A/N: Thank you all for hanging in with me despite the long waits between updates! To everyone who commented, thank you so much! I always love reading what you think.

Thanks to AngstySnake for betaing this chapter for me!

Summary of the last chapter: The Gryffindor boys decide they need more information before trying to find and rescue Ginny, and plan to meet with the DA. Harry experiences being the focus of a Care of Magical Creatures class, where it isn't acknowledged that he's a sentient being. He and Neville exchange a simple message, and Neville speaks to the professor about joining the Hogwarts Aquatic Research Program (H.A.R.P.).

Neville's head spun with thoughts as he hurried from the room where they'd had Care of Magical Creatures class to the Room of Requirement, where the DA was assembling. He'd made contact, of a kind, with Harry, proving that Harry was - if not still human - still sentient and on their side. Neville was more determined than ever to establish some way to properly communicate with Harry. It was obvious that merely being in the same room with him wouldn't be enough, as it seemed sirens were unintelligible above water just like the rest of mer.

Neville had many questions. What had Harry been doing? Where were Hermione and Ron? How had Harry been transformed into a siren, and could he be changed back? Was there a way for Neville to help, either the war effort or Harry?

But, as Neville paced in front of the Room of Requirement's doors, he reminded himself that at the moment, his more pressing concern was Ginny.

Inside, most of the others had already gathered. Their ranks had been growing along with the discontent in the castle. The original group had been mostly students in Neville's year, with a handful from the year below who were friends with Ginny. Now, they had even more of the sixth-year class attending, as well as a good number of fifth-years who'd been brought in by Dennis Creevey - much more adept socially than his older brother, he had friends across all the houses, and had brought in DA members from all except Slytherin.

That many people meant there was even more room for discord than there had been in Neville's fifth year. Arguments were already taking place in scattered groups. Voices were raised, tempers were running high, and there was no Harry to unify them. Neville watched it all for a moment, waiting for someone to step up and take the lead - Seamus, maybe, or… well, anyone else Neville would have expected was currently held prisoner or not at Hogwarts.

Seamus, though, was one of those currently arguing at the top of his lungs with the Patil twins, and he didn't seem like he was about to back down and take control of the room.

Neville took a deep breath, gathering his nerve, and then shouted as loudly as he could over the din.

"Hey!"

He was surprised when the room actually quieted. Neville swallowed, feeling his face heat in a way that only increased his embarrassment.

"I know we're all stressed out and afraid. But let's, um, talk this out without going at each other, yeah?"

A few scattered nods; some sheepish looks; a few hung heads. Neville waited for someone who'd been outspoken and arguing to step forward and say their piece, but instead, everyone stood, watching him.

Why me?

Feeling as if he might just melt into goo and seep into the cracks in the flagstones, Neville walked to the head of the room and turned to face everyone, trying his best to ignore the way his face was flaming.

"So… I'm guessing you all know about the situation," Neville started, scratching the back of his neck. "Ginny was taken, and we don't know where she is. I asked for this meeting to combine our knowledge, and figure out a plan to rescue her if she's still in Hogwarts. Has anyone heard anything?"

"One of our fifth-year prefects heard Alecto Carrow firing spells in the halls last night, but they didn't get close enough to see anything," Susan Bones said. "They were patrolling with Neely from Slytherin."

"What kinds of spells?" Neville asked.

"Didn't say," Susan said. "But since it was Carrow, I'm assuming it wasn't anything pleasant."

"As long as she wasn't throwing killing curses," Michael Corner muttered, echoing Neville's thoughts.

"They'll want to make an example of her, after that painting she did," Padma Patil said. "I doubt they killed her."

"It was graffiti," Colin Creevey said.

"What?" Neville asked.

"Graffiti? It's… the type of painting she did," Lavender Brown explained, head ducking as attention swung towards her.

"It's usually meant to both deface a public place and send a message," Justin Finch-Fletchley said.

A muggle thing, then, Neville surmised.

