The Man of the Moment

Author's Notes: Thank you for your patience and for still reading this despite my tardiness and teething troubles in getting recent chapters up- I promise you that the first draft of this is finished; all I am waiting to do is receive chapters back from my beta-reader so I can amend them and put them up.

Thanks also go to my ace beta-reader, Rose Black, for beta-ing above and beyond the call of duty.

Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty: Secrets and Lies

Harry continued to stare, slack jawed, at Neville, whose face had changed from being pale with fright, to red with anger. He tapped his foot against the floor, and Harry was sure he could see a vein bulging uncomfortably in Neville's left temple.

"Well?" Neville prompted, his voice uncertain whether it wanted to adopt a tone of inquisitiveness, upset, or sheer rage, so instead it seemed to settle for an ugly mix of all three. Harry found himself suddenly feeling rather ashamed.

"Erm... Hi, Neville," he managed to force his uncooperative vocal cords to splutter. Neville looked singularly unimpressed.

"Don't you, 'Hi, Neville', me! What's going on?" he demanded hotly.

Hermione jumped up out of her seat, wringing her hands slightly.

"Neville, why don't you sit down?" she offered, gently guiding his towards a nearby chair by placing her hand on his back. Neville shook her off.

"Don't, Hermione; just don't," he said, crossly. "I can't believe that after everything that has happened, you've kept this from me?" He whirled around to face Harry once more. "I mean, this affects me, it actually affects me! You've told Ron, Hermione and Ginny, clearly- and it's got nothing to do with them! Who else knows, hmm?" he snapped. "Seamus? Dean? Half the school?"

"Look, mate, it's not like that," Ron replied, in an obvious effort to placate the furious Neville.

"None of the other students know," Harry said, finally. "No students except us in this room." He sighed heavily, expelling a lungful of air. "Dumbledore seemed to think there was no doubt it... I mean, the prophecy thing you heard me... it referred to me..."

Neville laughed harshly- something Harry had never heard him do in the seven years he had known him at Hogwarts. He clapped his hands as though applauding Harry's words.

"Well," he said, "that makes it alright, doesn't it?" He laughed again. "Never mind the fact that you know what happened to my parents, when I didn't ask for you to be told!"

"Neville, please," Hermione begged, in an attempt to placate Neville once more. He ignored her, and instead concentrated on Harry.

"Never mind the fact that you knew my parents had been sent mad"- Harry flinched as Neville spat the word out- "because of Voldemort- and you still didn't think I might want to know why?"

"Dumbledore said..."

"I don't care what Dumbledore said!" Neville yelled. "You knew why Voldemort went after my parents- you knew it was because of you, and me; but you didn't have the guts to even tell me!"

"I didn't know that was why, and I didn't have a choice!" Harry shouted back, at which Neville walked up to face Harry until they were only inches apart.

"I hope you get a bit more backbone for when Voldemort finally catches up with you," he hissed, before storming out of the Common Room, slamming the portrait of the Fat Lady out of the way before she even had a chance to let him past.

"Oi, watch it; I've just had my hair restored!" she called after him, adjusting her hair as she did so.

Ron sighed, and flopped into a nearby chair.

"That went well," he commented, his voice laced heavily with sarcasm. Hermione sighed heavily.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, her voice trembling as though she were close to tears. "Poor Neville!"

"I don't know," Harry said, slumping onto the floor. He hugged his knees close to his chin and closed his eyes, as though trying to block out the whole event. Neville's reaction had stunned him somewhat- he knew that Neville had every right to be angry, but somehow, Harry had never thought he could possibly get as furious as he did. He considered going after him, to try and reason with him and clear the air, but he got the distinct impression from Neville's demeanour before he left the room that it would merely end in a punch-up- and knowing how determined Neville could get when he was fired up, Harry didn't much fancy being on the receiving end.

"He's got a point- if I daren't face up to Neville, how in Merlin's name am I going to cope with Voldemort again?" Harry thought. Hermione knelt down next to him and placed her hand on his knee.

"Just give him a bit of time," she urged. "It's a lot to take on board- I'm sure you can testify to that."

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry replied, as he realised, not without embarrassment, that he had been thinking aloud.

"What about the Order?" Ginny asked. "You've got to tell them Neville knows about all this- it could make him a target."

"Ginny's right," Hermione added. "If Voldemort ever finds out that Neville knows something about all this, he'll be in serious trouble. Also, let's not forget that the Order need to know everything they can about anything that goes on relating to Voldemort, if they're going to get past this most recent attack."

Ron propped himself up against the wall, arms folded, and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Lupin's probably your best bet," he said sagely. "He won't go off on one about you spilling to Neville."

"Probably because he's too ill," Ginny commented darkly.

Harry sighed. He knew that out of all the members of the Order, and the Brethren, come to think of it, Lupin was the one he'd most rather admit this particular slip of the tongue to, behind Persephone. Lupin would be disappointed, and say as much, whereas Persephone would be a lot more blasé about the whole affair- she'd much rather concentrate on a solution, than apportion blame. However, the very idea of having to explain Neville's sudden knowledge of one of the most important prophecies in this Wizarding war to someone like Moody, or- and Harry shuddered at the thought- Alex or McGonagall was far too hideous to put into practise.

Bolstered by the company of Ron, Hermione and Ginny, Harry took a deep breath and entered the Hospital Wing in an effort to talk to Lupin in private. Soon enough, Harry noticed that his objective might prove rather difficult, as Faith Hamilton was perched on a chair next to Lupin's bed, armed with a clipboard. She was staring at him with great interest, as though he were taking part in a pioneering medical treatment trial. On closer examination of the nearby empty goblet on Lupin's bedside table, Harry assumed he hadn't been far off in his estimation.

"Well, do you feel any different?" Faith asked, jabbing at Lupin's thin arms with her quill. "Have you experienced any sudden anomalous neurological sensations- any hallucinations? Any enhancement or suppression of the senses?" she continued, chewing on the end of her quill before twirling it between her fingers.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Faith was behaving in what could loosely be termed a normal manner. For once, she actually seemed like the twenty three year old woman she was; concentrating intently on her work, and asking probing questions to gauge her patient's response to that particular potion as though she had been doing it for years. In fact, he was so stunned by Faith's change in demeanour that he forgot to even say hello until Lupin spotted him and smiled.

"Good evening," he said cheerfully. "Miss Hamilton seems to think we might have a potion that will combat the effects of the one Voldemort decided to administer to me," he explained. Faith swatted at his arm and glared at him as though he were a small child caught jumping in puddles without wearing Wellingtons.

"Remus, do pay attention, or I'll have to make your friends wait outside," she chastised. Harry fought hard to suppress a snigger at her prudish behaviour, whilst she made various notes on her clipboard. Lupin merely smiled once more and glanced at his watch.

"Well, I suppose we'll know for certain in a short while," he commented. "It'll be sunset then."

Harry took a deep breath, and decided that there was no time like the present for sharing the bad news.

"Erm, Remus," he said, trying hard to quell the nervousness that he felt sure would engulf his vocal cords at any moment. Lupin looked up at him in a genial fashion.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked calmly. Harry sighed- clearly, Lupin had no idea what confession Harry was about to impart to him, and he felt guilty for being the one to invariably ruin his good mood. Still, the truth had to be told, but how? A revelation such as this takes careful, sensitive handling, in order to arouse the least panic and smooth things over as much as possible...

