Prologue -- Taken


The rain poured down with a painful force. Diagon Alley seemed to have become a ghost town, so to speak. Yet not even a ghost would brave these streets at night. Ever since the dark mark appeared over three separate shops the night Rufus Scrimgeour was murdered, not many people were willing to set foot outside their homes, let alone make a nightly visit to their favorite pub.

Yet there was one brave soul who dared to do what others considered pure lunacy. Cloaked and hooded, this dark figure passed quickly between the dark, boarded-up windows of Madam Malkin's Robes and the depressingly empty tables outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream shop as he made his way down the street. Past the mammoth building of Gringotts Bank, which now looked not unlike a deserted cathedral, and past the even darker turn towards Knockturn Alley. Finally, the figure paused outside Mr. Ollivander's shop of wands. Seeing the windows boarded, and no more than darkness within, this figure took hold of the doorknob and opened the shop door.

The shelves along the high walls, once filled to bursting with immeasurable amounts of different types of wands had been left empty in the cold shop, and the dust was thick enough to make a man choke on his breath.

The young man lowered his hood to reveal a thinning, once round face. The young man ran his hand through his brown hair and stepped past an upended chair. He remembered when he first came into this shop. Mr. Ollivander nearly ripped his hand clean off when he tried to touch that wand in the window.

He looked back to that window. Of course, the wand was no longer there. Undoubtedly, it had been taken by whomever had cleaned this shop to its bones, the faded cushion remaining along with a layer of dust.

But something caught his eye. He stepped forward and lifted the edge of the pillow to reveal a small square raised up in the dust. Touching the square, he saw it move to reveal a small hole in the windowsill. Reaching inside, he pulled a small blue velvet satchel from the its resting place. His eyes going wide, the young man slowly slipped a long, slender wand from the satchel. It was at least 15 inches, and had etchings that reminded one of vines clinging upwards. And looking upon the end of the handle, be found an elaborate, swishy engraving of the letter R.

He quickly replaced the wand inside its containment, and stowed it inside his robes. Noticing it was still in his hand, he rubbed the dust from the face of the square and from the window's rainy moonlight, he was greeted with the coughing image of Rowena Ravenclaw upon a chocolate frog trading card. He left out a gasp. Could this be the wand's previous owner?

“Do not move,� a voice hissed from behind him. He felt a wand tip stuck into the back of his neck.


***


12 Wizards and 39 Muggles Dead in Leaky Cauldron Explosion

The popular pub in downtown London has become the most recent target in the numerous attacks by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers. The attack, which occurred last Thursday afternoon, claimed the lives of 12 wizards inside the establishment as well as 39 Muggles outside. Officials say the strategically-placed curse was aimed directly at the sidewalk outside the Leaky Cauldron, causing not only the entire Muggle street and its pedestrians to be destroyed, but half of the Wizarding pub and portions of its surrounding Muggle shops.

Although the names of those killed and injured in these attacks have been withheld, pending notification of kin, rumors are circulating that among the dead is a top ministry official who has been involved with the fight against You-Know-Who. These rumors, of course, have sparked the debate as to whether this was another horrifying random attack, or an assassination.
(continued on page 4)


A copy of the Friday Prophet lay open upon the table in the Gryffindor common room, its headline emblazoned over the top. Underneath, covering nearly the whole of the front page, was a scene of sheer chaos. The street outside the Leaky Cauldron had disappeared, leaving simply a charred, painfully empty hole left in its stead.

Beside the table, in one of the common room's squashy armchairs sat a round-faced seventh year, his face sullen. He twirled the baton that was his quill between his fingers absentmindedly as students passed him back and forth, all anxiously discussing the previous day's events.

“All right, Neville?� Neville Longbottom's head jerked up out of his reverie at the sound of his name and the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. To his right stood Harry Potter, his friend Hermione Granger behind him, looking concerned. Neville hastily nodded, snatching up the newspaper from the table.

