The end of February and beginning of March was driving Harry to his wit's end. Claiming he needed to talk with Neville became a convenient excuse to get away from McLaggen, Lavender and anyone else, but it meant he couldn't pull out the Maurauders' Map and kept getting agitated.

"Hey Neville," he eventually allowed himself to ask, "do you think Malfoy WOULD join the Death Eaters?"

"I expect he's going to. Same with his buddies," Neville said blandly. They were positioned at different heights on the stairs to the top of the astronomy tower, despite it being early in the afternoon. The tower was one of the few places students didn't normally go in the day. It had no comfortable seats and the Bloody Baron made a disturbing racket every few hours, but it provided an effective hiding place.

"But what about now? Would he even be able to?"

"Of course he could."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. He stared down at Neville with hopeful intent. "You don't think he's too young?"

Neville raised an eyebrow from over his shoulder. "Death Eaters join young. I heard Antonin Dolohov joined when he was 18, and Barty Crouch would've been younger than that." He returned to examining some diagram in a Herbology book Harry didn't recognize.

"Malfoy's sixteen."

"And raised on their beliefs since he was a kid. With his father's connections, he probably knows a lot about them already. They wouldn't be moving up the timetable much if he joined now." Neville shivered and stared into space. "It would give them someone at Hogwarts if they got a student. Someone to do more recruiting. They lost a bunch of people at the ministry, expect they want numbers."

"But what if they needed something more specific," Harry insisted, "Would they trust a student with that?"

"If they needed something at Hogwarts a student would be best," Neville asserted, "Less scrutiny than trying to go through a teacher again, right? Dumbledore's closer to them than he is to the student body." He absently flipped a page.

Why hadn't anyone else put it like that? Harry could have kicked himself for not telling it so concisely. Voldemort had been the one to give Draco Malfoy a task and it must be important. In his excitement he threw caution to the wind. "Neville, hear me out. . ."

Harry listed off every vague piece of evidence he had on his theory, leaving out most of the conversation with Snape. Neville turned to listen without a single question, watching some patch of empty space to the left of Harry's head looking focused. When Harry finished, he finally returned his attention and spoke.

"Okay. What are you going to do?"

Harry was dumbstruck, but gathered himself. "For now I'm going to keep an eye on him, see if I can find out what he's up to."

"Do you know where he's going?" Neville asked patiently.

"No, I haven't been able to find him," said Harry irritably, "It's like he vanishes."

"I wonder if he's using the Room of Requirement," wondered Neville, "now everyone knows where it is. . ."

"No, he can't be-" unless the room was required by someone who needed to not be found. "Neville you're a genius!"

And to Neville's bemusement, he burst up, jumped down the stairs over Neville's legs, and ran back to the common room to look at the map. Neville cried after him. "Harry, just don't get in over y-"

/

The next day, Neville had singed his pants again. Harry could tell, because despite his clothes being clean and together, he smelled a bit like charcoal and looked unhappy. He also hadn't seen Harry yet, even though they were both outside the Defence classroom.

Harry crept halfway up to grab Neville by surprise before he remembered that Neville didn't like surprises.

"Neville, hey!" Neville whipped his head and just as he'd been seen, Harry moved behind Neville in the same direction he was trying to turn.

"Harry what-" He finally gave in to impulse and put his hands on Neville's shoulders, sidestepping Neville's baffled attempts to face him. He relented after a couple turns, but not before swiping his hand through Neville's hair first, though.

"What's up?" Harry snickered in the face of one very confused look.

Neville rubbed the back of his head and left his hand in his hair, pulling it for some reason. "Did you do the homework?"

"Uh, yeah. We did it last night," Harry reminded him lightly. Neville stared at the wall behind him, focused. "You sure you're getting enough sleep lately?" Harry prodded.

"You sound like Ginny, we stayed up reading. . ." Suddenly Neville got the joke and gave him a long suffering look. "Oh, very funny."

"That's what I'm here for," he told him and skimmed the top of Neville's hair again.

