Jeremiah Lachley, Ameila Bone’s assistant, stood in front of Albus Dumbledore’s desk watching the Headmaster read the parchment he had delivered. He almost laughed outright as he realized he had spent more time in this office over the course of the past month than he ever had in his seven years as a Hufflepuff. Refocusing his thoughts, his eyes wandered to the portraits of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses who were doing their best to read over Dumbledore’s shoulder from their frames. All except one - a thin, pinched looking man who had pilfered a book from the shelves in the portrait next to him and was flipping through it, looking rather bored by the whole procedure. Jeremiah thought Phineas Nigellus Black had the right idea.
Fudge had been out of the office following Lachley’s last trip to Hogwarts. Ameila Bones had grumbled slightly at the result of the Hogwarts rulings, but with the weight of the war on her shoulders, she had put her faith in Dumbledore’s decision and let it go. Unfortunately, two days of off-site diplomatic meetings full of pressures for action had Fudge on the defensive when he stormed into her office on his return, raging how detention was not a fitting punishment for the crime committed.
“Minister, begging your pardon, but Professor Dumbledore ““
“Professor Dumbledore is a misguided fool!” Fudge interrupted Ameila Bones angrily. “It is time we show these people-“
”These people?” Amelia repeated. “These people are students!”
“Students who grow up to support He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named if we don’t show them what happens when they pull stupid stunts like this!”
“As if they won’t grow up to do that anyway,” Ameila muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me, Madam Bones?” Fudge said.
Amelia pursed her lips. “Minister, I can’t imagine Dumbledore allowing the expulsion of that many students.”
“I don’t think it’s Albus Dumbledore’s decision anymore!” Fudge snapped. “I will have him removed as Headmaster if he does not comply.”
Amelia watched as Fudge dragged his handkerchief across his brow. She didn’t have time to deal with Fudge’s final act of desperation. She hoped Albus did.
“How about suspensions?” Amelia suggested.
“Suspensions? How could a suspension be a fitting punishment for the crime of kidnapping?”
“Minister, think about it,” Amelia explained tiredly. “You yourself said it. If you send the Malfoy boy and his troop home, they simply join up with the Death Eaters strengthening the Dark Lord’s forces. If you make Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley leave Hogwarts, a place where the Dark Lord cannot touch them…”
Fudge’s nostrils flared as Amelia’s words wove through his anger. He growled and pounded the corner of her desk in frustration. “Fine!” he shouted. “Suspension, then, or I’ll have his job.”
Ameila rolled her eyes. “Fine, I will send Lachley to take care of it.”
“Lachley is the imbecile who came back ““
“Jeremiah Lachley is my assistant and I trust he will be able to deliver your message,” Amelia Bones sighed. “Now, if there is nothing else, Minister, I need to get back to work. There is a war going on, you know.”
Fudge was half-way back to his office before he realized he had been the one dismissed. His shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew his days were numbered.
Jeremiah’s eyes shifted back to the desk as Albus Dumbledore rolled up the parchment.
Dumbledore sighed heavily and stood up, his tired eyes looking at Jeremiah over the top rims of his glasses. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy catching up with past students, Jeremiah, but I do hope I don’t have to see you again for a while.”
Jeremiah grinned. “I understand, sir.”
“Yes, you would,” Dumbledore nodded. “You were always one who could see the whole picture. There are times I wish I had more of that talent.”
Jeremiah cleared is throat. “Sir? I need to tell the Minister your answer.”
“Jeremiah, I do not think these students should have to pay for Fudge’s lack of prior action in this war. I also do not believe even he believes he could take my job. However, I do believe he could spend a whole lot of energy on this when he should be spending his energy in keeping the public safe.” Dumbledore moved around his desk and motioned for Jeremiah to follow him to the door. “That being said, I agree to the suspensions on one condition. They are for a week and the students and their parents may choose if they spend them here at school or in their homes. My main concern is that at the end of the week, all of the students are safely back within the castle walls.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Yes, sir. I will pass that on.”
“Thank you, Jeremiah. And please, don’t come back,” Dumbledore smiled.
“Yes, sir,” Jeremiah grinned.
++++
No one would ever accuse Nathan of being a morning person. In their years apart, Anna had forgotten how Nathan’s main form of communication before the sun was securely fastened in the sky was growling. Several weeks of sharing their mornings had refreshed her memory which was why, taking into consideration last evening’s Valentine’s Day Festivities, she wasn’t surprised he hadn’t said anything yet. Standing in the Room of Requirement, surrounded by Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, she could see, though, out of the corner of her eye, Ron’s hand on Hermione’s shoulder, applying gentle pressure to keep her from bouncing up and down too eagerly. Anna placed her hand on Hermione’s arm and squeezed reassuringly.
