Chapter Nine – The Prophecy Revealed

Herbology couldn't end quickly enough. Harry kept giving him dark looks all throughout class. Neville racked his brain, trying to think of any possibility, of why they shared a vision three days ago of something that happened fifteen minutes ago. He couldn't think of a single reason why.

Harry bolted into the hallway when the bell finally rung, but Neville needed to give a report to Professor Sprout. Neville finally made it into the hallway. And to his surprise, Harry was waiting there alone.

"I need to talk to you," Harry said quickly. "Let's go to the Room of Requirements."

Neville simply nodded and followed Harry upstairs. Harry walked in front of the picture of the pear and when the door opened, there was simply two chairs facing each other.

Harry flung himself onto one, throwing his book bag across the room. Neville sat down on the other, looking at Harry worriedly. Neville was concerned about what had happened, but Harry seemed to be taking it too hard.

"Do you really think we saw the future?" Neville asked timidly.

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "But I have something else I need to tell you."

"What?"

"You have to promise that you won't tell anyone," Harry pleaded.

"Harry, you told me about the prophecy last year," Neville said quickly. "I haven't told anyone about that."

"It's about the prophecy," Harry said darkly.

Neville waited for Harry to continue.

"I didn't tell you everything," Harry said softly. "There's more."

"What'd you leave out?" Neville asked.

"The end," Harry said miserably. "And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

Neville repeated the words in his head. "You have to kill him?" Neville squeaked.

"Or be killed," Harry whispered. "Kill or be killed."

Neville found he couldn't look Harry in the eye. "You must think I'm the biggest idiot," Neville moaned.

"Huh?" Harry asked questioningly.

"After you told me last year…All I could do was prattle on like an idiot that I wished I could have been The One," Neville stammered.

"You didn't know, Neville," Harry reassured him. "I know. Dumbledore knows. And I'm sure a few Order members know. Voldemort can't have that information or I'm sure he'll have his little Death Eaters in training after me."

Neville stared at his hands. So many times since Harry had first told him about the prophecy had he wished he had been chosen The One. His parents would have had dignified deaths. Harry's parents might still be alive.

But now the guilt of not being the one chosen was weighing on his mind. And that for just a moment, Neville was grateful that it wasn't him.

"Why haven't you told Ron and Hermione?" Neville asked finally. "They're your best friends."

"I know," Harry said sadly. "How do you tell your best friends that if you don't kill someone, you'll be murdered?"

"You told me," Neville said.

"Yeah, but that's different," Harry said, looking Neville in the eye. "The prophecy could have easily been about you. And now with this future thing…"

"We need to tell Professor Snape," Neville said gloomily.

"And Dumbledore," Harry added. He leaned back his head and sighed. "It's the beginning of the year and I'm already exhausted."

"I think you should tell them, Harry. Especially Hermione. She's so good at figuring things out," Neville said.

"I know. I just don't know what to say."

-

"Repeat it, line by line, Harry," Hermione said efficiently. She dipped her quill in a bottle of in and looked ready to write everything down.

Neville convinced Harry that he needed to tell Ron and Hermione. Then Harry said he might as well tell Ginny and Luna. They had fought at the Ministry of Magic by their side. They deserved to know. But Harry wasn't ready to tell them about the last part.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches," Harry started. He paused, giving Hermione time to write. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not." Neville silently finished the prophecy in his head.

Neville felt Luna take his hand and give it a squeeze.

"So you're both born at the end of July," Hermione said, sucking the end of her quill. "And both your parents defied him three times. Do you know how?"

Harry and Neville shared a look. They both shook their heads. "I've no idea," Neville said apologetically.

"That's amazing that your folks did that," Ron said. "Escaped him three times. My parents didn't even fight in the first war."

"Defied, Ron," Hermione said quickly. "That's different than escaping."

"How so?"

Hermione sighed and put her hand under her chin. "To defy: To oppose or resist with bold assurances. To refuse to submit. To challenge or dare. Then there's to escape. To escape: To break loose from confinement. To avoid a serious or unwanted outcome."

All five heads turned towards Hermione slowly. "Tell me you don't have the dictionary memorized," Ginny said, her jaw dropped.

