Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!

I'm still here, no worries. I do apologize for the long delay. But I completed my Masters (Woo!) and then I started doing some home renovation that was only supposed to last two-ish weeks but ended up taking three months because it was just one thing after another that seemed to be going wrong. And for about a month my computer was tucked away for protection. And then as that was wrapping up, I found out that I got PCS orders, (yay, I'm super excited but very stressed) so I'll be moving in a few months and that has taken a big chunk of my attention trying to get everything prepared and squared away for that and finding housing and all of that. And then the holidays coming up and my whole family is coming in like two days for a Thanksgiving/Christmas thing and my house isn't that large so that will be interesting. So the break wasn't intentional, I promise, but it did siphon off a lot of my focus and writing energy. I haven't even written anything for my own personal novel since everything happened.

Anyway, those are my excuses, I hope you can accept them. I really wanted to get you all something though in time for the holidays. So here you are. It is a short chapter, at least compared to how my recent chapter lengths have been going. And the next chapter is almost completed. I actually had this one and the next one as one big long chapter but that was becoming insanely long. So, I broke it up and now you have the soft, fluffy happier chapter with the longer, darker chapter in a few weeks when I'm fully done with it.

So, thank you all again for sticking with me. As I said, this one is fluffier and focuses on Neville and his parents with a teaser from what Dumbledore is getting up to and the next chapter will be a bit of the fallout from Dumbledore's schemes. So stay tuned! Comments are always enjoyed and during these few months off I reread almost all of the comments to keep myself motivated and engaged to continue this when I had the time. So I do read them and they are very helpful.

Happy Holidays!

Oh, Sugarbear

"Harry," Neville greeted him with a warm hug after being cleaned of the chimney soot by Dobby and Kreacher who stood like sentinels on either side of the fireplace, it wasn't necessarily needed since both Neville and Augusta still held their wands — though both wands would be left in the sitting room before proceeding to the Ritual Room — the two elves had insisted in assisting, saying how it was proper this way. Harry had just left them to it, not feeling like arguing. "Happy New Year."

"Neville, Happy New Year," Harry replied with a weak smile. "Augusta, I hope you're well." Harry reached out to shake her hand as she entered the sitting room of Peverell Manor from the Floo. He hoped she didn't notice how clammy his hands were and he tried to subtly wipe them on the knee-length white shirt he wore after he dropped their hands. All three of them wore a long pure white shirt and nothing else.

"Quite well," Augusta said primely. She didn't bother looking around the sitting room since she had been in it a few times before during the school legislation meetings. Neville, however, was unabashedly looking around the tastefully decorated room.

To Harry, the royal blues and creams paired against the dark walnut furniture were just as comforting as they had been the first time Harry entered the room all those months ago. The rug was still soft and plush beneath his bare feet. The curtains were shut this time though, instead of open to let the light in and showcase the gardens. Given the lateness of the hour, Harry had chosen to shut off the wintery landscape and keep the warmth of the room enclosed. The room looked more lived-in than it had previously. There were papers and books pertaining to writing the legislation for his school left out on tabletops from the previous meeting held just before Christmastime.

"Okay, well, this way," Harry said, leading them out of the sitting room and down the hall towards the Ritual Room that Harry had set up earlier that day. Slowly but surely the house-elves were cleaning up the abandoned manor, whenever they had spare time. Currently, it seemed just the first floor — which held the Ritual Room, the kitchen, the formal and informal dining rooms, the two parlors, the library, and a ballroom — was accessible. The rest of the floors, which held all of the bedrooms and studies, were still covered in dust.

"Are you ready for school, Nev?" Harry asked, in an attempt to steady his nerves. New Years Day had been yesterday and the Hogwarts Express left in two days.

"Yeah, I suppose so. It's still weird without you being there, Harry."

Harry offered a weak smile over his shoulder at the statement before stopping before the door to the Ritual Room. This one was a dark oak compared to the white oak door in Slytherin Manor. Harry turned to face Neville and Augusta, his back pressed against the door — the wood smooth through the thin linen of the shirt he wore — and his hand resting on the doorknob.

Harry's stomach had been in knots all day, and not just because of hunger. Technically, Harry didn't need to fast before contacting the dead, especially not for other people, but given how uncertain he was about tonight...well, he was taking every precaution he could, which included bathing in pomegranate scented everything, and fasting throughout the day. Honestly, Harry wasn't certain he'd have been able to eat even if he'd tried; he was too nervous. He had no idea what condition Frank and Alice Longbottom would be in when he Called on them.

