Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Narnia, those are JK Rowling's and CS Lewis's respectively. I'm just here for fun.

This was written for WendWriter's monthly challenge for her Archives of Excellence site and forum Can We Talk?, and the prompt was "Crazy Crossovers," where he had to choose two fandoms not usually crossed with each other. This takes place at the end of Half Blood Prince in the HP universe, and a few years after the White Witch's defeat in the Narnia universe.

Neville finally tired of sitting in the Gryffindor common room, listening to everyone whisper about You-know-who and Snape and Dumbledore, as though they were afraid to speak out loud about it. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had disappeared. Ginny had told him earlier that they weren't coming back next year, that Dumbledore had left them some sort of task. Neville supposed they were off somewhere secluded, planning for it or doing what everyone else was doing – mourning and trying to offer comfort.

Needing to think – to breathe – Neville got up and left the room. Pale mid-afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the dust that hung suspended in the air. It felt like everything at Hogwarts was like that, moving slowly, just waiting for a breath of air to send it swirling into motion again. Even Peeves was silent.

The train was coming tomorrow. Everyone was going home. Neville shuddered, and shoved his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders. This summer would change everything. He didn't need to be good at Divination to know that. Dumbledore's death was omen enough.

So what would happen next year? Who would rally the D.A. if it was needed? Ginny, probably. Luna would help. But what if Ginny's mother didn't let her come back to Hogwarts? Neville knew a lot of parents were considering it. Someone would have to take charge.

Neville came to an empty, lonely stretch of hallway and slid to the floor. He rubbed his eyes, which wouldn't stop burning, and then looped his arms around his knees. He'd have to really step up next year, he knew…he just wasn't sure he was brave enough. He wasn't like Harry or Ron, or Ginny, or even Luna.

Something moved across the hall, and Neville glanced up. He blinked. There was a door there, where only seconds before there had been nothing but smooth wall. Neville blinked again, and suddenly realized which hallway he was in. He'd found the Room of Requirement. What exactly he required, however, Neville wasn't really sure. But if he had learned anything at Hogwarts, it was not to question some of the things that happened. Apparently he needed something, and whatever it was lay beyond that door. Neville got to his feet and crossed the hallway in only a few strides, glancing around as he did so. No one else was around. So he opened the door.

"Bloody hell!" This was definitely worth questioning. It was no room on the other side of the door, but a forest! Not the Forbidden Forest – it was far too cheerful to be that. Bright, warm sunshine danced in dappled patters on the ground, which was carpeted in old, brown leaves. Birdsong filled the air, and a soft breeze toyed with Neville's hair, bringing with it his favorite smells: rich soil and growing things.

Well, he supposed there was nothing for it. With one more glance over his shoulder, Neville stepped through the door.

It snapped shut as soon as he crossed the threshold. Neville spun around, and out, and breathed a sigh of relief to find it still there, though it wasn't in a wall, it was…in a large tree. Well, at least it was there, and Neville was sure he could find it again, if he didn't wander far.

He started walking, keeping his wand out just in case, even though this didn't seem like a dangerous forest. Not that any forest seemed dangerous compared to the Forbidden Forest. Neville doubted there were any centaurs –

Never mind. He halted when he spotted one, which was watching him. Surprisingly, however, there was no hostility, only slightly wary curiosity in its gaze. Neville tightened his grip on his wand, but kept it lowered, not wanting to seem threatening.

"Well, what's this?" a voice above his head asked. It was a small, high, squeaky voice. He looked up, and found a squirrel peering back down at him. "What do you think, Loxy? Looks like an abnormally tall, beardless dwarf. Defective, maybe." No, it was not just Neville's imagination – the squirrel was talking! Its mouth was moving, and everything!

"Nonsense, Bushtail," answered Loxy, whose voice was smoother and lower than the squirrel's, from a nearby bush. Neville looked down to see a fox emerge. "It's obviously a stunted giant. Even abnormally tall dwarves aren't that tall." Neville blinked, and then looked around again. The centaur had vanished, which was just as well, he supposed. He wasn't sure he was up to dealing with one of those on top of talking animals.

"I think you're both wrong!" announced a deep, gravelly voice. From yet another clump of brush came a badger. It sat back on its haunches and looked at Neville closely. Then it nodded sagely. "It's not an it, it's a he. He's a Son of Adam!"

"He doesn't look like any Son of Adam I've seen," sniffed Bushtail the squirrel. He jumped from his branch to Neville's shoulder. Neville yelped, and Bushtail jumped lightly to the ground. "Rather jumpy, isn't he?"

"And how many Sons of Adam have you seen?" asked the badger scornfully. "He looks a bit like King Edmund, who I saw in these parts just last week. Visiting Tumnus, he was. We had a nice chat afterwards."

