"So you still haven't told her?" Ginny sighed over the hissing wind. The black waves beneath her crashed as anxiety slowly crept into her chest. Flying her broom beside Neville's, she held out a bar of chocolate.

With a weak smile, he snapped off a piece and shoved it in his mouth. "Wha- what do you mean?"

"Luna. You haven't told her yet."

"Oh. That."

"Yes, that. Why the hell not?" Lifting her eyebrows, Ginny took a large bite of the chocolate. They were approaching Azkaban. She could feel it. Every cell in her body was tense and a heavy cloak of hopelessness surrounded her.

"Well, I started to, but...is this really the time?"

"Talking helps to lessen the dementor's effect, Hermione told me. So yeah, I'd say its a perfect time."

"Two minutes! Drop all excess transportation and cast your disillusionment charms!" Robin's voice rang out from ahead of them.

Without missing a beat, Ginny jumped from the seat of her broom and landed behind Neville. Quickly, she secured her broom to the bottom of his. Then, holding tight to his shoulders, she drew wand and began to spin it above the two of them, as if twirling a rope. After saying the incantation, the sensation of a raw egg being cracked on her head came. Shuddering, she looked down. It worked. They were camouflaged seamlessly to their surroundings.

"Brilliant!" Neville cheered her.

The broom suddenly dropped down, forcing her to grip his shoulders tighter. "Bloody hell!"

"Er, sorry! Should've warned you." He stuttered.

"Yes, that would've been nice." She wanted to laugh dryly, but her ability to see humor was slowly draining. Attempting to push aside her nerves, she continued, "I believe you were about to tell me your excuse for not confessing your love?"

He sighed, steering the broom around a jagged rock. "Like I said, I wanted to."

"But-?"

"But she...I don't think she feels the same way."

"No offense, but that's a load of rubbish. Have you seen the way she looks at you-Oh, Merlin's sake, Neville! Look out!"

Swerving narrowly, they barely missed another massive boulder. "Bloody billywig..." He breathed shakily. "Er, sorry about that. But you really think she- I mean, as more than a friend-"

"It's pretty damn obvious..." Her voice trailed off. There was a horrible, desperate cry from somewhere in the distance, followed by the crack of a curse. Then more wailing. Panicked, she exclaimed, "Do you hear that noise?"

Neville flinched, rubbing his ear. "No, what noise?"

The sound grew worse, echoing in her head. "How do you not hear that?" Anxiety was gradually taking over. Her stomach twisted and a cold sweat broke out over her body.

"I really don't-wait. Eat some chocolate, Ginny!"

"What? No, I don't want-"

"It's the bloody dementors! They're effecting you. Eat. Now."

Frustrated, she put the last of the candy on her tongue. After a moment, she began to feel slightly better and the cries dulled.

"Look alive! We're almost there! Draw your wands and be ready to cast your patronuses." Robin shouted from ahead. They could no longer see him, Seamus, or Charlie as they had all cast their disillusionment charms.

"Well, good luck in there." Gripping his wand, Neville sat up straight.

"You too. And when we get back, you are talking to Luna."

"Sure, if I still have a soul."

"Ah, thank you for that bit of optimism. Very encouraging." Even with the chocolate, she couldn't find it in herself to laugh along with the sarcasm.

"Only joking, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Alright, ready?" Charlie's voice came from right beside them this time. "Remember, when we cast our patronuses the dementors will know that we're here. They're going to come swarming out of there like a hive of wasps. Me and Rob will handle them. I want you two and Seamus to infiltrate the prison while they're occupied. Got it?"

Ginny nodded. Then, remembering that she was camouflaged to the scenery, she added, "Yeah, got it."

"Good. Alright, ready?" Charlie's voice grew further away.

"Ready!" Robin shouted from off to the left somewhere. "Expecto Patronum!" Without delay, a small, silver bird appeared.

The rest of the group repeated the charm. Ginny's horse and Neville's non-corporeal burst from the tip of their wands. They were soon joined by Seamus's fox and Charlie's Swedish short-snout dragon.

