A/N: Fanfiction.net has been awfully temperamental lately. I would have updated much sooner, but when you can't log in, you can't update. Things sure must have been crazy. I got the same review emailed to me five times and then nothing else happened for days. Well, we're back in business now.
Haunting Darkness: Yours is the review I've been emailed five times (the one about Cho). Who knows why. Anyway, thanks for continuing to review. I'm glad you think I write well! As for what got me to this point… I don't think you really wanted an answer to the question, but I'm going to give one anyway. First, I read a lot. The last book I finished was John Adams by David McCullough. Fascinating piece of work; it won the Pulitzer a year or two ago, you know. I'm a big fan of John Adams now. He's completely overshadowed by Washington and Jefferson. Anyway, extensive reading and knowledge of the rules of grammar really help. There are a lot of people who post some good ideas on this site but their spelling, grammar, punctuation, you name it are so poor that I just can't read the story. Hmm… Maybe I should post a "story" that simply serves as a writing aid.
Danae: Nice to see you again! Yeah, poor everyone… not fun times.
PhoenixTearsp322: I hope you enjoyed your vacation. I can hear you singing now: Ding dong, old Fudge is dead. Which old Fudge? The Minister Fudge! Ding dong, old Fudgie, he is deaaad… Well, I didn't kill him to appease anyone. I thought that he had dug himself in too deeply to get out. Thanks for pointing out that mistake, too. It was supposed to be Cruciatus, not Imperius. I've fixed it now. grumbles I read the chapter over heaven knows how many times and I still didn't catch it.
Kaye: At least I didn't kill her! Aaugh, I STILL can't believe J.K. Rowling killed Sirius. Sniff.
Sherry: More about plans for the future in this chapter!
All Hail Chaos: Welcome to the story, and thanks for the encouragement! Interesting name you've got there.
howling wolf1: If you've signed up for chapter alerts (and I see that you have), then you should automatically get them. If the alerts ever don't go out, and I usually know when that happens, then I'll certainly drop you a note.
Rob: You pay a great deal of attention to detail. I'm a bit surprised that no one else commented on Ron and Hermione's exclusion. Different, yes, but there it is. Have you considered writing stories of your own? It just sounds to me like you've got the fortitude for it. Hey, what do I know… maybe you already do write.
krysalys73: Heh. Thanks for giving me permission to use your idea. Now I'm just going to have to find a good place to work it in.
athenakitty: You are never satisfied! I kill the one guy you really want dead, and now you want Lucius, Bellatrix, and Draco gone. Do I need to start calling you Death Queen? :-)
Jemma Blackwell: Thanks for the compliment! I'm always trying to write so that you can see what I see, hear what I hear, etc. I'd really like to be able to draw some of these scenes, but I don't have much experience drawing and I've got little time to practice.
Chapter 40: Frank and Alice Longbottom
Harry awoke early the next morning, well before any of his roommates were up. He sat up and stretched, feeling his neck crack a bit. He wished he'd changed before falling asleep; he always hated how he felt after sleeping in his clothes.
Harry pulled his bedcurtains open and looked out the open window at the newly risen sun. A cool morning breeze was wafting into the room along with the sounds of singing birds. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. Harry was surprised to realize that Hagrid was right – he did feel better. He was no longer reeling from shock and though he still felt the vestiges of anger and sorrow, they had lost their keen edges.
Harry rose and went to his trunk. He pulled out a clean set of robes and was just leaving to find a shower when he saw that Ron was looking at him. His friend had pulled his curtains back a bit and was blinking sleepily.
"Hey," said Ron.
"Hey," said Harry.
"You look awful," said Ron.
"Sleep in your Quidditch robes and see how you feel," said Harry. "I'm going to clean up. See you in a bit."
"Yeah." Ron yawned and snuggled back into his pillow.
When Harry returned from the bathroom, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him in the common room. "Good morning, Harry," Hermione said tentatively.
Harry ventured a half-smile. "Good morning," he said.
"How are you doing, mate?" Ron said seriously.
"Okay," said Harry. "Listen, about last night –"
"Forget about it," said Ron. "We understand."
"You do?" said Harry.
