Chapter Seventeen – Kidnap the Traitor

"You don't know how it makes me feel to see my two most loyal subjects return to me after all these years," Voldemort said, smiling at the bowing Death Eaters. "I trust the escape went well?"

"Excellent, My lord," Shawn answered, smiling at him as he stood. "Nothing went wrong."

Voldemort sat in his chair and rubbed his cloak smooth. "Good…good."

Madelyn stood. "My lord, we wish to do whatever possible to help out with your cause. We are anxious to get back to our work."

"I am thankful for that, Maddie, and I actually have a task for you two."

"Anything, sir," Shawn said, his chest rising with pride.

"We have been unsuccessful at capturing the Potter boy. But we have found that he has learned to trust his Gryffindor friends to a great extent. Therefore, we want to pull one of his feeble friends onto our side.

"We have chosen the culprit, and I know you two are perfect for this task."

Shawn and Maddie glanced at each other, and looked back at Voldemort. "Who, My lord?" asked Shawn.

"Neville Longbottom."

The two prisoners beamed, and in unison replied "Yes, sir," before turning and proceeding with the task.

^*^*^

"Amazing, Harry! Absolutely stunning!" Ron said, climbing into his bed. "Three-hundred-forty-two to six…I bet Malfoy is crying in his pillow right now."

Dean nodded. "It was unbelievable, Harry. A six-hour game! Everyone suspected that someone had hidden the Snitch in order to get out of the Potions test. Snape was furious we missed it."

Harry laughed. "I'm so happy we missed it. Does he really think I know how to properly slit a cow rectum?"

Everyone laughed.

Neville yawned. "Well, I'm going to bed. I don't think I can handle anymore excitement for the day."

One by one, each occupant of the room fell into a sweet dream sleep.

He was careful entering the room, not allowing any of the boys to stir. He was careful of how to get in: borrowing Mr. Crabbe's invisibility cloak was quite helpful, and it was easy following the boys into the room. They were too excited about the recent Quidditch match to get the feeling of being followed.

He was slightly surprised, seeing Neville Longbottom. Not at all like his father. Frank had been tall, muscular, and handsome. Neville was heavier, not nearly as good-looking, and quite a klutz. He doubted that girls loved and admired Neville, like they had Frank so many years ago. He also highly doubted from the way he was practicing his Defense of the Dark Arts, that Neville was any good at school.

On the plus side, he could tell Neville was persuadable. A tall red-Headed boy had offered some kind of candy to Neville, and though Neville refused to take it, he was willing to eat it after the boy assured him it was harmless. To Neville's dismay, it ended up turning him into a headless chicken.

Just a little closer, he crept to Neville's bed. Just a bit closer….there. He was there, Neville sleeping loudly in front of him. He pulled out his wand, whispered, Peso leggero!, allowing Neville to be a lighter weight, Silenzioso!, to ensure Neville didn't hear him. He threw the large cloak over both of them, and hurried out the room.

^*^*^

Neville shifted on the bed, yawning as he did so. A shiver ran down his body, and he reached out for some blankets, only to find they were missing. He opened his eyes, and found he was not in the familiar Gryffindor room, but in a strange dungeon place, placed upon a single mattress. He shrugged and pinched himself, believing it all the time to be a dream. To his horror, he did not wake up in a normal bed, but stayed right were he was.

"Ah, Neville. You are awake."

He quickly turned around, facing the bars which kept him in his prison. A man, tall, rugged holding a torch for light. He smiled at Neville, though coldly, and continued, "My master wishes to see you. If you'll follow me…"

Neville didn't move, despite the fact that the man had opened the bar door, and was beckoning for Neville to come out.

"Do not be scared, he wishes you no harm. He merely wants to talk."

Standing, Neville nodded and followed, though reluctantly. He stayed close to the man, considering he had the only source of light in the dark hallways. He considered for a fleeting moment to run, but considering this place was new, he wouldn't know where do go.

After climbing a few stairs, he entered a lit room, but the light was dim. Hundreds of people were mingling around the room, paying little attention to him. He man who was leading Neville brought him to the left side of the room, where a sinister man sat waiting.

"Voldemort!" Neville cried, his body shaking. "N-No!"

The man smiled. "I told you, Mr. Longbottom, he means you no harm! He would just like to talk business…."

Neville continued to follow, too afraid to do anything but obey orders. As he neared Voldemort, Voldemort stood and smiled. "Mr. Longbottom! Welcome, welcome!"

The man stopped Neville's walking, and motioned for him to stand there.

"Ah, thank you Mr. Goyle. You are excused." The man walked away, and he turned to Neville. "I hope your stay has been welcoming? Would you like anything to drink, or…" he took notice of the round tummy. "Eat?"

Neville didn't answer, but just started with wide eyes to the floor.

"Understandable, Mr. Longbottom!" Voldemort laughed, walked towards the frightened boy. "But please, be comfortable. I'm not going to hurt you. You have my word. And Voldemort is a man of his word!"

A sudden reaction from Neville: "Why should I trust you?!"

Voldemort jumped slightly, surprised by the boy's sudden vocalization. "Why, because, I need to ask a favor of you." He turned to a chubby man. "Wormtail! A chair for this good man! Don't want him standing all day, now do we?"

Wormtail ran and stole a chair from another Death Eater, and put it next to Neville. Neville sat stiffly in the chair.

Voldemort conjured himself a chair, and sat down with Neville. "Boy, I have a request."

"I don't have to do anything for you," said the surprisingly brave Neville. "You hurt my parents."

Voldemort stared sadly at him. "Oh, Neville. I suppose your grandmother told you that?" After a nod from Neville, Voldemort shook his own head. "No, no. You see, some of my men did that. I did not give them orders to hurt your parents. I was as shocked as everyone else was when word came out that they were…well…sick. I honestly did nothing to promote their attack. In fact, I am willing to help your parents, if you do something for me."

After a few moments of consideration, Neville asked, "What do you want?"

A smile appeared on Voldemort's ugly face, and he smiled. "Get me Potter."

Neville blinked. "Harry? No! Harry's my friend! I'd never hurt him."

"Oh, Neville. You disappoint me!"

"Let me go, I don't want anything to do with this." Neville jumped up and started to walk out.

Voldemort stood and shouted. "Neville, I don't think you realize what you are turning down! I could save your parents from the clutch of insanity!"

Neville stopped walking. "What?"

Voldemort grinned. "You could talk to your parents, Neville. I know they were innocent of whatever they were accused of. My men were wrong for hurting them. But Neville, recovery is possible."

Neville fell back into the chair. "You can help them?"

"Of course. I am the greatest wizard of all time. Dumbledore would never help them."

Moments, then minutes, and hours seemed to pass. Finally Neville asked, "You promise you'll help them?"

"Yes, Neville. You have my word."

"Then what must I do?"