A/N: And here is Part 3.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JK Rowling.

On the subject of Neville's Patronus, which appears in this part: I have scoured both the books and the Internet, but mention of Neville's Patronus has never been found. I even watched the OotP film, but there was no sign of it there, either. So, as there is no official word on Neville's Patronus, I took the liberty of creating one for him. I would welcome comments on the form I have chosen.


Part 3: Late Night Comforts

The Room of Requirement was dark, as many of its occupants were asleep. Many of them fell into an exhausted sleep, tired of a long day of keeping the Carrows at bay and nursing numerous wounds. As the end of the year approached, each person's thoughts seemed to turn to the man who had not yet appeared: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the man who was now destined to defeat Voldemort. Morale had slumped slightly in the past few months, as little news about Harry and his companions made their way to Hogwarts, guarded as it was by Death Eaters and Snatchers.

Neville Longbottom—interim leader of the rebellion of Hogwarts students and the current leader of the remnants of Dumbledore's Army—couldn't sleep. Today had not been a good day, and lately it seemed as if evil was gaining the upper hand. Wincing at the long gash in his arm, Neville wrapped and rewrapped the bandage as he sat in his hammock, sleep eluding him.

Too much had gone wrong today. Aside from the slice he had accrued—which was trivial in the face of all the other wounds he had received in the past few months—Seamus had been beaten unconscious for refusing to torture and mutilate the body of a third year girl who had foolishly attempted to free the latest prisoners from the dungeons on her own.

The girl's death was one Neville blamed himself for, as he was the one who determined when they attempted to rescue those held in the dungeons. He should have been clearer about when they should go—the girl's partner had been unaware that her friend had descended without her. By the time she had figured it out, it was too late, and she had narrowly avoided being caught by Amycus Carrow as he brought the limp body of his captive to an empty classroom.

Seamus had refused to participate in such a disgusting act, and his rebellion had inspired the other students to refuse as well. The Carrows were getting smarter. Instead of threatening the weakest, they had discovered that taking out the instigator meant they could cow the others into submission.

From what Neville had heard, it had been a terrific fight, but by the time he had McGonagall had reached the classroom, it was already over. Neville closed his eyes, wishing he could erase the sight of Seamus, bloody and beaten, stretched out on the stone floor as if already dead.

Overriding Carrow's vicious attempts to cause more pain, McGonagall had Seamus transported to the under-used hospital wing, where he was been carried for by a harried Madame Pomfrey. If Neville had his way, Seamus would have been resting in the comfort of his hammock with someone to guard him at all times, but he had to concede that Madame Pomfrey was better prepared to deal with such injuries than his ragtag band of desperate students.

A soft silver light pulsed just beyond Neville's vision, and he turned his head, instantly alert. He was certainly that no one in this room meant them any harm—they had all proved their loyalty to Dumbledore's cause several times over—but he was pulled by curiosity. Who else could be up in the middle of the night?

Sliding out of his hammock, Neville winced at the cold stone under his bare feet. Sometime when he had a moment, he really needed to ask the Room for some rugs. A whispered "Lumos" provided him with enough light to see by, and he followed the flickering light to its source.

Of all the people he expected to see, Luna Lovegood was not one of them. Dressed in a white nightgown that was embroidered with strange silver designs, her blond hair tumbling loose down her back, she did not seem to be human, but merely one of the ghosts that roamed the castle corridors.

She moved her wand ponderously, and Neville finally discovered the source of the light he had seen across the room.

Luna's silver Patronus hopped around her, the ears of the hare alert and ready for the nearest sign of dementors. As Neville was certain none could enter the school, he wondered what Luna was doing with her Patronus.

"Luna?"

His soft question clearly startled her, as the hare paused and flickered. Then she regained her concentration and got a better grasp on her memory, as the form strengthened again, and the hare resumed movement.

"Hello, Neville," she said calmly, her voice a gentle whisper in the silence around him. She did not seem surprised to see him awake and at her side, and she gestured to the spot on the stone beside her, her eyes still on the hare bounding before her.

"What are you doing up?" Neville whispered, keeping his wand lit for the sake of being able to see Luna's face.

"I couldn't sleep," was the matter-of-fact reply. "You?"

"The same," Neville admitted, watching as the hare finally stopped moving and hovered above the stone, appearing to graze.

Turning towards him, Luna's pale brows drew together in concern. "Something's bothering you."