Neville finally smirked, but only while telling Harry to knock it off. Mission accomplished, at least. Apparently he should stick to looking and not touching in the future. He updated Neville on his lack of progress and new theory about Crabbe and Goyle using Polyjuice while they filed into the classroom.

/

He couldn't get in the Room and got stuck watching the map. Ron was getting sick of him going over what they knew, but this time Ginny appeared when Harry was hitting his stride. She knew about the Order, and that made her fair game. "He's completely given up bullying," Harry argued on the walk down to the quidditch pitch for their first practice after getting rid of McLaggen. Ron grunted in place of a response for the third time. "Neville says Malfoy hasn't gone after him once this year."

"So?" Asked Ginny, flopping into pace alongside them. "They probably ran out of insults when they realized he isn't actually a squib."

"He isn't bullying the first years either, he hasn't stuck around to pick a fight with me once, he's just whispering with Nott and the other Slytherins. Why's he hanging out with Nott all of a sudden?" Harry kept listing his points without pausing for breath. "Neville said plenty of Death Eaters join when they're barely older than us! Malfoy could be testing the waters for recruits on top of whatever Voldemort has him doing!"

Ron winced and muttered something like "please don't say" under his breath.

"If the inquisitorial squad was Malfoy's best performance, I don't see how the Death Eaters would consider him secret agent material," Ginny shot back. She had not given up on arguing against him seriously yet. "They trust Snape, why couldn't they go through him?"

"They know Snape is a double agent AND he's a teacher, there's only so much he can do under Dumbledore's nose-"

"His very impressive nose that some big headed sixteen year old would be very lucky to outwit," she said sagely.

Ron snorted, but hurried away from them when Harry glared at him in betrayal. Ginny fixed Harry under a hard look despite being a full head shorter than him.

"Hermione's right, you know. Why would Malfoy even go through Hogsmeade? You don't know what he's doing for who. He's no boy Voldemort. Let Snape worry about him trying to impress people."

It was very low of her to bring up his best friend against him when they were one on one, he thought, and spite made Harry fire back.

"It was Neville's idea to check the Room of Requirement, you know. I don't know if he really believes it but at least he's not-"

"Believes? Believes what?" Ginny interrupted him.

"I talked to him and he had helpful suggestions!"

"You TOLD him?" Her eyes blazed. "He's not supposed to know about the Order-"

"I left out the part-"

"I KNEW you would tell him!" Ginny's volume went up, "I knew you'd tell him, just because he'd take your side-"

Harry felt offended for Neville. "He's not 'taking my side,' he just agrees it would be good for the Death Ea-"

"Of course he's taking your side!"

"He is NOT, he never agreed with HALF the things I got up to-"

"Bit different though, lately, isn't he, following you around!"

"HE IS NOT-FOLLOWING-ME-AROUND!" He knew his face was getting hot but couldn't pull back. "Maybe he DOES see things a bit differently, now that the people who tortured his parents are running around with Voldemort back!"

"Voldemort attacked my dad!" retorted Ginny, "OUR DAD! You think we're not taking this seriously and YOU are?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Just drop it with Malfoy already, you've got no proof and you're driving everyone nuts, Dad's in enough trouble over your stupid ideas without you driving everyone else up the wall!"

And with that she marched off to the field and ignored several of his instructions during practice.

Ron offered an olive branch afterwards.

"For what it's worth, I asked about telling Neville last time I wrote," he said generously. "Everyone said it's not allowed without a guardian's permission or whatever, but pretty much no one knows about the Order unless they're in it. So that's a convenient way of telling us to shut it while we're at school."

"It won't stay safe here forever," Harry muttered, "Everyone who's losing family is involved whether they want it or not."

Ron looked uncomfortable. "Easy to forget a war could start any day, staying around here. Feels like a different universe from last year. That's what the teachers want, right?" His cheer was a bit half-hearted.

"It feels useless. We told people about Voldemort coming back so everyone could prepare."

