A/N: Before anyone gets too excited, I have to say I'm only posting two chapters up at the moment. Writing is being done on the last section of this story but it's going very slowly. However, I'm posting two new updates because it leaves the story in a better place, and at least there'll be some closure on a couple of issues that many people have been wondering about for some time. ;)

Therefore, enjoy, and I hope you have a very Happy Christmas!

x – X – x

Chapter 54 – Loose ends

Neville Longbottom frowned at the small sound outside the curtains and glanced nervously at his watch. He'd sneaked out of school earlier that night, with no real idea why, just knowing that he didn't want to spend another evening sitting in the common room with the rest of his classmates, listening anxiously to the radio for any news on Voldemort.

He'd ended up in London, and after that it had only seemed natural to go to Saint Mungos. Visiting hours were long since over, but he'd managed to sneak into the ward without being seen, and since the curtains were nearly always drawn around his parents' beds, there wasn't much risk of anyone discovering him unless they actually came right into the ward. Which someone had.

Quietly, trying to make as little noise as possible, he crept over to the curtains and peered out. There was a figure standing by one of the beds which held long term patients, but whoever it was wasn't a nurse; even in this dim light he could see the person wasn't wearing the distinctive robes of a Healer. He drew back slightly as the figure moved, appearing to consider the sleeping woman in the bed, then stifled a gasp as one hand knocked back the hood of the travelling cloak and he saw who it was.

Black hair hung loose around her shoulders, contrasting sharply with her pale face and even from this angle he recognised her as the woman in the papers. He swallowed hard, wondering what to do. Did he stay put and pray she didn't detect him, or did he make a break for it and try and warn someone?

Then she pulled a wand out of her pocket, frowning down at the sleeping woman before her and he made his decision. Wrapping his fingers around his own wand he paused one second longer, then burst out of the curtains, running full pelt towards the ward doors, not even trying to stun the figure because he knew she'd dodge in time.

He saw her head jerk up, eyes widen in shock, and then he was feet from the door, reaching out to push it open, fingers brushing the wood-

Something hard hit him in the back, knocking him flying and slamming his head into the door as he fell. He tried to move, to throw a curse back behind him, but he'd fallen on top of his wand arm and whatever it was that had hit him was now on his back, pinning him to the floor.

By his ear, something growled, and tiny pinpricks of pain dug into his shoulders. Ok, not human, definitely some sort of animal. Some sort of animal with claws – very sharp claws.

He looked sideways, back down the length of the ward, expecting at any moment to see a pair of feet walk into his line of vision and a cold face stare down at him, but nothing happened. Above him, the creature had stopped growling, and by the slight shift in it's weight, he guessed it was sitting up, maybe listening for the sounds of approaching Healers.

After about a minute, however, the pressure on his back was lifted, and he could move again. He lay where he was for a moment, trying to work out what was going on, then, very slowly, he sat up. Turn around, urged the small voice in his head, as he checked his wand to made sure it hadn't been damaged in the fall. Just turn around. Refusing to look at the danger won't make it go away.

He closed his eyes, trying to stop his hand trembling, and then turned.

Katherine Riddle was sitting cross legged before him, resting her back against the foot of a bed. The photographs in the Daily Prophetreally didn't do her justice, he thought obscurely, but then, how could they? Pictures showed an image, and this woman had her own atmosphere.

Deep blue eyes gazed at him, half shadowed in the low light, and Neville got the distinctly uneasy feeling that she was seeing right through him, learning everything about him from that one piercing look.

And then she grinned, and the air of foreboding mystery was destroyed.

"Sorry about that," she said lightly, tilting her head back so that it rested on the bar that ran across the bottom of the bed. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Neville stared at her in bewilderment, unable to manage anything apart from a blank: "No."

"Well that's alright then," she smiled, blue eyes never leaving his face. It was quite unnerving, really, the way she gave you her complete attention. "You remind me of someone. What's your name?"

"Neville," he answered truthfully, too stunned to attempt a lie.

"Surname," she said, giving him an amused look.

"Longbottom."

"Longbottom? You don't look much like- oh, but he married Alice, didn't he? So you're Frank and Alice's son." She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him, so he didn't respond, but then she frowned, as a thought occurred to her. "Where areyour parents? I mean, they're Aurors, aren't they? Frank was there when I got arrested, but I haven't seen him since, well, since then, actually."

Neville's stare was incredulous this time. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" she asked, a worried frown creasing her forehead.

"They're-" He stopped, not able or willing to get to the words out, and shrugged. "They're over there," he said quietly, gesturing a hand to the closed curtains at the end of the ward.

