Warnings for this chapter: Reference to past torture.
21. MIND OVER MEMORY
It was strange for her to admit, but actually her summer was turning out to be one of the best ones she had had so far. It didn't come close to the carefree weeks she had spent at the Weasleys' or the unchaperoned freedom she had experienced when she had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron, of course, but it was almost on par with last year's summer holidays at Grimmauld Place. She had more or less free reign over an entire castle, complete with secret passageways and hidden chambers, the food was excellent and plentiful and the company – well, the company wasn't bad, all things considered. Now that Bellatrix had left, all the Death Eaters treated her politely and with respect and she had even grown friendly with some of them, spending time with Professor Snape in his potions lab, training with Rudolphus and Rabastan or tending the gardens with David.
And Tom, for all his plotting and scheming and important meetings with important people, always made time for her, asking about her day or asking for her opinion and really seeming to take everything she said into consideration, even when he sometimes, not so subtly, laughed at her naivety and idealism. But he wasn't mean about it and in fact treated her with exquisite kindness, both in their discussions and arguments and in everything else, bringing her flowers and chocolates, opening doors and pulling out chairs, and at least attempting to respect her personal space.
There were some less positive aspects of course – the twinges from her scar, the resurgence of unwelcome memories, Sundays – but all in all, she had more freedom and fun than she could have possibly dared to hope. She was allowed to write and even talk to her friends, Narcissa had taken her and Hermione on several more shopping trips and Draco had even invited her to Malfoy Manor for another afternoon of Quidditch, all with Tom's blessing.
It was another Wednesday and she had just finished her lesson with Tom, who had gone into some detail to explain and demonstrate a good number of Dark spells that had very practical and beneficial applications and were only classified as "Dark" because they required some rather complicated casting techniques that were apparently not reconcilable with Light magic. Holly had struggled to follow the logic behind all of it and Tom had admitted that these categorisations were sometimes rather arbitrary, which was, of course, why he wanted to lift the restrictions on Dark magic. Then he had offered Sex Magic as another example and Holly had started blushing so badly that Tom had taken pity on her and finished the lesson, smirking all the while.
She wasn't sure she believed him fully and thought that she could ask Remus for his opinion on the matter, but for the moment, she had enough of that and just wanted to spend some time in the gardens. The herb garden was coming along nicely and David had offered to add a greenhouse for her, which sounded great though she wasn't quite sure what to grow in there yet. Which was why she decided to give Neville a call, hoping the shy Gryffindor might have some ideas and practical tips for her.
She threw a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace in what she had slowly come to think of as her study, kneeling down on a small rectangular pillow for extra comfort, and called out Neville's Floo address before popping her head down into the greenish flames.
She blinked her eyes open again to the familiar sight of the Longbottoms' living room, Augusta Longbottom's taste and touch clearly visible in the claw-footed furniture, floral upholstery and the odd hunting trophies on the wall that always freaked her out a little bit. She only had to wait a few moments until the door was pushed open by Neville's great-uncle Algie, an elderly wizard with square features and thinning grey hair.
"Ah, Holly Potter!" he greeted her, groaning loudly as he sank into the armchair in front of the fireplace. "How do you do?"
"I'm doing well, thank you, Mr. Longbottom. How are you today?"
"Ah, not great actually." He sighed sorrowfully. "I'm guessing you're here to speak with Neville? He's at St. Mungo's with Augusta. Alice has been doing better lately – Neville might have told you – regaining some awareness of her surroundings, actually recognising Augusta once or twice, but Frank has taken a turn for the worse. His vitals have been slipping and yesterday they moved him to a different room so as not to upset the other patients… The healers seem to think that he won't be with us for much longer…"
"I'm so sorry to hear that," Holly whispered. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"It's kind of you to ask, but…" Mr. Longbottom sighed again, shook his head. "The healers think that Frank is still trying to safe Alice, that he has been directing all his energy, all his magic towards her, to help her, leaving none for himself. I don't think there's anything that can be done, short of rewriting history."
"How is Neville?" Holly asked, feeling her eyes starting to burn, but forbidding herself to cry.
