Embracing His True Self

Chapter 46

Harry and Voldemort waited patiently for Elsmere to disappear, their reporter met them at different locations at different times to ensure they weren't detected by Dumbledore or his Order. Elsmere knew to be cautious, given what he was writing about in his articles. Today they'd had their meeting at the Cereal Killer Café in London, what could Harry say? He had an odd sense of humour to say the least. The red painted building stood out amongst its neighbours without its quirky name. The walls were lined with cereal boxes, and Voldemort had never been more uncomfortable in his life. This was the first non-magical setting they'd agreed to, and it barely showed, but Harry could sense it through their connection. Harry knew more about London by exploring when he had a chance now that he was actually free and able to come and go as he pleased. It was fun being able to investigate places he should have known growing up.

Both of them had glamour's up the wazoo upon their person, Elsmere knew this too. He had no idea who he was truly dealing with, or where they got their information. Oh, no doubt he'd tried to uncover who they truly were, but he was having absolutely no luck digging into their 'backgrounds' they would have had to have given them their true names for that. Which they hadn't but the reporter probably realized that weeks back. Still, it amused them so to watch him perplexed to the core as he sought answers to how they got their stories and why. Nothing more important than the actual articles of course.

"We will be going on lockdown before that article is published," Voldemort declared staring at the door the reporter had just exited.

"Lockdown?" Harry arched an eyebrow as he glanced swiftly at Voldemort, surprise splashed across his face, "As in what it sounds like? That sort of lockdown?" absently pushing his empty cup and saucer away with his fingers, the café was practically empty they didn't need to worry about being overheard. It's why he'd chosen this particular one, at this specific time, this was it's quiet time. Wondering if that had been done before, "You do that often?" he had to ask.

"Been decades since I did it last," Voldemort admitted shrewdly. "My Knights and their families were brought to a safe location."

"Now I'm curious…what did you do to cause you of all people to back down?" Harry asked, green eyes gleaming wickedly.

Voldemort shifted at the look, a spasm of discomfort disclosing on his face, "Abraxas Malfoy may have had something to do with the Death of the Minister of magic…in an overzealous attempt to impress," His voice barely audible as he revealed this titbit of information. "Nobby Leach was the first Muggle-Born Minister of Magic," confirming Harry's suspicions than the Minister of magic must have been either a threat or lesser blood.

"Of course," Harry murmured, slightly exasperated, what a waste of magical blood, at least Voldemort had conceded the errors of his ways. "So…lockdown?"

"Not here," Voldemort stated suddenly, as always his paranoia and suspicion forcing him to ensure safety above all things. Sitting vulnerable in Muggle London wasn't his idea of safe, you just didn't know what or who was watching you or listening to you. There were a whole host of magical devises that could be used in the vicinity. He would not risk Dumbledore getting what he wanted – which was him proven to be back – no, he wouldn't let anything get in the way of Dumbledore's comeuppance, his due punishment.

"What exactly happened to him anyway?" Harry queried as he easily and swiftly caught up with Voldemort's long strides as they walked out of the café, the money had jerkily been left under the saucer he'd used and a hell of a tip too.

"Dragon Pox," Voldemort informed him, knowing Harry well enough to know he definitely wasn't asking about how the Minister of Magic had died. "Before the vaccine was created, at his age…he didn't stand a chance." Turning into a side street, he grasped a hold of Harry and apparated them both to a field, checking themselves to ensure they hadn't been tracked before Apparating home.

"When the hell did he die if it was before the vaccine?" Harry gawped in surprise, "Just how new is the Dragon Pox vaccine?" he muttered under his breath, making a mental note to find out.

"Relatively new, the older generation did not inoculate against it, due to the fact it was barely passed it's experimental stages," Voldemort confessed, finally relaxing for the first time since they'd gone out. Trusting his own wards completely to be able to let his guard down at least slightly. Many chose to inoculate their children, saving their lives in the progress. Dragon Pox was a horrid disease and even more horrific way to die. Your magical core slowly drained, as you were unable to keep much of anything down, dizziness, weakness, spasms, until there was nothing left of the person you once knew. "Abraxas was one of those people, he wasn't one for caring about potions, or anything medical related. He stopped all donations that his father, Brutus, had made to St. Mungo's upon his father's death."

