Resistance

Chapter 8 - Spider's Web

Much to Mrs Weasley's offence, Bill and Fleur had decided to spend their first Christmas at home. This meant that much of the run up to the big day was accompanied by a tearful monologue about how ungrateful children cast off their mothers when they were no longer useful. As if Christmas dinner wasn't miserable enough, Xenophilius Lovegood had been invited. For once, Ginny was glad of the background warbling of Celestina Warbeck - it made the awkward pauses less awkward.

Xenophilius looked grey with exhaustion and his eyes were bloodshot. He didn't eat anything, and spoke only to make comments about how his 'little Luna' always loved a certain carol, or how as a small child she'd inadvertently turned all of her sprouts into bonbons. 'The icing sugar combined with the gravy to make a rather interesting accompaniment to the turkey, we've made it every year since,' he commented, his voice trailing sadly away.

After dinner Ginny longed to escape outside, and the boys gave her the perfect excuse by suggesting they went out for some Quidditch practice. But before she could go, Mr Lovegood beckoned her over. She went to his chair, trying not to look as reluctant as she felt. She could smell the sherry on his breath and suspected he'd already had a few glasses before joining them. Lovegood seemed to be searching his pockets for something. Finally he produced a package, which he promptly dropped.

Once he'd retrieved it, Ginny had already seen that it appeared to be wrapped in an old edition of the Quibbler. It was a square, flatish shape. Harry's face stared out at her - it was the copy where he'd given his exclusive interview about the return of Voldemort. Lovegood spoke, his voice heavy with emotion and alcohol. 'I found thish in my little Luna's trunk,' he slurred, holding the parcel out to Ginny with unsteady hands. 'Chrishmash present for you,' he ended on a hiccough.

Unsure of what to say, other than 'thank you', Ginny took the package. She tried not to look too hard at Harry's picture, his younger self grinning his rather anxious, bemused smile. It seemed a shame to open the package, destroy what Luna herself had wrapped, but she did it anyway, being careful not to tear the paper with Harry's photo.

Inside the parcel was a photograph frame made of a strange, gauzy metal, woven into a square. In the centre was one of the pictures Colin had taken of Ginny, Neville and Luna with the unicorns. The two girls had their arms round each other and Luna was beaming so widely it hurt Ginny to look at. She felt as though she couldn't breathe.

As she stared at the picture, she heard Mr Lovegood say, 'Spidersh' web - tha'sh what she used for the frame, you know. Her mother used to make gifts from it. With the right spells it can be woven to make thingsh as strong as metal, and twishe as beautiful.' He gave a hiccoughing sob. 'Her mother used to say life was like shpidersh' web... beautiful, and strong, but if you catch it at the wrong angle, fragile.'

Ginny tried to answer but found her voice had gone. She felt the heat behind her eyes. She couldn't look at Xenophilius, at any of them. Suddenly, she had to get away. Blindly she rushed up the stairs to her bedroom and flung herself onto her bed, sobbing so hard she thought she'd choke. It was so unfair, so cruel, so wrong! As she cried, she cried not just for Luna, but for her other lost friends. For her brother Ron, out of his depth and in danger. For Hermione, the girl she considered almost as a sister. And for Harry, beloved, beautiful Harry, the boy who'd been so briefly hers but was now lost to a higher cause.

Her mother came in and took Ginny into her arms, letting her cry on. 'She's sixteen, Mum,' said Ginny eventually. 'What are they doing to her?' Mrs Weasley, said nothing. 'Why did she have to be taken away? Why has everyone had to go, Mum? Why did there have to be a war, and why did everyone I care about have to be in it?! It's so unfair!'

She waited for her Mum to tell her that life was unfair, but all she said was, 'I know it is, my love. I know. It isn't fair at all.'

*****

A group of carol singers had gathered in the lobby of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and their voices echoed in the large space. Neville dug some change out of his pocket and added it to one of the bowler hats laid out in front of the choir. 'Do come along, Neville,' snapped his grandmother, always tense around visiting time.