"He's having a hard time accepting… We always knew that their condition was terminal, but I think Neville never really stopped hoping for a miracle." Mr. Longbottom shook his head as if to express both his bemusement and regret. "He's refusing to leave his dad's side. But I'll tell him that you called."
"Thank you," Holly murmured, offering a rather absent-minded goodbye before she pulled her head out of the flames.
The sense of vertigo was not all physical. She couldn't really grasp her thoughts, let alone move them into an order that made sense. Her heart was hammering in her chest, too quick, too painful, and she was feeling too many emotions to sort through them. But she had to. There was still a chance – a small, risky chance, but a chance nonetheless.
She had thought about it before, more than once, ever since she had met Neville's parents in the Janus Thickey Ward. But the risks had always seemed too high and the chances of success too minimal. But now… She got to her feet, a little too hastily as her vision swam black for a few seconds, steadied herself impatiently and then hastened to the door, through the dark, winding, long corridors of Slytherin Castle.
She finally stopped in front of Rabastan's door, sucked in a fortifying breath while simultaneously rapping her knuckles against the wood in an urgent staccato until Rabastan finally opened the door, Rudolphus only half a step behind.
"Holly, how nice- " Holly didn't let him finish.
"Did you mean it when you said that you regretted what you did to the Longbottoms?" she demanded without preamble.
"Of course," they both said, without hesitation.
"Then I need your help to try and fix it," she said.
"Fix it? Holly, that... I don't think that's possible," Rabastan said carefully, trailing off when she shook her head unwillingly.
"I'll explain later. Do you have a Pensieve?"
"I have one in my room," Rudolphus answered a little reluctantly.
"Good, then I need you to get that. And Rabastan, I need you to get Professor Snape and then meet me at the Apparition point." She waited for their nods and then swivelled around to start hastening through the corridors again, this time towards Tom's study.
She knew she had to tell him, but she was still more than a little relieved when she found his study empty safe for Nagini, who was snoozing in front of the fireplace.
§Nagini,§ she whisper-hissed, crouching down next to the snake. §I'm sorry, could you wake up for a moment, please?§
Nagini blinked one of her slitted eyes open, her forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. §Resting,§ she hissed reproachfully.
§I know, I know, I'm sorry. I'll let you get back to that in a moment,§ Holly promised. §Could you tell Tom that I had to help a friend, please? I'll be back as soon as possible.§
§Master won't like this,§ Nagini replied, blinking open her other eye as well. §Master won't be happy.§
§I know, but I have to go,§ Holly said, already getting to her feet again. §If he's angry… I have to go. Please just tell him that I'll be back and then he can shout at me all he wants.§
§I will tell him, little snake-speaker,§ Nagini agreed, winding her powerful body once around itself so that she came to rest with her head towards the door.
§Thank you,§ Holly threw over her shoulder, already halfway to the door and with her thoughts on the task ahead.
She wasn't surprised when she reached the Apparition point in the grand entrance hall to find the three wizards she had asked for help in the midst of an argument.
"She didn't say that either, Severus," Rabastan was saying, in a tone of barely contained annoyance before he spotted her. "You had best ask her yourself."
"No, we don't have time for this," Holly interrupted before the Potions Master could even open his mouth. "Please, we need to go."
"Go where?" Snape still demanded, casting her one of his dark-eyed looks of disapproval. "This might surprise you, Holly, but outside of Gryffindor Tower you will find very few people interested in joining you on your hare-brained adventures."
"It's not an adventure, Professor," Holly murmured, hating how he could always make her feel like a scared little Firstie again when he used that tone of voice.
"No, of course not, you want to save people, want to save the Longbottoms." He sneered. "Just as arrogant as your father to believe that common sense and reality can simply be bent into shape by applying enough bullheadedness and sheer stupidity."
"Severus," Rudolphus murmured warningly.
Holly took a deep breath, held it and then released it slowly together with her anger. "I'm asking for your help because you're the one person I trust the most in this entire castle," she then said softly. "But I understand if you don't want to be part of this."
"I never said that," Snape protested. "I would just like to know what 'this' is."
"Why, Professor, it's a hare-brained Gryffindor scheme of course," Holly gave back with a bit more bite than usual before focusing back on business. "I'll explain soon, but right now I need you all to Apparate to Magnolia Crescent, number 11, Little Whinging, Surrey. And could you please try to appear outside of the house? Rabastan, can I side-along with you?"
