Colonel Sumner drummed his fingers against the side of his coffee mug while he stared out the window. The parking lot was nearly empty, just their SUV and a pair of small, ridiculous looking British cars.

One of them was the owners' and the other...well, he'd never even seen it move. No telling who owned it. The thing might be abandoned.

"You're doing it again," Ella-Louise said softly, a corner of her mouth upturned. It amused her that he was so impatient.

"We've been waiting forever." Sumner sounded as sullen as he felt. He was comfortable being genuine around her, a side effect of living in the same room with her for so long.

"They'll call when they can," she replied, taking a sip of her tea. She preferred tea over coffee, a point against her in his opinion. One of very few points against her, though. "Trying to poke a hole in the side of your mug isn't gonna make them call any faster."

"You're right," Sumner sighed, "but, it'll make me feel better."

Ella-Louise took another sip of her tea and murmured something that sounded suspiciously like stubborn into her mug. She was right of course, but damnit you could only keep a fella locked up like this for so long.

She reached a hand across the table and set it on his, gently, but blocking his fingers from the drumming. They were surprisingly warm, and soft. Sumner turned away from the window and looked into her large, bright, eyes.

"They'll call. Don't worry so much." She squeezed his hand. He was tempted to turn his hand in hers, to hold it back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd held a woman's hand.

The sound of the room phone ringing made them both jump and the moment slipped away, replaced by an adrenaline rush and the promise of action, finally. Sumner was the first to be up and out of his seat, crossing the room in only a few strides and snatching the phone from the receiver.

"Sumner," he said curtly. Perhaps a little of his aggravation at waiting so long bled through. If it did, the officer on the other end of the phone didn't show any reaction to it.

"Lily Hill Farm in Brignall. We're uploading the location to the GPS in your SUV." The voice was cool and calm, like this was just another phone call in a long list he had to make that day.

"Excellent." Sumner felt his pulse thumping against his throat. Finally, something to go on. "How sure are we?"

"Ninety-five percent according to the intel guys. The B&B is less than ten miles from Great Hangleton, one of the locations he was researching. On top of that, while they were digging, ISR caught a social media post thanking an eccentric old man with a long beard for telling some imaginative stories to someones kids. No pictures, but the shoe fits."

"Great work," Sumner said. "We'll be on the road ASAP."

He hung up the phone with a feeling of elation rising in his chest, one that battled with a feeling of self-doubt as he remembered that he was looking for Dumbledore in order to convince him to help them fight a war. That was going to be a tall order.

But, it was a problem for later. "Ellie, let's get packed up," he said as he turned away from the nightstand, "I wanna be on the road in an ho-"

He turned around just in time to see the last of their laundry as it folded itself neatly into the luggage bags. They zipped themselves as dresser drawers closed. Ella-Louise stood there with a satisfied grin on her face, tapping her foot on the ground with one hand holding her wand and the other to her waist.

"I'm waiting on you big guy," she said before waving her wand silently. The luggage floated into the air and followed her out the door, leaving Sumner standing there. He rushed after her, unable to hide his smirk.

Neville Longbottom flicked his wand quickly, forcing himself to remain upright even though every fiber of his being told him to duck. "Protego!" he cried out, rebounding an impediment jinx and sending it flying back at Ernie Macmillan, who did duck out of the way.

"Stupefy!" Neville shouted, his wand aimed directly at Ernie. Already off balance from dodging the unexpected rebound of his own jinx, Ernie didn't stand a chance. The spell struck him in the midsection and he toppled over off the side of the dueling platform.

He'd barely touched the ground before Hannah Abbot and Anthony Goldstein pulled him off the ground and back to his feet. Neville meanwhile was crowded by fellow Gryffindors, celebrating his first dueling win.

Smiling broadly, he gave a few high fives and handshakes, and he thanked Hermione. She'd been a huge help. Knowing that the wizards who had tortured his parents were out and free...he wanted to be ready. A strong part of him wanted to find them, hunt them down and make them pay. He wasn't remotely ready for that kind of thing. For now, he settled for winning his first duel.

"Great work, Neville!" Harry announced loud enough to get everyone's attention. "I think we're going to call it a day there." It had become something of a tradition, having duels at the end of each meeting. They were here to practice and get ready for fights against He-who-must-not-be-named and his followers, after all.

Laughter and general chatter filled the room as they broke apart. Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed over to the library section for some additional studying as the rest of them filed out to leave.

As Neville followed the rest of them out, he gave a silent thanks to those three. They put in a lot of work to be ready to teach the rest of them useful things. It was a serious load they took on and he appreciated it.

The door closed behind them and they started down the hall, everyone chatting about different things. More often than not, they would break apart there and head to their own common rooms, even leaving separately in order to attract less attention.

The last few meetings, however, had been held in the middle of either lunch or dinner. Harry knew a house elf that was perfectly happy to bring them a spread of food to eat during the meeting, and as a bonus the rest of the school was in the Great Hall.