“We didn't see you at breakfast or lunch,� Hermione spoke from behind him. She had rounded Harry and was now face-to-face with him. “We were worried about you.�

“I-I'm fine,� Neville said. He let the paper fall to the other side of his chair, and out of sight. “I'm just,� he paused, “I'm just worried about my Gran. She was in London yesterday visit—� he stuttered, then cleared his throat before continuing “visiting my... My parents.� His eyes wandered to the fire beside his table, but somehow he felt even colder.

“Well, here,� Hermione said, pulling a kind of parcel from inside her robes. “I thought you'd be hungry.� Hermione opened the folded napkin to reveal a small ham sandwich, then offered it to Neville. Though he was sure she knew he would not eat it, he took it and thanked her. After a moment, Hermione smiled at him and took her seat across the table. However, before Harry took his seat, he placed a stack of two chocolate frogs on the table in front of Neville's chair.

“You can have them,� he said. “I don't feel too much like chocolate at the moment.� he then took his seat beside Hermione as the two began an attempt on their NEWT Transfiguration assignment. Neville just sat there. With a clear head, NEWT-level essays were nearly impossible. Personally, Neville couldn't care less about his remaining assignments.

He had sent a letter to his Gran as soon as he had heard what happened. She had yet to get back to him. All through that morning and early afternoon, his eyes flew from the fire to the window, then to his fingertips, then to the window again.

But now, after more time had passed, Neville began to grow restless. Before he knew it, the sandwich had gone and his fingers were tearing into one of the two chocolate frog boxes. He wasn't really hungry, but out of habit he first pulled the Famous Wizard Card from the box, the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore greeting him. He tossed the box onto the table and opened the next, not really looking at it. He was watching the various students around the common room. Some were busy in their books, others playing games.

Laughing. Not a care in the world...

Unconsciously, he pulled the next card from its place. But when he looked down upon it. A very old, white-haired man peered back at him. Perhaps it was Neville's own emotions, but he had a sad look across his face, Maybe it was the old man's sunken eyes. But it was as if he knew all the pain and turmoil the present Wizarding world was going through. Maybe this old man's time was going through the same thing. Looking below his photo, his eyes went wide. Unnoticed, Neville read the name

“Merlin...�

Leaning forward, Neville examined the small card. Merlin's photograph wiped his brow before sitting stationary once more. Looking at it, Neville let out a hallow laugh and wondered what all the fuss was about.

“You know,� he said to the card, “there was a time when I would be leaping for joy in finding you.� He took the card between his hands. “To think I was so stupid.�

For a fleeting instant, Neville wanted nothing more than to throw it in the fire. But something stopped him. A small, odd feeling in his lower abdomen. He resigned to resting his back in the squashy armchair once more, his fingers running along the edges of Merlin's card. He sat there, through dinner, dragging his fingertips along the card. All the while, his eyes glued to the windows for any sign of word.

He would have stayed that way if his fingertip hadn't caught on something. Once again, his attention focus on the card, and he found a small piece missing near the top left-hand corner. Unconsciously, he picked at it with his nail, and found a silvery material behind the paint. Leaning closer, he picked at it again, his nail coming in contact with the silvery material.

With a sudden jerk behind his naval, Neville was forcibly pulled from his comfortable seat in the Gryffindor common room.

Chapter 1 -- Giant Problem


Neville toppled head-over-heels through space as he let out a yell of shock and fear. But as suddenly as it began, it ended, and Neville hit the ground. Hard.

After a moment to gather his bearings (and his breath) it was with the air of a cornered rabbit that Neville scrambled to his feet, wand at the ready.

Fog hung low to the ground. The grass was wet and squeaked under his shoes as he started forward. Something wasn't right about this place. Neville began to grow colder than before, something he was sure he couldn't attribute to the thick, humid air. He was starting to sweat, and it was becoming difficult to hold a grip on his wand. He also could not see more than 3 meters in front of him, so there was no way to tell where he was.