"Alright, you two haven't eaten anything today, yes?" They nodded their heads. "And you bathed in the pomegranate water as I instructed?"

"Yes, Harry. Trust us, we did everything you asked." We weren't going to mess something like this up," Neville said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Honestly, Harry, it's ridiculous to assume we might falter on a step given the opportunity we are presented with. What is a day without food compared to seeing Frank and Alice again?" Augusta asked lightly with a sniff that Harry assured himself wasn't condescending or patronizing and was just an old woman overcome with the emotion of the event.

Harry nodded. "Right."

"Harry," Neville said gently, drawing Harry's attention and softly squeezing his shoulder. His touch was hot and slightly damp. "Don't worry. It will work or it won't, no changing things now. Either way, I won't regret letting you Claim them. It was time, even if I never see them again."

Harry took a shaky breath and nodded his head. Neville was right. No use stressing about it now, there wasn't much that he could change now anyway. Harry took another breath and straightened his shoulders. Time to focus.

"Now, once we go in there you cannot speak. Not until they have been summoned. They will most likely speak first if everything goes right. But no words, no sounds, nothing until either I say or they speak to you. Understand?" They both nodded, looking solemn and a little anxious. Their mouths in the same tight line of pressed lips. "Now, when we get in there there will be four circles, around the center symbol. Two have candles and two don't. Sit in the two circles that don't have a candle. I'll sit in the center symbol. You will sit there and think of the ones you wish to speak with while I do the chanting. All goes well, they appear above the candles in the other circles. I won't be able to hold the connection forever, but I'll try to give you as much time as I can. Ready?"

"We're ready, Harry," Neville said softly, entwining his hand with his Grans.

Harry nodded and took another deep breath. He turned and pushed the door open and held it open for Neville and Augusta to step in before gently closing it behind them. He moved forward and stepped into the center of the Deathly Hallows symbol as he normally did, with the candles placed at each of the triangle points. It was a similar setup from when he called on his parents and Sirius, only now the back two circles would hold Neville and Augusta and the front two would hold Frank and Alice, hopefully of sound mind and coherent if everything worked at least.

Earlier that day Harry had arrived to draw the charcoal circles in the pristine white room, it was surprisingly similar to the room in Slytherin Manor, maybe slightly larger but not by much. He wondered how many old family manors had a Ritual Room. If Potter Manor had one it had been out of use so long that it no longer resembled one so he might have overlooked it and if the Black's had one it wasn't at Grimmauld Place. Luckily Harry hadn't had to draw the charcoal symbols by memory or by guessing the appropriate location as he'd had to do in Slytherin Manor. The room had been used by so many other Necromancers throughout the centuries that even though it had been empty for decades it still retained the faint traces of charcoal lines of years passed etched into the white floors. Harry had felt a strange connection of nostalgic familiarity, a wistful longing, as he traced over the marks of his ancestors. He hoped the remnants of lingering Necromancer magic would aid and boost the events tonight; hopefully, Frank and Alice would appear lucid and coherent.

Before sitting, he glanced over his shoulder to watch Neville and Augusta settle themselves in the two circles at his back. They both nodded to him once they were seated, with their limbs fully encompassed by the circle line. Harry sat as well and ignited the candles marking the tips of his triangle and then the two candles that would hold the deceased Longbottoms with a flick of his hand. Taking a deep breath to center his thoughts and get a grip on his nerves, Harry closed his eyes and unleashed his magic. He sighed as he felt it release and stretch to the corners of the room. He took another breath and began to chant. The words flowed off his tongue like water, reverberating against his bones, and sinking into his very soul. The language of his ancestors, the essence of his heritage.

Harry felt the temperature drop and resisted the urge to shiver at the chill tickling his skin. He kept his eyes closed, putting his entire focus and energy into Calling Frank and Alice Longbottom. Falling silent after the chant, Harry panted lightly praying desperately for it to have worked. He knew his Call had succeeded based on the sensation of a veil slipping over his mind, separating himself from everything. It was similar to when he succumbed to his magic and Claimed people, the distance and dissonance that usually accompanied unleashing his magic was heightened almost tenfold to the point where he felt hollowed out. Harry had become a channel for magic and Death, the connection point for those he Called. So he knew it worked theoretically, however, the terror at what condition those he Called were in had him keeping his eyes closed.

