Neville spent the entirety of the journey to London in Mr Weasley’s flying car in silence. Sirius tried to chat to him about the car and Mr Weasley’s modifications and how they worked, but the conversation was entirely one-sided. Neville just sat staring out of the window, at the lights of the towns and cities passing below them. Eventually the land below became just one vast sea of light; they were over the sprawling conurbation of London. Slowly, they descended on the city, and the lights began to reveal streets and buildings, homes and offices.
Sirius briefly turned off the car’s headlights to hide their descent from any Muggles out late at night. He brought the car down on the edge of a deserted park. It was now after midnight. “We’ll have to stay land-bound for the last five minutes of the journey,” he explained. “They’ll keep watch on us from above.”
Sirius took the car out of the park and drove on through quiet residential streets. Eventually, they came to a square surrounded on all sides by tall terraced houses. Neville looked up to read the plaque on the wall that gave the square’s name: Grimmauld Place. Sirius parked the car outside number eleven.
The others on their brooms landed in the centre of the square. Neville and Sirius got out and unloaded Neville’s trunk. “So which house is it?” Neville asked.
In answer, Moody handed Neville a small piece of parchment. “Read this,” he said.
Neville looked at the parchment. In spidery handwriting, it read The Order of the Phoenix has its headquarters at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. He looked up, searching for number twelve and wondering why Moody couldn’t have just told him. To his surprise, on either side of number eleven were number ten and number thirteen. There was no number twelve.
He was about to ask Moody what was going on when something astonishing happened. Numbers eleven and thirteen began to move. The two houses began to push apart, as if being pulled by some invisible hands. The Muggles in the houses remained oblivious as between their dwellings a new building emerged, forcing itself out into the space created. Eventually, the effect stopped, and it was as if there had always been a number twelve on Grimmauld Place. Neville had never seen such magic before.
Moody hurried him up to the front door. Neville was rather disturbed to see that the door knocker was in the shape of a snake. Inside, he found himself in a long, narrow hallway. The walls were grimy and the wallpaper on them was peeling. A succession of family portraits hung on the walls; they all looked strangely familiar to Neville. At the end of the hallway, Neville found himself at the foot of a long staircase. A further staircase in front of him led down to a kitchen. “Sirius, take Neville up to his room,” ordered Moody. “I’ve got to set up for the meeting. We’re late back; people should be arriving soon.”
Sirius, carrying Neville’s trunk, led the way up the stairs. The walls were lined with what looked like hunting trophies, but on closer inspection, Neville was shocked to see they were in fact house-elf heads. “What is this place?” he asked.
Sirius sighed. “This would be my old family home,” he said. “The official residence of the noble family of the Blacks.” There was heavy sarcasm in his voice. “I’m the only one left now, which is no bad thing.” Neville remembered Harry telling him about the Black family and Sirius’ rebellion. “I hate coming back here,” Sirius continued, “but Dumbledore needed a headquarters for the Order, and there’s no more secure home in Britain than here. My parents strongly discouraged visitors.”
They reached the second floor. “But if this is your old family home,” said Neville, remembering, “then does that mean...”
The door in front of them opened, and a man stepped out. He looked quite different to when Neville had seen him last: he was wearing smart clothes and his face was clean and shaven, but there was still a tiredness in his eyes. “I thought I heard voices. Yes, I am here, Neville,” said Remus Lupin.
“Mr Lupin! How are you?” asked Neville. He had not seen Remus in over a year, not since the dramatic night when he’d discovered the truth about him, and Pettigrew had escaped.
“Well enough,” Lupin replied. “I’ve made this place my home as best I can, and there’s a place in the cellar for my, er, monthly needs, but I’m still a fugitive, so I can’t go out. Sirius supplies me with everything I need.”
“Another reason to have the Order here,” added Sirius. “Remus needs the company. He’s a member of the Order too, ever since the war. Like me.”
“Neville!” a voice cried from behind Lupin. From another door emerged Harry Potter, hair all tangled in a mess and a beaming smile on his face. He rushed up to greet Neville. “Great to see you. How are you? Sirius told me everything that happened. Are you all right?”
“Can I just go to my room?” mumbled Neville. He was tired and miserable and just wanted to be alone.
Sirius, Remus and Harry exchanged glances. “Come on, Moony,” said Sirius. “The meeting’s starting in a minute. You’ll be bunking in with Harry; he’s staying here as long as I am. I couldn’t leave him at home on his own, not with things the way they are at the moment.”
