A/N:

Yikes! I'm back! So sorry for the wait...but I'm back for good now! The rest of this story is written and I'll be updating weekly from now one :o)

Ch. 43 Changed

Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes on him instead.

"And I don't know who you are."

"I'm nobody," said Neville hurriedly.

"No, you're not," said Ginny sharply. "Neville Longbottom – Luna Lovegood..."'

– Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix.

Neville

Neville knew what he was doing was irrational, but he couldn't help it. Maybe the rumours weren't entirely true, he thought desperately, as he started walking down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express a second time.

The stories he'd heard over the Easter holidays had been littered with holes, but he'd managed to piece together some kind of narrative from the information his gran had acquired and what was said on Potterwatch . Harry, Ron and Hermione and been caught by Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor but had somehow, thankfully, escaped. As a result, Ginny and all the Weasleys had gone into hiding and, in the process, Luna had somehow been found too and was hopefully somewhere safe now. Neville's heart had lightened with relief when he'd heard the news of his friends, and that Harry was still out there, fighting and doing…whatever it was that he needed to be doing.

Despite these rumours, and even though he knew it was unlikely, Neville still hoped that Ginny had somehow found a safe way to return to Hogwarts. He would be lost without her. First Luna, then Ginny. Brave, fierce Ginny who always knew what to do next, always managed to cajole a despondent DA into determined action, always rallied the group with her agitated passion and a voice raised higher than everyone else's put together. Ginny, who had once corrected him when he'd introduced himself as 'nobody'; who had seen his worth when he himself hadn't.

So when Neville had boarded the Hogwarts Express at the start of the summer term, he held onto a stubborn glimmer of hope that Ginny would be there. He had marched the length of the train, peering into every compartment, looking for a flash of red hair. But to no avail. At the end of the train, he turned, deciding he was too restless to find a seat yet, and started walking down the long corridor a second time. Maybe he'd missed her...

"Neville!" someone called behind him. It was a voice that reminded him of sweetness and sunshine, but it wasn't Ginny's.

He turned and saw Hannah approach him, a smile on her face that made her look hopeful and sad at the same time. How did she do that, Neville thought, display so many emotions on her face at once?

"I've seen you go past twice now?" Hannah queried gently as she reached him.

"I'm just looking for someone," Neville said, and turned to resume his search.

"Neville," Hannah said again, and because he found it impossible to rebuff twice, Neville halted, and looked her in the eyes for the first time. "She's not coming back. You must know that."

Neville opened his mouth to speak but found there were no words of objection there, for he knew deep down that Hannah was right.

"Ginny," Hannah stated in clarification. Her voice was so soft and quiet it was almost a whisper. "She would've had to go into hiding."

"I know but – I just thought, you know, that I'd double check. All the info we get is so second-hand and broken up."

"I know. But I think what we've heard about Ginny is true. I didn't see a single Weasley on the platform and they're usually not hard to spot."

Neville gave a short nod of acknowledgement. "Just. First Luna, now Ginny. I don't know what to do –" Neville broke off, unsure what he'd meant to say.

Hannah smiled and started to reach out to take his hand, then faltered and withdrew it. The tight knot in Neville's stomach loosened slightly as he looked at her. Even on the coldest days of winter at Hogwarts, Hannah Abbott always seemed to exude warmth: the liquid amber of her eyes, the way her hair shimmered different shades of gold as she moved, how her smile made you feel enveloped in a kind of tenderness.

"Come and sit with us," she suggested gently. "I'm with Ernie and Susan."

"Sure. Okay," Neville conceded, and followed Hannah to her compartment, as the train rumbled on to the mountains and lakes that housed their once-loved school.

It had all escalated rather quickly.

It was the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army, a few days into the new term, and to Neville's dismay the group were arguing amongst themselves, loudly and heatedly. Neville wasn't sure how it had started but they had been talking, somewhat anxiously, about the rumours they'd heard and who might be dead – and who might not be – then Ernie was saying something about how the Ravenclaws 'didn't know everything all the time' and that they needed to 'get their heads out from their own arses', and then Michael was saying something about how it was 'really fucking tiresome that the 'Puffs always thought they were the pinnacle of fairness and goodness', and then Seamus was trying to tell them all to 'calm the fuck down', and then several people were rounding on him, saying that the Gryffindors were the worst of them all for thinking they were 'so much better and braver and cooler'.