“Give it a minute. The tea will kick in soon,” Anna whispered, as she took a bite of muffin.
“I heard that,” Nathan remarked, scratching his neck with his hand.
Not able to hold back any longer, Hermione clasped her hands together in front of her. “Will it work?”
Nathan turned around and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “It’s risky. Maybe too risky.”
“But will it work?” Harry asked.
Nathan exhaled. “In theory, yes,” he held up his hands as Hermione clapped hers excitedly. “But no one has tried this before. It’s all old and yet so new at the same time ““
“Nathan, we know that,” Anna said.
“I know, but,” Nathan turned back to the black board, his voice full of uncertainty, “to be honest, I feel like we’re working without a net and I don’t like that.”
“Huh?” Ron asked, looking back at the boards in confusion.
“Sorry, Muggle expression. My mother used it,” Nathan explained, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against one of the tables. “It’s all so “ so unknown. I wish it were more concrete,” he said, pushing himself up and starting to pace. “I mean, yes, the Obliteration Charm looks, well, doable for lack of a better word. If Lily’s research is correct, then yes, Harry and Ginny’s bond should be protected. It’s just, I’m no expert on Entrapment Charms and ““
“I know an expert “ or at least someone who knows more than the rest of us,” Anna interrupted. “Bill has studied them. He could be an extra set of eyes for us.”
“I’m not sure Bill will get past the Obliteration Charm before he shuts the whole idea down,” Nathan remarked.
“He will,” Anna argued, her voice full of conviction. “He may resist at first, but he’ll come around.”
“You’re sure about that?” Ron asked.
Anna nodded, holding up two fingers and ticking them off. “First, he’s emotionally involved and won’t be able to simply stand by once he knows we’re going to do it anyway. Second, he’s a curse breaker. Good spell work such as this is like catnip to a cat “ magnetic and addictive.”
“You say that so convincingly,” Nathan remarked.
“Don’t I, though?” Anna grinned.
“Alright, let’s say Bill can help and says it’s all good, then what?” Ron asked.
“Training,” Nathan said simply, glancing at the board. “If we’re doing this, I suggest you two spend your new found free time this week,” he nodded at Harry and Ginny, “working on becoming as strong as you can possibly be. If there is anything we can do to ensure this will work, then we’re going to do it.”
“Yes, sir,” Ginny said. Harry nodded in agreement.
Nathan turned back to the boards and crossed his arms over his chest. Deep inside, he felt the stirrings of foreboding swelling and he did his best to ignore them.
++++
Vivian Blevins rubbed her hands together to warm them, her eyes searching through the clouded windows of Greenhouse One. Professor Sprout had told her that she would most likely find Neville here. Vivian smiled as she replayed the conversation in her head. By sheer dumb luck, Vivian had approached Professor Sprout at the head table in the Great Hall and asked if there was a way to find out what class a student was in at a particular time of day. Professor Sprout had explained that the head of the student’s house would be able to give her that information and asked which student she was interested in. When Vivian replied, “Neville Longbottom,” Professor Sprout had lit up like the fairy lights that lined the boardwalk the previous evening. Since classes were about to begin, Professor Sprout had offered to walk her to the Greenhouses where Neville was working, organizing Greenhouse One before the first years’ next class.
A movement near the front row of benches caught Vivian’s eye and she leaned closer, pressing her nose to the window. Neville obviously was not expecting anyone to be spying on him because when he looked up and caught her gaze, he jumped and lost his footing. As if in slow motion, Vivian watched horrified as Neville lost his grip on a sack of something brown and steamy, sending it flying into a pile of clay pots stacked on the bench in front of him as he tumbled back into a stack of potting tools leaning against the wall. Crashing, clattering splatters radiated throughout the greenhouse as Vivian removed her nose from the glass, flung open the door and rushed forward.
“Oh, Neville! I am so sorry! I really didn’t mean to startle you,” she apologized, kneeling down next to him as he tried to extradite himself from several trowels and a rake. “Here, let me help,” she said, unhooking his robes from the tine of a spading fork that had stapled him to the ground.
“I “ uh “ thanks,” Neville replied, his face a shimmering shade of scarlet.
Vivian stood up and extended her hand in order to help Neville off the ground. He hesitated than accepted, allowing her to help pull him up into a standing position.
