Part 4 - Try and try again

Dear Ginny,

I hope you are well. You haven't answered my last two owls. I hope this is because your family took you somewhere nice for Easter.

Neville stared at the parchment. He then scratched at the words and started again. Dear Ginny, he wrote, I haven't heard from you in a week, and I'm worried sick. Hannah says she hasn't heard from you either. Please reply to this owl and say that you're okay and haven't been caught by Death Eaters.

He scratched over those lines too, but before he could think of another way to phrase his question, he heard a commotion downstairs. He opened his door and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

It was the same Death Eater as the last time. Rowle. His gran was already facing the Death Eater, who was at least twice her size, her wand in hand. "I'm warning you," she commanded him, not at all intimidated, "this is private property, and you are trespassing!"

"Keep quiet, woman!" the Death Eater roared.

"What's going on here?" Neville asked quietly. He wasn't concerned - his gran could definitely take care of herself, even against a gorilla like Rowle, but perhaps he will think twice and save all of them the trouble of having to deal with the consequences.

"Ah, and here's your grandson. It's him I came to talk to," Rowle said.

Neville looked at his gran, and could see his own confusion reflected in her expression. "Me?" he asked. "What could you possibly want with me?"

"You going back to school tomorrow, aren't you? Got a message for you. From your teachers. Says if you don't behave this term, there will be trouble."

Neville scratched the thin scar that cut through his eyebrow. "I thought there already was trouble," he said.

"That's nothing compared to what will happen to you if you keep on giving 'em lip, boy," the Death Eater smirked.

"My grandson will act whichever way he sees fit," Gran now stretched and looked twice as tall as she was. Rowle looked intimidated for a moment, and Neville couldn't help but grin. "And he has my full blessing."

"I'll remember that, Mrs Longbottom, I'll remember you said that."

"Are you threatening me?!" she bellowed. The Death Eater, cowed and worried, left.

"Thanks, Gran," Neville said quietly.

Gran, who was much shorter than he was, had to stretch her neck to look him in the eye. She didn't do it often; she often complained it made her neck hurt. But she had done it a few times, especially in the past two years. After the events at the Ministry, she smiled and stretched her neck and told him he was starting to live up to his father. After the events last year, after Dumbledore died, she smiled and stretched her neck and told him his father would have done the same thing. She didn't smile now. She didn't talk about his father. All she said was, "I'm proud of you, Neville."

He leaned down and hugged her.

"I don't know what I will do here when you go to that school tomorrow," she said quietly.

"You'll piss off Death Eaters much better than I can," he said. "And more of them, too."

She laughed, then the moment was gone. The stern expression returned to her face. "Now go pack your trunk," she said, "it's getting late and we need to leave early tomorrow."

"Yes, Gran," he said and went upstairs to finish packing his trunk, and think of new ways to phrase the letter he wasn't going to send to Ginny.

The train ride to Hogwarts the next morning looked to be the most depressing he could ever think of. Ginny was nowhere in sight, not on the platform and not on the train. Neville dragged his trunk up on the train, worried and without real enthusiasm.

"Neville," someone called. Padma Patil. The entire DA - what was left of it - was sitting together, too large a group for one of the compartments, so they were sitting in the more public areas of the train, in one of the open carriages. He joined them, making his way slowly through the aisles.

He used to sit in this section a lot when he was younger. It took a while before he had close enough friends to sit with them in one of the compartments. During his first trip on the train, he sat down there, and then he lost Trevor and met Hermione and spent most of the ride walking around with one looking for the other.

The next rides, of course, he didn't sit with Hermione. By then, she spent all her time - including the train rides - with Harry and Ron. He always wanted to join them, and always was too afraid. They were the coolest kids in school, or at least in his opinion. He didn't want to ask to join them and hear them say no, so he never asked. Instead, he sat in the public carriage of the train on his own - well, with Trevor. A few years later, and at times he joined Dean and Seamus, at others he joined Parvati and Padma and Lavender, and then in the fifth year, all of a sudden, he found himself in the same compartment with Harry, because Ron and Hermione were prefects and Harry didn't have anyone to sit with either. For two years, that was his compartment - Harry and Luna and himself, and then Ron and Hermione at times as well.

Now he was in the common area again, but not because he had no one to sit with, but because he had too many friends who couldn't all make it into one of the compartments - and they were calling him, and wanted him to join them, looked almost eager to make a place for him right in the middle. And as he sat there he thought he would have given anything in the world to sit in a compartment, with Harry and Luna and maybe Ginny too, and have Ron and Hermione show up every once in a while to complain about Malfoy abusing his position, and spend the rest of ride talking about Nargles or something as daft as that.

