Chapter Nineteen – Semantics

Silence settled over the Room of Requirements. Neville looked at Harry, trying to gauge what his friend would tell the group. Everyone was there, even Draco. Draco was sitting in the chair between Luna and Ginny.

To be honest, Neville wasn't quite sure why Harry had gathered them all together. Neville had asked, but for some reason, Harry wasn't telling.

At the moment, Harry seemed to content to say nothing. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he and Ginny were looking at each other.

Hermione took a deep breath and cleared her throat. Suddenly all eyes in the room were on her.

"I need to know what you left out of the prophecy, Harry," Hermione said slowly.

Harry's mouth dropped. "What?" he asked.

"You've left something out. I know it. I've racked my brain for weeks now, and I can't see how a prophecy would be made saying simply that you were going to be born. It doesn't add up," Hermione said.

Neville watched Harry carefully. Harry stared at his hands for a moment and stayed silent.

"What haven't you told us, Harry?" Hermione asked. Her voice shook slightly. "I can't help you unless I know everything. I just want to help. Harry."

Luna looked over at Neville. Her legs were curled underneath her and she looked worried.

"Fine," Harry said, standing up quickly. He turned his back to the group. "It says that I have to kill Voldemort or Voldemort will kill me."

To Hermione's credit, all she said was, "May I have the exact wording, please?"

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

"You have to kill Voldemort?" Ron asked. "Harry…"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you!" Harry shouted. "Now you're all going to act weird around me."

Because of Harry's outburst, no one seemed to notice Hermione, whose eyes were slowly filling with tears. Neville watched her wipe them off with the back of her hand and start writing in the notebook that she brought.

"You wanted to know, Hermione," Harry said. "Say something."

"Kill or be killed isn't the only choice, Harry," Hermione said, not looking up, but still writing. She sounded like she was trying to keep herself from crying loudly. "Kill, be killed, or both be killed. The first definition of either is one or the other. The second is one and the other, each."

"You mean they both die," Ginny said, looking at Hermione in horror.

"Great," Harry muttered under his breath. He flung himself back into his chair. "So of the three possible outcomes, I die in two of them. Just bloody great."

Hermione seemed to be more in control of herself now. "You know we'll do everything to make sure that doesn't happen, Harry."

"I know," Harry said softly.

Hermione closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate. A moment later, a thick book appeared in her lap.

"What's that?" Luna asked interestedly.

"A dictionary," Hermione said sheepishly. "I did say only through the Gs are memorized. I want to check the definition of neither."

"You've memorized the bloody dictionary?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes. "Only you, Granger."

Hermione ignored him while she flipped through the pages. "Neither. Not either one; not the one or not the other."

"So basically what we knew," Ginny said, taking a deep breath. "They either kill each other or they're both killed."

"Something doesn't seem right," Hermione said. "I'm missing something. I want to hear the prophecy in its entirety."

"The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. 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 know not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives," Harry recited dully.

Hermione closed her eyes. Neville could tell she was concentrating as hard as she could. After almost a minute, she slumped down in her chair and said, "The answer's right in front of me. I can tell. I just don't see it."

"Well, it's pretty obvious if you ask me," Draco said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is it now?" Ron asked defensively. "You're telling me that you can figure out the prophecy and Hermione Granger can't?"

Draco rose slightly from his chair and then lowered himself again. "Yes, I am."

"Let's hear it then," Hermione said briskly.

Draco shrugged. "Neville's the Other," he said simply.

"What?" Harry asked.

"The Other?" Neville said softly.

"Look, I know more than you think thanks to Luna," Draco said. Harry and Ron both gave Luna a pointed look. Luna simply smiled dreamily at them. "I know that the prophecy could be about you or Neville. I think it's about both of you."

"How's that possible?" Ron asked.

"Think about it, Weasley," Draco said. "Either must die. Like Hermione said, one and the other, each. Meaning the Dark Lord and Potter. At the hand of the other. At the hand of Neville, the Other."

Ginny put her hands over her mouth. "You mean Neville would have to kill one of them?"

As soon as Neville heard Ginny say that, he felt sick, like he was going to throw up. "That can't be right," he said weakly.

