Title: Holding the Fort
Author: Pitry
Characters/Pairings: Neville Longbottom/ Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Hannah Abbott, Seamus Finnigan, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Augusta Longbottom, Dean Thomas
Rating: PG
Warnings: none.
Summary: And all that year, when Neville spoke out, the one thing that he asked himself was: What would Harry have done?
Author's note: Written for the 2012 Reversathon for CJ.
With huge thanks to my beta, kjmom1! All mistakes are mine.


Part 1 - A New World Order

The first thing Neville Longbottom did when he returned home for the summer holidays was renew his grandmother's subscription to the Daily Prophet.

"There's nothing there worth reading," his gran muttered.

"I know, Gran," he said. "But when something happens, we'll see it there first."

He turned out to be right not two months later. Neville usually slept late on Saturday mornings, but on the morning of the second of August, his gran walked into the room at 6 a.m. and opened the curtains.

"What is it?" he mumbled, still half-asleep.

In response, she just handed over her copy of the Daily Prophet.

There were two headlines in the front page. His eyes were drawn immediately to a big photograph of Harry Potter, smiling awkwardly, his hair untidy as ever. But his smile at Harry's photograph lasted only two seconds. It was wiped from his face as soon as he read the headline. Wanted for Questioning about Albus Dumbledore's Death.

"They can't possibly think he had anything to do with Dumbledore's death!" he said angrily.

"I don't think they care much for Dumbledore's death," his gran answered. "Read the other one."

Only then did his eyes fall on the second piece. Ministry reform: the Muggle-born registration commission. He read the article, growing angrier and angrier, and his anger didn't subside when he followed the piece to its conclusion on page two. He didn't say anything when he finished reading, and neither did his gran. She only spoke when she left the room. "So it's started, then," she said. He lay back in bed and closed his eyes, but whatever he did, he couldn't fall asleep again.

He just hoped Harry was safe, wherever he was.

The Quibbler reported the news as well, a couple of days later. Xenophilius Lovegood wrote that the Ministry had been overrun by Death Eaters, that Scrimgeour was dead, that Voldemort was behind the new policies, and that Harry had to run for his life. Who'd have thought, Neville thought gloomily, that they would reach the day the Quibbler made more sense than the Prophet.

He wasn't subscribed to the Quibbler, though. He never even considered it. It wasn't until Dean came visiting, magazine in hand, that he even remembered its existence and got to see that report.

The first knock on the door made Neville jump. Who could it be? It couldn't be - it couldn't be Death Eaters, he told himself off. They were pure-blood, his gran and he. They wouldn't come for them - at least, not yet. With that knowledge in his heart - but still clutching his wand - he opened the door.

"Dean!" he said in relief at the familiar face at the door.

"Can I come in?" Dean's voice was low, quiet, stressed. Now that Neville looked at his face, he could see that his expression was harassed, his eyes darting in every direction. He was nervous and he was afraid and he was on Neville's doorstep and all of a sudden Neville realised that if Dean was wanted by the Ministry, anyone could see him coming up to Neville's house. He nodded and showed him in.

Dean darted into the room. He only relaxed when he sat on the chair next to the kitchen table, far away from any window.

"Do you want anything?" Neville asked. "Water, tea, biscuits?"

"Coffee," Dean said, and Neville - who could finally use magic at home - touched his wand to the kettle and made a strong cup of coffee for Dean. He put some of his gran's chocolate biscuits on the table as well.

Dean drank from the coffee. Then he looked at Neville. "I got an owl from the Ministry," he said quietly.

Neville swore. "You're running for it?" he asked.

Dean nodded. "I thought of staying at first, I thought of going to the Ministry..."

"What? Whatever for? What could possibly make you go there?"

"My mum."

"Oh." Neville stared at his fingers for a moment. "What are you going to do?"

"I told her to go to her sister. She only lives in Brighton, but that's something. I hope..." Dean's voice broke. "I hope I'm not important enough. That if they can't find me, they won't go after her. She's a Muggle, man, she can't fight them. At first she was like 'Don't talk nonsense, what will I do all that time at Juliet's?' So I had to tell her what was going on, then the penny dropped - the Knut dropped, I guess. Then she said, 'I should never have let you go to that school'," he imitated his mother's voice.

Neville stopped looking at his fingers and looked at Dean, instead. "What are you going to do?" he asked again.

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "I thought maybe leave the country. Or try hiding among the Muggles. Or... I don't know. I'll probably figure it out as I go along."

"You could stay here if you'd like," Neville said. "I'm sure Gran wouldn't mind."

"Thanks, but I can't - I can't put you in so much danger. They said in the paper what they do to... well. People who help people like me," he said the last words with unconcealed anger.

"Nonsense," this wasn't Neville - it was Gran, who came by the kitchen from her little garden at the back. "If you need a place to stay, you should remain here. We can keep them off."

"Thanks," Dean repeated. "But I think it's better I try on my own first. I do need..." his voice faltered. For a moment, he looked embarrassed. "My mum only had forty quid. And I don't have any Galleons at all, I meant to go change at Gringotts next week."

