A/N: Well, looks like we've got another Neville-centered oneshot being put up. I think I might have issues with writing for other people...Oh well. If I did, I wouldn't have gotten this beauty of an idea! Enjoy!
Think...
They were surrounding him. Hundreds of Dementors. Maybe even thousands. Neville couldn't rightly tell any more. All he knew was that they were swarming him and every other wizard out there fighting. Swarming and looking for food, for souls, not caring what side the life they took came from.
Good or bad.
Light or dark.
To the Dementors, it was all the same. It was just a soul to them and who it came from, of what happened after that, didn't matter. Neville knew that. He also knew that, to keep them at bay, he would need to use the Patronus Charm.
And that was where the problem showed up.
Think harder...
For the life of him, Neville couldn't think of any thing to use. Not a single memory seemed to be happy enough, potent enough, to summon the Patronus. It wasn't a surprise, either. He'd never managed to work that spell before Even when they were learning it in the D.A. it had eluded him.
Even though his life had been better then some, better than Harry's or Draco's or Blaise', the memories he had weren't right for the spell. Because every thought that Neville had swirling around in his head was jaded. Twisted and faded and just not quite right.
That didn't mean he wasn't going to try. Wasn't going to at least attempt to hold them off. He didn't want to die.
...Remember?
"Expecto Patronus!" Neville shouted, point his wand at one of the aproaching monsters. Nothing but a thin whisp of silver came from its tip.
The Dementors didn't falter in the slightest.
Do you remember it yet? That one moment that stands out from the rest?
The cold chill of fear spread through his body. Neville could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge, his mind falter as one of the demons floated a tad too close. How they hadn't already killed him was a wonder.
Throat tightening and mouth going dry, the Gryffindor boy pointed his wand again. Called out the words. Watched as nothing but mist came from his wand and a spell, from someone else and headed towards someone else, flew past his head.
Think harder. It's there.
Neville took a small step backwards. Glancing around he looked for something, anything, that might trigger a usefull memory. One that didn't end in being shouted at or put down or getting hurt. One that was really and truly happy. With no drawbacks and no tricks.
Just joy.
The only thing that caught his eye at first was a fight going on to his left. Lavendar Brown was flinging curses at someone clad in black, no doubt one of the many Death Eaters fighting in this battle. The curse, a bright blue flash of light, missed but barely. Her enemy had only just moved out of the way.
And all that Neville could think of was how much better she'd gotten. Stronger and more determined.
Seamus was a few feet away from Lavender, fighting his way towards her. Skipping the pleasentries of jinxes and hexing whoever got too close. There was nothing but rage on his dirt-streaked face.
Seamus had gotten stronger too.
Think!
Neville took another step backwards, wand still pointing at the group of Dementors in front of him. Others had scattered, spreading out and going after other sections of the fight, but there was handful of them still focusing on him.
And, when he took that step, they started to move.
There's no time left!
Ginny was gone. Luna was gone. The D.A. needed a leader. Neville stepped into the role.
Youger students were the Carrows main targets. Younger students and Neville, who always seemed to be in the way of their plans.
Fight, Neville told them all, fight because that's all we can do now.
The memories flew through his mind. Each one of a day, a moment, during the last year. Something that had happened to him while he was fighting the Carrows, while he was trying to stave off the curses and keep everyone safe.
And that was when it hit him.
It had been a long night. Kept in the Dungeons with shackles around his wrists, unable to do anything but stand there, back flush against the wall. He'd been cursed in the beginning but that had ended quickly.
Alecto had claimed it was because he was bored with Neville.
It made Neville feel bad for whatever other student was captured that night.
When Filch finally came to let him go, looking almost apologetic, Neville headed up the stairs on shaky legs. Headed up the stairs, to the fourth floor, and slowly slipped inside of the Transfiguration Classroom. It wasn't until he'd settled down in an empty desk that he realized how late he was.
And being late to class meant you recieved a detention.
And getting a detention meant you were sent to the Carrows.
Whispers filled the classroom as the other students caught sight of his bruised wrists. As they saw the long cut that ran across his right cheek, scabbed over and sure to leave a scar. Amelia Griphort, a Ravenclaw that was sitting beside him, gave him a small, worried smile.
And when McGonnagle finally turned to face him there was nothing but pride in her eyes.
That's it. Now say it.
"Expecto Patronum!" Neville cried again, focusing solely on that memory. On the look on his professor's face. The gleam in her eyes when he finally made her proud and the energy that look had given him on later days.
From the end of his wand shot a large, silver shape. It hit the ground and blocked the closest dementor frm coming any closer to him, then went after the others. Taking them down one by one and leaving Neville to find another fight. Not before looking back and giving the mist-made bear a slight smile, though.
He'd have to remember to thank McGonnagle for that later.