"-torched the place, eh? Knew-"
"-got away, I reckon. Portkeys or-"
"-know! I got it under-"
Neville squirmed, restlessly shifting in his sleep. Bugger- why did Seamus have to be so loud in the mornings? He was exhausted from his Charms essay the night before and-
"Well would you look at what we've got here."…One hazel eye squinted open, noting an overturned bag of fertilizer, and mud-stained robes brushing the edge of equally dirty boots.
Right. So he wasn't in his dorm. And that probably wasn't Seamus judging by the deep, rasping voice. Wonderful.
He froze, his eye trained on the fertilizer- the damn thing had dropped on him! But, there was something else…
Oh yeah- the school was on fire.
Bloody hell, the school was on fire!
Chancing a small glance up at the face of his rescuer he clamped his jaw on the gasp that threatened to escape. Right, so Death Eaters weren't likely to help him out. Scratch that rescuer bit.
Neville sighed inwardly- maybe he could pretend he was dead already?
Resisting the urge to curl up into a blubbering mess, he went as still as possible, breathing shallowly enough so as not to be noticeable. A moment passed and he uttered a squeak against his will as a boot's heel prodded him sharply in the mid-section.
"Nice try."
Alright then- Plan B, Neville decided. Act as utterly pathetic as possible. He doubted Harry would approve, but- desperate times…
He brought his knees to his chest, curling into the smallest position available to him, and hiding his face in his arms, pinched the skin around his eyes harshly, drawing out tears and a pained whimper.
"Oh bullocks-" Neville could hear the other man start to pace and sniffled a few times for good measure.
The man knelt shakily besides him. "Come on, then. No more tears- um…" He dug through his robes frantically, finally alighting upon a handkerchief and offering it graciously.
"Here you go." Neville nearly went cross-eyed as he tried to focus on the white cloth. Pairing that with the dull pounding in his head, he was sure to pass out again…
…
…
…
A slap across his surprisingly tear-stained cheeks (He was a better actor than he'd originally thought! Finally, something he could do right!) brought him back.
"Eh- kid? You're in some rough shape there, aren't you?"
Blinking away tears that were not played out, Neville winced as the man prodded at the bump left by the bag of fertilizer. "D-don't."
Despite the Death Eater mask, Neville could see wisps of beard and wondered who had caught him- a friend of Bellatrix perhaps? Ah, probably not, he judged, closing his eyes as the handkerchief was dragged softly across his cheeks to wipe at his tears.
"You ok, little one?"
Neville froze- what did he say? In all honesty, when he had planned out this strategy, he had sort of figured he'd be dead by the first whimper. If he said yes, the D.E. might shrug and kill him; if he said no, the D.E. might say 'oh well', shrug, and then kill him. Choices, choices…
"Um- I-I don't know…?"
He could have slapped himself- 'I don't know?' What the hell of an answer was that? Great, now he'd die for not knowing what to say- the story of his life.
By some stroke of luck, the man paused and scratched his beard, thinking. "You mean you don't remember anything?"
Um…Oh, well this could work. Neville brought up every depressing thing that had happened to him in the front of his mind, and mustered up a few racking sobs. "N-no…What's w-wrong with- me?"
He could just see the cogs in the man's head turning:
Hogwarts student equals target, target equals kill; kid equals Hogwarts student, kid equals kill…
He decided to go in for the prize: "Wh-where am I?"
And the cogs turned out a decision:
Kid equals Hogwarts student…false; kid equals unknown property
The man sighed and lifted up his mask, revealing a rather lined and kindly face that reminded him of Hagrid and made him feel guilty for lying, until he remembered that the man basically killed muggles for a living.
"My name's Edmund McKinnon, little one. Do you remember your name, at least?"
McKinnon, McKinnon…Ah, never heard of him. Damn.
"N-no…I do-n't-" Neville choked back a groan of actual distress- what the hell had he gotten himself into?
"That's fine, little one. It'll be alright, eh?" The man bumped his chin up slightly and grinned, "Uncle Ed'll fix this!"
Oh dear Lord.
"Come on then, child."
Bugger.