Chapter 1

Dear Frank, 21 September 1974

I miss you. Hogwarts really isn't the same without you. I've never spent so much time studying before. How in Merlin's name did you get all your NEWT's with me around? I'm barely keeping up and I've been burying myself in the library because it really is lonely here without you.

How are you? I hope you and Benjy have been staying out of trouble. Say hello to him for me.

How is training? I know it's tough to be training with everything else happening—how do you think I feel when I open the Prophet every morning? Just do your best. I'm sure I'll be complaining next year when you're out on the job and I'll be stuck in training.

Cathy says hello. She says I've become boring without you. Rufus is quite liking not having you around though. I think he may have been rather jealous last year. I've seen him more in the last few weeks than the last six years. Bit annoying really, I don't think cats were meant to be clingy. There's fur everywhere.

I miss you.

Love,

Alice

Neville placed the aged parchment back in its dusty cream envelope, carefully creasing it with shaky hands. His grandmother's eyes had remained on him but he could not return her gaze, choosing instead to stare at the pile of letters laying in front of him—neat, plain envelopes from his mother and red and gold embellished envelopes from his father.

'Why now?' Neville said, his voice cracking slightly. 'It's been years… you gave me Dad's wand, Mum's books, all their pictures.'

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his grandmother turn away. She would never be anything less than prideful—her back wouldn't bend until the day she died—but from what he could see of her expression, he could almost imagine it was remorse.

'I'd meant to pass them on before now. I was planning to gift them to you when you came of age. I should have given them to you after your fifth year.'

'Why didn't you?' Neville really didn't want to get angry at his grandmother, but his gut was roiling, twisted rage and grief rising to the surface.

'It was too dangerous.'

Neville opened his mouth to interrupt—and possibly shout at her—when his grandmother swung back to him, her beady eyes silencing him.

'It was too dangerous. The boy I knew wouldn't have gone on a half-cocked rescue plan for a man you didn't even know. But you did, and I wondered what you would do for your parents. I know you love your parents—don't think I never saw you keeping Alice's wrappers—but when you lost your father's wand, it made me realise you were too attached. And that had been partly my fault.'

His grandmother strode towards him, placing one bony hand on his shoulder. 'Frank and Alice are gone. Revenge can't bring them back. I didn't want to give you more reasons to do something foolish. You are… were very young. Sometimes the young don't think with their heads.'

Neville exhaled, trying to release the simmering anger he felt. He would remain courteous at the very least. 'I understand Grandmother. Thank you for giving them to me.'

His grandmother nodded once, her heavy jewellery tinkling as she withdrew her hand. Her next words however, calmed him down more than any reassurance she could give.

'I am… sorry, Neville,' she said, her strident voice softened. 'I am proud of you, as your father and mother would be. You have and will make the Longbottom family who they should be.'

Riding the wave of emotion and seizing the moment, Neville gathered her in a hug, certain that he may never get this chance again. After which, he decided to save for very special occasions. His grandmother's hugs felt remarkably like getting trapped by a Devil's Snare.

Drawing back, Neville could see his grandmother had a smile barely peeking through her wrinkles. Maybe he could endure a few more of her hugs if he got to see her smile more.

'Now, all we need to do is find you a young lady,' his grandmother said, as she strode from the study. 'We need to start thinking about the continuation of the line, what with Algernon neglecting his duties.'

Neville felt the bottom drop out of his stomach and slumped into the hard-backed chair. 'I hope she was joking,' Neville muttered to himself. 'Please Merlin, let her be joking. There's a first time for everything.'

...

Neville could hear his heartbeat thump against the stone. Measured steps travelled past his hiding place, the soft whisper of a cloak sliding along the floor. He could feel soft skin searing his back, along with their shallow breathing in his ear. Fiercely, he ignored their heat, clenching his fists in concentration while he listened for any more patrols.

'I think we're clear,' he breathed, shifting closer to the solid wooden door of the broom cupboard. His ear pressed to the wood, he could hear nothing but the creaking of the moving staircases and the whistling breeze. He pushed the door open, the hinges silenced after a quick spell. Peeking down the shadowy hallway, his eyes—now accustomed to the darkness—couldn't spy anyone. The only inhabitants of the hallway were stiff suits of armour. Gesturing ahead of him, he held the door for his companions.

Luna moved ahead of him, her blonde hair charmed black for their excursion and her pale skin covered by a large black robe—Neville's in fact. After her, followed Ginny, disguised similarly to Luna, lithely stepping down the corridor.

