Title:Game Without Tears

Disclaimer: I do not own, wish I did, but I don't. I only own my plot line. Full disclaimer, first chapter.

Author: ShaeLynn Teelle

All other information: See first chapter.

Polite constructive criticism welcome. FLAMES WILL BE FED TO THE DRAGON IN MY BED.

Chapter 8: Say Farewell to the Night

"Good luck, Neville," Harry said quietly from where he had gone unnoticed on the couch.

The other boy turned suddenly, not having expected anyone to be awake so early in the morning. Harry sat at the far end of the couch in front of the fireplace, one of his textbooks on his lap and a sheet of parchment on the low table in front of him. Neville walked over and sat beside him on the couch, knowing he had some time before McGonagall came to take him to Dumbledore's office.

"Nightmares or visions?" he asked quietly.

Harry laughed, really laughed, for the first time that year, surprising Neville who had missed the sound, "Neither actually. At least, not that I can remember. I forgot about an essay due after breakfast in Potions and woke up remembering it about an hour ago."

"My sympathies. Even if I had done well enough on my OWL's I don't think I would have taken Potions again," Neville said and Harry laughed again, remembering Neville's boggart from third year.

"You do know that he's the one brewing the potion for your parents, right?"

"Yes. I've always respected his ability to create potions; I just can't handle how he teaches. His entire demeanor just frightens me."

Harry would have answered, but McGonagall chose that moment to enter Gryffindor tower.

"Are you ready, Mr. Longbottom?" she asked, hands clasped serenely in front of her.

"Yes, Professor. I'll see you in a few days, Harry. Good luck on the essay."

"Thanks, Neville. I'll see you when you get back."

Then, the other young man left, trailing behind McGonagall until they reached Dumbledore's office. When they reached the Headmaster's office they found Dumbledore waiting for them.

"Good morning, Mr. Longbottom. I have a portkey to take you to your Grandmother's home. From there you will be accompanying her to St. Mungo's. I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Longbottom."

Dumbledore then handed an old dented can to Professor McGonagall and gestured for Neville to take hold of it as well.

"I will ensure there are no problems when we arrive, Mr. Longbottom," McGonagall offered as explanation.

"Thank you, Professor."

A moment later the two found themselves in the sitting room of Long Hall. Mrs. Longbottom entered and nodded at Minerva who returned the gesture, though the matron didn't notice as she was looking down disapprovingly at Neville whom had had the misfortune of falling to his knees when the portkey deposited him in his home.

"Neville, thank Professor McGonagall so that we might be on our way. I do not hold much hope for this potion working, but as I have been assured it could not make them any worse, I will permit it. However, I do not wish to waste anymore time than I am required to in this endeavor."

Neville quickly stood and quietly thanked his Head of House before hurrying over to his Grandmother's side where she was waiting impatiently by the door. Half an hour later they were standing to the side of the Longbottoms' beds at St. Mungo's, watching as a vial of the potion, lilac in color with red and blue swirls that wouldn't mix, was given to both Longbottoms who fell asleep only a few moments later. After a quiet debate, Neville chose a chair between his parents' beds and his Grandmother left disapprovingly, saying she would return the next morning when the two woke.

\/\/\/\/\/

Alice Longbottom was the first to stir the next morning. The medi-witch keeping vigil gently shook Neville's shoulder when she noticed and woke him, warning him to wait before he spoke. He sat up in the bed he had been told to sleep in the night before and watched his mother, silently encouraging her. After a moment, she opened her eyes and sat up, watching the medi-witch as she walked over to her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Longbottom. How are you feeling today?" the woman asked as she did every morning, but this morning she hoped for a response of any kind other than the clueless smile as was usual for the past dozen plus years.

"Alice, please. Mrs. Longbottom is my crabby mother-in-law, Healer Maeriem. I feel better than I have in a long time," she said very quietly, but quite clearly.

Then, she caught movement to the side and looked over at Neville who had just stood, his clothes wrinkled from sleeping in them. "Neville! Oh, my little boy," and she held her arms open and towards him.

Neville hesitated for a split second before practically running into his mother's waiting arms. He didn't notice the tears that had begun running down his face and neither woman commented on them as tears were sliding down their own cheeks. Neville's arms were wrapped tightly about his mother as he cried into her shoulder.

