Remembrall
"No, Lestrange!" Frank Longbottom yelled, stumbling as he tried again to break into the swirling circle of cloaked figures. The curve of their shield flickered and vanished. Filled with hope Frank pressed forward but even as he realised his mistake the shield rippled and pulsed flinging him away.
As his back struck the cabinet with a crunch of splitting wood and breaking glass Frank glimpsed the writhing form of his wife, fingers digging deep in the pile of the carpet as the Death Eaters struck again and again. He lost sight of her as he hit the floor and an avalanche of shattered ornaments and souvenirs cascaded into his lap, a broken history of their short life together.
Oblivious to the tears that streamed down his cheeks he swept the debris away. In a single movement he was on his feet, knuckles whitening as his grip tightened around his wand. The weight of power unleashed in the room caused the house to shudder from the foundations to the chimney stacks and that power infected Frank now; teeth clenched, the muscles of his jaw were taught enough to snap the bone as he advanced. "Bombarda!" he screamed throwing himself forward with the spell.
Framing the tableau the protective shield cast by the Death Eaters rippled and pulsed then, as the bolt of light collided with the shield it rippled and glinted into glassy mass that cracked and splintered and hummed. The sound grew louder and louder ebbing into a burst of black flame that sent shards of obsidian flying outward.
Seizing his chance Frank dived forward ignoring each razor shard that sliced at his skin.
"Alice," he sobbed as he fell to his knees and pulled his wife into his arms, "Alice, I'm here, its alright."
"Frank," she croaked reaching to touch his bloodied face, "I ca …"
"How touching," a woman interrupted. At the same time the air in the room became dark and still, "Rodolphus," she crooned, laying her hand on the shoulder of the taller figure that moved into place beside her, "would you do as much for me?"
"To death and beyond, Bellatrix," a hooded head tilted and a deep voice, prickling with cold passion replied but her attention was drawn elsewhere. "Rodolphus, look!" she squealed pointing at a bassinet that stood near the crackling fire.
"Later, Bellatrix." her husband replied. "We are unlikely to forget with the noise the brat is making."
"Very well," she grumbled. "I'm getting carried away with the romance of it all!" Bellatrix clapped her hands together then threw her arms wide and skipped forward giggling as she smiled without mirth at the wand that Longbottom levelled at her as she approached. "Feeling weak, Frank? May I call you Frank?" she asked, leaning toward him. Without waiting for a reply she straightened and continued, "Your lovely wife appears to have lost her tongue - why don't you be a good chap and tell us where the Dark Lord is?"
Frank Longbottom's arms tightened around the trembling body of his wife, shielding her as best he could from their tormentors. "I don't know!" he cried again, "He's gone! We thought you were all gone!"
"But that's exactly what you would say if you did know. Come, Frank, be reasonable. I am being reasonable." She paused, allowing him time to listen as the screams of the child reached a crescendo. "Crucio!"
As the curse hit Frank reared, his wand propelled away by the movement. Alice fell to the floor. Frank collapsed on top of her, their bodies convulsed in unison as the Death Eaters prolonged their attack then in a confusion of screams and sobs they shuddered into silence; a grotesque mockery of the act of love.
"Tickles a bit, doesn't it?" Bellatrix remarked, "Was it easy for you to watch your wife bear all that pain while you gallantly refused to help us? Does it increase your sense of pride to resist?" she questioned, "You could have saved her. It disgusts me that we share blood and that you shamed it when Dark Lord gave you the chance to join him; you shamed me!"
Turning away she sighed, the tip of her wand between her teeth. She nibbled it as she paced between the Death Eaters and their prey, "I don't have much time, Frank. I know you have already alerted your pathetic little friends and that we have, what, two, three minutes remaining? You think that if you can hold out that long we will leave you be but Frank, you don't know us very well after all. We will never be gone." Her last words were little more than a breath.
She turned then, wand ready and each of the gang of four joined her, "Crucio!" the force of four unforgivable curses combined crumpled the Longbottoms.
Bellatrix shrieked in delight as she tore her wand away. "The Dark Lord will return," she screamed, as she left her companions to continue their work. Twirling to the beat of pain she reached the bassinet. Tilting her head and smiling Bellatrix reached downward. With both hands she lifted the wailing child until his eyes were level with hers.
"Neville isn't it?" she asked, playfully tossing the boy in the air, once, twice then on the third she caught him by one arm and turned in a single movement. "Would you like to play with mummy and daddy, Neville?"
