Things got worse still. Neville did heal from his fall, thanks in no small part to both the Headmaster and Madame Pomfrey. Neville did not stay in the infirmary any longer than necessary, however, because the Carrows had the run of everywhere and even Poppy couldn't keep them out. Dumbledore's Army, true to Snape's suggestion, started having many of the half-blood students stay in the room of requirement. By February, there were students in there around the clock. The room created hammocks, boys and girls lavatories, and even schoolbooks so they could continue their studies. The room could not provide food, however, and so the acquisition of that food was a major source of anxiety for Neville.

"Who's on the roster for today?" Neville asked Seamus as they were unpacking the food that they had snitched from the house elves. The house elves were technically supposed to obey the headmaster, but they managed to find ways to allow themselves to be robbed. Neville wasn't so sure that wasn't what the headmaster ordered.

"We have the half-blood firsties in here now all the time," Seamus told him. "And most of the second years."

Neville looked Seamus over critically, worried about his puffy and bruised face. "Who got you this time?" he asked softly.

"The male one," Seamus answered, touching his eye self-consciously. "He didn't catch me with the paint, but I was coming out of the cupboard it was kept in. I insisted that I was simply putting something away for McGonagall, but of course . . ."

"Which one did you go with this time?" Neville asked.

"I thought I'd do a classic," Seamus answered. "I went with 'Remember Cedric.'"

"I like that one," Neville smiled. "Good work."

"Is it, you know?" Seamus asked.

"Going to cost me the cane?" Neville asked, grimacing. "We'll see. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't."

"Snape is a git," Seamus scowled. "I know you think he's trying to help us, but . . ."

"I'm still not sure if he's good or bad," Neville admitted. "But he's better than the Carrows. I sometimes wonder if he's just trying to get information out of me, but in the meantime he's protecting us at least a little."

"Tell your backside next time he takes that cane to you," Seamus scoffed.

"It hurts," Neville told him. "But it's better than the cruciatus. And I have that salve too. Would you like me to get some for your face?"

"No," Seamus answered. "The room has started stocking healing supplies when you told it we needed them. I don't want to use too many, however, because I think the Carrow that gave it to me might get suspicious."

"Then that's an advantage with the cane," Neville smirked. "Nobody sees it."

"You know, maybe we should step back some of it," Seamus suggested. "You know, save your backside a bit?"

"It gives people heart," Neville said softly. "I remember when Harry stood up to that monster Umbridge. No matter how many detentions he had where she made him slice open his hand with that bloody quill, he kept saying the truth about You-Know-Who. It gave us all heart, and reminded us that Umbridge and the ministry were lying."

Seamus shook his head. "It's bloody foolish," he said. "For Harry too. But I understand what you mean."

"It's war," Neville told him. "And we're doing our part of it. Our part is to hold Hogwarts as well as we can until Harry returns."

"He's not coming back, mate," Seamus scowled. "We can't wait for him to come back, we need to protect ourselves and the younger kids."

"We do need to protect the younger kids," Neville agreed. "But we also need to give them hope. If we think that the Dark Lord is going to win, then we've lost the war."

"He is going to win," Seamus grumbled. "Our only hope is Harry, and let's be honest mate, the bloke couldn't even pass Potions without Granger."

"He's the chosen one," Neville told him stubbornly. "He's our best hope."

"Look, mate, we're holding nothing," Seamus told him. "The only reason we're here is because we're hostages. They're using us to make our families cooperate."

"Then let's make sure that we're hard to control," Neville told him. "We're not merely pawns in this, we can fight back!"

"Like Nina Smith?" Seamus asked. "Do I need to remind you that she's most likely dead?"

"What would you have us do?" Neville snapped. "Give up? Become good hostages? Roll over and hope the Carrows don't kick us? Are you a Gryffindor or what?"

"I'm a Gryffindor," Seamus replied with chagrin. "Tell me what to do you bloody hero."

"Get Ginny," he told him. "There's a half-blood Ravenclaw third year hiding in Myrtle's bathroom that needs to make it here without the Carrows finding her. They're looking for her, apparently her parents aren't cooperating. The two of you should be able to manage it."

"Where are you going?" Seamus asked.

"Distraction," Neville replied. "I'm going to get myself caught, preferably by both of them."

"What makes you think it will take both?" Seamus asked.

"They like to watch," Neville grimaced. "They like to watch me get the cane. I'll make sure that they get their show."

"How do you know about so much stuff?" Seamus asked, wondering.

"I just know," Neville told them. "Make sure you have Ginny, though, and maybe even Dean too. You know, Seamus, as a half-blood yourself, at some point you're going to have to start hiding out in here too."

"I will fight while I can," Seamus told him, his face set with determination.

"Just take care, then."

"I will," Seamus said. "How long will it take you to get in trouble?"

"Quarter hour, tops," Neville told him. "What do you think, getting caught with the graffiti or playing a prank?"

"I hear getting caught with anything from Fred and George's store will get you in trouble," Seamus told him. "Stink bombs?"

"I wish I could attack the Carrows directly," Neville mused. "But I don't want to 'disappear.' It has to be bad enough to distract but not so bad they kill me."

"I'm telling you, stink bombs are a classic."

"I have an idea," Neville smiled. "Get some parchment."

. . .

Snape was in his office working on paperwork when an angry knock sounded. The person knocking burst into the room almost as Snape called for them to enter, and not to any great surprise on the Headmaster's part it was both Carrows with Neville. What did surprise him, however, was that the Carrows had several parchments clutched in their hands and instead of looking irate, they were smirking and looked as if they were expecting something really good, like how a student might look on Halloween or Christmas.

