Hermione smiled at them as they entered the kitchen. "Well? How did you do?"

"We didn't open them yet."

"You didn't?" Hermione gaped at Harry, as if wondering how he could possibly have restrained himself.

Harry shrugged. "We thought we could all do it together. For moral support. Though I guess you don't need it. Let me guess how you must have done."

She flushed and rolled her eyes. "I didn't do perfectly, I'll have you know."

He made a face. "Depends on what you mean by perfect. You didn't fail anything, did you?"

"Well. No. Of course not. But…"

"Of course not," Harry repeated with a side glance at Neville.

Neville smiled, fingering his own parchment nervously.

"Those of us who aren't brilliant will open ours together." Harry sat down, breaking the seal on the parchment and unrolling it.

Neville copied the gesture, sitting heavily down across from him.

Hermione stood the silence for about ten seconds. "Well?"

Harry stretched his parchment across to her. "I passed most of it, anyway."

"You failed something? Oh, Harry, what…" She scanned the scroll, then made a face. "Oh. Divination. You failed Divination?"

"Probably everyone who took it failed. We didn't have Trelawney grading the OWLs, remember. We had someone who actually knew something about the subject."

She sighed. "I'm more glad than ever I dropped that class. Oh, but Harry! You got a lot of Outstandings! Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Magical Creatures, Transfigurations! That's wonderful! And an E in Potions! Snape will be so disappointed!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah. He'll actually have to teach me next year."

"Me as well." Hermione grinned.

There was a pause, and two pairs of eyes turned to Neville.

He sat there looking at his scroll, his face unreadable.

Harry nudged him with his foot under the table. "Neville? How did you do?"

Neville looked up, his eyes round. "I…I got an E in Potions too."

Hermione squealed happily.

Harry grinned. "Brilliant! You can take the class with us! Oh, to see Snape's face when he realizes!"

Neville smiled, looking as if he was in shock. "I passed almost everything."

"Aha! Failed Divination, didn't you?" Harry said in triumph.

Neville grinned. "No, actually. I got an A."

Hermione laughed.

"I got a D in Astronomy, though. And then As in most everything else."

"An O in Herbology, of course," Hermione guessed.

He nodded with a smile. "And Care of Magical Creatures. I'll have to thank Hagrid."

"Me as well." Harry sighed happily. "Well, Hermione? Show us yours. Let's see all your Os in a pretty little row."

She grabbed her parchment from the counter. "I told you they aren't all Os. I got Es as well."

"You must be devastated." Harry took the parchment, but a sudden thought hit him, hard. A face that wasn't there celebrating with them.

He frowned instantly. "Did Ron's come as well?"

The light spirit around the table vanished. Neville dropped his parchment, looking instantly pale and guilty, as if upset he had smiled while Ron was still missing.

Hermione nodded. "Mrs. Weasley took it."

Silence fell.

Harry awkwardly rolled his parchment up, his eyes going distant.

Neville stood and left the kitchen, leaving his parchment behind probably without thinking.

***

LeStrange jumped back in surprise, hands wiping the bluish liquid off her face. Shock filled her eyes as she gaped at Ron.

Ron scrambled awkwardly to his feet, holding the bottle. There were still a few drops in there. He ducked his head and lifted his hand as far as he could, and managed to grasp the mouth of the bottle with his teeth. He tilted his head back and felt the few drops slide into his throat.

He opened his mouth and let the bottle fall, fierce defiance running through him as he glared at her.

She looked confused, then lifted her wand and pointed it. Her mouth moved, and he could see the word she tried to speak easily – she'd said it enough the past few days. Crucio.

But no sound came out, and Ron grinned in triumph. He would have to remember to thank Fred and George for making a potion that worked on contact, not just by being swallowed.

LeStrange raised a hand to her throat in shock, moving her mouth furiously. She looked just like that painting of Mrs. Black, Ron saw with amusement.

He let his arm drop and stood there, victorious. Neither of them could talk now. Not for twenty four hours. Dumbledore had a full day to find him, and there was no way she could question him, or curse him.

Her mouth shut after a moment, and her eyes came up and pierced Ron.

He stepped back despite his victory – there was murder in those eyes.

She moved towards him, first lifting her wand and then grimacing and throwing it aside.

Ron backed up until he hit the wall. He was helpless, numb and aching and still tied tightly. Plus, she was mad. She kept coming, her hands raised towards his throat.

He moved suddenly, using the wall to launch himself out and at her, shoulder forward as if he were a Chaser about to strike a bludger out of play.

He hit her hard and lost his balance, tumbling face-first to the ground. He automatically rolled onto his back, feet scrambling to get him away from her.

She was doubled over, hands on her ribs where his shoulder had caught her. Her mouth was moving, and if she had still had her voice she would be cursing up a storm, Ron had no doubt.

