A/n: I realize it has been forever since I updated this story. The good news is that it is finished. I will be posting at least weekly. I appreciate all of those who have waited patiently and even those waiting not so patiently. It is fitting that I have finished this story on this day. It is February 21st- Alan Rickman's birthday. I first wrote and posted Birthday Wishes on his birthday ... 5 years ago. Wow... it really had taken me a long time to finish this! Thanks to my Beta, Sevfank! You are awesome.

Power in All Its Glory

Chapter 32: A Little Fun with Neville

Hermione rushed through the halls of Hogwarts, the files once again reduced and safely in her pockets. As she continued her journey, she realized she was getting a lot of attention from the students around her. She was so happy that, at times, she actually laughed out loud. She knew who it was! Things were starting to fall into place. How could she have not seen it sooner? She had to get to Snape and tell him …

He would not believe her. She knew it with a certainty. There was no way he would believe Neville had the ability to do this.

Hermione suddenly stopped. Other students in the hallway had to move around her so as not to run into her. A far worse possibility had entered her mind. What if he did believe her?

He would kill Neville. Painfully.

She couldn't let that happen.

Not that Neville didn't deserve the wrath of Snape. After all, didn't she have the same desire to hurt her fellow Gryffindor?

She had thought they were friends and yet, he did this to her. Memories flooded back to her as she stood there, now oblivious to the others around her. The way she had ended up in the Room of Requirement…practically naked. How she had not wanted to involve Neville and yet he had been so willing to help her. Oh, how he must have enjoyed it when she had asked him to pretend he was her boyfriend. He knew all along what was going on. He had devised the whole plan!

She had even kissed him …

Hermione's happiness quickly turned to anger. No, she would not go to Snape. She would take care of this herself.

And Neville's survival was not yet a certainty. His life could still be taken away. Painfully.

*****

Sibyll Trelawney consulted every medium she knew to find the answers she was seeking: tea leaves, crystal ball, Tarot cards…

Nothing. Even her Inner Eye was blocked. All of this anxiety was impeding her gift, she concluded.

What was she going to do? She could not let Draco go to the headmaster. He would confess to something he did not even do. He would get expelled. His father would be furious.

She could not let that happen.

She had to go to the headmaster and explain everything.

But first, perhaps just a bit of sherry …

*****

The library was quiet. That, in itself, was normal for a Sunday morning. What was unusual was that Neville was there. He studied, of course. He had to if he wanted to pass his classes. He certainly did not want to listen to his grandmother tell him how worthless he was. It was just that he did not study as much as some … well, Hermione in particular.

Of course, he was not there to study this morning. The book he had with him was for appearances only.

He was actually hoping to see Hermione. He had been to the dorm, the Gryffindor common room, and the dining hall. She was at none of those places. The library had been the next logical choice.

He wasn't sure why he needed to see her so much. He had mixed feelings. On the one hand, he relished the power he had achieved, but on the other … what price had to be paid?

What price did Hermione have to pay?

So what was his plan? Confess all to her? Not likely! He valued his life after all, and she scared him a bit more than Snape.

As he contemplated this, a dark shadow fell over the book he was not actually reading. His head snapped up in surprise.

"H … H … Hermione?" He stuttered nervously.

"Neville," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "I must say I am surprised to find you in the library on a Sunday morning."

"Are you here working on Snape's Potions essay?" he asked hopefully. There was just something … he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something just wasn't right.

"Actually, Neville," she said, sitting down in the chair next to him. "I am here looking for you."

He tried to hide the alarm he felt at her words. Definitely, not right.

She grabbed his hand that was lying on the table and squeezed affectionately. "I just wanted to thank you, Neville, for everything you have done."

"Hermione, really. It was nothing …"

"You have been a true friend, Neville. No matter what happens, I know you will always be there to help me."

He nodded weakly at her. He wasn't sure what to say.

"The one thing I know for certain," she continued, "is that you would never pretend to be my friend, pretend to care about me, while all the time, stabbing me in the back."

"Of course not …"

"In fact, it is a comfort to know that you would never stoop to knocking me out and placing me in a compromising situation, just to feed some sick need for power and revenge. Would you, Neville dear?"

And although she was still smiling at him, he knew without a doubt that she was aware of everything he had done. Well, maybe not everything, but enough. Enough to make him fear for his life.

"Hermione …"

"Yes, my dear boyfriend?" The endearment was said through gritted teeth, and he knew the time for sweetness was at an end.

"I never meant to hurt you, Hermione."

"Then that's all right, isn't it? As long as you didn't mean to hurt me, I guess all is forgiven."

The guilt and frustration was too much. Yes, he had hurt her, but what about all the pain he had been through?

"You don't understand! How could you? I am sorry for the pain, the humiliation, the frustration you have had to bear for the last few weeks, but try living it! Try dealing with it every day for the past seven years!" He knew he was shouting but he didn't care. As soon as his tirade began, Hermione had waved her wand.

"Muffliato!"

"So that makes it alright, then?"

"Yeah, maybe it does."

"So, if someone was constantly overlooked, underestimated, and humiliated … if everyone … students, teachers, your own family didn't believe in you … if, in fact, a person was powerless to stop it all, that would be reason enough? They would be justified in taking what power they could, in hurting others who had done them no harm because they had been mistreated and misunderstood. Is that what you're telling me, Neville Longbottom?"

"I am," he said, with more confidence than he felt.

"And if that person used his power in a career that gave him the opportunity to put others down … would he be justified because of how he was brought up? Because of how he was treated when he was in school?"

Neville opened his mouth to reply and then promptly shut it again. He was caught, and he knew it. They were no longer talking about him. She was comparing him to Snape.

"I am nothing like him," he replied stubbornly.

"No, I guess not," she agreed. "He has put his life on the line for years, spying on the Dark Lord. That takes courage and selflessness."

Neville lowered his head. He couldn't face her when she looked at him like that.

Hermione sighed and put her hand on his arm. "But Neville, you could be like that. I have seen you when you stand up for what you believe in. You have it in you to be a great, courageous man."

"Really?" He looked at her doubtfully.

"Yes, but you have to believe in yourself."

He looked at her with mixed feelings. He was glad to have everything in the open, but worried about what she would do next.

"Come on," she said, pulling him up by the arm. "I know a way you can prove it."