Loxy's tail twitched. "I saw King Edmund, too, and this doesn't look anything like him!"

"I don't mean to say that they could be taken for litter-mates," the badger said. "Only that they look like each other as, well, one dwarf looks like another."

"Well why don't we ask him?" Bushtail wanted to know. It turned to Neville. "Well? Are you a Son of Adam, a stunted giant, or a defective dwarf?"

"I, uh…no. My dad's name is Frank," Neville stammered. "But I'm not a dwarf or a giant, either, although I do know someone who's half giant, on his mother's side. He's the gamekeeper at Hogwarts, and – "

"Gamekeeper?"

"Hogwarts?"

"Half giant?"

"Wasn't the White Witch half giantess?"

"And half Djinn."

"No, no, he's not a witch," Neville said quickly. "He's not even a wizard, really. He's not allowed to use magic."

The badger looked at him sharply. "What do you know of witches?" it asked suspiciously.

Neville's heart sank. He'd said something wrong. Apparently they didn't like magic in this place. "Uh, I, well…" He cleared his throat, and said boldly, "Some of my best friends are witches! And – and I'm a wizard."

"So he's not human," Loxy said after a moment's pause.

"What? No, of course I'm human! I'm just not a muggle."

"What's a muggle?" Bushtail asked.

"A nonmagic person," Neville said. "You must know about magic. I mean, you're talking animals…"

"That's not magic, that's just the way we are," the badger said. "That's how things are done in Narnia."

"Then Narnia must be a magic country!" Neville insisted.

"The only magic that was over Narnia for a hundred years was the White Witch's spell, making it always winter and never Christmas," Loxy said, tail swishing again. "Then Aslan returned, and the Kings and Queens came and fulfilled the prophecy – "

"And there is the Deep Magic, but that's something entire diff – "

"Wait, who's Aslan?" Neville asked. Simply hearing the name filled him with a strange feeling – he felt bigger, stronger…like, well, like a real Gryffindor.

"Who's Aslan?" chorused the three animals, looking at Neville as though he'd grown another head. "Who's Aslan?" Loxy repeated incredulously. "Why, he's the King of Narnia!"

"Wait, but you said – "

"Well, Peter is the High King, and of course there is King Edmund and the Queens Susan and Lucy," the badger said, "but they wouldn't be on their thrones at all if it weren't for Aslan! He's the Great Lion, the son of the Emperor-Over-the-Sea!"

"So he's – he's a lion," Neville said. "Another talking animal."

"Oh but there are plenty of other talking lions," Bushtail said, its voice growing higher as he got excited. He bounded about Neville's feet. "But Aslan – he's the Great Lion, like Badger said!"

"It's been a few years since he's been seen in Narnia, though," Badger said. "We've been in good hands, with the Kings and Queens in Cair Paravel."

"What's that in your hand?" Bushtail asked, changing the subject as abruptly as it stopped bouncing around. It stood on his haunches and sniffed curiously at Neville's hand.

"This? It's my wand," Neville said, lifting it up out of Bushtail's reach.

Badger shifted uncomfortably. "The White Witch had a wand," Neville heard it whisper to Loxy.

"But he said he's – "

"The White Witch claimed to be a Daughter of Eve, too, remember?"

Bushtail seemed not to remember any of that; it seemed intrigued, in fact. "What do you do with it?" it asked Neville.

"All sorts of things. Like…" Neville thought for a moment of an easy spell, and then demonstrated for the animals, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Swish and flick – and a nearby stick floated into the air, much to the surprise of the animals.

"Amazing!" squeaked Bushtail. "Can you show us anything else?"

Before Neville could reply, however, a scream echoed through the wood, shattering the peace and making several birds nearby take flight. "What's that?" Neville asked, spinning around and raising his wand defensively.

"I don't know," Badger said.

Loxy exclaimed, however, "It sounded like one of the trees!" Neville looked at him incredulously, but the animals were already moving in the direction of the scream. "Do you smell that?"

"Smoke," Bushtail announced.

Neville followed the animals, and before long they came to a copse of silver birch trees. Tall, slender women all dressed in silver ran toward them, clearly in a panic. "Fire!" they cried. "Hags have set fire to our trees!" They wailed and screamed in pain, and Neville realized with a start that these women were somehow connected to the trees.

Without thinking, Neville ran around the trees, looking for the source of the fire, and found a trio of hags cackling at the women's pain. They were short, stooped, miserable looking little women, with matted grey hair and shriveled faces. "Stupefy!" he shouted, catching the hags off guard and incapacitating two of them. The third turned to Neville with a hiss, and raised her staff apparently to work some magic of her own. "Expelliarmus!" Her staff flew from her hands and hit a rock, breaking in two. She hissed at him again, calling him very unflattering names.

