Neville stepped out of the floo at his family home. He was immensely tense, and his grip on Harry's sword tightened. He knew he had a few hours until LeStrange was supposed to show up and Neville figured he would prepare himself.
He already had a pretty decent advantage. He'd grown up on these grounds and knew them quite well. If he needed to get away from LeStrange to catch his breath, he knew of a handful of places he could slip into. And while he planned to keep the fight outside, If they wound up in the house, he'd truly have the upper hand.
He glanced around the sitting room where his Grandmother could usually be found reading, or pouring over new bills being introduced in the Ministry. She'd been a very stern and strict guardian, yet, at times, she could be quite kind… in her way. Neville gave a slight chuckle at that thought. He remembered how she'd looked at him the last time they had spoken. She had been… proud. She'd been quite pleased with him, and she'd like Hermione as well. He hoped that she would be proud of him when this day was over.
He was suddenly overcome by the desire to see his bedroom. He dashed up the ornate spiral staircase and down the hall to the room he'd spent his years growing up in. It was just as he'd left it two years ago when Dumbledore came to retrieve him. There was a letter from Hermione that he'd gotten that day on his desk, right where he'd left it. He'd only just finished reading it when his grandmother called him downstairs where Dumbledore was waiting. Only two days after Ron Weasley's funeral.
Neville went to the desk and reverently picked up the letter and read it once again.
Neville,
It's only been a day and I find myself missing you so terribly. So much happened this year that when I look back, it seems impossible that it all happened in one year. We lost a great friend. We fought a battle that most fully qualified wizards wouldn't have walked away from. We rebelled against our own government.
And most important of all, we found each other.
I have to admit to you that when Ginny first blurted out that you fancied me, I was truly gob smacked. But I'm happy that she exposed your secret. If she hadn't, I don't think I would have found the courage to kiss you that day we played football.
I guess what I'm saying is that I'm truly thankful that it's you in my life. I love you Neville, and I can't wait until we're together again so I can say it to you directly.
I'm going to ask my parents if you can come over for a bit during the holidays. I don't like the thought of waiting to see you for three months.
Write to me soon.
Love
Hermione.
Neville sighed deeply as he folded the letter and stuffed it into his pocket. He hadn't really needed the reminder of Hermione's feelings for him, but somehow, he garnered more strength from her written words. The memory of their lovemaking the night before embolden him a bit, and he check the clock that rest by the bedside table to check the time. Still two hours at least.
Neville decided that it would be best to try and give himself a few more advantages. Heading out to the greenhouses that had occupied much of his time during past summers, he scanned the untended and in many cases, dead plants for anything that he might use in the coming fight.
Neville had thought long and hard about this day. He knew that LeStrange was one of the enemy's most powerful soldiers, and he also knew how the man love inflicting pain. He'd been married to the most sadistic woman Neville had ever heard of. Bellatrix LeStrange. Neville was sure that Rudolphus LeStrange would fight very dirty. There was no honor in that man.
Then again, Neville felt the man deserved no honor in their coming duel. He'd been given Harry's sword, and the greenhouse, as barren as it appeared to be, had yielded a few Tentacular leaves, which he could crush into a powder and if he got close enough, throw into LeStrange's face. Neville knew a good handful would temporarily blind his foe as well as make it difficult to breath for a bit.
He also found two pods from a snargoluff plant. The sap within the pods would make any flesh it touched swell up to balloon proportions. If Neville could get some on LeStrange's hands, his opponent would have a very difficult time holding a wand.
Neville got to work on the tentacular leaves and placed the pods in his right pocket. Once the leaves were nothing but a fine powder, Neville conjured a small vial and carefully poured the powder inside before corking it. There was nothing left to do but to go to the front of the house and wait for his destiny.
At exactly ten, Neville heard the distinctive pop of apparition, and from the front steps of his family home, he saw the front gates open, and the distinctive black robes of the Death Eaters. Neville felt a small wash of relief as he could se that the figure was alone. LeStrange had apparently kept to their contract.
LeStrange was slightly taller than Neville, though much more broad in the chest. He lowered his hood, and Neville got a good look at the last living person responsible for his mother and father's madness.
His cold brown eyes were a bit sunken, with deep black circles, like he'd not slept in months. He looked thinner somehow, compared to the last time they had seen each other in Daphne Greengrass' home. His chin was covered by a thick stubble of a beard, and his wand was already drawn, clutched tightly in his thin fingers.
"Longbottom." LeStrange snarled.