"It's not," Hermione said. Neville felt himself relax a bit. "If we use the actual definitions, Neville would have to kill both Voldemort and Harry."

Luna reached out and took Neville's hand. But Neville jumped up, out of his chair. "I'm not killing Harry!" he shouted.

"Neville, we'll figure this out," Ron said, standing up. "Malfoy probably got it wrong."

"I'm sure that's not what it means," Ginny added.

"Malfoy's right," Harry said dully.

"What?" almost everyone asked in unison.

"The last line of the prophecy," Harry said, looking down at his feet.

"'And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives,'' Hermione asked. "Harry, it's semantics. We'll figure it out."

"That's not the last line," Harry answered. He looked at Neville. "The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

"I don't remember that line," Neville said weakly.

"That's because I thought it didn't mean anything. I thought the prophecy was just repeating itself. But it's not! Why would the prophecy say that twice unless it was talking about two different people?" Harry practically roared.

"Harry," Neville said softly. "Remember what Dumbledore said."

"What?" Harry snapped.

"Fate hasn't decided yet," Neville said.

"What in the world do you mean?" Ginny asked.

Neville lifted the hair off of his forehead and showed the group the scar that was forming.

"Oh my goodness," Hermione said, putting her hand over her mouth.

Neville and Harry simply looked at each other for a moment. He was simply only beginning to understand the enormity of what had been just placed on his shoulders.

"So one of us will have to kill the other," Neville said.

"And the baddie," Ginny added, obviously trying to lighten the mood in the room, which had become very somber. "Not much point in killing each other if you forget to kill him."

Harry smiled slightly and took Ginny's hand. Everyone had heard the sadness in Ginny's voice. Luna was squeezing Neville's hand very tightly. The pressure felt good, kept him focused. Because right now, all he wanted to do was curl up and hide from the world.

But Neville also realized that hiding was the worst possible thing he could do. Not if he wanted to destroy you-know-who. Of course, until that very moment, Neville hadn't realized that defeating Voldemort could mean his very life.

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A few hours later, Neville was lying under a table in the Greenhouse. Luna had asked him to take a walk after they all left the Room of Requirements, but Neville wanted to be on his own. So he went to the Greenhouse. For a while, he was happy, sleeves rolled up, putting his hands in the earth. But then an overwhelming panic washed over him, causing him to take shelter underneath the table.

The door opened, and Neville recognized Luna's flip flops. He never did understand why she would wear flip flops in the beginning of February. Neville kept himself quiet, but felt guilty while doing it. He had never purposely hid from Luna before.

"I know you're under the table," she said softly.

Neville said nothing.

A moment later, she was kneeling next to him. "Move over," she said, placing her hand on his cheek.

"Luna…" he said. "I really want to be alone right now."

"Well, then we have a problem don't we? Because I desperately want to be near my boyfriend right now," Luna said matter of factly. "So who wins? Do you get to be alone? Or do I get to be with my boyfriend?"

"You win," Neville muttered under his breath, moving over, giving her enough room to lay down next to him.

Luna laid down on her side, using Neville's outstretched arm as a pillow. Neville then turned on his side, and held her close.

"Would it help if I said I didn't believe in prophecies?" Luna asked.

"You don't believe in them?" Neville said hopefully.

"I do, actually," Luna said. "But I'll try not to believe in them if you want me to."

"Don't change your beliefs because of me," Neville said, stroking Luna's hair.

"I don't want you to die," Luna said.

"I don't want you to die, either," Neville countered.

Luna turned around and faced him. "I know, but I'm supposed to die first. We've known all along that I will die in ten years or so," Luna said. "You're supposed to live forever."

"No one can live forever," Neville said seriously.

"Living another hundred years seems like forever," Luna said softly. "Forever and ever."

"Luna…" Neville said weakly, but trailed off. How in the world could he comfort her even a little bit when inside he was a mess?

"Don't say anything," Luna said softly. She held him tighter and rested her head against his chest. "If I'm going to lose you earlier than expected, I'm going to enjoy every moment."

The way Neville felt right then, those words sounded like pretty good advice.