Harry didn't bother to question how Voldemort knew all this. Since he knew Voldemort's penchant for listening to absolutely everything, and then storing it away just in case it ever came in handy. "An epidemic? There aren't many older generation wizards or witches left…or did you get rid of them all?" being more sarcastic than serious at this point. He slid into his usual seat that he had silently reserved for himself when he was in Voldemort's office. It was right next to the fireplace, which was always lit up keeping the room comfortably warm.

"It did wipe out many wizards," Voldemort conceded, "And there are many more than you realize, most are just retired and living their lives, when exactly do you expect to see them? Waving off their grandchildren or Great-Grandchildren at Hogwarts? Or actually attending the school at an advanced age?" retorting with sarcasm of his own, as he sat down with a wry look on his face.

"Good point," Harry conceded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "I've only ever seen maybe two or three wizards who could be classed as the elder generation, which doesn't include you." Dumbledore, of course, Filch, Sprout although they might be a bit too young to be considered truly elderly. There was Dumbledore's brother, Neville's Gran, he had been wondering at the lack of grandparents that he'd seen. They were using the term 'wizards' in a unisex way, for both wizards and witches.

Voldemort nodded curtly, seeing it from Harry's point of view, it certainly would seem that there weren't many wizards of an advanced age around. However, he expected better of Harry, yet he shouldn't have, after all he wasn't all knowing, clearly some areas were still in desperate need of covering. He would find that out himself once he realized how many people were going to be around during his lockdown. He'd probably be sick of the sight of them within a few hours and wanting to escape. The thought certainly amused him so, as his lips unconsciously twitched in a rare show of his genuine emotions.

"You seriously think you need to have us going on a lockdown?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed, "Do you foresee the Order retaliating by what…hunting every single one of us down?" leaning back against the chair his arms crossed as he tapped his foot in quiet contemplation. "While the Order don't seem to care for the law…and are all too happy to break it…it's a trite different to think they'd start hunting people down in small gangs to get back at us," the idea did amuse him so.

"You truly don't realize the anarchy that follows home truths do you?" Voldemort said wryly, "Do you believe the Aurors merely hunted down Barty, Rabastan, Rodolphus and Bellatrix and handed them into the Ministry?"

Harry froze, "Well, I…I hadn't really thought about it." It did seem stupid when it was put like that.

"Oh, no, they weren't just heavy handed with them, they got their own retribution," Voldemort said icily, "But of course, nobody cared, they were just filthy 'Death Eaters' after all. Nor did anyone care about the innocent witches and children who died in the Auror's path to getting their revenge as they scoured the countryside looking for them."

After a few moments of stiff silence, Voldemort spoke again, "It isn't the first time the Aurors had been 'overzealous' in the pursuit of justice that caused the death of people." Thinking of his good friend who had lost a wife, the Lestrange brothers who had lost a little sister a family almost broken by their grief. Nobody was innocent, neither his Death Eaters nor the Auror's but the Auror's were supposed to be after all. They were there to police the magical world, to set an example.

Leaning forward, "Do you know if any of the Auror's are guilty of something like that? I mean this batch," Harry asked, a thoughtful look on his face, showing the things the Auror's have done…dragging them down to the Death Eaters' level…it would be devasting for the general public. It would make them question if they were any better…which of course, they weren't actually at the end of the day. Less and less people were becoming Aurors' according to his information Tonks was the only one in the past decade to get through the training. The only reason she actually got through was because of her abilities far outweighed the negatives of having the witch as part of their Auror team. She'd actually failed quite a few of the 'courses' the fact she got in just because she was a Metamorphamagus was damning. Hell they even used her family against her, as if there was something diseased about being a Black! He had been quite incensed when he read the classified information by Moody and the Minister of Magic – Cornelius Fudge – not so classified if he'd gotten his hands on it but he had contacts now who could get him whatever he needed. He didn't always have to rely on Voldemort to help.

"Moody and Kenyon with one hundred percent certainty, they're old school," Voldemort said, steeping his fingers together as he observed Harry curiously. He knew the boy well enough to know he was already planning something in that beautiful mind of his. He'd never had anyone who could think the way he did, or so quickly until now. "The Aurors in the Order have most certainly done the same…but will have better covered their tracks." They couldn't have vigilante justice signs waving around after all, the Ministry didn't approve of that.

"How many are in the Order again?" Harry asked, scribbling names on a spare piece of parchment.

"Three, two on active duty, one retired, Doge was a recruit for the force before he became a member of the Wizengamot and never formally completed his training, but he could be considered an honorary one, but that was even before my time." Voldemort stated dryly, Harry was already aware of this. "Get everything done by the end of tonight, we go on lockdown for at least a week."