The closed ward was decked out in brightly coloured decorations, and Celestina Warbeck's voice burbled merrily from the wireless by the Healers' station. Healer Strout greeted them warmly, 'Merry Christmas Mrs Longbottom, Neville. Goodness me, Neville, you've grown!'

'Have I?' he asked, surprised. He hadn't noticed any of his clothes getting smaller.

'It's because you stand up properly these days,' his Gran explained, leading the way over to his parents' beds. 'Something about the way you carry yourself. More manly. I've always told you the importance of good comportment. Merry Christmas, Frank darling.' His Gran leant in to kiss his father, who was sitting in the armchair next to his bed wearing the usual expression of bewilderment.

'Hi Mum,' said Neville, to the woman in the bed next to him. Someone had dressed her in a nightgown with reindeer on it and she was wearing a green paper crown. She looked in Neville's general direction, but her eyes did not meet his. 'Happy Christmas,' he continued, carefully removing his present and handing it over to her. She didn't reach to take it, so he lay it down on the bed in front of her.

'I expect you've had your dinner,' Gran was saying to his Dad. She always spoke slightly too loudly to his parents, as though by shouting she had a better chance of penetrating the haze they were in. 'We went to Ethel's this year, she overdid the sprouts as usual, not that it stopped Mr Greedy here having seconds.'

'The stuffing was really good though,' said Neville. 'You should have seen the pigs in blankets - you'd have loved them, Dad.' He saw the look on his Gran's face. 'But not as good as Gran's, obviously.'

'I'm afraid to say it's a pretty bleak picture elsewhere,' continued his grandmother, selecting a chair and pulling it up as close as possible to her son. 'They've completely infiltrated the Ministry and all Muggleborns are being hounded out. That dreadful Snape man is making a terrible meal of things at Hogwarts, just as we feared. The people he's hired as teachers! I shouldn't be surprised if Neville doesn't pass a single exam.'

'Hey!' said Neville, rather indignantly. 'Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick are still good teachers, and I don't want to pass Dark Arts. I'm only doing it because they won't let us change.'

His Grandmother continued as though he hadn't spoken. 'Honestly, Frank, you would be ashamed to see the Aurors. A whole Squad devoted to tracking down the Potter boy! A seventeen year old whelp - and they still can't find him! It's just not the same these days. Of course, I told you about poor Alastor - such a loss. I can almost feel him turning in his grave at what the Squad has become, and poor Rufus of course.'

Neville turned his attention back to his Mum. 'Shall I help you unwrap your present, Mum?' he asked gently, before loosening the paper. She watched him with an anxious look on his face. 'Ooh, look, what d'you reckon it is Mum?' He eased away the paper to reveal a pair of fleece lined slippers. 'They'll keep your feet really nice and cosy!' he told her.

Alice Longbottom blinked at the slippers as though she'd never seen such a thing before. After some time, she reached into her dressing gown pocket and removed something, which she held out to Neville. 'For me?' he asked. 'Thank you, Mum.' He took the object and realised it was a chocolate frog card of Dumbledore. He looked up into her face and caught her eye. For a second she held his gaze, before backing off in confusion.

Neville and his Gran remained for some time, Gran listing all the goings-on the in world to his father, who gazed past her left ear. If he was moved to hear of the deaths of former colleagues, or the changes to the world he'd once fought to protect, then he showed no sign of it. Alice hummed the tune of a carol as she picked at her bedclothes. Finally, his Gran rose to her feet. 'Well, I suppose we'd better get going. We're expected at Archie's for tea. Come along, Neville.'

'Bye, Mum, bye, Dad,' he said softly, hugging his mother as gently as he could. He was always afraid she might break, so small and frail did she appear. As always, he patted his father's shoulder awkwardly. His father didn't move and continued to stare fixedly at the Christmas tree in the corner, but his mother responded slightly to his hug and briefly squeezed his arm. He got that feeling again, that something deep within her knew who he was and understood him. If only that small part could get out. 'I love you, Mum,' he said quietly.

