean, I hate him, but he's kind of pathetic, you know? All his money and his father and his bragging and...I've just always gotten the feeling that he's trying so hard to be so big when he's really just another dumb kid like the rest of us, and I don't think I could manage the kind of loathing that you need for a Killing Curse. But if it's what we needed, the room could make us a jail cell he couldn't get out of."
"I just wish Mad-Eye were here," Seamus muttered, "he made such a darlin' ferret, and we could buy him a nice little cage with some wee tunnels to run about in and everythin'. Solve all our problems, and give us a pet besides...though I fancy he'd bite."
Parvati giggled. "Maybe when Hermione comes back, she could knit him some fetching little sweaters? With the puff balls she used to put on those silly S.P.E.W. hats...."
The delightful image of Draco Malfoy as a ferret clad in Hermione Granger's knitted atrocities was interrupted as the portrait hole opened. Colin climbed through first - a bit awkwardly with one hand still useless - and his brother followed a moment later. Dennis made his way silently to the window seat, where he began staring over the grounds expressionlessly, but Colin was shaking with anger, his cheeks burning scarlet as he stalked over to the little group by the fireplace.
His wand whipped out, and he summoned a footstool over to himself so harshly that the legs scraped over the floor with a hideous noise that made the girls clap their hands over their ears as Neville and Seamus winced. Not seeming to care, Colin flopped down on the seat, jabbing the end of the wand ferociously against the back of his unfeeling hand as he began to give them all quite the lesson in Muggle swearing.
Parvati was the first to recover enough to speak. "Colin...?"
"Went to Hospital Wing to get my hand looked at." The boy's voice was an almost unrecognizable growl. "Had to leave Dennis out in the hall because you can't go in any more unless you're being seen."
Lavender looked at him with cautious sympathy, "She can't help, then?"
"Nah, she gave me some potion, said to take it twice a day. I'll have use of it again in a few weeks, even though I might never get feeling back." He shrugged dismissively, still stabbing his wand against the stiff, pale flesh, then he looked up, and the usually gentle blue eyes were like twin chips of ice. "But when I came out, someone had attacked Dennis...blacked his eye real good. Madam Pomfrey fixed it right up, but he won't bloody say WHO!"
Ginny looked down at her feet, her voice quiet. "I was hoping he'd start talking once we were back at school."
"What's this?" Neville frowned.
"He hasn't said an effing word since we left the hotel," Colin explained caustically. "I've got my guesses - starts with Crabbe, ends with Goyle - but I want to know who I'm going to hex into the middle of next week for going after my baby brother!"
There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, then Seamus stood, shrugging off his outer robe and draping it over the back of the couch as he crossed the common room and crouched by the window seat. "Hey, lad...." He spoke gently, but Dennis made no sign of having heard anything. "We'd be real grateful if you'd tell us who hit you out there."
The boy did not so much as blink, and Seamus climbed onto the window seat beside him, leaning one long arm against the frosted panes. "Okay, then, no need to be tattlin', if you don't want to. But anythin', really. Say's you please. Go on...you can say Lynch couldn't catch the Snitch if it flew two feet up his arse, tell me to get my freckled, interferin' nose out of your business...you've just got your brother all kinds of worked up there, and it's scarin' the hell out of us, because we're used to him bein' sort of a human Pygmy Puff."
Colin shot a dirty look across the room at this, but Seamus just tossed him a friendly wink, then leaned in close to Dennis with a conspiratorial smile. "Tell you what. You say one word, and I'll make it worth your while. I've smuggled in a bit of the real good stuff - Muggle-made Irish pure - and I'll slip you a tot. Or if you'd rather, I'll work my charms and score you a kiss from that lovely Miss MacDonald you've been castin' eyes at all year. What say you?"
