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: A super special-tastic thank you to all my Alert-ees, Favourite-ees AND reviewers! My 2 Anonymous reviewers, duj and SarahsaDork thank you so much! Your reviews meant so much to me! I never thought there'd actually be any interest in this storyline, since hey, Harry IS supposed to be the main character... but, seems it's not too bad! I hope you all will like this chapter too!

AN3: There might be an issue with the spelling of the spells or with the qualities of the herbs mentioned... I tried to go with memory, but I'll fix it if there's a problem. I haven't been able to access my internet as often as I hoped, I usually do research before I write fics,but I haven't been able to do that the past few weeks *cries*... I hope it's not too much of an eyesore xP Sorry!

As with all my fanfics, expect tons of OOC-ness. You have been warned!

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True Hero's never receive Medals

Chapter 2: Enemies vs Friends

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"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."

When they finally reached Snape's old office, he tossed Neville inside and slammed the door behind him. He charmed the door to send any intruders who walked in straight out of random doors within Hogwarts. A handy spell Dumbledore had taught him while he was still a student.

Neville, shivering from shock, sat in a heap on the floor. He was hugging his legs, a bravely held stoic expression on his face.

The dungeon office didn't seem too different than the time when Snape actually taught there. Even though Slughorn had taken over the position of Potions Master, the office actually still seemed to look the same – disregarding all the photos and odd accessories Slughorn had used for décor. The vials, jars and cauldrons were still lining wall-to-wall. It still smelt musty and dank. It was still as scary as it was when Neville had first set foot here, seven years ago.

"Are you injured?" Snape commanded, walking back to the young man, crouching down next to him in one smooth motion.

"No", Neville answers cuttingly. He doesn't meet Snape's eyes.

"Are you still in pain?"

The young man looks up, surprised at the concerned tone of his tormentor's voice, "N… I'm fine." He forces himself to keep sounding much stronger and aggressive than he's actually feeling.

"Don't. Lie. To. Me!" Snape frowned, reaching forwards –noting how Neville remained tensed and impassive -and touching Neville's arm with his fingers, "Do you feel that?"

"…N-no…?"

When Snape finally stands, Neville looks up, "… why are you helping?" he asks, his voice strained to a whisper, "… I mean… if you're still our Headmaster, it can't-"

"What are you trying to say, Longbottom?" Snape snaps and crosses his arms, "You think the Dark Lord just sends his Death Eaters wherever? No. He has a plan. Where else to train an entire generation of Death Eaters if not through a School for Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

Neville just pulls his lips tight. Whatever he meant to say next is now lost.

After a few moments, Snape finally continues, "It's only going to get worse," he says and notes how Neville's pained expression suddenly intensifies. For a second confusion runs through Snape's system, but then, slowly he remembers. Frank and Alice Longbottom. Of course. The child's parents. "The Dark Lord is steadily growing stronger. Soon Hogwarts will no longer house four different emblems… soon all the muggle-borns in the school will be… separated from the pure-bloods. Only those who're strong can rebel."

"But… "

He walks over to his old potions stock –noting with disgust how low his Acacia, Dragon's Blood and Saffron collection had dwindled due to that glutton of a replacement- and searches slowly through the thousands of vials on the table, "You don't think so?... You don't think you are, do you?" he says incredulously, pushing some of the vials to the side to reach further. He has to force himself not to sigh when he spots his Juniper oil vial to be almost empty. Still, to pay ten gallions for one bottle was not cheap.

"My parents were fully fledged Aurors… of the highest class… I can't even keep hold of my wand half the time…" he snaps, suddenly feeling anger bubbling inside of him. Baseless anger. Anger without reason. Another after-effect of Crucio. "They were driven mad by Be-"

"BE that as it may, you are not your parents…" Snape says, absentmindedly waving his hand over the candles in the room, each sprouting a flame instantly, "For one thing, you're actually adept at Herbology… your father couldn't grow a Mandrake Root even if the water, seeds and soil all jumped into a pot by their own accord."

The corner of Neville's lips twitched into a smile. A long time has gone by since he'd smiled, his cheeks feel stiff at the movement. But, the moment is quickly lost, when Neville's consciousness forced himself not to forget that Snape was on their side. Not his.

Snape reaches up to the corner-shelf and finally reaches the desired vial, "Ah… essence of Wild Chestnut," he says and turns back to the young man, "Do you know what this is for?", calling out the young man's love for herbology.

"Mostly a nerve tonic…. But it's after effects also include subsiding fear, aiding clear focus and …. A…" Neville paused, his eyes searching from side to side as if the answers were floating around him.

"And?" Snape prodded, hoping the young man will be able to pull through the last stage of shock on his own. He knows just how badly self-image can be damaged by the ragged edges that shock leaves behind if one is saved, instead of doing the saving.

"It also … " Neville pauses long enough for Snape to take a seat on the couch next to the fireplace.

Snape re-crosses his arms and sits silently, allowing the student in front of him to think through the problem himself.

For a moment Neville shudders, but he suddenly blinks, sits upright and gives a lopsided smile, "I- it's also used to counter grief…" he finally mumbles. He sighs, "I'm sorry, what does this have to do with anything? Are we having a potions or herbology lesson?" he snaps tiredly once his thoughts drifted back to his previous reminder – that Snape was not on his side.

Snape sets the vial down in front of him, "Two drops in a glass of water. " he instructs.

Neville's eyes narrow in suspicion, trying to acess any motives Snape would have for wanting him to take the potion. Because, it isn't possible… right? Snape wouldn't want to help him…. Right? Of course, if Snape would want to poison him, he would've done so already, wouldn't he?

Snape slips his hand into his robe pocket and emerges with his wand, he points his wand to the sleeping owl next to the fireplace, "Vera Verto.". In an instant the barn owl is transfigured into a water goblet, rolling on the rim for a moment before coming to rest. With a brisk whip of his wand, and a muttered "Aguamenti", the goblet instantly fills with water.

It takes Neville a while to find his feet, cringing each time his body sways. When he's finally up, he pointedly ignores the vial and heads for the goblet instead. He takes two gulps of water before crouching by the fire, "Thank you, Headmaster…"

"You should take the potion, Neville…" Snape says and looks away when the young man turns to meet his eyes, "You, most likely, will not have another opportunity."

Neville suddenly laughs. And, it's not a hysterical or sarcastic laugh. The sound is cheerful, almost carefree. "I don't think so," he says and somehow sounds much more alert than he looks.

"Suit yourself," Snape says and relaxes back into the couch, rubbing his tired eyes, "If you're done, I will need you to galvanize this fireplace. The dungeons temperature controls most of Hogwarts' heating… I will prefer not to have to wade through a sea of disease-ridden students this winter."

Neville suddenly smiles, not missing the obvious lie. Regardless of the lack of rationality of one fireplace making a difference to an entire castle, it was Snape's amused tone that tipped the young man off. It's then when it hits him : how Snape's been nothing but helpful all along. How Snape was the one who kept everyone –the Carrows- in line. How he's been protecting everyone by minimizing the damage where he could. He suddenly realized, how the man in front of him, was on his side.

Neville, being as shrewd as he was, was smart enough to remain silent, nod acquiescently and sit in front of the fireplace with a content smile as the warmth soaked into him, "Yes, Headmaster Snape."

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I hope to get into the Canon storyline next time. Dealing with the DA and class times with the Carrows. w00t! I hope you enjoyed this fic!

Thanks for reading! Please drop me review or pm if you liked it! :DD