He suddenly realized he was still holding the trading card of Merlin. Quickly, he lifted it up and pressed his fingernail to the silvery substance.

Nothing.

He touched it with his fingertip flesh, but again, nothing. In frustration, he pulled more paint from the card to reveal more sliver, but nothing was going to get him back.

Neville was about to sigh when he heard rustling in the grass behind him. Someone was coming his

“Lumos!�

A great roar filled the thick air as the light from Neville's wand bounced off the thick wall of fog surrounding him. Looking up, Neville saw a massive-sized, very ugly face grimaced against the bright intruder. Cracking a yellow eye open, he spotted Neville quickly, and letting out another roar, he brought his club upwards to strike.

Panicking, Neville dived between the giant's legs as the club was brought down upon the place he stood moments before. Behind him, Neville heard his pursuer let out a roar of frustration as he canceled his lighting spell and disappeared into the fog.

At some point as he ran, he had sprinted through into a forest. Before he knew it, the trees were as thick as the fog, and it became more and more difficult to navigate the woods and still keep his pace.

But as he continued running, he began to notice the fog becoming brighter, and an orange tint became visible. He slowed, then came to a stop as he heard voices beyond the trees. He moved closer to the source, and by the time he reached the end of the trees, his eyes were as wide as his dropped jaw.

Before him stood a fire the size of the great hall surrounded by three giants taller than he could have ever imagined. Slowly, the giant closest to him reached out toward him. Neville flattened himself against a nearby tree as he watched a hand the size of the common room closed upon the tree next to him and snapped it like a twig. As the hand withdrew, Neville watched as the giant used the jagged end of the tree as a toothpick. But when Neville saw a bloody human arm become dislodged from between the giant's teeth, Neville couldn't hold his legs up, and retched as soon as he hit the ground.

Terrified, he stood, wiped his mouth, and tried to apparate. But as he turned on the spot, he felt nothing. He tried again, but did not feel the welcome discomfort of being squeezed through a close-fitting tube. He failed twice more before he heard something behind him.

The young giant that had chased him earlier was approaching, carrying a large amount of uprooted trees. Looking around, Neville quickly realized he had nowhere to run. He knew after seeing Hagrid from their astronomy OWL two years ago that he would never be able to fight even the smallest giant alone.

Neville looked back toward the adult giants, trying to think of what to do. His eyes fell toward their feet, and it was there he saw their firewood supply. Hundreds of trees intended to supply their fire for the night sat next to the closest giant's foot and went nearly to the other side of the path.

He threw caution to the wind and sprinted from his cover toward the pile of trees. Seeing a space in the shrubs, he dived, and landed hard on a bit of earth between the vast tree trunks. No sooner did Neville hear the young giant come through from the forest, yelling. Whatever he was saying, the three adults started to bicker amongst themselves. Then, after a few minutes of hostility, the closest giant took his collection of firewood and threw it on the pile before he and the other two followed the young giant away from the fire and past the trees.

Neville couldn't believe his luck. Soon, the crackling of the massive fire became the only sound to be heard in the thick, smoky air. Slowly and quietly, Neville made his way through the brush and timber and came out next to the fire. He had to force himself to stifle another heave as he saw bits of bones and charred clothes in the fire. Taking a deep breath, he ran along the edge of the fire and into the woods on the other side.

Neville ran as hard and as fast as he could. He ran through fog, through woods, leaves and branches cutting his skin. He ran until he breathed fire and his veins pumped a corrosive liquid through his body as it boiled over from his heart and into his throat.

He tripped over a root, and as his face hit the ground, the acid in his belly burned up to his mouth and spilled upon the ground. But the fear fueled him, and he stood and just ran even more.

But as he reached the end of the woods, he stopped. His breaths coming in frantic gasps, he looked over the hill, and saw the light of a pub in the distance. Neville looked around and saw a crossroad 30 meters away, and as he came closer, he was able to read the sign above.

