Author's Note: I've been asked several questions regarding this story and what's going on. Many of you missed two very key things in the last chapter. I'm not going to point them out, or anything, but be alert for clues and such as the story progresses. Remember, e-mail me or review if you have any thoughts on what's happened.

4. Consumption

"Oh, hello, Mr. Longbottom," the girl behind the counter greeted brightly.

Harry smirked a little and Neville said, "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Ashley," the girl grinned, her cheeks reddening. "Coffee, again, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Coffee, eh? Er, uh, why not? Gran always makes tea, but there's no harm in being adventurous once ... Especially, when she's down with Mum and Dad. For you, Harry?"

"Tea, for me, thanks."

"And a second tea, if you don't mind ... Ashley. For my grandmother."

"Of course, Mr. Longbottom," she said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Harry was impressed with the young girl's ability to never look at them oddly when he repeated the same thing each day. She seemed to have a bit of a crush on the forgetful resident of St. Mungo's.

"There's a table over there, Neville. Would you like to sit?" Harry asked.

Neville looked inquiringly at the girl and opened his mouth to speak, but the girl nodded happily, "Yes, I can bring it to you."

"Okay, then."

The two of them sat down across from one another and Harry winked teasingly.

"Ashley," he repeated. Neville made a face at him.

"What?"

"I saw that back there."

Neville was indignant.

"What?"

In a mocking tone, Harry joked, "Of course, Mr. Longbottom." He emphasized every other syllable and batted his eyelashes.

"Oh, would you leave it? She's too old for me," Neville insisted, turning in his chair so he wasn't facing his friend.

"I thought you fancied Luna."

Neville turned back with wide eyes and, in an urgent whisper, leaned close and said, "Harry! What are you on about? Shh."

"Is she here? Can she hear me?" Harry asked loudly, looking around. "Luuna! Luuna?"

Neville kicked him under the table as Ashley arrived with Neville's coffee in hand.

"Thanks," he said, taking it and not meeting her gaze.

"And here's your tea," she told him, setting it beside his coffee before turning and starting off.

"Uh ... Ashley?" Harry called her. "My tea?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter. One moment."

Harry turned a 'well-how-do-you-like-that?' look on Neville who was attempting to hide his smile behind his coffee cup.

"Should you be drinking coffee with that stuff in the air?" Ron asked, waving his hand in front of his face.

"I've told you, Ron, this has nothing to do with the work. Fibrich brought in his exploding cigar gag again," Neville mumbled, frowning at the Daily Prophet.

"Still."

Neville looked up from his cup and blinked.

"I mean, it IS ashes and things."

Blinking once more, Neville held up the smoke dispeller and sprayed it once before going back to his coffee.

Harry laughed a little, tapping a cage holding two rats, one mottled brown and the other snow white.

Ron turned a disgusted look on him.

"I hate rats."

Neville quirked an eyebrow as he continued to read.

"Spiders."

The red-head jumped out of his seat and brushed himself off frantically, "Where?!"

"Nowhere. I thought you hated spiders."

Reclaiming his seat, Ron shrugged, "A man can hate two things, can't he?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, taking the seat next to him. "I hate rats, as well."

"What the second thing you hate?" Neville asked, taking off his reading glasses and setting them aside.

"Danishes from the Ministry kitchen," came the reply as he held up a stale pastry and dropped it back to the plate with a 'clang'.

"I'd have to agree," Neville chuckled, standing and stretching with a groan. He slumped his shoulders when he relaxed and drummed his hands on the counter.

"So," Ron began, gulping his tea. "What've you got for us today?"

Neville pointed to the cage, "Them."

"Spick and Span," Harry read off the ID cards on the cages.

"Not quite," the Unspeakable corrected, discarding the name badge and pulling the cage to him. "It's Spick and Specimen A. I can't stand experimenting on something with a name."

The Aurors gave him strange looks.

"What're you going to do to him?" Harry asked.

"I just need to show you something, and the rat would be less gruesome than how I discovered it." When the looks didn't go away, he added, "Do you remember Smyth?"