"Neville knows about the prophecy," he said quickly. Lupin looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Which one?" he asked eventually.

"Erm, the one that kind of mentions him as being one of two people who could possibly have had the power to..." The rest of Harry's response was drowned out by a low-pitched groan that emanated from deep within the pit of Lupin's diaphragm.

"Remus!" Faith chastised, "stop that, I'm trying to check your pulse and blood pressure- it's going through the roof, but I can't tell whether it's because you're about to become a werewolf again, or it's because Harry is demonstrating how dim he is."

"Oi!" Harry retorted, but Faith looked at him, and raised her eyebrows in a most querulous manner.

"You're the one being a silly billy," she hissed. "It's supposed to be a secret! You don't tell secrets- that's bad!"

"It was only Neville," Harry protested, but this merely caused Faith to wag her finger at him.

"That's what they all say, 'Oh, it was only one person!' But, that's all it takes. I remember when Angelina Duchene told Dominique Belmont about her seeing Miranda and Pierre together down in the Quidditch Changing Rooms after midnight, and the whole school knew within the week!" she explained, the vestiges of womanhood lost completely to her child-like behaviour once more.

Lupin rubbed at his temples with his fingers, before looking at Harry once more.

"How did it happen?" he asked quietly. Harry sighed, and sat down next to Lupin's bed.

"Well, I was sort of angry about everything that had happened- you know, about the Ministry buildings..." He trailed off, as Lupin nodded sadly.

"Yes, I understand," he added. Harry nodded.

"Yeah- and it just kind of all came out... I know it's not Neville's fault at all, but I just felt... why me? Why not him?"

Lupin nodded.

"And he heard you?" he asked. Harry nodded, trying his best not to look Lupin in the eye and instead concentrate on the scuff marking his left shoe.

"Yeah, he heard everything," Harry replied. Lupin sighed, and patted Harry gently on the back.

"How did Neville react?" he asked kindly.

"Not terribly well," Hermione interjected.

"Yeah, unless you count completely going off on one before storming out of the Gryffindor Common Room as 'well'," Ron added.

"You need to speak to him, Harry," Lupin advised. "However Neville took it, he's just had an awful shock."

"And say what?" Harry asked. "Isn't this all supposed to be a secret?"

"Well, you put paid to that, mister," Faith commented acerbically, before prodding Lupin with another bizarre instrument, whilst humming to herself.

"Maybe... Maybe you should just tell him everything, and get him to visit me," Lupin suggested.

"Maybe you should consult the rest of the Order before suggesting that, Remus Lupin," Faith commented, pinching Lupin's upper arm so hard, he jumped momentarily.

At that moment, Persephone wandered into the Hospital Wing, wearing a white armband on her upper arm, and thumbing through an old book that Harry instantly recognised as the infamous 'The Original Cross'.

"Before suggesting what?" she asked. "Remus, are you up to something?" she joked, although Harry could tell her heart really wasn't in it. He knew why- news of Tonks' death had travelled through both the Order and the Brethren. With an unpleasant jolt, he realised it probably hadn't travelled as far as Hogwarts' Hospital Wing, and that Lupin most likely didn't know.

Hermione had clearly spotted the book Persephone was studying, for she asked, "Persephone, why are you reading that in the school? I thought you said I couldn't even glance at it in Hogwarts?" before even saying hello.

Persephone surveyed Hermione for a moment, whilst holding the book open at the halfway point.

"Hermione, do you recall that Muggle saying, 'One law for them, another for the rest of us'?" she asked. Hermione nodded in reply, at which Persephone smiled.

"Well, this is me practising it," she replied blithely, before shutting the book with a snap and looking across at where Lupin was being poked and prodded by Faith.

"Persephone," she stated, as though speaking to a small child, "we're busy conducting an important study at the moment; do try not to disturb us."

"I'll try not to, Faith," Persephone said, clearly humouring her. "However, I have got some news to share with Remus."

Lupin sat up a little straighter on his bed.

"Is it good news?" he asked hopefully, but one look at Persephone's face made it clear how very wrong he was.

"The Ministry has been attacked, Azkaban has been broken into- all the prisoners have escaped, save for Ameline, who's been killed..."

"I am sorry," Lupin said soothingly. Persephone looked up at him.

"Oh, that's not the worst of it," she said darkly, before taking in a deep breath. Harry knew what was coming, because he had seen in through the two-way mirror of Sirius' that Hermione had managed to turn into a spying device. He knew Persephone was about to impart the dreadful news about Tonks, and the look on Lupin's face when she finally said the words was all Harry needed to see to gauge how heartbroken Lupin was.

"She was so young," he said quietly. Persephone nodded.

"I know," she said, which prompted Harry to think that yes, she was, considering her and Persephone were- or rather, had been- the same age.

Faith looked up from her clipboard suddenly.

"The pink-haired girl is dead?" she asked, in a voice that mixed two seemingly unmixable emotions of curiosity and mournfulness. Persephone nodded.

"I'm afraid so," she said. Faith pouted in sadness for a moment.

"I liked her- she was funny," she said, before going back to her clipboard, apparently unable to fully comprehend Tonks' death. Despite her complete insanity, Harry could understand this- he was having difficulty accepting it, too. He half-expected her to walk through the doors and tease Persephone about acting soft.

"Have her parents been told?" Lupin asked. Persephone nodded.

"Yeah, Hestia went round earlier. They'll let us know about the funeral arrangements once they've contacted the Auror Medical Department. They've got the preliminary policy details, and presumably all the items required for the Reading will be there... Sorry," she said suddenly, "do you mind if we don't do this? I don't think I'm quite ready..."

"Of course; I'm sorry," Lupin said hastily. Persephone's countenance clouded over with a dark, half-buried fury.

"I've seen too much death today," she muttered, under her breath; but Harry heard every word all too clearly.

Persephone walked over to the nearby window, surreptitiously wiping away a tear Harry knew she didn't think he had seen, and peeped through the curtains. Harry thought he saw a small smile flash across her features, but Persephone turning around distracted his thoughts.

"There's something else you should know, Remus," she said softly. Lupin sighed heavily.

"What else?" he asked. "I'm not sure I can cope with much more today. Go on," he added, as appeared to be bracing himself for more bad news.

"It's night time," Persephone said, simply. Lupin looked puzzled for a moment, before he broke into a huge grin, as though all of his Christmases had come at once.

"Really?" he asked, in a croaky voice. Persephone pushed the curtain open, allowing the light from the crescent moon to flood in, streaking the stone floors in a ghostly white shimmer.

"See for yourself," she replied, as Lupin got up to take a closer look. His shocked features suggested to Harry that he couldn't quite believe his nightly transformations had finally returned to being just monthly.

"Thank Merlin," Lupin muttered under his breath. Harry felt an urge to go up to him, and so made his way over to the window Lupin was now looking wistfully out of.

"So, at least something good has come out of today," Hermione said, in as cheerful a voice as she could muster. Lupin turned to face her.

