I'd like to thank fredfred, InquisitorCOC and Brian1972 for beta-reading.


Chapter 4: Revelations

London, Diagon Alley, October 13th, 1998

Neville smiled as he opened the door to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour for Daphne. It was a beautiful day, just perfect for a stroll down Diagon Alley - and he had very fond memories of the Parlour. When he had been a child, every visit to Diagon Alley had ended here.

"It's been ages since I've visited," Daphne said, looking around. "But it hasn't changed."

"It has, actually. We spent a lot of time restoring the Parlour."

Neville turned to look at the waitress who had addressed them. That wasn't how you greeted customers - Mr Fortescue had always been the very soul of hospitality.

"Restoring it?" Daphne asked.

The thin smile on the waitress's face twisted into a hint of a sneer. "After my father was murdered, the Parlour was confiscated by the Ministry and handed over to the pureblood Fortescues. My family just got it back."

Oh. Neville remembered reading about that in one of the early bills he had supported - the restoration of confiscated muggleborn property to their owners. Or their heirs, in too many cases. He hadn't known Florean Fortescue had been a muggleborn, though, and not a distant relative of the Fortescue family.

Daphne, apparently, hadn't made the connection. "The pureblood Fortescues?"

"My father was a muggleborn," the waitress - or rather, the new owner - said. "We're not related to the pureblood Fortescues." Her expression and tone turned 'pureblood' into an insult.

Daphne noticed that and frowned. "Did you know that it was Neville and my father who returned the business to you?"

The waitress, who still hadn't introduced herself, snorted. "Do you expect us to be grateful for restoring our property to us? It won't bring my father back." She shook her head. "And you haven't actually done anything for us."

Neville bristled. "I fought Voldemort!" He had risked his life in the war - and so had his gran.

She snorted again. "You and many others. And it was Harry Potter who defeated him. And who are you fighting now?"

Neville hissed at the insult, then pressed his lips together. "I think we shall take our business elsewhere."

"Yes." Daphne nodded stiffly.

"Have a nice day." The witch beamed a fake smile at them as they left.

"The nerve of that witch!" Daphne complained as soon as they were in the street. "How dare she talk to you that way!"

Neville nodded. No manners at all. No class. And she was wrong.

He wasn't fighting Harry. This wasn't a war. This was simply politics.

But he couldn't help adding, in his thoughts: For now.


Kent, Longbottom Manor, October 13th, 1998

"How was your day, Neville?" Gran asked once Blinky had served the hors d'oeuvres.

"It was nice," Neville answered. And, but for the encounter in that shop, it had been. That he hadn't had to face Hermione in a Wizengamot Session or read one of her annoyingly repetitive proposals had helped a lot, of course.

Gran smiled. "Daphne is a nice girl, isn't she?"

Neville slightly raised his eyebrows. So it was 'Daphne' now - no longer 'Miss Greengrass'. He nodded. "She is nice, yes."

"And always composed and polite."

He nodded again. Unlike other witches, she wouldn't neglect her guests or her host at an outing.

"You've been spending a lot of time with her."

He had, hadn't he? "Yes. I'm working closely with her father."

"You weren't working with her father in Diagon Alley, though. And it wasn't her father who visited us twice last week."

He snorted. "No, Gran."

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. "Should I make inquiries?"

He drew a deep breath. "We haven't actually discussed that." He almost added 'yet' without thinking.

She nodded again, and her smile didn't vanish, to his slight confusion. "Perhaps you should."

He pondered that for a moment. Should he? He liked spending time with Daphne. She was beautiful and witty, always poised and elegant - but not pushy or arrogant, like Parkinson - and her jokes weren't as barbed as Tracey's or as nasty as Blaise's. Of course, that was a low bar - Tracey had a very sharp tongue, and, if they hadn't been outlawed, Blaise probably would have fought a dozen duels since Hogwarts. And if people weren't afraid of his mother's vengeance.