"People who get caught doing it usually just have to do some community service," Lavender said, biting her lip. "But then, most people insulted by it aren't You-Know-Who."

They were getting off-topic.

"We need to figure out where she is, and keep an ear to the ground for any news about what they might be planning," Neville said. "Prefects, let's do our best to use our patrols to search. Does anyone else have other ideas?"

"I can try to find out the latest Slytherin gossip," Dennis Creevey volunteered.

Neville bit his lip. "Don't make it obvious. The last thing we need is you disappearing too because you were being too nosy."

Dennis nodded and gave Neville a small, casual salute that did nothing at all to reassure Neville that he'd be discreet.

"I hate to be a downer, but if we do find her, what are we going to do about it?" Zacharias Smith said. "The castle is already on lockdown, and she can hardly go back to living in Gryffindor."

"There are secret passages out, aren't there?" Colin Creevey asked.

"They've been blocked up," Flynn Murry, one of Ginny's closer friends, said. "Snape obviously knew about them."

"What about here?" Hannah Abbot asked. "No one has found us here so far."

"Umbridge did," Ernie MacMillan argued. "And I've told you all we shouldn't still be coming here, after that! She was cozy with Malfoy and the Slytherins and with Snape! It's a miracle we haven't all been arrested yet!"

Voices rose in argument at that, shouting Ernie down with phrases like "And where else can we go?" and "So what would you have us do, hide behind our bed curtains?"

"Knock it off!" Susan Bones shouted, bringing the arguing back down to just a few glares directed Ernie's way. "We can't fight back without accepting some risk," Susan went on.

"Right," Neville said. "And, for whatever reason, Snape hasn't chased us down here yet. It's the safest place we know of, so unless anyone can think of anywhere else that's safer, this will have to do for hiding our meetings, as well as Ginny, when we get her."

"And how are we going to do that?" Fey Dunbar asked loudly. "You really want to go up against Death Eaters to bail out a girl who didn't have the common sense to avoid a midnight stroll while she was being hunted?"

A fresh wave of raised voices swelled, louder than the last time. This time, some were agreeing with Fey. Dean was yelling across the room at the girl for daring to suggest that they abandon one of their own, and some of the sixth-year Hufflepuffs were shouting in agreement with him. Even Susan was glaring at Fey, and letting her younger housemates shout their insults.

"Shut it!" Neville shouted. Some of the others quieted, though Dean continued to rant for a minute before Seamus jabbed him in the ribs to stop him.

"We are going to try whatever we can to help her," Neville said, hoping his anxiety wasn't showing in his clenched fists. "If you don't want to help out, then I'm not going to hold it against you if you don't want to take the risk. So long as you keep your mouth shut about it, we're all still on the same side, and no one is going to force anyone to do anything. Got it?"

Fey twitched her nose, but nodded. A few others were still shooting glares, but the arguing didn't resume.

"Great," Neville said. "That's that sorted. Does anyone else have anything to say?"

"Yeah. What are we going to do about Harry?" It was Demelza Robins, a fifth-year Gryffindor who'd been on the quidditch team while Harry was captain last year.

"He's gone," Padma Patil said, far too snappily. "You all saw him. Heard him. We can't waste our time pinning our hopes on a creature like that! That's exactly what Ginny did, and look where it got her!"

Angry mutters began to swell, and Neville cut them off.

"I made contact with him today," he called, and the volume died.

"You did?" Seamus asked. "How?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," Neville said, crossing his arms uncomfortably. "He wrote a message on the glass, and he responded when I wrote him back."

"Wait, explain that?" Padma said, stepping forward. "I was in that class too, and I didn't see a thing, certainly not you and Potter passing notes!"

"It wasn't written properly," Neville said defensively. "He just traced the letters on the glass when he was looking at me, and I did the same on my leg."

"Spelling what, exactly?" Padma demanded.

Neville cleared his throat. "Hi."

This hadn't been what anyone was expecting, judging by the silence in the room.