Neville followed, stopping at a blank stretch of wall, carefully chosen due to its position near the Great Hall. With sharp movements, they unrolled the posters hidden in their cloaks, and used a sticking charm to plaster them to the wall. None of them had the talent to place a permanent sticking charm but it would hold longer than most. It was doubtful Hogwarts would let them permanently stick posters to its walls anyway. Disguised as normal letters and smuggled in from Fred and George, the posters would resist being destroyed, vanished or transfigured. They'd been lucky that Snape and the Carrows had left Filch to deal with searching the mail, who would only look for obvious contraband and ill-concealed codes.

'Done,' Ginny said, her voice nearly lost in the silence.

'Dumbledore's Army,' Luna murmured, her fingertips grazing the severe faces of Dumbledore and Harry as they gazed down on them, Dumbledore's Army emblazoned above their heads.

Neville, relieved to be done and heading back to their common rooms, felt a smile lift his face. Hopefully, this was the start of something more. Hogwarts wouldn't survive a whole year without hope.

They turned to go back down the corridor, but froze when harsh slapping echoed through the air, footsteps pounding on the stone floor.

'Run!' Neville whispered, the three stepping as lightly as they could as they sprinted for safety. Neville's heartbeat had risen to his ears, drowning out all other noise except for his laboured breathing…

Neville gasped, coming awake in tangled sheets, sticky with sweat. He slowed his breathing, the comfortable surroundings bringing him back to reality. He was in his bedroom at Longbottom House, the ancestral home of the Longbottoms. Scarlet hangings draped his bed, obscuring the rest of the anciently appointed room—a wide window overlooking the gardens and greenhouse, a solid oak desk which hadn't been moved since it was placed there, and several hangings on the walls, depicting obscure magical legends.

The Longbottoms weren't rich—certainly not like the Malfoys, or how the Malfoys used to be. They were comfortable however; though it was not through sound business decisions. Neville, his grandmother, and his uncle were the only Longbottoms left—their wealth only due to the fact they were alive when others weren't.

Neville tumbled out of his bed, pulling open his window to let the air in. Moonlight flooded the room as he swept aside his curtains. The dusky orb hung high in the sky, drowning out the pinpricks of starlight.

Neville breathed deeply, feeling the panic and horror recede but the memory remained fresh, the moonlight only accentuating it. It had been far from the most horrifying memory of last year, but it had been one of the first—the first time he had been responsible, not just for himself, but for others. After, safely in his dormitory, he had stared at Harry's bed, wondering how he'd taken the pressure of not just fighting for himself, but for everyone. Neville had always been the follower before and while it was scary, there was an ease to it as well. Leading was infinitely harder—every decision he made, every action he took, could spell the end of not only his life, not only the life of his friends, but also the rebellion of Hogwarts.

Walking from the window, he sat at his desk; which could hardly be seen underneath the open books, scattered letters, and pages and pages of notes, Neville's tight script cramping the parchment. He'd been working on cross-breeding cuttings from his Mimbulus mimbletonia with a Flutterby bush. Instead of the volatile plant emitting stinksap when threatened, Neville was hoping to combine the plants so that the Mimbulus mimbletonia would create pleasing scents for the owner, courtesy of the Flutterby bush. This would hopefully solve the problem people had with their Flutterby bushes, where they only flowered once every century. The work was hard-going—changing the base property of the plant so that it would no longer produce sap was proving near impossible.

Sighing, he slumped over his desk, his head soothed by the cold timber. His life was at a standstill right now—he didn't have a job and he certainly didn't have his N.E. . He had one offer but he really didn't want to take it. He didn't think he could stand another year of it. Looking down at the greenhouses, he wished he could just stay here, working on his garden all day. But that had its own problems—his grandmother wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon and she was becoming increasingly insistent that he organise his future. His mind whirring, Neville reached for his parent's letters. Though they saddened him dreadfully, an escape from his mind was what he needed right now.

...

Within the first few minutes of arriving at the Burrow, he'd been plied with butterbeer and pushed to a long, wooden table, groaning with enough food to feed Hogwarts, by Mrs Weasley. She was red-faced and slightly mussed as she bustled around the party, handing out treats and drinks to everyone with an empty hand. Neville felt a small amount of panic rise within him. He hadn't been around this many people since the funerals. Slinking away from the knots of people gathered under the banner proclaiming Harry's 18th birthday, he rested against the house, half-concealed by a crooked corner.

