He had not expected to see Harry on the train, nor Hermione either, but it was with a kind of desperation that Neville searched for the others. Although a calmer, more rational part of his mind insisted that he would have heard if something fatal had befallen one of his friends, he felt the need to see their safety with his own eyes.
The corridor of the Hogwarts Express was nearly deserted as he hurried along, trying to keep a firm grip on Trevor and his luggage as he briefly opened the door to each compartment. Most of the students were already hidden away, gathered in groups consisting of family and friends. The fear that held them in its thrall was evident: one little first year actually fell off his seat as Neville unexpectedly peered inside his compartment, and a third-year Ravenclaw went so far as to unconsciously raise her wand. Neville couldn’t blame them; with all of the rumors running wild about the Ministry and He Who Must Not Be Named, tensions were running at an all-time high. Even some of the Slytherins looked decidedly queasy.
It was with a heart pounding in relief that Neville finally caught a glimpse of red and blond. Quickly closing the door behind him, he collapsed in a heap beside Luna, across from Ginny, while Trevor escaped from his grasp and hopped madly beneath the seat.
“Neville,” Ginny greeted him with a look of relief that seemed to match his own. “Luna and I were just about to go looking for you.” Neither of the girls needed to voice their concern for him to understand. The three of them had fought openly against Death Eaters just months before: their safety, these days, was questionable at best.
As the train began to move, silence fell. Ginny stared out the window; Luna read the paper. It was with a burst of surprise that Neville saw the latest issue of the Quibbler lying discarded on the seat beside her. It was the Daily Prophet that was open “ and right side up “ in her hands.
“Started reading the Prophet, Luna?” Neville tried to hide the surprise in his voice. It was well known among her friends what Luna thought of the Daily Prophet.
“Daddy says that even the most rubbish sources can be good for something.” She lifted the paper, and Neville saw a picture of Snape smiling cruelly up at him. “He says that as long as we know what they want us to think, we can find ways to use it against them.”
“It’s so unfair,” Ginny said fiercely as she gestured towards the image of Snape. “He killed Dumbledore, and instead of being punished, he gets rewarded. McGonagall should be Headmistress.” She laughed, the sound bitter in the air. “For goodness’ sake, even Trelawney would be better than Snape!”
“I was surprised to hear that he’s let McGonagall and the others stay on, rather than replacing them all with Death Eaters like the Carrows,” Neville replied with a frown.
“They don’t want to be too obvious,” Luna said idly, not looking up from her paper. “They were very quiet about taking over the Ministry, too. If Snape were to appoint all of his friends, everyone would know that You-Know-Who has taken over. It makes for a much smoother transition, this way.”
“It’s going to be so weird without Dumbledore as Headmaster,” Ginny said quietly. “Not like before, with the Chamber of Secrets or Umbridge, when everyone knew he was out there trying to make things right. This time, he’s really gone.”
Reminders of Dumbledore’s death seemed to hide around every corner, in Neville’s opinion. It was so clearly visible in all of the changes that had been made at Hogwarts, a constant reminder that the power of his presence could have kept the evil at bay. Now, with him dead, there would be a murderer in power, Death Eaters teaching children, and Muggle-borns banned from attending school. At that last thought, Neville held his breath for a moment and hoped fervently that all of his Muggle-born friends and classmates were safely in hiding, out of reach of both the Ministry and the Death Eaters.
With such dark thoughts racing through his head, the silence soon grew too uncomfortable for him to bear. “Ron should be back from the Prefects’ carriage by now, shouldn’t he?” he finally asked, grasping at the first thing that occurred to him.
Ginny gave him an odd look. “Ron’s with Harry and Hermione, wherever they’ve gone.” She laughed, and this time it was genuine. “The official story is that he’s ill with spattergroit. He didn’t want anyone taking it out on the family that he’s chosen to stick with Harry. You should see what he had Fred and George and Dad do to the family ghoul. It’s going to masquerade as him. It looks awful!”
“Oh.” Neville smiled weakly. He should have realized; it would take more to separate those three than a law requiring all students of wizard descent to attend Hogwarts.
“I wish I knew what their plans are,” Ginny said. “I keep hearing people say that Harry has disappeared because he’s trying to avoid the Ministry.” Her grim look told the others exactly what she thought of that.
Luna smiled. “They must not know him at all. Harry will be planning to fight, of course.”
There was no doubt at all in Neville’s mind that Luna was correct. Harry would, indeed, be laying his plans, or even putting them into action already. And Ron and Hermione would be right there beside him, while he and Ginny and Luna would be stuck at school, unable to aid him.
Neville knew that he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t scared of the thought of facing Death Eaters, but he had learned the hard way that some things were more important than fear. He had learned it in his fifth year at the Ministry of Magic, when his hatred of Bellatrix Lestrange had combined with Harry’s need for help, superseding the fear that might otherwise have debilitated him. He had learned it again in his sixth year, when Death Eaters had attacked Hogwarts itself and the Order of the Phoenix had needed their help in defending the school. Fear could be controlled. All it took was the knowledge that sometimes, you had to stand against it and refuse to give an inch, had to stand and do what you could because the alternative was worse than the fear.
“We should be fighting too.” He said the words before he could convince himself not to. His voice gained strength as he continued. “He’s going to come back. Harry’s going to come back, and when he does, he’ll try to take down Snape. We should be ready to help him.”
Luna finally set the Daily Prophet aside and regarded him seriously, waiting for him to continue. It was Ginny, however, who spoke next. “Dumbledore’s Army,” she whispered. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” She grinned. “Harry taught us, he trained us. It’s perfect! The DA will be working against the man who killed Dumbledore.”
“We’ll have to be careful,” Luna said thoughtfully. “About who we approach, I mean. Not Zacharias Smith, or anyone else who might give us away.”
“Definitely not Zacharias Smith,” Ginny agreed immediately. “But some of the others, we can definitely talk to some of the others.”
There was a light shining in Ginny’s eyes and a contented look on Luna’s face as they spoke. Neville understood them perfectly. They were not going to be completely useless in the war that hung on the horizon, after all. There was something that they could do to ease their frustrations with the changes that had been wrought, something that they could do to contribute to the efforts of the resistance against Voldemort. “It’s agreed, then,” he said, and there was nothing of questions in his voice, only the declaration of one who has chosen the path he means to take. “We’re going to fight against Snape.” There was no room “ no time “ for fear or uncertainty. Such emotions could come later.
“We fight,” agreed Ginny firmly. “For Harry. For Ron and Hermione. For Dumbledore.” She reached out to clasp one of Neville’s hands, and then turned to Luna.
“For all of our friends,” Luna said happily, taking each of their hands in her own. “For everyone.”
Silence hung heavy in the air as the three solemnly regarded one another. Their words held the promise of a vow that would not be broken, and the circle made by the clasping of their hands seemed to symbolize their unity of purpose. They would defy Snape “ and, through him, Voldemort “ right beneath his hooked nose.
Finally, they broke the circle and settled back into their seats. With the first decision made, Neville’s stomach gave a sudden lurch of something that seemed to be equally made of nerves and excitement. With voices pitched low, they began to weave their plans.
It was time, once again, to stand.