He nodded. "Perhaps I should."

Gran's smile was as wide as it had been when he had taken his oath in the Wizengamot.


"Did you know that Anais's grand-niece was caught listening to Potterwatch?" Gran mentioned as pudding was served. "She told me today."

"No, I didn't." Gran hadn't mentioned many of her friends' grand-nieces and granddaughters since Daphne's visits had grown more frequent."I didn't even know that Potterwatch was still being broadcast." And he certainly didn't remember Lee getting a licence for his program.

"Well, if they ever stopped, they've certainly resumed. And according to Anne, all of her friends are listening to it - because of the music." Gran wrinkled her nose. "Muggle music."

"I didn't know that they banned that at Hogwarts," Neville said.

"They haven't. But Alois's grandson is a prefect and reported them to their parents."

"Ah." So little Bernie had become the new Gryffindor prefect. And, apparently, a telltale. But that was none of Neville's business. However, Potterwatch broadcasting again was a concern. Neville didn't think Lee, if it was him behind this, would stick to muggle music.


Lee didn't, as Neville found out an hour later, after he had finally found the right channel on the wireless.

"Alright, everyone! That was 'Girlfriend' by Billie - the hot pick for the new number one single in this week's charts!"

Neville didn't understand what Astronomy had to do with music. It probably wasn't important anyway. But what came next, though, was.

"And now, for a change, politics! My old Potterwatch partner has graciously agreed to give me an interview! Here's a warm welcome for Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt!"

Neville gasped. The Minister himself, giving an interview to a - probably - unlicenced wireless channel?

"Thank you, Lee."

That was definitely Shacklebolt's voice.

"So, Kingsley - or do you prefer 'Minister' these days?"

"Kingsley is fine. I get called 'Minister' all day."

"The perils of politics, I dare say. That you skipped a promising career as a wireless announcer to become Minister for Magic still boggles my mind."

Neville pressed his lips together as the two men laughed at Lee's weak joke about one of the highest offices in Britain - and, arguably, the most powerful.

"Speaking of politics - and everyone is speaking of politics these days - you'd have to be living under a rock to miss that there's a big political struggle going on in the Wizengamot at the moment."

"Well, I would say there's a livelier debate than usual in the Wizengamot," the Minister answered.

"Your talent for understatement does you proud, Kingsley." Lee laughed, followed by Shacklebolt. "Others have described it as a vicious battle of wits with our dear Hermione holding her own against the entire Wizengamot. Not that that would surprise anyone who knows her, of course. Although it's surprising, isn't it, that the Wizengamot hasn't thrown in the towel, given the average intellect and age of their members?"

"I wouldn't presume to comment on that," Shacklebolt said. It would have been the correct answer but for the chuckling.

Neville clenched his teeth again. A Minister should show more respect to the Wizengamot - they had elected him, after all!

"But would you presume to comment on the subject of the struggle? What's your take on democracy?"

"Well," Shacklebolt started to say, "not many may know this, but one of the assignments I had as an Auror was to guard the muggle Prime Minister. I spent months at his side, in the heart of the muggle government."

"Which, as everyone who passed Muggle Studies knows, is a democracy," Lee cut in.

"Correct. So, I am more than passingly familiar with the system. And while I would not presume to tell the Wizengamot how to vote, I do not think that democracy would ruin our country."

"There you have it, folks - straight from the mouth of our Minister for Magic - and former co-host of Potterwatch, as well as a war hero. A war hero who hasn't switched sides, unlike others, I might add."

Neville almost hexed his wireless receiver. He hadn't switched sides! He was still fighting for what was right and what was best for the country!


Kent, Greengrass Manor, October 14th, 1998

"...and they made it sound as if I had switched sides to Voldemort's followers!" Neville clenched his teeth. Just thinking about that unfair attack on him on Potterwatch made him want to curse something. Or someone.

