Ch. 47 Rats, Wrappers and Retaliation

'"Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now." But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the sweet wrapper into his pocket.' - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.


Dumbledore! Neville thought joyfully. He'd never died! Or else he'd somehow come back to life...hadn't he?

But no, looking more closely, this man wasn't Albus Dumbledore after all. He had the same sparkling blue eyes and a similar long, bushy beard, but the colour of said beard was more brown than grey, and his lips were thinner.

"Who in Godfric's name are you and how is it that you have happened to appear behind a painting in my house? Explain yourself boy!" the man bellowed in a deep, commanding tone.

Neville glanced hastily around the room before responding, trying to gain more information in order to judge the situation. But there was nothing unusual in the apparent cellar, except what looked like a few beer barrels standing in the corner. Neville reminded himself that the ROR would not have sent him into harm's way and it was this, as well as some kind of instinct, that led Neville to trust the man.

"My name is Neville Longbottom," he explained. "I'm a student of Hogwarts...but then, I suppose I might not be anymore. I was hiding in the castle because – because Death Eaters were after me, and a portrait appeared on the wall – of a young girl with blond hair – and behind it was this passageway which I followed and – and I got here." Neville finished.

The man studied Neville for a long moment before finally lowering his wand, his shoulders sagging slightly as if in relief.

"Neville Longbottom?" he asked gruffly. "Son of Alice and Frank?"

"Yes," Neville said, feeling heartened by the fact the man had called his parents by their first names. That could only be a good sign, couldn't it?

"They were good people, your parents. Brave. Your gran's made of strong stuff too." The man nodded shortly, as if agreeing with himself, and Neville felt buoyed further at his words. "Well, what're you doing still standing there for? Come in!"

Smiling to show his gratitude, Neville jumped down into the room as the man held out his hand for Neville to shake it.

"Aberforth Dumbledore," he stated as Neville took his hand. "Your old headmaster's brother, to be precise. And landlord of the Hog's Head, the cellar of which you happened to have found yourself in. Now, why is that do you think?"

Thoughts shifted in Neville's mind – he hadn't known Dumbledore had had a brother. But then, he realised, he hadn't known anything about Dumbledore's family. Neville explained to Aberforth about the Room of Requirement, of his hunger and thinking – wishing – for food, and then of how the tunnel had appeared.

When Neville finished, Aberforth nodded in acknowledgement. "That castle holds magic too ancient and complex for most of us to understand," he mumbled, then commanded sharply, "Stay here." He waved his hand dismissively to indicate that by 'here' he meant the cellar, and left the room.

Nevile took the opportunity to take in his surroundings in more detail. He could see the other side of the portrait now and noted that it was of the same, smiling blond girl. Now Neville was looking more closely at it, he saw how she had the same blue eyes as Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore.

He looked around and aimlessly started examining an odd assortment of items on a nearby shelf. There was a heap of clothes piled on it including, bizarrely, a Hogwarts school uniform. He reached out and gingerly sifted through the pile. There were, in fact, several school uniforms, including school ties – at least one each with stripes of red, blue, yellow and green. Why on earth were these students' clothes in a pile in Aberforth's cellar? And where were their owners? A shiver prickled down Neville's spine. Then, like a final puzzle piece slotting into place, Neville thought he had the answer.

A few moments later, Aberforth shuffled into the room, carrying a plate of thickly cut bread and a steaming pewter bowl which was emitting a mouth-watering smell of meat and onions. Aberforth inelegantly plonked the plate and bowl down on the table. "Here," the man stated. "Eat."

Neville hadn't moved so fast in all his life. He swiftly hurried to sit at the table and started wolfing down the meal. He had many questions for Aberforth, but his deep hunger made him prioritise eating the food in front of him. It was delicious, and it was only as he was eating the last mouthfuls that Neville even processed what it was: beef stew. Not as good as his gran's, but it was heavenly none-the-less.

Aberforth had been looking shrewdly at him for the duration of Neville's glutinous display. When Neville finished, they were both silent for a few moments.

"Thank you. Thanks so much, that was really good," Neville gushed, and Aberforth gave him a small smile – the first, genuine smile Neville had seen from him. Neville eyed the school uniforms. "It was you, wasn't it? That helped the students that have disappeared? You helped them escape from the school?"

