A/N: So, I didn't want to leave you all without a chapter for months, but recently things in my own life have made writing a bit difficult, and I'm not going to lie, I'm having a bit of project burnout! Writing this series is difficult and the fact that I've been at it since 2019 has been a bit exhausting. I do hope you enjoy this chapter for what it is though, and if you do, please be sure to Follow, Favorite, and Review!

Chapter XII: Promises Kept

(Neville P.O.V)

Neville's feet dangled off the astronomy tower. His wand was placed at his forehead to help cool the lump on his forehead he'd gotten from Peeves' shenanigans. It turned out that a phantom with an uncanny ability for spell evasion was a bit harder to capture than he'd first thought. It was an embarrassment, really, Harry led an entire resistance, and Neville, he'd been duped y a ghost.

The Hogwarts Ghosts had never been hard to find. In fact, ghosts like Nearly-Headless Nick were always far too happy to share their opinion on things. But when they wanted to disappear, nobody could do it better... well... maybe except thestrals to the unscarred eye. Worse yet, though the ghosts liked to be at Hogwarts, he'd been unfortunately informed by Hermione that they were free to go wherever they please. Hogwarts had just been a place of convenience.

"Damn," Neville whispered, a forced smile on his lips, "I really am a colossal fuck up."

"Don't let Ms. Granger catch you saying that, she might even take more offense than I do at that remark." The voice was calm and familiar. Neville recognized the tone of the plump woman instantly. Only one person in the castle had that melodic ring to her voice, and Neville hunched forward at the witch's approach.

The witch pulled down on her patched, battered hat that sat loosely above her short, grey, wavy hair. The dirt from the greenhouse still coated her yellow robes, and warmth glowed behind her milk-chocolate brown eyes. "Sorry, Professor, I hadn't realized it was past curfew already. I'll return to the Common Room im-"

"This is hardly the first time you've been out past curfew, Mr. Longbottom. I've elected to ignore it for quite some time." His Head of House, Professor Sprout, said, "Quite frankly, for you specifically, I will continue to overlook it. Headmistress McGonagall has kept me updated with the efforts you've undergone to help prepare students for what might come their way and the pressures you are under. I simply came to check on you when you weren't at dinner. A growing young man such as yourself needs to eat."

"Not really all that hungry, Professor," Neville said. He chuckled to himself, "God, I sound just like Harry. If only I could be as good a leader as him then maybe things woulda worked out."

"You're right," Sprout said. "I mean, I don't particularly know precisely what it is you're talking about, but Harry Potter was gifted with leadership abilities few innately have. You, Mr. Longbottom, don't have those." Neville's eye sank towards the grounds below but sprung at his professor's touch on his shoulder. "You do, however, have a heart that's larger than any other I've witnessed. I needn't look any further than how you tend to plants that other wizards don't even consider alive like we are. Your compassion is your strength, Neville. Your ability to slip into other people's shoes in an instant. It's a gift unique to you. Don't spoil it by comparing your skills to that of others. I fear to say this to the younger children, but when the time comes, I sense we'll all have a role to play."

A role to play, Neville murmured to himself, Step into another's shoes. His head of house's words rattled in his mind, and slowly, Neville felt electricity race through his veins. I know where she went!

"Professor, that's it; I've got an idea! Rowena Ravenclaw, do you know where her grave is?" Neville asked. Professor Sprout's brow furrowed, "Sorry, I was thinking about what you said about me being able to put myself into other people's shoes. So I tried to think to myself what I would do if I was Helena and... that's not important, just, are you aware of where Rowena Ravenclaw is buried?"

"Of course, she's buried in the glens of Scotland with her family but-"

"Thank you Professor," Neville said but stopped mid-run from the touch on his shoulder.

"Neville, I'm not a hundred percent sure what your mission from Harry is, but I do hope you'll be careful."

"I will, Professor, I promise," Neville said before he ran out of the Astronomy Tower with great haste.

The glens of Scotland were beautiful. Neville almost felt a bit sour that it had been a mission and that he'd come alone. He couldn't shake the idea of how much Hermione would have loved the fresh air and clear fields that dipped only for the many pools of lakes and rivers. It was a lot of land, but thankfully, the house-elf had done Neville a great service before she'd off and vanished. Had he been alone, Neville may not have even had a clue where to start. But, the single blue and bronze cottage in the distance where powerful magic radiated from had made the search a lot easier.

His time with Michael and Harry had left Neville in good shape, but that didn't stop his heavy breaths when he finally arrived at the gates of the cottage. Neville could only call himself an idiot when he tried to push against the black iron gate. The magic flung him away further than any knockback jinx had ever managed. A bruise already began to form against his chest, and Neville picked himself up with a grunt.

