Becoming Neville

They left the next day right after breakfast. When they arrived at the Burrow, Ron and Ginny were awaiting them with such poorly-concealed anticipation that Neville thought for sure Mrs. Weasley would know something was up. They all but pounced on Remus when he stepped through the fireplace.

"Ron, Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley scolded as they clamored for Remus's attention. "You'll knock Mr. Lupin over!" She smiled a greeting at him. "It's very good of you to bring the boys here. Bill and the twins will be joining us for dinner this evening. They are so looking forward to seeing you."

"That will be lovely," Remus politely replied.

Would you care for some tea?"

"Mum!" protested Ron. "He's going with us. We have to show him around. He's never been to the Burrow before."

"Yes," Ginny added. "We have to show him the wood out back."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "He doesn't want to be dragged around in the brambles."

"That's quite all right, Molly," Remus said. "Let them show me around, and then I'll come back to the house and we'll have that tea."

Having successfully eluded Mrs. Weasley, they all dragged Remus out into the summer sun, leading him past the pond and into the wilderness behind the house.

"I really *would* like to see your house," Remus said as they entered the trees.

"You'll see it later," Ron dismissed. "We need to get this done quickly before Mum thinks we've lost you and comes out looking for us."

They followed a narrow path through the undergrowth until they came to a small clearing amid the trees. The leafy canopy shaded them from the sun, and several logs were arranged on the ground for benches.

"This place is terrific!" Neville exclaimed as Ginny and Harry took a seat on the logs.

"We call it the fort," Ginny explained. "It's a Weasley tradition. Mum's allergic to nettles, so she never comes out here."

"Sometimes we camp out here in the summer," Ron said, reaching into a hollow tree trunk and fishing around for something. "Fred and George tried to build a treehouse once, but the first time Charlie climbed into it, it fell down."

Ginny pointed up into a nearby tree, and Neville spied old planks sticking out among the branches.

"I wouldn't trust anything they built, anyway," he commented.

"I bet you have a lot of fun here," Remus said.

"Oh yes," Ginny answered. "And it's great for hiding stuff from Mum." She turned to her brother. "Is that what you're looking for in that tree, Ron? Percy's old nudie magazines?"

Ron blushed scarlet, his arm buried deeply in the tree's innards. "Ginny!" he squeaked, glancing nervously in Remus's direction.

Remus smirked. "Don't worry, Ron. I won't tell."

"What are you looking for, then?" asked Ginny.

At last Ron pulled a large tin out of the tree. "This! Anyone care for a biscuit?" He opened the tin and held it out toward Harry.

Harry peered into the tin and smirked. "I don't think those are biscuits."

"What?" Ron tilted the tin to look inside at what appeared to be several dried toads. "Bloody hell!" he yelped. "Fred and George never replace the biscuits! I'm gonna kill them!"

"I don't think I'd want to eat any biscuits that have been in a tin with dead toads," Harry said.

Forlorn that his attempt to play host wasn't going too well, Ron said, "There might be some old bottles of butterbeer around here. That is, if Fred and George haven't drunk it already and refilled the bottles with elf piss or something."

Neville turned green at that, and Harry swallowed hard before saying, "That's quite all right, Ron."

"Perhaps we'd best get down to the business at hand," suggested Remus. "Especially if your mother might come looking for us."

Ron grew pale, his freckles standing out sharply across his nose. "Umm. No offense, professor, but do you really know what you're doing?"

"I have quite a bit of experience with this kind of thing," Remus assured him. "Most importantly, I know when to stop if it's not going well."

From the look on Ron's face, this failed to inspire confidence in him. He glanced at Neville. "Well, if it helps your parents, mate, then it's worth a try."

Neville could feel himself blushing, and he lowered his eyes. It was strange to have his friends risk such nastiness on his behalf.

Ron sank to the ground in front of Remus, sitting cross-legged. He took a couple of fortifying breaths and said, "Okay. I'm ready."

"If this goes right, you won't even remember what happens."

