Part VI

[Time Frame]: Hogsmead.

"Blimey, mate, you sure look hungry. Why not stop at the Boar's Head?" "Madam Rosmerta wishes for any weary traveler to stop at her pub. Care to come in?" "You look terrible, son. Buy a ruddy Snuggie before you croak from all this rain, yeah?"

Neville had up to this point ignored each and every offer that came to him as he walked downtown in Hogsmead, but that last comment was impossible to brush off. A Snuggie? Neville could hear Ron in his head, yelling, "Bloody Hell, mate, I didn't know they had gay dementors!"

He shot the peddler a look and kept walking. If he burst out laughing, it would not end well for him. It was true, though; he did look absolutely awful. It was pouring rain, he was tired, hungry, and irritable. What more could go wrong? Luna could be dead, he thought to himself, and pushed all complaints from his mind. She was his number one priority right now. He could feast, rest, and make fun of the Snuggie peddler as soon as she was safely away from Bellatrix Lestrange.

The Shrieking Shack loomed above him by now. It looked just as he remembered from 3 ½ years ago when he'd followed Harry, who had gone after Sirius Black. He could have caught that Peter Pettigrew, had Harry not gone after Professor Lupin…

He pulled out his wand, pissed now. Harry Potter always got to save people, and always succeeded. Why, he was probably on the way right now to save Luna Lovegood, and Neville would be lost in the crowd once again. NO! Not again, not now not ever. He was going in.

Guilt flooded through him. Luna wasn't a prize to be one. She was his friend, and she was in trouble. That was all that mattered, not him and his loser problems. He tried the rotting door. It was locked.

"Alohomora!" he shouted. The lock clicked open and flew into the bushes, while the door swung open, revealing a dismal interior. Neville smirked and trotted inside, slamming the door behind him. "Hey, Bella, I'm home! Come and get me!" he screamed, feeling cocky and cool…he stopped smiling and looked at a cracked mirror hanging on the wall. He was Neville Longbottom, not Draco Malfoy. He gingerly opened and closed doors, quietly announced his arrival, carefully walked with soft steps. This new Neville wasn't him at all.

He rolled down the dirty shirt sleeves and fixed the cuffs. There. That was how he wore his clothes. He smoothed down his fluffy hair, because he wore it smart, not like he'd just been playing Quidditch. Just as he was finished primping, the mirror shattered. Glass flew everywhere, and one piece cut him on the cheek. Holding his face and wielding his wand, Neville turned around and looked. Nothing there.

He pulled his hand away and wiped the blood on his pants. That had to be Bellatrix who broke the mirror. But where was she? "Show yourself!" he said clearly, loudly, his voice quavering. Just to his left, something broke. He turned abruptly and faced the direction, now holding the wand with both hands.

Something above him creaked. He was afraid to look, but- dear God, the chandelier! Neville dodged just as the dusty crystals hit the ground with a crash. A cackle sounded. Yep, it was Bellatrix.

"Hiya, Longbottom. How's the family?" Neville looked up at the sound of her wretched voice. She stood grinning on the balcony, leaning over the banister. Neville aimed and shot red sparks, hoping to burn her, but she stepped to the side at the last second and laughed again. "How 'bout the girl?" She stared at him and flicked her wand, which hung at her side. Neville was about to hit her again when something started moving at the Death Eater's feet, rising off the ground that at first he thought it was her skirts.

The object rose higher into the air and hovered right where the chandelier had been, some 30 feet above the floor. "Luna," Neville whispered. Bellatrix smiled and flicked her wand again. Luna, hair flying, fell at lightning speed to the ground.

Just before she hit bottom, Neville skid across the concrete and caught her in his arms. The force of her body knocked the wind out of him for a minute, but he regained control and gently lay her down on the floor. "Luna," he whispered again, this time as tears began to smart in his eyes. She wasn't breathing. Her nose was broken , and dried blood surrounded her nostrils. One of her eyes was completely purple. Her throat had hand marks, making huge bruises.

Neville raised his head, his lip quivering. "Why?" was all he could say to that…that murderer. She hopped down from the platform and landed next to him with skill. "I'm here to put you in your place," Bellatrix whispered, licking her lips and grinning evilly. "Where's that, Bellatrix?" Neville asked, standing up to face her equally. "With your mum and dad in St. Mungo's," she said matter-of-factly, walking over to a perfectly intact vase and dropping it onto the floor, smiling when she heard it break.