The two Lestranges nodded and Snape muttered something that she choose to construe as agreement before she moved into Rabastan's opened arms, resting her cheek against his muscular chest and wrapping her arms around his waist before she closed her eyes and braced herself for the disagreeable sensation of Apparition.
Rabastan's strong arm around her waist kept her stabilised as she breathed deeply against the nausea, concentrating on her core as Tom had advised. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a familiar Muggle neighbourhood with impeccable lawns, uniform hedges and obligatory white picket fences. She suppressed her instinctive distaste, the unpleasant memories that wanted to push forward, and instead freed herself from Rabastan's embrace and walked towards the front door of number 11, as always a little cheered to find the door painted a bright, sunny yellow.
She rang the doorbell, the three wizards shadowing her step and indubitably looking very out of place in this outwardly perfect residential area. She could feel their apprehension and unease, especially when the door was jerked open by a tall, raw-boned man. "What?" he demanded with gruff belligerence before his gaze landed on Holly and a surprisingly welcoming smile spread over his features. "Holly! Did you need something from me?"
"No, sir," Holly replied brightly. "I'm here to see your wife and your son."
"Glad to hear it. Come in, come in," he said, opening the door wider and motioning them all inside. "Sarah is at the hairdressers, though thank God she told me – I probably wouldn't have noticed otherwise. And Simon is tutoring that football player, but they should both be back soon. You're lucky it's the half-time break, I wouldn't have answered otherwise. Anyway, make yourself at home. There's lasagne in the fridge if you're hungry and you know where the panic room is."
With that he carried on to the living room from where the sounds of the television filtered through the house, leaving Holly and her three companions to find their way to the kitchen by themselves.
"Panic room?" Rudolphus asked as soon as they were alone. "Holly, what is going on? Who was that?"
"I would like to know that as well," Snape agreed, calling her name sharply when she didn't answer immediately.
"That's Chris Turner. Simon's dad? You might have met him at the wedding," Holly said, choosing to focus on the simplest answer for now. "And it's not really a panic room. It just has a lot of isolation."
"Holly, that answered absolutely nothing," Rabastan pointed out, not meanly but with very audible exasperation.
"I know. It's just… it's not my secret to tell," Holly whispered, pleading for understanding and hoping that Sarah and Simon would hurry home.
"They're empaths," Snape answered for her and Holly remembered that he had been there, though briefly, when Simon had visited her for her birthday; she nodded minutely. "That still does not answer the more pertinent question of what exactly we're doing here."
"Neville's dad is dying," Holly replied, swallowing against her anxiety.
Snape sent her one of his most unimpressed looks, arching one eyebrow. "And you think that after years of extensive care, countless experts and specialists consulting on their case, that you now have the solution? That is shockingly sophomoric even for you."
"Neville told me about that, about the treatments to heal their physical wounds and the curse damage, about the mind healers who tried to help them past their trauma," Holly said softly. "But you were the one who told me that you cannot separate memories from feelings, sir, and right now it's those feelings – the guilt and desperation Frank Longbottom is still experiencing – that are killing him."
"And you think your friend and his mother can help with that?" Rudolphus asked, a curious mixture of scepticism and hopefulness in his voice.
"I hope so. I discussed it with them before," Holly said evasively, not mentioning what exactly they had talked about or the many concerns and warnings Sarah had had for her. "Here they come now."
She breathed out in relief, having spied the familiar lanky form of her best friend on his bike and the steadily approaching motherly figure coming from the other direction through the kitchen window.
"Holly," Simon greeted her happily as soon as he came through the door, pulling her into his arms. "Why are you so worried? Mum, Holly's here!"
"Holly, dear," Sarah Turner said in her gentle voice, a ready smile playing on her lips and her blue eyes astute in her rounded face. "How nice to see you again. And who have you brought with you?"
She made the introductions, feeling both empaths directing waves of calming energy at her as she explained why she had come.
"I understand that you feel strongly about this, but you know I have my reservations," Sarah told her, gently rubbing her back. "The risks are considerable – and not just to the Longbottoms."