Ron nodded as Remus drew his wand out of his sleeve and held in front of Ron, waving it in an elaborate pattern while speaking softly to Ron. At first Neville watched the wand, too, but he started feeling dizzy, the magic pulling on him with an uncomfortable force. He blinked his eyes and shook his head to clear it, then looked around. Next to him, Harry swayed slightly in time with the moving wand, and Neville dug his elbow into Harry's ribs. Harry blinked and looked at him, breaking away from the spell. Without a word, they turned back and looked at Ron instead of the wand.

Ron's jaw hung slightly open, and his eyes were glazed. In fact, his expression looked awfully familiar. Neville had often seen Ron looking like this in Divination.

Remus's voice cut through the stupor that had settled over them all. "I'd like to speak to Dr. Hackenbush."

For a long moment, Ron remained motionless. His eyes stayed glazed, and when he finally spoke, his voice was thin and stretched out, as if coming from very far away. "Who are you, then? Not one of those beastly dementors, I hope?"

"No. My name is Remus Lupin."

"Thank God. I hate those dementors. The last thing I remember is those horrid creatures circling around me...."

Neville couldn't suppress a shudder. Ron's voice sounded so strange, so clearly not his own. This was even more disturbing than when he, Harry and Remus were possessed by spirits in the banishment charm. Remus talking to Ron was like talking to a resuscitated corpse. Neville looked across the circle to Ginny. She leaned close to her brother, her knee touching his. Her lips were pressed together in a worried frown, and her shoulders were tense, as if she were prepared to spring into action at the slightest provocation.

"There are no dementors here," Remus was saying, "and you don't have to remember them. Instead, I'd like for you to remember back further. I want to hear about your research on Cruciatus."

"Ah, yes," answered the wispy voice. "My life's work. Should have won awards, but they locked me up instead. Said I was mad. Mad! Could a madman do what I did?"

Neville thought of Voldemort. It seemed to him that a madman could do many brilliant things that were still evil.

"I'd like to hear about your work," Remus was saying. "I want to know what you learned."

Ron was silent for a moment. "It's all so faint now. I can't remember it well. Have I forgotten it?"

"Of course not," Remus assured him. "It's all still there. I want you to go back and find a specific memory, a time when you learned something very significant. Then it will come back to you."

While Ron stared unblinkingly into Hackenbush's memories, Remus quietly said to Neville, "Get ready to write down anything of value that he says."

Neville hastily dove into his bookbag and pulled out a scroll and quill and ink. He settled the scroll across his knees, prepared to take notes. His hands shook so badly, he hoped his handwriting would be legible.

"I remember it, I remember it!" cried Ron/Hackenbush. "Late June, 1977. We were working with a most promising subject. Otis is preparing the subject for testing right now."

At the name, Neville's hand shook so hard, he scratched a line across the scroll. "Otis? Dr. Driftwood?"

Remus looked at Ron. "Do you mean Otis Driftwood?"

"Yes, yes. A fine student. Very promising indeed. Be sure to bind her tightly, Otis! We don't want her breaking loose."

A shudder ran through the circle. "What are you preparing to do?" asked Remus.

"This subject has been most excellent. We've learned so much working with her. Amazing stamina! Of course, werewolves always last long, but she is exceptional. She hasn't burned out yet."

Remus paled. He paused a moment to collect himself. "And what have you learned from your - experiments?"

"Otis, let's try it with the belladonna extract. Five milliliters. She can certainly withstand that."

Remus looked at Neville. "Did you get that?"

"Yes," Neville said, hastily scribbling away. "I'm not sure if I spelled it right, though."

"That's all right." Remus looked back at Ron. "Five milliliters. Is that a lot?"

"My goodness, young man, are you so ignorant? Two milliliters would destroy the brain of a normal human. Even five milliliters is more than a werewolf could bear under ordinary conditions. But watch what happens." Ron's hand rose slightly from where it rested on his knee, pointing his forefinger. "Crucio."