And sure enough, a thick, dark cloud of dementors came pouring out of the fortress. They swallowed up the view of the jagged rocks, which had glinted like newly sharpened pocketknives.

"Hold on tight!" Neville shouted, a strained air of panic in his voice. "Seamus?"

"Already ahead of you!" The other boy's words rang out.

And with that, the trio descended into the prison.

The weight on Ron's head on her leg helped Hermione sleep through the night. Though, in no way was her rest without problems. It was as if each time she closed her eyes, she relived the events of the day. Ron's piercing screams, the blood seeping from scars which would forever mark his body, Umbridge's delighted giggle, and Draco, standing like a stone pillar. It was all fresh in her mind like a picked scab. And the silence only made it worse. After grasping at what little slumber would pass her, she had finally awoken, to find the cell completely empty but for her and Ron.

Upon feeling the Weasley boy begin to move, she looked down at him.

"Morning." She sighed, carefully pushing his hair out of his face.

Confusion and panic assumed his eyes. "Yeah..." A quiet, sharp gasp escaped his lips as he attempted to sit up. "Bloody hell-"

"No, don't try to move yet!" Hermione scolded tenderly, "How do you feel?"

"...like rubbish." He grumbled.

Without warning, Draco apparated in front of them. Stiffly, he dropped a bowl of discolored water and a rag on the ground. "Wash your wounds." His voice came through a clenched jaw.

"You son of a-" Ron rasped, lunging forward. But instantly, he crumpled onto the ground, whimpering in pain, as the cuts opened cleanly.

"Get the hell out of here, Malfoy." Hermione hissed. But, rather than glaring, she stared determinedly at his face. There was something off about his countenance. Maybe it was just the guilt of having betrayed them to save his own neck. But the pale skin and panic behind his eyes suggested otherwise. Though, at the moment, she didn't particularly care.

"...Headmistress Umbridge...will be...back..." With a trembling hand, he drew a piece of bread from his pocked and tossed it to the ground with a stale thump, before disapparating.

A moment of silence passed.

"Ron, come here." Hermione sighed, dipping the cloth in the water.

Crawling her her side, Ron rose onto his knees. With an aching grunt, he peeled his shirt off of his back, which was crusted with rusty blood.

Grimacing at the throbbing cuts, her eyes reluctantly made out the words some of them spelled. Mostly pleas for Umbridge to stop, and Ron's own name. And the terrible moments when she had managed to stay silent, the bracelet had just etched random slices into his flesh. "I'm not going to lie, this will hurt." She warned, ringing out the excess liquid.

"Just do it." He croaked, a heavy air of defeat in his tone.

Nervously, she reached out and touched the rag to his shoulder. He hunched forward with a sharp breath. "Ron...I need to clean out the wounds. Should they get infected, it will be far more painful. So...please-"

"I know. I trust you." Touching her hand, he gave a weak smile over his shoulder.

With a deep sigh, she nodded. "Alright."

If fear itself had a scent, that was the aroma which clung to the walls of Azkaban. Fear and death, intertwined with the rusty musk of blood and mildew's cloying sweetness. Neville walked carefully, avoiding the glossy, mold slicked stone tiles, for fear of falling. His knees shook subtly as the dementors effect took hold of him. Biting his lip, he could hear Ginny breath slowly and mutter something about Harry.

"Alright, you know what to do. Free everyone and send 'em to the side of the cliffs-" Seamus began.

"...where Rob and Charlie will be waiting with the extra brooms. I know." Ginny whispered back shakily.

"Do you reckon we should split up?" Neville asked, glancing into an empty cell.

"Don't think it matters." Stepping onto the cracked stairs, Ginny drew her wand and cast her Patronus. The bright, silvery horse galloped into the dark prison. They had dropped the disillusionment charms when they got inside, allowing the prisoners to see them, but unfortunately, also making them much easier targets for dementors.

There was a broken clap of thunder.

"Damn, it would storm, wouldn't it?" Groaned Seamus.

Neville shuddered, feeling the cool air enwrap them as they descended down the steps.