Neville stood silently as the argument spiraled, paralysed with apprehension and alarm. It was their first meeting without Ginny and already things were falling apart.

"Stop!" The cry was shrill and loud and cut above all the other agitated voices. The room fell silent as people turned towards its source: Hannah. "Look at yourselves! What are we doing? I know the stuff we're hearing is horrible, I know we're all upset about Ginny not coming back and that this school feels more like a Death-Eater-training-camp-come-prison than ever but –" Hannah wavered in exasperation, seeming to have run out of words.

There was a tense silence, which was leaden with the possibility that the argument was going to start again. Desperate for it not to, Neville found himself stepping forward.

"Hannah's right. We can't fight amongst ourselves. It makes us weaker, and that's exactly what they want. Because they're scared. They're scared of what we can do when we're united." To Neville's surprise, the group remained quiet and, buoyed by the fact that they all seemed to be listening, he continued. "We're already divided. The Sorting Hat did that on our very first day at this school. The colours on our ties, the common rooms we seek comfort in, the Quidditch teams we cheer – those things already divide us all. And that's been okay because it's provided us with somewhere to belong, and it was all just fun rivalry at worst. But we can't let that rivalry turn into resentment. We can't turn on each other because it distracts from the bigger picture, from the actual things we need to be fighting against! Remember what the Sorting Hat said at the beginning of the year –" Neville had to stop to take a breath.

"'Being sorted into these four houses can gift you with friends and allies, but it also splits and separates, causing you to doubt and to despise,'" Parvati said in a quiet voice.

"Yes!" Neville, exclaimed, smiling gratefully at Parvati.

The group were quiet. A sheepish awkwardness hung in the air.

"You're right, Nev," Ernie mumbled uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for what I said, about the other houses."

There was murmuring of agreement and apologies.

"So, are you going to lead us now, Neville?" Terry asked excitedly.

Neville felt a familiar feeling of alarm at the suggestion. "What? No…no…I can't – I mean, do we need a leader?"

Lavender laughed derisively. "You've just seen what a mess we can be. I think we definitely need someone. And it makes sense that it's you, Neville."

Did it? How did that make sense? Neville couldn't help but ask himself. But there was a ripple of agreement at Lavender's words and Neville found himself looking back at a sea of expectant faces. If Neville were to lead them, he couldn't help but think what he would be leading them towards.

Back in fourth year, when Harry and Cedric, united in a spirit of fairness, had simultaneously grasped hold of that cup that was actually a Portkey, they'd thought they were only playing a game. But they'd been sucked unknowingly into the start of a war, which had claimed one of their lives soon after.

Now, did they think they were fighting a war but were actually playing games? This bunch of kids that wanted to save the world – playing games that were far, far too big for them?

"Erm…I dunno," Neville garbled, suddenly feeling suffocated and having a desperate urge to run from the room. "Well - well, Padma was going to guide our session tonight. She was going to teach some more advanced healing charms." Neville thought his best strategy was to move the group onto the rest of the meeting.

Padma stepped forward. "Sure. Of course. I thought we'd start with wound healing..."

Ten minutes later, the urge to get out of the room had not left Neville. When he was sure everyone was distracted by the lesson, he snuck out of the door and made his way to the place in the castle where it was unlikely anyone could find him.

Neville sat on the edge of the battlements of the Astronomy Tower, staring out at a black sky. It had been risky, coming to the tower this late in the evening, he'd craved the wide view of the stars that the battlements provided. It always managed to calm him.

He must have been there for about fifteen minutes when he heard a scuffle behind him. Abruptly turning at the sound, he raised his wand, but relaxed when he saw the honeyed shine of Hannah's hair and the paleness of her face as she made her way over to where Neville was sitting. She sat down next to him, her moves tentative, ensuring her legs remained on the stone floor of the tower, whilst his dangled over the edge. She smiled in greeting and Neville turned wordlessly back to the stars.