Little Hangleton -- 1 kilometer.

***

“May I have a glass of water, please?�

The barkeep stared at him as if he's never seen someone with ripped robes, scratched cheeks, a fat lip and vomit on his shirt. Setting a strange black object upon the counter, the man behind the bar pulled a glass from underneath and placed it under what looked like a hook. As soon as he did, the glass pressed against an odd blue lever, making water came from the tip of the hook to fill the glass.

Neville looked around. This certainly was a strange place. Not a single man wore robes. Men in trousers and jumpers, one man nearby in a wool cap. A sound that reminded Neville of a Quidditch match filled the air, and half the pub stood and cheered. Looking toward the direction of their cheers, Neville was greeted with a very odd sight indeed.

Upon a box hanging in the corner of the room was the moving portrait of a young man running along grass and into a giant net. He watched as he took a small white ball from another man's hands, which were encased in large gloves. But it was when he saw the image change, instantly, that he realized what he was staring at. Something he'd never seen before and only had heard about from Dean Thomas and Hermione Granger. A television set.

And then it dawned on him. He was in a muggle bar.

“Excuse me,� he said to the barman, “I'm sorry, where's the bathroom?� The man lifted his eyes lazily toward him and gestured to the opposite corner of the pub. Neville downed half the glass of water and walked quickly toward the restroom.

Once inside, he rushed into the nearest stall and stripped his robes. No sooner had he removed his Gryffindor tie did he hear the bathroom door open again.

“I don't understand what you see in that sport,� a voice said, “if you can call it that.�

“Hey,� a second voice retorted, “you show me one Quidditch player that can curl a shot like that, with his foot, no less, then you can argue all you want.� Neville heard a faucet turn on. “I noticed the giants on the move.�

“No doubt they picked up Potter,� the first voice said menacingly. “The Portkey was activated not too long ago, and Potter wouldn't stand a chance against those giants.�

Neville realized he was holding his breath.

“So where is the wand?� the second voice asked.

“Where else?� said the first. “Ollivander's.�

“Didn't Crabbe and Goyle clean it out?� the second voice asked.

“They did,� the first voice answered, “but when do you expect those two to do anything right?�

“Good point.� The running water was silenced. “So when do we go search it?�

“Tonight,� said the first. “And we're going through Knockturn Alley, I don't want to have to sift through the mess you made with that blasting charm yesterday.�

Neville's head looked up quickly.

“Oh, leave it,� the second voice whined, but the first continued.

“Now I don't care how many Muggles you kill,� he said, “but you need to know how to perform delicate operations. You can't just go around blowing up streets, even if it is good fun.

“Alright!� the second sighed

“Alright,� the first agreed, then said, “Are you ready?�

“Well, let's finish the match first,� the second said, then after a pause said, “It's the 47th minute! We can wait a bit. I mean, who else will be digging through Ollivander's this time of night?�

“Fine,� the first voice sighed. “But you're buying me a pint.�

“My pleasure,� the second voice said as the door opened and closed.

Neville's mind raced. Those men had tried to kill Harry. And if he hadn't given Neville the chocolate frogs, they might have succeeded.

And they might have... His Gran... Neville's heart stopped momentarily before he caught his breath once more, willing himself to think. They were also after a wand. But which wand? How would Neville even know where in the store

With a deep breath he knew what he had to do. He would have to go back to Hogwarts and tell Harry and Professor McGonagall what happened. They would know what to do.

“Now what was that stupid system?� he thought aloud. “Three D's... Oh, to hell with it!� He focused as completely on Hogsmeade as he could, then stood and turned on the spot, a loud crack filling the bathroom.

Chapter 2 -- Below Hogwarts


“So,� Harry said, “They're after a wand.�

“That's what he said,� Neville answered, wincing. Upon arriving at Hogsmeade, he noticed his left middle finger missing. However, after an ingenious summoning charm from Harry, Madam Pomfrey was now in the process of reattaching it.