With the boy dangling form one hand, banging against her hip as she swayed and her wand held in the other Bellatrix danced across the room, her feet crunching carelessly over the detritus of battle to her companions who pulled back their wands, easing their torture.
"Last chance, Longbottom," Bellatrix taunted as she hurled the child into the air and caught his fall with a spell, levitating him above his parents.
"Neviiiiiiiiiii …" Alice clawed upward to be crushed down by an unspoken curse.
"You're too late," Frank rasped his last act of defiance against the Dark Lord.
"Finish them!" Bellatrix commanded.
A barrage of curses hit the Longbottoms. Bellatrix drew back her wand and span round as the first of many figures whooshed into being. "Flee!" she shrieked to the others as she disapparated.
The spell that held the child aloft was broken and before the Aurors could reach him he thudded to the floor head first and bounced to rest by the shuddering shells that had been his parents.
As he watched, the red glow faded. Neville didn't know whether to thank Luna for the experimental charm that she had performed on her birthday gift to him that year, a new remembrall. Since it had arrived by owl it had proven itself more than a toy, it was a gateway to his past. In a few weeks he had learned a lot but with that knowledge came the agony of understanding and the realisation that he was powerless to influence events that might be better forgotten. Neville stuffed the remembrall into his pocket and turned his attention to the platform.
The vibrancy typical of the wizarding world on parade was diminished, the usual buzz that characterised the ritual excursion to King's Cross to drop of young witches and wizards subdued. Parents and families did not linger but saw their charges directly onto the Hogwarts Express before returning with haste to the Muggle world fearing their very presence in wizarding London might draw curious eyes and expose them to unwelcome scrutiny.
Resting his cheek against the cold window pane, Neville saw the Lovegoods emerge through the wall. Dressed in palest green Luna sauntered through the shuffling crowd dragging a paisley patterned shopping trolley behind her. Her father followed, pushing a station cart that bore her trunk. Neville smiled as they came closer to his carriage, the only people on the platform unruffled by the atmosphere, perhaps because they constantly entertained the belief that conspiracies were afoot and one more could make little difference.
"Hello Neville," Luna said as she waved with both hands to her father on the platform. As she propped her shopping trolley beneath the window Neville saw that Luna's coat was made up of hundreds of feathery green petals that floated as she moved. He was reminded of felicitas digitalis, a river bound fern that once pulped had uplifting properties but a giant walking specimen; Neville felt the twitch of a smile pull at his lips at the thought.
"Is no one else here?" Luna asked peering around as though expecting the collective population of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor to pop their heads out from under the seats like an overnight mushroom crop.
"Gran heard from Mrs Finnegan that who heard from Seamus that Dean wasn't coming back, same with the Creeveys," Neville volunteered as Luna took the seat opposite, "I don't think that Hermione will be coming and Gran says that Harry hasn't been seen all summer. He's gone missing along with his Muggles," he added, sadly.
"Really?" Luna asked, "I saw Barny at Ron's brother's wedding, we live just over the hill from them. He married that veela, you know."
Puzzled, Neville sat forward resting his elbows on his knees. "Who is Barny?" he asked kindly.
"Luna!" Ginny Weasley scolded from the doorway, "Talk about keeping a secret!" She slid the door closed behind her and flopped into the seat next to Neville.
"Well he did marry that veela," Luna protested with a winsome smile.
"Harry?" Neville asked.
"Nope, Bill," Ginny explained, "Remember Fleur? They finally took their oaths, set up house together now. I think mum likes having him nearer home too, and she's even grown fond of phlegm."
"I remember," Neville replied tartly. "Tell me about Barny?"
Luna and Ginny exchanged a glance and burst out laughing. "Barny is Harry, Neville," Luna said as if that was explanation enough.
"It was safer," Ginny added. "He made a good Weasley though!"
"Where's Ron?" Neville asked, aware that neither Ginny nor Luna was about to tell him any details. .
"Ill with spattergroit!" Ginny grinned as Luna shuffled toward the far end of the carriage muttering something under her breath, "At least that's what Dad claims. I don't believe it for a minute, there's not a wheeze that can get past me. If Ron is in that bed then I am a nargle's uncle!"
If she was convinced Luna did not show it; Neville suspected that she might indeed think that Ginny was a nargle's uncle, though he didn't say it. Luna remained by the window and drew out her wand and began flicking it in odd concentric movements in the air before her.
