Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling

Author's Notes: I apologize if this is full of errors, I wanted to get this chapter out quickly before I put it off again, like I had been doing for weeks! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this. Please review if you do, it's what's keeping me writing!

Chapter 23

One could say that there was definitely a sense of expectation in the air. Yet it was expectation tempered with a reluctance to hope for too much; because they'd all been here before, hadn't they? When victory was supposedly oh-so-near at hand, and look where that had got them all.

It was because of these dampened expectations that no one really cheered or whooped out loud when Hermione told them the news of Draco being able to access Voldemort's mind. This of course, caused Hermione to feel very put out indeed.

"Well? Everyone? Don't you see? We have a chance to defeat him now!"

A very insolent "How?" was heard from Lavender.

Honestly, that girl, thought Hermione.

"Well, Lavender," she replied somewhat bossily, as was her nature, "Now that we can access his mind, we will be able to know all of his movements, and I mean all of them. Wherever he is, wherever he goes, we'll know it!"

Before she could continue however, an otherwise subdued Neville spoke out, "But…so what if we know where he is?"

She whipped around to look at him, the adrenaline in her blood draining, just a little.

"What do you mean, so what? If we know where he is we can go find him. And it won't be like the last time because this time we'll take him by surprise! We'll know all his plans and his movements!"

He shook his head, silently and disbelievingly, before saying again, this time as soft as a dormouse, "It won't matter. It won't matter. Even if we do catch him unawares…we still won't be able to defeat him. I won't be able to defeat him."

Murmurs started around the room, but everything had gone quiet for Hermione as Neville's words hit her. As if from far away, she could hear Draco telling him not to be a ponce and a coward.

She…she hadn't thought of that. It was true that, at the moment, Neville was in no shape to deal with Voldemort. However, for some reason, she'd thought that he would magically gain the powers he needed, once it was time for the final confrontation. He was The One, wasn't he? It would come to him naturally, wouldn't it?

"But…but Neville," she spluttered, dumbstruck, "The prophecy…you're the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord. That's…that's what it said." She laughed weakly, "Oh don't be silly, of course you'll be able to defeat him, you'll have something special he doesn't know about. It'll come to you, surely."

"And what do I have Hermione, that he doesn't know about? What bloody magical thing do I possess that he does not already? Baby fat? A propensity for clumsiness? What special thing have I got?"

It was only the second time that Hermione had seen Neville Longbottom this worked up. The first was when he'd stomped on Bellatrix's dead body. His cheeks were red and his chest heaving, as if he needed to take those deep breaths to calm himself down.

The room however, was silent after his outburst. They all knew he was right, even Hermione, no matter how she'd tried her best to think otherwise. Neville…well, he'd never been hero material, had he? His spells were shite, he couldn't run if packs of ravenous wolves were chasing behind him, he tended to trip over stray objects a lot, and, worse of all, he usually froze up in terror whenever confronted with difficult situations.

A long minute passed as the reality of Neville's lack of abilities sunk in. And now the mood of the room started to edge towards despair, as the occupants of the room began to contemplate how impossible their situation was, even with the kind of vital information Hermione had been able to give them.

"Well," said Draco suddenly, breaking the silence, "You've got us."

Everyone looked at him in surprise.

"What?" he said defensively, as his face turned sheepish, "Look, I know that sounds really sappy but…what do you think most of Voldemort's followers feel for him? With the exception of the Lestranges of course, they have the excuse of insanity."

"Fear," said Hermione, the truth of what Draco was saying dawning upon her all of a sudden. Her eyes shone as she warmed to the topic, "They fear him. Probably hate him. Even if they believe in his ideology, Voldemort's not known to be above killing or torturing his own followers. I don't think they'd love him for that."

"Exactly!" burst out Draco, "You, on the other hand…well I can't say I love you…but I'm sure there are others here who do. I mean…even if I don't love you I don't exactly hate you…well, I mean…I more than don't hate you…I…I respect you…wait, no…well…I like you at the very least. That should count for something, shouldn't it?" He turned his very panicked and red face to Hermione, looking for rescue. Around him the other members of the Order were trying very hard not to laugh, Hermione included. Certainly, professing his 'love' for Neville was probably something the formerly bullying Slytherin had never thought he'd have to do.