After a moment of silence, Hannah spoke. "Sometimes, I want to disappear too."

Neville remained quiet, wondering how Hannah had found him here and how she had managed to sum up in a few words the complex range of emotions that had been dancing about his mind.

"Like drinking shrinking potion," Hannah continued, seemingly unfazed by Neville's lack of response. "But so much that I shrink and shrink until there's nothing left of me. Just for a bit, not forever, just when things get too much. Like that time in my Transfiguration exam when I turned a ferret into a bunch of flamingos and I was sure I'd messed up my whole OWL. And the other day when Amycus asked me to perform the Imperius Curse in Dark Arts."

Neville had heard about how Hannah had broken a Hufflepuff record by getting a detention on the first day of term. She had, again, refused to perform the Imperius Curse. She'd always hated that curse in particular, as much as he hated Crucio, and Neville had often wondered why.

"And like that day last year when I got called out of Herbology to Dumbledore's office," Hannah continued more quietly, her voice solemn. "My dad was there with Eloise. As soon as I looked at his face, I knew. But it was still a shock to hear the words. When Dumbledore said she'd died."

Neville looked at Hannah then and something tight clenched at his heart. Hannah never talked about her mother. He knew she had been killed by Death Eaters, but the details remained a mystery to almost everyone, as far as Neville knew.

"What happened, Hannah?" he asked gently. "To your mother? How did she die – exactly?"

Hannah shook her head. "I can't –" she started then stopped, and Neville was flooded with guilt for asking.

"That's okay. I'm sorry, it's none of my business." he said hurriedly

"It's just – it's hard. To speak about –"

"You don't have to tell me." Neville reassured.

They exchanged another smile, before a silence grew between them once more. Neville returned to thinking of what had brought him to the tower in the first place.

"I'm not the right person to lead, Hannah," he found himself saying. "I'm – I'm not a fighter. I'm a thinker. And – you've seen me, I hate confrontation, I always want people to just get along, unless someone really pisses me off. I've always said, we have to wait for Harry, I know he'll turn up and know what to do. They need to just wait for Harry –"

"Neville," Hannah interrupted with a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Don't you get it? They're not wanting you to be their leader despite all those things, they're wanting you to lead because of them. Because you think before launching into a fight. Because you seek to unite people and only decide on conflict when it's a last resort. Because you have an unwavering loyalty and faith in your friends, and in Harry, and in so doing have given hope to the doubters this whole school year." Hannah paused. "Besides, all this is a bit redundant anyway. You've been leading them – us – if not in name, but in action, for ages now."

Hannah's words reverberated around Neville's mind and as they finally settled, he felt something unusual but welcome rise up inside him: a kind of resolute confidence. Maybe he could do it. Ginny and Luna would be counting on him. And they would have faith that he could do it too.

"You don't have to do anything different, Neville," Hannah reiterated. " You've been doing it already for months now. And I think they – we – need you to carry on."

Parvati

On returning to Hogwarts after the Easter holidays, Parvati immediately noticed the change in Theo.

He looked different, for one thing: paler, thinner, with dark circles under his eyes. His walk was different too: his shoulders were always slumped, giving him a defeated air. Before, his eyes had been sharp and, despite the regime in place at the school, he'd remained curious in classes, frequently raising his hand with a certain energetic questioning. Now, he sat staring with blank eyes at the desk in front of him, as if looking but not seeing. Parvati wasn't sure if he was even listening in lessons. It was as if he was an empty shell of what he'd been before the holidays; existing but not living.

A few days into the term, she'd managed to slip another 'disguised' note into his library book, asking him to meet her in the broom shed that night. But he hadn't come. So she'd managed to sneak another one into his bag two days later, thinking maybe he hadn't got her first note or that something had prevented him from leaving his dormitory to meet her. But again, he failed to arrive, and she'd ended up falling asleep on the cushions, cold and alone.