He pushed himself back until his head hit the wall, and he waited, glaring and petrified.

Her head lifted, her eyes locked on him. She straightened slowly, rubbing at her ribs. Time seemed to slow down. Ron just knew that she was going to hurt him. But it was worth it. He wasn't going to answer her questions and put anyone into danger.

She looked around the room, moving frighteningly slow, until she spotted her wand.

He cursed to himself – should have grabbed it. Not that he could have done anything with it. Maybe snapped it in half. That would serve the mad cow right.

She grasped the wand and turned to stare at him.

He braced himself.

She vanished.

***

There was silence in the Black living room for most of the afternoon.

Hermione sat folding and unfolding her OWLs parchment. Neville could tell she felt conflicted. She was proud of herself, as she should be, but it felt wrong to be celebrating anything right now.

Neville sat on his own, looking to the door in hope and fear. It had been days since Dumbledore had sent the agreement to LeStrange to trade Neville for Ron.

Strange how abrupt it seemed to get what he was waiting for so suddenly late that afternoon. The front door he was watching swung open and Dumbledore strode into the house followed by Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody.

Neville sat up in instant alarm. "Professor—"

"Neville. We need to have a word with you."

Harry, Hermione and Ginny spoke at once.

"Sir, did something happen?"

"What's going on?"

"It's about Ron. Tell all of us what's—"

Dumbledore held up a hand, smiling kindly. "Please, please. We've had no news about young Ronald, I'm sorry to say."

"You mean LeStrange hasn't even sent another message?" Harry sounded alarmed.

"We haven't heard back from our last message to her, no."

"What's going on then?" Ginny demanded.

It was Moody who answered, his voice sharp. "Dumbledore said he wanted to talk to Longbottom, so that's what's going on. Now kindly leave us to it."

Three pairs of eyes now glared daggers at Moody.

Neville stood up nervously. "We can go to the kitchen. Sir."

Dumbledore moved forward instantly. He clapped Neville on the shoulder and steered him. "Right you are. Children, please give us a few minutes. We won't leave you in the dark for long."

Neville was led into the kitchen without seeing their reactions. Moody followed them in. Lupin must have stayed out there with Harry and the girls.

Neville faced Dumbledore in fear the moment the door was shut. "What's happening?"

Dumbledore was looking around the kitchen, surprised no doubt to see the dirty dishes and messy attempts the kids had made making their own lunch. "Wherever is Molly?"

Neville frowned. "She hasn't come out of her room much lately."

"Ah. I must go speak to her before we leave. Poor woman doesn't need strain like this."

Neville grimaced. Nobody needed strain like this, he replied silently.

Dumbledore turned back to him. "Neville. We have worked out a bit of a plan."

Neville's eyes grew wide. "You need me to do something?"

"Understand, young man, this isn't the sort of thing you need to agree on lightly. There is some danger involved with what we'll be asking from you. You need to—"

Neville cut Moody off fast. "I'll do it."

Moody pursed his lips in disapproval. "Longbottom."

"I don't care how dangerous it is. I don't care what might happen. If it will get Ron back, I'll do it." Neville met Dumbledore's eyes steadily. "Let me do it, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very well. That was easier to settle than I'd feared. Now, let's go and have a talk with your friends out there, shall we?"

***

After the adrenaline of the fight he'd had with LeStrange, the boredom of the hours that followed it seemed surreal.

Ron dozed off at first, confident at least that whenever she came back she wouldn't be able to wake him with a crucio, like all the other times.

But sleep was still hard to come by. He had made LeStrange furious, and that couldn't be good. Now whenever she got back she was going to be vile. Time passed slowly, as it had since he had been shut into that horrid room with no doors or windows or anything. It was quiet and lonely, and he couldn't even listen to the sound of his own voice to break the monotony.

He really, really hoped Dumbledore was looking for him.

When LeStrange finally returned, Ron was ready for anything. At least he told himself he was.

Of course, the one thing he wasn't ready for was the one thing that actually happened.

Someone apparated in behind her.

Someone with piercing silver eyes and long, white blond hair. Someone who was supposed to be locked in Azkaban.

Someone who seemed very glad to see Ron there. Who smiled in recognition, as if he'd just been given the best birthday present ever. "Well, well, well," a cold voice drawled.

If Ron had his voice, he would have groaned. Things had just gone from really, really bad to much, much worse.

"Mr. Weasley. How very nice to see you again."

He snorted silently. Nice. Sure.

Lucius Malfoy glanced at LeStrange. "I'll ask no questions about why he's here, or how he cursed you. Whatever you've been doing behind our Lord's back is your own affair. And the gift you've just given is worth more than your life."

LeStrange got a weird look on her face, and it turned to a glare as Malfoy turned back to Ron.

"Your father must be frantic about you, boy. How long have you been here? I'm afraid Bellatrix hasn't been very vocal."