“But Ollivander's must have a million wands,� Harry retorted. “How would anyone know which to take, unless they knew where it was?

“I told you, Harry,� Neville said, frustrated. “After Ollivander was kidnapped, his shop was cleared out. And because they didn't find it last time, they're going to check again later tonight.�

“How much later?� Professor McGonagall said from behind him. Neville looked down to his right wrist.

“27 minutes from now,� he sighed.

“Well, then,� McGonagall said slowly. “I wonder if this really is something we should worry about.�

“Why not?� Harry asked immediately. McGonagall eyed him carefully as Madam Pomfrey made her way back to her desk.

“Well, Harry,� McGonagall began, soberly “what's the use of sending one or some of our allies to an empty shop, to look for something that might not even be there, which might even be nothing more then an ambush in the first place?� Harry said nothing.

“Well, they didn't see me,� Neville retorted. “So how could it be an ambush if they don't know we're coming? I mean, I get dragged out away from everything, I get chased by giants... Do you understand? They want something! Death Eaters want something that we have a chance to get first, and you won't let anyone go because it's too much of a risk? Then I'll go myself!�

“I'm sorry, Neville,� McGonagall said, “I truly am. You've been through enough today, and—�

SLAM!

Neville's fist landed hard on his bedside table, startling Madam Pomfrey across the room. Feeling the sting creep up to his fingers, he opened his fist to drop his Merlin card upon the table.

“If it weren't for this damn card, I'd be in bed right now,� he said. “But if I know that they need something, that Death Eaters need something, I'm not going to let them get it.� He looked at the Evening Prophet lying on the sheets two beds away, Rufus Scrimgeour's picture across the front page. “Or I'm going to die trying.�

“Neville,� Harry said. Neville looked up. “Can you go as soon as possible?� McGonagall began to protest, but Neville stood.

“I can go now if you need me to,� he replied, bending the newly-attached finger on his left hand. He turned toward Professor McGonagall. “I'm sorry, Professor. I have to go.�

Neville took his cloak as Harry gave him his instructions upon his return. After that, he said his goodbyes and quickly walked toward the door. But before he could leave he heard his name being called out again.

“Neville,� McGonagall called. He turned to see her walking up to him. She put her hands on his shoulders, and in a maternal voice whispered, “Please don't go past the Leaky Cauldron.� After a moment, Neville nodded, and then continued onward.

Harry, still standing by Neville's bed wandered a few steps away toward the bed with the Evening Prophet. It was then that he saw the headline.

Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour killed in Leaky Cauldron explosion.


***


“Do not move,� a voice hissed from behind him. Neville felt a wand tip stuck into the back of his neck. “You'd do well to give me that, young man,� the voice said. “You have no idea what I've done to get it.�

“You have no idea what the hell I've been through,� Neville growled in response. “And you'd do well to lower your wand.�

“Not bloody likely,� the voice spat. “Now give it to me!�

He paused.

“Fine.

In a flash, he spun around and tossed the card toward his attacker. In his opponent's haste to catch it, Neville used his momentum to spin into an escape. The last thing Neville heard before he was shoved through the tight-fitting tube was a violent scream of frustration. That scream was quickly silenced, and before long, Neville found himself on his knees in the

“I am never going to get used to that,� he groaned.

Looking up, Neville found himself just outside the Hogwarts gates. Following Harry's instructions from earlier, he did not enter, but moved to the right along the stone wall bordering the grounds. After about fifty meters, Neville came to a large pile of rubble stacked along the wall, as if some Muggles had devised a poor plan to scale it. Moving in front of it, Neville recalled the incantation Harry told him before. He raised his wand.

“Attero!� he called out. Slowly, the rocks moved away to reveal a long tunnel that led straight into the wall. Taking a deep breath, Neville walked forward, the rocks moving back to their place once inside.