All of them flinched reflexively. The power of the word alone shot through Neville's gut, tying his intestines in knots. His whole body broke out in a cold sweat, and he shivered.

He felt a warm hand on his back, and he looked up to see Harry looking at him in concern. "It's all right," Harry said. Neville forced himself to take a deep breath, but he pressed so tightly on his quill that the tip punctured the scroll.

"Listen to her screams, even through the gag," Ron/Hackenbush continued. "I'd cast a silencing charm on her, but I don't want any interference from other spells."

"What are you learning from these experiments?" Remus broke in before he could continue. His voice was steady, but his fists were clenched tightly against his knees. "Why are you doing this?"

"Ah, it's fascinating. We have discovered that Cruciatus actually alters one's brain waves. Basically, the brain is rewired. The effect is temporary after only a brief exposure. On the other hand, a single prolonged exposure to Cruciatus for an hour or more fries the brain completely, and the subject dies. Of course, that would be a tremendous expenditure of magical energy, very draining on the spellcaster. Not an effective way to kill someone at all."

A few seconds passed before Remus spoke again. He seemed to be at a loss for words. "How-how do you know it kills people after an hour?" he at last asked.

"Well, I'm not referring to normal humans, of course. I couldn't possibly conduct such an experiment; it would be unethical. My results are with werewolf subjects. No one misses a dead werewolf."

Remus sat perfectly still, unblinking. He didn't even appear to be breathing. The others looked worriedly at him, but before any of them worked up the courage to say anything, Remus took a deep breath and resumed his questioning, his voice calm but deadly quiet. "What are you learning from this experiment?"

"As I said, Cruciatus alters the way the brain functions," continued Hackenbush's voice. "We have found that shorter bouts of Cruciatus over a longer period of time will have more lasting effects on the brain. However, high doses of hallucinogens like belladonna can counter the effects. Like our subject here. We will cast five two-minute sessions of Cruciatus over a thirty-minute period. Subjects would normally feel the effects for a week, but she will recover in a day. Astonishing, isn't it?"

"Indeed," was Remus's faint reply.

"Yet mediwizards have always prescribed soporifics like henbane for victims of Cruciatus. Quite the wrong approach entirely."

"Henbane?" Neville gasped. "That's what Driftwood gives to my parents."

Remus's eyes widened, and he turned back to Ron/Hackenbush. "What effect does henbane have?"

"It is supposed to be calming," he answered. "Makes sense, of course. It's always prescribed for troubled minds. But when those minds have been disturbed by Cruciatus, henbane actually keeps the brain from recovering. My funders have been particularly interested in that discovery."

"And who are your funders?"

"The Asclepius Howard Fund for Medical Research. A very prestigious foundation."

"They fund Driftwood, too!" Neville exclaimed. "Hermione told us. They have lots of Death Eater money."

Remus nodded. "Did you write down what he said?"

"Yeah. I think I got it all. Henbane is bad. Belladonna is good."

"All right." Remus glanced back at Ron, still deep in the trance. "I'm going to end this. Hopefully you have enough information to help your parents." Neville, Harry, and Ginny all nodded, eager to be rid of Hackenbush.

Remus released Hackenbush's memories back into Ron's subconscious, then talked Ron out of the trance. Suddenly Ron blinked and looked around at the group.

"So it didn't work, then?" he asked. "Sorry about that, Neville."

"It did work, Ron," Ginny answered. "Remus has been talking to Hackenbush for ages."

"Really? But - but it didn't feel like any time at all. Did you get anything good?"

"Oh, yes," said Remus, his lips pressed into a grim line.

A relived smile plastered itself on Ron's face. "Well, you were loads better at it than Fred and George."

Suddenly Ginny threw her arms around Ron's neck, hugging him tightly.

Embarrassed, he yelped in protest. "What's this for?"

Her voice muffled against his shoulder, she said, "I'll be glad when that horrid man is out of your brain."

"He was that bad, eh?" He patted her on the back. "Then I'm glad I don't remember it."