The moment they reached the bottom, Ginny stepped ahead. "Hello, then? Anyone here?" The confidence in her voice was brittle. After a moment of silence, a Dementor appeared. It's faceless head and cobweb-like body were far more grotesque up close. With a gasp, she fell to her knees.

"Expecto Patronum!" Neville shouted, rushing forward. Watching the burst of silver shoot towards it, his heart pounded in his ears. Instantly, the creature reeled back and rapidly glided away.

Ginny sat on the floor, panting.

"You alright, Ginny?" Seamus crouched down beside her.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine." Accepting his hand, she rose shakily.

Neville drew a bar of chocolate from his pocket and gave it to her. His own breath was heavy from shock. "Here."

"Thanks." Smiling ruefully, she shoved it into her mouth.

"Who...who's there?" A weak voice called out from the cell ahead of them.

"Sorry?" Neville asked, turning to Ginny.

"Wasn't me." Crossing her arms, she squinted into the darkness. "Who said that?"

"Are...are you Death Eaters?" The voice whimpered again.

"Dean?" Seamus breathed, stepping backwards. Then, he ran to the door. "Oh Merlin! S'that you, mate?"

Neville and Ginny hurried after him.

"Seamus?" Slowly, the form of a tall young man rose from the shadowy corner.

Without hesitation, Seamus ran forward and pulled his friend into a tight hug. "I thought you were dead!"

Returning the embrace feebly, Dean looked over at Neville and Ginny. "I thought you were...were Death Eaters-"

"We're here t'break you out, mate." Securing the other boy's arm around his shoulder, Seamus helped him limp out of the cell. Neville could see the tears streaking his face. "I'll take care of everyone up here. Can you lot get the others?"

Ginny nodded. "Sure. Stay safe."

Neville handed Dean chocolate. And together, the pair sprinted down the next gloomy staircase.

It took nearly a half hour to ward off the swamps of dementors and send the almost fifty prisoners to the cliffs. They were all shaken and panicked; wondering what was happening and distant. Neville had come close to running out of chocolate and decided to save it for the children. Ginny could feel herself growing paler by the minute.

After a moment, he touched her shoulder. "Er, are you worried about your parents?"

With a tight nod, she helped an elderly witch stand up. Her stomach twisted as she scanned the group of prisoners.

"Well, there's still one level left. I'm sure they're here." He comforted, handing a little boy a half piece of candy.

Tucking her wand into her belt, she started down the steps. "Ron thinks they're dead."

"Oh..." He sighed, scratching his neck.

"But Ron jumps to conclusions too damn quickly."

Neville nodded, stopping in the door of the first stone cell. "Hello? We're here to get you out. Can you walk?"

There was a quiet reply, but no familiar voices. Ginny's shoulders sagged as she counted off the people. None of them were her family. "I'm going to move on, alright?"

"Go ahead." Picking up a small child, Neville gave her a reassuring smile.

Without hesitation, she ran down the hall, stopping to look in each cell.

No. Empty. No. No. Empty.

Finally, she reached the last cell. "Oi, we're here to-"

A broken voice rang out. "Ginny? What-"

"George?" She breathed, entering the cell.

"What's left of me."

Running to him, she felt warm relief calm her nerves. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she noticed how thin he'd grown. His cloths hung loose on his skeletal body. "Bloody hell, are you alright?"

"I mean, as alright as a bloke can be in Azkaban." There was a touch of humor in his trembling voice, comforting her like a candle in a dark room. "Mum and dad will be so happy-"

"They're here too?" Turning, she saw two bodies in the corner. Instantly, she went cold. "Are they-"

"-alive. Sleeping, though. Sleep here's different. Hard to wake up."

She felt a pang as she saw the dark shadow cross his eyes; he seemed so much older. Like an elderly war veteran, unable to see things without recalling the horrors they'd been through.

"Should we wake them?"

"They'll be in shock for a bit after. Best let them wake up naturally. You have anyone here with you? Someone who could carry one of them?"

"Oh...oh! Yeah, Neville. And Seamus, Robin, and Charlie!"

"Charlie's alive? Bloody brilliant!"

"So are Ron, Bill, and Percy." The moment the words were out, she felt a bitter pang for Fred.