"I know, but… I know it'll work. I just know and I can't let Neville lose his dad and maybe his mum as well and not at least try. Please…"
Sarah sighed, looking troubled, but finally nodded. Holly smiled and then turned to the Lestranges. "I need one of you to put your memory of the day you tortured the Longbottoms into the Pensieve please."
"I think before they do that you should first explain what exactly your plan is," Snape stopped Rudolphus, who had pulled the Pensieve from his robes. "And the risks that are involved. I understand you and your son are empaths, madam?"
Sarah nodded with a kind smile. "I also work as a psychologist- "
"That's like a Muggle mind healer," Holly interjected for the two Lestranges, who looked a bit confused.
"- so we're hoping to adapt some of the techniques I have developed over the years to help Mr. Longbottom to process his trauma."
"Could you elaborate on that?" Rabastan asked, both brothers jumping to their feet as Sarah started pouring them all some tea and helping her to move the full cups and a plate of biscuits to the table.
"As an empath I'm able to very closely monitor my patients' emotional wellbeing. I can react to any spikes in anxiety or increased stress levels and soothe negative emotions by dampening their intensity. I can also project emotions – calm, peacefulness, acceptance."
"A wall of gratitude," Snape offered, throwing Holly a look she didn't particularly like.
"Sure, in theory, though that's not been applicable in any of my cases before," Sarah said, sipping her tea. "In any case, what Holly is suggesting now builds on that. Normally, any treatment would of course start by building a patient profile and defining the needs and aims of the therapy, ideally by talking with the patient, but I understand that is not an option here."
"That's why we need your memories," Holly offered, addressing the two brothers. "If we know what happened, at least from your point of view, we can use that as our frame of reference and just fill in the gasps with more constructive emotions than guilt."
"I always get very sceptical when you present me with one of your overly simplistic solutions to a very complex problem, Holly," Snape remarked acerbically. "May I enquire, once again, about the risks involved?"
"I am worried about the emotional backlash," Sarah replied before Holly could find a more diplomatic answer. "Every emotional contact on that level leaves an impact and Holly is not trained to protect herself by maintaining a professional distance. And while these memories will be very instrumental, seeing two people whom she has begun to trust commit what I understand was a heinous crime could shatter any sense of security Holly has started to build."
"But why would Holly go into our memories?" Rudolphus demanded. "Her role in this should be very minimal from this point forward, I believe."
Holly and the two Muggles exchanged looks, but it was Snape who answered. "Because she is an empath, too."
"I never said that!" Holly protested, almost knocking over her cup of tea in her shock.
"And yet you're not denying it now," the Potions Master gave back archly. "And it's the only logical explanation for why Dr. Turner would even consider involving you in this. Not that the Dark Lord will agree to it, of course."
"I don't need his permission!" Holly snapped. "I'm allowed to help my friends. That's in the contract! And besides, I'm sure Tom does a lot of things that I wouldn't approve of, either."
"Wait, but you did tell him where we were going, right?" Rabastan demanded and she could read the unease on all of their faces.
"He wasn't there so I left a message with Nagini," she murmured. "Can we please move on from this? Mr. Longbottom still needs help. Please, I promise you'll be all right. I'll explain everything to Tom."
"Holly, we're not worried about that," Rudolphus said, sighing. "But this is quite a revelation and… are you sure that you want to do this? We couldn't bear it if you got hurt now, trying to fix our mistakes."
"I know you're worried, all of you, and I appreciate that, but sitting here and doing nothing while Neville loses his parents will feel much worse than anything that might happen," Holly pleaded, looking at them beseechingly until Rudolphus sighed again and finally put the Pensieve on the table, gently placing his wand against his temple.
"There's probably no chance of talking you out of this, anyway," Rabastan commented with a wry smile and gently patted her arm when she got up to hug him around the neck.
"None at all," she told him before she turned to the Potions Master.
"We'll be discussing this, all of this, in detail," Snape told her in his best teacher's voice and she nodded obediently. "And you'll be following our instructions, especially Dr. Turner's, to the letter. If she deems the risks of continuing unjustifiable or if, at any point, I see you neglecting your own safety, we will terminate this experiment and you will come home with us without complaint."