“Professor Sprout said you’d be here,” Vivian explained. She stepped back to give Neville a little breathing space, her heel sinking into something soft and squishy and very, very smelly. “Oh, my goodness,” she exclaimed, picking up her foot and shaking the flakes of brown off the scaled heel.
“Mrs. Blevins, I’m really sorry,” Neville apologized frantically, as he searched his pockets for his wand. “That’s, uh, - well, it’s-“
“Erumpent Fertlizer, I’m guessing,” Vivian answered, finding her own wand first and pointing it at her shoe.
“Yeah,” Neville said, momentarily forgetting his search. “How’d you know?” Neville blanched as he listened to himself ask the question. It was rather rude to simply assume Joanna’s mother knew nothing about Herbology. It was just difficult to imagine that the impeccably groomed woman standing before him dressed in a tailored black wool cloak with burgundy silk trim, performing a cleaning charm on what looked like expensive dragon hide heels, would have an extensive knowledge of processed dung.
“Erumpent Fertilizer has a rich brown color, a thready texture, and contains little particles of undigested mineral deposits which are vital to plants that do not require water to grow,” Vivian stated mechanically as she stepped over the pile of fertilizer. She smiled at Neville and shrugged. “My father was a weekend Herbologist. It was my job to mix the potting soil. As hard as I tried not to listen, some things stuck anyway. Here, let me help clean this up. It was my fault really. I suppose you don’t often have people spying on you in here,” she observed pointing her wand at the mess.
“Only your daughter,” Neville answered automatically then stopped, his face flaming again. “I didn’t mea-“
Vivian laughed and shook her head. “That’s alright, Neville. I wouldn’t expect anything less from my daughter. After all, I did the same thing to her father.”
“Mr. Blevins worked in the greenhouses?” Neville asked uncertainly.
“No “ I meant I followed him around, watched him from afar, that kind of thing. You see, I had the biggest crush on him but was struck dumb every time I came near him.”
“Oh,” Neville said, trying to fight a grin for politeness sake and loosing. He waved his found wand over the broken bits of pots, repairing them. “Did you meet at Hogwarts?”
“No, I didn’t go to Hogwarts. I went to Beauxbatons. After school, we both joined the Ministry of Magic. I met him there. But, enough about me, I came to talk to you about Joanna.”
The hollow spot that had taken residence in Neville’s chest the previous evening expanded. Deliberately avoiding Vivian’s eyes, Neville directed the last of the repaired pots onto the workbench and tucked the re-bagged fertilizer back under the bench. He then brushed his hands off on his robes and nervously glanced around the greenhouse, searching for something else he could do. If he kept his hands busy, maybe the words wouldn’t hurt so much. He jumped when he felt a gentle touch on his arm.
“Neville? Where do you think my daughter would be safer? Here or at home?” Vivian asked quietly.
“I “ I don’t know,” Neville answered thickly. “I’ve never been to your home. But I can tell you she’s safe here.”
“If she was your daughter, where would you want her to be in a situation like this?”
Neville swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to the toes of his trainers. He had spent most of last night, not sleeping, staring at the insides of the curtains surrounding his bed, mulling over that very question. Oh, so selfishly, he wanted to answer the question in his favor. But he couldn’t.
“If it were my daughter, I would want her to be with me,” Neville answered quietly to his shoes.
Vivian heard the anguish in Neville’s words loud and clear. She studied the top of his down turned head, his slumped shoulders, his dirt stained robes. With her two older daughters, Vivian had long since given up trying to understand what her daughters saw in the men they chose. As long as the significant other treated them with respect and dignity, Vivian accepted her daughters’ happiness and went on from there. With Joanna, however, she was certain she could tell exactly what her daughter saw in Neville Longbottom. He had a heart with unfathomable depths and a devotion to match. Vivian knew, if she had hand picked the man Joanna would fall in love with, she couldn’t have done a better job of it herself.
Giving in, Vivian’s heart ached a little as she gently smiled. She knew the twinge was temporary. After all, while a mother’s heart tears with each tear her child sheds, it also repairs itself with each dimpling smile, peel of laughter and jump for joy.
“Are you almost done?” Vivian asked, glancing around the neat and tidy greenhouse.
“Y-yes,” Neville answered sadly.
“Good,” she said smartly. “I was hoping you could then join me in looking for Joanna’s father. Safety in numbers, you know.”
“Pardon?” Neville asked thoroughly confused.
“Well, when I tell Milton Joanna will be staying here, I’d like as much back up as I can muster. Shall we?”