Daphne scoffed. "That's…" She shook her head. "That's so unfair. Just because you don't follow Granger's orders like everyone else, they've stooped that low."

"I fought together with those people!" Neville said. "Lee, Shacklebolt, Harry, Ron, Hermione - we were all at Hogwarts at the final battle." He snorted. "How long until they claim I was fighting for Voldemort?"

"That wouldn't surprise me," Daphne said. "On the other hand, it's a good sign if they need to lie about you - it means they don't think they can beat you fairly."

"But it's an effective lie. People will believe I betrayed them - people like Fortescue's daughter." Neville sighed as he sat down on the chair next to Daphne's desk. He wasn't the one trying to tear down the very country they fought for. That had been Voldemort - and now Hermione and her friends. All he was doing was trying to preserve his country.

"That witch seemed to hate you already." Daphne sat on her bed, facing him. "Muggleborns will believe everything Granger says since she's one of them."

"Well, she might have listened to more Potterwatch broadcasts." Neville didn't know how long those had been going on for already. "But she's Fortescue's daughter - she's a half-blood, not a muggleborn."

"Well, if he married another muggleborn, she would be more of a muggleborn than a half-blood," Daphne said. "No proper magical upbringing."

Neville frowned. "The Weasleys are purebloods and still support Hermione."

"I don't think they had a proper magical upbringing," Daphne said, chuckling. Neville didn't laugh. It wasn't the fault of the Weasleys that they were poor. Daphne went on: "But they know that if Granger manages to replace the Wizengamot, they'll rise in status. She's with their youngest son - she'll be family."

"Unless Ron gets tired of her ordering him around," Neville muttered. This time, he laughed when Daphne giggled.

"She was a terror as a prefect, or so Parkinson told us." Daphne shook her head. "But that happens when people who aren't prepared for it suddenly get power over others."

Neville could only agree with that. "That's why we have to stop her - she has no idea about governing a magical country." And he would bet that she didn't know much about governing a muggle country either.


Mr Rosier was, again, loudly complaining about something, Neville noted when he entered the drawing room in Greengrass Manor. He was among the last to arrive - his talk with Daphne had taken longer than he had expected, and he had lost track of time. And Madam Greengrass hadn't checked up on them until the gathering had been about to start.

Neville greeted everyone - and ignored Mr Greengrass's smirk - before he took his usual seat and leaned over to Madam Fawley, raising an eyebrow and nodding in Mr Rosier's direction. He noticed that Mr Macmillan hadn't arrived yet.

"He's complaining about the lack of international support," she whispered - not particularly quietly.

"Damn right, I am!" Mr Rosier blurted out. "We're facing a coup here, and no one cares!"

"No one cared when Voldemort took over the country," Neville pointed out.

"No one knew that it was him for quite some time," Mr Rosier retorted. "He had the Minister under the Imperius Curse."

"And no one asked for help," Mr Greengrass added. "Which, unless I'm greatly mistaken, hasn't happened now, either."

"I think we would have been notified about such a proposal," Madam Smith said.

"I'm considering it," Mr Rosier said. "A formal request for support to the ICW!"

"The ICW only cares about threats to the Statute of Secrecy." Madam Fawley scoffed. "And we don't face such a threat."

"Well, we could be facing one soon!" Mr Rosier snapped. "We can't trust the muggleborns to keep the secret from their families without enough wands to keep them in line!"

"Calling for help from the ICW because we can't handle our duty to protect and uphold the Statute would be a worse loss of face than Fudge's blunder," Madam Fawley retorted. "That witch would have a great time portraying us as inept and unable to fulfil our duties."

"And without an ICW sanctioned intervention, no government would meddle anyway," Mr Greengrass said. "Imagine the precedent it would set - other countries would fear such an intervention every time they have an internal disagreement."

Neville nodded.

"Scandinavia would be even worse than it already is," Mr Selwyn added. "All the clans would try to drag other countries into their feuds, just as they try to recruit our werewolves."