Riddle's frown increased, her intense gaze moving to the curtains and Neville could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she worked it out.

"What happened?" she asked eventually, voice surprisingly gentle, and it was this that made Neville answer.

"They were tortured by Death Eaters," he said hollowly, watching closely to see her reaction.

"Bella." It wasn't a question, more like a sigh. "I'm sorry. She's a bit...mental." Neville saw her grimace at her choice of words and look back at him, a look in her eyes that he might have regarded as contrite if it had been anyone else. "Sorry."

"Why? You didn't do it," he said, surprised at his own daring.

"Didn't kill Bella either, though, did I?" she replied, scowling. "And it's not like I've never had an opportunity. Still, I think it's about time we had it out – it's either me or her, and I'm damned if it's going to be me."

"You want to kill Bellatrix Lestrange?" asked Neville, unable to disguise his astonishment.

"More than I want to destroy Tom." She grinned savagely, hauling herself to her feet. "And luckily for me, Bella's a damn sight easier to kill."

"Who's Tom?"

"A very nasty man," she said, casting another look at the drawn curtains. "He was a damn good Auror, your father. Good friend, too."

"Friend?" asked Neville, gaping at her and she glanced round, catching his expression and laughing.

"Oh not mine," she said quickly, grinning. "Just...in general. Very good Gryffindor, Frank."

"You were in his year at school," said Neville quietly, gazing up at her, and she looked surprised.

"Yeah I was. Who told you that?"

"My grandmother," answered Neville. "Said there was a rumour you were going out with Sirius Black, too."

"All the things I've done and that still attracts interest," sighed Katherine, looking skywards. "Haven't the faintest idea why." She shrugged and moved back to the bed she'd been standing by earlier.

"Is it true?" Katherine turned her head, cocking one eyebrow at him.

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing, I just- He fought for us, that's all," said Neville in a small voice, watching her guardedly.

"Fought for you?" Katherine's eyebrows were drawn together in a frown now, blue eyes curious. "What do you mean 'fought'?"

"He died."

"Yes I know th-" She stopped, blinking. "I know that. How do youknow that?"

"I saw him," said Neville, shifting uncomfortably under her intense stare.

"You were there?" she asked, sounding a little stunned. "In the Department of Mysteries?"

Neville nodded, and she gazed at him for a long moment before turning away and saying no more. After standing where he was for a good few minutes, he worked up the nerve to walk to the end of the bed she was standing over. The name of the patient was written on the small square of white card on the wall over the bed, but it was hard to make out in this light; he thought it might start with H.

"Do you know her?" he asked, and she glanced up, examining him for a moment before replying.

"Not personally."

"You on a mission?" he asked quickly, before his temporary courage deserted him.

"It's a crusade," she grinned, looking so mischievous for a moment that he had to repress a smile himself. "I'm not going to hurt her."

"Going to heal her?" asked Neville sceptically, and she shrugged.

"Going to try."

Neville stared at her for a moment before deciding she was serious. He looked back at the woman, pale and small under the white sheets and shook his head.

"But she's been in here for years," he said, and it was true. He'd passed her bed hundreds of times when he'd come to visit his parents, though he'd never really paid her much heed; sometimes there were a couple of men with her too – her husband and son he thought he'd heard the healers say. "She's been here longer than-" he hesitated for a second, then ploughed on "-longer than my parents. There's never been any response from her."

"Yes, well, the Healers have regulations to adhere to, don't they?" said Katherine softly, regarding the woman with a thoughtful air. "Not allowed to be very...experimental."

"I won't let you hurt her," said Neville firmly, surprised once more at his own daring, but determined to carry through with his vow nevertheless.

"I told you – I'm not going to," said Katherine gently, turning her head to look at him with those impossibly blue eyes. "If you had the choice, would you want your parents back?"

"What?" he asked, stunned.

"Would you?"

"There's nothing anyone can do for them," he said uncertainly, eyes darting towards the drawn curtains. Katherine's eyes rested on the curtains too, and sighed unhappily.

"No, but there is something I can do for her," she said, gesturing at the sleeping woman before her. "And there are people who want her back, one of whom I am indebted to, so don't you think I rather owe it to said person to at least try? Or do I just leave her like this for the rest of her life and let everyone else get on with living theirs?" The eyebrow was raised again, sapphire eyes boring into him, and Neville swallowed, very much hoping he wasn't going to regret this...

x – X – x

"Do you really think he can do it?" asked Tonks, leaning against the wall of the lift and peering meditatively at the memos fluttering above her head. "I mean Dumbledore-"

"Shh," said Kingsley sharply as the lift stopped and a cool female voice announced: 'Level 6, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Center'

"It's totally out of the question!" The yell came from a man standing at the end of the corridor and was directed at the blond man now stepping into the lift.