“Lumos!� he said quietly. He did not like small spaces. They always made him very nervous, and his chest would always tighten up as a result.

On the way down, he began to wonder why the Death Eaters would have wanted this wand. Sure, it was a founder's wand, so it had to have some magical power, but was there something more to it? Did it have special powers a normal wand wouldn't? Neville saw a light up ahead and canceled his lighting spell as he drew nearer.

“I hope he's alright,� he heard the voice of Hermione Granger say through a doorway at the top of a spiraling staircase. Slowly, he began to climb each stair as he listened intently. “You really think the wand might be a Horcrux, Harry?�

“It's the only lead we've got in a long time,� He heard the voice of Harry. “Not since the locket we found at headquarters.�

“Yeah, well I'll believe it when I see it,� he heard Ron Weasley say skeptically.

“But what if it is, Ron?�

“I know, Harry,� he heard Ron answer, “but what if it's just another trap, and you just sent Neville as... I dunno, bait.

“I think Harry deserves more credit than that,� Neville heard Hermione's voice say acidly. “And Neville, too.�

“You really think that Neville would stand a chance against two Death Eaters?� Ron retorted. Neville felt his chest burn.

“Yes, I do, Ronald.� Hermione spat

“Ron,� Harry said quickly, “when you take the Cruciatus Curse from Bellatrix LeStrange and are still standing to fight afterwards, then you can say who stands a chance against who.�

There was an awkward silence as the only sound Neville could have heard was the sound of his footsteps.

“I wish I didn't have to tell him,� He heard Harry break the silence. “You know, about his Gran.� Neville stopped in his tracks, his right foot a step higher than his left.

“Who else does he have?� He heard Hermione Granger ask. “He must have some other family around.�

“No, it was just his grandmother,� Harry said solemnly. Neville felt his stomach bottom out. Slowly, however, he found himself still moving up the stairs once more.

Neville was just outside the door now. He could see Hermione's back to him, her mane of bushy hair tied back in a barely controlled ponytail. In front of her, Neville saw as he entered the room, was Ron. His ears had turned a dark shade of red, and only grew redder as he saw Neville had returned.

“Neville!� He found himself tackled into an embrace from Hermione, before she swiftly pulled back to look at him. “Are you alright?�

“Yes, I'm fine,� he said.

“Did you get the wand?� Harry asked. Neville nodded, to which Harry asked him, “Do you know who's wand it is?

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,� Neville replied. But seeing their anxious faces, replied, “Ravenclaw's.�

“Rowena Ravenclaw?� Hermione asked breathlessly before Harry asked to see it. Pulling the satchel from his robes, Neville slid the wand from it's containment and showed it to Harry

“I'll take that,� a voice said from behind them. With the rage boiling within him, Neville realized he knew that voice. It was the voice he heard in the pub earlier. The voice of the Death Eater who attacked the Leaky Cauldron. The voice of the... thing... that killed his Gran.

“Who are you?� Ron said defensively, stepping in front of Hermione.

“Well, I don't think it's in your business to know that,� Neville heard the other voice say. Neville slipped the wand back in it's satchel.

“All we want,� he said as Neville, standing as still as possible, withdrew his own wand, “ is the nice little wand you've got and we'll just leave you four to go about your business.�

“Not bloody likely,� Ron said, raising his wand as Neville turned to face the two Death Eaters. “It's four against two, so I don't think you're in the right spot to be telling us what to do.�

“Oh, I beg to differ,� The man on the right said. He had a long scar along the side of his face, and the closer eye was whited over. “I was under the impression it was two against three.� he then took advantage of their fleeting confusion.

“Avada Kedavra!� he yelled, his wand directed a Ron. Instantly, a jet of green light flew from the tip of his wand hit him square in the chest. With a look of frightened surprise, Ron's last sight was of a horrified Hermione before he fell to a crumpled heap on the floor.

“RON!� Hermione shrieked before falling to his side, sobbing. Without thinking, Neville took his wand and raised it at Ron's killer.