"Well, good for me. I don't think somehow that it'll be of much interest to Tonks' family," he said, though his voice was kindly and resigned, not bitter, as his words would have ordinarily suggested. Harry looked down at where Lupin was resting his hands against the window ledge, and noticed for the first time how dry his hands looked. Lupin flexed his fingers, and Harry saw the skin around the joints crack slightly- a few of them began to bleed a little. He assumed that the constant transformation had placed this particular stress on Lupin's body, and that the antidote couldn't have come any sooner.

Faith clapped her hands eagerly.

"Hooray!" she chimed. "I'm so glad we've finally got it to work- it's taken years!" she moaned.

"More like weeks, Faith," Persephone commented, with a sly grin, but Faith appeared oblivious to her remarks.

"I can't wait to tell Professor Grumpy," she announced happily. "Of course, that's if he's not still busy looking at those pictures with Alex."

"Pictures?" Lupin asked, echoing Harry's own thoughts. Persephone chuckled.

"Oh, yeah- Alex and Severus went to St Mungo's for the scan," she explained, as she glanced at her watch. "In fact, I'm amazed she hasn't come to show..."

Persephone didn't have chance to finish her sentence before Alex entered the room.

"Speak of the Devil, and she appears," Persephone quipped. Alex looked puzzled.

"What are you on about?" she asked.

"We were just discussing you," Persephone pointed out. Harry looked across at Alex, and saw that she was indeed clutching what looked like a small bundle of photographs in her hand.

"Just humour her, Remus," Persephone said, patting Lupin on the back. Alex looked somewhat nonplussed.

"What? I was about to brief him on our meeting!" she protested. Lupin sighed.

"I think Persephone filled me in on enough for the moment," he replied sadly. Alex frowned.

"Really?" she asked. Persephone nodded.

"I told him about Tonks and Ameline," she replied, "as well as the Ministry and Azkaban, obviously."

"She did," Lupin replied. "I can't quite believe it. Of course, we all knew this was possible, but somehow..." He trailed off, apparently unable to say the words Harry knew everyone was thinking. Nobody in their wildest nightmares could have expected such a devastating blow in one swift, sharp movement.

"Somehow, we've got to make him pay," Persephone muttered. Alex placed her hand on Persephone's arm in a comforting manner.

"We will, Perce," she said, firmly. Persephone nodded, but was oddly silent on the subject after that. Instead, she merely smiled and gestured towards the photographs Alex clutched in her hand.

"Well, aren't you going to show everyone?" she teased. Alex looked a little embarrassed, but she soon appeared to get over this upon opening out the photographs in her hand.

"Oh, if you insist," she said, cheerfully, at which Persephone rolled her eyes.

"Any excuse," she joked, as Alex handed Lupin the first of the photographs. He stared at them for a moment, and was clearly a little baffled, until Alex took it upon herself to lean over his shoulder and point at various parts of the photo.

"See, there they are!" she demonstrated happily. "There's the boy, and there's the girl- Severus was right, after all. Mind you, I just knew- you know how you can just tell? Well, you probably don't but, anyway, there they are!"

Persephone peered curiously at her.

"Okay; who are you, and what have you done with Alex?" she demanded mockingly. Alex rolled her eyes a full three hundred and sixty degrees at her.

"I'm excited, okay! There's no need to get sarcy with me; anyway, these are your brother and sister- you should be excited too!"

"Oh, I am. I'm ecstatic, really," Persephone said, and Harry marvelled at the complete lack of enthusiasm she had managed to lace her voice with.

"Can I see?" Hermione asked. Alex beamed, and handed another photograph to her.

"Sure, sweetheart- see, there's the boy, and there's the girl," she said, pointing each out on the photograph.

Ron leant over Hermione's shoulder and put his arms around her waist, whilst craning to look at the photo.

"Blimey, he's going to be a lucky guy when he grows up," he muttered. Persephone looked at him.

"Oh, no- that's the umbilical cord," she pointed out.

"Ah," Ron replied, turning a furious shade of red; Harry assumed he hadn't meant his words to be heard by anyone else. Persephone shrugged.

"I wouldn't worry- I thought that too, when I saw them," she added comfortingly. Alex glanced sideways at her.

"You mean, when you eventually saw them," she goaded. Persephone's expression suggested she took great umbrage at this remark, for she retorted, "Hey! Those pictures are kind of grainy- anybody could have mistaken the uterine contractions for the heartbeat at a casual glance."

Hermione handed the photograph in her hand over to Harry.

"Do you want to see?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"Sure," he replied, although he was uncertain that he particularly wanted to feign enthusiasm over Snape's unborn children. As Ron had once said, they couldn't all turn out like Persephone. What if they took after their father? Worse still, what if Ron had been right in his doom and gloom interpretation of that prophecy after all, and perhaps the unborn Snape boy would turn out to betray the Order in many years to come?

"Just don't think about it," Harry sternly told himself, before he studied the photograph in his hands. He had never seen a wizarding scan before- come to think of it, he hadn't even seen a Muggle one before, although he had an idea that the wizarding scan was a little more precise. This photo he held in his hands was indeed grainy, but it also appeared to be three-dimensional, for Harry could see the image at different angles, depending on how he tilted the photograph. The image suddenly moved before his eyes, and he could clearly see two figures writhing around languidly within the confines of the photograph, nestling against what Harry presumed was the wall of Alex's womb. They looked so odd- with their tiny feet and hands contrasting against their overly large heads; they didn't quite look human, but at the same time, there was something about those two figures that seemed so real and so individual to Harry. He couldn't help but smile as he watched one of the figures stretch out its legs and kick gently against the womb, as though it were trying to find a place to settle in that sheltered place where the war- where not even Voldemort- could touch them.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Hermione whispered, in an awe-struck fashion. "They're only about five months into gestation, but they look like real little babies!"

Harry nodded. It was indeed amazing that these two tiny human forms could be so peaceful, so naïve of the horrors that awaited them when they were born into this world. Yet, at the same time, it seemed amazing to Harry that, from one moving scan, they could epitomise everything that was worth fighting for in this war.

"Right, I'm off. I'll see you all later," Persephone announced, and Harry noticed she had surreptitiously kept that book she had been engrossed in out of Alex's line of vision. Not that Alex seemed to notice, for she was still busy pointing out the finer details of her wizard scans to Lupin.

"Oh; okay, Perce- I'll catch you later," she replied. "Hopefully Augustine will have got his arse into gear and given us some kind of report."

"Yeah, hopefully," Persephone replied, somewhat sourly, before sweeping out of the Hospital Wing in a manner unnervingly similar to her father.

"Is Persephone alright?" Hermione asked, nervously. Alex sighed.

"She's just upset," she replied softly. "She's lost both Tonks and Ameline today- I think it's hit her pretty hard. The fact that we haven't heard from Augustine yet is a bit of a worry, too. That can't be helping- neither can the fact that she's lost practically her whole family to Voldemort now. Believe you me; I know what that feels like."

Harry felt his stomach knot unpleasantly. He knew what that felt like, too. So did Neville, come to think of it, seeing as he had lost his parents in mind, if not in body.

"I think I should try and find Neville," he announced. Lupin smiled kindly at him.

"Yes, I think that would be best, Harry," he replied. Alex looked perturbed.

"Why? What's happened?" she asked. Despite his regular Occlumency training with Persephone, Harry knew his facial expression must be giving away his guilty conscience, for Alex's eyes narrowed in mistrust.