Neville stared dumbly at Joanna’s mother for a brief second, a creeping suspicion sneaking across his stunned mind that his cheeks were now stained permanently red. Vivian smiled at him, watching the wheels turn behind his eyes and laughed when she saw them click into place. Neville smiled at her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Blevins,” he said solemnly.
“No, thank you, Neville. Now, take good care of her. She’s my baby, after all.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Neville answered seriously, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. “I will.”
“I know you will, Neville,” Vivian answered confidently, pushing the door to the greenhouse open. “I know you will.”
++++
“Bill!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Bill saluted, grinning up at Anna from his desk.
“You’re taking me to lunch,” Anna ordered, handing him his jacket from the hook on the wall.
“I am? Don’t you have a husband for that sort of thing?”
“I do. But he’s unavailable. He’s a really important professor, you know,” Anna smiled cheekily.
“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of him,” Bill replied, rolling his eyes as he slipped his arms into his coat. “But why me? I’ve got to get this report on my trip to Slovakia to my boss. She’s a stickler for deadlines.”
“I think I can pull some strings,” Anna assured him, holding the door into the hallway open for him. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
“Where are we going?”
“Fish and chips. I need grease,” Anna answered as they made their way through the lobby.
“That’s healthy,” Bill commented, nodding to the guard at the front doors of Gringotts.
“Look, I’ve tried eating fruits and vegetables. I’ve tried whole grains and high fiber and lean protein. And whatever I consume, it comes right back up. Grease stays down,” Anna shrugged. “I’m just going with what works.”
Fifteen minutes later, Bill and Anna were sitting in a small Fish and Chip shop a few blocks from Diagon Alley in Muggle London. Anna breathed in the aroma of salt and grease and malt vinegar and smiled widely. Picking up a chip, she took a bite, closed her eyes and moaned.
“Uh, Anna, we are in public, you know,” Bill said, setting the vinegar down on the table.
“Sorry,” Anna replied, her expression one of gastronomical delight. “Can’t help it. Have you tried it? It’s the best.”
Bill grinned and dug in.
Dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin, Anna caught the eyes of two young girls dressed in school uniforms stealing glances at Bill and giggling.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” Anna teased.
“What?” Bill asked, inspecting his front to see if he had dropped something down himself.
“You leave this trail of broken hearts in your wake wherever you go.” Anna motioned behind her napkin to the table off to their right.
Bill grinned at the girls, sending them into shocked, blushing silence followed by an eruption of giggles. Turning back to Anna, he picked up a piece of fish.
“So,” Bill said, “what did you want?”
“Past a lunch date?” Anna asked, sipping her lemonade. Taking a quick look around the restaurant, she carefully pulled out her wand and muttered, “Muffliato.”. Tucking her wand away, Anna leaned forward.
“I want you to come to Hogwarts and look over a charm.”
“What kind of charm?” Bill asked.
“Entrapment,” Anna answered, eating a chip casually.
Fish half way to his mouth, Bill stopped moving and blinked at Anna. He closed his mouth, swallowed and dropped the fish back into the paper tray. His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.
“Who’s doing Entrapment Charms, Anna?” he asked suspiciously.
“It’s just something Nathan is researching. Thought it would ““
“Anna, you’ve always been a rotten liar,” Bill interrupted. “Who’s doing Entrapment Charms?”
Anna picked up her napkin and wiped the shine off her fingers tips. Smoothing the paper back onto the table, she met Bill’s gaze. “Harry and Gin-“
“No! Absolutely not!” he said firmly, scrunching his napkin into a ball and shoving it into his empty cup.
“Bill ““
“No! I will not allow this!” Bill stood and gathered up his rubbish. “Entrapment Charms are not meant to be done by children ““
“They aren’t children! You know that!” Anna argued.
“Ginny is “ she’s underage!”
“Well, no, technically - “
“Bond or not, she’s only sixteen! Entrapment Charms require at least a half dozen trained wizards to do them properly. And if they go wrong, they do irreparable damage to the witches and wizards performing them. You know that. It’s why they’re practically considered Unforgiveables.” Bill barked as he stepped away from the table to dump his rubbish in the bin. “Not to mention, there’s the whole issue of what to entrap the soul in.” Suddenly he stopped and dropped the lid to the bin. He turned and glared at Anna. Hands still full of cardboard and fish bits, Bill came back to the table.
“What else?”
“What do you mean, ‘what else’?” Anna asked evasively.
