A/N: I still don't own the characters, or the Paramore song that loosely loosely loosely inspired this chapter. Thanks to my husband for Beta-ing even though this chapter is rather long. Edit: I didn't realize FF got rid of my strikethroughs... so in the correction letter below, imagine the underlined portions are strikeouts. Thanks!

Hannah recovered quickly and was back in classes within a week, despite Neville's insistence that she leave school for the rest of the year. The scare with Hannah had everyone compliant during the week before Easter holidays, completing lessons to the best of their abilities, trying to stay out of trouble for the first time since October. Scars faded, but never fully disappeared. The Carrows still had their eye on Neville, and despite his relative good behavior for the week, he was still the subject for demonstrations of torture techniques, and snide remarks in hallways made it painfully clear that they weren't done trying to deter him, that they would find more ways to force him into submission.

Despite the relative calm, tension in the air was nearly palpable, and the fading scars had Neville braced for news on whatever would be happening next. News came Thursday morning, as it usually does, in the form of the Daily Prophet. He wasn't sure why he still bothered receiving the newspaper, as he doubted far more than he believed, but twisted or not, it was some way to stay in touch with the outer world, to attempt deducing how much of a hold Voldemort had on the Ministry, the paper, the world at large. It was part of his morning routine to skim the article headlines during breakfast, but today he found himself choking on his bacon as he turned to page three.

Augusta Longbottom Captured

After many attempts to defy the Ministry, Augusta Longbottom, 76, was captured last week at her home in London. Longbottom attempted to overcome the Ministry workers sent to find her, but was easily overpowered. She is currently in a holding cell awaiting trial.

Neville wasn't sure how much truth there was in the article, but seeing his gran's name in the paper was enough to make his heart skip a few beats, and it was all he could do to keep himself from hyperventilating. Ginny and Hannah sat on either side of him, trying to calm him down, when their efforts were interrupted by an owl irritably pecking at Neville's forearm. He detached the note from its outstretched leg and sent the owl on its way, nearly sighing in relief to see his grandmother's handwriting spelling out his name. A Daily Prophet was attached to the note, but he opened the letter first.

Hello, dearie!

I'm not sure how often you get a chance to read the Daily Prophet, so I've included my copy along with this note. I'm mentioned on page three! Granted, not a single fact is right beyond the fact that people showed up at my house on Tuesday, but I still appreciate my fifteen minutes of fame. Go ahead and read the article, and below I've left my corrections to its text.

Neville exchanged the note for the newspaper in his hand, and turned dutifully to page three. He couldn't help but laugh at his grandmother, who'd taken the time to fold down the page and highlight the article where she was mentioned. Noting that it was the same article he'd just read, he returned his attention to the note, where his grandmother had transcribed the article.

After many attempts to defy the Ministry Death Eaters, Augusta Longbottom, 76, 74 (you think they'd at least get my age right), was captured attacked last week at her home in London (as if I would live in London! Honestly!). Longbottom attempted to overcome the Ministry workers Death Eaters sent to find her, but was easily overpowered them. She is currently in a holding cell awaiting trial -well, I can't tell you that, dear. But the Ministry is the last place you'd find me.

I hope you've come to regard the Daily Prophet for the quality of information it brings. A good Hogwarts barn owl should suffice for sending your poor old grandmother a letter in return. It's been awhile since I heard from you; you are like your father, as always. And no excuses about worrying for my safety. I highly doubt I'll be found, and even if I am, I've proven I can take care of myself now. I expect to hear from you by end of next week, or else you'll be sure to hear from me again.

All my love,

Gran

P.S. This year, I'd recommend a stay at Hogwarts for the Easter holidays.

"Wow." Ginny took the note from Neville and re-read it, then repeated herself. "Just, wow. I wonder where she is."

Hannah turned to him as well, took his hand into hers. "Are you going to write back?"