Hermione turned bright red. "I'm sorry. I guess I was showing off," she said meekly.

"That doesn't answer the question," Luna said dreamily.

"I thought you all figured it out," Hermione said.

"Obviously not, love," Ron said. Neville was surprised to see that Ron looked slightly annoyed. "Would you like to share it with us?"

"I have a recordatio memory," Hermione said softly. "Everything I see or hear gets filed away until I need it. That's one of the reasons I do so well at school, you see."

Harry let out a low whistle. "That explains a lot. Why didn't you just tell us?"

"Sometimes I feel like it's cheating," Hermione said. "Only Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall know."

"That's not cheating," Ginny scoffed. "I know I've read something about them. Doesn't it take a lot of energy to keep everything organized and to actually get it memorized?"

Hermione nodded. "That's why I'm so tired after I study."

"Why do you bother to study?" Harry asked with a grin on my face.

Hermione laughed. Neville was glad to see it; she had just looked so upset. "I have to read the books before the information is memorized. When I was a little girl, I read a page in the dictionary every night before I went to bed. I only got to the Gs. That's why I know the definitions of defy and escape."

"So there's a difference between defy and escape," Ron said. "Now what?"

"Before we really talk about this, can I think about it for a day or two?" Hermione said. "I have a zillion theories running through my head right now."

"Sure," Harry said casually.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Ginny asked. She looked at Harry interestedly.

"I don't know, to tell you the truth," Harry said. "Maybe I was trying to protect you all. Playing the hero, all over again."

Harry looked around miserably.

"Don't," Ginny said sharply.

"Don't, what?" Harry asked, sounding surprised that Ginny said something.

"Don't start feeling sorry for yourself again. We're fighting on your side, Harry," Ginny said assuredly. "You don't have to protect us from anything."

"You're right," Harry answered, looking ashamed of himself. Neville half wondered if he was going to tell them about the rest of the prophecy. But he didn't.

At that moment, Ron's stomach chose to rumble. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Typical male."

"I'm a growing boy," Ron laughed.

"You haven't grown in a year, Ronald," Luna said.

"I have too," Ron protested.

"You really haven't, Ron," Hermione said. "Which is good, because you're far too tall as it is."

"I am not," Ron said.

"For goodness sakes, Ron," Ginny laughed. "You're the tallest one in the family now. What more do you have to prove?"

"Maybe I think I have a few more inches left in me," Ron smirked, as his stomach growled again. "Oh forget it. Let's get some food. I'm starving."

-

Later that night, Neville lay on his four poster bed. The window was open, letting a cool late summer breeze into the room. The rest of his roommates where downstairs. Though it rarely happened, he loved spending time in the dorm alone.

He was staring at the ceiling when he heard an owl enter the dorm. Neville sat up quickly. The owl was holding a vial of green potion and looked annoyed. Jumping off of his bed, Neville took vial and the small card attached to the owl's leg.

The card was for Ron. Neville really didn't mean to look at the rest of it, but got the shock of his life when he saw that it was a bill for a vial of a contraception potion. His ears went immediately red.

Just then, the door opened, and Ron rushed inside. He took a galleon out of his pocket and gave it to the owl, who then flew out of the window quickly.

"You saw what it is, didn't you?" Ron asked, his face red.

Neville nodded. "I know it's none of my business…"

"That's okay," Ron said. "Hermione insists that we split the cost of the potion. She says that she refuses to pay for it by herself just because she's the girl."

"So you've really caught the snitch?" Neville asked.

Ron stood up a little straighter. "About a month ago," he said proudly. "Have you?"

Neville shook his head quickly. "I've gone through the central hoop, that's all."

"Too bad," Ron said.

"I don't mind," Neville said truthfully. "I tried going through the high hoop once, but Luna pushed me away. Said we'd talk about that when she's of age."

"When's that?" Ron asked.

"Christmas Eve," Neville said. He couldn't quite believe that he was having a normal conversation about sex with Ron. "Has Harry…"

"Nah," Ron said. "I know Seamus has caught the snitch. But I'm pretty sure Dean hasn't."

"Okay," Neville said, glad that he wasn't the only one. Then he asked the question he knew he shouldn't. "What's it like?"