Instead, he sat near the aisle, next to Anthony Goldstein and in front of Terry Boot. They were both very nice guys.

"Ginny's not on the train, is she?" Terry asked quietly. Neville shook his head. "Thought so. My dad works at Gringotts. One of Ginny's brothers works there too. My dad said they all went into hiding during Easter."

"So they're okay?" Neville asked, and he could feel the relief washing over him.

"My dad thinks so, yeah. He says Ginny's brother was at the bank when it happened. My dad's working with him, see. I dunno exactly what happened, but they knew in advance. All of a sudden there was one of those talking Patronus charms, telling him to get the hell out. So they're safe. Ginny's safe."

For a second or two, Neville buried his head in his hand. He was so overwhelmed by his relief, that he didn't think he could look at the others. He then breathed deep, thought he'd manage to control his emotions again - or, at least, limit them to the huge grin that was plastered all over his face - and he raised his head.

There was something next to his arm now. A note. Was it there before? Neville was sure it wasn't. He picked up the parchment and opened it. There were only three words on it, written in an unfamiliar handwriting.

Potter's still alive.

Alarmed, Neville got to his feet. Who could have - he hadn't looked at his surroundings for two seconds. Maybe three. No more than five. Who could have got the note there in that time? He looked around, but didn't see anyone walking down the aisle in either direction, anyone but Malfoy, who was walking to the toilet at the end of the carriage. Everyone else were in their seat.

Could it have been one of the people who sat in the seats next to his? But they were all DA members! If this information had come from a member of the DA, they wouldn't have sent an unsigned parchment - they would have all talked about it.

He looked down at the parchment again, reading and re-reading the words, over and over again. Potter's still alive. He wanted to hold the parchment forever, but the edge of the parchment caught fire magically. He had to throw it on the table in front of him. In a second, the flames engulfed the entire note. In another, nothing was left but the smallest heap of ashes.

"What was that?" Anthony Goldstein asked, the curiosity written all over his face.

Neville stared at the heap of ash for another moment before shaking his head and looking at Anthony.

The news soon spread throughout the entire carriage. When the trolley lady went past, they bought enough candy to have the biggest, loudest 'Support Harry Potter' party they could.

-X-

There were no more 'Support Harry Potter' parties after that. Despite the bout of unexpected good news, life at Hogwarts was more depressing than ever, and not just because of their missing friends. Now that they had a reason to believe Harry was alive, Neville kept on telling Seamus that he would come, he would come to save them from the Carrows and Snape and take over the school. But as the days went by and no Harry showed up, the fear and the doubt took over.

Neville kept on telling them, telling everyone, that they should wait, they should just wait, and Harry would show up. He dreamed about it at night, Harry showing up, with Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Luna - and sometimes with Dean - and driving the Carrows away. And Snape, too. Then he woke up to reality, where the Carrows reigned supreme and there was no scrap of news after that one, anonymous note, and his entire body ached after another round of detention that was mostly Goyle and Crabbe getting to show off their skills of the Cruciatus curse.

And then one evening Anthony Goldstein burst into the Gryffindor common room, after hours. "Neville," he rushed to him. "Michael's back."

Michael Corner had been missing that entire day. He sneaked out last night to release a first year Ravenclaw who talked back to the Carrows and was shackled in the cellars, and no one had heard from him since.

"Where is he?" Neville straightened up in his seat. Anthony's face spoke of nothing but worry.

"He's in the hospital. He wants to talk to you."

"I'm coming."

They had to be extra careful, sneaking out after hours. Not for the first time that year, Neville wished he had Harry's invisibility cloak, or at least his map. But they had neither of those things, so they had to look through corners or tiptoe up the stairs or take as many shortcuts as they could. Eventually, after much too long a trip in Neville's mind, they made it to the hospital wing and walked inside.

Neville saw Terry and Padma before he saw Michael. There were both sitting next to a bed at the end of the room. Neville ran the distance between them, and only paused when he saw Michael himself.

There was a huge bandage on Michael's face. It covered his forehead and one of his eyes, and went all the way to his mouth. His nose looked broken. The non-bandaged eye was almost closed, black and blue bruises around it. There were more cuts and bruises all over his neck, and one of his arms was in a sling. When he reached for water, Neville could see that the fingers on the other hand were broken too. Madam Pomfrey had left the bottle of Skele-Gro on the bedside table. It looked as if she thought she would have to use it more than once.

