Disclaimer: This all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Author's Notes: Sorry that this chapter took so long! I was just so bogged down with examinations, and after that I went on a much needed and restful holiday, and have not had the time to get back to this story till now. Hopefully all of you will enjoy this new chapter, and once again thanks for all the wonderful reviews!

Chapter 18: Neville Longbottom

"Okay Longbottom, take deep breaths alright? In, out, in out…and…just…try not to throw up on these library books while we're gone?" With that, Draco left a green and obviously queasy looking Neville Longbottom by his seat in one of the reading room's of the library while he left to shout at…no, no, not shout, discuss, yes, discuss about what that bloody witch had just gone and done without any warning whatsoever.

To make a long story short, Hermione had blurted out what she had believed to be the meaning of the prophecy: that Neville had taken on the role vacated by Potter, and was now the one who either had to kill or be killed by Voldemort himself.

To be perfectly honest, Draco thought that this 'interpretation' of hers was total bollocks.

It's not that he doubted Hermione's intelligence. He, of all people knew that she ran circles around him in terms of the intellectual stakes. But for Merlin's sake, this was Neville Longbottom!

He now of course doubted Hermione's sanity.

Turning back before he closed the door to the room, he gazed upon Longbottom who had, thankfully not yet thrown up in his presence. Well, best leave him to it then! Thought Draco as he quickly slammed the door just as he glimpsed a frightening lurch from Longbottom's shoulders.

Truly, Draco could not blame him for his terror. It was not every day that someone told you that you were the one to kill one of the greatest and most evil wizards of our age. It was as if you were strolling along a park, nice as you please, and suddenly someone ran up to you and announced that you had five seconds to dismantle a bomb or the whole world would go to the cleaners.

Potter had years to get used to the idea, that he was Voldemort's Numero Uno target, that, between the two of them, it was kill or be killed.

But Longbottom was just…Longbottom.

To be sure, no one had ever expected much of him. Yes, he was good with plants, yes, of all the Gryffindors, he would be the first to back you up if you ever had any trouble and ever needed someone to be there with you. He'd probably faint in fright before he got any action of course, but the important thing was he would be there.

However, the fact that Dumbledore had given him fifty house points for standing up to and ultimately getting cursed by the trio in first year spoke volumes on what exactly was expected of one Neville Frank Longbottom. He was always expected to be the one on the sidelines, the one to cheer on the heroes, the wingman, the bumbling supporting character with the tragic subplot, and not the big hero trampling down the doors. That was more of Harry's, Hermione's, and might Draco say it, yes, even more of the Weasel's role. Not this. Never this. The fact that they had come down to Neville Longbottom as England's sole saviour put their situation in a startlingly stark light.

He sighed. If Hermione is right…then we're never going to make it, are we?

Outside the door the witch in question burst out before he could say anything, "Alright I know I shouldn't have just blurted it out in front of him just now, but Draco, I know I'm right!"

He lifted an eyebrow while she stared back at him defiantly. Well, at the very least, it was obvious his life was going to be very…interesting in the future, if they did survive.

"Hermione, do you know that Neville's probably just thrown up in there? I think it's pretty much an understatement when you said that you probably shouldn't have told him about what you think the prophecy to mean."

"What do you mean, what I think it to mean?" said Hermione as her voice rose in volume, her hackles rising at his scathing tone.

"What I mean is how can you be so certain it's him anyway? I mean, come on, let's all be frank here, Longbottom's a nice bloke and all but he's not exactly hero material. You saw him at Godric's Hollow! The guy was easily subdued by Bellatrix and was dancing the cancan under the Imperius!"

"That doesn't mean anything! Draco, listen to me, he was born at the end of July, same as Harry, and his parents had defied Voldemort three times, same as Harry's!

"But – " he began before she cut him off. "But nothing! Both of them fit in the prophecy perfectly, and Harry only became the one talked about in the prophecy because Voldemort chose him instead of Neville. Now Neville has received the mark as well! The prophecy has turned to Neville! It makes perfect sense!" Hermione's cheeks shone red with excitement as she explained her findings to him and, for the love of Merlin, Draco found himself having no more inclination to shout or even disagree with her.