Holly beamed at him, suspecting that they both knew how very unrealistic those terms were, but choosing not to argue. She moved around the table to give him a hug as well, grinning to herself at his immediately raised protest. "You know I can feel that you don't mind my hugs nearly as much as you want everyone to believe," she whispered to him before letting her arms slip from around him and instead sitting back down in her chair next to Simon, who had been sending positive and calming emotions in her direction. She hoped he could feel how grateful she was for his steady, unquestioning support.
"All right, all my memories of that night are in the Pensieve," Rudolphus declared a few moments later, looking troubled as he carefully slid the bowl with the swirling, silvery mist in their direction. "Holly…"
"I will be," she promised gently, not needing him to finish. "Thank you."
"I think it will be best if we take this to the panic room," Sarah proposed and Holly immediately reached for the Pensieve and got to her feet as Sarah addressed the three wizards, stopping them for following her. "And I would ask you to remain here. Your presence would only create an additional interference that we can ill afford."
The three Death Eaters exchanged long looks, but then retook their seats. Holly gave them each one last smile, hoping to convey her gratitude, but also her determination to see this through and bring it to a positive end. From the persistent frowns on their faces she wasn't sure she succeeded, but she'd have enough time to worry about them and about Tom and about everything else later.
§*§*§*§*§
"It's been half an hour," Rabastan said, interrupting his agitated pacing long enough to peer through the open kitchen door and down the empty hallway. "And should it be this quiet?"
"Would you rather there was screaming?" Severus demanded angrily, tapping out the seconds with his long fingers on the wooden table top.
"Raba, please sit down," Rudolphus asked. "We can't do anything right now."
And that was an absolutely wretched feeling. When Holly had asked them to help, dangling the vague chance of redemption in front of them like a glittery gold watch just out of reach of a Niffler's greedy grasp, he hadn't hesitated. But her actual plan, as it now turned out, involved a lot less help from them and a lot more risk for her.
He knew what she would see in that memory, knew that it would be much worse than anything she might have been told, anything she might have expected or even feared. She would see them at their worst, see why they absolutely deserved a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.
"Did you know she was an empath?" Rabastan asked of Severus, momentarily drawing the older brother out of his dark thoughts.
"I suspected," Severus replied. "I met Simon Turner when he visited her on her birthday and there were some occurrences during our Occlumency lessons that made me wonder if perhaps they had more in common than growing up in the same neighbourhood."
"She's very intuitive. She knew when Bellatrix had taken her bad mood out on me again," Rudolphus offered.
Severus snorted. "That was painfully obvious to everyone even without empathy, Rudolphus."
"She was just the only one who didn't take 'no' for an answer," Rabastan agreed, resting his hand on his brother's shoulder. "She has a habit of that."
Rudolphus leaned into the touch for a few moments before abruptly pushing back his chair and starting to pace. "We shouldn't have allowed her to do this."
"And do you really think she was looking for our permission when she quite clearly stated that she did not require it from the Dark Lord?" Severus demanded again and as much as Rudolphus normally enjoyed his company, in that moment he hated him a little for his flaunted indifference and cold rationality.
They descended into another bout of tense silence until finally the door to the panic room slipped open a crack and Simon came back out, the Pensieve carefully held in his hands. "They're fine," he told them before they could ask. "Holly's a bit shaky and she's still processing what she saw, but she wants to continue. She asks if you could please put the other memory in here."
"Can we see her?" Rudolphus demanded, but the empath shook his head. "Why didn't she come herself?"
"Only my mum and Holly went into the memory and as I said she's still shaky. I know you want to help, that you're worried about her, but your emotions would only stress her further," he said apologetically.
"So is there nothing we can do?" Rabastan asked, accepting the now empty Pensieve from Rudolphus, but hesitating before filling it with his own memories.
"You're already doing it, sir," Simon replied with an open smile. "Holly has been thinking about this for a long time, but only your friendship and support gave her the confidence to try it. And no, no-one could have talked her out of this."
He smiled at them again and when Rabastan had deposited his memories into the Pensieve he took it up and disappeared towards the panic room again. Leaving them alone with their thoughts and each other's uncomfortable company.
§*§*§*§*§
It was almost another hour until the door opened again, but this time the two female empaths followed Simon out of the room. They both looked a little paler than before, Holly especially, but she didn't hesitate, immediately moving towards the two Lestranges and wrapping them in a hug.