"What have we here?" Snape asked, his voice full of malice.

"Caught red-handed," the female Carrow smirked. "He was posting these in the hallways."

Snape accepted one of the parchments from him, and read what was on it impassively. He looked sharply at Neville after he read it, trying to understand why he would do something so obvious and so clearly earning the cane. Ah, Snape realized. He wants to distract the Carrows while something else was going on, and so he did something that he knew would make them take him to the Headmaster with glee at what they would witness - his caning. Snape could barely stand how noble this teen was - did he really have no sense of self-preservation?

"I see," Snape said, putting the parchment down on his desk. "Really, Mr. Longbottom, if you cannot do a better likeness of me you should probably end your career in art altogether."

"Yes, sir," Neville answered, his eyes glued firmly on his shoes.

"I also would like to remind you in the future that you should not write things that are not actually true. I'm touched that you would show concern over my parentage, but let me assure you that my parents were actually married at my birth. And I would also like to comment that some of the suggestions you make about my leisure activities are anatomically impossible, even for a wizard."

"I'm sorry, sir," Neville mumbled, eyes still glued to his shoes.

"I'm sure you are now," Snape mused. "People always are when they're caught."

"It was just a joke, really," Neville explained, licking his lips with anxiety. "A prank. Things have just been so difficult around here that I thought people could use a laugh."

"I'm certain that you understand that such a prank will earn you a session with the cane, do you not?"

"I understand," Neville sighed, and nodded. Then, with a furtive glance at the headmaster, he hoped that Snape would understand his meaning. "Please, sir, don't cane me in front of the Carrows. Please, sir."

"Of course I will cane you in front of them," Snape snapped at the boy, understanding that's what he wanted. "But your detention after will be more . . . private. I believe by now you know the drill."

"Yes, sir," Neville replied. "May I remove my robe?"

"You may," Snape told him, summoning the cane. "Bend over the desk. Six of the best, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville, paling but trying to look brave, took off his robe and laid it beside him on the desk. Snape heard the soft click of potion vials, and understood why Neville wanted to remove his robes. Perhaps the boy had taken to carrying around potions in his robe as Snape himself did, so he would be prepared for whatever injury he came across. That in itself earned him an easier detention this evening, he wouldn't even use stinging hexes for shielding practice.

"Only six?" the female Carrow protested. "He was trying to humiliate you!"

"He did such a poor job he barely warrants six," Snape told her, flexing the cane. "If he were more competent he might get more. And as I said, six at my hand is no small matter."

Neville obeyed, swallowing firmly and trying hard to focus his mind so that he could suffer the cane without breaking down.

"Prepare yourself, Mr. Longbottom," Snape told him, touching his bottom with the cane to take aim. The cane whistled through the air, ending with a sharp crack on Neville's upturned bottom. He flinched and let out a small cry, though he bit his lip against more. The cane fell again and then again, filling the silent room with the whoosh and the crack.

"Six," Snape said dispassionately as he delivered the final blow on the miscreant's bottom. He observed Neville's tears and his pain, though he tried not to feel sympathy for the boy. This was war, and a few stripes never killed anyone.

"You may rise, Mr. Longbottom," Snape told him, sending the cane back to the cupboard. "But do not leave, we have detention remaining."

"What do you make him do during detention?" the male Carrow asked with a leer.

"That is not something you are going to find out," Snape firmly told him. "I believe that you two are needed elsewhere."

"You never let us have any fun," the female Carrow protested.

"You watched the caning," Snape told her with a frown. "I'm not sure why you think the rest of his punishment will be fun to watch. I suppose you could watch it as he scrubs my floor with a toothbrush . . ."

"I guess we could go back to patrol," the female Carrow agreed. "But if you do anything creative, make sure you call us back."

"Indeed, I will," Snape nodded.

After the two were gone, Snape cast a muffling spell and then turned to Neville. "Was that sufficient time or do you need me to call them back to witness your further punishment?"

"That should have been sufficient," Neville answered, touching his backside gingerly and then rubbing it gently. "That really hurt."

"It was meant to," Snape told him sharply. "We can't have anybody thinking I'm going soft on you, now can we?"

"Of course not," Neville nodded. "I understand."

"You deserved at least a few good whacks for the graffiti," Snape told him. "You need to stop being so foolish about engaging in such inane gestures."

"I'm trying to keep hope alive," Neville told him honestly.

"There has got to be easier ways."

"Harry did it this way," Neville replied stubbornly. "People get hope when they see someone standing up to the evil oppressors."

"Is that hope worth what it costs you?"

"Probably," Neville smirked. "Ask me when my arse isn't on fire."

Snape couldn't help but smirk back at the boy, he was just so engaging. What he was doing had certain logic, even though it was completely against the logic and strategy that Snape employed himself. Snape had noticed this with Harry too, his stubborn resistance to submitting to the ministry and Umbridge really did inspire his classmates. It had impressed Dumbledore as well, although his approval had to be more circumspect.

"The poster was a good strategy, however," Snape commented. "It got them both here, and it convinced them that I would be harsh in my punishment. However, the art was somewhat lacking."

"I shall try to improve," Neville smirked.

"Good, then let's get on with the rest of your detention."

"Yes," Neville replied with a smirk. "Should I get my toothbrush?"

"Only if you fail to block well enough," Snape drawled. "En Garde!"