According to the journals, in instances where he acted as the liaison between lost loved ones and their remaining family, the veil acted as a failsafe. He'd never have to fear losing himself as he did when he spoke with his family. The veil was protection, keeping a portion of his magic and his thoughts from slipping away completely. Langston Peverell, the fifth Necromancer and the one before the three brothers, described how his father's, the fourth Necromancer Benedict Peverell, life was threatened by those wishing to speak with their loved ones and that he was demanded to keep the connection open at the risk of his own life. Langston, his siblings, and his mothers' life had all been threatened and so Benedict had died to keep a connection open for the demanding and threatening family. Death intervened then, Langston had written, and installed the Veil of Protection for future Children, so none would be at risk again. There had been a few savagely pleased passages following that statement where Langston described his first Claims in Deaths' name being the entire Farley family, ending that family line completely, in recompense for killing his father and one of Deaths' Blessed.

So Harry focused on the hollow feeling in his chest and pushed as much magic and energy into the Calling that he could. This had to work. It just had to. If it didn't then Neville would never see his parents again and it would be all Harry's fault. Neville had done so much for him and Harry desperately wanted to return the favor in some way, the only way he could.

"Oh, sugarbear," a woman's voice cooed bright and cheerful.

Harry gasped but the sound was drowned out by the choked breath behind him. Harry opened his eyes and saw two figures hovering over the lit candles in the two circles. The woman's face was round and youthful, much like Neville's, her eyes despite being transparent sparkled with laughter, and her smile was wide and beaming. The man resembled Neville, though a bit thinner, and with curlier, darker hair, his smile was just as prominent but much softer.

"Mom?" Neville asked, his voice wet and rough. Harry closed his eyes once again, attempting to give his friend some semblance of privacy. "Dad?"

"Hullo son," Frank Longbottom said, even with his eyes closed, Harry could hear the smile in the man's voice.

"Sugarbear, it is so wonderful to see you again. We've been so proud of everything you've done," Alice said. "You even kept my bubblegum wrappers for me." Harry could hear the smile in her voice.

"Really?" Neville whispered the disbelief in his voice stabbed at Harry who pushed more effort towards his magic, making sure the connection remained strong.

"Really, really," Alice said with a laugh. The laugh was loud and full and infectious. Harry felt the urge to laugh along with her but bit his tongue to keep it in.

"Your mother's right, Nev. We've been so impressed with all that you've done. Hullo, Mum," Frank said, his voice was far calmer and softer than his wifes' but held a confident, authoritative quality.

"Frankie," Augusta said, her voice trembling slightly but for the most part remaining steady. Harry focused on the hollow feeling inside his chest, focused on keeping the connection open. "It's good seeing you."

"You too, mum."

"Well, I'd say it was mutual, but I'm not pleased with how you treated my son," Alice remarked with a haughty sniff.

"Alice, what? I-" Augusta faltered.

"Nope, none of that now. You treated my sugarbear horribly, always comparing him to Frankie. You let that blasted Algie drop him from a window! He is his own person, he is my darling boy, my sugarbear, and he will be even greater than Frankie. Do you not see that greenhouse of his? You just refused to see it."

"Allie dear, she's gotten much better in recent years," Frank said consoling. The tone sounded practiced, as though he'd used it often to reign his wife in.

"Yeah, mum, it's fine, promise. I'm alright," Neville said, rushing to alleviate any worries, sounding very much like his father at that moment. Harry withheld the grin at the comparison he could now make.

Alice sniffed. "Yes, I suppose. Alright, fine." She gave another dramatic sigh and Harry got the feeling that Alice Longbottom enjoyed dramatics. He'd laugh if he wasn't feeling so lightheaded, the hollowness felt like an even larger empty cave in his chest. "I forgive you, Augusta...and it's good to see you again."

"It really is alright, mum," Frank said to Augusta. Harry assumed that the older woman probably hadn't looked convinced. "But we don't have much time left." Harry didn't know what Frank was talking about, he could still keep going.

"What, no!" Neville cried out.

The plea pierced through the veil; Harry swallowed and tried to release even more magic into the connection. The greater the emptiness in his chest grew the heavier he felt. The more magic he pushed the less connected to his thoughts he felt. The veil between himself and his mind grew thicker.