She tried to catch his eye in lessons, the Great Hall, as they passed each other in the corridors, but he always avoided her gaze. Finally, she realised with a sinking heart that he was deliberately avoiding her. She considered countless reasons for why this might be, but she couldn't convince herself of any of them.

In an effort to communicate with him, she did something quite reckless. She followed him to a quiet part of the library as he went searching for a book and stood by him, under the guise of scanning the shelves. She could sense him stiffen by her side, but otherwise he didn't acknowledge her.

"Why are you ignoring me?" she whispered, when she was as sure as she could be that they wouldn't be overheard. She cringed at herself for the childishness of the question.

"Stay the fuck away from me, Patil," he bit out contemptuously, before walking away.

His words and tone were like a punch in the gut and it took a moment or so for her heart to slow and for her to squash back the hot sting of tears in her eyes.

Still, she didn't give up. She noticed how he left the Quidditch stands during the middle of a match and hurried down to the ground, meeting him at the bottom. There was no one else around and their voices would be drowned out by the noise of the crowd in the seats above them.

His eyes darkened when he saw her. "I told you to stay away from me."

"Theo," she began tentatively. "I don't understand. Last term – you were – we were – why are you being like this?"

"Can't you get a hint? I'm not interested anymore. I don't want you. You were fun to play with for a while but I'm bored of you now."

Although his words cut through her like knives she just, well, didn't quite believe them. But before she could respond, he was gone.

So it was by chance that she found herself alone with him again. Well, not quite by chance. She had started going to the broom shed when she couldn't sleep. The memories it evoked helped her relax and lull her into a slumber on the oversized cushions.

Which was where she was in the early hours of an April morning, about a week into the summer term, when the door slowly opened and Theo walked in. She rose hastily and was so pleased to see him, she cried out his name with uninhibited warmth and affection.

A look of surprise crossed his face before it turned into one of familiar guardedness. His eyes flitted over her and settled on a spot over her right shoulder.

"Can. A. Man. Not get. Any fucking peace ?" Theo seemed to growl agitatedly, before turning towards the door.

But before he could leave, Parvati found herself raising her wand and crying out two spells in quick succession. "Expelliarmus! Colloportus!"

Theo's wand sailed through the air and she caught it neatly in her hand just as the shed door locked into place. His lips parted in surprise. He knew she was good at charms and that there was no getting through her locking spell without magic.

Parvati was painfully reminded of another time, months ago now, when they had both been locked in a confined space together. The irony did not escape her that, whereas last time she would have given anything to get out of the cupboard and escape him, this time she had deliberately caused Theo to be trapped in with her.

"Patil," Theo said warningly. "Give me back my wand and unlock that door. Now."

"No," she said defiantly. "Not until you give me an explanation. For why you're been behaving like this."

His lips curled into a sneer. He looked down at the ground as he spoke.

"I told you. I'm not interested any more. Stop living up to your lion stereotype and being so proud and dramatic about it. It's fucking tiresome. You were a piece of fun I've got bored off."

His words made her stomach turn but, again, Parvati could not believe them. She could tell by the way Theo's arm twitched and how he was avoiding eye contact with her, that there was a whole bubbling of emotions simmering under the surface of him.

His eyes flicked momentarily up to hers.

"Don't make me hurt you," he bit out between clenched teeth. "Just give me my wand and let me leave. You've seen what happens when I get angry. And I'm angry right now."

"I don't believe you'll hurt me," she said, aware that this wasn't the first time she'd had to convince him of the fact.

He raised his eyebrows and let out a low, incredulous chuckle. "You have no idea."

"I think I do. I think I do have an idea. I know you're not a danger to me, Theo."

He rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly, then stilled and studied her, as if making a decision. His eyes were haunted. It seemed like minutes before he spoke again.

"Then maybe this will convince you," he eventually said resignedly, and started unbuttoning his left shirt cuff.

He held her gaze, defiant and bold, as he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a black mark on his forearm, outlined in red, crusted blood, of a skull with a snake curling out of its mouth.

A/N: As ever, your comments are cherished and treasured.