"It's great. Really great," Ron said. "But I also know that she's going to be the only one ever."

"It'd be hard to find someone better than Hermione, that's for sure," Neville conceded.

"She's perfect," Ron said, flopping onto his bed. "I'm seventeen, Neville. And I already know I'm going to marry her someday. A bit scary if you ask me."

"Just a bit," Neville grinned. "Especially considering that Luna and I have actually been together longer than you both."

"Really?" Ron asked. "That's right, I'd forgotten."

They continued talking a bit, about school work and quidditch, and Neville knew the confidences were over. He was still pleased that he and Ron talked. He never really spoke to Ron on his own. It was always Harry and Ron.

The conversation made him think of Fourth Year, when the boys and girls were separated for a special lesson. The girls talked to Madam Pomfrey and the boys were lectured by Professor Green, the Muggle Studies teacher. Professor Green was a few minutes late, and Professor Snape had actually waited with them until the other professor arrived. Neville would never forget thinking he was about to get a lecture on sex from Professor Snape. Neville remembered that no one seemed to be able to look the opposite sex in the eye for the next day or two.

He also thought of Luna and his conflicting thoughts. He loved Luna more than anything. And there were times he definitely wanted to know Luna in that way. But they were so young. And the way Professor Green put it, if you're not ready for the responsibility of a baby, you're not ready for sex. And Neville most certainly wasn't ready for a baby.

But it was hard. Especially when they had privacy spells all around the Greenhouse, and he felt her lying beneath him, seeming to enjoy everything as much as he did. Neville closed his eyes and sighed. He had homework to do. The last thing he needed was to keep thinking along this train of thought. It was simply…too distracting.

-

The next day, Neville had a bit of time between classes. Like last week, he went to the Greenhouse to work on his various projects. Unlike last week, Luna was waiting for him there.

"You don't have class?" Neville asked, as he let them both in the Greenhouse.

Luna simply shook her head and sat down on the stool by his work station. Neville rolled up his sleeves and started replanting some Damian Herbs. Luna stayed silent.

After five minutes of silence, Neville was worried. "Luna, what's wrong?" he asked.

"What are you holding back from the prophecy?" she asked, her eyes wide.

Neville coughed, trying to but some time to think of what to say. "Nothing was held back," he said finally, not meeting her gaze.

"Please don't lie to me," Luna said firmly.

Neville looked up. "I can't tell you, Luna. It's not my place to tell. It's Harry's decision."

Luna looked down for a moment. "I see," she said softly. "I won't ask you to break Harry's trust."

"Thank you," Neville said gratefully. Then, wanting to change the subject, he said, "You know, I think I'm going to apply to St. Mungos for their Healer training program. I actually liked being able to heal Goyle the other day. Even if it was Goyle."

Luna brought her knees up to her chest. Neville noticed that she was wearing pants for the first time this year. The female students had put together a petition last year, and now had the option of pants or skirts.

"I always saw you working at a plant store," Luna said honestly. "Like the one in Diagon Alley. Or even opening one up yourself."

"I don't think I could ever run a shop myself," Neville said truthfully.

"I could help run a store," Luna said in a small voice.

"But what about your plans after school?" Neville asked. "You never talk about what you want to do."

"I've never really thought about it," Luna said sadly. "I always figured that I would work for Daddy until I become really sick in ten years or so."

Without thinking, Neville dropped his gardening spear, walked over to Luna and wrapped both of his arms around her tightly. She clung onto him tightly. Neville could swear he heard her heartbeat against his chest.

Neville hadn't done nearly enough research looking for a cure to Luna's disease over the past few weeks. He promised himself that he would spend as much time in the library as he needed to. It was for Luna, after all. If he could somehow find a cure; if not a cure, at least a stopper, so that she wouldn't get any worse…

Then Luna could do anything she wanted after Hogwarts.

-

A/N – So I'm sure for part of Ron and Neville's conversation, you were all like, "What? Catching the snitch? High hoop? What are they talking about?" The way I look at it, is that the wizarding world has to have a comparison to the muggle use of "Going round the bases," for gauging how far one has gone sexually with a partner.

Low hoop – First base

Central hoop – Second base

High hoop – Third base

Catching the snitch – Hitting a home run