"I know that's not anything useful," Neville made himself say. "But he was making steady eye contact when he did it, and he understood when I did it back. That's why he made that happy sound the professor commented on, not the octopus. The point is, it proves he's still Harry. Whatever the Prophet is saying, and whatever Professor Braeburn said at the start of class, it isn't all true. He's not some mindless beast like they want us to believe."

"You're sure this isn't just wishful thinking?" Michael Corner asked skeptically.

"I swear it's not," Neville said as firmly as he could manage.

Finally, skepticism and disbelief changed to cautious wondering. Quiet murmurs filled the room, wondering what it could mean.

"Ginny has to be our priority right now," Dean said loudly.

"Harry might know something, though," Colin said. "Seen something!"

"Or been told something, if Professor Braeburn really believes he's dumb," Terry Boot added.

"Even if he doesn't, Harry can't speak English now," Parvati pointed out. "Which means anything he knows he can't tell us."

"He could tell us if we were underwater," Neville said.

"Are you crazy?" Ernie said. "You want to go swimming with a siren, Longbottom? I don't care if it's Potter, that's still asking to die!"

And they were shouting again.

Neville groaned and rubbed his forehead, letting the arguments carry on, washing over him in a wordless tsunami of sound.

"Shut. Up!" Susan shouted above it all. "Stuff it, all of you! You especially, Ernie!"

The protests continued, partly quieted, but still loud enough that it wasn't productive.

"This isn't helping!" Neville shouted.

Finally, the noise died.

"Thank you," Neville said, feeling exhausted already. "Again, no one is going to do anything they don't want to. I think that Colin has a valid point, and we should try to contact Harry to find out if he knows anything about Ginny, especially since she was trying to see him when she was taken. Besides that, we also know that Harry was doing something to try to take down You-Know-Who, and if he's been captured, we need to find out what he was up to and where Hermione and Ron are so someone can continue the fight."

Some still looked skeptical, or disgruntled, but no one argued with him.

"Right then," Neville said, trying to make his thoughts fall in order despite the anxiety and irritation and exhaustion still clouding his brain. "Prefects, try to use whatever patrol time you can to search for signs of where Ginny is. Dennis is going to try to tap into the Slytherin gossip. If anyone else has friends in Slytherin, you could try to do the same - be subtle about it though. And if anyone else hears anything, signal a meeting using the coins and we'll make a plan. And in the meantime, I and anyone who wants to help will try to find a way to make contact with Harry."

"I'll help," Colin said.

"Me too," Demelza said.

"Me as well," Susan said.

"Great. Now let's get to dinner. Leave in small groups a few minutes apart, and don't take a direct route to the Great Hall, just like always. Thanks, everyone."

The meeting splintered apart. A line of small clumps of people quickly formed in front of the exit as people waited their turn to leave. Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein had assumed the roles of door monitors, keeping an eye on their pocket watches and signaling the next group of students when it was reasonable for them to leave, ensuring the leaving groups were staggered.

Neville hung back, watching them all go, and hoped that he wasn't putting anyone in danger.

Susan came up to Neville; Demelza and Colin trailing behind.

"May as well strategize while we wait to get out," she said.

Neville nodded, and their group shifted to the back of the line. With how many people had come, it would likely take twenty minutes before they were all out.

"I haven't seen any entrances to the tank beside the room we had Care of Magical Creatures in today," Neville said.

"I doubt there are others," Susan said. "The tank doesn't show any signs from this side of it of having any other tunnels or hatches, and having only one way in and out makes sense for a prison cell."

"So we just have to get into a classroom?" Demelza asked. "That sounds easy."

"Pretty sure it's locked when it isn't in use," Susan said. "They don't want people talking to him."

"Okay, so we need to break into a classroom," Demelza said. "That still doesn't sound too hard. We know where it is. Or, you both do."

"They'd be really dumb if the only thing they'd put on the door was a locking charm," Colin put in. "I doubt it'll be alohomora and done."