The tears were flowing freely now. "Oh yeah? Well, you know where you're place is?" Neville shot back, fingering the glorious stick at his side. "Where's that, Longbottom?" Bellatrix looked extremely amused and apparently decided that the teenager in front of her was no threat, for she sat down on a cobweb covered cushion.

Neville swallowed hard and mumbled, "Hell," as he aimed his wand at her and yelled. She tumbled off the chair in fright, and her wand went sailing towards Neville. He grabbed it and gladly snapped it in half, then tossed it into a blazing fire that had been brewing in the fireplace all this time unnoticed. Bellatrix Lestrange's face contorted into a horrible state and she screamed as loud as she could. Neville shut her up with a handy charm from Professor Flitwick and even smiled as she opened her mouth and tried to yell, and despaired upon realizing that she was muted.

She pulled herself off the ground and ran for Neville, but he had the wand, and happily petrified her with Hermione's old spell, "Petrificus Totalus!" Bellatrix seemed very surprised that such a baby spell could work on her, but it did, and she lay flat on the floor, still as a rock. Neville rushed over to Luna.

The girl still hadn't moved, and her eyes were shut tight. Neville felt the tears engulfing him again, but tried to push them away. He had to see if she was really dead first. He tried the Muggle ways, CPR, mouth to mouth (which he did gladly), recessitation, but none of it worked.

He was close to giving up when he noticed that she was still warm, not cold as the dead usually are. She was under some sort of spell! But which one? Without even looking at his captive he flicked his wand. She could now speak. "What did you put on her?" he asked. Bellatrix protested with a number of curses before Neville rolled his eyes and made her violently shake. "I said, what did you put on her?" he asked impatiently. "Gave…her…sleeping draught," gasped the Death Eater. "Thank you," Neville said, and shut her up again. Now he had to think, and he must do it in silence.

What was the antidote for sleeping draught? He smiled as he realized the simplicity of the situation. Professor Slughorn had given them a brilliant lesson, during which he revealed that the only way to awaken someone under the sleeping draught potion was to give them a Mentos, and Neville always kept them because they were his favorite candy.

He joyously pulled out the package from his pocket and in great anticipation opened the wrapper to- nothing. It was empty! "No. No, no, no!" he cried, tossing the paper to the ground and throwing himself on top of Luna's body. It was hopeless. She would suffocate soon, and then she would really be dead, and it would indeed be all his fault.

Just then he had another thought. He sniffled and pulled himself into sitting position, and groped for the wrapper. There was the Mentos sugar dust left over, as he suspected. Now, Slughorn strongly cautioned against this tactic, but said it would work, but he didn't want anyone practicing it in his classroom.

Neville smeared the candied dust all over his lips and looked down at Luna. He'd never, ever done this before. What if he did it wrong? What if he didn't have enough dust? What if…

"Stop living your life with 'what ifs'," Ginny had told him. Her voice rang in his ears now. He blinked his eyes and breathed in deep through his nose, bent down, and kissed Luna full on the lips. His tears fell down his cheeks. Please work, he silently begged.

He felt movement underneath him, but didn't dare pull back, lest it only be a rat or something. But then he decided to open his eyes, for if it was a rat he could brush it away from Luna if he reached far enough. His eyes opened, and he beheld the most beautiful sight- silver eyes.

He pulled back. "Uh…hi, Luna," he stuttered, quickly pulling himself up from the embarrassing situation. She smiled. "Hello, Neville. I see you like Mentos too, hmm?" She giggled, and Neville chuckled nervously in turn. Luna sat up. "Interesting antidote, Neville. I just hope the Wrackspurt didn't find his way to the wrapper before you stuck it in your mouth."

Neville held out his hand, which she took, and they left the Shrieking Shack, leaving the one who caused them all such grief on the floor to…well, freak out. For a few more minutes. The Ministry sent officials to pick her up as soon as Luna and Neville were accounted for.

Sorry if the ending is sappy, I had an urge here. More to be posted soon. R & R if you wish.