"I have just the thing," Gran said, then went to the drawer where she kept her emergency money. Neville knew the drawer - she had shown it to him when he came back from Hogwarts. 'If they come for us,' she had said, 'make sure to get this'. Now she took out the money and gave it all to Dean.

Dean's eyes widened when he took the little bag and saw the notes and heavy golden coins. "There must be two hundred quid in here!" he said in an awed voice.

"Two hundred and fifty," Gran said. "And fifty Galleons. Take it."

"I can't take all of it, that's too much, and what if you need it, I thought just maybe - "

"Take it," she looked at him sternly, the same way that always made Neville cower a bit under her gaze - even now, when it wasn't aimed at him. "I can go to Gringotts tomorrow and get some more. They won't say no to a Longbottom, and the Death Eaters are hardly going to come after us tomorrow. You take it now and put it to good use, like keeping yourself alive."

Dean nodded and put the small bag in his bigger one. "I'll pay you back," he said. "Every last Galleon. I promise."

"You just keep yourself alive, that'd be payment enough."

"Thank you," he said, then looked at Neville. "I better go."

Neville nodded. "Listen, if you're ever in a tight spot, if you need somewhere to run to, you can always come here."

"Thanks." He got up, and Neville got up after him. "I'll remember that. And Neville... if you see him, tell him good luck from me." He didn't say Harry's name, but he didn't have to. Neville understood.

"I'll do that," Neville promised. For a moment, the two of them simply stared at each other, then Neville hugged Dean. "Good luck," he said.

Dean nodded and left the little cottage.

The next time Neville had heard about him was two weeks later, when he saw Dean's name in the Prophet, in a list of Muggle-borns who failed to turn themselves in to the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. Hermione Granger's name was also on that list. It was the first time Neville had smiled since Dean had left his house.

He didn't have much to smile about the next couple of weeks, either. He exchanged a few owls with Ginny, but her letters said absolutely nothing. After the second one, he started suspecting she was afraid someone would intercept her letters, and so he stopped writing altogether. He sent an owl to Luna, too, but that one never got a reply. Instead, he got the newest copy of the Quibbler. There wasn't a single article about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks there. Or about Nargles. He felt somewhat upset at that, and didn't write to Luna again.

As a matter of fact, Neville had started wondering whether there would be any point in going back to Hogwarts - especially, a few days before the beginning of term, when the Daily Propher announced Severus Snape as the new headmaster. Maybe, he thought, he should join the fight. Like his parents had. He was of age now. He could fight. He should fight.

He told his gran that one evening. He couldn't remember her ever looking at him like that - with so much pride. The only time she looked even remotely as proud was the last summer, after she had heard what happened at the Ministry. But then she shook her head. "No, Neville," she said. "They say in the Prophet you have to finish your education. And finishing your education might not be such a bad thing."

"What - under Death Eaters?" he rebelled at the idea.

"Not everyone at that school is a Death Eater. And there are still things you could learn. Things that would help you fight them, later on. Don't rush into the fight before you're ready, Neville," she said. "I wouldn't want..." her voice shook, her face was full of sorrow, and Neville looked at her in shock. It was the first time in his life he had seen her looking anything other than stern and self-assured. "It's you and me now, Neville," she said at last. "Just you and me. I know you'll fight in the end. We all will. But you should be ready when you do."

"I will, Gran," he said and hugged her.

And so, on the first on September, he found himself standing as usual on Platform Nine and Three Quarters and boarding the Hogwarts Express. The first person he saw on the train - the first person he wanted to see - was Ginny Weasley. She was sitting in one of the compartments, completely alone, and looking miserable.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey, Neville," she answered, and he sat down next to her.

"How are you?"

She nodded, but didn't say anything.

"How's Ron?"

"He's got Spattergroit."

Neville opened his mouth to ask whether he really got Spattergroit, and was it possible that he was somewhere else - with other people - when Luna walked into the compartment. "Oh, hello," she said, as if surprised to see them. Neville and Ginny smiled at one another.

"Hello, Luna," Neville said, and Luna sat in front of them.

"How was your summer?" she asked, and then immediately continued to talk. "Mine was rather horrible. The Death Eaters came by our house a few times to try and convince my father to stop printing the paper. They were quite rude about it."

"Oh, Luna, that's terrible!" Ginny said.

"Yes, it was quite horrible . But my father told them he'd print whatever he liked, and that they were free not to read it if they didn't want to. But now we'll be around Death Eaters all the time," she sighed, then fixed her eyes on Neville. "We're not going to keep silent, are we?" she asked.

Neville thought about what his gran said. Waiting with the fight until they were ready. But then he thought, what would Harry do?

"Of course we won't," he said, sounding a lot more assured of himself than he felt. "We'll give them hell."

Luna's smile warmed his heart. "Oh, this is fantastic!" she said. "It would be like the DA again. I still have the coin, you see, I kept it - I'm not sure we could use them without Hermione's coin, of course..." her voice trailed and she looked around, as if expecting to see Hermione. "I do hope they're alright," she said quietly.

Silence descended on them.