They started down the stairs and Neville thought about where he should head. Trevor should be let out, but he also had a habit of finding his way out on his own. Come to think of it, he wasn't a hundred percent sure he'd locked Trevor's cage…

With a sigh he turned around, deciding he should check on Trevor instead of getting more food at the Great Hall. The last few members passed him, chatting about their dueling tactics. He looked upstairs in time to a group of unfriendly faces peering down at them.

"Inquisitors!" Neville shouted, turning to run back down. His heart leapt into his throat as half a dozen Slytherin's in their green Inquisitor robes darted down the staircase after them.

He ran after the rest of his companions, almost tripping when he reached the bottom of the stairs. They were lucky because this hall had a dozen avenues of escape.

"Stop!" one of the Inquisitors shouted from behind. It only spurred Neville onward as he fought to remember which path led to Gryffindor Tower. He could go straight ahead, there was a staircase at the end of the hall that he could use to get back up to the seventh floor.

On the other hand, he was pretty sure that the classroom to the left had a second door. If he got in, he could double back and use the staircase he'd just come down to get up there. It was the shorter path, for sure, and the Slytherin's weren't exactly bright. He didn't think they'd leave someone to watch the stairs.

He angled toward the classroom door, listening to the pounding of feet behind him as they edged closer. There wouldn't be enough time to double back. He tried to alter back toward the middle of the hall again but his foot caught a halberd, held by a suit of armor, and he tripped.

His nose cracked against another suit of armor, which went crashing down on top of him. He was able to shield his head from most of the falling metal, but by the time it had all stopped, someone had a hold of his ankles.

Neville was dragged out of the pile of armor. He looked down, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes. His nose really hurt.

"We got one!" one of the goons chuckled, and Neville felt his heart sink back to the pit of his stomach. It was Goyle. Undoubtedly, the other one was Crabbe.

"Let's get 'em to the dungeon," Crabbe's unmistakable voice replied. Neville felt his wand yanked from his robes and hands roughly grabbed underneath his armpits, hauling him up off of the ground.

The two set off at a pace that was just quick enough to keep Neville off balance, he kept stumbling over his feet. It was hard to see and move with his eyes watering and blood trickling down his face and onto his robes, and he thought he was going to fall down the stairs several times when he lost his balance.

Crabbe and Goyle both kept a firm grip on his arms though and each time, they kept him from falling. He wasn't sure whether that was good or bad, honestly. They'd been responsible for some serious torment in his life and he wasn't sold on them having an altruistic side.

It wasn't long before they were in the dungeon. They led him to an empty cell, lifted him off of the ground by his armpits, and threw him inside, slamming the door shut with a loud, reverberating clang.

While Neville tried to hold his nose and get the bleeding to stop, he heard Crabbe and Goyle talking quietly about how Umbridge was going to be impressed. Apparently, they'd been on to the organization and hunting members for a while, though it still sounded like they weren't sure where the meeting had been held.

When his eyes were both clear of tears and a little more used to the dark, he looked around. Crabbe and Goyle were standing at a table in the middle of the dungeon, where they'd deposited his wand. The rest of the cells stood open...well, except for the one across from him. That one was closed, and someone was balled up, sitting in a shadowy corner.

He couldn't tell who it was, even squinting. It was too dark and his eyes weren't that good to begin with. Still, he hadn't heard about anyone being missing. If anyone was going to be missing, DA members were the most likely.

Neville wondered how long it would be before anyone realized he was gone. Probably tonight at bedtime, tomorrow at the latest. Hermoine was helping him study in the morning and she'd know something was wrong when he didn't show up. Not that she could do anything about it.

The figure in the cell opposite him stood up. It was a slow movement, deliberate and painful looking. It was a girl, judging by the figure, but he still couldn't make out her features as she stood there, propped against the corner of the cell.

Footsteps echoed down the staircase, stumbling down so fast that Neville half expected someone to arrive in the dungeon in a heap. It would have made him feel a little better, seeing someone else on that end of the clumsy spectrum.

Instead, Draco Malfoy burst into the dungeon, having to brace his hands against the table to stop himself. He was panting hard and looked first at Neville, then to the opposite cell where the girl now cowered, and then finally to his best friends. They had prideful smiles on their faces, while Draco looked anything but happy.

"I didn't believe it when Warrington told me…" Malfoy drawled cooly. The two didn't pick up on his warning tone.

"Believe it," Crabbe said, puffing his chest out.

"Yeah, we got one."

"You IDIOTS!" Malfoy cuffed them both on the ears and they reared back, looks of surprise on their faces. Neville thought they almost looked like dogs that had irritated their owners. "The headmistress explicitly stated that no one was to come down here. NO ONE!"

The looks of confusion and surprise melted from the goons faces as they both turned their heads at once to the other cell. Neville followed their gaze and saw that the girl was now crouched in the corner again, as deep into the shadow as she could be.