“Reducto!� he screamed. The curse hit the man in the face, and flew out the door and over the railing of the stairs, a trail of blood streaming from his face. Neville heard his yell suddenly silence as a sickening thud was heard.

But before anyone had a chance to react, the other Death Eater had pulled Hermione to her feet, his arm around her throat, his wand at her temple.

“Are you going to give me the wand, or do you want another friend to die?� The blonde Death Eater said. Neville matched the voice. It was the one he heard earlier. The one who attacked Diagon Alley.

Suddenly, Hermione bit the Death Eater's hand, and slipped from his grip.

“Stupefy!� Harry screamed.

“Protego!� Harry's spell bounced off lightly before he made a long slashing movement. Before he could react, a long purple flame entered Harry's body and he fell to the floor.

“Harry!� Neville yelled.

“Expelliarmus!� The satchel flew from Neville's hand and the Death Eater caught it in midair. Neville threw a stunning spell at him, but hit the doorway, blowing a chunk of the wall to pieces.

Neville let a stream of curses escape his mouth. Without thinking, Neville ran from the room, taking the stairs three at a time, and jumping the last five. He saw the one he had cursed from the room laying still on the bloodstained ground beside the stairs before sprinting after his grandmother's killer.

Slowly, he managed to pick up the sound of running footsteps as he drew nearer to his foe. It was another ten seconds, though, before he caught sight of him in the long tunnel.

“Stupefy!� He yelled, but he cast the spell off-balance and it hit the wall next to him. Looking back through the dust, his opponent found Neville alone, and turned to fight.

“Aw,� he said, “Did I hurt your little friends?�

“Petrificus to—�

“Protego!� he blocked the spell easily. “Word of advice, lad. Use shorter spells!�

“Stupefy!� he yelled in retort, but his opponent blocked the shot again and drew nearer. Without a word, he swung his wand upward. Instantly, Neville was thrown from his feet and with a painful crunch landed on his ankle.

“It's a shame,� he said as Neville tried desperately to pull himself away. “Bellatrix wanted to be the one to finish you off. But I suppose,� he pointed his wand at his heart, “she'll have to settle for some other brat. Perhaps she can take that girl that was up there with you.�

“STUPEFY!� Neville screamed, but his voice was not the only one. With the power of the second stunning spell, the Death Eater's protective spell was broken, and he was thrown to the ground, unconscious.

Lifting himself to his elbows, Neville looked back and saw Hermione, her wand aloft, her eyes tear-streaked and bloodshot.

Epilogue -- Moving On


“So, Neville,� Harry said, wincing and holding his chest, “We think that the wand might be a Horcrux.�

It's been six days since Ron was killed. Seven since the attack on the Leaky Cauldron. Neville's mind was racing. He knew he wanted to be in the Order, but there was so much he never even imagined. The thought of splitting your soul into separate pieces was an idea too frightening for Neville to even imagine.

They were in the Hospital Wing. Before him was Harry, sitting up in his bed, next to Hermione, ever still puffy-eyed and silent.

“You knew this the whole time?� Neville asked. Harry nodded through a sigh.

“But you see,� Harry continued, “the diary, the ring and the locket have all been destroyed. If this is another one, all we have to find is Hufflepuff's cup, then all that's left is his snake, and then him!�

“Well, how can we tell if it is or not?� Neville asked.

“We usually ask Dumbledore,� Hermione said weakly. Neville's eyes went wide.

“Dumbledore?�

“Yes,� Harry said quickly, “there's a portrait of him hanging in the Headmaster's office.�

“And because a portrait can give information that its occupant knows, even if they're dead,� Hermione continued, “Dumbledore's portrait has been able to tell us how to test everything we find.�

Neville sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“What happened to the two Death Eaters?� Harry asked.