"Dean Thomas' partner, right?" Harry tried to remember.

"Oh, the new Auror? Yeah, he's a nice guy," Ron nodded.

"Then you'll be sad to know that he's deceased," Neville informed them somberly.

"How do you know?" Harry queried, suspiciously.

"His body was delivered to us after a particularly nasty duel with Death Eaters, last night. It was completely dried out and beginning to wither."

Harry pushed away his stale Danish and Ron's lip curled.

"How long had he been dead?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"What?" Ron couldn't believe it.

"Why did they bring him to you?" Harry went on.

"His lips were charred and he smelled strongly of smoke. Dean wasn't familiar with the curse – Exustus."

"Curse Fire? I thought that was only used on buildings," Ron breathed.

"Well, you weren't the only one."

"How are they going to tell people?"

"They're not, yet. It's been officially labeled an Unforgivable, though. I plan to show you why with Spa ... er, Specimen A."

"Are you going to kill it?" Harry looked wary.

"Is that going bother either of you?"

"Which one's Specimen A?" Ron asked.

"The brown one."

"Kill it," both Aurors agreed immediately.

Retrieving a separate, smaller cage, Neville took Specimen A and put him in it. The rat didn't have much room to move, as Neville needed it to face him as much as possible. He drew his wand, aimed, and said, "Exuro."

A stream of fire shot from the tip and disappeared.

"What happened?" the red-head asked.

"It looked like he swallowed it, but he seems fine," Harry commented.

Neville remained silent and it was a mere second before the rat dropped and rolled onto his back, writhing. Spick still watching in the adjacent cage, stuck his nose through the bars and sniffed at his former roommate.

"Shouldn't he burst into flames or something?" Ron questioned again.

"You'd think," the Unspeakable mumbled, watching the rat closely. It had started to convulse and cough. The Aurors couldn't take their eyes from the small animal, and it was only a moment before it ceased all movement and smoke drifted from it's mouth and nostrils. Neville sprayed a small amount of the smoke dispeller on the rat's face and pulled it out.

"We've never been able to prove that the smoke has any detrimental affects, but the stench is acrid. Fibrich wants to start scenting the dispeller."

"The rat, Neville," Harry reminded him.

"Right." He splayed the rat on it's back, all four limbs as spread apart as he could manage. The flesh had already begun to draw up a bit as he picked up a knife and made an incision from the chin to the groin. Ron and Harry leaned forward a bit and Neville opened the carcass.

"What the ...?" Ron gasped, sitting back.

All that remained inside the body of the rat was ash and charred bone.

"It's a fire that consumes you from the inside. It stops when you stop breathing in more oxygen, but by that time, it's already dried your organs and blood and turned them to ash. The attack on the lungs is going on from the moment it enters the body and as you gasp for air, the oxygen feeds it."

"He was just out of training," Ron murmured, unsettled.

"He shouldn't have been dealing with Death Eaters, yet," Harry though aloud.

"That should have been ... could have been one of us."

"And that's why I'm showing you this. You need to know what you're up against."

"Do you have a cure? An antidote? A counter-curse? Something?"

Neville shook his head. "I'm working on it, and, though that may not be much comfort, I will find it. I can't let this happen to you two."

"Here's your tea, Mr. Potter," Ashley announced, startling Harry out of his memory. He gasped and began coughing, lowering his head, but holding up his hand in silent thanks. Neville frowned, concerned and Harry bent until his head was between his knees. As he coughed, he tasted ash and exhaled smoke, waving it away quickly before sitting straight again.

"Fine, I'm fine," he managed hoarsely.

"You sure? Drink up. Warm tea should relax your throat. Maybe you should be drinking water."

"No, Neville, I'm alright. Thank you, though."

The other man didn't look all-too-convinced, but sat back in his chair anyway. He looked at the mug of coffee and cup of tea in front of him and pushed the coffee away.

"Whoops. Must have sat at someone else's table. We should probably see if the healer's ready to see me yet."

"Yes, yes, we don't want to miss him," Harry agreed. They stood and waved their thanks at the girl before exiting the café.