"We are preparing. Dumbledore's preparing you, classes are preparing us so we don't get swept so hard next time we have to fight, and everyone's trying to stay, well, reasonably happy so we don't all lose it before the war ends. Pani-I mean," he corrected himself under Harry's ire, "seriously, don't take it out on me-running yourself into the ground over Malfoy isn't exactly helping you focus."

"I'm not panicking."

Ron shrugged. "You're not relaxed, either, mate."

/

A day later Harry couldn't get the comments about Neville off his mind. If anything he was the one following Neville around. . .they were friends. . .they hadn't talked much before fifth year, but that was just because Harry didn't care about plants. It's not like Neville cares about, Harry's thought trailed off as he struggled to remember if he had hobbies. Quidditch! It's not like Neville talks to me about quidditch!

But that wasn't true. Neville had talked to him about quidditch. He'd asked questions and listened attentively while Harry went on tangents about rivalries and advanced broomriding moves. He had a vague familiarity with the sport and showed up to Harry's matches, despite never showing the passion he, Ron and the other Weasleys always did. The whole school showed up to matches, though, it wasn't just Neville. . .

The next afternoon, he was walking toward the greenhouse before he had time to regret it.

He'd never been in the sprawling greenhouse outside classes. Professor Sprout kept enough plants to work with seven grades of students year round, different colors of vines and flowering shoots that required unique levels of sunlight and exposure to heat or moisture. A great deal of Herbology was gardening, and gardening was long and fiddly work. The look on Professor Sprout's face when she discussed a demanding plant that was ready for harvest reminded Harry of how Mrs. Figg had crooned over her spoiled cats. He still took the class, but he'd been regretting it on top of all his other classwork lately.

He slowed down as he passed the door, feeling stupid. Did he have to knock on the door to get in? Would he be allowed in?

He passed around the side of the structure, trying to make it look like he was just walking closer to it than usual while going toward Hagrid's hut. A path of stones was made to keep students from wearing down the nearby grass. He made to take it for once, but something flickered over the path. A single dark snake.

Harry had poor experiences with snakes, but this one looked nothing like Voldemort's pets. It would be smaller than his hand once coiled, with no visible fangs. Upon closer inspection it had picturesque black and yellow pinstripes. A Hufflepuff snake, he thought with a smile, not a Slytherin one.

"Hey little one," he hissed easily. "How are you?"

It turned slightly towards him and raised its head a bit. "Hungry. You drove off my quarry, human."

"My apologies."

"You are not the first. But your manners do you credit."

Harry kneeled down, flattered. "Do you live in the forest?"

"I survive in any land I face," the snake declared, drawing itself back. "The stones are warmer than the forest, however. I prefer the places the humans seek for their own, and thrive in solitude."

It made for the edge of the forest, probably to find a new meal. He watched it leave feeling a bit lonely. Snakes were usually more interested in him than this.

"Hello?"

Harry spun to look without getting up. Neville was looking straight at him, holding a tray of something with enormous leaves spilling out of multiple planters. He was looking a bit goofy in warm ear muffs, though probably not as goofy as Harry felt on his hands and knees. Harry struggled up, wiping his hands on his robes.

"Hey Harry! What're you doing?"

Harry couldn't say that he'd shown up to visit Neville out of guilt. Or any other true reason. "Great, thanks. I was headed to Hagrid's."

Neville watched him for a few moments. ". . .is something back there?"

Harry took entirely too long to decide if he wanted to answer, before talking just to end the awkward silence. "Therewassasnake."

"Sorry?"

Harry started tapping his feet to calm down. "There was a, um, snake. I don't know if they're wanted by the greenhouse."

"Oh, really! That's cool, we don't usually get them. They don't like the cold up here in the mountains."

"It's not a, y'know, problem? If snakes go in there to catch mice or stuff. . ."

"Oh no, no problem!" Neville said cheerfully. "That's fine. Well, have fun at Hagrid's. Bye Harry!" He called. And he walked his planters back to the greenhouse and closed the door behind him.