"What have you done?" she demanded.

"I'd really better go and find him- I'll explain later!" Harry managed to sputter out, before he swiftly exited the Hospital Wing. However, he still heard Faith's lilting voice sing, "Harry's in trouble! Harry's in trouble!"

Ron and Hermione soon joined him along the third floor corridor.

"I think you've really done it this time- Ridley looked just about ready to kill you," Ron pointed out. Hermione slapped him hard on the arm.

"Ron, don't tell him that!" she hissed. Ron looked at her.

"Oh come on, we had to warn him, at least," he protested. Hermione nodded.

"You've got a point there, I suppose," she conceded.

"I'm more bothered about finding Neville, to be honest," Harry admitted.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head.

"I'd better go alone," he replied. He knew that whether Neville had calmed down or not, taking Ron and Hermione- two students to whom the prophecy bore no reference to, yet they knew all about it- along for the discussion would only serve to infuriate Neville further.

"Well, good luck," Hermione said.

"Yeah, good luck, mate," Ron added, as Harry made his way towards the staircase, whilst trying to think where Neville might have gone to think things over.

After searching the library, the boys' dormitory, the Gryffindor common room again, and the Great Hall, Harry finally found Neville outside by the Great Lake, skimming stones across the lake's surface, with a most surly expression etched across his features. Harry couldn't blame him; considering how Harry had reacted to hearing the prophecy for the first time- which had resulted in him vandalising Dumbledore's office in a fit of temper- Neville had handled it in a far more mature manner.

"Neville," he said, in as gentle a voice as he could muster. "It's really dark out here- shouldn't you be inside?"

Neville shrugged.

"I can see alright," he replied gruffly. Harry decided to sit next to him, and watch as Neville kept picking up small, flat stones and skimming them across the lake with a flick of his wrist. He appeared to have got quite good at it, for he was regularly making the stones bounce five of six times across the waters of the lake before they sank without trace. Eventually, he either got bored of skimming stones, or fed up with Harry watching him, for he turned around.

"Are you going to sit here all night?" he asked irritably. Harry shrugged.

"If that's what it takes," he replied. "I've got to talk to you, Neville."

"I don't have anything to say to you," he replied sourly.

"Well, that's good, because I've got loads to say to you," Harry answered, which caused Neville to laugh harshly.

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" he remarked. Harry felt his stomach knot up with anger, but he took a deep breath, and did his best to ignore it- Neville had a right to be annoyed, and this was no worse than the way Harry had reacted when he first heard the news.

"Sit down, Neville- please," Harry said, half-expecting Neville to try and push him in the lake. Instead, Neville surveyed him coolly for a moment, before eventually sitting down on the bank of the lake.

"Alright," he said, arms folded. "This had better be good, though."

Harry sighed.

"I'm not sure 'good' is the right word for it..." He took a deep breath, and began to explain the prophecy- that first one Professor Trelawney had made all those years ago, that appeared to have sealed Harry's fate, one way or the other, and could have sealed Neville's, had events gone any differently.

Once Harry had finished explaining the prophecy, and what it meant, Neville looked horrified.

"So, let me get this straight," he whispered. "When Voldemort went after you and your family, he defined the prophecy?"

"Basically, yeah- according to Dumbledore," Harry replied. "I don't know about your parents- I mean, maybe, you know, the other Death Eaters thought they'd protect Voldemort by coming after..." He didn't finish his sentence. Neville had gone pale.

"I see," he said swiftly. "But, I don't really get that- he was dead! Or, at least, everyone thought he was."

Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, but the really loyal Death Eaters were convinced he'd return," he replied. "The Lestranges were definitely loyal- and completely batty."

Neville nodded glumly.

"Yeah, and that's a pretty lethal combination," he commented, before meeting Harry's eyes for the first time since he had stormed out of the Gryffindor common room.

"Do you know, I just can't believe they're out there- never mind locking them up, they should have killed them before they even had a chance to escape!" he spat. Harry shook his head.

"If the Ministry had done that to all their prisoners, I'd have never known my godfather," he reasoned.

"Not that it mattered much, Harry- she killed him, too," Neville added, angrily. Harry felt a hot stab of fury smash into his stomach at the words.

"You think I need reminding?" he retorted, furiously. Neville looked sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he replied. "It's been horrible for everyone- you, me, Hermione; we've all lost our parents, in one way or another, to Voldemort. So has Susan Bones. Ron nearly lost his dad today, and Malfoy- much as I hate him- he did lose his mum."

"I know," Harry replied, unwilling to share with Neville exactly how Draco had come to lose his mother; as desperate vengeance from a tribe whom Voldemort had taken a particular interest in, and who were now all but slain.

A soft plopping sound indicated to Harry that Neville had just thrown another stone into the lake, only this time he had not bothered to try and skim it.

"I hate feeling so helpless," he confessed quietly. "I mean, all these horrible things keep happening, and we can't do anything to stop them. We just have to sit around and hope it goes away. That's something you've got that the rest of us haven't, Harry- at least you can do something about it."

"But how?" Harry found himself asking. "I'm supposed to have this power- I don't have any power! I'm no better than anyone else here at school. I can't even captain the Gryffindor Quidditch team to one decent victory! Hermione wipes the floor with me in every lesson, for Merlin's sake!"

Neville appeared thoughtful for a moment; watching the rippling waters of the lake with an intensity Harry had only seen him exude during the D.A. meetings.

"Not every lesson, Harry," he said, quietly. Harry looked at him.

"Excuse me?" he asked. Neville shrugged.

"You're better at Defence Against the Dark Arts- Hermione herself would tell you that..."

"Yeah, well, I've got to keep up with you in our D.A. lessons, haven't I?" Harry pointed out. Neville looked bashful for a moment.

"It's important, though, isn't it?" he remarked. "We've all got to do what we can; otherwise we'd have lost before we even started."

"That's true," Harry said, although his nonchalant tone of voice disguised the sudden jolt he had felt upon hearing Neville's words. Right from the beginning of this whole mess, when he had witnessed- and been a part of- Voldemort's rebirth, through to Dumbledore's explanation, Fudge's grudging acceptance and graceful resignation, and Arthur Weasley's sudden appointment as Minister for Magic; Harry thought he had never heard a truer word spoken. Despite everything the Order and the Brethren had been through, Harry had never once got the inking that any one of them were ready to give up. Alex was constantly orchestrating the fight against Voldemort and his forces, despite the losses she had endured, and whilst battling to have a normal pregnancy. Persephone had lost countless members of her family by now, and she still refused to let go of her steely determination to win at all costs. Lupin had suffered enormously from the pain of several nightly transformations, and although he had despaired occasionally, he had put on a brave face and carried on. McGonagall, Moody, Hagrid- they had felt the pain of Dumbledore's passing probably more deeply than anyone, and they continued to fight in his name. Arthur Weasley had nearly died from Voldemort's offensive strategies twice now, and he refused to be silenced. Molly Weasley lived in constant fear of her family being killed, but that didn't stop her from doing the best she could to aid the efforts of the Order. Even Snape- and it nearly killed Harry to admit this, even to himself- had been marked for death, but Harry had not seen him crawl quietly away into a corner. Unlike Karkaroff, who had fled when his betrayal to Voldemort had been exposed, Snape seemed determined to see things through to the bitter end. It seemed churlish for Harry to do anything less.