Neville had spent what felt like an hour, though it was only a few minutes, on a way to break the barrier. Neville never cared much for combat, but he knew his spells weren't weak. He couldn't help but smile at the way the gate batted away his continuous assault with ease. I guess they wouldn't have been founders if this was easy. But then again, do I even need to break it.

He turned his back to the gate and looked over the hillside he'd raced down towards the cottage. No, Neville decided. He figured that if Helena had been at the cottage, she'd have come to check out the noise. That meant she was on her way; of course, Neville could have always predicted wrong.

"Have some faith in yourself, Neville." Harry's words invaded his mind, followed by Michael, "I believe in you completely." Neville swallowed. I need to trust my gut. I'm right about this. Sooner or later, she'll come with the Diadem. His fingers trailed through the blades of grass, "All that's left to do is wait."

It sounded childish, it was the middle of a war after all, but Neville was beyond bored. The sun crept over the horizon, and Neville couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He'd been in such a rush to fix his mistake he hadn't concocted a single plan. Neville took solace in the fact that, at the very least, nobody was there to see him.

It had also been a very effective time for Neville to plot his vengeance on Peeves for this whole event. If the little ghost that the Baron was scary, he wasn't ready for the wrath Neville felt in his chest. The thought of ways to kill a poltergeist subsided at the ring of a gentle hum. It sounded almost like a shanty as a light flickered up the side of the hill.

Neville lifted himself from the ground and prepared his eardrums. He was right to do so as the first words the Ravenclaw ghost spewed was a roar of frustration. "YOU!"

"Me," Neville replied simply.

"What are you doing here? You should be at school little boy!" Helena hissed.

"Education is very low on my list of priorities right now," Neville returned. He sighed and stepped closer towards the ghost, "I figured you'd come here to return the Diadem to your mom. It's a noble thing you're trying to do, but it's misguided."

"You know nothing boy!" Helena bellowed, "Don't you dare pretend like you know anything about how it feels to be in my position!"

"My parents were great wizards, better than I could ever be. When I was young, they protected me and suffered a fate worse than death. Death Eaters tortured them for hours to the point that they don't even remember who I am." The ghost hovered inches from Neville's face without a word. "I'm not a brave and strong wizard like they are. For a while, it would have been hard press even to call me a wizard at all. I had to live so long with this idea that I was a disappointment to them. You betrayed your mother, and you think that your mom thinks of you as a failure. It's why when you died, you chose to stay. You were unable to face her after what you did. Trust me; I understand what it feels like to fail people you care about better than most."

"Then let me find peace and return what I stole from her," Helena croaked. "Please- this is all I can do for her now."

"I want to. Merlin, I want you to be able to find that peace, but I can't let you return the Diadem to her. And you know why; it's surrounded by dark magic. Magic that needs to be destroyed." Neville looked softly at the cold eyes of the ghost. "I know that you've been lied to about the intention others had with the Diadem, but I swear it, I need to destroy this Diadem to be able to save the Wizarding World. The magic you feel is Voldemort's magic, Tom Riddle's magic. If we don't destroy it, he can't be killed for good. So please, help me."

"Your words are empty to me," Helena whimpered, "I've heard those lies before. All you mortals are the same, you-,"

"I swear it on the lives of my mother and father, I only seek to destroy the magic that has corrupted your mother's treasure." Neville said. His soul had nearly spilled out from within him at the words. His eyes quaked in their sockets, and desperation croaked in his voice.

"If I don't return the Diadem, how will my mother ever forgive me? How can she love me if I don't right my wrongs? If I don't-"

"Your mom will always love you. Even if she can't say it, you should know that in your heart." Neville said, "But I'll stand by your side and bear witness as you tell her your intentions if that helps in any way. Your mother founded Hogwarts to be a place where all those gifted with magic could learn. Voldemort intends to trample on the jewel your mother cared for so deeply. Tell her that you decided to protect the thing she loved the most right after you. Let that be the way you make your amends."

The Diadem's weight, which hovered over his shoulder, was heavy as Neville departed the Ravenclaw Cottage. There are few things more awkward than a memorial service for a person you know little about. What Neville did know was that the sun hung high in the sky, and he'd obtained the Diadem.

Neville's head pounded from the malicious whispers. The promises of ways to cure his parents' madness nearly made him coronate himself, but the Diadem wouldn't win. The reality of Neville's life was unpleasant, but it was reality. His parents had essentially given their lives to stop the Dark Lord... Neville wouldn't betray that.

"This thing is loud," He grumbled to himself, "I need to get this to the castle to destroy. The sooner the better." He looked back up at the midday sun, "Damn, Hermione is so going to kill me."