"You've got thirty days to sign, Mr Corbelle," replied the man cheerfully, giving the other man a little wave as the door slid shut once more. "Honestly, people these days," he said softly, grinning to himself.

"Filed another lawsuit?" asked Kingsley, eyeing the newcomer with a guarded expression.

"Divorce case," replied the man, giving him a bright smile. "Best thing is my brother's his boss so he's got to be nice to me." The smile faded a little and light brown eyes considered Kingsley wryly. "But then of course you probably know all about my brother."

"We keep tabs on a lot of people, Avery," answered Kingsley tactfully and the other man grinned ruefully.

"I bet you do." There was a pause as the lift creaked it's way up to Level 2, then the man said softly: "He's not a bad person."

"Not many of them are."

"Got any tabs on me?"

"You can hardly suppose we'd tell you if we did, Christopher," sighed Kingsley as the lift shuddered to a stop and the voice proclaimed: 'Level 2, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administrations Services'

"Worth a try," shrugged Christopher, stepping out of the lift and grinning at the two Aurors before heading off to his own department. Tonks exchanged a look with Kingsley, who rolled his eyes heavenward.

"Oh he's not a DE – his brothers on the other hand..." He lifted one shoulder and let it fall as they reached their cubicles. "We know Robert is, and Philip's certainly eager enough."

"Guess we'll find out in a week," said Tonks softly, careful to keep her voice low. Kingsley nodded, dark eyes casting a look around the office.

"Better start preparing," he muttered, pretending to examine a new notice on security measures pinned to the wall, and Tonks grinned.

"Understood," she beamed, turning on her heel and heading towards her own cubicle. Harry had tracked her down that morning at Remus' flat, and told her of his plans, asking for help recruiting trustworthy Aurors and other Order members, all of which she had subsequently relayed to Kingsley. She dropped her bag on the floor by her feet and slumped into her chair, glancing at the pile of paperwork that was mounting up on the desk.

His plan was good, she had to admit.

Very good.

Provided it worked.

She sighed, gaze moving to the picture of Remus and her stuck to the cubicle wall. Oh yes, Harry's plan was good, but it rather relied on a certain person proving trustworthy. She pulled the picture off the wall and looked sternly at her husband, who grinned up at her.

"You better be right about her."

x – X – x

As the Healer led the way up to the fourth floor of Saint Mungos, Toby cast a nervous glance at his father who was striding along beside him, walking cane tapping on the marble floor, a carefully impassive look on his lined face.

The Healers had sent an urgent owl to his father that morning, but it hadn't said much other than that there had been a change in his wife's condition and would he to come to Saint Mungos as soon as possible with his son. This was the reason they were both now trailing after the sharp looking Healer that had greeted them in the entrance hall, wondering what was awaiting them in the ward above.

"Isn't it this way?" asked Toby, when they reached the fourth floor and the Healer strode purposefully towards a corridor on the left. The Healer paused, glancing back, and shook her head.

"We had to move her – she was making such a fuss."

"A fuss?" asked Toby's father blankly, more wrinkles appearing on his forehead as he frowned. "Elspeth was making a fuss?"

The Healer nodded, and motioned towards a door a little way down the corridor. "She's just in here."

Toby exchanged a bewildered look with his father, whose grey eyes looked pained, and willed his feet to move the few steps towards the closed door. He put his hand on the door knob and the Healer gave him an encouraging nod.

Fingers trembling, Toby pushed open the door and peered in. It was a small room with pale pink walls lit by lamps, the only source of light; he supposed windows weren't a good idea on a level where most of the occupants were insane.

He took all of this in within a few seconds and spent the next minute just staring at the hunched figure that sat on the lone bed, long unkempt hair masking her face. The attempt at a greeting died in his throat, one hand gripping the door jamb for support, as the woman on the bed rocked slowly back and forth, breathing shakily.

"Go on – she's been asking for you," said the Healer softly, and he looked at her, a lost expression on his face.

"Asking for me?"

"She wanted to know where Toby was," replied the Healer, smiling sympathetically. "Her son. That is you, isn't it?"

Toby looked back at his mother, unable to move; even if she had finally come out of her twenty four year stupor, he could hardly suppose she would recognise him. Sure he'd visited her, but she'd never really looked at him, and he'd never been entirely convinced that she'd ever heard anything he said.