“This is for “ for - why else would they be looking at it,” Bill deduced, slumping back into his seat and dumping the remains of his lunch back on the table. “An Entrapment Charm is used if there is a free spirit out there. How exactly are they planning on setting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s spirit free?”
Anna folded her hands in her lap. She licked the salt from her lips and calmly answered, “Obliteration Charm.”
“Are you insane?” Bill shouted incredulously causing Anna to jump. His eyes burned into hers as he leaned forward and placed his hands palm down on the table for leverage.
“No, quite sane, as a matter of fact,” Anna answered, holding her ground. “They’ve worked out a brilliant bit of spell work, actually.”
“They?” Bill asked, sitting back in his chair.
“Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Joanna and Luna, for the most part. Nathan and I have helped, but it was really the kids who did the leg work.”
“Who’s Joanna?”
“Neville’s girlfriend. Lovely girl. Wants to be a healer,” Anna explained, folding her hands on the table in between them.
“Anna, Catarina died performing an Obliteration Charm,” Bill sputtered.
“Bill, we think we have a way around that ““
“You think you have a way around it? Anna, that sounds like you’ve discovered a tomb cave-in and need to find an alternative route!”
“Alright “ poor choice of words. Hermione determined their blood protection would protect Ginny. I really ““
“Wait “ I thought Harry had the blood protection,” Bill interjected.
“He does. But when they bonded, Harry passed his mother’s protection onto Ginny. It’s a blood flow thing,” Anna said, sweeping her hands out in front of her and sending her cup flying. Ice cubes surfed across the table, into Bill’s lap and onto the floor. “Oh, crap, sorry,” she said, scooping the ice on the table back into the cup. “Look, Bill,” Anna said, righting the cup again, “Harry and Ginny are determined to do this. I want to make sure we haven’t missed anything. Will you come take a look at it? Please?”
Bill sighed heavily and brushed the ice off his shirt. “Anna, do they know what this will take? How much power, how much training? Do they know what will happen if it doesn’t work? I mean, if they can’t capture it, his spirit could be free floating, out there “ Merlin, it could be disastrous.”
“That’s what I’m hoping you could help with, Bill. I don’t want you to scare them. They’re quite determined to do this. And I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think we were on the right track,” Anna pleaded. “Bill, you know Entrapment Charms like nobody’s business. You’ll be able to catch anything we’ve missed and can give some tips and pointers for training. They listen to you, Bill. They trust you and respect you. You’re good. Please, Bill?”
Anna watched as the emotions crossed Bill’s face. She read the anger in his clenched jaw and white knuckles. She could see the fear in the glistening perspiration on his forehead. She heard the sound of acceptance in his sigh.
“You really think this will work?” he asked resigned.
Anna nodded.
“Exactly how do you propose for them to be able to amass enough strength to entrap a spirit, especially one that is so steeped in evil?”
“They’ll be bonded,” Anna answered simply. She held her breath as she watched the implications of that roar through Bill. She felt the most inappropriate urge to grin as she watched the war of conflicting emotions parade across Bill’s visage. She had him.
“Alright. I’ll come look.”
Anna smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you, Bill. You’ll be impressed.”
“Hmm…” Bill commented unconvinced.
“You know they’ll do it with or without you, right?” Anna said, gathering up her rubbish and standing up.
“Yeah, I know,” Bill said, following suit. “She’s my sister. Runs in the family.”
+++++
Neville paced the common room, a funny sort of restrained bounce breaking through every fifth or sixth step.
“Are you alright, Neville?” Seamus asked, as he made his way through to the portrait hole. “Something funny in the punch last night?”
“No, I’m fine,” Neville answered, his cheeks straining from an effort to maintain a normal expression.
“Right,” Seamus said, nodding slowly. “Well, if it keeps up, you might want to see Madam Pomfrey.”
“No need, thank you,” Neville answered as the portrait hole swung shut.
The discussion with Mr. Blevins had not gone well, to say the least. Well, truthfully, it hadn’t gone at all, at least not with him in the room. Milton Blevins had very politely, yet quite firmly, told him this was a family discussion and no matter what his relationship was with his daughter, Neville was not family.
“You’re wearing out the carpet, there, Neville,” Harry observed, plopping down on the couch opposite the fireplace where Neville was turning around.
“Yup,” Neville answered. “How’s your suspension going?”
“Fine,” Harry answered, opening his Charms book and propping it against his bent knee. “Lots of time to study, you know,” he answered looking up at Neville. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” Neville answered, bouncing once.