"Yes," said Hermione. "Neville told us everything, including what happened to his parents."
"He did?" said Harry. "Well, good for him."
"Yes, I think it was good for him," said Hermione. "I didn't know that Bellatrix Lestrange was the one who tortured his mother and father."
"He was pretty upset when I told him she was out," said Harry. "At least she's a captive again. Listen, you know you're still my best friends, right?"
"We told you, forget about it," said Ron, and Hermione smiled and nodded. "This is crazy stuff." Harry felt some of the tension go out of his chest. He hadn't expected his friends to be quite so understanding.
"Come on," said Hermione. "Let's get down to breakfast. I'll bet anything the Daily Prophet will be breaking the bad news to the rest of the world any second now."
"Find someone to take your wager and you'll be a rich woman," said Harry. "Hagrid and I were mobbed by reporters as we left St. Mungo's last night."
The atmosphere in the Great Hall was festive as the end of the school year was just two weeks away. Only a few students had any idea of what had happened last night. All the Gryffindors who had heard Neville's tale wore somber expressions and said little. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw that a handful of them were subdued as well, including Draco Malfoy. Harry suddenly felt a stab of pity for his nemesis, who was surely about to be embarrassed beyond comprehension by the news of his father's capture. After what had happened last night, Lucius Malfoy would no longer be able to hide his allegiance.
Harry wondered exactly how deep Draco was in himself. As Professor Thornby had once said, the sins of the father did not automatically make the son guilty, but Draco had always taken pleasure in other people's misery. Harry was fairly certain that in this case, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. Still, he couldn't help musing on what Draco would have been like had he been raised by anyone other than his icy parents. In a startling moment of revelation, Harry realized that Draco's personality wasn't entirely his fault; he had been poisoned from birth by a family that embraced evil.
A screech sounded overhead followed by several others. The mail had arrived.
A thick roll of parchment dropped down next to Hermione. She sighed heavily and unrolled it. There in bold black print was the announcement, "YOU-KNOW-WHO HAS RETURNED". Beneath were the subtitles "YOU-KNOW-WHO MASTERMINDS AZKABAN BREAK" and "BATTLE IN LITTLE HANGLETON – CORNELIUS FUDGE SLAIN". Photographs of the escaped Death Eaters littered the page. The portrait of Bellatrix Lestrange, who gazed up with her heavy-lidded eyes, was strangely compelling. Harry found it hard to look away from her.
It took less than a minute for the entire Hall to get the news. The sound of loud speech died away and was replaced by whispers as the news was passed from the students with the paper to those without. Finally even the whispers died away and an eerie silence fell.
Harry's friends all crowded around Hermione and the Daily Prophet – Ron, the fifth years, the Quidditch team, and Ginny. They read in silence as the paper confirmed all the details of Harry's story, related to them by Neville.
Hermione turned the page. There they found continuations of the first stories and new ones about who had perished in the battle. Harry only recognized one name other than Fudge, and that was Roland Goyle. He had never heard what Gregory Goyle's father's name was, but he knew he'd been a Death Eater. One glance at the Slytherin showed that he was right; Goyle was utterly stonefaced though Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Vincent Crabbe were all talking softly to him.
Then came the story about Professor Thornby's fate. Harry was surprised to see that the article accurately reported the circumstances of her near-execution, which was the catalyst for the battle. It did not, however, connect her with Harry in any way. That was to be expected; no one save the Order members and Harry's friends really knew exactly how she had been cursed. Students around the Great Hall reacted with shock and disbelief as they absorbed the news.
Fudge came off looking better than he perhaps deserved. He was vilified for his role in the botched execution but was lauded for his ultimate decision to turn from evil. Harry shook his head. There was no way for anyone to know what he had been thinking at the last. Had Fudge died still resenting Dumbledore, or had he really had a change of heart? All Harry knew was that Fudge had really, truly not wanted to aid Voldemort in any way.