Aberforth followed Neville's gaze to the shelf. "I did, and I have. If they could make it to the pub, I would shelter them here until an Order member would come to take them away. I got them a change of clothes, because going about in their school uniform was, of course, not the safest thing for them. I should really burn that pile," he gestured to the discarded clothes, "rather incriminating otherwise, but I suppose it just doesn't feel right, destroying their uniforms…"

"That was – that was a good really good of you. Did – did you help a girl called Marietta?"

Aberforth nodded. "She was one of the first students I hid. Poor girl...she seemed...lost...not quite there. But then I heard she'd been in the hands of Macnair, and understood why," he shook his head gravely. "She and her family should be safely in France now, if they've been lucky."

"But how did they get to you? From the school?" Neville asked. He knew the DA hadn't helped any of them – they hadn't been able to, not with all the exits having been blocked or guarded all year.

"I don't know precisely. All I know is that I have an old painting of my brother in my sitting room. And one day, at the beginning of this school year, he said to me that children may start coming into my pub. That they would approach the bar, ask for an elderflower cordial and say 'I heard you have rats in your cellar'. 'They'll be in dire need, Aberforth' my brother – or rather, the memory of him – said. 'They'll need to escape from the wizarding world. And you must keep them safe until an Order member comes to take them away.'

"We didn't get on, my brother and I, we had...differences...but when it comes to children's lives, those differences really don't seem to matter anymore. And so they started coming, exactly like Albus said they would – creep in the door and up to the bar, asking for an elderflower, and then chanting the line about the rats in the cellar. When I asked them who accompanied them to the pub, they always said they couldn't remember...I have a feeling that the memory of their journey here had been obliviated. But then, it's often best not to ask too many questions. And you – I expect you'll be wanting to make an escape now too?"

Neville's mind reeled. He'd never imagined that there'd be a safe way out of Hogwarts, so had never seriously considered the possibility of escaping the castle. Now, when the opportunity seemed like a reality, he realised that it wasn't one he wanted to take.

"No. I can't leave them. The DA. The other students. I need to stay."

Aberforth graced him with a rare smile once again. "You're like your parents in more than looks," he commented, before rising and carrying the plate and bowl to the narrow stairway in the corner. Neville's heart clenched at his words. "I can keep you stocked for food – come through tomorrow morning, and I'll have some for you then. And your friends as well if they need it."

Neville felt a swelling of gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore," he said.

Aberforth turned before ascending the stairs, gave Neville a half smile and a wink and said, "Call me Ab."


Later that evening, a few hours after Neville had returned from the cellar of the Hog's Head, the door of the Room of Requirement appeared within one of its walls and an assortment of DA members finally tumbled through it.

'Tumbled' was the right word, because they came haphazardly through the door, with half of them seeming to hold the other half up. Neville's stomach roiled disconcertingly as he made his way towards them and helped Seamus, who was white, weak and silent, down onto some cushions. Lavender was letting out wracking sobs, her whole upper body convulsing with each cry. Her normally pristine hair was tousled, her cheeks blotchy and eyes red.

Hannah who, to Neville's relief, appeared okay – except her face was drawn in the way it did when she was trying to hide her anxiety – approached him and gave him a quick but intense hug.

"What's happened?" Neville demanded, once Hannah released him.

Padma, who was helping a shaking Parvati down next to Seamus, turned to him. "The Carrows were really angry after the fight in the Muggle Studies class, after you ran away. They kept those that had fought in the dungeons. Not for The Fear, just to keep them contained somewhere. And the rest of us, they had teachers or the IS watching us like hawks, so we couldn't make it here until now, sorry Neville –"

"Don't worry about that, what's happened? Why are half of you practically unconscious?"

"They made us practise curses on each other...but it was relentless this time…they had people go back for another round every twenty minutes or so..." Susan Bones continued the explanation as Padma moved to their makeshift apothecary and started hurriedly rifling around on one of the shelves.

Neville's attention turned to Terry, who'd sat gingerly down on a chair, rested his head in his hands and was looking blankly at the floor. He was paler than Neville had ever seen him, even compared to when he'd been coming down from Somnium Beautus.

"What's wrong, Terry?" Neville asked, taking a seat next to him.