Another centaur appeared, then, armed this time, and went after the hags as the two Neville had stunned began to recover. They shrieked and turned to run, and might have gotten away through a small opening in some other trees, but Neville shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" He managed to hit the lead hag, who fell to the ground and tripped up the other two, leaving them at the centaur's mercy.

Then Neville turned to the important task – putting out the fire before it killed the trees. It was smoldering between two of the younger ones, whose beautiful silver bark was already charred. He could still hear the women crying, and sensed rather than saw Bushtail on a branch above him, while Loxy went after the centaur. Badger seemed to have vanished, perhaps gone for more help.

"Aguamenti!" A stream of clear, cold water jetted from Neville's wand, putting out the fire within minutes. He doused the area all around, particularly the birch trees, which seemed to soothe the women. They soon surrounded him, thanking him profusely. Badger reappeared with a funny little creature, like a small man, but with goat's legs.

Bushtail jumped to the ground and ran to Badger and the newcomer. "Neville stopped the hags and put out the fire with his magic!" it announced. "And Rainhoof killed the hags!"

Neville glanced at the centaur, who nodded to him gravely. Neville nodded back, swallowing hard and getting the feeling that centaurs in Narnia were quite different from the ones in England. Then his attention was monopolized by the women, who turned out to be dryads, which Neville had thought to be only myths, even in the Wizarding community. And he had saved them, he hadn't even hesitated!

"You were so brave!" the dryads exclaimed. "Thank goodness you were here to save us, Son of Adam!"

As the excitement died down, the centaur took his leave, and Badger introduced Neville to the funny little creature. "This is the faun Tumnus," Badger said. "Tumnus, this is Neville Longbottom, a Son of Adam and – a wizard, did you say, Neville?"

"That's right."

"A pleasure to meet you, Neville," Tumnus said, eyes crinkling as he smiled up at Neville. "High King Peter will be very pleased to learn that those hags have been destroyed. It seems that every time we think we can relax a bit, another little pocket of the White Witch's followers pops up. Hopefully this is one of the last."

"Glad to be of help," Neville said. He glanced around, noting that the shadows were beginning to lengthen. "But…I think I should go. I wasn't supposed to leave the school grounds, really…" Room of Requirement or not, he was pretty sure this counted as outside of Hogwarts.

Tumnus seemed to understand perfectly. "You'll be welcome to come to tea if you ever visit Narnia again, Neville," he said.

"Thanks."

"And I'd like to see more of your magic," Bushtail said.

"Sorry, but I really can't stay." Neville bid the animals and dryads goodbye, and somehow managed to retrace his steps back toward the door to Hogwarts. No one came with him; they instead began planning the message they would send to Cair Paravel – wherever that was – about the hags and about Neville.

There was, however, someone waiting for him just beside the door: a large lion with deep, piercing eyes and a huge, golden mane. Neville didn't need to be told who this was, he just knew. "Aslan…?" he whispered.

"Well met, Neville Longbottom." Aslan's voice was deep and smooth, like the purr of a very large, very frightening cat. "Did you find what you were seeking?"

"Um, well, I didn't really know I was seeking anything," Neville answered honestly. But then…well, he had been wondering if he was brave enough to lead the D.A., hadn't he? And now he realized that he was. "I guess I did find something, though."

Aslan stood, and Neville realized that the lion was almost as tall as he was. "You have proved yourself a true Gryffindor today."

"Th-thank you." Neville felt his face grow warm, and he shoved his wand into his pocket just for something to do. "But wait, how do you know about…?"

It suddenly occurred to him that the symbol for Gryffindor House was a lion. A lion like Aslan. Neville looked up at Aslan, but his questions died in his throat. This was one of those things that wasn't worth questioning. So he bowed, and then nearly fell over when Aslan placed a paw on his shoulder.

"Go with the blessings of Aslan and Narnia," the Great Lion said solemnly. "I am sure your friends are waiting for you."

So Neville straightened and approached the door back to Hogwarts, feeling strangely confident, even with Voldemort looming in the shadows, and the loss of Dumbledore. He opened the door, and stepped back into the hallway, accompanied by a rush of warm, fragrant air and the sound of the dryads breaking into song.

The door closed of its own accord, leaving Neville alone in the silent hallway. He looked around, and realized that while the afternoon had been stretching toward evening when he had left Narnia, the sun was still high in the sky here in England.

No time at all had passed, it seemed. Neville took a deep breath, and started walking, going back to Gryffindor Tower. He wouldn't tell anyone what had just happened – they wouldn't believe him. Even in Hogwarts, doorways to different worlds didn't just appear. But he still felt the weight of Aslan's paw on his shoulder, and he knew he could rally Dumbledore's Army when the time came, and maybe – just maybe – he could stand up to Voldemort himself.