Ron smirked and stared at him silently.

Malfoy's face clouded. He lifted his wand and flicked it without a word.

Ron winced reflexively, even before the curse hit. It wasn't crucio – it knit his stomach into a tight, burning knot that seared him and then was gone.

"Answer, boy."

Ron opened his mouth and moved his lips silently to clue Malfoy in.

Malfoy sneered. "I see. Cursed yourself as well, did you? Just like a Weasley. Not even competent in basic silencing spells."

Ron glared, but he was used to Malfoys being derisive – he was able to hold his temper in check. Which was good, considering just how much trouble he was already in.

But something was happening inside him. Maybe it was the long days and nights of being trapped in that boring cell of a room. Maybe it was all the crucios he'd been put under. Maybe it was dealing with LeStrange, being fed and laughed at, pissing on himself because he was bound and could do nothing else, and relying on her to clean him up. It was humiliating and frightening, and he was getting sick to death of it.

He was scared for Neville, scared for himself. Scared of so many things that it was starting to be hard for him to even feel the fear.

He just didn't care anymore. He wanted to be home with his mum, with his family, with Neville. And until that happened, he was fed up with having to care so much. No more fear. No more worrying. He was too exhausted. Too full, as if there was so much emotion inside of him that it all compressed and he became numb to it.

He faced Lucius Malfoy with his chin up and his chest out. He was a prisoner – just a skinny, tall, stupid Weasley tied in magical ropes and silenced thanks to a joke potion. But he wasn't going to be cowed anymore by these loonies who were so thick they'd grabbed him when they wanted Neville.

He wasn't scared anymore, even though Malfoy had a functioning wand and full use of his voice, and was more than capable of putting him through worse than LeStrange had. Even then, he wasn't scared.

He smiled to himself. Knowing but not caring that it would anger Malfoy, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He saw Neville in his mind, and his smile grew wide.

***

Neville knocked on the door lightly. "Mrs. Weasley?"

It opened after a moment, revealing Mrs. Weasley's tired face. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she smiled faintly and let him in. "Neville. Dumbledore has told me he plans to rescue Ron."

Neville nodded. "It's a bit dangerous, he says, and since we aren't sure how LeStrange will want to trade him, it'll be mostly unplanned. But he'll have the best aurors, and he'll be there himself."

She smiled and reached out, smoothing his hair with fondness in her eyes. As if he were another of her sons. "Dumbledore also tells me that you're willing to put yourself in harm's way."

Neville nodded, his throat tightening at her gentle, motherly touch. Was that what it felt like to… He shook his head to clear it. "I'll do anything."

"You're a good friend to Ron," she replied.

He hesitated. Ron was going to tell her about them, but not until later. It wouldn't be right to tell her without him there. Now wasn't the best time, anyway. Was it?

She went on talking before he could decide. "He's been much happier since you arrived. I'm not sure what sort of mother you must think I am, with all those things at Hogwarts going on and me not even realizing. But I do care about my son more than anyone could know. I see that he's unhappy. I didn't see how much, but…Ron unfortunately is more like me than his father. He hides himself, and he does it well considering how awful a liar he is."

Neville smiled at that. "Yeah. He does. I wish he didn't, but…"

"But he's been better, and it's because you were there. That surprised me. I didn't know you two were very close at all."

"We weren't," Neville replied somewhat wryly. "Not until this summer. We were friends, of course, but he was always off with Harry. They never had time for anyone else, really."

"Harry." Her smile faded. "Ron cares about Harry deeply. So much that I'm still surprised by it."

"He's very loyal." Neville smiled to himself. It was one of the things he loved most about Ron; knowing that once he was in Ron's heart, Ron would do anything for him. Because he did care deeply, and he was quick to jump in front of his friends and shield them from anything.

Mrs. Weasley regarded him thoughtfully. "You like him. As more than a friend."

His heart jumped with surprise. He flushed instantly, looking down at his hands. "I…"

"Does he know?" Her voice was quiet.

Neville swallowed. His hands were trembling, he saw. He didn't know how to answer.

Mrs. Weasley turned away, mercifully, and went to the chest of drawers against the wall. There were knick knacks cluttered on every available surface in the room, and the chest was no different. She reached out and lifted a framed picture and stood looking down at it. "Does he feel the same?"

"He…" Neville took a deep breath and said a quick, desperate prayer. "Yes," he said after a moment. "He does."

She tensed and turned to face him. The picture stayed in her hands, but her eyes were locked on him. "Just this summer, though. That's when it started."

He nodded, wishing desperately for her to react well.

She moved slowly to him, and held the picture out silently.

He took it with still-shaking hands. Looking at it meant not facing those unreadable eyes of hers, so he was grateful.

The moment he saw the picture his worry abated and he smiled despite himself.