"I'm surprised." Neville said, getting to his feet and drawing his own wand. "I was sure you'd come with friends, too afraid to face me alone."
"I don't need any help to kill a squib." LeStrange snapped, menace in his cold cruel eyes.
"This 'squib' killed your brother and your wife."
Both men began to circle unconsciously. Neville raised his wand just as LeStrange did, keeping himself ready to dodge, as he was positive there'd be no warning. As far as Neville was concerned, the duel had started.
"Not as a wizard." LeStrange snapped angrily. "You stabbed them. Fought like a filthy animal. A muggle. You're no wizard. You're meat."
Lestrange's wand flicked, and a bright orange blast shot out at Neville, who bent backwards to dodge the hex. He returned fire with two hexes of his own. LeStrange already had conjured a shield however, and he was able to absorb Neville's volley. LeStrange began to laugh but Neville merely narrowed his eyes.
"Is that the best you got, boy? No wonder you had to cheat."
"Bellatrix did as well. If you remember, I killed her with her own knife."
LeStrange's laughter died. His lip curled and he glared at Neville. LeStrange snapped his wand at Neville and the same bright orange spell rush out towards Neville, who again leapt out of the way. That was when the duel changed. Neville had only barely landed on his feet when LeStrange began giving chase, firing spell after spell after spell. Neville ran away from LeStrange, doing his best to weave and dodge, trying his best not to make himself an easy target. Through it all, Neville knew it was just a matter of time.
The ground behind him exploded, and he felt himself lifted into the air, spinning head over heels to land hard behind a large hedge. Neville heard LeStrange laughing as he closed in on his prey. Neville groaned as he rolled onto his stomach and hefted himself up onto his knees. He felt a wave of dizziness for a moment, and shook his head to clear it.
"Nice trip, Longbottom?" LeStrange cackled as he drew closer. Neville quickly got to his feet, keeping low. He had the hedge between himself and LeStrange and that gave him a bit of an edge. He tightened his grip on his wand and moved along the hedge grove, careful not to disturb it, giving himself away. As LeStrange rounded the corner, Neville was waiting for him.
"Sectumsempra." He called out.
"Not this time squib." LeStrange bellowed, ducking out of the way of the spell. He flicked his own wand, but Neville was already moving, and a huge hole was blasted in the hedge.
"Get back here and die like a man!" LeStrange shouted.
"You first!" Neville replied, firing three hexes which LeStrange ducked and shielded himself against.
That's when Neville first noticed it. LeStrange was tiring. He wasn't fully healed from Hermione's hex. Neville wasn't sure how that was possible. It had been a month. He should be right as rain, especially with Healers and such under Voldemort's control. But who was he to question these things. Neville now realized he had another advantage.
LeStrange threw another volley of spells at Neville, which he managed to dodge, some only just barely. Yet Neville felt if he kept LeStrange moving and casting, he'd tire, and Neville would be able to finally end it all.
"Diffindo!"
Neville knew his luck wasn't going to hold forever. LeStrange had finally drawn first blood. Neville launched himself behind the fountain to give himself a moment to see how badly he'd been hurt. Thankfully it wasn't a deep cut, and it was only on his bicep, but it was till first blood.
"What's the matter, squib? Do you have a boo-boo? Would you like me to fetch your mummy so she can kiss it all better?" LeStrange cackled. Neville's blood began boiling at the mention of his mother. He reached up under his jacket to make sure the sword Harry had given him was still secured there. He had cast a sticking charm to the sheath and placed it on his back and then shrank it a bit so it was hidden under his jacket. The sword was still there, but Neville decided not to use it just yet. At least not until he'd drawn a little of LeStrange's blood.
"Come on Squib." LeStrange shouted, his voice much closer. Neville realized he'd made another mistake. He'd given the man a chance to rest, to catch his breath. He popped up from his hiding spot and snapped off to bombardment spells before running again. He heard LeStrange shout, and chanced a look over his shoulder. Apparently LeStrange had been much close than he'd though and his spell had actually hit the man's left arm.
Blood was pouring down from a gaping wound, and the man's arm was hanging rather limply. LeStrange stuck his wand right in the hole and cast a fire spell, cauterizing it, and screaming in pain. Neville spun on his heel, nearly losing his balance all tighter. He raised up his wand and fired a stunner, which LeStrange some how managed to avoid. Neville's frustration began to build as he began moving closer to his fallen enemy.
He stopped suddenly when he realized what was happening. LeStrange was playing possum. He was trying to lure Neville in closer for the killing strike, and Neville was walking right into it, like a prat.