Dumbledore had thought a locking spell would be enough to keep a school full of children from stumbling onto the Cerberus back in first year, but Gran had always said that the Headmaster had a few screws loose. Neville doubted Voldemort and Snape would be so careless with the security of their famous prisoner.

"If it's a runic lock, I can bring in Justin," Susan said. "He's good with them."

"We'll need to go get a look at it," Neville said. "I'm just worried it's going to be keyed to the Professor's wand or blood."

The others' expressions darkened at that possibility.

"Like you said, we should do some recon," Demelza said.

"And pray we don't have to kidnap our Professor," Colin added.

"I'll go take a look during dinner," Susan said. "Professor Braeburn is almost always in the Great Hall for meals, and the halls will be quiet. I can grab something to eat in the kitchens on my way back to the common room after."

"Be careful," Neville felt obligated to say.

"I will," Susan promised. "Partner with me in Herbology tomorrow and I'll pass on anything I learned."

Neville nodded and looked at Demelza and Colin. "And I'll fill you both in in the common room. The Great Hall is too public to talk about this stuff."

They looked slightly put out but didn't argue. Even Gryffindors had been learning some caution since the institution of the Death Eater regime at Hogwarts.

When it was finally their turn to leave the Room of Requirement, they split up without saying a word to each other.

Neville only glanced up from the pot of devil's snare he was tending in Greenhouse eight when Susan sidled up next to him, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail and her dragonhide gloves covered in potting soil. Few other students were in the N.E.W.T. herbology class, as it wasn't a common requirement for many career paths - and most students were happy to escape the humidity and dirt and bad-tempered flora if they could. Neville was the only Gryffindor. Susan was joined by fellow Hufflepuffs Justin Finch-Fletchley and Zacharias Smith (who seemed to be taking the class out of principle alone, as a claimed descendant of Helga Hufflepuff, who was rumored to have been quite a green-thumb - and he took every opportunity he had to remind the rest of them of his lineage, as if it would make the Venemous Tentacula sting him any less).

In addition, Ravenclaw contributed Mary Wilder and Steven Cornfoot; and Slytherin was represented by Daphne Greengrass and Vincent Crabbe.

Eight students meant that it was easy to overhear conversations if you weren't careful in the greenhouse, so Neville had intentionally chosen a workbench nearest the large bubotuber specimen in the corner. It was going to seed, which meant its pustules were swelling and in danger of exploding foul-smelling pus over anyone standing too close. Predictably, most of the others had chosen work areas as far away as possible, leaving Neville and Susan enough room to have a private conversation so long as they kept their voices down.

"Bad news, they weren't dumb," Susan said without preamble as she set her own devil's snare down in front of her. "Alohomora didn't work, not that I expected it to. Good news, I was able to detect runes traced into the doorway with a detection spell, and I had enough time to make a sketch of them and their layout to show Justin."

"Great," Neville breathed, gently unwinding a vine tendril from his finger and then holding it still to prune it back. "And, are we going to be planning a kidnapping?"

"Not yet," Susan said. "It's actually a similar setup to the entrance to Diagon Alley from the Leaky."

"A pattern lock?" Neville asked, surprised. "Isn't that rudimentary?"

"Yes, but it's effective," Susan said. "Unless you can find someone with mage sight, the only way to learn the pattern is by watching someone open it. And, Justin thinks that there might be a password that needs to be said at the same time."

"Okay," Neville muttered to himself. "So, that's definitely better than dealing with a blood- or wand-keyed lock. We'll have to shadow Professor Braeburn and watch him open it."

"Problem, we don't know when he'll be there," Susan said. "It's not the normal Care classroom, so it's not like he'll be up there all the time."

Neville bit his lip, his shears making a gentle snip sound as he carefully trimmed away the dullest vines on his plant.

"The research program," Neville said. "He said it's usually on Saturdays. That's tomorrow."

"We don't know what time," Susan said. "We could take it in shifts, stake it out."

