"I don't know what else I can do." Inside the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey was trying her best to bring Harry back, and while his physical wounds were healing, he still wasn't responding. "This is beyond what I can deal with. It's almost as if he doesn't want to recover."

Snape, who hadn't left Harry's side, despite many threats, let out a sarcastic-sounding chuckle. "I think I can safely say, Poppy, that if the young man tried to kill himself, then recovery wasn't foremost on his mind." He looked down at the pale figure. "Still...being unable to do anything...if only Black hadn't died...never thought I'd be wanting that man around, but...."

"Well, he needs something that neither of us can provide, that's for certain. I wish I knew what, though."

"Isn't it obvious?" Absently, Snape picked up one of Harry's hands, held it between his own. "Have you been paying attention that what's going on in this school? The majority of the student body has reviled the poor boy as the worst sort of traitor. Even Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have turned from him. I can't imagine that is a good atmosphere for him."

"You know I try to stay away from these things, Severus. I heal, not fight. But, knowing this, I do not think that my original idea of asking Ron and Hermione to come down is a good one."

"No, it is not. Perhaps Remus Lupin? I recall the two becoming close, and with the...relationship...he shared with Black, it might help in that respect as well."

"Not possible. Remus...well, he didn't take Sirius' death well. I believe he's still at St. Mungo's."

"Damn." Snape thought for a minute and frowned. "Poppy...it seems that what Harry feared has happened. He's alone, right now."

"No, he's not."

Madam Pomfrey looked up at the new voice. "Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Malfoy, you know better than to be in here right now." She ignored for the moment the fact that two students from rival houses seemed to be in each other's company peacefully.

Neville ignored the mediwitch and guided Draco to Harry's bedside. He looked down at the pale, drawn face of his friend-'former friend,' his mind whispered. "So it's true, what Draco was saying," he whispered.

"And what would that be, Mr. Longbottom?" Snape asked, standing and drawing himself back into his formidable pose. For once, though, Neville didn't even react.

"That Harry tried to kill himself. That we were to blame." Neville's face was streaked with tears now. "Draco became hysterical-wouldn't let anyone bring him back to his dorm. I thought that...maybe if he saw Harry...but he's not fine."

Snape didn't know if Neville was referring to Harry or Draco. The phrase seemed to apply equally to them both, he mused, looking at Draco's glazed expression and swaying form. "For Merlin's sake, Mr. Longbottom, put Draco in that chair before both of you end up collapsing."

Neville complied, then looked up at Snape. "Professor? Is there anything I can do? I...I want to help." He looked down at Harry. "I never wanted to treat him like that...but it wasn't safe to do otherwise."

Snape almost snapped at the boy, then thought better of it. "Rumors are doubtlessly already beginning to spread, Mr. Longbottom. Rumors that will end up doing much more harm than anything else." He drew out his wand and murmured a spell. "Go to dinner and present this." He handed Neville an opalescent ball that had appeared.

"But...that's...you want me to project your memories?" Neville looked shocked.

"Not all of them, you twit!" Snape was rapidly reaching the end of his near-nonexistent rope. "These are specifically the memories of what I saw when Draco and I went to retrieve Harry. They need to know just what they're doing."

"Yes, sir." Neville turned to leave, then paused. "What about Draco?"

"He will be fine here." Snape sighed. "I doubt that we could convince him to go anywhere else, actually."

Neville left, and Snape sat back down, watching as Draco took a hold of one of Harry's hands. Madam Pomfrey watched the scene. "Do you think that was a good idea, Severus?"

"I don't know, Poppy." He looked at Harry, willing the boy to do more than just breathe. "But it may be the only thing I can do."

**********

Neville paused outside the Great Hall, the importance of the task he had been given hitting him full-force. For a moment, the urge to turn and run far away was very tempting. However, Neville forced the desire away. 'I've never been brave, not really,' he thought. 'So often, I've done nothing, instead of doing what I knew was right. Not this time. This time I'm doing what I believe in.'

Taking a deep breath, Neville walked into the great Hall and past the Gryffindor table, much to the confusion of his housemates. He continued, undaunted, until he had reached the main table.

Dumbledore looked at Neville kindly. "Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Yes, yes there is." 'Breathe, Neville. You can do this.' "Professor Snape asked me to show something to the student body. It's important."

"Then, by all means." Dumbledore signaled for silence, and in a moment, all eyes were upon Neville.

Strangely, though, Neville wasn't scared anymore. He met his audience with a quiet courage. He paused for a moment, considering his words, then began to speak. "I have something for all of you, from Professor Snape. A message, if you will. If I could have your attention." All eyes were fixed upon him.

Neville uttered the words to activate the spell, and found himself whisked into what Snape had seen. Having seen Harry not ten minutes ago in the hospital wing, looking three-quarters dead, Neville had thought that he was better prepared for what the memory had to offer.

He was wrong. He could *feel* what Snape had felt-and right now, it was the waves of pain and self-hatred that Harry had been radiating. 'And it was his supposed friends that did this to him. No more. It stops now.'

The memory eventually ended, with Snape, Harry, and Draco leaving the graveyard. Neville looked out onto the stunned student body. "There could have been more, you know. Professor Snape was there while Madam Pomfrey was trying to save Harry-he could've had me show you that. Or maybe you could've seen my memory, of how Harry looks laying there, due to a knife that was guided, not by his hand alone, but by yours and mine as well. Maybe Harry's memories could've been shown to you, every single bit of the pain that we *all* have put onto him that drove him to this. Harry Potter saved all of us-and this is the thanks we have given him.

"I was never more ashamed of myself than when I realized just what my *silence* was doing to Harry. Maybe, if one of his friends had spoken for him, supported him, it would've helped. But I went along with the majority, and right now, I'm kicking myself while Harry pays the price. I have never been ashamed of being a Hogwarts student-there was never any reason to. But now...I feel like a worse criminal than Voldemort, knowing what I-what *we* have done."

Neville paused for breath, looking at the still-stunned and now abashed student body. "And I hope you feel that way as well." He turned and ran from the silent Hall.

After a few minutes, Dumbledore stood and spoke into the silence, "I owe a great debt to Mr. Longbottom, for showing you a truth that should've been shown to you before-that you should not have needed to be shown at all." His eye feel on every student in the room, it seemed. "One hundred points for Neville Longbottom, for having the courage to speak up when no one else would have."

It was a long time before anyone stirred.