"Neville's here," Padma said quietly. Michael turned his head, but Neville wasn't sure he could see him through the small slit of his eye.

"Merlin, Michael," he whispered. "They turned you into a punching bag."

"They said..." he coughed, and Padma gave him some water. He drank a bit, then started again. "They said to give you a message. That this is nothing compared to what they'll do to you. If they catch you."

Neville thought of last night. They had graffitied the Headmaster's office again. This time from the inside. "They did this to send a message?" he asked, incredulous.

"Neville. You have to stop."

"No." Neville wasn't sure what angered him more - what the Carrows had done to Michael, or that they had done so only to make a point to Neville. But he wasn't going to let them win.

Michael pulled himself up to a sitting position. "Stay in bed," Padma said quietly, but Michael ignored her. He turned his nearly-closed eye to Neville. "This isn't a game," he said. "You don't understand how much they want you, Neville!"

"Snape won't let them," Neville shook his head, then said before Terry, Anthony and Padma could all offer their own objections and disbelief. "I know he's a Death Eater. And I know he's - he killed Dumbledore, I know who he is, I know what he is! He's a scum and he's a lowlife, but he's been keeping them from crossing the line all year and don't tell me you haven't seen it because I know you have. Snape won't let them do anything too drastic."

"I'm not so sure, Neville," Padma said. "I overheard him shouting at the Carrows when they brought Michael here. And the Carrows shouted back. I don't think he can keep them at bay for long. Not if they decide... It might not be up to him."

"That time won't come," Neville said with a fake certainty he did not really feel inside. "By the time the Carrows get that much power, Harry will be back."

It used to be the magic word. Whenever Neville spoke of Harry, the others always listened. But this time, Michael wasn't buying it. "And what if Harry is dead?" he demanded. "What if no one's coming? What if You-Know-Who has won? What then?"

"I'm not going to bow my head," Neville answered. "I'm not going to wait for this to go away. I'm not going to do what they want me to do and rely on the fact my father was a pure-blood wizard and my mother was a pure-blood witch and watch what they do to everyone else. You think I don't know how this ends? Yeah, if it comes down to that, then that's how it'll be. Either he's dead or I'm dead."

Terry looked at his fingernails. Padma bit her lip. Anthony sat down on a chair, pale and shaken. And Michael, who was sitting up in the bed, shook his head. "Maybe I'm a coward," he said quietly, "but I'm just not ready to die yet."

"You're not a coward," Neville whispered. "This isn't bravery, it's..."

"Longbottom," someone called his name. All five of them looked up. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout were all accompanying Madam Pomfrey to Michael's bed.

McGonagall looked for a moment at Michael, her lips pursed and her nostrils flared, then turned her gaze to Neville. "It's after hours," she said, but her voice was not stern or angry. It was almost soft. "Come, I'll escort you to your dormitories."

"It's fine, Professor, I can get there on my own," he started saying, but she shook her head.

"As long as you're escorted by a teacher, Longbottom, you cannot be considered at fault."

"Yes, Professor," he said quietly. He shook Michael's hand before he left. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Neville walked towards Professor McGonagall, but Madam Pomfrey stopped him. "Longbottom..." she started, then paused and shot a glance at Michael. "I don't want to see you here like this, Longbottom."

Neville nodded. He joined Professor McGonagall, and they left the hospital wing together. She didn't say a word that entire walk, not until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

He was about to give the password, when he heard her saying his name. "Neville." He looked at her in surprise - it was the first time he had ever heard Professor McGonagall using his given name. "You need to be careful. Really careful."

"I will be."

"It's not that the staff don't sympathise with what you're doing. It's not that we don't appreciate it. My own father..." she considered this for a moment. "But you need to understand the danger you are in."

"I do, Professor."

"What were you thinking, doing something as foolish as going into Snape's office?"

"I was thinking, What would Harry have done?"

The light from the hallway was reflected all of a sudden in McGonagall's eyes, as if they were full of water.

"He'll come back, Professor," Neville said. "You'll see."

He didn't add that he hoped Harry would come back really soon.

-X-

The Carrows didn't catch him in action. He was extra careful. He refused to let Hannah join now, not with him, though. He knew she would be in much more danger if she was associated with him this way. And unlike him, Hannah was half-blood, and even if he hated to think that way, it was something that had to be put into consideration.

