Consequences

Harry and Neville walked out of the office. Sitting behind the register was George. He was concentrating quite hard on a book. Harry wasn't sure what the book was but he knew that George wasn't actually trying to read it anyway.

Neville broke the silence, uncertainty in his voice. "See you on the train Harry?"

"Yeah, Neville, have a good break." Harry played at being chipper. "Good to see you again."

Neville was distracted and heard Harry speak but couldn't make out the words as he passed out the door.

"So what did you hear?" Harry baited George. He said it calmly hoping he would get the truth right off.

"Uh, not sure what you're talking about Harry." George answered shakily.

Harry sensed the uncertainty in his voice and decided to guilt him into answering. "So why did you do it? Fred would have done it just because he could. Ron because he was jealous. Ginny to see what piece of gossip might be revealed. What is your reason?"

"I was surprised. I didn't know who you'd be meeting but I didn't expect it to be Neville. I kind of expected it to be a girl. When I saw it was Neville, king of forgetfulness and clumsiness I was surprised. I wanted to know what it was about.

"I was only going to listen for a second but then you said it was about a trip to the Department of Mysteries. I guessed that it was the same trip to the ministry when you-know-who showed up. I decided then that I had to listen. Only the people that were there know what really happened. And knowing the truth is important. At least I thought it was. But know I'm not so sure. I don't think I want to know what I heard. Some things are just better left unknown.

"I'm sorry Harry. I hope you can trust me. I'd understand if you want to Obliviate me."

A thin smile crept on to Harry's face at the last thing George said. "Unless you want to end up in St. Mungo's on a permanent basis I won't do that."

"No, I think I'll pass." George answered with a light chuckle.

The emotionless look coming back to Harry's face, he started talking again. "Trust, really what is it? I trusted Dumbledore and all I've gotten are half-truths. My parents trusted Peter. Sirius trusted Kreacher. The whole Wizarding world trusted the ministry. Dumbledore trusts Snape. Who trusts me? No one believed me about Quirrell, the basilisk, Sirius and Pettigrew, Cedric. And when they did believe me they didn't trust me enough to tell me why or what was really going on."

"Harry, come on. That isn't true. Neville surely trusts you. Ron and Ginny would do anything for you and I'm sure Hermione would too."

"Yeah, and what did it get them? Almost killed. I was that close to getting everyone I cared about killed in one fell swoop." A tear trickled down Harry's cheek.

"Bloody hell Harry. It isn't your fault. People don't do something unless they want to. Nobody has to do anything. They chose to trust you. You didn't make them do it. You may not have been right but you're okay and they're okay and that's what matters. Now what are we going to do about me and your secret?"

"What do you mean?" Harry looked up at George a little confused.

"I mean do you want me to swear a wizard's oath or something?"

"Oh." was all Harry could muster. He didn't really know what to do. He hadn't thought about it. He just thought about being betrayed by one more person. "No, that isn't necessary. Just don't say anything about any of it. But now that you know, you might expect me to ask a little more of you."

"Anything you want Harry. Now let's get you to the Burrow. You could use some of mum's food."

Neville walked back into Diagon alley from the Weasleys' store. He didn't know what to think. Harry had just told him that he had to kill Voldemort. Well, that is what he thought Harry had told him. Harry said there was more to it than that. But why would Harry tell him? His birthday was at the end of July like Harry's and the prophecy had mentioned the end of July as when the one that could kill Voldemort would be born. Was Harry saying that he could have been the one to face Voldemort? Was that why his parents had been tortured? Did Voldemort try to kill him too? No, it was Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters not Voldemort.

But, still what would have happened if it had been him. He and Harry were so different. Harry was popular, but he not so, singled out, picked on. He was forgetful, Harry consistent and dependable. Harry was a powerful wizard; he was nearly a squib. It made sense now, why was Harry that attacked all those years ago. But how could he have known then. And wouldn't it have been better for Voldemort to pick him, the weak one, instead of Harry?

Neville bumped into something hard. Looking up he saw a stone statue of a goblin. He was in front of Gringott's. Clear on the other side of Diagon Alley from the Weasleys' shop where he started. He wasn't sure how he made it this far and wasn't really sure where he wanted to go from here either. He wanted answers. Answers about what had happened fifteen years ago. The only people that might know the answers couldn't give them to him. They couldn't do much of anything. Still he decided to visit his parents. If for no other reason than to see them before he went home.

Neville entered the familiar lobby of St. Mungo's. He'd been here just last week on his birthday. Like Christmas, it was something he did every year. Only it was unusual for him to visit again so soon. He made his way through the suffocatingly sterile hallways and corridors to the Janus Thickey ward on the fourth floor. He looked in and could see his parents asleep at the far end of the room.

"Oh, Hello Mr. Longbottom." A nurse said with melodic sweetness." We weren't expecting you. They aren't awake. Would you like me to wake them for you?"

"Huh?" Neville replied a bit startled. "Um, no that isn't necessary. Thank you."

Neville trudged through the room past the other residents of the ward. He reached his parents beds and looking about for a place to sit, noticed a wooden chair sitting beneath the window at the foot of his father's bed. Neville dragged the chair between his parents' beds and sat down.

For the first few minutes, Neville just sat watching his parents. His mother had a pillow cradled in her arms as if it was a newborn baby. He was torn at this. She was stuck thinking of him as a baby, but he could tell she was happy. He however, had no memories of being held as a baby and felt guilty. But he knew he was too young when it happened to remember anything.

Meanwhile, his father wasn't so calm. Frank was rocking about in his bed. His eyes clenched shut in pain. His face contorted while his arms and legs were drawn into his chest and shaking. Neville knew exactly what was going on. The pain of the cruciatus curse was obvious it was something he would never forget. He was reliving his torture. He had never thought about his parents reliving it daily. Not sure what to do but wanting to comfort his father, Neville tentatively reached out. Suddenly Frank began to flail about violently. The back of a fist caught Neville across the face knocking him to the floor. Neville slowly climbed his way back into his chair.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice came from behind him. Neville turned to see the nurse from earlier.

"Uh," reaching up to feel his cheek and eye Neville replied. "I'm fine it just stings a little."

"You sure? I can take a look at it if you want?"

"No, I've had worse."

"Okay, if you change your mind I'll be here. You're actually kind of lucky it was only him having a fit. He's ten times worse when they're both doing it. It's almost over though, he's calm now almost trance like. In a second he'll start crying uncontrollably."

Neville was taken aback. This stranger knew more about his parents than he did. Not who his parents used to be, but who they were now. But it wasn't really surprising he only saw them twice a year. A muffled cry interrupted his thoughts. Looking at his father's bed, he saw him crying. His chest was heaving; tears poured unchecked from his eyes and strained breaths pushed through his nose. That did it. Neville couldn't take any more. A tear, repressed for as long as he could remember trickled down his cheek. Another soon followed joined by audible sobs. A minute later two arms embraced him from behind pulling him into a hug. He turned to see the persons face. He wanted to be left alone he didn't need their pity. But when he saw the persons face he stalled. There with her arms around him was his mother.

A/N: Thank you to the two people that reviewed and all the people that resulted in another 350 hits for the story. This chapter and the next one are probably going to be the most difficult to write as they are more about character issues than the story. With that said I am planning on updating onceevery twoor three weeks and updates will be posted Friday, Saturday, or Sunday which means this is a day late.

I've also decided that this will not be a prequell to Quadrangular Quidditch Qup. As some of the constraints created by the first chapter of that story on this one would only make this story too difficult to write without falling into the traps I did with that story.