“You’re bouncing, you know,” Harry observed.
“Can’t help it.”
“I’m sure Madam Pomfrey can give you something for that.”
“No, she can’t,” Neville said.
“No, really “ I’m sure she can,” Harry assured him.
“Don’t want to get rid of it,” Neville said, turning.
“Alright,” Harry said, turning back to his book.
Joanna had entered the empty classroom where her parents were waiting as Neville left. She shot him a confused, slightly hurt look until she glanced at her father’s expression and sighed. Then, just because she could, Joanna caught Neville’s hand and pulled him to a stop. She had kissed his cheek.
Neville stopped, and lifted his fingers to his cheek for just the length of time of the soft kiss and then to his ear. He grinned.
Ron came to stand behind the couch where Harry sat and hit him in the shoulder. “Harry,” he said, motioning at Neville. “He’s at it again.”
“What? Bouncing?” Harry asked, looking up.
“Oh, Merlin, he’s bouncing now, too? I meant the stupid grinning. But he’s bouncing? I’m sure Madam Pom-“
“I’m not going to Madam Pomfrey for this!” Neville shouted.
“Alright,” Ron said, holding his hands up and backing away.
Neville’s heart had felt like a Beater’s bat had been taken to it repeatedly. Joanna was going home. The thought of Hogwarts without her was just plain…awful. Then, at the back of the room, Joanna had breathed into his ear and his mind had cleared in an instant.
Ginny fell into the sofa and leaned against Harry who grunted slightly as he shifted to allow her to fit against him comfortably. Absent mindedly he leaned down slightly to place a kiss on the top of her head. She grinned into his shirt as her eyes followed Neville.
“Neville?”
Neville glared at Ginny, daring her to comment, as he bounced and paced.
I love you, Neville Longbottom.
“Neville? You alright?” Ginny asked concerned, as Neville paused, turned, and marched to the portrait hole.
“I’m fine!” Neville shouted as he climbed out of the hole.
“What’s up with him?” Ginny asked.
“He’s in love,” Ron complained from amidst a pile of parchment and books on the table behind them.
“Ah,” Ginny nodded, grinning up at Harry. “Lucky guy.”
“I’ll say,” Harry commented, leaning down to kiss her.
From behind them, a solid “THUNK” was heard as Ron propped a book up on the table, blocking them from view.
++++
I love you, Neville Longbottom.
Panting, Neville skidded to a stop in front of the classroom door where he had left Joanna and her parents. He might not be able to do anything about her father’s decision to take Joanna home, but at least he could tell her he would wait for her “ and find out if she would wait for him.
Gulping air, Neville straightened his tie. He tasted sweat on his upper lip and wiped it on the sleeve of his robes. Swallowing hard, he pushed the door open. At first glance, he thought the room was empty. He whirled around and grabbed the door handle to try someplace else.
“Neville? Are you alright?”
“NO!” Neville shouted, turning back and freezing, his face draining all color as he realized Joanna was sitting in the front row of seats, her expression a mixture of concern and shock at his answer.
Joanna recovered first. “Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”
Neville dropped the door handle and chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he grinned, “you’re not the first person to ask me that question.”
“Oh,” Joanna furrowed her brow.
“Where are your parents?” Neville asked, making his way through the desks.
“They, uh, went to see Professor McGonagall.”
Neville nodded and sat down next to her on the bench. Joanna leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulders and melting. She smiled as she felt his arms encircle her, protecting her, pulling her closer.
Neville’s voice cracked as he started to speak. “I wa “ wanted to tell you something before you left.”
“I’m not leaving.”
She felt him go still, his heart thumping under her cheek, his arms tightening around her. Joanna held her breath.
“Y- you’re not leaving?” Neville winced as his voice squeaked.
Joanna shook her head into his robes.
“Really?”
“Really!” She leaned back so she could look up at him, a smile growing from her heart and spreading ear to ear.
“Why? What happened?” Neville could feel his cheeks stretching into a matching smile.
“My mother told my father I had a knight in shining armor who could take good care of me right here.”
“She didn’t!” Neville blushed furiously.
Joanna laughed at Neville’s red face, and leaned up to kiss him. “I love you, Neville. That’s what she told him. Along with lots of other extremely rational arguments about safety precautions and classes and needing to live our lives and not stop because of the war-“
“I love you, too.”
Joanna stopped mid-sentence and blinked at Neville. She closed her eyes and let the words melt over her, like ice cream, filling in all the cracks and holes. She bit her bottom lip and smiled, her cheeks warming with blush.