"Now, Neville, your friend is already teetering on the brink," Frank admonished gently. "He just won't admit it, just like his parents. But I just want you to know that we love you so much, and know that we support you. And mum, I hope I made you proud while I lived —"

"So proud," Augusta breathed weakly

"—and remember to let Neville breathe a bit, he's a growing boy."

"Dad," Neville said, his voice tight.

"Sorry, son, a growing man."

"No, that's not—" Neville broke off with a weak chuckle and sniffle but it didn't sound like he had the heart to continue.

"Keep up the work in the greenhouse," Frank continued. "Merlin knows, you're the only one in the family with a green thumb. You'll make a fine Herbologist someday, the best the world has ever seen. Name a new discovery after me and your mum, eh?" Harry could feel the pride radiating off of the spirit mixed in with the gentle teasing and the wholehearted compliments. He could imagine his friend turning red at the praise.

"I will," Neville promised.

"I love you, son."

"I love you too."

"I love you too, mum," Frank said to Augusta.

"Oh Frankie," Augusta whispered.

"Dad!" Neville's shout accompanied a lessening of pressure in Harry's chest. Distantly he guessed that Frank had disappeared but his head felt dizzy, he wrestled with his magic and his thoughts to keep Alice remaining. The veil grew thicker and heavier, an almost solid barrier blocking him from the present moment.

"Sugarbear, it's time to go," Alice said, her voice full of sorrow but making the attempt to sound chipper. "Don't forget to keep up with your studies. I know you're helping lead a revolution but school is still important and you are so smart. Oh, oh, and say hello to that girl of yours for us. I quite like her, a real keeper she is. Don't forget, carry a pack of Drooble's with you, you never know when you might need some gum to chew on. Oh! And be sweet to your Gran, and mind what she says." Alice's words were coming out in a rush now, as though she was trying to fit every piece of motherly advice she could into her last remaining moments. "Oh, sugarbear, I love you so much. Never forget that, Neville. I love you."

"Mom," Neville breathed wetly as the last remaining weight lifted from Harry's chest. "I love you." The whispered words hung in the air as the chill started to lessen.

Harry swayed at the disconnection, his magic still reaching out trying to grab onto the spirits of Frank and Alice Longbottom. With each reach of his magic, Harry met emptiness; so he reached further and further. The damn veil was getting in the way, if he could push it aside and reach the rest of his magic he was certain he could reopen the connection and bring Frank and Alice back for just a bit longer.

"Harry!" A voice shouted but it was so distant. He didn't listen. He had to keep the connection open. He had to let Neville and Augusta talk to Frank and Alice. He had to give them this. "Harry!"

He felt like he was floating, disconnected from reality as he stretched his magic farther and farther. "Harry!" Something hit him in the head. The hit to the head was sudden and surprising but was nothing compared to the sharp pain that pierced his chest. It felt as though the hollowness in his chest had been roughly yanked closed with sharp-clawed fingers. Crying out at the pain, Harry opened his eyes, his hands clutching at his chest. The two charcoal circles that had once held Frank and Alice were empty, the candle flames in the center of both circles fluttering weakly. "Harry!" Two voices shouted at him, much clearer this time. The veil was disintegrating and his thoughts were flowing more freely, but there were some remnants still clinging to the edges of his mind.

Twisting to look over his shoulder, his body moving sluggishly and his limbs heavy, Harry saw Neville's panicked face. Vision blurry Harry couldn't see Augusta very well, so he worked on focusing on Neville with his red cheeks highlighted with tears. Luckily the pain in his chest was fading and he could breathe easier. The candle in front of Neville was missing.

"Harry, you good?" Head still fuzzy, Harry nodded slowly. "Oh thank Merlin," Neville said with a sigh, slouching slightly in his charcoal circle, his head falling into his hands. Harry blinked again and twisted to face the front and spotted a candlestick lying innocently just within his circle perimeter.

"Did you throw a candle at me?" Harry asked, his mouth felt thick and his tongue heavy.

"You weren't responding, sorry, mate. I got desperate."

Harry just gave a jerky nod and focused on bringing his magic back under control. It was hard but manageable. Especially since a portion of it had been tucked away, to begin with. He wondered at the pain he'd felt as the connection closed, could it be that the candle moving between circles, breaking the charcoal lines, had disrupted the ritual even as it ended? Could that be where the pain came from? The thought hovered weakly at the forefront of his mind before dissolving into nothing as his exhaustion swept it aside.