The question irritated him, and his voice was harsh as he responded to her. "What could I say? That I'm half-sure they attacked her because of me, like they took Luna because of her father? Do I give her a play-by-play of how my girlfriend was tortured? Do I send her a diagram of all my scars? And even if she isn't worried about being found, there is the trouble we could be in if I put information about the D.A. into the letter. I certainly can't tell her about the Galleons; it's driving the Carrows mad not knowing how we're doing it all. Give me a few days to think about it, and I'll write her next week, after the Easter holidays."

A kind of numbness took over Neville as he went through his day; it seemed his vision was blurry, though his vision was fine; his brain didn't seem to accompany him to any of his classes, including Herbology. His heart wasn't into anything because it was with his gran somewhere out in the world, half worried and half proud of her. Ginny had Dark Arts at the same time as seventh-year Herbology, and so his mind was with her, too, stretched in too many directions to concentrate, worried more than he'd been all year. The Carrows didn't seem to have boundaries, to have a line in the sand that defined fair play, and all he could think of was how long they had to wait for the next bad thing to happen.

The next bad thing was happening as he sat brooding in Herbology. After class that afternoon, Neville was sitting in a plush armchair, staring blankly at the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room when Ginny came in. She was much later than usual, but the look on her tearstained face combined anger with shock and sadness, and it kept him from reprimanding her.

"Ginny...?"

"There are some sick, sick people in the world, and they can all go to hell."

"What happened?"

The time she spent taking deep breaths with her head in her hands was nearly unbearable for Neville, but he didn't press her. It wasn't fifteen seconds before she began speaking, but it felt like a lifetime. "She was a first-year Gryffindor. I'd seen her in here a few times, poring over books. She reminded me a lot of Hermione, really, though they couldn't have looked more different. Carrow never said what her offense was. He didn't really have time. Richard Harper, and Howard Flint- you know Marcus's little brother- saw her up at the front of the class. She was trying to look brave, that much was obvious, and she stared straight at the class. But as Carrow got up to speak, Flint and Harper left their seats and began firing hexes and curses at her. I guess all of Carrow's classes had been working, too. I hadn't seen either of them use magic so effectively." She laughed, but the sound was cold and distant.

"I had to look away, by the end. We tried to get to them, stop them from what they were doing, but Carrow sent some milder hexes our way to stop us, then added a shield charm for good measure. The moment I could, I ran out looking for Padma. She was in Transfiguration at the time, and McGonagall didn't complain or even question as I pulled her into the hallway and back to the classroom. The girl was already limp by the time I got there, and the floor was soaked in blood. Everyone had left; they just left her there to- to-" A deep breath, a deliberate swallow to hold back a sob. But Ginny continued.

"Padma did all she could. But we were too late. They should've just used the Killing Curse, gotten rid of her outright instead of making her suffer like that. Oh Neville, I didn't even know her name."

At that, she fell apart. Ginny broke out into sobs that had Neville out of his chair and comforting her before he was aware of what he was doing. He sat silently beside her as she cried on his shoulder, his arm awkwardly around his friend. It was only the growling in both of their stomachs minutes or hours later had him carefully getting up from beside her.

"I'm going to go get some dinner; I'll bring you back something if you want."

She nodded slowly, like the energy it took to do so was more than she could bear. "I'd like that."

The Great Hall was more crowded than Neville was comfortable with as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. He saw Harper and Flint and had to stop himself from saying or doing anything to them. As he sat down and began to eat, Amycus Carrow stood up and cleared his throat. "I wanted to make a public announcement of some house points earned today. A half-blood little firstie was brought to my sixth-year class today for punishment, and as a result of the hard work of Richard Harper and Howard Flint, there is one less blood-tainted student among us today. For that, I award 25 points to each of them."

Many of the Slytherins were clapping and whooping, as they would for any house points they earned. Neville's attention couldn't stay there long. Two first-year Gryffindors far down the table from had thrown up into their food, and a Hufflepuff girl had fainted. Others, more brave and steady, were crying out in protest. He picked out the voices of Michael Corner, Ernie Macmillan, and Parvati Patil before grabbing randomly at the food in front of him to have something to bring back to Ginny; he ran from the hall the sound of the Slytherin cheering still ringing in his ears. His own vision became blurry as he fought the tears in his eyes, blindly dashing up and up, and not even running out of breath as he reached the Fat Lady and gave the password.