“Joanna? Are you alright?”
Joanna nodded enthusiastically, opening her eyes and meeting Neville’s. Leaning in, she whispered against his lips, “I’m very alright.”
++++
Anna polished her glasses on the front of her pajamas and slipped them back on her nose. Nathan smiled at his wife as he crawled into bed next to her. He loved Anna in her glasses. She complained they made her look old. He told her they made her look sexy.
Anna glanced over at him and rolled her eyes at him over the rims. “Sexy as a school marm,” she sighed.
“I’m a professor,” Nathan answered. “School marm is a look I like.”
“I’ll be sure to let Professor McGonagall know that,” Anna answered dryly
Nathan leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek and rubbed her stomach.
“I am not a Buddha.”
“Not yet,” Nathan grinned, settling back against his pillows and opening his book. “Did you talk to Bill today? What did he say?”
“He’ll come. He’s not terribly pleased with the whole scenario, but who can blame him.”
“Will he tell the Order?”
“Didn’t ask. Do we have to tell them?” Anna asked, looking up from her book. She sighed at Nathan’s look. “Right. I know. We have to tell them.”
“Hey, I don’t run the Order. I’m probably lucky to still be in the Order. They deserve to know for several reasons.”
“Can we get Dumbledore to tell them?”
“Probably, but it’s still us at the center.”
“And when they say no?”
“We figure out a way to do it anyway.”
“Crap.”
“You expected me to say we figure out something different?”
“No. Not really.”
Anna heard Nathan flip a page in his book and return to reading. Anna’s mind wandered, her thoughts straying to the far corners of possibility.
“There isn’t another way, is there?”
“I don’t know, Anna. I wish there was. I wish I knew.”
“Dumbledore says this is good, right?”
“He does. But he’s been known to be wrong.”
“You say it’s good, right?”
“Yes, but my track record isn’t all that stellar either. Do you think it’s good?”
Anna bit her bottom lip and thought about it for a moment before nodding. “And Bill will, too.”
“Then, as Muggle lawyers say, we’ve done our due diligence.”
“I hope so.”
Nathan returned to his book. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Anna, her hand resting on her stomach, her eyes staring into space.
“Stop thinking about it, Anna. We can’t do anything more tonight.”
“I know,” Anna replied vaguely, her mind still working.
Nathan let her stew for another five minutes before he realized she wasn’t going to let it go on her own. Closing his book, he placed it on the table next to the bed. Rolling over, he put his arms around his wife and dragged her down next to him. Anna closed her eyes and sighed as he nuzzled her neck. Reaching up to take her glasses off, he stopped her.
“Leave those on.”
“Why?”
“Makes it easier to picture you as Minerva.”
Anna dissolved into giggles and gave herself up to Nathan.
++++
Several nights later, Bill stood at the top of the Astronomy Tower letting the crisp, cold air slither its way under his jumper. He shivered slightly and wrapped his arms around his chest. He had needed the fresh air. The chalkboards had driven him up here. The lines, the spells, the implications. He had entered the Room of Requirement with a sense of dread. He had left it feeling no better.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected. He snorted as he realized he just didn’t want to be the one to tell his mother. He had stood there, his back to the others, reading the lines, processing the movements and the incantations and he had to admit Anna had been right. This was not just some desperate attempt to fix a bothersome problem. No, the spell work on these boards was beautiful in its intricacy. It was forceful and final and very, very dangerous.
Bill had felt his heart speed up. His vision had become blurred at the edges; his breathing, shallow. He had stepped back and swallowed hard. He nodded once and turned on his heel. Without saying a word, he had pushed the door open to the Room of Requirement and exited.
His sense of unease froze in the night air. He knew it was temporary. The moment he returned to the room and looked at the spells again, his chest would erupt in a mixture of panic and fear and unexplainable excitement. He swallowed and titled his head forward, stretching the taught muscles of his neck. Yes, he found it exciting and the guilt that came with that realization burned deep. He swore at Anna under his breath. He knew she had known that if he saw it, he would be sucked in. She knew him that well. And she had been right.
The spells were powerful. The amount of magic required to perform one of the spells, let alone both “ well, under different circumstances, he would stand in line to meet the witch and wizard who could perform them. And to think - it was his little sister and the boy who held her heart. Bill exhaled, his breath smoking out in front of him. To the best of his knowledge, this could work but he hesitated to say it would work. He, much like everyone in that room, could not guarantee it. But it was as solid as anything he could have come up with.