"They can have all our werewolves!" Mr Rosier spat. "Good riddance! But we could use a few more wands."

Did the man actually think they could afford a war? Or win it? Neville clenched his teeth.

"Well, according to what I heard from my sources..." Mr Selwyn said.

Madam Fawley interrupted him. "Your family in Prussia, you mean."

Mr Selwyn rolled his eyes as he continued: "...from my sources, most of the other countries think we deserve our current troubles. If we hadn't granted so many rights to muggleborns, they wouldn't expect even more rights now."

Madam Smith scoffed. "That was Dumbledore's doing. I would have liked to see any of those countries refuse him in our place!"

That caused a round of chuckles and laughter - though most of it seemed bereft of humour. Neville shook his head. "In any case, as I've said before, we cannot afford another war, even if we could win it." Which they couldn't - anyone with a contact in the Ministry could tell that there were too many unreliable Aurors and Hit-Wizards. First among them, of course, Harry and Ron.

"Bloody traitors!" Rosier mumbled.

For a moment, Neville thought he had heard 'blood traitors'. He cleared his throat. "No, we need to offer the muggleborns more concessions. It won't turn many of them to our side, but it should placate them and buy us more time."

"Or," Mr Greengrass said, "we could shore up more support from the purebloods and proper half-bloods."

Neville looked at him and blinked. "And how would we do that?" The Wizengamot had restored the status quo ante, hadn't they? That should have covered the purebloods and the half-bloods who had established themselves in Wizarding Britain.

Mr Greengrass inclined his head. "We need to have more people invested in our government. If granting concessions to the muggleborns won't really help us, and I believe Mr Longbottom when he says it won't, then granting concessions or favours to purebloods and half-bloods might be more successful. We could lower the taxes on land and businesses, for example."

"That would certainly almost exclusively benefit purebloods and established half-bloods," Madam Smith said.

"And us," Madam Fawley added. "Which means it's a proposal that'll be passed easily."

Neville bit his lip. He couldn't say why - the reasoning was sound - but he thought that this was a bad idea.

But he didn't have a better one.

It wasn't until everyone was getting ready to leave - although Neville was staying for dinner - that he noticed that Mr Macmillan hadn't shown up at all.


London, Ministry of Magic, October 19th, 1998

"...and, therefore, I propose to reduce the tax on lands and businesses by ten per cent. After the recent crisis, the hard-working people of Britain need not be burdened with more taxes while rebuilding our country." Mr Greengrass smiled as applause started, but Neville noticed Hermione raising her wand already.

He sighed as Doge called her up.

She was smiling thinly when she rose and nodded at Doge. "Thank you, sir." She lost her smile as she turned to glare at Neville - no, at Mr Greengrass, this time. "Honoured members of the Wizengamot, I am appalled!" She took a deep breath as Neville wondered, once more, how much scorn she could voice while technically adhering to the forms of the Wizengamot. "Appalled and disgusted at this blatant attempt to pauper the government while filling the coffers of the honoured members of the Wizengamot! Anyone who has studied the proposal knows that the only ones who would significantly benefit from this are the rich - those who own multiple businesses and lands. The Old Families, in short. They are the ones who pay the majority of the taxes - not the wizards and witches renting a shop in Diagon Alley. And, coincidentally, most of those lands and businesses were not affected by the war, and aren't in any need of rebuilding. However, the Ministry is."

She scoffed again.

"This proposal would deny the Ministry the means needed to rebuild what was destroyed or lost in the war - and, moreover, at a critical juncture, when many are still struggling with the war's effects. St Mungo's is still dealing with a flood of curse victims from the last battles. If you want to help those trying to rebuild their lives, grant them help - don't deprive the Ministry of the gold needed to help its citizens!" She sat with a huff.