Sirius and Remus headed off downstairs and Harry showed Neville into the room they’d be sharing. It was a little cleaner than the rest of the house, but more untidy as a lot of Harry’s clothes and school things were strewn about the floor. Neville sat down on the bed opposite Harry’s and opened his trunk to find his pyjamas. He did so in silence, not even acknowledging Harry who sat across from him with a look of sympathy on his face.
“Doesn’t do you good to bottle it up, Neville,” said Harry at last. “Come on, talk about it. Let it out. Shout if you want to. It’d be good for you.”
“I don’t want to,” said Neville quietly.
“Okay, then let’s talk about something else. Are you looking forward to going back to Hogwarts? We’ve got OWLs this year, of course, but it won’t be all bad.” No reply from Neville. “Who do you suppose the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be? How are you and Ginny getting along? Anything?”
“I just want to go to bed,” replied Neville.
“Fine, suit yourself.” Harry gave up. He doesn’t understand, thought Neville. He can’t understand. My world’s come to an end. Who cares about anything else?
There was a sound from below them of the front door opening. “That’ll be people arriving for the Order meeting,” said Harry. “Let’s go and spy on them; see who’s come.” He got up and made for the door. Neville didn’t move. “No, you’re coming with me whether you like it or not,” insisted Harry, seizing Neville’s sleeve. “You can’t sit around in silence the whole time.” Reluctantly, Neville allowed himself to be dragged out by Harry onto the landing, where they leaned over the banisters and peered down the long staircase to the ground floor.
The first two wizards to pass by, Neville did not know, and were identified by Harry as Dedalus Diggle and Sturgis Podmore. They were followed by a witch Neville recognised as his Muggle Studies teacher. “Professor Burbage is in the Order?” Neville asked.
“Sirius invited her,” said Harry. “I think the two of them are getting quite close.”
A couple of minutes later, they heard the door open again and, to Neville’s surprise, Mr and Mrs Weasley came into view. A tall, similarly red-headed boy pushed past them onto the stairs and looked up. “Ron!” yelled Harry and dashed down the stairs to meet his best friend. Neville followed.
“Harry! They said you’d be here,” said Ron. “Hello, Neville.”
“Neville!” a voice cried behind Ron. Ginny Weasley burst past her brother and wrapped Neville in a massive hug. “Oh, hi Harry,” she added in a surly tone, looking disdainfully at him as she continued to hug Neville.
Neville was suddenly acutely aware that a whole host of Weasleys were staring at him. Mr Weasley and the twins, who were also there, were grinning broadly. Mrs Weasley had a hesitant expression and Ron had suddenly become extremely interested in his shoes.
“We’re all staying here tonight,” said Mr Weasley eventually by way of explanation. You’d better show them to their rooms, Harry, while we start the meeting.”
“Right. Well if the First Marauders are in a meeting of their own, then I think the Second Marauders ought to have one too,” said Fred. “Lead the way, Prongs.”
Ginny shook her head. “Six Marauders under the same roof. It’s a wonder this place doesn’t just collapse now.”
They were all turning to head back upstairs when, down the hallway, the front door opened once more. A figure in dark robes, his face in shadow, stepped through the door and advanced down the hall. As his face came into the light, Neville blanched. It was Severus Snape.
Neville, in terror, turned to flee. He tried to dash back up the stairs, but his way was blocked by Ron and Harry. “Run, everyone!” he shouted. “Run!” But nobody moved. “It’s Snape, run!” he yelled again.
“Neville, what are you talking about?” asked a puzzled Mr Weasley.
“He’s a Death Eater, he’ll kill us all!” cried Neville, shaking with fear.
“Neville, Professor Snape is a member of the Order of the Phoenix,” said Mr Weasley calmly.
“What? No!” Neville looked at Snape, who stared back at him with his dark, piercing eyes. His face was impassive. “He was there in the graveyard. He tried to kill me! Stop him!” Snape just shook his head slowly and walked on by to join the others. “Does no one believe me?” pleaded Neville. He was breathing heavily, and at any moment he expected Snape to turn around and fire a curse at him.
“We believe you, Neville,” said Mrs Weasley sympathetically, “but Dumbledore has vouched for him. He’s assured us Snape is on our side.”