"You!"

Neville jumped, not having realized that Malfoy was now right outside the bars. He threw the cell door open and it clanged loudly against the wall. Crabbe and Goyle were on either side of him in an instant, dragging him out of the cell and to the middle of the dungeon, beside the table. Malfoy followed.

"This is your lucky day, Longbottom," Malfoy spat. Neville turned over his shoulder, to the girl cowering in the cell. He caught sight of her just as she'd looked up. She looked familiar.

Then a fist connected with his gut and the air rushed from his lungs. He struggled to double over, but the two goons holding his arms forced him to stay upright.

"Keep your eyes over here!" Malfoy shouted into his ear, connecting another punch to his stomach.

Neville tried to tell him that he wouldn't look again, but instead he coughed and threw up. All three Slytherin's backed up, and without anyone to hold him up, Neville fell to his hands and knees, right into the puddle.

"I-" Neville started again, but again the air rushed from his lungs as Malfoy kicked him in the side. He fell onto his side, one hand covering his face as the other grabbed for his ribs. One of them might have cracked.

"Arrête s'il-te-plaît!" the girl cried out from behind Neville. Against his better judgement, he glanced toward her after she yelled. Fleur Delacour was standing, pressed against the bars with an arm outstretched in protest. Her lips were chapped and broken, her cheeks sunken, and her hand appeared to be caked with dried blood.

That was all he saw before Goyle's fist crashed down on top of his already broken nose. Neville cried out and caught another fist to the side of his head. As he tried to curl into a ball, arms above his head, he caught a boot to the middle of his back and another to his knee.

They kicked, punched, and stomped for what felt like an eternity. Then, it stopped. He was hoisted to his feet from beneath his arms again. Through one hazy eye, the other was swollen shut, Neville saw Malfoy holding his wand, examining it.

He bent it back and forth, like he was going to break it. Neville wanted to protest, but his self-preservation didn't let him. Instead, Malfoy tucked the wand into Nevilles robe pocket and slapped him gently on the cheek.

"As I was saying, it's your lucky day." Malfoy stepped out of the way, leaving the path to the stairs clean open. "I'll be taking ten points from Gryffindor, since you were caught out of the Great Hall during mealtime, but you're free to go."

The hands released Neville and he almost stumbled to the ground, but managed to keep himself upright. He stood there for a moment, all three of them staring at him, then took a step toward the stairs.

"Of course, if you mention a word about anything you saw down here…" Malfoy paused, stepping close beside Neville to whisper in his ear. Neville shied away. "...I'll leave you worse off than your parents. Now get lost!"

Malfoy shoved him. He caught himself against the stairs and started painfully climbing. The first few steps were awful. He wasn't sure his knee was going to work.

Below him, Malfoy raged at his thick-headed friends for bringing him there in the first place. His pace increased. It hurt to move at all, let alone faster, but he needed to get to Harry as fast as possible.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he arrived at the Room of Requirement. He looked both ways to be sure he wasn't followed, then opened the heavy wooden door.

"Harregh!" he shouted as the door closed behind him. His lips were split and talking was painful. "Hegh!" The room was dim and with only one eye, it took him a second to realize they were gone.

Across the room, through the haze in his vision, he saw the lamp next to the radio. Really, Captain Gordon was the one to tell. He was her boyfriend, but he was a soldier, too. If anyone could figure out a way to get her out of there, he could.

Neville almost made it across the practice room without incident, but tripped over the area rug at the last moment. He managed to catch himself against the radio table, knocking the microphone to the ground. Frustrated, he picked it up and slammed it to the table, squinting at the setup.

"Who forgot to turn off their mic?" Brad's voice called over the radio shortly after, causing Neville to jump. He paused a moment. "Delta Alpha, that you?"

Neville scrambled to reply. "I'sme!" Neville cried out, "Umbridge has Fl-"

"Anyone?" Brad asked, talking right over him. He turned dials, trying to get it to send something out, but the radio went to a static frenzy. He tried to fix it, turning the dials back and forth and pressing buttons, but it was useless. After a few long moments of static, he realized the radio wasn't working.

He rushed out, headed to Gryffindor Tower. A pair of first year girls screamed and ran back in past the open portrait as he approached. He might have tried to calm them if he wasn't in such a rush to get to Harry. He needed to know.

He crawled through the open portrait before it could swing shut, thankful because he wasn't sure he remembered the password. Painfully, he mounted the stairs after the fleeing girls, turning toward the boy's dorm instead.

Neville almost ran into Seamus Finnigan, who was poking his head out to shout at the girls to quiet down. "Neville!" he cried out in surprise, reaching out a hand to help him up the last few stairs. "What happened to you!?"

The rest of the boys were hopping out of bed as Neville made it in. He ignored them all, going straight for Harry. He forced the words out slowly, painfully. He wanted to be clear.

"Fleur's in the dungeon."