A/N: I would like to thank the reviewers Hn, an Anonymous, and Anonymous2. I was beginning to wonder where all the criticism had gone! No matter. It either makes me laugh or makes me think. People read things they don't like and then complain. I've had my entertainment for today.
-Anna Dearest
Chapter Twenty-Two
Neville dimly felt the pull behind his navel through his clouded, pain- filled thoughts. His body screamed in agony as his feet gave out beneath him and he felt himself falling. Through the haze, he noticed that his face had stopped just short of the dirt.
"No, no, no," a voice muttered just behind him. "Can't have you doing anymore harm to yourself now, can we?"
Hank lowered Neville to the ground gently and then stood to examine his surroundings. They were deep in a forest. Where, he couldn't quite be sure.
"Only one way to find out!" Grasping the limbs of one of the taller trees, he began his agonizingly slow ascent to the canopy of leaves above. "Well, that's what I call convenient." A few miles away, standing tall and dark in the distance was a large stone structure: Hogwarts.
Reaching the ground faster than he'd expected, Hank went to inspect Neville's wounds. Rolling the boy over, he really only saw signs of starvation and dirt. Obviously, they'd done only magical damage, most likely through the Cruciatus Curse. Pulling out his wand, he muttered "Mobilicorpus," and set off with Neville's body drifting in front of him once more.
- - - - - - - - - -
"You know," Peter called from outside his makeshift, though strong cell. "They'll never accept you, either."
"Oh, shut up," Jonathan shouted, reclining in one of the chairs in the room, his wand pointing lazily in Pettigrew's direction. "If it were my choice, you'd be dead."
"But they'll never give you that choice," Peter replied stiffly. "You'll never make the c-calls. You're just a servant to them, and that's all y- you'll ever be."
"You're one to talk," Jonathan mumbled, tilting the chair back farther.
"Show a little loyalty to your b-blood," he pleaded.
"When'd you get so brave that you dare to open your snout," Jonathan snapped.
"Since I'm in a cell that has charms on it keeping me from transforming," Peter shrugged.
"I do show loyalty to my blood, as you put it," Jonathan sighed, rolling his eyes. "You see, it just depends on your point of view."
"And from my point of view, it's going to get you killed."
"You'd be surprised. I'm here to protect the students from Dementors, Death Eaters, and the like. What actually makes you think anymore are going to get in. Not many transform into filthy rats. I'm here to keep my eyes open."
"And perhaps you'll think differently when they're permanently shut."
"Give it a rest Pettigrew. If that's the best threat you can give me, you might as well give up, sit back, and wait for Azkaban to become capable of holding criminals once more."
"Your loss."
Jonathan snorted in contempt as Moody came to take his shift.
- - - - - - - - - -
"What d'you reckon is going on?" Ron asked as all of them sat out in the cool weather, thoroughly enjoying their Saturday.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, nibbling on the end of her quill.
"What do you think You-Know-Who is up to? Where's Neville? What's-?"
"Ron," Hermione interrupted, "it won't help to let them know they're interrupting our lives. You can't let them win."
"You mean they haven't already?" Ron muttered darkly.
"Chances are, Neville's alive," Harry said, faking optimism. "He could be making his way back to us right-"
"Now!" Hermione shrilled, throwing her book down and rushing to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the other two right behind her.
Standing among the bases of the dark trees, a young man, looking tired and worn, was floating Neville towards the castle. He stopped and knitted his brows together as the three students rushed towards him.
"Neville!" Hermione cried, stopping short as she saw the form of her emaciated friend.
"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted, his eyes as round as Galleons and his breathing coming in short gasps.
"How'd-?" Harry let the question hang in the air as he watched the mysterious man gaze at each of them in turn.
"I need to speak with Dumbledore," he said finally, "and take this boy to receive treatment, if possible."
"O-o-of course!" Hermione stuttered, leading the way up to the castle, her footsteps hurried as the others followed her into the castle. She led them directly to the Hospital Wing. "Madam Pomfrey!" she called.
"Hush, child!" the nurse scolded, handing a potion to Alice Longbottom. "Whatever do you-?" She stopped abruptly and her face went chalk white, her mouth opening and closing with a snap. "Put him on that bed," she instructed, regaining her composure as quickly as possible. "Now, if you three would please fetch the Headmaster. You sir," she pointed at Hank, "lay down."
"Great, make me feel more like a dog," Hank mumbled goodnaturedly, smiling at the nurse as she fussed over the now unconscious Neville.
Frank and Alice chose this moment for everything to come together. "Neville!" Alice shrieked, dropping the potion Madam Pomfrey had just handed her. She leapt from her bed and dashed towards her son. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure, but I need you to sit down," Madam Pomfrey replied in a cryptic tone. Nodding dumbly, Alice and Frank both seated themselves in the chairs nearby.
- - - - - - - - - -
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sped through the castle, nearly knocking over Lupin and Professor McGonagall as they hurdled towards Dumbledore's office. Harry sighed in relief as he caught side of the elderly headmaster exiting his chambers.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione called.
"Yes, Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked kindly.
"Hospital wing- Neville- hurt-" Hermione panted, but Dumbledore had heard all he needed. Sweeping past them, he made his way to the hospital wing, the three Gryffindors following in hot pursuit.