“He’s wrong,” gasped Neville. He turned and ran back to his bedroom, where he fell on his bed crying in fear and frustration. Had everyone gone mad? Why could they believe Snape was good, when Neville knew what he seen? What was Dumbledore playing at? He lay on his bed shivering, until eventually he cried himself to sleep.
That night he dreamed of the graveyard once more, of the horror of Cedric’s death, the pain of Voldemort’s curses, and of Snape standing beside his master and condemning Neville to death, and asking to be permitted to do the deed himself. Neville awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and could not get back to sleep again.
In the morning, he had breakfast in the kitchen with the Weasleys, Remus, Sirius and Harry. He talked only to Ginny, and only briefly. He told her about the Dementor attack, and how he’d been collected from home. Mr Weasley, overhearing, was keen to ask how his car had performed, but Neville just shrugged and it was left to Sirius to tell him.
Sirius then told Neville he’d heard about his reaction to Snape, and proceeded to launch into a massive tirade against the Potions Master. From what he said (and no one contradicted him), the vast majority of the Order of the Phoenix were absolutely incensed about the presence of Snape in their midst, after what Neville had reported about the graveyard, but none of them were prepared to defy Dumbledore. Dumbledore had offered no explanation for his trust of Snape, but had insisted the Order take him on his word. Snape had offered himself as a spy within the Death Eaters, but Sirius refused to trust him one bit, and claimed to have been the only one to directly confront Dumbledore on the subject, but Dumbledore had dismissed his protests. Sirius was particularly furious that Dumbledore had permitted him access to headquarters past all the security measures. “We may not be able to stop him coming,” Sirius said, “but we’re doing our best to keep any important information from him. Though what Dumbledore is telling him, I don’t know.”
Neville was pleased that others took the same view as him on Snape, although Sirius had always loathed Snape anyway. Neville was convinced Snape would try to kill him at the first opportunity, and vowed to do everything he could not to give him a chance.
The subject moved on to Neville’s hearing at the Ministry, which led Mrs Weasley to ask Neville how he was coping with all the attention. “What?” said Neville.
“He doesn’t know, Molly,” said Sirius. “Augusta kept it from him.”
“Well, he has to know,” insisted Mrs Weasley. “He has to be ready for what he’s going to face.”
“Very well,” said Sirius. “Listen, Neville. The Ministry of Magic refuses to believe that Voldemort is back.” Neville stared at him incredulously. “Cornelius Fudge is a frightened, weak man, Neville. He knows what Voldemort did the last time he had power. He cannot bear the thought of his return. So he is denying everything that you and Dumbledore have said. In fact he’s going further than that.” Sirius produced a copy of the Daily Prophet and showed the front page to Neville. The headline read: DUMBLEDORE: LIAR OR FOOL? Underneath, half way down the page, a smaller headline read: THE BOY-WHO-LIVED AND HIS TRAUMA-INDUCED FANATASIES.
“Using his leverage over the Daily Prophet, Fudge has instigated a smear campaign against Dumbledore,” Sirius explained. “He’s become paranoid that Dumbledore is out to take over the Ministry. So he’s set out to discredit him and, by extension, you.”
“They’re using the same line Rita Skeeter used against you last year: that you’re somehow traumatised and half-mad, and that seeing Cedric die caused you to make the whole thing up for some reason,” said Harry. Neville didn’t reply.
“We believe this hearing is Fudge’s latest attempt to attack you and Dumbledore,” continued Sirius. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure you’re cleared.”
Why bother, thought Neville, but he said nothing. He wasn’t even surprised. It was just another piece of evidence that the world had gone completely mad.
He left the kitchen intending to go back to his room, but on the stairs he almost tripped over a small creature coming in the other direction. “Another invader in my mistress’s house,” muttered the creature. “Werewolves, blood traitors and Mudbloods all.” Neville looked down to see that it was in fact a house-elf. The elf was ancient and gnarled and the rag he wore was black with grime.
He looked up at Neville as Neville stood over him. Seeing the scar on Neville’s forehead his eyes widened. “Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived,” he said with a rasping voice. “Scourge of pure-bloods; the boy who ended the Dark Lord’s reign. How did he do it, Kreacher wonders, and what will become of him now the Dark Lord has returned?”
If only I knew, thought Neville. If only I knew.
Neville Longbottom and the Order of the Phoenix by Sonorus
Chapter Notes:In which Neville arrives at Grimmauld Place, and is reunited with old friends and a foe.
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