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Neville stared at the canopy over his bed, wishing sleep would wash over him. All Neville and Harry did was share a look when Neville walked back into the common room. Moments later, Harry went up to bed while Neville still had some homework to do.

The Other. The words sounded so strange, yet made so much sense. All his life, even a bit now, to tell the truth, Neville felt like an outsider. Harry was one choice. The famous one. The one everyone in the wizarding world had heard about.

And then there was Neville. A self proclaimed nobody. The other choice.

Neville finally felt his eyelids getting heavy. The much sought after sleep fell over him like a blanket. His parents filled his dreams tonight. He saw them as they were years ago. He saw them in their current state. His mother kept trying to tell him something, but didn't yet have the words. A Remembrall was flashing in her hands.

In his dream, he was in the hospital ward with his parents. But slowly the landscape changed. He was sitting in an oversized chair, staring at a fire. Neville reached out his hand and felt the cool, familiar scales. There was an anger in him, an anger unlike one he had ever known.

"What news have you?" Neville asked in a cool, calculating voice.

"My Lord," someone whimpered. "It was destroyed…"

"But what?" Neville asked, trying to control his anger. His eyes moved to the snake besides him, and Neville let his long, pale fingers pet the snake.

"They moved the target. We couldn't break him," the man said. Neville could hear the fear in the man's voice. The cowardice infuriated him!

"Very well," Neville said, controlling his anger. "We will find another way to punish him."

"Yes, sir, thank you, my Lord," the voice said.

"Wormtail?" Neville asked.

"Yes, my Lord?" Wormtail asked.

"It was your idea to strike there, wasn't it?" Neville asked, slowly taking his wand from his robe.

The man was practically sobbing now. "Wormtail, you know not answering will lead to more pain, don't you? Haven't I taught you that after all these years?" Neville said in practically a fatherly tone.

"Yes, my Lord, it was my idea," Wormtail sobbed.

"Then it's you who must be punished," Neville said, pointing his wand at the pathetic creature in front of him. "Crucio!"

Neville threw back his head and laughed. He felt power surging through his veins. He would not be defeated!

"Neville, wake up!" someone shouted, shaking him madly.

Suddenly Neville was back in his own bed. "Are you okay?" Dean asked, concerned. Neville was dizzy, but still heard screaming. It took a moment to realize that the screaming wasn't coming from his bed, but from Harry's.

Ron was standing over Harry, who was twitching violently, trying to wake him up.

Neville's head was pounding, feeling like it was about to rip in two. The more Harry thrashed about, the more pain Neville felt. Finally, Ron slapped Harry violently across the face and Harry was still.

Dean took Neville's arm and helped him into a sitting position. Seamus was standing next to Ron, staring at Neville like he was scared of him.

"What's going on?" Harry asked weakly.

Neville rubbed his forehead. The pain had subsided substantially, but still lingered.

"What's going on?" Seamus asked angrily. "What's going on is that you both started screaming at the same bloody time. I thought you were both going to die or something."

"Sorry," Neville muttered under his breath. With a great amount of effort, he got out of bed and started walking towards the door. Ron helped Harry out of bed and followed him. Silently they walked to the common room. Ron in the middle, supporting both Harry and Neville.

"What the hell happened back there?" Ron asked once Neville and Harry were sitting down.

Neville and Harry looked at each other. "Did you have an intense moment with Luna tonight?" Harry asked, with a slight grin.

Without meaning to, Neville laughed a bit, while blushing at the same time. "Maybe," he admitted.

"It had to be you mate," Harry said. "Ginny had too much homework to do to take a walk with me."

"Harry," Neville said seriously. "I think I was You-Know-Who in a dream."

"With Wormtail?" Harry asked. "Talking about punishing someone?"

Neville nodded. "That's the one."

"I had the same dream," Harry said. "At the same time."

"What's that mean?" Ron asked.

"That Dumbledore's right," Harry said. "Neville and I are both connected to Voldemort now."

A few minutes later the three friends went back up to bed. Neville might have closed his eyes, but no more sleep came to him that night.

Not when he was afraid he'd open his eyes in his dream and see Voldemort's hands again.