Outside the ward he looked again at the chocolate frog card. 'She gave me this,' he said, showing his Gran. 'D'you think... she was trying to encourage me? You know, telling me to keep going with Dumbledore's Army?'

'I think it was probably the nearest thing she had to hand,' said his Grandmother sniffily. Then she saw his face. 'Perhaps some part of her still realises that Dumbledore is - was - someone we respected.' She increased her pace. 'You know, your parents would very heartily approve of your Dumbledore's Army. That you're not only standing up to the authorities at school, but leading the effort. If your father were at school, it's exactly what he would have done. Now come along, we mustn't be late for Archie.'

Neville followed her with a lighter heart. He knew he was never likely to get much greater praise from his Grandmother. Even if his parents didn't know much about what was going on around them now, the thought that they would approve of what he was doing gave him a glow of warmth which stayed with him even as he entered the chill of the winter night.

*****

It was several days after Christmas. Ginny was sitting on her bed, trying to write to Neville. She'd been starting and stopping all day, having already put it off for the whole of the previous day. Now she knew she had to write something, as Neville would almost certainly be eagerly awaiting a reply. So far she'd managed, Dear Neville, Thanks for your last owl. She picked up the quill again, stared at the parchment, then put it down.

'It's all right for you,' she said to the photographs of her friends, waving tirelessly to her from the bedside table. 'You don't have to try and think of things to write that sound cheerful and don't give away any information the Ministry might use against us.' She swore under her breath. 'Here I go again, talking to you lot like you're real. I'm going insane you know. Sitting inside all day, talking to myself.'

Downstairs she heard the front door shut; her Dad must be back from work. She frowned and forced herself to concentrate. Glad your Mum gave you a card. She threw down the quill again. 'For goodness sake, what am I meant to say? His Mum doesn't know Dumbledore from the doorpost and probably doesn't have any more idea about her son.' She slumped back onto her pillows and covered her eyes with her hands.

Then she heard her mother's voice, higher and more anxious than usual, exclaiming about something. Feeling instantly sick, she got to her feet and moved quickly to the top of the stairs. She was preparing herself for the worst when her mother called her down. In the kitchen, Mrs Weasley looked pale and upset, and Mr Weasley rather dishevelled. 'What is it?' she asked. The real unspoken question hung unsaid between them. Who is it?

'It's Xeno Lovegood,' said her father, making her heart do a strange somersault. She knew she'd felt a terrible, guilty relief for a moment, that it wasn't one of her brothers or Harry. 'I went to his place from work, to check up on how he's doing, and the house has been destroyed.'

'Destroyed?' echoed Ginny in horror.

'Yes, blown apart. It's just a ruin. There's no sign of Xeno and a Dark Mark over the house. I went over to the Culvers - they're the nearest wizard family - and they said they'd heard the bang and one of the sons went to investigate. He didn't want to get too close, but he arrived just as Xeno was being dragged off to Azkaban by a pair of Death Eaters.'

'Azkaban,' repeated Ginny, as her mother gasped, 'Poor Xeno!'

'But he printed what they wanted him to!' exclaimed Ginny, rousing from her state of shock. 'He put in that stupid picture of Harry and that 'undesirable' crap! What else did they want him to do?'

Arthur shook his head. 'It's impossible to know what they want; the Death Eaters aren't reasonable people. Xeno would have followed their orders to the letter, but once he'd printed the paper they probably thought that was enough. I suppose they thought he was too unpredictable to carry on - they've already got the Prophet for spreading their propaganda. I blame myself, I should have persuaded him to get some proper protection, a Fidelius charm or something.'

'He'd never have accepted it, Arthur,' said Molly, squeezing her husband's shoulder. 'He wouldn't have done anything that might have antagonised them, he was so terrified about that poor little girl.'

'Mum, what's going to happen to Luna now?' asked Ginny, suddenly full of dread again.

Her mother couldn't meet her eye, and it was her father who answered. He gently pressed her down into a chair first. 'They may keep her prisoner - if anyone knows that she was friends with Harry, there's a chance they might hold on to her in case they can use her as bait. But there's a chance... well, to be honest Ginny, there's a chance that they killed her shortly after she was taken. Xeno never had any evidence she was still alive, just the Death Eaters' word - and that's not worth anything.'