It wasn't a question, and not for the first time, Neville found himself marveling at her intuition. "I feel like we're losing the battle," he admitted, grateful for the darkness that would hide his shame.

"Hmmm," Luna murmured, watching her hare with affection, "I understand. I feel that way sometimes. That's why I came here."

"What are you doing here?" Neville asked, turning towards her.

Luna's silver eyes reflected her Patronus as a smile flitted around the corners of her lips. Instead of answering, she gestured to the silvery form before her. "Do you know what a Patronus is, Neville?"

Blinking at the abrupt change of subject, Neville nodded. "Of course I do. It's a charm that is made up of a memory, and it's used to repel dementors and the like."

Luna nodded, smiling at his answer. "Very good. Do you know why I conjured my Patronus tonight?"

Mystified, Neville shook his head, watching the way the light from her Patronus gave the illusion of her blond hair being laced with silver strands, like bits of moonlight.

Luna's gentle smile seemed to hold all the answers to all the mysteries of the universe. "A Patronus is made of memories. The only memories that can repel Dark creatures are ones of love, ones of happiness, ones of hope."

Luna leaned forward, suddenly looking more serious than Neville had ever seen her. "This school is not as it was. It has become dark, and evil seems to have seeped into every stone. This Patronus is to remind me—and you—that there have been better times, and there will be better times again, soon."

Neville stared at her, gaping. How did she come to that conclusion? How could a witch such as she—talented, beautiful, having been tortured and having witnessed some truly horrible things—still be optimistic, still look for the brighter side of every darkened situation? Perhaps that was why her presence was such a comfort to him—the hope and faith she exuded was an efficient way to calm his fears.

Leaning forward as well, Neville rested his forehead against hers, enchanted by the blue-white reflections in her silver eyes. "Luna, that's brilliant."

At his close proximity, Luna's smile faded somewhat, and her breathing increased. Gesturing to his still-lit wand, Luna looked up into his dark eyes and made a simple request.

"Remind yourself."

Raising the warm wood, Neville focused on the letter in his breast pocket, the letter he was never without. Receiving it was a moment he would always remember, and he knew that its contents were ones he would never forget.

…courage will keep you strong. You are your parents' son, and I have never been more proud of you than I am at this moment.

Your loving and proud grandmother,

Augusta

With a whispered "Expecto Patronum," Neville's Patronus slid from the end of his wand, stretching its lithe body as it took shape, as if it had just woken from a long nap.

Luna watched as the silver mongoose padded over to her hare, and the two appeared to touch noses in an animal greeting. "I've never seen your Patronus before."

"I don't use it often," Neville admitted, feeling a faint twinge of embarrassment as his weasel-like Patronus cavorted before them, supported by the memory of making his austere grandmother proud. He still remember the first time he had successfully conjured the charm, and the disappointment had he felt when a mongoose emerged.

"They are interesting creatures, aren't they?" Luna mused, smiling as the mongoose chased her hare.

"Interesting?" Neville blinked. No one had ever used that term for his Patronus before.

"They seem like such timid creatures," Luna continued, as if he hadn't interjected, "but once they are confronted with their mortal enemies, the snake, they become the most courageous creature, often attacking the snake one-on-one. It is very rare to see a mongoose lose such a battle."

Soothed by her words and bolstered by her confidence, Neville watched as the mongoose seemed to grow bigger, and the glow around him intensified.

"See?" Luna smiled at him, her warm hand finding his. "Hope is never far."

Neville returned the smile, feeling his earlier worries slide away in the face of her determined optimism. Impulsively, he pressed his lips to her cheek, and even the faint light of the two wands could not disguise the blushes that mantled both cheeks.

"We should both get some sleep," Neville filled the silence awkwardly, standing to his full height and offering Luna his hand. With a flick of his wand, the mongoose faded from view, and Luna's hare gave one last defiant bound before fading as well.

Luna's cheeks still bore a pink flush from his unexpected kiss, and she seemed so vulnerable, looking up at him.

"Good night, Luna," Neville said quietly, backing away before he gave in to the impulses that were rising fast—most prominently, the one that demanded that he take her into his arms and kiss her fully. Where had that come from?

Minutes later, Neville found himself back in his hammock, and his worries seemed oddly distant now, far from crushing him as they had threatened to before. He would deal with them in the morning.

Sleep came quickly and easily that night, much to his relief.