Neville, for one looked highly surprised. "You…you like me? I've always thought you despised me. Well…recently you haven't been making fun of as much…and nowadays you only try to curse me during training…"

Draco cut in desperately before Neville could say anymore, "Don't push it, Longbottom! I'm at the very end of my rope here, I am. Just…take what you can get, alright!"

This time, the room did explode in laughter.

An incredibly tickled Fred guffawed loudly, holding his stomach while trying to get the words out, "Yes, Nev, we love you. Just like ickle Draco here loves you…Hahahahaha!"

"It's not funny you know," Draco whined.

"No Neville, seriously." Hermione put her hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her with such hope in his eyes. The poor boy. When was the last time anyone believed in him? He looked as though he had been starving for someone to say these words to him. He needed to hear it so much it shone though in his hungry eyes.

She smiled, and said, "I love you, as a very dear friend. Everyone in this room, I believe, even Draco (and here she winked) loves you, very much. We all believe in you. And I'm not trying to be sappy here, because obviously love alone is not going to make the world alright, it's not going to be bunnies and rainbows and…and everlasting books to read ("AHEM!" coughed Draco loudly) just because we love you. We have to face up to reality. Fear, such as one that is engendered by Voldemort can cause one to do incredible deeds, heinous deeds, yes, but nonetheless incredible." A knowing silence engulfed the room. Being in this war, everyone had known that kind of fear some time or another, some more intimately than others. They all knew what it felt like, and the things it could make them do.

"But believe this: We'll be here, with you, always. We'll never let you carry this burden alone. You can always count on us for anything. You'll never walk alone, Neville. And that's more than what Voldemort can say. Already there, you have an advantage: people who follow you out of love, and not out of fear. And something else he doesn't know about – what it feels like to be loved, what it feels like to love."

And it wasn't much and it might not even be enough at all, in the end, but for now, it was sufficient, at least for Neville.

Looking embarrassed, yet happy, he stammered out, "Al…alright. I'm…sorry for what I said earlier, and for being so negative Hermione. I'll…I'll train harder I guess. I'll get better. I'll not let you down. I…I may not be as strong as Harry…may never be as good as him, but I'll give as good as I've got to that evil bugger."

Just like that, the mood in the room had lightened, and Hermione exhaled in relief. She gave a thankful smile to Draco, who winked cockily in return.

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"…I'm worried that most of our gains are due to the surprise he's feeling that, even without Harry and Dumbledore, we still haven't crumbled to pieces. He's finding out that we're not really the toothless lions he thought we were without them; that the Order is not merely made up of just Harry and Dumbledore. What he additionally forgot was that wounded lions are the most dangerous. It would do us well to remember that too. We have to be cautious about Voldemort regrouping and fighting back."

Draco placed an easy arm around her shoulder, giving her a light kiss on her cheek.

"We'll do alright," he said, simply, and then he gave her a hugely handsome smile, one that made her unable to resist grinning up at him in return, pointing to himself arrogantly with his thumb, "With me around, we won't make the same mistake he did."

As always, he knew what to do to make her relax, to calm her down. With him she could feel like everything would turn out for the better, "Is that so?" she replied, arching her eyebrow in a caricature of how he did it to express his doubt.

He slipped his arm to her waist, and pulled her flush against him, an action that caused her cheeks to colour prettily. They hadn't gone very much for public displays of affection, and so she felt a bit nervous as they walked like this towards the Great Hall. It was times like this, walking down the hallways like an everyday couple that made her marvel at all that had happened in their lives. Draco Malfoy was her boyfriend! It gave her odd shivers to think it.

But then a shout interrupted their teasing, and they turned to see a slight blond haired girl running towards them, face red and half out of breath.

She paused, her hands on her knees, stooping a little to catch her breath, and then she did something very odd indeed; odd, at least, to Draco.

She looked at him, and then she looked away, turning to speak with Hermione.

An outsider might find nothing wrong with what she did at all, but really, the girl had been a Slytherin! Just yesterday she had still been reporting to him, as well as trying to flirt with him and shooting disdainful glances at Hermione whenever she thought he wasn't looking. Why would she look away from him so deliberately, and speak to Hermione instead?

And then he found out why.

"Granger…"

"Yes?" Hermione replied, disengaging herself from Draco's suddenly tight grip.

"It's Lucius Malfoy. He's at the gates, and he wants to speak to Draco."

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