George, it seemed, had the same thought. Crossing his arms, his eyes fell to the floor.

"I...I'm so glad you're safe." She smiled weakly, touching his hand. Then, she leaned out of the door. "Neville! Can you come here?"

"You've been most helpful. Thank you, dear." Umbridge smiled sickly, dragging Draco by the arm down the dimly lit hallway. "And I'm sure the Dark Lord has many more plans for you. Enjoy your rest!" Opening a closet, she roughly pushed him in. Then, she slammed the door and locked it, leaving him alone on the dusty floor.

He lay numbly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Although, there wasn't much of a point, as there was nothing left for him to do. His own free will had been stripped away, leaving him a puppet. It figured that the one time he'd officially chosen a side and acted selflessly, the whole thing went to hell. If he hadn't volunteered to go with Ron and Hermione, they wouldn't be bleeding out in the cellar.

Draco's stomach turned, imagining what else the Dark Lord would use him for. It was then that he realized something horrific. Whatever he was forced to do, it would be designed to inflict pain upon himself. There was no reason for Lord Voldemort to keep him alive, except for his own twisted enjoyment; to torture the only Malfoy left. With a shaky breath, he felt a cold sweat break out over his body. Sitting up, he looked around the stuffy room. There was an empty shelf in the corner, covered in a spectral layer of greying dust. The carpet was blurred with mildew and a pile of old paintings from the hall leaned against the wall. A broken vase was atop the shelves, holding the dried skeletons of what had once been flowers.

Coughing from the stuffy fumes, Draco propped himself against the back wall and bit his lip. As a cloud of hopelessness sunk into his chest, dark thoughts began to pour into his head. He wished Umbridge would order him to kill himself. At least that way, he wouldn't do anything else destructive. And he was sure that more people would celebrate his death, than morn him. But that was precisely why he was being kept alive. Voldemort knew that death would be a favor, so life was his punishment; watching while anyone who had ever earned his good opinion suffered. And, knowing the Dark Lord, it would be by his own hands.

Closing his eyes, Draco curled into a fetal position, and begged for the sleep that never came.

Neville sat beside Luna on the edge of the small cave. It was the one they had been in the first time he'd attempted to tell her how he felt. From the ledge, he could see the Weasleys huddled together. Mr. and Mrs. had awoken upon their arrival and, despite their shock, were already trying to help out with cooking and caring for children. While he was immensely glad for Ginny, it gave him a pang for his parents and grandmother.

After treating prisoners, Luna had joined Neville, both to his excitement and terror. She was currently swinging her feet over the edge and smiling mildly at the floating candles. And Merlin's beard, she looked lovely. So exhausted was Neville that he almost said as much, but pressed his lips together to resist the words.

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask! Was the dementor's effect worse than it had been before?" Luna said suddenly, her high, vague voice clouded in concern.

"Er, I don't think so. For me, anyway." Blushing, he tried to sound confident. Although, once the words were out, he was positive he sounded panicked, rather than self-assured.

"That's very good, Neville! I'm glad for you. I was quite worried, you know."

After taking a moment to process the fact that she had worried about him, he glanced at her, hiding his grin. "Why-how come you thought it'd be worse this time?"

"Well, dementors can make you hear things, horrible things, that you've experienced. And I suppose since so many of us lost friends in the battle, it gave a lot more people bad memories." She spoke matter-of-factly, twisting her hair back with her wand.

Nodding, Neville grimaced slightly. He hadn't thought of that. It certainly explained Ginny's reaction, though. Trying to change the subject to something less painful, he asked, "So, do you think Ron and Hermione can trust Draco?"

"Oh yes. I can tell. He genuinely wanted to help them." She smiled serenely, leaning back on her elbows.

Jealously slowly poured into his chest, like ice water. Letting out a breath, he stared at his feet. "So, you...y'like him, then?"

"Hm..." Pursing her lips, she let her gaze fall softly to the cave ceiling. "I don't know. Do you suppose you can trust someone, without really liking them?"

"I reckon. But...d-do you like him, like, like, like him?"