Neville raised his wand, and - as usual - was picked by Doge. He nodded at the Chief Warlock, then spoke: "Honoured members of the Wizengamot! My esteemed colleague fails to realise that help to rebuild what destruction the war has wrought doesn't have to come from the Ministry. That is understandable, of course, given her origins. But those among us who were raised in an Old Family know our duty - if a relative suffers a calamity, we will help them. The gold saved by the proposed tax reductions will go to those among our extended families and friends who need it. The Ministry will be able to focus its still significant means on those people who lack such help. Overall, I would estimate that this will actually save the Ministry more through the consequent lowered expenditure that it will lose in revenue." And fewer people would have to beg the Ministry for help. Family should take care of each other, as was proper. "I, therefore, propose we accept this proposal."

Neville's smile at the approval from his peers slipped when he saw who was speaking after him.

"The Chair recognises the Minister for Magic."

Shacklebolt rose. "Honoured members of the Wizengamot! I beg to differ with Mr Longbottom's estimate that this proposal will save the Ministry money. While it might be true that the Ministry's expenses for rebuilding may be reduced, we cannot say this with any certainty since we lack hard numbers. However, we can say with certainty that in the long run, it will drastically cut into the Ministry's budget long after the rebuilding is completed. I, therefore, oppose this proposal."

That was a good point, Neville had to admit. However, as Madam Smith was quick to point out in her rebuttal, if the Ministry truly had a need for more gold at a later date, its budget could be discussed then - and that happened every year anyway.

Macmillan - apparently no longer sick or busy - rose to speak.

"Honoured members of the Wizengamot! While my own family would certainly profit from this proposal, I cannot, in good conscience, support it. My esteemed colleague, Madam Granger, and the Minister have clearly laid out the reasons why this proposal should be rejected. It is laudable to wish to support those of us who are still suffering from the effects of the war, but a blanket reduction in taxes is not the right way to achieve that. Too many who do not need help will benefit from this, while those in dire straits would need more than a paltry reduction in taxes. I, therefore, oppose this proposal."

Neville clenched his teeth as he glared at Mr Macmillan. So that was why the man hadn't joined them for the gathering at Greengrass Manor - he had switched sides!

And, worse - if Macmillan could do such a thing, then who else might do it?


London, Diagon Alley, October 20th, 1998

"...and I heard from Hannah, who heard it from Zacharias, who's best friends with Ernie Macmillan, that his father switched sides after a visit from Percy Weasley." Daphne sounded incredulous as she turned her head to look at Neville while hanging on his arm. "And it didn't even help them - Daddy's proposal passed."

Neville nodded. He wasn't certain how much longer Zacharias would be friends with Ernie, of course. Madam Smith would be furious at Mr Macmillan's betrayal. Unless... No. She was a tough witch. She wouldn't follow Mr Macmillan's example. She couldn't.

He kept an eye out for muggleborns waving glowing wands at them - there always seemed to be at least a few of them in Diagon Alley no matter what time you visited - as he answered Daphne. "Percy shouldn't be underestimated," he told her. "He's quite ambitious. He made a big blunder when he started out at the Ministry and broke with his family, but they made up, and he recovered."

If that even had been a real break-up - Neville wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to have used such a ploy to place a spy in a hostile Ministry. If the Headmaster hadn't even told Harry the truth about his connection to Voldemort, then he wouldn't have blinked at keeping that a secret from the rest of the Weasleys. Not that Neville was likely to ever hear the truth of the story, given his current differences with the Weasleys. And with Harry. And with Hermione.

He clenched his teeth. She had burned that bridge in the Wizengamot with her insults and arrogance.

"Ah." Daphne nodded. "Still, he must have promised Mr Macmillan something to switch sides. And it can't be a seat in their parliament even if they win since all members will be elected."

Neville chuckled without any trace of humour. "They can endorse him, which will likely get him elected. That's how muggles handle things."

The witch blinked. "So, they can hand seats to each other anyway? Reward each other? Granger didn't say anything about that."