"I'm not falling for this one, you maggot." Neville shouted, his wand held steady. "You're going to have to earn it, bootlicker."
"I'll show you bootlicking."
The voice was behind him. Neville turned and felt something hard connect with his jaw. Neville fell back onto the ground and rolled just as another bright orange hex blasted the grass where he'd just been lying. On his feet again, Neville charged and was rewarded when he heard the air being forced out of LeStrange's lungs.
The two men fell in a tangle of arms and legs. Neville tried to get his wand tip pointed at LeStrange while the much stronger man did the same. Both of them clawed, punched and spit at each other, trying to get better leverage over the other. Neville even tried to get his hands around the man's throat, but Rudolphus punched Neville's stomach. After that they both focused on their wands and trying to hit the other with something. Sparks flew out, singing the earth as the two men continued to struggle.
"Why won't you just die?" Rudolphus snarled, spit flying from his mouth and splashing coldly on Neville's face.
"I've been waiting for you to show me how it's done, you son of a bitch!"
LeStrange brought his knee up and landed a hard kick into Neville's kidneys at the same time, wrenching his arms out of Neville's grasp and rolling away. Neville felt like he was going to throw up, but he still forced himself to move as quickly as he could manage. HE got to his feet and tripped to his knees at once. He glanced down and saw that the sword had been torn off his back, as part of his shirt was still attach to the sheath.
"A sword?" LeStrange asked, looking at Neville. "You fancy yourself a swordsman, do you? What was your plan boy? Get in close and stab me through the heart like you did my wife and brother?"
"Actually, I stabbed you wife through her throat. She wouldn't shut up!"
"AVDA KEDAVRA!"
Neville leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the killing curse. He knew that his original plan was pointless. He was getting tired now, and needed to catch his breath. Of course it would give Lestrange the same much needed break, but if he didn't get a moment to rest, he was going to die.
"Where are you going boy?" Lestrange bellowed as Neville stormed into his house. It was huge, and it would take a bit of time for LeStrange to find him. Neville ran as fast as he could up the stairs all the way into the attic. There was only one entrance, and he would be able to hear LeStrange coming long before the bastard even spotted Neville.
Ducking behind several large trunks, Neville tried his best to steady his breathing. He checked his arm and saw the cut he'd gotten from LeStrange's Diffindo was already scabbing. It hadn't been to bad. What was worse was the Neville's left eye was swelling shut.
Slowly he began gaining back his breath. He decided he needed a new plan. He did have an advantage over LeStrange. If he could keep the man moving and casting he would tired quickly. The problem was that, as Neville had discovered, LeStrange would manage to get a spell or two in and Neville didn't want to risk that spell being something serious.
Several noises caught Neville's attention. It sounded like every single door being slammed shut, including the attic door. Neville got up and saw that indeed the door had been closed. Neville went to the door, still breathing heavily, and reached out to grasp the latch, only to be burned.
"What the hell?"
"LONGBOTTOM?"
Neville turned and rushed to the window and looked out, careful not to reveal himself. He could see LeStrange staring up from the grounds, looking triumphant.
"Since you're to cowardly to face me like a real wizard, then I'll simply have to kill you another way. I killed hundreds of families like this. I only wish I'd brought some food. Nothing tastes better like a rabbit roasted over an open flame!"
With that, LeStrange flicked his wand in several directions. Neville now understood what had happened. LeStrange had sealed the doors and was now igniting the house on fire.
"Now how is that fair?" Neville balked at the stupidity of it all.
He rushed back to the door and tried a few spells trying to unlock the door so he could get out. Nothing worked. He could already feel heat building, and faint traces of smoke began to seep under the door.
"Something's not right here." Neville thought. The fire was spreading far to quickly, and heating up far faster than seemed plausible. He heard explosions of glass from somewhere deep in the house and more smoke began pouring into the attic from different places.
"Aguamenti." Neville said, aiming his wand at the floor, hoping he might somehow cool down the attic, or even put out the fire, but the water had barely left his wand tip when it evaporated.
"No." Neville said in disbelief. "Fiendfyre."
Fear gripped Neville's heart then. Fiendfyre was an intensely hot and fast burning flame, which often took form of some sort of creature, consuming whatever was in it's path in mere moments. Most magical people didn't dare use it as it was very difficult to control. Neville remembered hearing a story his great uncle had once told him about a man who had used fiendfyre to clear away a field of brush and nearly destroyed a whole city in America. The fire had eventually been blamed on a cow or something, but Neville never forgot the story.