"I don't know If I'll get away with that, Sirius will want to see me on my birthday," Harry said thoughtfully. Already thinking up ideas on what to tell his godfather. Hmm, his friends were throwing him a party, no doubt that would make Sirius very happy.

"Then visit today," Voldemort warned him, he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You may also want to get yourself new dress robes," the ones he had probably no longer fitted.

Harry stiffened, eyeing Voldemort cautiously, "Why?" not liking the sound of that, he was positive he heard an underlying sound of glee in Voldemort's tone.

"At least four, you will be attending the parties that are hosted by our own, it's not only a boost for moral but it allows those of us who don't interact actually get to know the other." Voldemort stated. Yes, he listened to Harry, and he was quite correct, it would build loyalty and rapport. His way of doing things worked fine enough, but he didn't want fine he wanted the best. Having them competing with each other he was beginning to find out wasn't conductive or conducive to a cohesive unit. His obsessions with the Prophecy and declining mental state back then so embarrassed him still. He was still trying to correct his many mistakes, but he'd get there. He made sure to do it his way though, the pureblood way. No holiday was more important than Samhain, all hallows eve, regretfully he doubted the boy would ever wish to celebrate that holiday.

He may just be surprised.

Harry's lip curled, his distaste evident, he made no secret to his aversion to such a plan. "Hell no," Harry proclaimed.

Voldemort just stared right back, he wasn't going to take no for an answer, "You will attend them," he warned the teenager, "You will also attend a party in your name, think of it as a coming out party, where I introduce you to all the Death Eaters and those who support our cause." He didn't let just anyone become a Death Eater, and he also didn't force the issue contrary to popular belief. He left those alone who did not fight him, those who were neutral or dark families who had no actual interest in war.

"Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you?" Harry muttered dryly.

"Are we going to pretend you're not as dark as the families who support my cause? Pretend you don't want me to win this war?" Voldemort asked icily. He loathed the games Harry liked to play, especially regarding his allegiance.

Harry sobered up a little, "I do not like being in the public eye, Voldemort," Harry said seriously, "I never will, I loathe the very idea of it." Revealing what was really bothering him about what Voldemort was saying.

"And that is why you should do it, embrace your fame, use it for your ends, at the end of the day…you have power at your fingertips that could change the world…power that most people could only dream out in their deepest darkest desires." Voldemort said, his voice seductive.

Harry just grinned wryly, very much aware of Voldemort's tactics and not buying into them even though it was tempting. Voldemort just had the ability to get under your skin, make you believe the ideas were your own. He'd seen it and quite frankly it was breath-taking to observe and annoying when he tries to pull it over him.

"Why are you so adverse to using your fame for your own ends?" Voldemort groused, although he'd deny it to his dying breath. "It's nothing different from using others to hide your own inclinations,"

"Now you're making me sound perverted," Harry said huffing out an amused chuckle as he stood up, opening the window to let Hedwig in, Neville had replied.

He moved to sit back down, and opened the missive, "Ooo, she's awake and extremely pissed," Harry muttered, green eyes gleaming victoriously, "Whatever Dumbledore did…didn't work on her either." She remembered everything according to Neville. If Voldemort was going on lockdown…then Harry was going to have to have everyone at Longbottom manor, including Luna and Hermione, their parents as well. they'd just have to weather the storm, plus this would be a bigger knock to Hermione's faith in the old fool having such light people declaring Dumbledore evil. He couldn't leave them unprotected and if the others couldn't watch over them…he had no choice.

It was time to return to Longbottom manor, see about getting Neville's agreement to get the others situated in the manor for safety. He had no doubt Neville would agree, he'd been desperate to have Luna there from day one. Luna hadn't agreed either, although Neville hadn't revealed the truth to Luna. About the attack from Dumbledore and the fact she was being watched.

"Does it say what she intends to do?" Voldemort asked, too many outside influences made him extremely leery. Especially when it came to Dumbledore and their plans.

"No, I'll find out soon enough," Harry declared. "I'm going to assume you aren't coming?" Augusta Longbottom had attended Hogwarts with 'Tom Riddle' and no doubt was aware of whom he became. One look and she'd either assume it was a son or the wizard himself. Neither would be a good thing right now, not in the light of her attack, she might try to persuade herself that her memories had been tampered with after all. She didn't seem like the kind of woman who would believe in such delusions and trusted her own mind.

"No, I must get everyone here before first light tomorrow morning," Voldemort stated, and that would be time consuming. Thankfully not much of a requirement where time was concerned on himself, it would be the families who were to come here that would be busy this afternoon.