Terry's eyes flicked to Neville, then back at the floor. "They took Alfie, my little brother," he said quietly. "Some younger IS members were giving a couple of half-bloods a hard time, and Alfie stood up to them. He was cheeky apparently – he's always had a sharp tongue. So – so they gave him the Fear... They're chaining them up now, you know? In the dungeons? He was down there for his second night when Michael decided to try and rescue him," Terry shook his head. "I didn't know he was going to do it...afterwards, he said he wanted to make it up to me for messing me around…" Neville had heard of Terry and Michael's on-off relationship, but didn't know the details, and he didn't think this would be a very good time to ask. "He nearly managed it as well – stunned the IS members keeping guard, charmed his way into the cell and freed Alfie...but then they were found, just before they got to Ravenclaw Tower. By fucking Crabbe and Flint, of all people."

Terry shook his head, as if not believing what his memories were telling him. Neville was silent, waiting for him to continue. "The Carrows made an example of him. Had him tied up on this rack thing in the main courtyard. Student after student had to come forward and curse him. Now he's been left there, all day, for students – or teachers – to curse him at will. He wasn't even conscious when I saw him last, just before we came here." Terry buried his face in his hands, clearly indicating he couldn't speak anymore.

"Nev, can you help me with this?" Padma asked. Or rather commanded.

Neville obeyed uncomplainingly. He wanted to do something in that moment, needed to feel useful.

Padma was holding a bottle of blue liquid out to him. "It's a calming draught, mixed with strengthening solution. Go and get Seamus to take some."

Neville did as he was bid, kneeling down next to a half-conscious Seamus and cajoling the boy to take some sips of the potion. After a few moments, a bit of colour came back to the boy's cheeks and he appeared more alert.

Lavender, who's tears had finally subsided, came forward and knelt by Seamus' other side.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she mumbled.

Seamus reached out with a trembling arm and squeezed Lavender's hand with his. "I barely felt anything. I'm fine."

Neville guessed from what they were saying that Lavender had had to hurt Seamus, and more than once, judging by her distress.

"Really?" Lavender asked, a desperate hope in her voice.

"I barely felt a scratch," Seamus said softly, looking intently into her eyes. "You have to really mean it, remember?"

"But – the way you were yelling – it sounded so awful."

"I'm not stupid, am I?" Seamus replied. "I had to pretend."

"Lav?" Padma called from where she was knelt over a feebly stirring Parvati. The Ravenclaw's face was drawn and she was frowning anxiously. "Will you get some more calming draught for me? And maybe take a little yourself?"

Lavender nodded and rose to carry out Padma's request. When she was out of earshot, Neville spoke quietly to Seamus.

"How bad was it really?"

Seamus' lips curled into a rueful smile, which quickly turned into a grimace. "Maybe I felt more than a scratch... She doesn't know her own power, that witch. But it was nowhere near as bad as I know it can hurt. Don't tell her. She did the right thing. If she'd refused we'd all have ended up like Michael."

Neville nodded. "Of course."

An hour or so later, most of the weak and semi-conscious students were either in a restful sleep or more alert, depending on the damage that had been done to them.

"I'm not going back there," Lavender declared over the murmuring of voices. "Into the school. I'm going to stay here. With Neville."

Neville nodded in agreement. "It's probably too dangerous for most of you to return now, surely?"

As he said it, the air seemed to become thinner and shimmered uncannily, as if the fabric of existence was rippling and shifting, before righting itself again. The students looked around them as the walls slid back and the size of the room increased. A balcony formed several feet up around the perimeter of the room and several hammocks materialised, tied between its railings. Finally, there was the sound of rustling above them and they all looked up as three tapestries descended from the ceiling, one each in the rich colours and bold symbols of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses.

"Did you do that, Nev?" Susan Bones asked, her eyes wide in awe.

"Erm...well, I was kind of thinking that we'd all need somewhere to sleep," Neville replied with slight bewilderment, looking around at the hammocks bemusedly.

"I'm going to go back. Into the school," Terry declared. "I can't leave Michael. Or Alfie. I need to make sure they both get in here okay."

The group started talking, debating and deciding who would stay and take refuge in the Room of Requirement and who would return to the school. When people started to wonder how on earth they would get food, Neville explained about Aberforth.

When most of the decisions had been made, Lavender stepped forward towards Neville. She seemed calmer now, although her eyes were still blotchy and red.