Over his shoulder, he heard the door open and someone join him. Bill turned and was surprised to see Harry standing there alone. Bill cleared his throat.
“I think it will work,” he said hoarsely.
Bill watched Harry as he nodded and took a step forward. He looked as if he wanted to say something but did not know what words to put together. In the moonlight, Bill could see the concern and worry etched in Harry’s face, the same emotions running rampart through him, too. Knowing Harry had the same appreciation for the implications of the spell did not ease his anxiety, but it did give Bill a sense of purpose. Harry was not taking this lightly and neither was he.
“Thanks,” Harry replied, coming to a stop beside Bill, “for coming and looking at it. It “ it means a lot to Ginny to know you think it’s good.”
“And you?” Bill asked.
His hands fisted at his side, Harry’s eyes steadily met Bill’s as he answered forcefully, “I will do whatever it takes to make sure she is safe. I am not going to lose her.”
Bill was not sizing Harry up “ after all these years, Harry had nothing to prove to him “ but as he stood there, he kept his gaze locked with Harry’s, a sense of togetherness welling up inside him. Bill lifted his hand and placed it on Harry’s shoulder. He felt an odd sense of déjà vu as he nodded and spoke.
“She’s going to be alright.” Harry nodded as Bill have his shoulder a pat. “Come on, we should get back. We’ve got work to do.”
His hand on Harry’s shoulder, Bill steered Harry back through the door to the castle.
++++
Lucius Malfoy sat, toying with the top of his cane. He would pace, but he found walking to be painful, every step a reminder of why he was waiting in his study for his son in the first place. He drummed his fingers on the top of his desk impatiently. It had been three days before he had heard Draco had been suspended. Draco, who had chosen to spend his suspension at Hogwarts. Lucius knew why. His son was nothing. His son was a coward.
Lucius had sent word to Dumbledore to send Draco home. His request had at first been turned down by Dumbledore “ something about it being unsafe for students to travel to and from school presently. Lucius would have laughed at that owl had he been in better shape. He was, after all, part of the reason it was unsafe. No, Lucius was rather sure Dumbledore knew what was waiting for Draco at home, and in his ‘mis-guided’ way, was trying to protect him. It wasn’t Dumbledore’s place to protect his son. He had been forced to call in a few favors and Snape had seen to it that Draco was sent home for the remaining two days of the suspension.
Lucius preferred to do this in the privacy of his own home. Not to spare Draco the embarrassment of discipline at school. No, it was not that. In the privacy of his own home, in his own study, Lucius could administer the punishment befitting the crime. Within the walls of Hogwarts, under the ever present watch of too many eyes, he would not have been able to do what was appropriate.
As the door to his study opened, Lucius remained with his back to it. He listened to Draco’s footfalls, allowing the embers smoldering within his body to erupt into flame, mixing with the lingering pain inflicted on him by his Master for the wrong doing he had not committed. The door closed and his face cracked.
“Father.”
“Do not call me that,” Lucius hissed. “You have no right to call me that after what you did.”
“I - I don’t understand,” Draco answered, attempting to keep the fear, which he knew would incite his father more, out of his tone. “What did I do?”
Lucius stood and turned, his eyes blazing, his wand pointed at his son’s chest.
“Do you realize that by kidnapping the Weasley chit, you almost cost me my life?” Lucius growled, leaning heavily on his cane, limping a step toward his son. Draco took a step back. “Do you realize,” he repeated, his chest heaving, his wand wavering with each word, “if you had harmed her, or killed her, we would all be dead now?”
“I was never going to hurt her,” Draco pleaded, backing up until he felt the wood of the door against his shoulder blades. “After I finished with Potter, I was going to bring her to the Dark Lord ““
“YOU ARE NOT FIT TO SAY HIS NAME!” Lucius bellowed, spittle spraying forth as he formed the words. “She can heal him. She can give him what he wants,” he barked, “and you almost took that away.”
Draco slid down the door, until he was cowering before his father, his hands shielding his head. Lucius shook his head in repulsion at his son.
“You disgust me,” he snarled as his foot lashed out, a sickening crack filling the silence as toe met rib. Draco fell to the side, his arms hugging his middle, pitiful moans of pain emitting from his mouth.
Raising his wand, Lucius aimed for his son. “Pathetic,” he sneered, before he delivered the remainder of his message.
++++
A/N “ My many, many thanks to wvchemteach for all his comments and suggestions and to Anya for catching all those missing quotation marks, extra words and missing letters.
Next Chapter - A new career path for Harry? Stay tuned...