"Well, it wouldn't fit her propaganda," Neville replied. "Although I guess all the muggleborns know that already."

"Well, we can be glad she didn't announce that - I gather a number of your colleagues would consider switching sides if they could keep their seats," Daphne said.

"She can't let too many keep their seats. Not after her relentless denouncing of all of us as oppressive bigots." Neville scoffed. But Daphne had a point - if Hermione and her supporters, especially the Weasleys, were now talking to selected members of the Wizengamot, things would get difficult in short order. More difficult. Ron's father was widely seen as an eccentric - and that was being polite - but he had risen through the ranks in in the Ministry, despite his poverty and lack of ties to an Old Family. And he had been an important member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. It would not pay to underestimate him.

A few minutes and a brief visit to Eric Greengrass's 'Curse-Breaking and Warding' shop later - which had been restored thanks to Daphne's father - they were about to head to 'Le Canard Vert' for some desserts that didn't come with scorn and hostility when they suddenly heard loud yelling. Neville had drawn his wand and taken a step in front of Daphne before he realised this wasn't another bunch of aggressive muggleborns. Two shopkeepers were facing each other, wands drawn.

"You stupid sell-out!"

"What? I'm not the one fomenting unrest and supporting those muggleborns!"

"My mum's a muggleborn - same as yours!"

"My mum's not the same as yours! She doesn't go out and bother peaceful people!"

"I bet that's because she's ashamed of her son selling out to the purebloods!"

"Ooh, you! Furnunculus!"

"Ah! Take that! Saberas!"

Neville felt almost embarrassed at the display. Two grown men, jinxing each other in the street - and with spells students at Hogwarts outgrew in their fifth year, at the latest. Fortunately, one of them being unable to see because of the boils covering his face, and the other too busy scratching himself everywhere made it easy for the Auror patrol headed their way to arrest them both.

Still, the incident had been quite different from casting a Wand-Lighting Charm in protest. If things grew worse and people started using curses instead of jinxes…

Neville shook his head. This could turn very bad very quickly.


Argyll and Bute, Macmillan Manor, October 22nd, 1998

Neville hadn't been to Macmillan Manor before - or, rather, he didn't remember his last visit; Gran had told him that his parents had taken him there when he had been a few months old, to meet Ernie.

"Neville! Welcome to my home!" Mr Macmillan smiled - his manners hadn't suffered despite his defection.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Neville nodded, not quite bowing. They weren't exactly friends - hadn't been friends even before this recent development.

"Please join me in the living room."

"Thank you."

Two minutes and many tapestries but few paintings later, they were sitting in old, comfortable leather armchairs, next to a bar stocked with lots of whiskeys - including muggle brands. Or at least, brands Neville wasn't familiar with but thought he remembered Seamus and Dean mentioning once. Or Harry.

He pressed his lips together at the stray thought.

If Mr Macmillan had noticed his slight lapse, he didn't show any reaction as he handed Neville a glass of 'the finest whisky in my cellar'. "I think I know why you're visiting me. You're not the first to want to persuade me to rethink my recent change of allegiance."

Neville shook his head, causing Mr Macmillan's eyebrows to rise in surprise. "I'm not here to try to convince you to return into the fold. I'm merely here because I would like to know why you've changed your allegiance."

"Ah!" Mr Macmillan nodded. "I should have expected that - it was your doing, after all, which prompted it. After a fashion."

"Sorry?" Neville cocked his head, unable to hide his own surprise. He had driven Mr Macmillan into the arms of Hermione and her supporters? How?

"Indeed." The old wizard nodded. "I wanted to follow your example, you know. Learn more about our opponents. So I read up on muggles and democracy." He snorted as he shook his head. "And it didn't take me long to realise that I would rather not end up like the French nobles."

Neville blinked. What had the Duc's Court to… ah. "The muggle nobles."