Ginny felt as though the words were coming to her from a great distance, perhaps underwater. They reached her ears, and came into her brain, and registered, but the meaning was too big and awful to comprehend. Since the initial horror of Luna's kidnap, she'd managed to convince herself her friend was alive. That there was still hope. Somehow, the fact that she'd probably been deceiving herself for the past week seemed as bad as the fact that her best friend was probably dead.

She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there for, vaguely aware of her mother crying, her Dad's warm hand on her shoulder. Bizarrely, she found herself thinking about an Astronomy essay she was supposed to write. A random piece of information about the constellation of Aquarius had come into her mind, and she found herself thinking how she could weave it into the essay. She'd never really wanted to take Astronomy, she'd only done it because Luna had. McGonagall had thought her stupid, but now she was glad. She remembered their last lesson, where Luna had driven Professor Sinistra to distraction by focussing on all the wrong planet groups and ascribing her own names to them.

Thinking back, Ginny knew why Luna had done it. She'd been trying to cheer Ginny up. So much of Luna's seemingly random, dippy behaviour had been far from it.

Ginny rose from the chair. 'I need to write to Neville,' she said numbly.

'Ginny, love, have some dinner...'

'I don't want dinner, I need to write to Neville. He doesn't know. He needs to know.'

She walked through the empty rooms of the Burrow. As she climbed the rickety stairs she had a strange sensation of disassociation. She watched a red headed girl walking up a staircase. The girl had an upturned nose and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, and her shoulders slumped inside her overlarge jumper. She watched the girl bend her knee and lift her leg, place her foot on the next step and bring the other to join it, without feeling the tread beneath her foot.

With a lack of interest, she saw the girl enter a bedroom. Figures in pictures laughed at her from a fantasy world of sunshine and fun. Her own self giggled as she cavorted with photograph people trapped in an endless loop. A quill lay on the bed, a piece of parchment on the floor. A tiny owl fluttered in the corner. The girl picked up the quill and inked the nib, then began to write. As she watched, her vision zoomed out, leaving behind the tiny house marooned in the darkness, an insignificant island in a world that was devoid of colour and light.

*****

Neville flattened himself against a wall and tried to breathe silently, which wasn't easy when his chest was heaving with exertion. Next to him, he could feel Ginny quivering with tension. He felt as though sparks might fly from his fingers, he felt so alert. A few seconds later, they heard a roar of rage. 'These pesky little brats! When I get my hands on 'em, I'm gonna skin 'em alive!'

The two fled along the corridor and were already half way up the stairs before Amycus Carrow could be heard in the corridor, bellowing with rage again at the sight of a slogan daubed on the wall in foot high letters, 'Dumbledore's Army - Still Recruiting!' Neville led the way along another corridor lit with moonlight, and then up the north stairs back towards Gryffindor. They waited until they reached the Common Room before they stopped.

'That was fun,' said Ginny, her cheeks flushed from exhilaration.

'That was close,' Neville corrected her, uneasily going back to the portrait hole and risking a peek outside. 'Too close. We're taking stupid risks Gin...'

'Oh Neville, stop being such an old woman! The only time I feel truly alive is when I'm out there, doing something, taking a risk! Don't you get a thrill from it? Come on, you've gotta admit, it feels pretty amazing.' She grinned at him, and as always he felt taken about by the way she could change so dramatically from one hour to the next.

'It's exciting,' he admitted, 'but sooner or later, they're going to catch us.'

Ginny made a casual gesture with her hand. 'Let them. Do I look like I care? So what if they catch us. They can do what they like to me. Luna's gone, Harry's gone, Ron's gone, Hermione's gone - the twins and my parents can look after themselves. You and me, Nev, we've got nothing to lose.'

He hated it when she talked like that. 'We've got a lot to lose,' he reminded her. 'Our families, our place here at Hogwarts - if we get expelled, we're not going to be able to do much about the Carrows then, are we? And what about all the other kids?'