Neville went back to the window. He was three stories up, and there was nothing soft to break his fall.
"Ok. I never ever tell Hermione about this." He vowed before taking a few steps back. Neville turned and readied himself. Taking a deep breath he was about to begin running when part of the floor gave out and a tongue of flame shot up through the floor, igniting nearly everything on fire, including Neville's clothing.
Screaming, Neville fell to his knees, struggling to tear off his jacket to keep from burning alive. Flinging off the garment, Neville shot forward crossing his arms in front of his face and leapt out of the attic window. As he fell, Neville tried to angle himself so that he would do the most damage to his legs.
The ground came rushing up to meet him and then, fell away again. Neville actually bounced off the bounced and into a mess of bushes. Neville was thoroughly shocked to find that not only was he in one piece, but that was unhurt, at least he was sure he hadn't been hurt. Memories of being thrown out a window when he was younger came flooding into his mind. He began to chuckle softly as he extracted himself.
"Accidental magic? Really?" He laughed, collecting his wand.
All laughter died when the bushes went up in flames, causing him to stumble backwards.
"I knew I'd get you to face me if I lit that hovel on fire." LeStrange was shouting as he ran forward. His eyes were narrowed slits, and he looked completely psychotic. Neville's mind flashed on a similar mask of bloodlust two years before, when Bellatrix had straddled him, preparing to end his life.
Neville's wand came up and he shouted a bombardment spell, just as LeStrange did the same. The spells impacted each other, and the shockwave blasted the combatants off their feet. Neville's head struck a tree, while LeStrange was knocked head over heels, landing on the stone walkway near the fountain. Both men were on their feet in a instant.
LeStrange was no longer interested in ending the fight quickly, as had been his original goal. He was surprised at Longbottom's aptitude. The boy had certainly more power than many believed. LeStrange hadn't faced a competent opponent in such along time that he felt rejuvenated, though he was very tired and still weak from his time in the infirmary. Now that he was out and fighting, he was more sure than ever that Snape had been doing something to his potions. Once he finished this fight with Longbottom, he intended to make Snape suffer and reveal him for the traitor he knew the greasy coward to be.
For now, however, he felt it was time to make the boy suffer. Longbottom was shaking his head, obviously trying to clear the cobwebs. LeStrange took advantage and sliced the air several times. Deep cuts appeared on Longbottom's chest, and the boy cried out with each new wound.
"I want you to cry like the child you are, boy! Scream for me. CRUCIO!"
Neville launched himself behind the tree he'd struck with his head to avoid the torture curse. He only just avoided it, and he thanked whoever was watching out for him. Knowing he wouldn't last long behind the tree, however, Neville took the fight to LeStrange.
It was like a scene from some long forgotten epic painting. The two combatants facing each other while a great fire blazed behind them, nearly encircling them as the fiendfyre began to grow and get out of control.
Neville did his very best to think of every sinister spell that Sirius Black had taught him, while LeStrange countered with his vast knowledge of dark magics. They danced and leapt, neither bothering to raise a shield, as it would have been counter productive to their fight. Closer and closer they drew to each other as the intensity of their spell work grew more and more deadly.
But then, LeStrange shocked Neville, and disarmed him. Neville had been so stunned by the sudden shift, that he was unable to dodge, and his wand slipped from his hand. Neville only faltered a second. Thankfully, LeStrange was gloating, and didn't press his sudden advantage. It was the opening Neville needed. He shoved his hand into his pocket and grasped the vial of tentacular powder, and unstoppered it before darting forward and throwing the powder right into LeStrange's eyes.
LeStrange lashed out, firing a cutting hex which caught Neville's shoulder. Neville tripped over something, and fell hard to the now roasting ground. The flames were growing closer and closer now, and Neville knew he had only one chance.
LeStrange howled in agony, clawing at his eyes and cursing Neville's name. He fired spell after spell in every direction, hoping to kill the boy once and for all.
Neville kept low as he turned to face LeStrange, all the while thinking of what he could do. LeStrange still had his wand. He was weaponless. That is, until he found Harry's sword, still lying on the ground near the fountain, not ten feet away. Smiling, Neville slithered for the sword, and clutched it up in his hands. It had reverted back to it's full length, the shrinking charm having faded. Neville unsheathed the blade, admiring the way it gleamed in the firelight and the sun.