"Yes. The French Revolution… a ghastly affair." Once more Mr Macmillan shook his head before taking a sip of his whisky. "So much violence, so much hatred and so many deaths. And so many parallels to our own situation."

"It's not really comparable," Neville said. They weren't French, after all. "We don't have a king, everyone pays taxes - actually, everyone who owns land or a business does - and the situation for the muggleborns has been improving steadily since Dumbledore became Chief Warlock." He had studied the history of democracy as well, after all.

"Steadily improving, but for the recent war and assorted unpleasantness, you mean."

Neville frowned. He was certain that Hermione wouldn't appreciate such a flippant way of talking about Voldemort's reign of terror. "Yes," he said. He took a sip from his own glass and nodded. It was a good blend.

"But the muggleborns are out there, protesting - and they are getting louder and more daring. Just like in France." Mr Macmillan sighed. "And I know - thanks to you, and Ernie - that we don't have the numbers to win, or even survive, should things get out of hand. There are too many muggleborns and half-bloods."

"Not all the half-bloods are supporting Hermione," Neville retorted. They didn't have a majority.

"Every half-blood has a muggleborn or muggle parent. If things come down to blood and nothing else, they won't die for purebloods. Not even all purebloods would."

Neville sighed. "So, you changed sides because you're afraid of Hermione and her friends?" He stared at his host.

Mr Macmillan didn't grow angry, though - he laughed. "I'm no Gryffindor! But it's more than that. I'm acting in the best interest of my family."

Neville knew which family he meant. "You hope you can keep your seat."

The other wizard inclined his head. "I think as a vocal supporter of Miss Granger's plans, I have a good chance of being elected, once it comes to that. They will have more voters, after all."

And Mr Macmillan would have his extended family voting for him as well, Neville knew.

"But even if I lose the seat, I will get to keep my family's fortune - and I will not alienate the majority of my businesses' customers."

Neville frowned. "I haven't heard anything about a boycott."

"Neither have I, but I would be a fool if I didn't take it into account." Mr Macmillan spread his hands. "Numbers don't lie."

And neither did they fight for what was right. Neville sighed. "But was it necessary to… surprise us like this? You didn't show up when we were expecting you, and you didn't call us, either."

Mr Macmillan looked slightly embarrassed. "I didn't want to appear as if I were spying on you." He grinned - a little forced, Neville thought. "But I also didn't want to give the Greengrass Circle advance warning of my plans."

'Greengrass Circle'? Neville frowned. They were meeting at Greengrass Manor, but that made it sound as if Mr Greengrass led the group when, in reality, they had no set leader, and Neville did as much for them as Mr Greengrass. Or even more.

"After seeing for weeks what you did to Miss Granger, I didn't intend to give you time to prepare." Mr Macmillan laughed, briefly. "You're very impressive, Mr Longbottom, if you're engaged in a matter."

Neville smiled, though he didn't feel like it. This flattery was useless; Mr Macmillan had changed sides, and no amount of polite compliments would change that - or prevent the consequences it would have. "Did you consider the effect your decision would have on your son?"

"Effect?"

"He's friends with Zacharias Smith and his fiancée," Neville pointed out.

"Ah." Mr Macmillan chuckled. "I don't think that it will be a problem."

Did that mean he expected Madam Smith to join him? Or had he spoken with her about this already? Or was he bluffing, trying to rattle Neville? "I see," Neville said, nodding. He didn't - but two could play this game.

Even though he knew that once the news spread - and Neville didn't doubt that Ernie, and probably Zacharias as well, were busy telling their friends what had happened and explaining why Ernie's father had done this - there would be more of Neville's peers thinking about following Mr Macmillan's example.

And with every member who changed sides, the pressure on the remaining members to also do so would rise.

The 'Greengrass Circle' would have to do something about this. If they could.


London, Diagon Alley, October 23rd, 1998

"There haven't been any muggleborns around today," Daphne remarked as they walked through Diagon Alley.