While the two were occupied with their hug, Frank Longbottom woke. He looked to the side and saw his wife and their son hugging as tears rolled down their cheeks and tears crept into his own eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Instead, he stood shakily and went over to his son. He placed a gentle hand on Neville's shoulder. He quickly looked up; face tearstained though the tears had begun to stop.

Seeing his father standing behind him renewed the flow of tears down Neville's face, though he tried to cease crying in front of his father. At the sight, Frank sat on the bed next to him and quickly pulled his son into his arms, rocking him slightly despite Neville's age as he let his own tears begin to fall.

They stayed like that for a long time, Neville's parents taking turns hugging him and alternating between laughing and crying. Afterwards, they spent nearly an hour talking, Neville telling them about his classes and what had been happening since the last time he had visited them that past Christmas.

Then, his parents revealed that even though they hadn't been able to respond to what was happening around them, they had understood what was going on and they remembered everything that had happened or had been told to them.

"I know you've kept the things I've given you, Neville," Alice whispered into her son's ear. "All the wrappers, the scraps I've given you… Your grandmother never noticed, but I saw you slip them into your pockets all the time. You are so precious to me, Nev."

As tears started to slip from Neville's eyes again Mrs. Longbottom entered the ward. She watched the scene for a moment, taking in Frank having a coherent conversation with the usual medi-witch and Alice holding Neville in her arms. The elderly woman strode briskly over to the group, staring at Neville.

"Neville, quit blubbering. It's good to see that the potion was a success, but that is no reason to be carrying on so."

"Actually, Mother," Alice said rather coldly. "I think that this would be a perfect reason to 'carry on so'."

"Alice, it is my opinion that all the molly-coddling you did of the boy after he was born is what nearly made him a squib. If you had not pampered him so greatly as an infant, he might never have been such a—"

"Don't say it, Mother," Frank interrupted her, standing tall in front of his mother. "Neville is not a disappointment. Not to me and I'm positive not to Alice. Simply because he did not follow the same path I did, does not mean anything. He loves Herbology and I would rather have him wanting to continue in that field than try for any kind of Auror position. True, his marks would have made it impossible, but otherwise he might have ended up the same as we did."

"We might not have been able to respond to what happened around us, but that doesn't mean we weren't aware of everything you've ever criticized Neville about in our presence, often for no valid reason," Alice added, also standing beside her husband.

From his place sitting on the hospital bed, Neville looked up at the scene in front of him. His parents stood there in the provided hospital clothing, having a stare-down against his grandmother in her vulture hat and wrap. Suddenly the imposing woman that Neville feared as much as he loved didn't seem so towering anymore.

After nearly five minutes of staring, Frank and Alice never giving any ground, Mrs. Longbottom nodded once and left the room. Then, the two were sitting once more on either side of Neville, but the silence did not go unbroken.

"I'm sorry, Mum, Da."

"Don't be, Neville," Frank said, laying a hand lightly on his son's shoulder. "My mother is well aware that I had promised myself years ago that I would not let my children be raised as I was. Yet, you were. I'm the one that's sorry."

"Nev, your Uncle John was very much like you in temperament and interests. Even at a young age he knew that he wanted to teach. He didn't know what he wanted to teach, only that he wanted to be a Professor of something," Alice said softly, brushing Neville's hair away from where it had fallen into his face.

"My brother was killed shortly after you were born, Neville," Frank said, frowning. "He had married a muggle-born and Voldemort went after the village they lived in. They were far out-numbered. Mother always thought it was because he had no interest in fighting that got him killed, but he could out-duel me at any time. Your grandmother has always placed more importance on severe action rather than thought. I'm glad that you haven't followed in our footsteps with your future. The DA's a good way to learn how to defend yourself effectively and that's always good to know. I'm very proud of who you are, Neville."

"So am I, Nev. I love you," Alice whispered quietly, once more enveloping her son in her arms.

\/\/\/\/\/

The next morning Neville returned to Hogwarts before breakfast. The students that saw him watched as he walked through the school to the Headmaster's office. He didn't look any differently, but he had an air of confidence about him that he had never controlled before and he commanded attention just with his presence.

He reached the headmaster's office and stopped. Neville looked at the gargoyle in front of him for a moment in uncertainty before he felt someone behind him. He turned to see Harry standing there, a slight smile across his lips.

Harry nodded once to the other, "Alright, Neville?"

"Alright. Even better," Neville said, a bright smile crossing his face.