"I don't have any other ideas," Neville agreed. "There aren't any hiding places in that hall, though. Do you know the disillusionment charm?"

Susan nodded shortly. "My aunt taught me."

"My Gran taught me as well," Neville said, relieved. "I'm not the best at it, but if I stay still it's enough. I doubt Colin and Demelza know it, though."

"If we arrange our shifts so they each take over from us, we can cast it on them before we leave," Susan suggested.

Neville nodded.

"I wish we could do something sooner," Susan murmured. "Do you think we have until tomorrow?"

Neville bit his lip worriedly, and set aside his shears so he could start applying the specialized liquid rotted-meat fertilizer that devil's snares liked so much. The stuff stunk almost as bad as bubotuber pus, and Neville put a clothespin over his nose before he opened the bottle. Susan hurried to do the same.

"I don't know if it's something we can help," Neville admitted.

"I think I'll go up and keep an eye out during my free period this afternoon," Susan said. "Maybe I'll get lucky and catch Braeburn early."

"My free periods on Friday I spend helping Professor Sprout with the O.W.L. students," Neville said, regretting, for once, the amount of time he'd volunteered for the one subject he excelled in. "I could watch for a couple of hours after dinner, though, before I have Astronomy."

"That's okay," Susan said. "I'm free tonight, so I'll watch, and you can take the first watch shift tomorrow. But, if you get a chance, see if you can teach Robins and Creevey the disillusionment spell. Maybe they'll pick it up and be able to operate independently as well, if we don't figure this out by the end of tomorrow."

Neville nodded, relieved that he could be of some use. "I'll do that. They'll probably get it faster than I did."

Susan shot him a smile. "Don't sell yourself so short, Longbottom. I know for a fact you can cast a patronus."

Neville immediately felt a blush warm his cheeks. "Oh. Um…" Well done, very eloquent. "So can you."

"Just a shield form," Susan said. She shot Neville a glance. "My aunt was shocked just from that much, and practically fainted when I told her several students had managed corporeal ones. You included."

Neville's blush deepened. He didn't know what to say to the compliment, especially one that felt so undeserved; but was also, technically, true. It didn't feel right that Neville was better at something defense-related than Susan, niece of the respected Amelia Bones, and a powerful witch in her own right. Neville still had a reputation for being a step above a squib, after all. He wasn't anywhere near the same caliber of wizard that Harry had been, or Ginny, or Susan. He was just Neville. Awkward, clumsy, only-good-with-plants Neville.

He'd also, somehow, survived the battle of the Ministry back in fifth year.

He still thought of it as some kind of miracle, though - a stroke of supreme luck. He wasn't cut out for such things.

Susan didn't push, thankfully, and let him get away with his awkward silence. She bent back over her devil's snare, and he did the same, content to spend the rest of the practical in silence.

That night, neither Demelza nor Colin was able to successfully do more than make themselves shimmer with the disillusionment charm, but Neville encouraged them to keep practicing. It was difficult magic, usually only taught to Auror trainees, and it had taken Neville half the summer to be able to cast it with any level of usefulness.

In the morning, Neville woke up early and got himself ready for his watch shift. He wore his casual clothes and applied silencing charms to his shoes, then grabbed X Times Five: The Most Beautifully Lethal Creatures Known to Wizardkind and The Oceanic Wilds so he could work on his homework and have a ready-made excuse should he be discovered lurking. He could always claim he'd wanted to see Professor Braeburn; after all, Neville honestly had no idea where the Care of Magical Creatures Professor's office was actually located. He didn't know that Hagrid had even had one.