He could see Harry trickling around to each group as they wished him happy birthday. Classmates and Order members mostly, Neville thought. He spied Parvati and, next to her, Lavender—newly released from Saint Mungo's, ropy scars tangling her neck—standing near Dedalus Diggle and Hagrid. He could hear Hermione and Ginny inside as they clanked around the kitchen, Mrs Weasley yelling orders out to them. Ron appeared to be locked in a conversation with an inquisitive and stern Professor McGonagall—which explained the pale, slightly slack-jawed look on his face.

'Hiding, Neville?'

Neville jerked his head, slamming it against the solid wooden wall of the Burrow, the windows rattling at him in protest. Groaning, he turned to Luna, who stood beside him wearing a yellow dress covered in pockets and thin hoops hanging from her ears.

'Luna! Don't sneak up on me like that,' Neville said, rubbing his stinging head.

'Oh, sorry Neville, I thought you might have gotten lost.'

'No need to take the mickey, Luna,' Neville grumbled.

Luna smiled, that unfocused, serene smile that had unnerved him so when they had first met. However, as they'd become closer, he'd grown used to it—he'd grown to appreciate it and what it represented. When Luna had been taken, he'd worried that when she was released—and she would be, because there was simply no other option—her smile would not be the same. That whatever had happened to her would have taken away that strange peace that she had found with the world. Thankfully, it had not taken long for his fears to be put to rest, for when she had wandered into the Room of Requirement, that same smile had been on her face.

She settled against the wall, her fingers shining her earrings, rubbing back and forth. 'You can't hide from her forever you know? Ah, the excuses I've had to make up. She'll be terribly sad to find out you're avoiding her.'

'I'm not hiding from her forever,' Neville said, still feeling rather disgruntled. 'Just until she goes back to Hogwarts.'

'You could just tell her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind.'

'You're barking. There's absolutely no way I'm going to say anything. It'll just make things awkward.'

'Better than not talking to her at all. I can tell her if you want.'

'No Luna, don't you dare! If she doesn't kill me, Ron or Harry would.'

'Oh Neville, you're so silly sometimes. Dean went out with her and they're friends now.'

'Yeah, well, Dean isn't in love with her still. Listen, I don't want to talk about this anymore.'

'Alright Neville,' Luna said, patting him on the shoulder. 'I think I'll go take a look at the ghoul. I've heard they have Seer-like powers, did you know?'

'Right, ah no, I didn't, but good luck anyway, Luna.'

Neville joined the party himself, surreptitiously keeping on the other side of the party from Ginny as she chatted with the group.

'Hey Nev.' Ron's voice appeared at his elbow, followed by his grinning, freckly face. Following him was a twitchy Harry who seemed to be, alternately, throwing longing looks towards the orchard and Ginny.

'Hey Ron, hey Harry. Happy Birthday mate.'

Harry waved it away, before double-taking, his eyes opening wide. 'Blimey Neville, I forgot, it's your birthday too, isn't it? Damn, I should have remembered that. Happy Birthday, anyway mate.'

'Don't worry about it. Grandmother is probably the only reason I remembered.'

'Nah, he's talking about Mum. This is the first opportunity Mum's had to organise something other than a funeral since Bill's wedding. She wasn't going to take no for an answer, and unfortunately, Harry was too scared to even try to refuse,' Ron said, smirking at Harry, who punched his shoulder.

'I could have sent her your way if I had remembered,' Harry grumbled.

'I doubt that would have saved you. She probably would've just organised a double party.'

'At least then someone else could suffer with me.'

'That the first time he's ever said that? Voldemort, he can take on by himself, but a party is just too much.' Neville and Ron laughed at Harry's disgruntled expression, as he backed away from them making a rude hand gesture before being corralled by a beaming Hagrid.

It was only a few minutes later, after chatting with Ron, that Neville came face to face with Professor McGonagall.

'Mr Longbottom.'

'Hello, Professor.'

McGonagall stared down at him, unusually thin-lipped considering she had professed to being 'extraordinarily proud' of him not long ago, in a period of unnatural emotion in the aftermath of the battle. Neville gulped, fiddling his fingers behind his back, feeling like a clumsy first-year all over again.

'Professor Sprout is awaiting your reply,' McGonagall said. 'I hope you're not going to keep her waiting too much longer.'

'Neville? What's she talking about?' Ginny said, popping out of nowhere and startling Neville. Seeing her watching him, he quickly looked away, studying his hands.

'I'm surprised you haven't discussed it with your friends,' McGonagall said in a curious yet disapproving tone.