Unexpectedly he reached out to twirl one of her soft messy curls around his finger and she started, surprised. "And so what?" he said softly, "So what if Neville fits the description of the person talked about in the prophecy? You saw him; the boy can't hold a wand without trembling from here to China. He's not suitable for combat." Slowly, deliberately, he pulled her closer and closer till she was flush against his chest. Her eyes widened and now her cheeks were red for an entirely different reason altogether. She could hear every breath that he took, every beat of his racing heart.

He continued playing with her hair and, for the love of Merlin, she no longer felt like arguing with him. Drat the man! "But didn't you say he knocked Ginny out with a vase? I thought you said he was brave."

"Yes, yes, yes," he whispered next to her ear, and her heart seemed to leap joyfully and painfully at his words, "and after he knocked her out he would have been avaded if I hadn't been there to stun the Death Eater behind him."

He sighed again, and smiled one of his secret smiles for her. The kind of smile that was not a smirk and not a sneer but a slight quirk of the lips, the kind of smile that promised everything and held back nothing. "Must we fight about this? Can't we just stop terrorizing the poor boy for the time being, and make sure that he really is the one the prophecy speaks of? I mean, what can we do for now, anyway?"

"But Draco, we're running out of time…"

They were interrupted however once again by a considerably less green-looking Neville, who stumbled out the door, and, after righting himself, stared shamefully at his feet.

"Look, I…I'm sorry that I freaked out like that just now. It's just…you know, a lot to take?" he laughed weakly and looked up at them, unsure of himself.

Hermione smiled encouragingly at him while Draco scowled. He didn't like the way this conversation was going.

Longbottom sighed. "I'm r-really not Harry you know. I don't have all his, his powers and his strength," he waved his arm around for emphasis. "And I'm not as smart or as powerful as you either Hermione…and you, of course Malfoy." He amended hastily after an evil look from Draco.

"But…I j-just wanted to let you know that, you know, not that we really know whether this prophecy thing is true or not, but well, I just wanted to say that, well…" He took a deep breath and continued, "No matter what, I will be willing to do anything I can to help defeat Vol-Vol…You-Know-Who."

"That's great news Neville!" cried Hermione, her eyes shining. "Oh I couldn't have hoped for anything else! This is just so fantastic! We have to start training as soon as possible, no time to waste! First thing tomorrow morning I will owl Moody and we'll see what we can do about him training you for the battles ahead, and then maybe I'll see if Hagrid can scrounge up some blast-ended skrewts or something for practice, or maybe Charlie can get a dragon…or would that be asking too much?"

She soon lacked an audience however as Neville fainted dead away and dropped like a stone on the floor.

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"That's great news Neville! You're the saviour of the UK Neville! This is just sooo bloody fantastic! Ooh we have to start training as soon as possible, no time to waste! How about I get a dragon for you Neville? Wouldn't that be just lovely?" Draco mimicked in a high voice and glared at Hermione as the both of them levitated an unconscious Neville to the infirmary.

"Oh just stop it Malfoy! No one asked for your opinion." Hermione sniped nastily back at him.

"Well I'm not giving one alright Granger? I'm merely repeating what you said. Your words were just so effective I just had to say them all over again!" Neville's head hit the staircase with a loud thump but neither of them noticed.

"Well, if it weren't for you being so contemptuous about the whole thing and glaring at him all the way, maybe he wouldn't have fainted!"

Thump.

"Or, here's an idea, maybe he wouldn't have fainted if he weren't such a bloody chicken shit!"

Thump.

"If I didn't know better Draco Malfoy, I'd say you were jealous!"

Thump. Thump.

"Jealous! Me? Of that…that…of Longbottom! The man's a flobberworm compared to me!" shouted Draco hysterically.

THUMP.

"Ah-ha! Jealous!" Hermione screamed triumphantly at him. "You see you're jealous because he's the one who will kill Voldemort and not you, and you can't stand that a man you deem lesser than you could be more powerful!"

"I don't give a rat's arse who kills that wanker! I just…"

"Hermione…"

The both of them stopped their quibbling and snapped their heads as one towards the beds on the left side of the room as they heard the eerie whimper.

Staring right at them was Ginny Weasley, eyes wide and frightened, and Hermione knew at once that that was Ginny, and not the repugnant fake who had controlled her body for so long.

"Hermione," she said again, her voice high and weak, shuddering as if from some kind of exertion, "Help me, please."

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Author's Notes: I know this was quite short, but I wanted to get it out quickly. Thanks for reading and reviewing!