He tore his gaze away from her and looked down the corridor at his father who hadn't moved since the Healer had announced the move; he looked terrified.

"Dad?" he asked, not sure he could do this on his own.

"Toby?" The shrill voice brought his attention sharply back to the woman in the room. She'd stopped rocking and was looking up at him, face wide eyed and tearstained. "Toby?"

Toby stared at her, into eyes that were the same dark brown as his, and felt something inside him give way as she scrambled off the bed and flung her arms around him, sobbing. She recognised him. How on earth did she recognise him?

Behind him, he heard the hurried thump of a cane as his father stumbled forward, grey eyes staring in hopeless disbelief at his wife, hanging from the neck of his son.

"Elspeth?" he breathed, as Toby put a shoulder under his mother's arms to support her weak legs.

"Harry," she whispered, gazing at him through her tears and reaching out a thin arm to touch his face. "You've gotten old." She smiled feebly, allowing Toby to maneuver her back onto the bed. "So have I. And look at you," she continued, gripping Toby's arm with a strength that belied her frail frame. "All grown up."

Toby looked towards the doorway where the Healer still stood, waiting to see if she would be needed. She caught Toby's eye and gave him a small smile.

"I'll be in the office at the end of the corridor," she said with a nod, and Toby turned back to his mother. There were plenty of things he wanted to ask the Healer, but they could wait until later – everything could wait until later – he wasn't going anywhere, not while the mother who'd been lost to him for years was gazing up at him and really seeinghim, for the first time in his life.

"Toby," she murmured again, brown eyes brimming with tears. "My Toby."

Toby swallowed hard, blinking back tears of his own, while his father gripped the end of the bed and stared in shocked disbelief at his wife.

"Hello Mum."

x – X – x

Things are never perfect, of course.

When Toby got home that night there was a Howler from his boss demanding to know why he hadn't turned up to work and Adrian, his flatmate, was cooking up something dubious in the kitchen.

Adrian stuck his head into the hall as the dying strains of the Howler faded and grinned.

"Where you been?"

"Saint Mungos," answered Toby faintly, tossing his cloak over a chair.

"Oh," frowned Adrian, giving him a searching look. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," said Toby, waving a careless hand. "Wasn't for me."

"Your mum?" asked Adrian, looking sympathetic. He and Adrian had become friends in their fourth year at Hogwarts, and he'd found out about his mother a few years later.

"She's fine," said Toby, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table, still trying to make sense of it all.

"So why'd you go?" questioned Adrian, stirring what Toby guessed was meant to be curry in the pot on the stove.

"Because she's fine," said Toby, and Adrian glanced around at him, a puzzled look on his face. "She's fine. She's better. She knows who I am."

"What?" Adrian's tone was shocked, and he stared at his friend with wide brown eyes, hand frozen in the act of lifting the wooden spoon to taste the curry. "She's-?"

"Conscious," nodded Toby. "Bit hazy, and the Healers say it'll be weeks before she's properly rehabilitated, maybe months before she can be left on her own, but-" He trailed off, shrugging. "She's...there. Not just a shell."

"Are youok?" asked Adrian, turning the heat down and taking the seat opposite him. Toby grinned faintly at him; Adrian might play the fool a lot, but he was surprisingly perceptive sometimes.

"I'm...not sure."

"Still in shock?"

"I just don't think I understand," said Toby slowly. "Or maybe I do, but that would just be-"

"Just be what?"

"Completely ridiculous," said Toby softly. "I mean, she knew who I was but she didn't know Dad had aged... But then of course, she's never seen Dad..."

"Er, she did marry him, Toby," said Adrian, treating him to a peculiar look and laughing nervously.

"What?" asked Toby, snapping out of his musings. "Oh. Yes. She did."

"Want some curry?" asked Adrian, gesturing towards the pungent smell on the stove and Toby shrugged.

"Sure, why not? The Healers could probably get me a bed next to Mum."

Adrian grinned, letting the slight on his culinary skills slide and pushing himself out of his seat to get two plates out of the cupboard, as Toby slipped off into thoughts occupied by sapphire blue eyes and a wicked smile.

' You won't come after me.'

'Why not? I said we were even; I don't owe you anything.'

'You do owe me. You value your sanity more than my life, so the odds are still tipped in my favour. I saved your life – you just let me live. They're not the same thing.'

'And how do you suppose we remedy this imbalance? According to you, I am still in your debt...'

She wouldn't have.

Would she?

x – X – x

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