One of the few places where the articles failed to report the facts involved Harry's presence at the hospital. The paper made wild guesses as to what he had been doing there. One speculation named him Dumbledore's anointed successor. Another said that he could heal the afflicted with a single touch, and still another claimed he was a Singer and Professor Thornby's apprentice. They were all clearly shots in the dark, but they still worried Harry. It didn't take a great stretch of the imagination to realize that if Harry had been at the hospital, then he'd probably been at the battle as well. He realized that he didn't much care who knew that he had a guardian, but he didn't want anyone figuring out how she had been broken. If it were known that she stood between Harry and harm, she would be offed before you could even think 'Avada Kedavra'.
Harry knew that it wasn't just the Death Eaters who would be a problem if the truth of the sacrifice came out. Who knew how many people feared Singers as much as Fudge had? Any fanatic would be dangerous. What would happen if someone used the Killing Curse on him? Would Professor Thornby absorb that and leave Harry unhurt, or would they both be killed? In any case, Harry was determined to stay out of harm's way until he figured out a way to break the bond or at least change it. He wouldn't even stub a toe if he could help it.
"May I have your attention please," said Dumbledore's commanding voice. It was already very quiet in the Great Hall, but every eye turned to the staff table where the headmaster had risen from his seat. He looked solemnly back at the students over his half-moon glasses. "You all seem to have heard the news that Voldemort has attacked and Minister Cornelius Fudge is dead. As one who was there, I can tell you that these stories are true. Ten lives were lost last night, and Voldemort's followers were released from prison. I will not mince words with you; the second war has begun." A murmur rippled through the hall. "Most of you will have also heard that our History of Magic Professor has lost her mind. This is also true. The cause was the Cruciatus Curse, administered by Bellatrix Lestrange. The healers at St. Mungo's believe that recovery is extremely unlikely." Students glanced at each other with dismayed faces. At the staff table, the professors reacted with varying degrees of surprise. McGonagall, Snape, and Bellaton, who already knew, absorbed it with faces that looked carved from stone.
"These are the beginnings of dark days," Dumbledore continued gravely. "Voldemort and his followers will do their utmost to wrest power from our government, our courts, and from this school. But I want to remind you all that there is no safer place to be than Hogwarts. This school will not close. It will not bend knee to Voldemort, and neither will the rest of the world so long as it bands together against him.
"I encourage everyone who is not in their seventh year to continue your education during this time. Hogwarts is where you will be armed to face the obstacles before you. Adult witches and wizards will fight this evil with their wands, but you will fight it by learning. Only with a thorough education will you be prepared to live in the world that exists beyond these castle walls." Dumbledore sat down again, and the Great Hall filled with the buzz of talking students.
"Will people really take their kids out of school?" Harry asked aloud.
"It happened last time," said Alicia. "My dad told me that nearly a third of the students were kept home by their parents."
"But Dumbledore's right – Hogwarts is the safest place for anyone," said Seamus.
Alicia shrugged. "I guess some people just want their families close at times like these."
The rest of breakfast was a quiet affair. Harry, Ron, and Hermione mechanically ate before returning to Gryffindor Tower for their books. With the exams this close, they were spending as much time as possible studying. All the fifth years were and that day was no different, even if the world finally knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Voldemort had returned.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had not been in the library long before Professor McGonagall came walking up with Neville in tow. She gave them no chance to ask questions. "You three are needed," she said briskly. They looked curiously at each other but Professor McGonagall made no move to explain herself further, and Harry and his friends rose to go, leaving their books on the table.
As they walked through the halls, Neville filled them in. "My gran is here," he said. "I owled her before going to bed last night."
"What does she have to do with us?" said Ron.
"I told her I wanted you to see my mum and dad," said Neville.
"Today?" said Harry.
Neville shrugged. "Well, sometime soon. I think I'd better warn you – she might not like the idea much. Her coming without writing back isn't a good sign. She's… formidable."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged uncertain glances. Harry had only ever seen Neville's grandmother briefly, and she looked… well, like a grandmother, but he had heard stories. Mrs. Longbottom was reputed to be tough as nails and hardheaded as a bull. Quiet, reserved Neville frequently seemed either in awe or fear of her. In any case, she sounded very much like a true matriarch.