"I suppose there must be something I've got that can defeat Voldemort," Harry conceded. "Though I hope I find out fairly sharpish."

Neville nodded.

"Me too," he replied, before chuckling a little. Harry shot a look at him.

"What is it?" he asked. Neville tried to smother s grin, and failed.

"Wouldn't it be just so frustrating if, on meeting Voldemort face to face, you discovered exactly what that power you have to defeat Voldemort was, only to realise you'd left it on the kitchen table, or something?"

"Neville!" Harry remonstrated, before he too began to laugh. He wasn't sure why the concept of Neville's dark scenario was so amusing- perhaps it was just the release he had needed all this time. Of all the reactions to his plight he had been used to- sympathy, horror, admiration- her had never heard his place in this most detrimental of prophecies to be met with laughter before. Somehow, mocking the situation was a small comfort to Harry.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Harry said, once they had both calmed down. Neville gave him a small smile.

"It's okay," he replied. "I suppose if I'd have been in your position, I might have kept quiet about it too... But you've got to understand why I was so angry," he reasoned. Harry nodded.

"I do, I do," he protested. "Anyway, you reacted better than I did when Dumbledore told me."

"What did you do?" Neville asked. Harry looked at the floor momentarily.

"I threw a tantrum," he admitted. "I smashed loads of his stuff up..."

Neville looked at him with distaste for a brief moment, before sniggering again.

"You utter brat!" he exclaimed. Harry hung his head in shame, though he was laughing a little, too.

"I know, I know," he replied. "But come on, I was fifteen!"

Suddenly, Harry became aware of brisk footsteps heading in their direction. It didn't take long for him to spot Professor McGonagall walking towards them.

"What in Merlin's name are you two doing out here?" she chided. "Come on, get inside!"

Harry and Neville got up to their feet.

"I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall," Neville said. "It was my fault. I wasn't really paying attention to the time, and..."

"Never mind that now," she interrupted, quickly. "Mr Potter, if you could wait for me in my office, please? Mr Longbottom and I need to have a few words- this way, please." She steered Neville towards Alex's classroom as she spoke.

"I'll see you later," Harry managed to mouth at Neville, before he made his way up to the Headmistress' office.

Harry wasn't entirely surprised to find most of the Order and the Brethren liaison members sitting around McGonagall's office table; he imagined news of his own slip of the tongue concerning the prophecy had reached all corners of the two resistance groups. They all looked mournful, which suggested to Harry that the news of Tonks death had spread to everyone, too. He also noticed that Augustine seemed somewhat conspicuous by his absence, but Moody stood up to speak, removing the opportunity for Harry to ask where he was.

"Evening, Harry," he said, in his usual gruff tones. Harry looked around the room, and was suddenly conscious of the act that they all, most likely, wouldn't exactly be thrilled about the fact that he had told Neville about the prophecy.

Look," he pleaded. "I'm really sorry about what happened..." His words were soon lost in Moody's retort.

"You idiot boy!" he roared. "This is sensitive information, and you've just shared it!"

"It was only one person, Alastor," Lupin tried to reason, but Moody appeared to be having none of it.

"One person? That's what they all say! Soon enough, half of the British Isles know of it!" he retorted.

"That's what Faith said," Harry commented. "Well, sort of..." He decided that now would not be the best time to explain Faith's personal experience involving Angelina Duchene and Dominique Belmont during her days at Beaubaxtons.

"And she's right!" Moody continued to rant, albeit in slightly less of a fury. "She may be madder than a box of frogs doused in a Confusing draught, but she made a very wise point, laddie!"

Alex and Persephone looked sharply at Harry, and a sudden feeling of dread struck deep in the pit of his stomach.

"I still can't believe you did this," Alex said, in that quiet voice of hers she only ever used when she was deeply furious. Persephone merely shook her head.

"You noodle," she remonstrated. Alex rolled her eyes.

"Noodle?" she commented. "Noodle doesn't cover it!" She swivelled her magical eyes around to glare at Harry.

"What were you thinking?" she demanded. "This is supposed to be delicate information!"

"I'm sorry, it just slipped out!" Harry protested.

Persephone glanced at the door, before looking up at Harry. He was relieved to see that she didn't look very angry with him.

"What are we going to do, then?" she asked. "We can't exactly pretend it didn't happen. We've got to tell Neville something..."

Alex snorted.

"Why, exactly?" she asked. "He isn't supposed to know anything- why tell him even more!"

"I think Minerva is in the process of doing precisely that, Alex," Lupin commented, quietly. Alex's enraged expression did not flicker.

"The more children we bring into this, the worse off I think we're going to be," she spat. Persephone looked calmly at her.

"Look, Al, these children aren't exactly children anymore," she reasoned. "Besides, it isn't like Neville will treat this lightly. You know what happened to his parents- everyone here does. You of all people know what it's like to deal with that when you're young."

Moody shook his head.

"Terrible," he muttered to himself. "Terrible thing to do... They were two of our finest Aurors, as well..." He trailed off, apparently unable to speak any further. Clearly their horrific treatment at the hands of the Lestranges still hurt Moody to this day.

"Exactly, "Persephone continued. "So, he's probably the last person who'd ever give into Voldemort."

Moody looked curiously at her.

"You're putting a lot of faith in this boy," he countered. Persephone shrugged.

"I've taught him Defence Against the Dark Arts throughout his N.E.W.Ts. He's a toughie," she said, simply. Lupin nodded in concord with Persephone's words.

"That's true- he's a quiet boy; rather shy, if I recall- but he's very strong willed with it," he agreed.

At that point, McGonagall entered the room, with a nervous looking Neville by her side.

"Well, everybody, for those of you that haven't met; this is Neville Longbottom," she said, in a kindly tone of voice. Neville smiled uneasily, with the air of somebody who has been thrust unwillingly into the spotlight of a stage with an audience of thousands, whilst those members of the Order whom had never met him scrutinised him carefully.

"Hi, Neville," Persephone said languidly. "You okay?"

Neville's initial look of fright quickly melted away, leaving only bewilderment and curiosity.

"Professor Beauchamp? You're in on all this?" he asked, before blushing furiously, as though he had overstepped the mark. Persephone merely grinned.

"Yeah, there's a bit of a conspiracy going on, as I'm sure you can see," she replied, jerking her head towards Alex. "Professor Ridley's involved, too."

Neville looked stunned.

"Wow," he managed to breathe. "I mean, how long for? How long has this been going on?"

"Technically speaking, long before you were born," Persephone replied. "Most likely, it'll go on long after we've all shuffled off this mortal coil, too. If nobody's around to fight this kind of evil, then we really will all be doomed."

Neville surveyed her carefully for a moment, before replying, "How long has this been going on for, not technically speaking, Professor?"

"Do we have to give him the bloody history lesson?" Alex snapped. "It's none of his business!"

"It won't hurt, Al," Persephone retorted wearily. "Now, where do we begin?"

She looked around the room, presumably for some assistance in answering her own question. Lupin caught her eye, before he stood up straight and took a few paces towards Neville.

"Well," he said kindly, "I suppose it all began with Professor Dumbledore, really. It's rather a long story, so I'll try and keep it as succinct as possible. When Voldemort first tried to rise to power during the seventies, few were able to stand up to him..."