LeStrange was still spinning and screaming and tearing at his eyes. Blood was now pouring down the man's face from where his fingernails had torn into his face. Neville stood, and raised the blade, preparing to strike. He began to move, and everything felt like it slowed to a crawl. Closer and closer he drew to finally ending the life of one of the men who had tortured his parents and robbed him of their influence. He was nearing the end of his war at last.
Then he felt his chest suddenly rip open. His feet slid out from under him and he fell onto his back. He managed to cling to the sword, but his body began to seize up with the pain. His slide took him right in front of LeStrange who was finally managing to regain his sight, at least enough to see that Neville was before him.
Neville stared in horror at the gaping wound in his chest. Blood was flowing out onto his clothes and now staining the ground around him. He began to shake as he realized exactly what had happened to him. LeStrange had learned and used the Sectumsempra spell.
LeStrange glared down at him, his wand aimed right at his face.
"I'm going to watch you bleed out, just like the stuck pig you are, Longbottom. Then I'll throw your died out corpse into the fire."
Neville glared hard at the man. Gripping the sword as tight as he could, Neville slashed it across his body, cutting LeStrange's hand clean off at the wrist. Rudolphus LeStrange feel to his knees, staring blanking at his fallen limb. Neville struggled to his own knees, feeling his life draining out of him. He wasn't sure how much longer he had, but he planned to make the most of it.
Just as LeStrange turned to look at him, Neville had raised the sword, and just has he'd promised Harry, Shoved it right into the man's throat.
Then everything began to blur, and he felt himself falling. Neville was sure that he heard someone calling to him from far far away as blackness crept in and embraced him.
So caught up in their battle were Neville and Rudolphus, that they did not hear the multiple pops of apparition, or notice the wall of fiendfyre began to die out. Nor did either man see the faces of the newcomers as they witnessed the very end of the battle.
Sirius Black, Bill Weasley Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Mad-Eye Moody had immediately tended to reigning in the fiendfyre. It was slow going, but the three men were quite accomplished wizards, and in the end, were able to but out the magical fire once and for all.
Amelia Bones led Harry, Daphne and Hermione, towards the fallen combatants. Hermione shrieked in horror when she saw how bad her beloved was, and begged for someone to do something to help him. Fortunately, Harry bounded into action, as he was the only one there who knew the counter spell for the Sectumsempra spell.
Harry closed his eyes and summoned all his power and concentration to close Neville's chest. Hermione held onto her lover and watched as Harry's wand traced a slow line up Neville's torso and knitted the flesh back together. She held his hand in hers, softly begging Neville to open his eyes and let her know he was still there.
When the fire was put out, Sirius led the others to surround Neville and Hermione, as Harry continued his work. Amelia tore herself away to go check on the other body. LeStrange lay on his back, propped up by the sword sticking his throat. His eyes were wide, and he was choking on his own blood.
Amelia saw that his wand hand lay a few inches in front of him, his wand still clutched in it's grip. The former head of the DMLE bent and snapped the wand before getting to her feet once again.
"Rudolphus LeStrange, I hope that every demon in hell gets orgasmic pleasure in inflicting every sadistic torture upon you for all eternity, you bastard."
With that, she reached out to take hold of the sword hilt and twisted it hard. The was a sickening crunch as the blade ground against LeStrange's spinal cord. His eyes went wide and the was a gurgle and more blood spilled from his throat. Then, slowly, his breathing fell silent, and his eyes fell closed.
Amelia spat on the man's face, and tugged the sword out.
"Well done, son." Moody complimented as Harry rocked back on his heels. "you got to him just in time. His pulse is weak, but it's there."
"He's alive?" Hermione asked, tears streaming down her face.
"Aye lass." Moody nodded. "We need to get him back and start getting blood replenishes in him. Sirius, Weasley, give me a hand."
Bill Weasley levitated Neville, while Sirius conjure a stretcher. Neville was strapped to the stretcher, and Moody placed a charm on it that would protect the patient and keep him from getting jostled during apparition. He and Bill then apparated away.
"Come on Harry." Daphne said, helping a very tired Harry to his feet. Sirius took hold of Hermione who was now almost paralyzed with worry and despair. Harry saw how desperately frightened Hermione looked, and hated it. He wanted to do something, anything to ease her suffering, but he knew it was all useless.
He looked at Daphne, whose face mirrored his own broken heart, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
"Alright." Amelia shouted to the remaining Order team. "Let's get out of here."
And with a few loud cracks, Longbottom Manor was left silent once again. The once fine manor and grounds were now nothing more than a charred ruin.