"Bamboozled." It seemed fitting.

His arrival felt like a reprise from earlier, except in reverse.

"Neville, what happened? You weren't gone half an hour."

"Carrow awarded Harper and Flint 25 house points each for what happened today." He handed her the food and nearly collapsed into the armchair he'd been sitting in earlier. "As if it wasn't already bad enough, he had to announce it like it was something to be excited about. Disgusting."

"No..." And though they sat together for another hour, it was the last word spoken between them before they went up to their respective dorms to sleep.

Neville couldn't remember anything specific about his classes that Friday. As he arrived in a classroom, he was surprised to find himself there, unable to remember the journey from one place to the next. He was glad it was a holiday weekend with little homework; he planned on sleeping it away, trying to remain in oblivion and out of his thoughts. After classes that afternoon, he found himself staring blankly at the fire in the Common Room, trying his hardest not to think. Ginny came in, limping and bleeding, and Neville, suddenly aware of himself and his surroundings, rushed to her side.

"Ginny! Are you okay? What happened? Have you talked to Padma?"

"I've seen Padma," she said, brushing off his attempts to help but still sitting in her usual place near the fire.

"Ginny," Neville repeated after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. "Why did they do this to you?"

She took a deep breath and stared at the ground in front of her as she began to speak. "They wanted me to look terrible when I went home for the holiday. They don't want me coming back, and I'm nearly certain it's going to work. Makes me wonder if my name's been pointing to 'Mortal Peril' on my mother's clock. If so, this is probably the last day I'll see you before summer."

"I'm sorry, Ginny."

Neville was virtually alone that weekend; every parent wanted their child home safe, where they could be properly looked after. Neville himself had nowhere to go. He wouldn't be spending his holiday at St. Mungo's, and couldn't go looking for his grandmother. He'd be a liability to the Weasleys, and Mr. Abbott wouldn't let him join Hannah. So he spent much of his time at the Room of Requirement, trying to figure it out, fairly certain they would have need for it again.

Monday morning arrived, and Hogwarts was less crowded than it had ever been before. Neville was in the Common Room when Parvati and Lavender returned, and he watched student after student file in, grave looks on their faces. Ginny never came.

At breakfast, he was nudged by Pigwidgeon, and gratefully took the letter from his leg. Neville noticed Ginny's handwriting and opened the scroll to see it was more a note than a letter, a short paragraph written hastily.

Neville,

I wanted to let you know I was right- about my parents and the clock. I won't be returning to Hogwarts this year, but I can't tell you where I am. Please don't send an owl back. I hope to see you soon, and please burn this when you get it.

Much love,

Ginny

P.S. I keep a Galleon in my pocket, for emergencies.

Neville sighed and held out his wand. "Incendio." With the way things were going at school, he'd soon have to find a place to hide, to keep himself safe from threats that just kept getting worse and worse. But Ginny's note had reminded him that he still had a letter to write to his grandmother. Having nearly an hour before his first class, Neville returned to the Common Room and grabbed parchment and a quill. He found it surprisingly easy to lie.

Dear Gran,

Thank you for your letter; I will make sure to remember the accuracy from the article about you every time I read the paper. As for how things are going at Hogwarts, well, things are definitely different than they used to be. I've hoped for change, and it gets better every day. There are still a few things going wrong here, but I am doing fine and can get through it all alone- since Harry Potter never showed up this year, and so many of my friends are not making it through the school year. We are definitely grateful that so far there has only been one death during class this year, and the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs have really become close this year. My Easter holiday was spent at school, as you requested. I hope you are doing well.

All my love,

Neville

Would she be able to sense his sarcasm? He hoped so. Could she pull out the truth from the lies? He was far from certain.