"Yeah, I know," Neville said. "My Gran always talks about it..." He trailed off momentarily, before adding, "That's why my parents- you know- isn't it?"

Harry assumed Neville wanted further clarification that what they had discussed between them was an accurate assessment of the situation.

Lupin smiled gently.

"I'll come to that, Neville. Your parents were indeed brave; and like many who stood against Voldemort, they paid dearly for it. You see, the Ministry fought his attacks tooth and nail- Bartemis Crouch Senior permitted the Aurors of the time to use the Unforgivable curses upon Voldemort's loyal servants- they're known as Death Eaters. However, many people believed in Voldemort's ideas, and it wasn't generally accepted that he was such a tyrant until it was too late. The Ministry, consequently, were somewhat delayed in retaliating. Professor Dumbledore was not so easily fooled, however. He had known Voldemort before he took that name- when he was a pupil at Hogwarts. When Voldemort first arrived in a prominent position, Dumbledore suspected his intentions were more terrible than Voldemort had suggested; besides, Dumbledore disagreed vehemently with the idea that Muggleborn and half-blood wizards and witches were inferior to pure-blooded wizards. He formed his own group of wizards and witches from across all fields and all walks of life, who fought against Voldemort and this dreadful concept of genocide- for it soon became clear that Voldemort's plan involved the destruction of all magical beings deemed 'impure'. The group was small, and our numbers diminished rapidly throughout the first war- Harry's parents, your own, as well as many other wizards and witches; they were all casualties, in one way or another. Every year, Voldemort got stronger, but one year, Dumbledore chanced upon a prophecy that gave us the upper hand, albeit momentarily. No doubt Harry told you about it..."

Neville nodded. Lupin looked at the floor for a second, as though he needed this little pause in his narration to steel himself in order to carry on.

"Indeed," he continued, "it was discovered that either you, or Harry, were to be the only wizards alive that could vanquish Voldemort. Voldemort discovered only part of this prophecy from one of his followers, who happened to have caught just half of it. Unaware of the full prophecy, Voldemort effectively chose his own conqueror, by marking Harry."

Harry found himself feeling remarkably uncomfortable as Neville scrutinised his scar- a scar Neville had seen almost every day for the past six and a half years.

"So, when Voldemort returned, Dumbledore reformed that group?" Neville asked. Lupin nodded.

"Exactly. At a time when our previous Minister for Magic did not want to face the possibility that Voldemort had returned to finish what he began all those years ago, we all had to work covertly to try and forge a decent opposing force. Although we have suffered many losses, we have also been far more successful this time around; thanks, in part, to a new alliance Dumbledore formed just last year."

"With who?" Neville asked, looking around the room. Persephone raised her hand.

"That would be where myself and Alex come in," she confirmed. Neville looked curiously at her.

"So, you're not members of Dumbledore's resistance group?" he asked. Persephone looked uneasy for a moment.

"Not exactly," she said. "I suppose you could say we're affiliated with it, though. Our involvement has helped to increase the resources and manpower of the Order of the Phoenix- that's the official title of Dumbledore's personal force..." She took a deep breath, as though anticipating Neville's reaction to the news. "We're members of the Brethren of Tyr."

Neville's eyes widened significantly, and Harry thought his jaw would end up dislocated if it slackened any further.

"The Brethren of Tyr? I thought they were a myth?" he exclaimed. Persephone shook her head.

"Nope, we're not a myth- a legend, maybe, but certainly not a myth..."

"You murdered purebloods in revenge!"

"Maybe, around a thousand years ago," Persephone reasoned. "Not anymore. The Brethren, as it stands in the modern wizarding world, is a force that works independently of the Ministry, doing the work they seem too afraid to do themselves. We were on the Ministry's top twenty most dangerous groups up until last year," she added, proudly. "Now we've aligned ourselves with the Ministry- although we do not follow their regulations."

Neville still looked gobsmacked.

"So, are you their leader, Professor?" he asked, in an awe-struck manner. Persephone laughed.

"Me? No, not at all- I head..."

"Co-head," Sam interrupted.

"Sorry- co-head- one of the departments, though..."

"So, if you don't lead them, who does?" he asked, eagerly.

"That's our business," Alex replied, coldly. "Now, I think that's enough to be getting on with for the moment..."

"Wow," Neville replied, and for a moment, Harry thought he detected a small smile play upon Alex's lips.

McGonagall walked towards Neville, and placed her hands on his shoulders in a comforting manner.

"Well," she said, in gently tones, "clearly this information is not to leave this room, but does that explain everything for you?"

Neville nodded.

"Yeah, but I do have one question," he replied. McGonagall smiled at him.

"Of course, Mr. Longbottom," she said, inviting him to ask.

"Can I join?" he asked. "The Order of the Phoenix. Can I join?"

McGonagall shook her head.

"That's very noble of you, Mr. Longbottom, but you're too young..."

"I'm of age!" he demanded, at which Lupin sighed.

"Yes, but we won't take on anybody that is at school," he replied. Neville looked indignant.

"What about Harry?" he asked.

"Harry's a... special case. We need to protect him from..."

"What if it isn't him after all? Prophecies are tricky things; we learned that from Firenze," he retorted.

"He's got a point," Sam interjected. "I mean, there but for the grace of Voldemort hitting him with the Killing Curse..."

"If it's an issue," Neville interrupted, "I'll leave school. I'll leave right now."

The entire crowd looked dumbfounded, although Harry wasn't entirely surprised by Neville's outburst. He recalled the fury with which Neville had demanded Harry to keep hold of the prophecy orb at all costs back when they were tricked into walking straight into Voldemort's clutches in the Ministry building during their fifth year at Hogwarts. If there was one thing Harry knew with any certainty about Neville, is that he would want to do everything he could to fight the Death Eaters- to fight those people that put his parents in St. Mungo's.

"It's not like he has a choice, really," Persephone added. "Whether he chooses to work for the Order or not, he's still going to be involved in this war- everyone is, whatever their circumstances. I've seen that for myself."

A few members of the congregation- Lupin, notably, as well as Alex and McGonagall- appeared somewhat uncomfortable at her words. Harry knew why; it was because of the sheer number of her family members that had been murdered by Voldemort's servants, despite their reluctance to side with anybody.

"So, what's the harm in letting him help out?" Persephone asked. Alex looked beyond furious.

"What's the harm? He could get killed, Percy!"

Persephone merely laughed.

"Excuse me? How old was I when I began training under you, Alex? I'll give you a clue- I was younger than Neville," she retorted. Alex glared at her.

"This is different, Persephone," she stated firmly. "When I began training you, there wasn't the impending risk of Voldemort trying to kill you!"

"Yeah, because he'd already managed that one, hadn't he?" Persephone spat. "This has got nothing to do with Voldemort, and you know it!"

Alex sighed.

"Percy, let's not argue about this..."

"Good idea," Persephone replied, before walking towards the office door. "I'll only say something I'll regret. I've got things to do, anyway. Good day."

With those words, she left the room, leaving in her wake a room so silent, you could have heard a dust particle settle.

Neville looked particularly dumbfounded.

"He'd already what?" he exclaimed. Harry nudged him surreptitiously in the ribs.