"Holly…" they started, but she shushed them, all the emotions from the two memories still storming through her, dark and vicious and oh-so-cruel. She had known the bare skeleton of what had happened, the who, where, when, what. She hadn't understood the why, not really, not fully. It still felt hard to grasp, how far they had all been willing to go to find their Dark Lord. Not just Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr., but Rudolphus and Rabastan as well.
They were her friends and she wanted to assign some noble motive to their actions, wanted to put the blame squarely on Bellatrix. But if she did that, if she started twisting the facts, she would destroy any chance of helping the Longbottoms. They had gone along for large parts of it, out of habit maybe, out of fear certainly. To protect each other, to escape Bellatrix' wrath. And they had been so young then. Rabastan had barely been nineteen, Rudolphus not much older.
"What you did was horrible," she admitted, feeling their arms around her tense. "But we're going to fix it."
"You're trembling," Rabastan pointed out, their large hands caressing lightly over her back.
And she was, no doubt, but that didn't matter. Simon and Sarah had helped her through the worst of it and now she needed to put all of it to good use, to actually help Frank Longbottom and maybe his wife as well.
"We have to go to St. Mungo's. Can you Apparate us there?" she asked instead of an answer, freeing herself from the safety of their embrace.
"They have an Apparition area, yes, but I find it very doubtful that they will just let us stroll in and perform an experimental treatment on one of their patients," Snape remarked, brushing down his robes as he got to his feet. "But I suppose you have a plan for that as well?"
"We're going to find Neville and his grandmother and let them decide if this is something they want to try," Holly replied with a gentle roll of her eyes. "This might surprise you, Professor, but I'm not planning any breaking and entering right now."
"I notice that you put a time limit on that promise," the Potions Master answered sarcastically. "Should I expect another attempt at ransacking my potions stores next school year?"
"I don't think you have any more proof of any such occurrence taking place than the first time you made the accusation, sir," Holly answered before turning back to the two Lestranges. "Can we go now, please? We lost too much time already."
"Are you and your son coming with us Mrs. Turner?" Rudolphus asked and after Sarah had said "yes" they quickly sorted out who would Apparate with whom, Holly with Rudolphus, Simon with Rabastan and Sarah with the Potions Master.
"Perhaps a disguise would also be in order," Snape suggested and the two Lestranges nodded in agreement, changing their hair colour and facial features with a few quick spells to make them less recognizable.
"You still look like brothers," Holly commented with a chuckle.
"Like twins," Simon added in agreement and they grinned at each other.
"And you still look like yourself," Rabastan replied, both brothers rolling their eyes. "Would you like us to do something about that? It might be less conspicuous if you don't look like the Girl-Who-Lived."
"You know I hate that name," Holly muttered, but allowed the three wizards to change her eye and hair colour so that she looked a bit like Simon's little sister. Once they found Neville, she could either ask them to lift the glamours or find some other way to convince him that it was her. That would be the smallest problem, no doubt.
When they appeared in the cordoned off Apparition zone of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries it was late afternoon already, past visiting hours from what Holly understood from the suspicious and disapproving looks they received from the hospital staff. But Rabastan and Rudolphus were imposing enough, both broad-shouldered and well over 6 feet tall, and Snape swept through the hospital the same way he swept through the halls at Hogwarts – daring anyone to volunteer for a tongue-lashing and a week-long detention by blocking his path – so that no one tried to stop them.
Snape also seemed to know where he was going, something for which Holly was secretly grateful because she wasn't sure she would have found the way without at least several detours. But like this, they arrived at the Janus Thickey Ward within only a few minutes and found the private room Frank Longbottom had been moved to only a short while later.
Holly sped up when she saw Neville sitting slumped against the wall, his head buried against his knees, his shoulders shaking. "Neville!"
"Holly? Oh, sorry, I thought… Holly? What are you doing here?" Neville asked, raising his head, but then furrowing his brow when he didn't recognize her with the glamour until she dropped to her knees in front of him.
"I heard about your dad. How is he?" Holly said, reaching out to pat Neville's shoulder when fresh tears started to run over his already wet cheeks.
