Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related characters or themes.
AN1: Such a plot bunny as never before hit me when I was re-reading Deathly Hallows. Seriously. I mean, Neville NEEDS his own epic...fic, right?
AN2: The beginning was kinda creepy, but after reading her encounter with McGonagall I can just IMAGINE how she'd work with students! *creep'd out*
As with all my fanfics, expect tons of OOC-ness. You have been warned!
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True Hero's never receive Medals
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Neville Longbottom frowned, drumming his fingers impatiently as he sat outside Alecto's office. An hour. An hour he's been kept waiting. But, not for nothing. During that hour, he's been listening to Colin Creevey's mumbling, incessantly.
He's been listening to how Colin continues in a flamboyantly describing manner how he's been training his Patronus charms. How Dumbledore's army is still training every minute they can manage. How the mirrors on the wall are now pasted in pictures of all the members of the Order and all the old staff of Hogwarts.
Veritaserum is wonderfully effective against the weak of character.
Neville sighed. At least the Room of Requirement hasn't been explicitly mentioned. There's no telling if the room can withstand another Umbridge-type of assault. For now, by the skin of their teeth they're still safe.
"Thank you, Mr. Creevey, now leave," Alecto's voice floated through the door.
Neville's throat tightened as a cold wave of fear washes over him. My turn.
A very drained and weary Colin emerges through the door, "Hi… Neville… you look like death… " he says, his smile is delayed, "Professor Carrow is ready to interrogate you next…". After effects of Veritaserum… blissfully blunt honesty.
It's times like these that Neville almost wishes he had gone into hiding like his grandmother. Like Luna and her father. Like Harry, Hermoine and Ron. Like the whole damned Order of the Phoenix.
He licks his lips, tastes the aftertaste of the tea made of the daisy-like, flimsy houseplant he's been growing in his trunk. Dillweed. Augustus Flora, a cousin of chamomile. Said to lessen the effects of pain. Calms the nerves and serves to protect against all forms of the Dark Arts.
He sucks in a breath when Agrid calls him into her office.
"Come in, Mr. Longbottom," she says, waving the door shut as soon as he crossed the threshold.
He can smell Devil's claw burning as incense in the corner. A good choice. Counter-acts Chamomile –which means she knows he's a herbology nerd. Devil's Claw is meant to work as an adrenalin-booster and helps to fight fatigue… he smiles to himself when the answer hits him. At least the Cruciatus curse won't come as a surprise this time. The incense is just to keep Alecto's "fun" going longer.
On one hand, he hates her even more now. How she uses his love for Herbology to be used for their purposes. For Evil.
"If you can have a seat, Mr. Longbottom," Alecto says sweetly, indicating to the plush chair next to the fireplace.
You want me to be comfortable before you curse me… that way it'll be much more effective… Nevile's lips pull taut and he opts to stand instead, "No, thank you, Professor,".
"Very well?..." Alecto says, her face convincingly confused, "Would you like a cup of tea, love?"
"With all due respect, I would like to get this over with… Professor," he says, lowering his head as he narrows his eyes.
Alecto is by no means an unattractive young woman. Tall, slender. Always wearing fitting suits and loose and flowing dark blouses that were seemingly designed to be aesthetically pleasing to male onlookers. Her mannerisms are always careful… calculated… polite. Until she decides that one's useful purpose to her is finished, that is.
"Very well," she says, she picks up her eight-inch white wand from her desk, "As I'm sure you're aware… we're looking for the group of rebels in this school…"
She walks towards him, pacing slowly in a circle him, "Dumbledore's Army…" she says, intentionally letting her hand brush against his.
He instinctively retracts, "Harry Potter left Hogwarts. DA disbanded when he left," he answers, keeping his eyes lowered.
"Really? … but there are still rumours… " Alecto practically purrs, she drags her wand across his stomach, "That someone is keeping that group of very talented students in this Army…And that he won't let them reach their full potential… he's keeping them back from their true destiny…"
Neville knows she's lying, but it doesn't lessen the wounds the words leave behind. 'You're holding everyone back, Neville.' When he meets her dark brown eyes his eyes start watering, "And who do you think this someone is?" he asks, cringing when his voice breaks mid-way through his question.
She stops pacing and brushes her fingertips against his again, "Headmaster Snape suspects you," she says and just as Neville's stomach ties into a crushing knot, she leashes a Cruciatus curse upon him. "Are you?"
He hits the floor before he knows he's falling. His ears ring painfully and his vision covers into a white mass. His entire body convulses into a spasm as the curse lives up to its name. "Of course I am!" he yells through clenched teeth. He doesn't need Veritaserum to be relied upon for honesty. Smart.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Separate your mind. Remove your mind from your body. Calm. Breathe.
"You are, are you?" she screams, her voice slicing into his skull from its mere pitch, "Well then! Where do you brats assemble? "
It feels like a knife is digging through his back, but he stays silent. He rides out the second wave of the Crucio curse and tries to ignore how his whole body is on pins-and-needles. Remember…. Remove your mind from your body… relax. Remember what Snape said!
He forces his shoulders down and forces himself to roll into a crouch, "You can … use that spell on me…. All you want…" his eyes starts tearing as he looks up, he growls loudly as he pushes himself up, "I… won't tell you…. A damned thing…"
"Professor?" Snape's voice suddenly echoes through the room.
The sound of Voldemort's right-hand man caused Alecto to instantly extinguish the curse; the unexpected release of torture caused Neville to fall forwards, inadvertently smack face-first into the carpet on the floor. He laid panting on the floor, slightly disorientated and plagued by vertigo.
"Yes, Headmaster?" Alecto's sweet voice returns effortlessly. Just as sadistic as Umbridge.
"I see you're having…. " Snape takes his time to looks at Neville over before continuing, "difficulty extracting information from a seventh year student?"
"Oh… well… you s-" she starts, but Snape merely strides past her and grabs the back of Neville's robes.
"I will personally deal with this one… " he sneers down at -the now trembling- Neville and continues to his office down the hall, "How I longed to finally return the favour of blowing up half of my class in your first year."
CLIFFY! LOL. I hope you enjoyed this fic! I'll probably continue on with it, depending on how it goes.
ANYWHO! Thanks for reading! Please drop me review or pm if you liked it! :DD