"Right. Let's go," Harry said thickly, struggling to push himself to his feet. Limbs numb and shaky, he stumbled and would have fallen completely if Neville hadn't caught him. Last time, when he'd Called his parents, Harry remembered remaining in his Death Hallows symbol on his hands and knees for some time after the ritual ended and then making slow progress towards where Marvolo had waited. Had his limbs been numb then too? He couldn't remember.

"Careful, Harry. Come on." Neville wrapped an arm around his waist and threw Harry's arm over his shoulder, and helped guide him out of the Ritual Room. "Thank you, Harry," Neville said quietly, his mouth right above Harry's ear. "I'll never be able to tell you just how much this meant to me. But thank you."

Harry nodded his head. At least, he thought he did. Merlin, he was tired. Were his legs moving? He needed to walk. He needed to get to his bed. Yawning, he stretched and shook his head. Some more coherent thought filtered back but the veil's dissonance seemed to be exceedingly difficult to shake off completely.

"Thank you," Augusta said softly, taking hold of Harry's hand once they were in the hallway. "Thank you."

Harry nodded his head again, having no idea what to actually say. Slowly the feeling returned to his legs and feeling steadier, Harry took a step back from Neville and though he swayed slightly, he remained upright. "I'm glad I was able to help you both and help you find peace," he finally said. "Now, let's get you both home."

Neville and Augusta nodded and followed Harry as he led them back to the parlor room they'd entered earlier that evening. Harry stopped in front of the Floo and hugged Neville once more and shook Augusta's hand, accepting their thanks once again, before watching them disappear into the Floo's green flames.

He debated just calling Dobby or Tobi to take him directly to his bed and save himself the unpleasantness of Flooing while tired but he knew Marvolo would be waiting up for him in his office and house-elves were warded against just popping into the office. Harry bet Marvolo's bedroom was warded the same way, the paranoid git. So sighing, he grabbed a handful of the Floo powder, tossed it into the fire, yawned, then hissed out Marvolo's office Floo address.

The cold, January night air caused a shiver up the spine despite numerous warming charms. This really wasn't how he'd wished to ring in the New Year, but needs must...Albus tilted his head slightly at the sound of a peg leg coming up behind him, but kept his focus on the row of neat, orderly houses in front of him. So plain, nondescript, boring...so very muggle. He hadn't been to this street in fifteen years.

"Hate working with that lot," Alastor Moody grumbled from next to him.

"As do I, Alastor," Albus agreed. "However unfortunate, the unpleasant does become necessary for the greater good."

Alastor snarled under his breath, "Damn blasted demon, ruining everything." His one good eye firmly fixed on the dark-cloaked group standing a few yards to the left of them. His false eye had never been returned and Albus no longer had the necessary contacts with the Auror Department to steal it back for his good friend.

"This the place?" A voice asked from the dark-cloaked group, the voice muffled behind the mask.

"Yes," Albus replied sadly and watched as the small group of seven started casting spells. The row of houses caught fire shortly after.

The panicked screams and cries of pain began moments later mingling with the sound of shattered glass and roaring flames. The seven cloaked figures laughed at the noise and cast more spells with a delighted glee that had Albus shivering in distaste.

It really was unfortunate. He'd never wished for something like this to occur. The loss of life was never something he could tolerate. Alastor said it was just his weak stomach, but Albus would suffer through it tonight. Watching the massacre would be his penance. But it was necessary. The Wizarding World was getting out of hand, all of his carefully crafted plans that had been decades in the making were crumbling, and Harry Potter needed to be brought to heel somehow.

Almost thirty minutes later, Albus remained standing on the street with the buildings crumbling around him. And he mourned. He mourned for the loss of life, mourned the loss of the child Harry had once been before the Dark corrupted him, mourned not doing better to guide the poor, helpless boy in his younger years. Albus Dumbledore mourned much that night as the devastated screams died and the muggle street fell silent.

"Now?" the lead dark cloaked figure asked.

Albus merely nodded, his lips pursed in distaste. He chose not to speak to any of them more than needed and the past few days of correspondence had been plenty. It was so disappointing how such an acclaimed leader of the Light such as he, had to stoop so low as to request the help of such lowlifes. But as a leader, it was imperative that he shoulder the burden so others in the Light didn't have to. Besides, after tonight this group would hopefully all be dead for their disobedience and Albus would never need to spend a thought on them again.

The cloaked figure walked closer to the first muggle house that had been set alight and shouted, "Morsmorde!"