AN: Really short update, but I will be adding more tonight. Hopefully a longer chapter with longs of meat and grit. So sorry this is late, I've been swamped with life. I promise you, PROMISE YOU, I will update more regularly. The next chapter will take a while, probably a week, because it is seriously going to be super duper long. You will see why after you finish this chapter. There will be, however, updates on my other stories in the mean time, so please keep an eye out and give those babies some love.

xx,

Your shitty author

P.S. Also, sorry for the wonky updates. The site wouldn't let me edit chapter titles, then the order got all messed up etc etc

Chapter 6

Draco walked with lengthy strides across the crisp green grass, sparing a glance towards the lake as he went. The grounds are still the same, he thought. It had been years since he had last been here. Seven, to be exact. He knew, of course, that he could have Owled Longbottom to meet at the Three Broomsticks, but Hogwarts seemed to be the more appropriate setting. Strolling up the stairs and right up to the doors, Draco pushed them open and entered. He sighed heavily. It was breakfast time.

Since he didn't know the protocol for visitors, he assumed there were none, and headed into the Great Hall, apprehensive about being recognized. Walking between the Slytherin table and the wall, he hastily made his way to where the professors sat. Ignoring the stares and whispers (he supposed they did recognize him, after all), he approached Longbottom, who had singled him out the moment he entered.

"Neville," he muttered, extending his hand nervously. He nodded to his old professors, most of whom ignored him.

"Malfoy!" Neville clasped Draco's hand exuberantly and excused himself from the table, chattering away about how lucky Draco was to have caught him on a Saturday.

Draco only nodded, antsy to get the interview done and over with. Neville, sensing Draco's anxiety, only chuckled and led him to his living quarters, which were not all that far from the Great Hall.

Once the door shut behind them and the parlor was properly illuminated, Neville turned to face Draco. "Astoria said you were seeing Luna first. Did that interview help with Hermione's situation?"

Draco started. "You know Astoria?"

Neville only shook his head and chuckled. "Everyone knows Astoria."

Draco, doubting that statement, looked over the man in front of him. Neville Longbottom. Neville, who had killed Voldemort. Neville, who had been the first to extend a hand in friendship to the remaining Malfoys. Neville.

The man in front of him was still boyish in demeanor. However he was taller and showed lines of slight aging. His mousy brown hair was peppered with strands of gray, and when he smiled, his eyes crinkled. Down one side of his face was a nasty scar he had received from Yaxley's deadly wand. Draco, momentarily forgetting about Hermione, wondered if he looked as aged as Longbottom did.

"Draco," Neville said, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You alright, mate? You don't look too good."

Draco cleared his throat and said, "I'm fine. Luna is actually coming into Mungo's today, so I thought I'd just do your interview first. Kill some time, you know."

Neville nodded. "Well I don't know what to tell you. I don't know how Hermione could have succumbed to this condition."

Draco nodded and sat down on a chair offered to him by Neville. "I have only one working theory so far, but I need some information from you before I can accurately make heads or tails of it."

Neville, stopping in the midst of preparing tea and pumpkin juice, looked over at Draco and urged him to continue.

"This may be an uncomfortable topic of conversation, but when you were held at my family's estate, Neville-"

"Which time," Neville interrupted, reminding Draco that he had been imprisoned at Malfoy Manor more times than he cared to admit.

"It was four months before the end of the war."

"Right, then. Continue."

"I know you were imprisoned with Hermione, and Ron-"

"And Luna," Neville said, glancing at Draco out of the corner of his eye as he brought a tray of drinks to the table.

"Luna? But why did no one mention this to me earlier," Draco said, clearing Neville's messy table to make room for the tray.

"Well, no one really knew what was going on at this time. There were several rescue missions being planned and going on at the time, I would imagine. People probably lost track of where exactly everyone was interned. But I do know I was there with 'Mione, Ron, and Luna. The only ones from our group who were not captured with us were Ginny and Harry," Neville said, pouring some pumpkin juice into a glass for himself.

"You lot didn't keep logs?"

Neville laughed. "That was Hermione's job. She thought it was useful to keep track of who went missing and when. No one had the time or energy to take over after she was taken." He sipped his drink.

Draco was quiet as he wrote down some of the information Neville had just told him. After a while, he spoke. "I take it you don't know or remember much of what happened?"

Neville shook his head. "I do, actually."

"Oh?" Draco then remembered that Neville told him he'd survived the war by doing exercises to strengthen his memory of spells and strategies. To date, Neville probably had the best memory of anyone Draco knew, including himself.

"Yes, but I doubt telling you would be much help."

"Why," Draco said, not liking where this conversation was heading.

"Because, Draco, you know as well as I do that I will leave out details I may find to be unimportant, but may actually be critical. Use my-"

"I am not using your damn pensieve," Draco growled, peaked at the thought of reliving the war through the eyes of an Order member.

"Draco…"

"There is no other way? Perhaps Legilimency."

"Yes, perhaps, if you would like to sit here for hours, only to come back and peruse my memories during class time."

Draco muttered a curse and accepted Neville's offer. "Fine. Bottle it up, and I'll take it to my study. I'll return it when I'm done."

He watched Neville put the business end of his wand to his temple and withdraw it slowly until a long strand of silver memory came away from his head. Then, Neville pulled a small glass vial from his robes and pushed his wand into the opening of the vial. He swirled it around until the entire memory was stuffed into the vial, then stoppered it and gave it to Draco.

"Be gentle with it, mate," he said with a twinkle in his eye, then sent the hesitant blond on his way.

AN: As you can probably see, the next chapter will be super long because it will be Neville's take on the time he was captured with Hermione and the others and held at the Manor. It's a lot to get through, but keep in mind it is only HIS take, and the other perspectives remain to be seen. Like I said, this story jumps back and forth a lot, and if at any time it gets too confusing, please, PLEASE, let me know. I just have a strange, almost incoherent writing style.

I'm working on it.

Much love,

Nova