They remained silent until they heard a knock on the door. Neville raised his head and saw, to his surprise, not Seamus - as he had expected - but Hannah Abbott.

It had been a long while since either of them had seen Hannah. She was taken out of Hogwarts not long after the beginning of the school year, almost a year ago - after her mother had died at the hands of Death Eaters. Her Muggle-born mother, Neville remembered with a pinch to his heart. She used to smile a lot before, wave her hair around her and her body shook with laughter. Now she looked sombre and worried, and her hair was tied in a bun above her head, not unlike Professor McGonagall.

"Can I... can I join you?" she asked quietly.

"Sure," Ginny said. Hannah walked in and sat next to Luna. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and instead tapped her foot nervously on the train floor.

"How are you?" Ginny asked gently.

Hannah smiled sadly. "I didn't want to come back," she said. "I didn't want to leave my dad alone. But the Death Eaters said I had to."

"Yeah, they made it mandatory," Neville offered. He wasn't quite sure what else to say.

"Not for everyone," Hannah said darkly, and then it all burst out of her. "It's my fault! They took Justin away and it's all my fault!"

"How can it be - it's not your fault!" Ginny said.

"It is, it is, he sent me an owl, he asked me what to do when he got the summons from the Ministry; he didn't know what to do, and I said... I said... I said it was the Ministry and if he just cooperated with them nothing bad would happen!" No one said anything. Hannah sat there, staring at her knees, and wrought her hands. "No one's seen him in two weeks," she said finally. "His family have no idea where he is."

"It wasn't your fault," Neville said, looking for something to say. "It's the Death Eaters, it's the Ministry. It's not your fault and it's not Justin's."

"It could have been my mum," Hannah said quietly. Neville had no answer for that.

"What about - your friend? Dean Thomas?" she asked at last.

"Ran for it," Neville answered, thinking of Dean. He wondered where he was now.

"Gryffindors," Hannah said softly. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Then she sniffed and looked up again at all of them. "I suppose Hermione Granger is with... with Harry?"

"Yeah," Ginny said quietly, almost as softly as Hannah's voice before. It was the first time any of them had mentioned Harry's name out loud.

"They're fighting, aren't they?"

"Yeah."

"I want to fight," Hannah said. "I know you're planning something, the three of you. Whatever it is. I want in. For my mum, and for - for Justin." She crossed her arms and challenged them with her glare.

Neville looked at Ginny for a moment, then at Luna. Then he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Alright. The more the merrier, eh?"

"Oh!" Luna said all of a sudden, and they all jumped.

"What is it?"

"The trolley lady already passed. I wanted a pumpkin pasty."

Neville and Ginny looked at each other and laughed. Even Hannah cracked a smile. "Come on, I'm hungry too." The two of them left.

Neville watched Luna go. He could almost believe she was the same way she'd always been, light-hearted and carefree, walking into the corridor, with her dirty blonde hair waving behind her. Perhaps this year, he thought, he'd finally pluck up the courage to ask her out. He doubted it, but it might just happen.

He put any question of asking Luna out of his mind, and focused on Ginny. Once again, the two of them were alone in the compartment. "Does he really have Spattergroit?" Neville asked quietly.

Ginny looked out the corridor, as if checking no one was in earshot outside, even though the compartment door was closed. "No," she said, just as quietly. "He's with Harry and Hermione."

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know."

"It's okay, Ginny, no one's here."

"I really don't know," she said, still quietly. "They wouldn't say. Even after - Remus said he saw them. Wouldn't tell us where they were, just that he saw them. And that they didn't tell him, either. Harry said..." she bit her lip.

"They are fighting him, though?"

"Yeah. I think - I think Dumbledore told Harry how he could defeat him. Before he died."

"Okay," Neville said.

By the time Luna and Hannah were back - with Seamus tagging along behind them - Neville and Ginny were deep in conversation about Quidditch. And by the end of the ride, when the train stopped in Hogsmeade station, the compartment was full of ex-DA members, and Neville's mood when he left the train and took the carriage to school was almost cheerful.

His good mood didn't last long. All it took was one look at Snape in the Headmaster's chair to quench it. McGonagall's hard expression, the Death Eaters at the table, and Snape's speech at the beginning of the feast did nothing to help his mood.

But none of it was as bad as when he and Seamus walked into the seventh-year boys' dormitories. There were five beds in the room, but only the two of them. To his left, the bed Dean always took. He could almost see him now, hanging his posters of Muggle sports teams and some of his drawings and joking with Seamus. To his right, Ron's bed, that always had heaps of clothes on it, even on the first day back. And next to it... he walked to Harry's bed. His fingers trailed on the wooden frame, on the red curtains. He sat on the bed heavily. This was all wrong. Harry should be here with them. But he was out there, running for his life, trying to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and they were stuck in here, and all of a sudden whatever they did to fight the Death Eaters from within Hogwarts seemed completely meaningless. A children's club, pretending to be grown-ups, playing make-believe and acting as if anything they could do would matter in the long run.

Neville and Seamus didn't exchange another word before they went to sleep.