Harry nodded, he'd suspected as much. "Alright, I'll see you later," if he was going to be on lockdown then he'd need to go visit Remus and Sirius before he came back too. It was suddenly dawning on him that it was going to be a very long day. Between visiting Neville, Luna, Hermione and getting them to safety, getting robes then visiting Sirius and Remus…he'd be lucky to get back after dinner. The tailoring of the robes would take a while, maybe he should tend to that first, pick them up once he was done for the night.

Standing up, he apparated on the spot, other than Voldemort only he had the ability to Apparate from the property at will. Even Barty had to Apparate outside the property.

An hour after leaving the manor, Harry gratefully escaped the clutches of the witches who were determined to make him buy more than the four robes he'd originally wanted. The bloody women had gotten their way, he'd bought seven sets of fancy ass dress robes. He'd been forced through choosing which material he wanted and the designs too. He didn't know about stuff like that, so he'd stood there quietly horrified. At least the witches had gotten amusement out of his predicament he grouched inwardly.

Shuddering in remembrance, he blinked at the sight of Neville standing there with a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand not too far away. He was staring away into the distance, Merlin, he was growing up, lost a lot of weight too, after the attack. Without thought, he made his way over to where Neville stood watching the distance a little vacant eyed.

"Girl trouble?" Harry asked, from behind the Longbottom heir who jumped in fright and squeaked.

"Harry!" Neville cursed, waving his now wet hand around which got sloshed with the hot beverage he had in his hand.

Harry laughed a little, "Sorry," he said in repentance.

"No, me and Hannah are mostly fine," Neville said, his cheeks going red, except for when it came to Luna then Hannah was being very illogical. There was nothing going on between them, Luna was a very good friend, that was it. They just didn't have any chemistry, not like he and Hannah did.

"Mostly, eh?" Harry said with just a note of question in his tone.

"She's got something against Luna," Neville sighed, brushing his hair in exasperation.

"No, Nev, she's insecure," Harry corrected him, "You and Luna are close, any woman would feel threatened, your relationship with Hannah is too new, she's just jealous I would bet. Over time she will grow used to Luna and realize herself that there's nothing to fear." He personally thought Hannah was good for Neville, bringing him further out of his shell, but he hadn't seen what they were like at Hogwarts so he didn't know for sure. Hannah was quite popular, a nosy gossip, believed what she heard, but was loyal and a generally a good person to those she cared about.

"Oh," Neville murmured, eyes wide, mouth opened in an 'O' he hadn't thought of that at all.

"She just needs your assurances, that's it," Harry added quietly. "How's your Gran?"

Neville laughed humourlessly, "Bloody pissed, it's a good job she can't get up yet otherwise she'd already be at the Ministry. I left her reading all the news clippings I saved of the Daily Prophet since we…well were attacked." She had looked ferally satisfied just reading what was happening to the Headmaster.

"The prophet tomorrow is going to be worse…it's time to bring the others here," Harry said quietly, "That's if you'll still have them?"

"What's wrong with your guards?" Neville asked, confused by the fact Harry now wanted to bring them here after adamantly stating they were safe for weeks.

"They're going to be called to other business by their boss," Harry revealed honestly, Neville assumed he had hired actual bodyguards for Luna and Hermione. He didn't bother dissuading him from that thought. "Couldn't have happened at a worse time…but at least they'll have somewhere to go." It would be easy enough to keep Mr. and Mrs. Granger occupied by extending their holiday while Hermione came here.

"They're welcome here, you know that…but you'll need to tell Hermione about the attack…she'll…well, she's always been a bit…" Neville paused unsure of the correct word to use.

"Too fond of Dumbledore?" Harry finished for him simplifying it.

"Let's go with that," Neville agreed, a worn-out look appearing on his face. "I used to be as well." rubbing at his face tiredly. The betrayal he still felt dragged him down and made him feel so much doubt and self-disgust. Dumbledore could have killed him and his Gran…they'd nearly died and not at the hands of Death Eaters or anything like that but a wizard he'd respected…a wizard his Gran knew and sort of respected. The attack hadn't been much of a shock to her as it had been to him. She never questioned her memories, she didn't go into denial she'd just gone straight to pissed off.