"Neville," she began. She took a deep breath and pushed her shoulders back in an apparent effort to compose herself. The chatter of the room quietened as people waited apprehensively for what Lavender was going to say. "I'm going to need somewhere to wash."

Neville smiled, the tension in him and the room seeming to break as he did so. "Okay," and as he spoke, a space in one of the walls shimmered and a door appeared there, a gold plaque nailed to it bearing the words Ladies' bathroom.

"Thanks, Neville," Lavender grinned and eagerly went to investigate the new amenities.

As she did so, Seamus sidled up to Neville, who was sitting with Hannah. "Nev, I'm going to our dorm one last time, to grab some stuff to bring back here. Is there anything you want from it?"

Neville thought, then asked hesitantly, "Could you get me a few changes of clothes? And...in my trunk, right at the bottom, there's a jar of sweet wrappers. Could you bring it to me?"

Seamus looked bemused. "A jar of sweets? Sure. I suppose Aberforth won't be giving us too many of those."

"No, not sweets – they're just – the wrappers," Neville explained awkwardly.

Seamus' frown deepened, but to Neville's relief, he didn't ask any more questions, just gave a short nod. "Sure. A jar of sweet wrappers. Will do."

"Thanks mate."

"Sweet wrappers?" Hannah queried gently, after Seamus had gone to help Lavender rearrange the hammocks.

"Just...something to do with my parents." Neville didn't think he was ready to tell Hannah about his collection of old sweet wrappers in detail. So he just smiled weakly and reached over to squeeze her hand. She stroked her thumb against his knuckles, and didn't push the matter.

After a moment, she said quietly, "I'd like to meet them one day. When all this is over… Your parents. It'd be nice to meet them."

Neville, who had been staring at their clasped hands, looked up at her.

"They won't understand, you know. They won't know who you are."

"I know all that," Hannah reassured, with a warm smile that always reminded Neville of the sun breaking through storm clouds. "But I'd still like to meet them."

There was a delicate silence, until Neville spoke again.

"Okay." The word came out a whisper because, for the first time, he actually felt entirely comfortable about the thought of someone other than his own family visiting his parents in their ward at St Mungo's.


They kept Michael tied up in the courtyard for another day and night. The DA tried to have at least one of their number with him at all times, but he was often guarded by IS members so it was hard for them to be of any real help. Finally, when he'd been unconscious for more than two hours, and was unable to be revived, it seemed that even the Carrows had worried that they'd gone too far. Michael was a pure-blood after all, and they had been ordered not to cause any irrevocable damage to pure-blood children.

He was taken to the hospital wing but only to be swiftly checked by Pomfrey, before the Carrows ordered him to be returned to Ravenclaw Tower. The next night, Terry, Michael and Alfie made their last journey to the Room of Requirement. They would not be returning to the school. Michael was still unwell, however – some of his shattered bones were taking longer than normal to heal, and he suffered from muscle spasms and a chronic headache. He lay in one of the few proper beds that had appeared in the room, tended by Padma and a handful of other students that had a talent for healing.

About two weeks after Neville's flight to the Room of Requirement, as April bled into May, the DA members heard news on Potterwatch which cheered their spirits. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been spotted earlier that day breaking into Gringotts, of all things. No one was sure how true the story was, or why on earth Harry would be trying to rob a bank, but they all hoped that it was true. The news meant that the three of them were alive – not just alive, Neville thought, they were on form enough to thwart the goblins of Gringotts and escape the most heavily guarded building known to magical kind. On a dragon.

As the group talked animatedly about the news they'd just heard, Neville was distracted by a movement from the corner of his eye. He looked around to see Arianna smiling and making 'come hither' gestures at him, just like she had the first time the painting had appeared.

As he approached the portrait, it came away from the wall in its usual way and, well-practiced now, Neville nimbly jumped up into the tunnel and walked hurriedly down the dark passageway, wondering what Aberforth wanted. Maybe he'd had a new stock of food in, or news from the Order? Although, he rarely liaised with them directly. Most of his orders and news came from the portrait of his dead brother.

Finally, Neville reached the end of the tunnel, where Arianna's twin painting swung open, and he couldn't help but cry out in surprise at what he saw.

Because standing in Aberforth's cellar, flanked on either side by Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, was Harry Potter.


Thanks to Racheal and IKEAwhatyoudidthere for your help with this.
Your reviews and thoughts are, as always, cherished and treasured.