Ginny twisted in her seat towards Neville and tucked one leg under her. "They've gone you know," she said quietly, "Harry told me last year he wasn't coming back and they've gone with him – something Dumbledore asked him to do. Mum will have a fit when she gets home, I feel a bit sorry for Dad having to put up with her yelling. She'll blame him when really it was my brothers who arranged it."
"Are you ok, Ginny?" Neville asked, tentatively putting his hand over hers. He did not pull it away as she raised her gaze to meet his. Staring at him were the eyes of someone who had slept little in recent days and then fitfully.
"I will be," she swallowed, "You're a good friend, Neville."
"We all need those at the moment," he replied. Apparently content with her incantations, Luna had moved back along the long seat, "If you need to talk, Ginny …" he finished.
"I know." Ginny forced a smile then stood and slid open the door of the compartment. "They're cutting it fine," she remarked peering down the narrow corridor.
"Who are?" Luna asked. Neville stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and leaned back along the empty seat.
"Everyone, half of the compartments are empty …"
With his eyes closed, Neville's attention drifted from the chatter which muted into a pleasant background murmur.
Everything has changed, he thought, its been changing since the fifth year.
His hand brushed over his remembrall and onto a cold flat coin. Dumbledore's Army, he recalled wistfully as metal grated over metal, and now he's gone.
Images flickered through Neville's mind; the flight from Hogwarts, sneaking into the ministry of magic, a close encounter with the Death Eaters, all past now. But Dumbledore was dead. Hogwarts was the domain of his murderer.
"You must go back Neville," his Grandmother said waving the letter in the air, "there is no choice. The most we can do right now is keep our heads down and hope the Potter boy comes through."
"My father wouldn't have returned," he replied defiantly. "he'd've found a way to help!"
"You are not your father." Mrs Longbottom said. "And If you have any respect for your parents you will get on that train tomorrow!"
"I know I'm no Auror, Gran," he replied steeling himself for a fight," but I might do some good here."
"Do you think I can't look after myself?" she questioned, sucking air through her teeth, "Do I look that old to you?"
"No Gran, I just don't think …"
"That's the point. You don't think!" she decreed, "Do you think you will be allowed to stay here? Have some sense, boy. There is no longer any choice, I have lived through this before, where did making a stand get them? The Prewetts? The McKinnons? It got them killed. If you know who hadn't been destroyed do you think we would be here now?"
"They stood up for what they believed in, Gran, all of them – that's what counts."
"Tell that to Frank," Mrs Longbottom replied, "tell that to Alice. Youthful ideals are not enough."
"I know that they would have done something about it, whatever the risk!"
"You can't know what it was like, Neville. It is only just beginning and it will get so much worse. Listen to me," a note of pleading in her tone.
"I was part of Dumbledore's Army, Gran!" Neville countered, "We won then, we can win again. Giving in is not right! We can fight, we …" he paused as he noticed the tears building in the wrinkled corners of her eyes. "Who's to say what is right anymore. Albus is gone, Neville," she sobbed, "Frank is …"
Neville shuffled his feet uncomfortably, a formidable woman, Neville had seen his grandmother angry; faced with opposition she drew herself up and savaged her opponent with her tongue, her wand or her handbag, sometimes all three. He had never seen her give up, never seen her back down. He had never seen her afraid.
"Neville! Bunk up!"
He blinked, "Sss, wha …" and slid off the seat landing heavily on the floor.
"Sleeping on the job, Longbottom!" Antony Goldstein accused slipping into the spot that Neville had vacated. From the floor Neville saw that the compartment was crammed with students, Lavender Brown, Romilda Vane and Hannah Abbott squeezed on one seat with Luna and Parvati and Padma Patil and Susan Bones jostling for space on the other. As Hannah helped Neville to his feet Wayne Hopkins and Zacharias Smith pushed in and took his space. Ginny was standing in the open doorway with Terry Boot.
"Is everywhere full?" Neville asked nudging Luna's trolley aside. He leaned against the window as behind him the scenery began to change as the train began to pull slowly away from the platform.
"No," Hopkins replied, "We wanted to see if he'd chicken out."
"Speak for yourself!" someone muttered as Ginny snapped, "Who?"
"Lover boy," Smith responded nastily, "Good ol' Harry Potter."
"I thought he'd be here too," Padma said softly unable to disguise her disappointment.
"Coward," Hopkins muttered, getting to his feet, "he's done a runner. C'mon Zach."