Professor McGonagall stopped in front of the now familiar stone gargoyle. "Pepper Imp," she said, and it rotated to grant them entrance. Inside Dumbledore's office stood the headmaster and an aged, stiff-backed witch. She wore severe-looking robes complete with a brooch at her throat and an imposing hat that sported what looked like a stuffed raven. Her hair was iron gray and pulled up beneath the hat.
Neville's grandmother swept up to him when he entered. "Good afternoon, Neville," she said briskly. "Studying up for your O.W.L.s?"
"Yes, gran," said Neville.
Mrs. Longbottom's stern face suddenly melted into a warm smile. She looked not unlike Professor McGonagall when she smiled. "I know you'll do well," she said fondly. "You've quite changed this year; your family and I hardly know what to make of it." Neville was clearly trying not to smile, but he went pink and the corners of his mouth twitched.
Mrs. Longbottom's gaze fell on Harry, Ron, and Hermione and her smile faded away. "Will you introduce your friends?" she said.
"Oh," said Neville. "Um, gran, this is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger."
"How do you do?" Hermione said politely.
"Why, very well, thank you," Mrs. Longbottom said tartly. "Neville speaks so highly of all three of you." Her tone clearly said that she had formed no such high opinion herself. Harry thought her piercing eyes could see right through him. Neville had told the truth; his grandmother was a formidable woman.
"So. You want to see what Cruciatus can do to a person," said Mrs. Longbottom. Harry, Ron, and Hermione glanced uneasily at each other. Mrs. Longbottom made that sound like an accusation. Clearly she was unhappy about the arrangement.
"I suggested it, gran," Neville said quickly. "They never would have asked me any such thing."
"Wouldn't they, now," said Mrs. Longbottom, casting another critical glance at Harry and his friends.
"No, they wouldn't," Neville said in a firmer voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at him in amazement. All three of them were intimidated by this woman, but Neville was speaking up to her? Even if she was family to him, she was still severe. "Mum and Dad can help even if they don't know it. My friends can learn something from them."
Mrs. Longbottom's features softened, and for an instant naked pain was visible on her face. Just as quickly as it had come it was gone again, masked behind a wall of steel. "Very well," she said. "Albus, will you be accompanying us?"
"If you will permit me, Magnolia," said Dumbledore. "It has been too long since I have seen Frank and Alice."
"For heaven's sake, Albus, call me Maggie. How many times to I have to tell you?" said Mrs. Longbottom.
"Once more, obviously," said Dumbledore with a smile. He picked up a flowering plant from his desk. "A gift from Professor Sprout," he said. "Apparently the blossoms' aroma is supposed to relax the mind and promote creative thought."
"Please thank her for me," Mrs. Longbottom said tightly, and Harry remembered what Neville had told him – that his grandmother had given up hope for his parents' recovery.
"Shall we go?" said Dumbledore, and Mrs. Longbottom nodded.
The six of them Flooed one by one to the waiting room at St. Mungo's. When they had all arrived Mrs. Longbottom strode to the desk at the end of the room. "We are here to see Frank and Alice Longbottom," she said in a bossy voice.
The witch blanched a bit at being addressed in such a tone, but she merely pushed a large, leatherbound book to the edge of the desk. "Please sign in," she said. When everyone had done so, she called another witch in white, who bade the group to follow her.
The night before, Harry had been too distracted to notice his surroundings much. Now he had a chance to look around as they walked. The hallways were wide and had arched ceilings and doorways, and the walls were all lit with the same silvery lamps. They passed many corridors and rooms that branched off from the main passage. Harry got a glimpse into a few of them as they passed. Through one door he thought he saw an endless pine forest, and the ceiling of another was enchanted like the roof of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Still another seemed to be an enormous greenhouse of some sort, full of vines and flowers. Most of the rooms, however, looked like normal hospital rooms, full of white beds.
Ron and Hermione seemed just as curious about the enchanted rooms as Harry was. "What's with all the forests and such?" said Ron.
"They are therapeutic locations," said the witch. "At St. Mungo's we promote a sense of tranquility in every way possible. Many patients enjoy an accelerated recovery by spending time in those rooms. We're currently working on a seaside; it's really something. Here we are - the closed ward." The pair of doors they had stopped before glowed slightly around the edges. "You need a password to get in," she explained. "This ward contains some of our most sensitive patients, and we can't have people wandering in to disturb them. Rest for the Weary." The doors swung open.