(Michael P.O.V)

Michael awoke with a jolt that made the young witch that stood over him jump. He touched his bare chest, the metal of his suit dismissed from his body, and tried to push himself up only for Claire to pin him back down gently. The half-veela's eyes were a deep red, and tears trickled down her cheeks. He swallowed and reached up for her cheek, only for Claire to grab his wrist and pin him down harder.

"Hey Pretty Bird," Michael smiled, but the girl's backhand knocked the grin from his lips. "Ow," he murmured as Claire's tears dropped on his face.

"Never again," She growled from atop him. "Never say anything like that to me again."

"What are you-" Michael's throat dried at the memory of his words; if this doesn't work, look after my mom and dad, will you? "Oh, right, that. Listen Claire, I was just joking around. You know that I'm not about to die and leave you with that responsibility. Lighten up a little will-"

"We're partners, Michael," Claire growled. "I know that death is a distinct possibility in this war, but you need to find somebody else to make them promise you that. If ever you die in battle, I'm not going to abandon you. I'll make that person pay for taking you from me even if it kills me. That's just how veelas are you're going to have to live with it."

"Right," Michael said, "I guess I'll have to arrange something else then. Can't be helped." Michael moaned into Claire's kiss before they broke apart. She climbed off of him and offered a hand that Michael took gratefully.

His whole body still felt like it weighed a ton, and each step made him rock from side to side. He still jumped a near mile into the sky though at the body of the half-melted Quintaped before he stilled his heart. "Damn, this things terrifying even in death."

"Just be glad you didn't completely incinerate the body with your last attack, then we would have nothing to bring back to my father," Heron said. "You would have almost died for nothing."

"We would have almost died for nothing," Michael corrected. "You weren't looking so hot out there yourself, you know?"

"You dare question my-," Heron sighed. "Right, a joke. You wizards and your humor." Michael followed Heron's eyes as they fell on Claire. "Now that the boy and the groundskeeper are awake, can we be off?"

Claire rolled her eyes but called the house-elf to their side. Hagrid looked to be worse than Michael if he could believe it but still managed to drag the half-melted Quintaped to the elf. Though the half-giant's strength hadn't been the only surprise as Heron approached as well.

"You're coming with us?" Michael asked skeptically.

"It'll be faster this way, yes?" Heron returned. Michael nodded, and Heron snorted, "Then we shall use your method of travel. The sooner I can be bestowed with my honors the better."

"You really are a piece of-," Claire's hand covered Michael's mouth before he could finish the sentence, and then, with a pop, they vanished.

Michael wasn't exactly sure why he'd hoped that the apparition would have been any more comfortable than it usually was. It wasn't like he was what most people considered a boundless optimist, but he figured it couldn't hurt to hope. With how exhausted the little elf was when they'd arrived on Hogwarts grounds, Michael should have honestly been thrilled they'd even arrived in one piece.

"They're useful allies to have," Michael commented. Claire nodded and thanked the elf before the creature vanished from view.

Michael hadn't even bothered to offer help to the centaur who strapped the sled where the Quintaped sat around his waist. Malfoy and Boot were high on the list of people who irritated him, but Heron officially rounded out the top three. The centaur hadn't said a word the whole way towards Hagrid's hut and barely even offered the half-giant a wave when he left their party. Michael bowed his head gratefully towards the bearded professor, who only laughed and waved off his thanks.

"It was fun. Sad to see the Quintaped meet a fate like that, but I wouldn't have gotten a chance to study that beautiful creature without you," Hagrid said with a grin.

"You and I have widely different opinions on what beautiful is, but all the same Hagrid, thank you." Michael said before he waved the man goodbye and followed the centaur into the woods.

The forbidden forest's name had lost all luster for Michael. He couldn't confirm it, but he was confident that he must have held the record for the student that visited it the most. His mind had mapped out some of the more noticeable trails, but the 'help' of Heron had made navigation towards the centaur's fort easier. However, Michael wasn't sure if it had been the centaur's intention to help them at all, though, with the way he marched through the forest.

The sled tracks of the dragged Quintaped led the way back towards the barricade, and Michael felt as if he'd been gone for years. The chats and dances of the centaurs filled the small, gated-off community. However, the noise stood still as the gatekeeper recognized Heron. Michael studied the way the gatekeeper glared down at Heron before stepping aside.

"Chief Bane! Your son has returned!"

Bane darted towards the gate like a bullet and loomed over his son like the dark sky. His eyes floated towards the sled before a grin broke across his face, "Well done, my son. You've proved your valor. Come, join us, we make you a man of our tribe tonight!"

Michael felt an involuntary tug of his lip before Bane nodded to him. "You as well, Gift-Bearer, and Gift-Bearer's mate, please come with us."

Claire shivered a bit at her title, but Michael only laughed and grabbed her hand. Together, the two entered the fort. When they'd first returned, there was a level of unease that permeated the space, but now, centaurs held their wooden mugs to them.