“One of them was the one who attacked the Leaky Cauldron,� Neville said, Hermione and Harry glancing at each other. “He's being held at Azkaban for questioning. The other one – the one who... who killed Ron – He's dead.�

Hermione let her tears fall silently from her face. Harry said nothing.

Ron's funeral would be in the next few days, though Neville had no idea where. He wasn't in a place to ask. Looking at the two of them, Neville could see how much the loss affected them. It was as if they were incomplete. It wasn't as if a friend had been lost; it wasn't even like someone they loved was gone. It was a part of themselves that had gone. Something had gone missing behind their eyes. Feeling a sharp jab in his abdomen, Neville wondered if something had gone missing from inside of him as well.

His Grandmother's funeral had been the day before. He thought he had been afraid of the woman for most of his life, but if there was one thing he felt for her, it was respect. She raised him, looked after him, and did so with as much love as she could. Looking back on it, he realized she knew the things that meant the most to him. The most obvious was the fact that every Christmas was spent at St. Mungo's, despite the fact that she hated to see her son in that way. She was proud, of course, but it caused her more pain than she would ever let on.

But she knew what it meant to me, he thought, to see them at Christmas.

He didn't notice when he had stood and began to walk from the Hospital Wing, but when his arm raised itself to open the door his mind found reality again. He slipped quickly out the door, leaned his back to the wall outside, and in the empty corridor slid the length of it down until he sat on the floor, his eyes burning.

He hadn't noticed the doors open after him, but not long after he left, Neville felt a pair of small arms surround him. He vaguely noticed that Hermione had pulled him into an embrace. He also felt a wet spot on his shirt as he realized his eyes had blurred and grown hot. He wrapped his arms around her as he felt his own tears fall into her wild bushy hair.

Neville wasn't sure how long they stayed that way. It wasn't until they heard the sounds of hushed sobs mingled with hurried footsteps down the next corridor that they stood. Hermione had just dried her eyes when the remaining Weasleys rounded the corner. The woman Neville guessed was Molly Weasley, Ron's mother rushed forward to Hermione, bursting to tears along the way. It surprised Neville, however, that Hermione was not crying with her. Perhaps she just didn't have any tears left.

Neville then looked at the amount of tear-streaked sullen faces. Two older brothers with noticeably scarred faces, one accompanied by a beautiful wife gasping tears. Beside them stood the twins Fred and George, both trying to support Ron's younger sister Ginny.

Mrs. Weasley was saying something to Hermione through her tears, Mr. Weasley doing his best to hold his wife – and himself – steady. Through this, Neville's mind stirred. He suddenly felt like he was intruding on something he shouldn't be a part of.

Without really thinking about it, Neville began to walk away. He wasn't sure where he was going; perhaps to the Gryffindor common room. Maybe the Astronomy Tower. Before he could even decide, he felt the arm of his robes pull back from him.

Neville turned and found Hermione again, this time she spoke in not a whisper, but a much stronger voice, albeit unsteady.

“Where are you going?� she asked. Neville couldn't answer. There was a small hole forming in the bottom of his abdomen.

“I just...� he began, “thought you lot wanted to be alone.� Hermione blinked, a confused look on her face. Neville sighed apologetically. He didn't know what to do at all.

“Neville,� Hermione said, “you don't have to do anything. You don't have to say anything at all if you don't want to.� She took his hand. “Would you please stay with us?�

Neville said nothing. He felt a long burn run from the hole in his stomach up his esophagus to his throat, then let it out in a long breath. He realized he was being led back to the Hospital Wing. Before he knew it, he was being pulled into the first hug Mrs. Weasley had ever given him.

He fell back into the chair he had vacated before, and felt Hermione's hand rest upon his shoulder as she handed him a glass of water before she resumed her place next to Harry. Neville knew he had a lot to do ahead of him. He needed to find a place to live, maybe a job. It would be a lot harder without Gran. But Neville resigned to the fact that all he needed right now was a drink of water.

Looking up, he met Hermione's eyes one last time, and took a sip.