"I'll tell you later," he whispered.

"What in Merlin's name was that all about?" Moody challenged. Alex signed, and glanced up at the ceiling.

"Persephone seems to think that I'm not thinking clearly," she explained. "She reckons that my being pregnant is clouding my judgement. Maybe she's right- but that doesn't change my opinion on this matter; the less children we involve, the better."

She exhaled heavily and leant against the nearest wall. Lupin walked over to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"She's had a really hard time of it, recently," he reasoned. "She's bound to be upset. Any emotional reaction, and she perceives it as an act of weakness. She's suffered a lot these past few months through emotional reaction; I'm sure she doesn't mean it..."

Alex laughed harshly.

"Oh, she means it, alright," she replied. "Right now, she'll do anything to avenge her family. If she carries on like this, I'm going to have to suspend her from duty- she'll get herself killed, otherwise."

Hagrid looked around the room.

"Yer know, we still 'aven' decided what ter do abou' Neville, 'ere!" he pointed out. McGonagall nodded.

"That's quite right, Rubeus," she replied, before looking Neville in the eye. "Now, I know how much you want to help, and that you don't lack the courage to join the Order of the Phoenix." She paused to polish her glasses with a handkerchief she pulled out of her robe pocket. "However, I simply cannot permit you to become a member- Harry, although he is clearly a key figure in our resistance; he also is not a member..."

"But, Professor!" Neville began to protest, but McGonagall hushed him.

"Like I said, we cannot permit you to join the Order. That doesn't mean you cannot help, though. I believe the Head Boy and Girl would be grateful of any assistance they could receive in uniting and protecting the students," she explained, in a knowing manner. Neville looked astonished for a brief moment.

"You mean, all the D.A stuff?" he asked. McGonagall nodded.

"You catch on fast, Mr. Longbottom," she said with a smile; a smile which Neville returned. It seemed clear to Harry that he was happy to be able to do something to help all of their efforts. He only hoped that Persephone started to feel the same way- her apparent grief was starting to worry him more than it ever had before.

"So, was that everyone in the Order?" Neville quietly asked, as they walked back up to the Gryffindor common room. Harry shook his head.

"No, there are others," he replied. "You didn't meet Mudungus Fletcher. He's basically a crook, but a really useful one. Owed Dumbledore, so still repays him by keeping his ear to the ground and helping the Order find out sensitive information. There's Hestia Jones- she's busy dealing with Tonks' family... Tonks, you didn't meet," he added sadly. "She died earlier today, in that Ministry attack."

"I'm sorry," Neville replied solemnly. Harry shook his head.

"Alex once said to me, there's only one person to blame in all of this; Voldemort. I'm starting to believe that more than I ever did," he explained.

"Anyone else?" Neville asked. "I mean, if the Order knows all about Voldemort's plans, they must have people spying on him, right?"

Harry took a deep breath.

"Yeah, they do. Or rather, they did," he replied. Neville looked curious, and Harry knew he was going to have to explain something that could well induce a coronary.

"Snape," he said. "He was a spy, until he was caught. He's still helping the Order, but he's dodging Voldemort's death warrant."

Neville looked sceptical.

"Snape?" he asked incredulously. Harry shrugged.

"I know, I know- I wouldn't trust him as far as I could curse him, either; but Dumbledore trusted him, and that appears to be the end of it- despite the fact that he used to be a Death Eater, before he apparently became a spy..."

Neville stopped walking, and held up his hands.

"Hang on," he said firmly. "Hang on. Did you just say Snape was a Death Eater?"

Harry looked at Neville's face; which had contorted in fury and disbelief, and suddenly realised he had imparted this particular bit of information far too soon.

"Yeah," he replied. "Apparently he switched sides before Voldemort's downfall... I know it's weird and everything..."

Neville burst out laughing.

"Weird?" he exclaimed. "Far from it- you know it actually makes an awful lot of sense. I mean, the Death Eater thing makes sense." He looked at Harry. "The bit about him changing sides? Now I reckon that's weird," he added darkly.

"That makes two of us," Harry admitted. "Three, actually, if you count Ron..."

"What about Hermione?" Neville asked. Harry felt his insides squirm uncomfortably. The one thing he never wanted to dwell on particularly deeply were Hermione's feelings about Snape. Whatever she might say about the situation of her having kissed him back in 1977- which Harry was still aware made no sense in the natural order of things- she had still done it, and he still didn't want to think on it much.

"Well, you know what she's like about teachers," Harry replied, hoping Neville wouldn't pick up on his bare-faced lie.

"That's true," Neville replied. "Still, he was a Death Eater, and especially seeing what happened to her parents... I mean, you'd think she'd be a little sceptical, don't you?"

"Oh, well." Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him at having been handed such a lifeline. "Snape sort of rescued Hermione from the whole situation. I guess that'd make her trust him a bit."

Neville merely nodded in reply, and Harry mentally thanked him for reminding him of one perfectly acceptable reason as to why Hermione trusted Snape more than Harry or Ron put together.

"So," Neville asked, after a small silence. "What's up with Professor Beauchamp, then?"

Harry sighed.

"What isn't up," he replied. "It's really complicated..."

"Complicated?" Neville enquired. Harry sighed- it would hardly hurt to tell him the whole sorry saga between him, Persephone and Snape- he was bound to find out sooner or later from another Order member.

"Well," he began, as he approached the Gryffindor common room, before thinking better of it.

"Well, what?" Neville whispered. Harry shook his head.

"I'd better not tell you here," he said, gesturing a little further along the corridor. "I don't know how Persephone would take it if she heard me telling you..."

"How come you just called her Persephone, anyway?" Neville asked. "She is a teacher, and calling her that seems kind of odd..."

Suddenly, Harry was distracted from Neville's question by Persephone's voice, barely audible from her office.

"Hang on a second, Neville," he whispered. Neville nodded, and swiftly not only became silent, but became rather still, too. Harry, however, was too busy leaning as close to the office door as he could to notice Neville's reaction.

"Look," he heard Persephone reason. "You want to disappear, right? Well, with this kind of money, you could. I'm just asking for one last favour... Okay, so it's a big one- what did you expect, with the kind of Galleons I'm offering?"

"What in Merlin's name is Beauchamp on about?" Neville asked, and Harry was suddenly aware that they had both heard the same piece of information.

"I haven't got a clue," he replied truthfully, for once. He presumed it was Brethren or Order business- but with Persephone, you really couldn't tell.

The Fat Lady in the nearby portrait coughed in a false manner.

"Password?" she demanded, before adding, "You nosey little beggars," under her breath. Harry merely looked as sheepish as he could whilst Neville discreetly announced the password.

"Do you think everyone's asleep?" Neville asked, as they entered the deserted common room. Harry looked at his watch, and then shrugged.

"Well, it's about midnight," he admitted. Neville nodded.

"Yeah- I reckon Ron and Hermione will be asleep, too," he added. "I wanted to talk to them too, you know, about all of this. See if I could lend a hand..."

"The fact you've been in the D.A. for so long is a bit of a hint to them," Harry said, with a small smile. "Anyway, you'll be bound to catch them after Defence tomorrow."

"That's true," he replied. "Everyone must be back by now... I'm dreading the exams."

"Look on the bright side; they will be our last ever," Harry replied. Neville laughed darkly.