Almost no one else got out at night anymore, to put on graffiti, or to sabotage the Carrows in any way they could. After Michael came Lavender, and then Padma was caught, and everyone was so afraid that they didn't dare keep fighting.

In the end, the Carrows got what they wanted. The students of Hogwarts bowed their heads now, did as they were told, kept quiet and hoped it would pass. Except for Neville.

And then, one morning, everything changed. An unknown owl dropped a letter at breakfast, right on his forehead. "Ouch!" Neville told the owl off, then picked up the letter. It was from Gran. Telling him that whatever anyone was going to say to him, she was alright and well. She just had to run. Run for her life, after they tried to take her in, because Xenophilius Lovegood had given up after they had taken Luna and maybe they thought Neville would shut up if they took his Gran away.

He couldn't help but smile when he read the letter. Rowle, it seemed, didn't actually remember what they told him, that night before term started. But his Gran was alright, and whatever they tried to do had failed.

And then another letter dropped on his forehead.

"What is it with the owls today?!" he demanded, then picked up the letter and started opening it, and all that before he realised it wasn't just a letter - it was a Howler. Who'd send him...?

The Howler was already exploding in his hand. He didn't know who it was from. He didn't recognise the voice. All he knew was the one word that the Howler offered, in a deep voice, magically magnified so it could be heard throughout the entire Great Hall. "Run."

The entire Gryffindor table looked at him. Kids in other tables stopped eating and stared at him as well. Professor McGonagall, who had been talking quietly and urgently to Professor Slughorn until that point, stopped and stared at Neville. And all of a sudden, Zacharias Smith shouted from the edge of the Hufflepuff table, the closest to the teachers' table: "Carrows!"

Neville had time enough to see the Carrows walk in, their wands held in front of them. There was no time to lose. He bolted out of his seat and towards the other door, the exit from the Great Hall and into the school.

"Catch him!" he heard Amycus Carrow shout, but no one tried to follow his command. The Carrows sent curse after curse at him. Some of them hit him; others missed. He felt pain in his arm, but he didn't stop running. The rest of the students all watched him as he ran. Even Snape, who had come down from his office and stood at the doorway to the Great Hall, even he did nothing as Neville ran right by him and up the stairs.

He needed to leave the castle. He couldn't leave the castle. He needed a place to hide. Gryffindor Tower. Too risky, they could force their way in. The passage to Hogsmeade. No, it was all blocked. The Room of Requirement. That was it. He jumped one staircase after the other, skipped the tricky step without giving it a second thought, and went up, all the way up, to the seventh floor, to the tapestry of the trolls in tutu, and walked past the blank wall three times.

The door appeared.

There was a hammock. There were a few books, textbooks for his N.E.W.T.s and some reading books - there was even a comic book of the Adventure of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle - the same volume he had started reading in his Gryffindor dormitories, too. There was a toilet and a change of clothes and a bandage for his arm and everything he needed.

Almost everything he needed, he realised around noon, when he started feeling hungry and noticed that there was no food in the room. All the wonderful things in it - and the only thing missing was something to eat. If the room was a person, it would have received a raised eyebrow and a 'Really?', said in an admonishing tone. But the room was a room, and admonishing it would have done no good.

It wasn't that big a problem at first. Neville told himself he could last a few hours without food, and by evening someone was bound to realise he was there and bring him something.

And then it was after nine p.m. and Neville realised no one was coming and that he was starving. "Really?" he admonished the room out loud. It was foolish, but after a full day in there, all by himself - and with no food - the silence was becoming overbearing. He wondered where everyone was, and whether the Carrows kept watch on them, with the hope they would lead them to Neville.

"I really need something to eat," he told the room.

And then something caught his eye - a movement, somewhere in the room. He turned around, looking for the source of the movement - could it be one of the Carrows? Had they found him? But it was only a portrait. The portrait of a teenaged girl.

He hadn't noticed it before. He was quite sure it wasn't there a moment ago. But it was there now. There must be a reason that it appeared, he realised. Perhaps the room was talking back after all.

"I really need something to eat?" he hazarded again. The girl smiled. And then - and then it was like the Fat Lady's portrait. The painting opened up, and revealed a tunnel behind it. A tunnel no one knew about, because it hadn't been there until that very moment. A tunnel - out?

He didn't hesitate. He only paused to light his wand, then started walking. It took about twenty minutes - roughly the same time as the secret passage to Honeyduke's, he thought. He was going to Hogsmeade.