Harry said nothing, feeling a smidgen of guilt…how would Neville feel when and if he found out about his loyalties? Dumbledore had already changed Neville from his trusting happy bubbly self. What would his perceived betrayal do to Neville? Should he back away now so that it didn't hurt so much? Yet, as much as he thought about it…he couldn't force himself to. Just like he couldn't do it to Remus and Sirius. He was fond of them all, and wanted them in his life…for as long as he was able to have them.

"Want to help me convince them?" Harry asked wryly, knowing he had a hell of a time on his hands.

Neville snorted, "Tempting," he said in amusement, having no desire to get Hermione to listen to them, Luna would understand and believe them without a doubt. "Ah, alright, I'll help," he grumbled unable to help himself with the look of dread and discontent that was on Harry's face. He didn't have much else to do anyway. "Just let me tell the others and I'll come with."

"Thanks," Harry sighed in relief, considering Hermione's actions he did believe it wouldn't take much to convince her that he'd done something unspeakable. She was actually looking for proof of the allegations the Daily Prophet had made, according to Barty who had searched for anything he could find in order to see what she was up to. After all Harry had told Barty he'd find the answer wedged inside her books and journals. She'd also looked into Barty too, or rather his fake name but found nothing he was good at what he did.

"Be right back," Neville called as he hastily made his way inside.

Harry just waved him off, staring out at the distance much like Neville had been doing when he apparated. He had no idea how long his allegiance would be safe from discovery. He wasn't ashamed, far from it, he was just…he had people he cared about on the opposite side. Or had been, Neville and he hadn't spoken about it, but Neville would never go dark, or neutral, not after what happened to his parents.

Severus hadn't been around often, so they had no idea how Dumbledore was reacting to the constant barrage of bad press. The Daily Prophet wasn't going easy on him, not that he wanted them to. He would though, like to know what Dumbledore was doing, what he was planning. He hadn't gotten to where he was by being impatient or impulsive. No, he would have things in the works, and that didn't sit well with him.

At least those he cared about would be spared any retribution when it came to Dumbledore's schemes. Or would be soon enough, he just had to get them to the safety of Longbottom Manor. Which was the safest place they could be, he was after all the Secret Keeper, and unlike Pettigrew he would keep that secret, even if it meant his death. His loyalty wasn't easy to achieve, but when you had it…it was for life.

Hearing footsteps brought Harry out of his musings, to find Neville making his way back to him. He had changed, put on clothes that would fit in with the Muggle crowd. No cloak, just a jumper that wouldn't raise any eyebrows. Nodding to Neville, letting him know he appreciated the effort, "I'll take us there," he informed Neville, he knew where Hermione stayed after all, although it would probably come as a shock to her since she probably didn't realize he knew her address.

"Sure," Neville murmured his agreement, he unlike Harry didn't have his Apparation licence yet, and wouldn't until the day after his birthday where he was already scheduled to take his test so he could pass.

Harry grasped a hold of Neville's shoulder and apparated them both away from Longbottom manor.

Neville immediately grimaced and began coughing, "Where the hell…" he trailed off, shuddering in disgust, this place looked as though it was going to fall in any moment. There were wooden panels on all the windows, corrugated metal slates on the roof, the brick walls looked ready to topple. The door and wooden panel had been ripped off, letting the elements at it. "Where are we?"

"Five streets from the Granger residence," Harry explained as he immediately jumped over the puddle of water that was taking up nearly half the property. "This place used to be a garage, it's long since been abandoned, the land though…belongs to me," he confessed as he strode with purpose.

"Why?" Neville blurted out as he forced himself to keep up with Harry's long strides. "Why do you want this place?" it looked more trouble than it was probably worth. Then again he didn't know how much land Harry had gone and bought. "You already have a manor, unless you're going to build properties to sell or rent out to the Muggles? None of the Pureblood's bother doing that, they hate anything remotely surrounded by Muggles." Their own properties spanned miles and miles away from the closest Muggle population, well most of them, the Black's had lost their manor, nobody knew how, but they'd had to start using their townhouse. Urgh, he hated all this useless information he had stored in his mind, his Gran had drilled it into him, along with any other pieces of 'gossip' she pretended not to be interested in.

"That's why their fortune isn't as great as it could be," Harry said scathingly, oh, they had plenty of money, sure, but not as much as they could get from the Muggles. Their disgust for them shouldn't get in the way of the monetary value Muggles were worth. There were so many more of them than there was wizards ergo, they were worth more when it came to the grand scheme of things. He wanted to create another Hogsmeade, but bigger, better, to do that he had to buy a lot of land and make his way from there. He said nothing about this to Neville though, there was no reason to tell him, he trusted Neville only to an extent…mostly because he knew their friendship was probably fleeting, like ships in the night.