Neville frowned at her. "Did you have to say that?"

"Why?" She looked puzzled. "You don't think…"

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

Neville felt her jerk and tug on his arm as three muggleborns - or half-bloods - waved their glowing wands at them from a side-alley. He ignored them and turned to her. "You had to say it, hm?"

Daphne pouted, which made her look very cute. "It doesn't work that way; we learned that in Divination."

"Apparently, no one told them," Neville replied with a faint grin.

She huffed. "Anyway, with the daily harassment over, let's go and check Flourish and Blotts."

"Do you want another book on muggles? I could loan you one." He had a growing muggle library, and Daphne had voiced her interest in learning more after he had informed her and her father about his meeting with Mr Macmillan.

"I like to mark my study books," she said.

He almost said 'I'm not Hermione: I won't kill you for writing in a book' but managed to control himself. Given recent developments and concerns, that would have been in very poor taste. And he didn't like thinking about his former friend when he was trying to relax with Daphne. So he nodded. "Let's go, then."

They were halfway to the shop when they heard yelling.

Neville frowned - what was going on? There weren't any muggleborn rallies scheduled. He would know - he kept an eye on them.

Daphne must have thought the same thing since she tugged on his arm. "Let's see what's going on!"

Neville wasn't certain whether that was a good idea, but… it was the middle of the day, in Diagon Alley. And he was confident he could handle trouble. He had faced Voldemort, after all.

So they went further down the Alley until they turned the corner in the southern third and faced a small crowd of wizards and witches - all of them wearing proper robes. And there was one wizard standing on a small pedestal - an upturned chest, Neville noticed - addressing the crowd. "Will we stay our wands and do nothing while those people who know nothing about magic and our country try to ruin it?"

"No!" the crowd yelled.

"Will we stand aside and let them harass us when we're shopping?"

"No!" The yells grew louder. And - was that a 'mudblood' Neville had heard?

"Let's take back our Alley!" the wizard yelled.

"Yes!"

"Let's drive them out!"

"Hex the mudbloods!"

"Down with the mudbloods!"

The crowd turned, people drawing wands - and came straight towards them. Neville froze for a moment. They were almost two dozen. If they had some skill at Defence…

But they cheered when they saw him and Daphne.

"Longbottom!"

"Greengrass!"

"Give the mudbloods hell!"

"Our hero!"

"You tell 'em!"

Neville wanted to hex the lot. Mudbloods? His parents had lost their minds fighting Death Eaters! He wasn't opposing Hermione so the blood bigots could crawl out from where they had been hiding!

But they were smiling at him - and they had their wands drawn. If he told them off, this could turn ugly - and he had Daphne with him. But if he didn't do anything, they would storm the Alley. And he hadn't seen an Auror patrol around.

He cast a quick Amplifying Charm. "Stop!"

The closest wizards and witches flinched. The rabble-rouser blinked. "What?"

Neville pressed his lips together for a moment. He hated this, but he didn't see a better option. He couldn't curse a group who hadn't done anything. Yet. "They are waiting for you!" he said. "If you start attacking muggleborns, they'll be ready."

"We can take mudbloods!" the heckler yelled.

"You can't take Aurors," Neville yelled back. "And you certainly can't take The-Boy-Who-Lived. Or his friends. If you start trouble, they'll finish you. Like they finished Voldemort."

They looked stunned for a moment. Lips moving without anyone saying anything. A few cringed at hearing the name.

"But we can't let them destroy our country!" one witch yelled. It sounded as if she were crying.

"We won't let them destroy our country," Neville replied. "Trust us!"

He felt sick even as he made the crowd back down. He didn't want to help bigots. But he couldn't let them start a fight. Harry and the other Aurors would be on them quickly - and things would escalate. In the Wizengamot, and on the streets.

And, worst of all, he felt as if he were lying to them. He didn't think he would be able to save the country. Not any more.