Title: Unwanted Finding
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Neville/Remus
Warning: slash, angst
Summery: Answers the challenge of Neville's worst memory.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, because if I did book five would have ended very differently, nor am I making any money off my writings.
Unwanted Finding
He followed the rest of the pack into the dungeons, moving silently. The guards had been easy to take out, having been only three of them pinned against a whole fleet of Aurors.
Neville walked near the back of the group, wand out and ready, curses on the tip of his tongue. He peered down the hall into the nothingness and prayed that they had had the proper directions, and were indeed in the correct part of the dungeons.
Hold on, just a little longer, I'm almost there. You're nearly saved.
Of course, Neville wasn't even sure whether he was being kept here. There were so many Death Eater camps and dungeons hidden throughout Europe that there was a good shot that his love wasn't being held here. But he kept hope.
It wasn't easy; he'd raided more prisons than he cared to count, each time keeping a sharp eye for his lover, and each time failing to find him.
Please be here; oh please be here. I swear I'm so close I can almost feel you...
It had been so long, so many long months of loneliness and worrying. Every time a body turned up Neville showed up at the morgue, needing to have closure that he was still breathing, even if it was in confinement.
The solid walls of the surrounding dungeon turned to cells. As they passed by there were no signs of any Death Eaters, and the few prisoners that were still able to keep their eyes open stared at them with wonderment, none of them daring to say a word.
Neville knew the strategy; kill the Death Eaters, free the prisoners, call the healers. He's repeated it many times.
He kept on alert as he passed by the cells, looking in each one for any sign of his lover. No, his hair's too dark; no, he's too old; no, he's too short.
Neville was ready to forget the plan, to simply abandon his fellow Aurors, if he saw his lover. He already knew what he was going to do, he'd known it since the first raid months ago; get his lover out of the cell, apparate to St. Mungos and leave the others to face the Death Eaters. He didn't care whether that was cowardly, all that mattered was his love's well being.
A shout shook Neville was his watch. Death Eaters, not many judging from the size of their group appeared from around the corner, in front of the Aurors.
The white robed wizards and witches weren't taken by surprise, raising their wands and firing spells, sending the Death Eaters hurtling to the stone ground below. The commotion would have alerted the remaining Death Eaters on the premise. The Aurors continued forward, seeking out the rest of their attackers before freeing the prisoners.
They continued down the darkened corridor, the only light from dim torches. The hallway narrowed, coming to a heavy oak door on rusted hinges. Before they made it inside the passageway, a large number of cloaked and masked Death Eaters sprung forth from the door.
Neville acted quickly, as did the other Aurors. Defending himself from a curse, he flung it backwards to its sender, knocking the man to the ground with a thud.
The Aurors advanced, breaking into the room easily and spreading out as more Death Eaters attacked.
Neville looked around, surveying his surroundings carefully. Shackles hung from the walls and the floor was bloodstained, some of it fresh. His breath hitched, as he looked around, careful to avoid the curses that were constantly being thrown at him.
The room was spacious, and made of the same gray stone as the rest of the dungeon. A high-pitched yell caught his attention. He whipped around, knowing that such a voice wasn't that of a grown man or woman.
A child, no older than seven was being held by one of the Death Eaters, a wand to her throat as the man pulled her around the room, using her as a shield from the Aurors.
Another glance around proved to Neville that they had stormed a torture session. He fought the hitch in his breath as he reflected curse after curse, moving stealthily around the room, his eyes shifting wildly, searching for someone.
Please let him be okay; please let him be unharmed.
A muffled scream told him otherwise. In the far corner of the room stood a shadowy figure, standing over the prone body of another. Neville recognized the voice in a second. He bolted over, not caring that he was isolating himself from the other Aurors.
His lover lay in a broken heap on the ground, robes torn and mangled, his face pale and bruised. He writhed painfully, as the Death Eater's wand pointed directly at him. Neville hollered a curse at the Death Eater, hardly paying attention as she hit the floor with a painful thud. The link of the curse was broken, and Neville's lover slumped motionlessly to the floor, panting.
Neville fell to his knees, bringing his love's trembling body into his arms, "Remus," he whispered cautiously. There was no response, "Remus, it's Neville," he repeated, unsure of how to touch him. Blood gathered at his mouth, dripping down his chin. Remus didn't seem to notice.
Remus's eyes looked up, vacant and blank, devoid of any understanding. Neville held to him tighter, unaware of the shouts of the Aurors, not far from him, as they took down the few final Death Eaters.
"Remus, please, look at me," Neville begged, rocking the shuddering man in his arms. The desperation in his voice was evident.
His hazel eyes, still unfocused did nothing of the sort, only continued to stare off into the distance.
Without another word Neville, still cradling Remus in his arms, stood up and held firm to his lover. He watched as Shacklebolt neared him cautiously, looking at the fallen female Death Eater, not five steps away.
"Bellatrix Lestrange, good work Longbottom. She's been on our hit list for months," Neville didn't respond, only cradled Remus closer, letting the broken man press his face into his shoulder.
Fin.