She shrugged, but he could feel her calming down. 'You always have to put a dampener on everything. Why can't you just be reckless?'

'That was pretty reckless!' He looked at her, exasperated. 'I don't know what to make of you, Ginny. Sometimes I can hardly get you to talk to me, others it's all I can do to stop you attacking Snape and the Carrows in front of the whole school.'

'Least I'm never dull!' She pulled him into a brief hug, then kissed the top of his head and ran over to the girls' stairs. 'G'night!' she called back as she disappeared.

Neville climbed the stairs more slowly and took his time changing into his pyjamas. As he returned from the bathroom, Seamus spoke from his bed. 'You're back late.'

'Sorry, did I wake you?' Neville pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.

'Na, I was awake anyway. Been doing DA stuff?'

'Yeah. We put a load of graffiti on the walls around the Dark Arts room, then Ginny went in and did a load of stuff in Carrow's office too. We woke him up and he nearly caught us, had to run all the way back.' He sank back onto the pillows and looked up at the top of his four poster. In the fourth year he'd managed to get some faintly glowing stars up there, one of the charms he'd mastered more easily.

'She's a bloody maniac,' said Seamus into the darkness. 'I swear, the girl's trouble through and through.'

'She didn't used to be that way, she used to be fun. All those years we hung out, on the edge of Harry's group... she was always opinionated, and you wouldn't want to cross her, but this is different,' replied Neville, thinking about his conversation with Ginny, the flush on her cheeks and wild brightness in her eyes. Suddenly, he voiced the thought he didn't allow to come to the fore too often, but somehow the darkness made it safe to say. 'I miss Luna. She always knew the right thing to say. And she used to make me laugh, even though she was bonkers. I... I just miss her.' He felt a lump in his throat that prevented him from saying more.

Seamus paused before replying. 'It's amazing how you notice all the time when someone who used to be there, isn't any more. You can't get away from it.'

Neville knew his friend was talking about more than just Ginny and Luna. 'Sometimes, I think I see her, out of the corner of my eye. And I jump and look round... and it's some other girl, with blonde hair, or maybe not even blonde. Then I feel stupid.'

The other boy laughed mirthlessly. 'I sometimes remember a joke or something, and I turn to Dean to tell him, and I feel surprised he isn't there. Then it's like I go through it all over again, remembering what's happened.'

They both fell quiet, staring at the ceilings of their respective beds. After a few moments, Seamus said, 'That's the trouble with women, they're all bloody crazy. Look at Lavender - you'd think she was pretty normal, right? Wrong. Look how bonkers she went over Ron last year. Ron, for goodness sake! She never even batted an eye at yours truly. Just goes to show. They're all insane.' He contemplated. 'That's what was different about that Luna. She was mad, but in a way you could see. I liked her.' He sounded surprised by that realisation.

Neville sighed and turned over. 'Anyway, I'm going to have to ease off a bit on the DA stuff. They're getting really twitchy about it. I don't want to get any of the others into danger.'

'Yeah, it would be good if at least two Gryffindor boys made it to the end of seventh year,' said Seamus. 'Well, night.'

'Good night,' said Neville thoughtfully. He shut his eyes and tried to think about Herbology, to block out the sadness he felt over Luna, until he finally fell asleep.

*****

Seamus Finnegan returned from the bathroom to his dormitory one icy January evening, and had a shock to see a red headed figure sitting on a bed. 'What the-!' he exclaimed. For a second he thought Ron Weasley had reappeared. Then he realised the hair was longer, the figure slighter. The disappointment only increased his irritation. 'What the hell are you doing in here?' he asked angrily, throwing his robes down at the end of his bed.

Ginny looked up at him with sorrowful eyes. 'I was worried about Neville. He's not back from detention yet. I thought I'd come up and just check he hadn't got back without me noticing.'

'Well, he didn't, all right? And he's got enough to think about without you stalking him.' Seamus kicked off his slippers, one going right under the bed.