He didn't end up at Honeyduke's, though. He ended up in a well lit room, a sitting room with a fireplace and a carpet. Neville paused in alarm. Somebody's house? But the Room of Requirement wouldn't send him to a place of danger, he thought. No way. There must be something more to it.

He looked around until he spotted a flight of stairs. Slowly, quietly, he tiptoed down the stairs until he reached the bottom step, from which he could already see the bar. He knew this place.

He was in the Hog's Head.

The pub was all but empty. There was a curfew in Hogsmeade now, Neville knew. It said so in the Daily Prophet. There was no living soul there, except for the old barman, who was sitting on a chair, reading a newspaper - and then looked up straight at Neville.

His mouth opened in surprise, formed a perfect 'O'. Then his eyes seemed to go over Neville, registering the bandage and the scars left by the Carrows. And then he looked at the locked door, as if to confirm that was not where Neville had come from.

"How did you get in here, boy?" he asked gruffly.

"There was a tunnel," Neville answered, not quite sure what to say, only positive that he didn't want to lie. "Through a portrait. From the, uh, from the Room of Requirement. Hogwarts. I've been hiding there, but I was getting a bit hungry," he admitted.

The old barman studied him again before speaking. "You're Longbottom, aren't you?" he asked, and didn't wait for Neville's answer. "Yeah, I remember you, hanging out here with Potter. You've got your mother's face, Longbottom. Come on, I'll get you something to eat."

By the end of dinner, Neville ended up telling the old barman everything, more or less, and hearing some things from the barman too - such as learning that his name was Aberforth Dumbledore, that he was Professor Dumbledore's brother, and who the girl in the portrait was.

Ab thought he should stay there, in his pub, but Neville said no; his place was at Hogwarts. When the time came, he said, they would fight, and Neville should be among the fighting. Ab called him a fool, asked if he didn't feel he had enough scars. "You don't need a scar on your forehead to prove yourself, boy," he said. Neville ignored him. In the end, he got a large basket full of food, and a promise that when he needed more, he would get it.

The next morning, Parvati showed up in the Room of Requirements; she had a bag full of Neville's clothes and some food she had managed to steal from the kitchens. She looked nothing short of devastated when she saw Neville absolutely did not need these things, but it didn't last long - she was too relieved to see that Neville was there, and that he was alright.

"Oh, this place is brilliant!" she said and looked around in excitement, picking up this and that. "Sorry we didn't come last night," she told him. "We figured you were here, but the Carrows wouldn't let us out of their sight. Seamus tried sneaking in here once and got caught. They're still questioning him now," her face darkened. "I hope he's alright. But it gave me the opportunity I needed to get here."

"Thanks," he said.

"I wish I could keep you company," she said, and sounded genuinely disappointed. No wonder - unless Neville's memory was fooling him, she was facing two hours of Muggle Studies.

"It's okay, I'm good," he said. "I'm safe here. Safer than you lot. Just a bit lonely."

He didn't stay lonely for long. Seamus tried to sneak him food next, or just come visiting after he heard Parvati's story, and was seen by the Carrows. After he managed to enter the Room of Requirement, he could't risk coming out. The Room seemed to realise that - all of a sudden, there were two hammocks there.

Michael Corner was next. He spoke out, in the end, in one of the Dark Arts classes, and wasn't going to stick around for another beating. Padma came with him, and once she did, so did Parvati. Hannah Abbott had an outburst during Muggle Studies, and no one was more surprised than Ernie Macmillan when he stood up and backed her up. They found their way to the Room of Requirement not long after. Lavender wasn't going to stay on her own too much, and showed up next; the Room seemed to be slightly intimidated of her, Neville thought. She started complaining that there weren't any showers there, and then they appeared all of a sudden. Even the hammocks didn't appear as fast as that, even though by now there must have been a dozen of them.

And then came the night Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot came bursting in. Everyone got up in alarm - Terry was bleeding hard, and could barely stand on his feet, but he didn't look upset. He looked elated. He kept on waving a piece of parchment at them and shouting excitedly.

It took almost ten minutes before both he and Anthony calmed down enough so that the rest of them could understand what was going on. The piece of parchment was a letter. The letter was from Terry's father. Terry's father worked at Gringotts, the wizarding bank. And according to Terry's father -

"Harry did what?!" Neville yelled in delight.

"They broke in?!" Parvati said, stunned.

"They broke out?!" Michael was equally as stunned.

"A dragon?!" Lavender and Seamus said in unison. "Well," Lavender added weakly, "He always had a thing for dragons..."