"Odd change of tone," Claire commented.

"I think we've done enough to earn it," Michael returned.

Bane guided himself and Claire towards the large fire and guided them towards and fallen tree-stump they could use as a seat. It wasn't much for comfort, but Michael didn't feel it right to complain. Bane soon called over the rest of his kin, then, within seconds, the ground began to shake. The centaurs beat their hooves against the dirt, and their chants grew louder by the second.

Bane whistled loudly, and from the chief's hut, Heron emerged, his face painted in the blood of the Quintaped. "My Brothers!" Bane shouted, "Not, but a few days ago, my son was given a chance to prove his worthiness to our tribe! Tonight, he returned, successful! His task was to kill the foul Quintaped, and we've bared witness to the fallen beasts with our own eyes! Tell me, are there any here who reject the notion of Heron's glory amongst us!"

Michael's arm began to rise, only for Claire to pin it back down against his thigh. You know it's true, he thought to himself. Claire couldn't read his mind, but his expression must have been enough for her to roll her eyes. They'd both had their attention returned to Bane as Michael's name appeared in his speech.

"But my son didn't do it alone! No, like us all, he was assigned a partner, in his case, Wizard Michael Corner!" Michael stood but hadn't received nearly the same applause as Heron had. "My brothers, wizard-kind has done us wrong many times before. However, as I tried to persuade you all of in the beginning, Gift-Bearer, Michael Corner, has a centaur's heart!"

Bane waved him over, and Michael did as he was asked. The centaurs looked expectantly at him, and Bane nodded. He cleared his throat, "Centaurs, I know that in the past, our races have bickered. That fault lies on my kind. For years, we've mistreated your people, but I promise you that we can still make amends. Harry Potter is a man that believes every creature should be treated with respect; I share those beliefs. But we share an enemy! An enemy that would have you gagged and collared before you are forced to bow at his feet. An enemy that sees you as inferior to wizards. That man is Voldemort!"

The centaurs hissed at the name. "I know I have no right to call you all my brothers, but what Bane says is true. I care for all of you. I care for your rights and liberties! But I can't work towards mending wizardkind's mistakes if we are unable to defeat Voldemort and his allies! We need your help to rise against them! To defeat them! So I ask you, are you all proud warriors happy to die on your feet! Or are you weak beasts satisfied with being made to kneel before a man who believes you filth!"

A defiant roar rippled through the forest air, and Michael smiled. Bane's hand rested upon his shoulder, a fire behind his eyes. "You've inspired my men. I doubt they will need much more convincing to join you when the time comes. You've done my son a great service, Gift-Bearer. I know Heron cannot be the easiest to work with; he gets that from me. Yet, all the same, you've brought him back alive and kept your word to me. So I swear by the red-planet, should the world bring war to your home, we will ride with you, Gift-Bearer.

"Thank you, Chief Bane."

Voldemort

The Dark Lord stewed atop his throne. His fingers rolled the auror's eye before the cut on his face burned. Mad-Eye Moody had been heralded as a legend, and he'd discovered that even in the man's advanced age, it wasn't a rumor. He growled at the memory of the grizzled auror's last words and squeezed the eye tightly.

"I don't care if your immortal or not; your days are numbered. Harry is the greatest wizard I've ever trained, and you'll die by his hand. I bet my life on it."

The auror had indeed bet his life on it. His remains that Carmilla's followers feasted on were proof of that. The Vampire Queen indulged herself on a glass of the old-auror's blood and licked her lips. It was brim with magic, allegedly. The sound of a gentle hiss forced his head to swivel, but Nagini wasn't there. His snake had been loyal to him since the day they met. Far more faithful than any of the followers that sat at the tables beneath him. She'd died to resurrect him due to Snape's betrayal.

Voldemort wouldn't make a mistake like that again. The slightest hesitation to enact any of his commands would mean death.

A prolonged war only meant more time for disloyalty to brew, but there was no need for the war to last much longer. Magic swelled within him, and he knew now that Harry could no longer rival his power. All that was left was to land a decisive blow to the heart of the war efforts, and Wizarding-Britain would fall before him. Yes, the Order may have been the brains of the operation, but all resistance would crumble if Voldemort held the minister's head in his hands.

"Carmilla," Voldemort hissed, his eyes set down on his foot soldiers once more, "After the meal, ready your troops. Tomorrow night, we finish this war for good."

A/N: Like I said, kinda a shorter chapter but I wanted to get something out before my schedule turns into a nightmare. I don't think this chapter was particularly excellent but I really am doing my best to produce quality work! My readership has dropped off tremendously but for those of you who have stuck with me and supported this series, I will complete it, even if I do need to take another break to recharge. Thank you all so much for every bit of shine you send my way! Until Next Time, Peace!