"You mean, do I love him?" She cocked her head, making her hair fall out of the bun it had been twisted into.

Heart sinking, Neville nodded.

"Oh no! That's a rather silly thing to suggest." She laughed, her dainty nose wrinkling in mirth. Running her fingers through her long hair, she let it gently drape her shoulders.

Never had he been so ecstatic to hear something in his life. "Good." He breathed. Then, realizing that he had said it out loud, he panicked. "I mean, because he's not...I mean, he wouldn't make...you and him..."

"He's not the sort of person I could be in love with. He's quite...normal. I could never love someone who saw the world in such an average way."

Neville began to wonder about the way that he saw the world.

"...and he also thinks I'm strange, but not the good sort." Luna added with an amused smile.

"I don't think you're strange! I think you're...interesting." He blushed at his own boldness.

"Oh, thank you, Neville!" Turning, she beamed at him. "That is a very nice thing to say. I think you are interesting too!"

"No, I..."

"Yes you are." Forehead creasing, she took his hand, giving him what felt like a minor heart attack. "You are one of the most interesting people I know."

Eyebrows drawing together in longing, his gaze met her's. It was now or never. He was going to tell her. "Luna, I-"

"Oh, that reminds me! While you were away Viktor Krumb came to the cave."

"Er, that's, erm-" Neville began to deflate.

"I thought you'd like to know, as he had been at a different shelter, the one where they took the St. Mungo's patients. Anyway, I asked about your parents and he said they are doing well."

His heart instantly jumped. Never before had Neville felt such a strong rush of affection for someone. In that moment, he could have kissed her (he certainly would have liked to) but second guessed himself. Impulsively, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you!" He whispered. Then, realizing what he had just done, he pulled away. "Er, sorry...for that..."

But, to his relief, she was smiling radiantly. "Oh, I'm so glad that you are happy! I meant to tell you when you first arrived, but I was quite distracted by all of the friends you brought back from Azkaban."

"No, it's alright. Really, thank you." He beamed at her.

"You are very welcome!"

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment.

After a minute had passed, Neville got up the gumption to take Luna's hand. To his relief, she didn't even flinch. Instead, she glanced at him with a content smile on her face and positioned herself to sit slightly closer.

With a deep breath, he bit his lip and, avoiding her eyes, spoke. "So, um, Luna...there's something that I wanted to...to tell, er, ask you. And...and, I know it's...it might be...oh, Merlin-"

"It's alright, Neville. You needn't be worried. What did you want to say?"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in nervous habit. "Okay. Alright, er...Luna, ever since fifth year I...I have been-"

"Finally! There you are, Nev." Seamus cut in, appearing behind them; his face clouded in distress. "Been looking all over for you! Ron and Hermione were supposed to be back-oh, am I interrupting something?" His eyes fell to their clasped hands.

Instantly, Neville felt a frustrating sensation of regret and discouragement. A part of him wanted to grab Seamus by the shoulders and say the he was obviously "interrupting something." But deep down, he knew his friend wouldn't be there, with such a panicked expression, if something wasn't genuinely wrong. "It's...it's alright. We were just-"

"It's okay, Neville! We can talk later. I am very curious about what you wanted to say." Luna smiled thoughtfully.

Blushing slightly, he helped her stand and the group made their way down the stone steps.

"Er, sorry mate-" Seamus started to whisper to him.

"It's fine." Neville cut him off, his voice coming out far angrier than he'd intended. "What did you need?"

"It's Ron and Hermione...I don't think they'll be coming back."

A/N: Hey guys! *hides* Yeah, I know. "It's been exactly three weeks! Where have you been? Why haven't you updated?" Sorry people. I had planned on updating two weeks ago, but then life happened. Not gonna go into detail, but basically the month of February was highly unpleasant. But anyway, this chapter was significantly longer than usual, so I hope that makes up for it.

Very specially thanks to all of these amazing people who never cease to brighten my day: AllHellBrokeLoose666, Skye, avid reader, RAGAnne, and notsing. Love to all of you! Stay fabulous humans!

If you enjoyed this chapter, please don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! But especially that last one. ;)