"Oh my god, they're alive," Hannah kept on saying, and Neville went to her and hugged her tight. "They're alive."

Above Hannah's head, Neville saw something else. Ariana Dumbledore had come to her portrait, although she was had not been called. Ab wanted him in the Hog's Head. Neville didn't dare hope, but deep inside, he thought he knew the reason.

"Listen," he asked her quietly, "d'you still have your coin? The DA coin?"

"Yeah," she said, confused.

"Use it. If Luna, or Ginny, or Dean, or anyone - use it. I think they're coming here. They need to know, the Order needs to know."

"Yeah, sure. Where are you going?"

Neville gestured at the portrait. "Ab wants a word," he said. He didn't want to say anything more. Just in case he was wrong. He didn't want to think anything more. Just in case he was wrong. He jogged down the tunnel and towards the Hog's Head, trying to get there as quickly as possible, and all that time he told himself, It isn't them, it's something else, it's someone else, don't get too excited, it isn't them.

And then the portrait opened on the other end and he saw that mess of jet-black hair, so familiar, and he knew, he just knew everything was going to be alright.

-X-

At last, people were getting tired. The adrenaline rush, the excitement was abating, they were all calming down now. For the first time in hours, Neville was allowed to stop talking, for the first time in hours he was not surrounded by people who demanded to hear again and again how he had broken free of Voldemort's curse, how he had pulled the sword out of the hat, how he had destroyed the snake.

He didn't get it. It was as if they weren't even there, he thought in confusion. It was as if they didn't actually see him. But they did! They all knew what had happened, they all saw it, so why did they want him to tell it all over again?

He wasn't going to ask them now. No, he was going to use the freedom he found and get the hell out of there. He was tired too; no, he was exhausted. He craved sleep. He didn't think he'd manage to climb all the way to Gryffindor tower. And he didn't know what to do with the damn sword.

No one had asked him to give it to them yet. No one had said that maybe he should put it down or give it to the Minister or something like that. He just kept on clutching it. He left the Great Hall, or what was left of it, still holding the sword.

There was a small space, not far from there. The walls had fallen on both sides, creating the small occluded space, almost hidden from the rest of the corridor. Neville wasn't quite sure how he spotted it himself. It looked perfect, the perfect hiding place. Maybe he'd be able to fall asleep there, he thought and yawned.

He had just settled down when someone sat next to him on the ledge. How did they find me? he thought in frustration bordering on desperation. He almost opened his mouth to ask whoever it was to go away and please, just leave him alone and let him sleep, and then he saw who it was.

Harry looked... about the same as Neville felt, really. Perhaps a bit worse. Neville could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the shock that was slowly coming to replace the euphoria. Neville wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to express everything that was going through his head. In the end, he just said, "Thank you," and hoped that even though it wasn't enough, Harry would understand.

Harry bit his lip for a moment. His eyes searched for something in Neville's face, but Neville didn't know what it was. It was as if he was looking for a sign, a clue, something to tell him what to do - but what could it possibly be that had something to do with Neville?

Then he nodded. "You remember that room in the Ministry? The one with the prophecies? From our fifth year?"

"Sure," Neville said in growing confusion. Of course he remembered. How could he ever forget? He had fought there, side by side with Harry.

"There was a prophecy there. About me and Voldemort."

"Yeah, the Chosen One thing. But it was destroyed." Neville looked at him sheepishly for a moment. "I dropped it."

"Dumbledore showed me a copy," Harry said quietly. "When we came back. It didn't mention me by name, you see. It just gave signs. Which boy it was talking about. When he would be born and stuff like that. He chose me, in the end, but it didn't have to be me. There was someone else it could have been."

Neville's mouth opened in surprise. Harry and Neville had almost the same birthday. Surely Harry wasn't saying what he thought he was saying?

"Could have been you."

It took Neville a long time to answer. He wasn't sure he knew what he thought about what Harry was telling him even then. "I'm glad it wasn't me. Don't get me wrong," he added quickly. "I know this whole thing, I mean, you.. I don't mean it's good that it happened to you. But that's the thing, see. I'm glad it wasn't me. I'm not as brave as you. I couldn't have done it."

Harry reached for the Sword of Gryffindor. Neville handed it to him gladly - after all, it belonged to Harry much more than it belonged to Neville; but Harry didn't want to take it. He just passed his fingers over the golden letters, the name that was etched on the sword. Godric Gryffindor. Then he looked again at Neville, and for just a moment, his exhaustion made way to something else - affection, elation, pride.

"You would have done magnificently."