Harry sent a genuine smile to his friend and stepped past him, quietly saying the password. Then, he stepped back as the statue moved and allowed Neville to precede him. They reached the office and Harry entered without knocking. Neville followed behind him, seeing no one in the room beyond the Phoenix on its perch near Dumbledore's desk. Harry motioned for Neville to sit in one of the chairs in front of the large desk and moved over to the Phoenix, gently stroking its head. Fawkes gave a soft trill in gratitude for the attention.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom."

The voice startled Neville temporarily and he looked up to the second floor of the office in time to see Dumbledore begin to come down the staircase nearest Harry.

"I've just finished the most encouraging fire call I've had in a long time. It was so very good to be able to speak with your mother and father again. They tell me that they wish to remain at St. Mungo's until the summer holidays begin. Then, they will return to their home with you in company."

"Yes, sir. They thought it the best way to keep Voldemort from finding out that they had regained themselves. They also wanted to help some of the others that were to be given the potion. They said that it would be hard for some of the others to handle how long they had been unaware with no one informing them of what was happening. Mother and Father felt they should repay St. Mungo's for all they've done for them. Sir, would you know where Professor Snape might be right now? I wish to thank him… for everything," Neville said softly and Harry turned to look at him in slight confusion while the Headmaster's eyes just twinkled.

"So, your parents told you about all of that. I had wondered if they might now or if they'd wait."

"They had wanted to know who brewed the potion. It came out after that."

"I see. Well, Mr. Longbottom, you happen to be in luck. Come in, Severus," Dumbledore said and the door opened to reveal a scowling Snape.

"Headmaster, Mr. Longbottom, Potter. If you have time before breakfast, Albus, I would like to discuss something with you."

"Of course, Severus. It will just be a few moments. Also, there is someone here that would like to speak with you," Albus said, eyes twinkling even more.

Snape turned to Harry, expecting him to be the one who wanted to say something. Harry shook his head and looked across to Neville. Surprised, Snape turned to the boy he had purposefully terrified in Potions.

"Sir, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for my parents… and for me. My parents told me some things about you that I'm sure you have never wanted me to know, but it explains a lot about how you've treated me. I just wanted you to know that I understand and that I'm grateful for all you've done."

Then, Neville stood and nodded to both Professors, smiled at Harry and left the office. Snape stood there, completely motionless. He turned back to Albus, his mask gone for the moment and incredulous confusion adorned his face.

"Did Longbottom just…"

"Yes, Severus. And I must say that it was well worth it to see the look on your face. Now, what was it that you wished to speak to me about?"

Snape glanced at Harry once before beginning, his mask firmly in place once more, "The Slytherins. The seventh years specifically. Something is going on with them that I am unaware of and I can't get any information from any of the younger years."

"I see. What information do you have so far?" Dumbledore asked quietly, steepling his fingers in front of his face as he listened intently.

"The seventh years appear to have separated into roughly three groups, though there are some that flitter between groups like they are part of both. You and I both know that while there may be one or two loners throughout the entire Slytherin dorms, the years themselves rarely ever divide, for safety's sake. They know that if they can't turn to each other without recourse, there IS no one they can turn to.

"Miss Greengrass and Miss Parkinson are the two that seem to belong to more than one group. Mr. Zabini and Miss Davis are one group with Miss Greengrass moving between this group and Mr. Malfoy's group, which consists of himself, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, and Miss Parkinson. She also spends time with Miss Bulstrode who spends most of her time with Mr. Nott, making the third group."

"Perhaps the split is based off who supports Voldemort," Harry said quietly from his place by Dumbleore's desk. "Daphne and Tracey are both members of the DA and Blaise is known to us, so Daphne might be checking on the loyalty of Malfoy's grou— never mind."

"Exactly, Potter. At first I had hoped that was the case until I looked closer at who was involved with the split. All three of us know that Lucius controls his son, even from a distance. There is no way Mr. Malfoy could survive unmarked. On the other side of the split sits Miss Bulstrode and Mr. Nott. Both of whom were scheduled to be marked shortly after I was discovered. If either had declined, that person would not be in the school anymore. Miss Parkinson as well would not escape her fate unless her father was killed outright which we know has not happened.

"I request that those loyal to the Order discreetly watch the Slytherins. We can't afford to not know what is happening in the Serpent's Nest."

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