"You're wrong," Vane protested, "Harry wouldn't!"
"No, Romilda, he wouldn't," Ginny concurred stepping forward to face Hopkins. "and if that's what you think, kindly drag your worthless backside out of here before I hex it across the next carriage."
"Come off it. Weasley," Wayne retorted, "Granger I can understand but your brother and Potter?"
"Ron is ill," Ginny said, "Spattergroit." she allowed a little extra spittle to fly from her lips as she spat the word. Macmillan stepped back. Ginny smiled and pulled her hand through her hair, "You were talking about cowards, Ernie?"
"Is that so?" in the excitement, nobody had noticed the new arrivals, not even Neville who was facing the doorway. Malfoy pushed past Terry Boot, and none too particular about whose toes were trodden on, Crabbe and Goyle followed him into the compartment. "What's that smell, Goyle?" he asked, "I think there's a blood traitor in here."
Tight lipped Ginny turned to face them.
"I thought so," Malfoy continued as she reached for her wand, "You know you ought to think carefully about whose side you're on Hopkins," he added with a thin smile.
"We were just leaving," Wayne replied, "Zach?"
Without another word Wayne Hopkins and Zacharias Smith squeezed by the Slytherins and left the compartment.
"They know which way the cauldron is stirred," Malfoy observed. He looked over Ginny's head as if he wasn't there, "You ought to give it some thought too, Longbottom," Malfoy said without enthusiasm.
"What do you want?" Neville asked standing up straight. His gaze fell on the badge pinned to Malfoy's robes that proclaimed him Head Boy as it glinted and faded in the changing light.
"Not that its any of your business, Longbottom, I smelled bad blood and came to investigate." he shrugged, "But it was just the usual stink of misfits, blood traitors and lunatics" he paused, "Mother tells me there's good blood in you somewhere, though I'm damned if I can see it."
"We could look," suggested Goyle drawing out his wand.
Malfoy glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "There's a thought." he said, his lips splitting into a malevolent grin.
"First one he's ever had," muttered Ginny.
"Her too," Malfoy said jerking his thumb in her direction.
Crabbe shoved Ginny toward Neville.
She fell, bouncing off Luna's trolley into Neville. He steadied her as he drew out his wand.
"Get out, Malfoy," he said
Malfoy blinked then his pale gaze hardened. "I beg your pardon." he said in disbelief as Crabbe and Goyle drew in close behind him.
"Get out," Neville repeated.
"Now," Terry Boot said, joining him.
One by one the others followed, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw alike, drawing their wands and standing with difficulty in the crowded compartment until the Slytherins were surrounded.
"Later then," Malfoy said indifferently, "but then there'll be no-one to save you. No chums, no champion of losers and mudbloods to run to. Dumbo's dead. Beaten by a better wizard and you'll go the same way."
As Neville stared at Malfoy's thin washed out face he wondered what it would feel like to draw back his wand and curse him. That woman was Malfoy's aunt, he knew where she was, how could he not. His pulse quickened, each beat growing louder and louder in his head; it would be justice, he reasoned, wipe that smirk off his face, to give him a reason to remember the name Longbottom.
Before he could act Malfoy turned and shoved past the remnants of Dumbledore's Army followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle who made an extra effort to knock into everyone they passed. Ginny moved across the floor and slid the door shut with slam. "I bet that git sent the whole summer rehearsing that little speech," she said.
"You should have said that," Luna said from her corner.
"Thanks, Luna," Ginny snorted, "I'd never have thought of using a witty retort to their faces, I usually prefer to say them afterwards."
"You're welcome" Luna smiled.
"The way of things to come," Neville said to no one in particular, "Gran was right, there's nothing we can do except keep our heads down."
Lavender and Parvati nodded, "we should go," Parvati said. As they left Padma and Romilda Vane joined them.
"Let us know if you hear anything about Harry," she said as she left.
"You'll be the first to know," Ginny replied though Neville doubted her sincerity.
"Its just not the right time for heroes," Terry said as he, Hannah, Justin and Susan left.
"He's right there," Ginny said slumping in to one corner, "Harry's gone, Dumbledore is dead, a murderer is free to ruin Hogwarts, the ministry is in chaos, Malfoy Head Boy. This is just the beginning."
"No Ginny, he's wrong," Neville said feeling a little queasy now that the adrenalin was subsiding, "This is exactly the time for heroes, only there aren't any here."