"H-he's dying, Holly. He suffered a heart attack and now he stopped breathing on his own and the healers said… they said that we need to think about taking him off life support." Neville sobbed and Holly pulled him into a hug, trying to comfort him.
"Where's your grandmother, Neville?" she asked when he finally calmed down a little.
"Inside," Neville replied with a vague gesture towards the door. "I went to visit my mum, but then I just couldn't go back in…"
"Shh, I understand," Holly murmured, patting his back again. "But could we talk to both of you for a moment?"
"We?" Neville asked, looking up and for the first time seeming to notice the rest of their group. "Pro-Professor Snape? What…?"
"They're here to help," Holly explained, getting to her feet and offering her hand to Neville to pull him up as well. "There might be a way we can save your dad, but... Neville, listen to me, there're risks and it might not work."
Neville's emotions had changed so radically, from utter despair to a painful surge of hope, that she felt almost sick to her stomach, especially with all of the emotions from the two memories still rattling through her like unhappy poltergeists.
"What risks? Holly, my dad is dying! If there's something that can bring him back, I want you to do it!"
"Mr. Longbottom, did it occur to you to consider that the risks might not be exclusively to your father?" Snape snapped and Holly sent him an angry glare when Neville visibly shrunk away.
"As I said, maybe we could discuss this with your grandmother?" she offered again and Neville nodded, still a little too eagerly, and pushed away from the wall, hastening towards his father's room.
Augusta Longbottom was sat rigidly at her son's bedside, her gnarly fingers interwoven with his lax ones, still and silent. She was much more composed than her grandson, her face and eyes dry of tears, her mouth pressed into a thin line. But Holly could see the strength it took her. She turned to stare balefully at the door when Neville pushed it open, disapproval clearly written in her expression.
"What is this?" she demanded, releasing her son's hand and using her cane to press to her feet. "Who are you? Neville, who are they? Why have you brought them here?"
"It's Holly, gran, Holly Potter. She says she can help," Neville said, then looked to her for help, clearly unsure on how to continue.
"I'm sorry for barging in here like this, Mrs. Longbottom," Holly said, but then also didn't know how to continue, very grateful when Sarah stepped forward, calmly introduced herself and her son and then started to explain.
She knew that Sarah still had her reservations, that she worried about what this would do to Holly, but she also knew, better than most of the others, how resolved Holly was to this course of action. To try at least, even if it might not work. She used a firm and friendly tone to walk the Longbottoms through their suggestion, readily and thoroughly answering Augusta's questions and offering some cautious reassurance to Neville, who seemed a little overwhelmed.
"You want to push my son back into awareness by reminding him of everything he went through that night?" Augusta asked with open scepticism. "I fail to see the good that would do – even if I believed this fairy-tale about empaths."
"Right now he's drowning in guilt, Mrs. Longbottom," Holly said and Simon and Sarah nodded in agreement. "It's horrible and overpowering and it makes it hard to breathe, even just being in the same room as him. I think it's all he remembers from that night, the guilt he felt for not being able to protect his wife. But there were other emotions, even if most of them aren't positive: The fear he felt when he realised what was happening; the determination to get them through this; the anger at himself when Rudolphus disarmed him; the hatred when Bellatrix started torturing his wife; the pride and relief when he understood that Alice had managed to get Neville to safety. I think we can use that to break through to him."
"And how do you know all that?" Augusta demanded and Holly knew that she wouldn't like her answer.
"Rudolphus and Rabastan let us look at their memories of that night," she said and she could pinpoint the exact moment when Augusta made the connection, snapping her gaze towards the two tall wizards, who had kept themselves in the background as much as possible.
"You! How dare you!" she hissed venomously, raising her cane as if ready to strike before seeming to remember that she was a witch and drawing her wand instead. "Out! Now! Before I hex you into the next century!"
"Please, Mrs. Longbottom, they're only trying to help," Holly pleaded, stepping between them.
"They've helped enough!" Augusta snapped back, advancing menacingly. "Look at him! Look at what you did to my son!"
"We should leave," Rudolphus said, his raised hands an ineffective shield against Augusta's spitting fury.