'Ah, right, well, so much has been happening…' Neville said wilting under their combined gaze.

'Mr Longbottom has been offered an apprenticeship with Professor Sprout. He'll spend two more years at Hogwarts, before he would undertake his own study. If he accepts, that is,' McGonagall explained to Ginny.

'Neville! This is going to be great. Why didn't you say something?' Ginny's bright words only heightened Neville's panic. She continued on, prattling about plans for the next year, and Neville could bear it no longer.

'I'm not going!' He burst out. Faced with their dismay, he stuttered on. 'I'm so-sorry professor. The offer was great, really, um…I'm just not sure I want to keep studying at the moment.'

'Well, what are you going to do?' Ginny placed her hands on her hips, eerily reminiscent of her mother.

Neville's salvation, as it happened, was that exact person. Appearing at the door to the Burrow, Mrs Weasley carried an enormous cake shaped like a miniature of Hogwarts, candles burning from the ramparts and bricks carved from grey frosting. She called for everyone to gather around and Neville found himself pushed to the front, sharing the birthday cheers with Harry who stood next to him uncomfortably, an embarrassed smile on his face. Taking Harry's lead, he decided to grin and bear it—before long, he found himself, once again, tucked into a corner, a slab of cake crumbling in his hands, watching everyone as they milled around the table.

'You could go away.'

'Bloody hell Luna!' Neville fumbled his cake, dropping it to the ground where it was pounced on by a group of ecstatic gnomes. Sliding a few steps away, he turned to Luna who had once again sidled up next to him.

'Do you think I might get bitten if I stick my finger in there? Daddy always said Gnome saliva has magical properties.'

'Best not, just in case. It might be bad luck to ruin their meal,' Neville hurried, not eager to see Luna lose her finger.

'Always so cautious Neville. You should go away.' Luna stressed her last sentence, her voice breaking from its usual dreamy tone.

'Go…away?'

'Yes. Go on a trip. Maybe you could find a Dancing fern. They're said to do the waltz under the full moon.'

'Go on a trip…to find a dancing fern…' Neville said in befuddlement.

'Or not…if you don't want to find plants anymore you could go look for a Blibbering Humdinger. Or if you're lucky you could find a Trotodam. They're as big as dragons and live in the Sahara Desert.' Luna's voice began to rise in excitement.

'Luna stop, stop, for just a second…I can't just leave. What about my grandmother? What about…everyone?'

'Home's only a portkey away Neville. And if you can't do what you want to here, then maybe you should go elsewhere.'

Neville swallowed hard, but from the feelings churning in his gut, one rose to the top—excitement—he wanted to do this, get away from everything, the war, his family, Ginny…

'Do you think I could do it?' The question escaped him before he could reel it back.

Luna turned her slightly unfocused eyes to his. 'Of course.'

Neville narrowed his. 'How much firewhisky have you had?'

Luna laughed, great peals ringing out, causing more than a few heads to turn towards them as Neville frantically tried to shush her.

'How…much…good one, Neville,' she gasped.

'Right, right, Luna, just – everyone's staring,' Neville whispered, trying to straighten her up.

It took her a minute, by which time everyone had looked away, but she stopped, occasionally hiccupping, turning her large eyes to him. 'Where do you think you'll go'

'I don't know. I've only been to be France and that was a pretty short trip. Grandmother doesn't like being away from home.'

'You should travel the world. You could be the next Newt Scamander.'

'Newt Scamander?' Neville repeated, wrong-footed.

'Author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. I heard his grandson might be writing another of those though,' Luna frowned.

'I don't think I'm too good with animals anyway Luna.'

'But you're pretty good with plants?' Luna said, slyly. Well, slyly for her, Neville thought. He could just see the corner of her lips turned upwards on her blank expression.

'Yes, yes, I'm good with plants,' Neville sighed, grabbing her in a sideways hug.

'And you can work for the Quibbler,' a muffled Luna said. 'That way you have to write.'

'Fine. But when I find the equivalent of a Blibbering Humdinger, it better be on the front page,' Neville joked.

'I'll miss you, Neville.'

'You'll still have Ginny and Hermione and all the DA at Hogwarts. And you know Harry and Ron will be sneaking in as much as possible.'

'You still have them too Neville. Don't forget that while you're on your adventure.'

'Never,' Neville said, rubbing Luna's arm, feeling happiness well up inside him as he watched all his friends laughing around the garden. It was tinged bittersweet, however, because of the ones who were missing.