"If we make it through them," he replied. Harry clapped him on the back.

"We're not going to fail after all this revision," he said firmly. Neville looked at him.

"I didn't mean that," he replied solemnly. "I meant if we make it through alive..."

"We will," Harry interrupted firmly. Neville nodded.

"You're right- he's not going to win," he added, in equally firm tones, as they made their way to the stairs that led to the boys' and girls' dormitories. Once they had approached the alcove where the staircases began, Harry felt Neville nudge him sharply in the ribs.

"Here, looks like we're not the only ones awake, after all," he whispered, in amused tones.

Harry looked in the direction Neville was gesturing in, and saw exactly what he meant. Ron and Hermione were standing at the foot of the stairs, embracing each other so closely, it made Harry feel a little embarrassed to be an unsuspecting voyeur on the situation.

"Thanks, Ron- I had a good time tonight," Hermione whispered into Ron chest. He kissed her on her forehead.

"I'm so glad you liked it," he replied. "I was really worried you wouldn't..."

"Well, you needn't have, because I did," she replied, smiling as she broke off from their hug and held his hands.

"We've got lessons tomorrow," Ron said unnecessarily. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, that's true," she said. "We'd better go to bed..."

"To sleep, I know," Ron added, looking a little flushed. "Lessons are first thing, and Persephone would do her nut if we were late for Defence."

Hermione suddenly let go of Ron's left hand, and put her own hand to her mouth to stifle giggles.

"Oh, Ron; I didn't mean- that sounded wrong, didn't it? I meant we needed to get some sleep; I didn't mean... anything else" she said, as a deep red flush crept across her face. Ron looked equally embarrassed.

"I know, it's okay," he replied. They both looked at each other and smiled nervously. Hermione looked at the floor, then back up at Ron.

"Well, goodnight, Ron," she said, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. Ron happily obliged, until they both noticed Harry and Neville standing in the alcove, at which they jumped apart from each other as though they had received a nasty static shock.

"Hello," Hermione said brightly. "How is everything?" She looked across at Neville. "We're really sorry..."

"It's okay, Hermione- I've had a chat with McGonagall and I know a lot more than I did this morning, let's put it that way," he said, before looking briefly at the floor. "I'm sorry I snapped at you..."

"It's okay, Neville," Hermione said, hugging him. "I understand."

"Yeah, forget it, mate," Ron added.

"Well, I'd better go to bed. I'll see you all tomorrow- goodnight," Hermione said, quickly, before running up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Harry got the impression that she felt a little embarrassed at being seen behaving the way she was around Ron; who certainly looked as though he were desperate for Harry and Neville not to ask him any questions.

"So, what did you come up with then, Mr. Romance? It must have been good- Hermione was looking rather pleased," Neville teased. Ron turned scarlet.

"Nothing," he mumbled, before jogging up the stairs. Harry and Neville looked at each other, and neither of them could help but smile.

"Oh, come on, don't be all shy with us," Neville continued, once they had all reached the boys' dormitory. Ron turned away from them and began unnecessarily folding his outdoor cloak.

"None of your business," he replied tersely.

"Ron, you and Hermione are both my friends; that makes it my business," Harry said. "Besides, Neville's friends with you too."

Neville grinned, and added, "Plus, I bet Hermione will tell Ginny, who'll definitely tell us if we ask her really nicely..."

"Alright, alright," Ron protested. "Fine, I'll tell you..."

However, Harry strained to hear his words, as he mumbled them so quietly and incoherently, that Neville began to prod him in the back and demand he speak up. Ron eventually sighed heavily and turned around.

"Fine- I took her... I made up a picnic thing, and sort of took her to a spot near the lake. It began to rain, but I had practised this Umbrella Charm, so it was okay," he explained, turning increasingly red-faced as he did so. He took a deep breath and added, in a voice so quiet it was almost inaudible, "I also made her a box."

"A box?" Harry asked. Ron nodded.

"Yeah, it has a lock and key, and I thought she could put stuff in it- I read a muggle poem a while ago about someone buying their girlfriend a box with all the stuff that reminded them of why they liked each other, and it had a golden key... I thought she might like it," he mumbled.

Harry and Neville looked at each other, before bursting into hopeless hysterical laughter.

"Cut it out!" Ron demanded.

"Alright, you Mary," Neville replied, whilst smothering giggles. Ron glared at him.

"Oi!" he retorted, angrily. Neville continued to snigger.

"You'll be asking her to marry you next," he said.

"Shut up!" Ron demanded, looking at Harry, who was doing everything in his power not to roll about on the floor whilst laughing so hard, that it physically hurt.

"Don't you start," Ron warned, having evidently seen Harry's facial features perform the battle to remain passive.

"Sorry, Ron," Harry replied. "It's just- well, you went to a lot of trouble- which is nice, obviously, but you know, also kind of creepy."

"Yeah, well- you had Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade, remember? I've had to improvise," Ron retorted defensively.

"Oh, not that again," Harry groaned. "Blame Voldemort, not me!"

"Voldemort isn't currently mocking me for making an effort!" Ron replied. Harry stopped laughing at Ron's extreme discomfort, and instead offered him a kindly smile.

"Well, she seemed to like it," he replied. Ron nodded.

"Yeah," he said.

"Here, Ron- where did you get the idea to do all that, anyway?" Neville asked, occasionally biting down on his bottom lip, presumably to prevent any laughter from escaping his mouth. "I never had you down as the romantic type."

Ron shrugged sheepishly.

"I've been owling Bill," he admitted. Neville broke into a huge grin.

"You're asking your brother for advice? It must be serious," he teased. Ron looked at the floo momentarily.

"Well, he's shacked up with Fleur, isn't he?" he explained. "If he can get a half-veela, he must have some tips worth knowing about."

Harry had to admit to himself that Ron had just made a very good point.

Author's Notes: Well, after the teething problems involving uploading these last two chapters, hopefully things will be a bit more regular now (or rather, they will be once my beta-reader's computer is working!).

Anyway, thanks for your patience, and here are my Q and A answers:

Sapnish- LOL; a 'yay!' is good enough for me! I couldn't resist the irony of the bullet-proof vest (or the lame puns that followed) , it seemed fitting that a man classed as a blood traitor for his fascination with Muggles should be saved by a Muggle artefact. I worry Voldemort isn't quiet restless enough- but I suppose that may change in later chapters... Hermione has a few tricks up her sleeve, doesn't she? I think in the books she has the potential to be very useful in this respect. Thanks you for review.

Deltastar100- Thank you for your review; I'm glad 'Brethren of Tyr' didn't put you off from continuing to read : ). I see your point about Ron and Hermione, but I (and presumably the other people that write them together) see it differently. A lot of their treatment of each other is to do with being unable to handle their feelings for each other; there's a lot of jealousy and frustration between the two, but also a very strong friendship, otherwise they wouldn't still be as close in HBP and they were when they made friends in PS/SS, despite their arguments. Still, I'm very pleased you still want to read on despite not being keen on the Ron and Hermione path- so many people will turn away from a fic if they don't like a pairing, and I think they miss out (especially when, like this one, it is only a small part of the story). Oh, and I don't think you've missed a great deal of my chapter uploads- a combination of myself and my beta-reader being very busy, I think.