"That and their need to blackmail and bribe." Neville added with a grimace, it was never ending Pureblood policies and politics, it was a wonder they had any fortune left the lot of them. The fact they didn't have many family members and most had self-sustaining farms with animals and vegetable patches too. Following Harry down yet another street, he'd said three, so they should be closing in on the Granger residence soon.

"They aren't unique, Neville, the muggles do the exact same thing," Harry snorted, "Welcome to the world of politics," which did mesmerise him but not to the extent he'd want to be involved with it.

Neville just shrugged, he knew next to nothing about Muggles, just the outdated information they learned in Muggle studies class. The only reason he knew it was outdated was because of those he knew who had been raised in the Muggle world. Like Hermione and Harry, they found the class pretty ironic really and a huge waste of time. "This is Hermione's street?" he asked, gazing at the properties which were quite big in comparison to the houses they'd passed by already.

"Yep," Harry said, glancing briefly at where Neville was, "Hermione's parents are well off, they've got their own dental practise, it's a good job really…can you imagine what it would have been like without her? And only four grants a year is awarded to those who need it at Hogwarts…and that went to the Weasley's as it has been for the past decade, if her parents hadn't been able to afford the tuition she'd have missed out."

Neville's jaw dropped, "Only four?" he rasped out, wide eyed, "But people will money for scholarship funds! There should be enough for more than just four grants!" too shocked to wonder how the hell Harry knew any of this information.

"Yep," Harry agreed, "Makes you wonder where the hell the money is going doesn't it?" Harry said giving Neville a pointed look.

Neville's breath stuttered as he figured out what Harry was silently trying to tell him, "No!" he whispered, horrified.

"Why the look?" Harry asked amusement tinging his voice. "Honestly, you'd think you hadn't been reading the Daily Prophet."

"I just…sort of assumed some of it was…embellished for sales," Neville sighed deflating almost exhaustedly.

"Even knowing what the fucking hell he did to you and your Gran?" Harry asked, sounding extremely pissed off.

"Oh, come on! It's not that far off, I mean look at what they did and said about you!" Neville protested, "The Prophet has a propensity to aggrandise the hell out of an incident." Never once getting nervous about Harry's mood, he trusted him, plus his moods had been all over the place during their fifth year – well, the amount of time he'd actually attended anyway – which wasn't long either that or the time without him had felt even longer.

"Point," Harry grumbled in discontent, it was true and he wasn't above admitting when he was wrong. He turned and opened the gate to Hermione's house and wandered up the path. The garden was neat and tidy, flowers blooming along the paths and under the windows, grass immaculately kept.

Once they arrived Harry rang the doorbell and waited impatiently. This was going to be a long afternoon trying to convince Hermione of anything.

The door swung open a minute later, it was Hermione, she stood there blinking at the sight of both Harry and Neville surprised beyond belief at their appearance. "Harry…Neville…what…what are you doing here?" she asked, astonishment gleaming in her eyes, "Er…come in!" she added remembering her manners.

"We need to talk to you," Harry stated firmly, grim countenance telling Hermione it wasn't a good conversation they were about to have.

Hermione led them to the living room, which was the same as the garden, well kept and immaculate. There was an entire wall decorated with awards and books, a laptop closed under the table and many other muggle items in nature that Neville probably had no clue about. Including a mobile phone that was currently on charge nearby a cordless house phone. He hadn't even thought about Hermione having a laptop or a mobile, pretty stupid of him he supposed.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked, as she wordlessly invited them to sit down.

"I'm fine," Harry replied immediately, while Neville nervously said "No thanks," very much feeling out of his element here in the Muggle world.

"So, what's going on?" Hermione asked, Harry obviously wasn't here to patch up their friendship. She had hoped for a moment that was what it was, but it was a foolish hope she knew better. While they wrote to each other, it was stilted, as neither knew how to get over the gap between them now.

Neville glanced at Harry waiting to see if he was going to explain or if he should tell Hermione what happened to him weeks ago.

"Longbottom manor is under the Fidelius Charm, I would like it if you'd go with Neville and be safe," Harry stated, "It's too dangerous for you to be here, you can convince your parents to extend their holiday a little."

"What? No, why would I do that?" Hermione protested, "Do you know something I don't? Are my parents in danger?" or rather more danger than came naturally towards a wizard prejudice towards Muggles. Although oddly enough, there hadn't been any attacks, she kept up with all Muggle and Wizard publications. If Harry hadn't seen him – and she believed he had – then she would question whether Voldemort was back or not.