Ron had been a beautiful child. He was probably two or three in the picture, and his face was lit up like a sun. His hair was thinner, wispy, still bright red. His eyes looked round and enormous. His mouth was split into a wide, innocent, sunny grin. He was holding some strange bird with feathers – a chicken, maybe; Neville had never seen one away from a dinner table. The bird was almost as big as he was, but he was clasping it close to him.

As Neville watched, the boy in the picture laughed and held the struggling bird. His eyes shone brightly, his face already dotted with freckles but not as many as he now had.

He was absolutely beautiful. He looked like the sort of child that never frowned or cried.

Mrs. Weasley spoke softly. "He was like that since he was born. Always laughing. Always fascinated by everything."

Neville laughed quietly as the bird finally got free of the arms holding it. Ron's smile never wavered. He watched it flap its feathers as it scurried away out of frame, and he laughed in delight and got to his feet to follow.

Ron. God. Neville wanted Ron back with him so badly it hurt him. Moody had been stupid to think he wouldn't go along with a plan because it was dangerous.

Neville would do anything for Ron. Anything at all.

When the picture was taken from him he folded his arms around himself, feeling sort of cold and lonely.

"As time passed he lost that, though, and I never knew why." Mrs. Weasley smiled at the picture, love in her eyes, before replacing it on the drawers. "I think it was a lot of things. Seeing other families and realizing how little we really had. Realizing how hard it would be living up to his brothers. Not getting the attention he deserved from me, because there were so many children I had to balance." She sighed.

Neville bit his lip, wondering if he should say anything. Was she upset about them? She wasn't giving him any clues.

"I think he's the most sensitive of all my children. It may sound awful to say it, but he was the one I most wished I could give the world to. Not that I don't adore my other children. But seeing his face fall when he wanted some little toy that we couldn't afford…it was horrid. I watched that happy little boy get more and more serious. I would change that in a moment if I could."

Her eyes moved to him again suddenly, and he tensed.

She smiled sadly. "Sometimes when he looks at you he smiles the way he used to."

Neville breathed in and held it.

"Please don't hurt him, Neville. I know you're a good boy, and you wouldn't…but you're both so young, and he can get hurt so easily."

Neville swallowed and let himself breathe again. He met her eyes, and everything he felt for Ron, already bubbling close to the surface, he let himself show plainly. He spoke sincerely and hoped she would see it. "I would never do anything to hurt him. I would die first."

She nodded, her eyes going suddenly bright. "Good. That's…good. Alright, Neville. You…you run along now. It's getting late, and we can talk later."

He could tell she was close to crying. He just nodded and went for the door. He hesitated in the hall and looked back before shutting the door. "Good night, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled weakly. "Sleep well, Neville dear."

He moved down the hall slowly, not sure whether he should feel relieved or just sad.

****

Author's Notes….

Hi all! Sorry about the delay in this chapter! Wasn't too long, I hope.

Sarah – Yeah, that's what I figured. I wanted to show Harry as being sort of self-focused and presumptuous, but no more than anyone would be in his shoes. Glad you understand that. J

SparkySparkles – Not bored, huh? I guess I'll take that as a compliment. Heh. Before we co petitioning on Neville's behalf, we should maybe just email the list owners and see if they'll add him a button in. In fact, I think I'll do that right after I post this. Probably wouldn't hurt for others to do it, too.

Miste – Glad you liked! No worries about reviews. I don't demand any sort of consistency from you. I'm just grateful you send me feedback at all. G I hope this chapter answered your questions. I hope it made you ask more questions, though. Ron's not out of the fire yet. Hee.

Jillian – Why, thank you. I will definitely take 'Rowling-esque' to be a compliment. Unfortunately the Quietus didn't do Ron much good in the big scheme of things. And its place in this story is not over yet.

Lady Wolfshead – No worries, mate! I'm glad you're still reading! Fifteen chapters in and people are still paying attention, so I guess I'm doing something right. Anyway…I'm glad you like LeStrange. I didn't want her too over-the-top, but she really sort of is in the books anyway. And Harry…yeah, he's a hard one to pin down. Nice, but not. It's odd. Yes, I hurt Ron. And I'll hurt Neville. But it's okay, see. I hurt them so I can heal them. It's a very loving thing, really. No…no, really. G

Loonylass – Glad you like it! Thanks! And yeah, Neville rocks! Especially after this last book, when Rowling gives him a bit of backbone! I adore him, and I'm glad other people do, too.

Arynnl – Sorry! I'm not quite up to posting five chapters at once. Well…I could, but the updates would be much further apart. J As to your question…well, is it wrong of me to enjoy writing a fic where Ron is in pain? Trust me, I won't leave him hurting. I'll make him better. I usually do. Most of the time. Heheh. Thanks so much for what you said! I really do appreciate it a lot.