The room where they'd seen Harry was located at the top of the castle, on the eighth floor. The main staircases only went up to the seventh, so Neville found one of the narrow, out-of-the-way staircases tucked in a dark side hall and climbed up. Before he reached the top, he tapped the top of his head with his wand and felt the trickle of magic drip over his body, camouflaging him. Before their class the other day, Neville had never had a reason to even go to the eighth floor – hadn't even realized that there was one. The lack of main access made Neville think it had once been meant as servants' quarters or storage space. The halls up here were also narrower, with almost no ornamentation, and a simple layout. The simplicity made finding somewhere out-of-the-way to watch almost impossible, so Neville set himself up in the nearest perpendicular hallway, angled so he could watch the classroom's door.

At first, he stayed alert, eyes roving up and down the hall, ears peeled for the sound of footsteps. After half an hour of nothing, though, Neville had to admit he was going to wear himself out staying like that for four hours and cracked open X Times Five. He still flicked his eyes up every minute or so, anxious that he'd somehow miss the sound of footsteps.

Breakfast had begun and finished by the time Neville heard anything. He closed his textbook and shrunk it wordlessly to put it in his pocket, and for good measure reapplied his disillusionment charm with a whispered incantation. He pressed his back against his hall's wall and waited as the footsteps grew louder, along with voices.

"-really don't understand why this is necessary," Professor Braeburn said.

"And that's why you'll never amount to anything, Artemius."

Neville's breath froze. That was Amycus Carrow.

"The siren is in my care," Braeburn argued, and the voices grew even louder as the pair entered the hall Neville's joined to. "And it will hinder my research to hurt the creature needlessly."

"It isn't needless if it makes the girl rat out her accomplices."

"… Surely, veritaserum would be more humane," Professor Braeburn said nervously.

"Snape says he has no stock left after all the interrogations trying to find her," Carrow grumbled. The excuse gave Neville a strange sense of deja vu, but he ignored it in favor of pressing himself up against the wall as the pair of Professors passed, entirely oblivious to his presence.

"Then, there must be others who would suit your purpose?" Braeburn asked, and Neville felt his lip curl in slight disgust.

"The blood-traitor girl is in love with the beast," Carrow sneered. "He's the only one she cares more about than her precious friends, even if he is no longer a wizard."

Braeburn sighed and turned to face Carrow just outside the classroom door. "If you absolutely must do this, it will be easier to bring the girl up here rather than transport the siren down to the dungeons. And I insist on being present to ensure my specimen is not endangered."

Carrow waved his hand dismissively. "Have it your way, Artemius, I don't care. I'll bring her up after your precious little study group is over so we don't have to fish the beast up twice."

"It's not a study group, I'm just going to be - "

"Do I look like I care?" Carrow interrupted. "Let's just get on with this."

Braeburn had a sour look on his face as he turned to the door, withdrawing his wand.

"Doe me ray," Braeburn said, voice lilting oddly, as he tapped three points on the wooden door. The door clicked open, and both professors vanished inside.

Neville's heart pounded as he crept from his hiding place and to the door. He stayed to the side so that if either man came out, they wouldn't run straight into Neville. He tried to ignore his sweating palms and frantically running thoughts as he examined the door at the spots Professor Braeburn had tapped.

Doe me ray, he'd said. What did that mean?

The door was unique, Neville realized. Most classroom doors were constructed of wooden beams arranged vertically, but this one's beams were stacked in horizontal lines. There was a particularly wide one about halfway down the door, with the rest just a fraction of the biggest's width. If Neville only looked at the lines formed by the joins, it almost looked like a musical staff, with the bass clef on the bottom and the treble clef on the top.

Not 'doe me ray,' Neville realized. Do mi re. As in do re mi, the musical notes. The password and the matching pattern were just music notes!

Sure enough, when Neville whispered the notes to himself and traced the pattern the notes would have made on the door if it were a piece of sheet music, they matched up with what Braeburn had done. He'd done it!

The next time he saw his cello instructor, he'd give her the biggest hug ever.

But right now, he needed to find whoever was available from the DA and organize a rescue. If Ginny was being moved through the halls, it could be their only opportunity to get her out… hopefully before Carrow tortured Harry to make Ginny talk.

They probably had only an hour or so.

Neville ran.