Harry leant forward, pinching the bridge of his nose as he eyed Hermione, "Look, you seriously need to listen to me and do as I suggest," he informed her seriously. "The information in the Daily Prophet…it's not lies…the truth goes much deeper than that. Dumbledore is getting desperate to find me…he's going to unpredictable lengths to do so."

"What do you mean? What lengths?" Hermione asked, biting her lip to stop herself asking a million more questions at least until Harry actually answered the ones she truly wanted answered.

"Dumbledore attacked Augusta and Neville nearly a month ago," Harry revealed sitting back arms crossed just waiting for the denial to hit Hermione's face.

"It's true, he did, I can show you the memory, Hermione, we wouldn't lie about this! You know I wouldn't." Neville said in a rush immediately after Harry finished speaking. "My Gran wouldn't be easily fooled by a confundus charm or even a memory charm or anything like that…not that they'd work she wears the ring of Lady Longbottom." He didn't need to reveal anything more than that, he was sure Hermione understood the workings of the rings better than most teens her age, except maybe Harry who had his own.

Hermione shook her head dazedly, "But…why?" Hermione's voice broke, she just couldn't understand.

"Because Dumbledore wants me back, at any cost, he knows we're friends, he knew I'd return if anything happened to you, to Neville hell even Ron or Luna." Harry revealed, slightly surprised that Hermione wasn't denying it. He had come here expecting to take hours to convince Hermione to come. Yet here she was…saddened, stunned, but nonetheless actually listening to them? What the hell had she found out about Dumbledore again? He would have to ask Barty what that information was as soon as he was able. Hermione didn't know about the Prophecy, only so many people did. Dumbledore, Neville, Augusta, Voldemort, Severus and him…maybe the Order and probably the Death Eaters in the inner circle. Whether they knew the contents or not…he had absolutely no idea and didn't really care.

Hermione pursed her lips, her mind drifting to the years at Hogwarts unconsciously. Like a film reel the information played quickly and swiftly. The stone, Hagrid, Gringotts, the interference, the fact the trials were so easy for them to get by, the suggestion Dumbledore had let it happen, how Ron had been hurt to help them, how Harry had been alone to face the monster who killed his parents. Their second year, the fact she had figured it all out, how Harry suggested Dumbledore was bound to have known, Lockhart, then everything in their third year, Sirius, Peter, Remus, the time-turner, Buckbeak, the Dementors, then everything that happened in their fourth year, the tournament, Harry's placement, Dumbledore's indignation when he began to attack Moody, that anger hadn't been genuine she realized, not after seeing the real deal earlier that year when Harry's name came out…how could she have been so blind? Had he known who Moody was all along? Even after he showed the Cruciatus Curse to Neville? Her stomach churned unpleasantly, she felt sick to her stomach.

At long last the blinders had been removed. She could see for the first time what Harry was feeling and seeing.

"How genuine do you believe the threat is?" Hermione asked urgently, concerned for her parents…if Dumbledore could attack Augusta and Neville who knew how far he was willing to go?

"The threat is real, whether he'd do it…I honestly don't know Hermione that man is capable of anything," Harry said grimly.

"Pack everything, Hermione, come with me, just to be safe, I have a huge library at your disposal you can read anything you like." Neville coaxed her.

Harry's lips twitched as Hermione's eyes widened and an avarice gleam entered her eyes. Oh, she was hooked, he'd need to thank Neville for that one.

"Um…give me ten minutes, I'll write to my parents, and pack everything I'll need," Hermione said standing up, hardly waiting for either of them to answer before she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Nice bit of manipulation there, Nev," Harry said wryly, "Never thought you'd have it in you."

"That's such a dirty word," Neville complained, shifting as his face flushed red at the praise. All he'd done was entice her with full access to the Longbottom library.

Harry laughed humourlessly, "You'd be right there, it can be," he sighed, "But if it keeps her safe who the hell cares?" it was better than Dumbledore killing her. Or as safe as she could be considering she was always going to be as 'light' as they come and liable to fight the changes that would come with Voldemort in charge.

True to Hermione's word, ten minutes later she was already packed to go. "Neville does your Gran have an owl?" Hemione asked, she regretfully didn't, but to get this letter to her parents – with the charm to make them stay – so they would remain safe. She didn't want to believe Dumbledore was capable of this, she'd looked up to him for so long…yet she knew Neville would never lie, and surely an adult wouldn't blame without proof plus she has the ring on, it stopped a lot of spells and curses working…the mind-altering charm (Obliviate) was one of those spells.