A/N: That's it for now. Review, if you don't mind. And feel free to criticize. Constructive criticism is preffered, but I could always use a good laugh.
-Anna Dearest
-Anna Dearest
Chapter Twenty-Two
Neville dimly felt the pull behind his navel through his clouded, pain- filled thoughts. His body screamed in agony as his feet gave out beneath him and he felt himself falling. Through the haze, he noticed that his face had stopped just short of the dirt.
"No, no, no," a voice muttered just behind him. "Can't have you doing anymore harm to yourself now, can we?"
Hank lowered Neville to the ground gently and then stood to examine his surroundings. They were deep in a forest. Where, he couldn't quite be sure.
"Only one way to find out!" Grasping the limbs of one of the taller trees, he began his agonizingly slow ascent to the canopy of leaves above. "Well, that's what I call convenient." A few miles away, standing tall and dark in the distance was a large stone structure: Hogwarts.
Reaching the ground faster than he'd expected, Hank went to inspect Neville's wounds. Rolling the boy over, he really only saw signs of starvation and dirt. Obviously, they'd done only magical damage, most likely through the Cruciatus Curse. Pulling out his wand, he muttered "Mobilicorpus," and set off with Neville's body drifting in front of him once more.
- - - - - - - - - -
"You know," Peter called from outside his makeshift, though strong cell. "They'll never accept you, either."
"Oh, shut up," Jonathan shouted, reclining in one of the chairs in the room, his wand pointing lazily in Pettigrew's direction. "If it were my choice, you'd be dead."
"But they'll never give you that choice," Peter replied stiffly. "You'll never make the c-calls. You're just a servant to them, and that's all y- you'll ever be."
"You're one to talk," Jonathan mumbled, tilting the chair back farther.
"Show a little loyalty to your b-blood," he pleaded.
"When'd you get so brave that you dare to open your snout," Jonathan snapped.
"Since I'm in a cell that has charms on it keeping me from transforming," Peter shrugged.
"I do show loyalty to my blood, as you put it," Jonathan sighed, rolling his eyes. "You see, it just depends on your point of view."
"And from my point of view, it's going to get you killed."
"You'd be surprised. I'm here to protect the students from Dementors, Death Eaters, and the like. What actually makes you think anymore are going to get in. Not many transform into filthy rats. I'm here to keep my eyes open."
"And perhaps you'll think differently when they're permanently shut."
"Give it a rest Pettigrew. If that's the best threat you can give me, you might as well give up, sit back, and wait for Azkaban to become capable of holding criminals once more."
"Your loss."
Jonathan snorted in contempt as Moody came to take his shift.
- - - - - - - - - -
"What d'you reckon is going on?" Ron asked as all of them sat out in the cool weather, thoroughly enjoying their Saturday.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, nibbling on the end of her quill.
"What do you think You-Know-Who is up to? Where's Neville? What's-?"
"Ron," Hermione interrupted, "it won't help to let them know they're interrupting our lives. You can't let them win."
"You mean they haven't already?" Ron muttered darkly.
"Chances are, Neville's alive," Harry said, faking optimism. "He could be making his way back to us right-"
"Now!" Hermione shrilled, throwing her book down and rushing to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the other two right behind her.
Standing among the bases of the dark trees, a young man, looking tired and worn, was floating Neville towards the castle. He stopped and knitted his brows together as the three students rushed towards him.
"Neville!" Hermione cried, stopping short as she saw the form of her emaciated friend.
"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted, his eyes as round as Galleons and his breathing coming in short gasps.
"How'd-?" Harry let the question hang in the air as he watched the mysterious man gaze at each of them in turn.
"I need to speak with Dumbledore," he said finally, "and take this boy to receive treatment, if possible."
"O-o-of course!" Hermione stuttered, leading the way up to the castle, her footsteps hurried as the others followed her into the castle. She led them directly to the Hospital Wing. "Madam Pomfrey!" she called.
"Hush, child!" the nurse scolded, handing a potion to Alice Longbottom. "Whatever do you-?" She stopped abruptly and her face went chalk white, her mouth opening and closing with a snap. "Put him on that bed," she instructed, regaining her composure as quickly as possible. "Now, if you three would please fetch the Headmaster. You sir," she pointed at Hank, "lay down."
"Great, make me feel more like a dog," Hank mumbled goodnaturedly, smiling at the nurse as she fussed over the now unconscious Neville.
Frank and Alice chose this moment for everything to come together. "Neville!" Alice shrieked, dropping the potion Madam Pomfrey had just handed her. She leapt from her bed and dashed towards her son. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure, but I need you to sit down," Madam Pomfrey replied in a cryptic tone. Nodding dumbly, Alice and Frank both seated themselves in the chairs nearby.
- - - - - - - - - -
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sped through the castle, nearly knocking over Lupin and Professor McGonagall as they hurdled towards Dumbledore's office. Harry sighed in relief as he caught side of the elderly headmaster exiting his chambers.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione called.
"Yes, Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked kindly.
"Hospital wing- Neville- hurt-" Hermione panted, but Dumbledore had heard all he needed. Sweeping past them, he made his way to the hospital wing, the three Gryffindors following in hot pursuit.
A/N: That's it for now. Review, if you don't mind. And feel free to criticize. Constructive criticism is preffered, but I could always use a good laugh.
-Anna Dearest