The closed ward was essentially a large room with white walls, a high ceiling, and dozens of windows. A few matrons and healers moved between the beds. Some were filled with people who seemed to be asleep while others were curtained off so they couldn't be seen. Here and there a patient was up and about. It was very quiet save for the sounds made by a man at the far end of the ward who apparently thought he was a bird. The still atmosphere made Harry feel very uncomfortable. He tried not to look too long at any of the patients as he walked past, thinking that it would be rude to stare.
Finally the group approached two people who sat in armchairs near a window. "My parents," Neville said softly.
Neville's mother, Alice, had a face that had once been beautiful but now was lined and sagging. His father, Frank, looked far too old for his age. Their hair and clothes were clean and neatly kept, and they bore no physical injuries that Harry could see. Their faces, on the other hand, were another matter entirely. Two pairs of eyes stared straight out the window. Their expressions were devoid of all emotion. Neither so much as glanced up at the small group; in fact, they didn't even seem aware of each other.
No one said anything for a long minute. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sadly watched the damaged witch and wizard as they gazed out the window. They were shells of the people they had once been. Harry wondered how he would be able to stand seeing Professor Thornby like this, knowing what she had once been like. The Longbottoms' bodies went on living while the very things that made them unique were gone. Harry absently wondered if they were much different from people who had received a Dementor's Kiss.
"Neville," said Mrs. Longbottom, breaking the quiet, "go sit with your friends, please. I would like to speak with Albus alone."
"Yes, gran," said Neville. He led Harry, Ron, and Hermione across the room to a small group of chairs. They could still see his parents, Mrs. Longbottom, and Dumbledore from their position, but they were out of earshot.
"Neville, I'm so sorry," said Hermione, twisting her hands. Ron didn't say anything, but his expression showed his compassion.
"I guess you can see why I never told anyone," said Neville. "Gran thinks I'm ashamed of them, but I'm not. I was enough of a screw-up to begin with; I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me for my parents on top of that."
"You're not a screw-up," Harry said solemnly.
Neville ventured a tiny smile. "Thanks," he said. "I've changed so much in the past year that I hardly know myself."
"You were never a screw-up," said Harry. "Not to any of your friends."
Neville smiled again, but Harry could see that he didn't believe him. "I'm proud of Mum and Dad," he said. "I know they did the right thing, and that helps, but I still wish… I wish this had never happened."
Another silence fell. After a few minutes Hermione spoke up. "Neville, do you know how many people are here who are like your parents?"
"Insane from Cruciatus?" said Neville. "The last I heard, it was near a dozen or so, all told."
"And they've been looking for a cure all this time?"
"I think so," said Neville, "but I get the feeling they're just going through the motions now. This isn't a new problem; the last war just threw it back into the spotlight."
"Well, I won't just go through the motions," Hermione said firmly.
"What are you talking about?" said Ron.
"I'm saying that I'm going to look for a solution," she said.
"Hermione, the best healers have been working on this for decades," said Ron. "What makes you think you can succeed where they've failed?"
"There has to be a way," said Hermione. "Harry told us that Healer Bigelow said that his books make reference to a cure. And if anyone knows how to dig through books, it's me."
"Don't you think they've done that already?" said Ron. "You're not going to find your answer in the library at Hogwarts! Anything close to hand will have been gone through!"
"I doubt it," said Hermione. "There's loads of stuff in there that no one ever touches, and besides, I don't think the Healers would go there to do research. No, I don't think I'll find a book that tells me exactly what the cure is, but I'm sure I'll find books that give me clues. And don't forget – there are more libraries in the world than the one at Hogwarts. I've got access to the one at Alverbrooke, too, and after that… there's the Great Library."
"I don't think that's even in this country," said Ron.
"It's in Greece," said Hermione. "Amazing, the things you can learn from books, isn't it?"
"You can't just up and go to Greece!" Ron exclaimed.
"You said that Dumbledore was going to talk to Professor Binns, Harry," said Neville.
Harry frowned. "Yes, but I wouldn't put too much faith in him. He won't see the matter as urgent. I'll bet he just puts it off in favor of whatever he's doing right now."