"Rudolphus pleaded with Bellatrix to stop, more than once," Holly interrupted her forcefully. "And Rabastan came into the room when Alice was still holding Neville in her arms. He could have stopped her, but instead he moved back, giving her the time to push Neville through the Floo. If Bellatrix or Crouch Jr. had got their hands on him…
"I understand that you're angry. You have every right to be. But right now they're here to fix things," she softened her tone when Augusta lowered her wand by a few fractions. "And believe me, they feel just as guilty about that night as your son."
"Our apologies will never be enough, we know that," Rabastan offered cautiously.
"And the last thing we would want is to cause you or your family even more pain," Rudolphus added, looking from Augusta, who had crossed her arms over her chest and was glaring angrily at them, to Neville, who still seemed torn on how to react to all of this.
Then both brothers turned to look at Holly. "From our understanding, our presence is not required for what you are suggesting so we shall wait outside."
"Please call us if there is anything we can do," Rudolphus finished.
They exchanged another long look with the Potions Master, maybe trying to communicate to him that he needed to keep an eye on her in their stead, before quietly slipping from the room.
"Good riddance!" Augusta declared, shushing her grandson when he started to say something. "Now, how are we doing this?"
"Wait, you're agreeing to Holly's plan?" Neville stared at her with surprise and unabashed hope and the old witch huffed impatiently.
"Do keep up, Neville, of course I do. We hardly have anything to lose at this point and if your friend is willing to make this attempt, we will graciously accept," she declared haughtily. "Now, you'd best get Healer Strout in here. I would like her to oversee the procedure."
"I don't think there will be much to see, Mrs. Longbottom," Holly offered, looking to Sarah for confirmation as Neville hastened to comply with Augusta's orders.
"I would ask you all to wait outside to keep any incidental emotions to a minimum, but having a healer on standby will certainly be a good idea," Sarah stated, her aura projecting a reassuring calm and confidence as she answered a few more questions and then ushered everyone, including a rather confused Healer Strout, save Holly and Simon, out of the room.
"Last chance," Simon told her softly, but Holly shook her head and sank down on one of the visitor's chairs next to Frank Longbottom's bed.
"I know it will work," she said, grasping his limp hand before looking up at the two other empaths.
"His emotions will likely be more intense, more painful and even harder to manage than what you felt in the memories we visited," Sarah still warned her, sitting down next to her. "And you will have to allow them to course through you in order to filter them, to dampen their harmful effect on his psyche and remind him of the other emotions you want him to remember. You will have to take down your shields completely, Holly."
Holly nodded a little jerkily, knowing that that was the crux of the problem. They all had shields, an emotional buffer zone to protect them from everything everyone around them was feeling, but while Sarah's and Simon's were permeable, only helping to lessen the impact of particularly strong emotions, Holly's shields were hard and tight like armour.
Sarah had tried to coach her to replace them with lighter shields in the past, claiming that it wasn't good for an empath to cut themselves off completely from the emotions around them. But when Holly had struggled and grown frustrated with her own inability to accomplish something that seemed to come so naturally to the other two empaths, she had pulled her into a hug and murmured that it wasn't her fault, that Holly had probably created those shields to protect herself from all the negativity she received from the Dursleys. Holly hadn't wanted to look too closely into that and mostly felt that the vague general impressions and the spillover of particularly intense emotions was already enough to deal with.
But she had needed to lower her shields earlier, when they had gone into the two memories, and the full impact of all those emotions had hit her, a dizzying, disorienting pain so profound that for a small eternity she had not been able to speak, to move, to breathe. If Professor Snape or the Lestranges had seen her then, they would never have allowed her to continue, she was sure. But Simon and Sarah had got her through the worst of it, held her while she sobbed and shivered and then helped to re-erect some makeshift shields, mostly consisting of Simon wrapping her in a cocoon of safety and calm.
She could still feel the emotions raging through her, chipping away at her flimsy shields. Letting them down wouldn't be a problem; she just wasn't sure if she would be able to build them back up again. But thinking things through to the very end had never been her strong suit, as Snape would no doubt agree, and sometimes it was easier to jump than to stare down into the abyss.
She reached out to Frank Longbottom again, not just with her hands this time, but with her mind, submerging herself in the maelstrom of his trauma to try and guide him back to safer ground.