"We have five owls at the Manor," Neville explained, shrugging his shoulders indifferently, one of them was actually his, and it was the one his Gran sent letters with to Hogwarts for him. To let him spend time with his owl, who had been with him since he was nine years old. He'd chosen to come to Hogwarts with his newest pet, a gift for doing magic, his frog Trevor. He'd been eleven years old, what could he say? He hadn't brought the frog to Hogwarts for the past three years, not that anyone actually noticed except Harry. He'd actually asked him if his frog was alright, even remembered his name.

"Is it okay if I use one?" Hemione asked politely.

"Of course, you don't have to ask, I'll show you to the Owlery when we get back, do you want to head there now?" Neville asked, catching the look of confusion that flashed over Hermione's features momentarily. "We plan on getting Luna as well."

"I do want to get this to my parents as quickly as possible, they're due to start heading home tomorrow," Hermione explained in a rush, and who knows how long it would take the owl to get to them.

"Say no more," Neville said with a small smile, "We'll drop you off and head for Luna,"

Without more ado or say, Harry apparated them all back, verbally informing Hermione about the location of Longbottom manor, causing it to appear in front of her in its grand splendour.

"Here, this is just in case I'm not here tomorrow," Harry said, handing over a brightly wrapped package, which he withdrew from his pocket. It was a birthday gift, and if Voldemort did go into lockdown then he might not be able to get away.

"You didn't have to," Neville said, warmth pooling in his stomach, he didn't receive many birthday gifts, he didn't have many friends. This was…unexpected but very, very appreciated. "Thank you, Harry," he murmured unconsciously stroking the package reverently.

Hermione bit her lip feeling awful, she hadn't realized it was Neville's birthday tomorrow. She'd need to slip away and get something for him. No, she best not, if she was found out Harry would be beyond pissed off. She had a magazine, she could have something Owl ordered by tonight.

She'd just need to try and figure out what he'd like, she'd do it immediately after they were gone and she had the letter off to her parents.

Harry patted Neville on the back grinning at him, "It's fine, sixteen years old…if you're anything like me though…you're probably feeling ancient." By the end of his speech he had sobered a little.

Neville let out a little bark of laughter, "Not as old as you feel," he teased, aware that both were confessing to feeling older than just their young ages of sixteen. Many of their classmates wouldn't understand…they hadn't been through the same thing as he and Harry and to find out it was because of a stupid bloody prophecy? It was bloody gutting is what it was.

"Where's your Gran?" Harry asked as they walked up the steps into the manor.

"Um…she was in the drawing room," Neville explained, "She may be in the business room though," she had a lot of catching up to do when it came to the entirety of the Longbottom Estate. He had tried to help and did what he could, but the rest…well the rest had to be done by his Gran.

"You get Hermione settled then I'll go talk to your Gran," Harry suggested, "Just come find me when you're done? I'll talk to you before I leave for the night Hermione, and answer what questions you have. There's no point doing it yet, not when we might have to repeat the process with Luna." Which was a flat out lie, Neville knew it too judging by his sudden poker face. Luna would never call them a liar, if they said something, she'd believe it, because she fully trusted both of them.

"Okay," Hermione said, clutching her trunk before going back to gazing around the manor in awe, overwhelmed by the splendour that Neville had grown up around. Her mind was still reeling over everything she'd been told and realized in the past half hour – just half an hour! – Merlin help her, she believed them, Dumbledore had attacked Neville, the most gentle soul she knew. It was horrifying.

"Follow me, I'll show you to your room and the Owlery, I shouldn't be longer than fifteen to twenty minutes, Harry," Neville explained before they split up, Neville and Hermione went towards the stairs, Neville calling on a House-Elf to take the trunk blatantly ignoring the glare on her face.

Harry however, just chuckled knowing Hermione's hackles had been raised before he made his way to the drawing room to see Lady Augusta Longbottom. The last time he'd seen her…well, he wouldn't be surprised she didn't want him here.

Will Draco find out at the party or will he be informed before so that Lucius isn't 'embarrassed' by his son who he knows loathes the ground Harry walks on? Will it be enough to stop any of Draco's shenanigans and make him try to cosy up to harry or will he end up in trouble due to his inability to see that he isn't worth as much as he believes himself to be? Read and Review please

He was about to find out regardless.