"Well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," said Hermione.
"What's with all this 'I' anyway?" said Ron. "Whatever happened to 'we'?"
Hermione stared incredulously at him. "You've just given me all these reasons why I shouldn't bother –"
"Well, looking for ourselves is at least better than waiting for the healers to figure it out," said Ron.
Hermione threw up her hands. "I'll never understand you."
"I hope you never will," said Ron, grinning impishly. "How about it, Harry? Are you in?"
A slow smile crept across Harry's face. "Yeah," he said. "Let's do it."
"I'll help too," said Neville. "I'm sick of waiting around."
"I don't want you to get your hopes up too much," Hermione said worriedly. "We might not find anything at all."
Neville shrugged. "I know. But at least this way I can say that I tried."
Hermione beamed at him. "Oh, this is so exciting! With the four of us working on it, we'll get through the Hogwarts library in no time!"
"Ugh, don't make me reconsider," said Ron. "Weeks of sitting around in the library, going through book after obscure book and getting covered in dust isn't my idea of fun."
"Speaking of which, we won't have access to the Hogwarts library much longer," said Harry. "Once exams are over we'll have the rest of the summer to work, but we won't be at school."
"I think I can spare a little studying time," said Hermione. "I've got a blank book in my room. Maybe I can do some copying."
Ron's mouth fell open. "Now I know you're cracked," he said. "Giving up study time? You're probably more prepared for the O.W.L.s than anyone else, but I know you're still obsessing."
"There's no such thing as being too prepared," Hermione said loftily, "though I must say, your own efforts this year have been nothing short of miraculous."
"Only because you need really good marks to get into Auror training," Ron grumped.
"Wow," said Neville. "I didn't know that's what you were going for."
"What about you?" said Harry.
"I don't really know," said Neville. "Gran's been getting on my case about it. I've got a few ideas, but I haven't decided yet."
"Time to go, Neville," said his grandmother's voice from nearby. Everyone jumped; they hadn't noticed her approach. Harry searched Mrs. Longbottom's face carefully, but she didn't look as if she had overheard any of their plans.
"I didn't get to visit," said Neville.
"I know," said Mrs. Longbottom. "In two weeks you'll have plenty of time to come and see them. Right now you need to study for your O.W.L.s."
"Yeah," sighed Ron. "Back to the books again."
The students left the closed ward with Dumbledore and Mrs. Longbottom, but not before Neville gently kissed his mother and father goodbye. Minutes later they were back at Hogwarts. After a quick stop at Gryffindor Tower for Hermione's benefit, they were on their way to the library again.
"I've got this," said Hermione, holding up a thick book, "and I'm fairly sure there's something about copying in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3. I had today earmarked for studying Herbology, but I feel fairly confident about that class already, so I figure I can do this now."
"I can help," Ron said eagerly. "I was going to do Astronomy today, but you don't need that for Auror training, so –"
"Forget it, freckle-face," said Hermione. "I saw your last test. You still don't know the difference between a quasar and a pulsar."
"Since when do Aurors need to know about quasars and pulsars?" said Ron. "And what're you doing looking at my tests?" They bickered all the way to the library, but Hermione was adamant. When she threatened to not let him help at all, Ron got the message and swore he would learn everything about distant heavenly bodies that she pleased.
Neville settled himself back at the corner table with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The boys all cracked their books while Hermione raided the shelves. Before long she had figured out her copying charm; one quill danced over the page of the book she wanted to reproduce while another self-inking quill mimicked its motion on the page of her blank book. Hermione leafed through the stack of tomes while the quills copied, marking pages that interested her with scraps of paper.
Harry watched enviously as Hermione rose from her chair, disappeared into the shelves, and returned with a new stack of books. What she was doing was of much more personal interest to him than the standard magical elements of wand cores, but he knew that he needed to study. In two weeks he'd have lots of time on his hands to use as he pleased, since he wouldn't be going back to Privet Drive. As he turned back to his text Harry briefly wondered what the Dursleys would make of it, but the thought passed as quickly as it had come, and his brain resumed memorizing countless facts once more.