A flush of colour rushed across Ginny's cheeks. 'I'm not stalking him!' she exclaimed hotly. 'He's the best friend I've got - the only friend I've got left! Aren't I supposed to care about him?'

'You don't need to start wandering around his bedroom,' snapped Seamus, snatching his wand. 'In case you didn't notice, he already has a friend who shares his dorm and can keep an eye out for him. Or don't I count for anything? Accio!' The slipper zoomed from under the bed and narrowly missed Ginny.

'Why d'you have to be so horrible to me all the time?' cried Ginny, grabbing the slipper and holding it against her like a hostage. Tears rushed up into her eyes. 'You've behaved like a total jerk all year!'

'I'm not being horrible, just 'cos I don't spend all my time pussyfooting around you in case I upset your precious feelings. Man, you're aging Neville faster than Snape and the Carrows put together. High maintenance. I can do without it meself.' He glowered at her across the room.

'If this is about Dean-' she began.

'Merlin forbid it should be about anyone but you!' retorted Seamus. 'Now if you don't mind, I need to get some sleep, so get out of my room.'

'It's Neville's room too and I'm not leaving until he gets back!' Ginny squared up to him angrily, and Seamus moved his wand up. But both were interrupted by a weary voice from the stairs.

'What is going on? What are you doing up here, Gin?' Neville was standing in the dormitory doorway, looking like of all the things he'd hoped to find on his arrival back to his bedroom, Ginny and Seamus about to duel wasn't one of them.

Seamus lowered his wand and looked embarrassed. 'She came up here looking for you, I told her she didn't need to-'

'I was worried about you! I started thinking they'd got you too!' She was beginning to cry. 'I thought I'd never see you again!'

'Oh please,' muttered Seamus, rolling his eyes, but he fell quiet at a look from Neville.

'Ginny, you've got try not to get so worried. I was in detention, OK, that's all. Look, I got five hundred lines on 'I must not contradict Professor Carrow'.' He held out a raw and bleeding hand. 'She bumped up the number when I commented on how impressed I was she could use such a big word as 'contradict'. I've got a sore hand, but I'm not going anywhere.' He reached out and gave her an awkward pat on the arm. 'I know you care, and it's really kind of you to come and check, but now you'd better get back to bed before you start any rumours, OK?'

She nodded tearfully. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered, reluctantly moving to leave.

'Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be sorry for. G'night!' Neville called after her, before turning to Seamus, who'd removed a bottle of Murtlap essence from his bedside cabinet and brought it over.

'Nothing to be sorry for apart from scaring the bejeezus out of me and wandering around in our bedroom uninvited,' he said, removing the dropper from the bottle. 'What if I'd been naked? This'll sting a bit.'

'Seamus, since when have either of us walked around the dorm - ow! - naked?' Neville shook his smarting hand.

'That's not the point. Point is, if I wanted to, I should be able to without fear of walking into some perving girl,' he muttered, dabbing the murtlap over Neville's hand untidily.

Neville opened his mouth to defend Ginny, but realised he didn't have the energy. Instead he gritted his teeth as the murtlap worked its way into the cuts. Seamus pulled a face. 'You're not going to have much hand left soon. You need a proper Healer.'

'Yeah well, no chance of that. Pomfrey's not supposed to help, and the only other Healer I know is Healer Strout, and hands aren't really her area of expertise.' A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he didn't hear Seamus' reply. He went over to his bedside cabinet and pulled out a quill and parchment.

'You're not doing your homework now?' said Seamus in disbelief. He Transfigured the murtlap bottle back into an alarm clock. It looked decidedly long and thin and didn't have any hands, but would probably be good enough to fool Filch in case of an inspection. The administration had taken to spot-checking students' possessions in order to confiscate 'prohibited articles' which included any Muggle items and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products. Neville and Seamus seemed to come up with surprisingly regularity in the 'random' selection process.

'Just writing a letter, won't be long. See you in the morning.' Neville inked the quill, and ignoring the pain in his hand began to write. Dear Healer Strout, I hope you can help me...

*****

Neville knocked on the door and stepped back. He tried not to look apologetic. He heard a shuffling from behind the door and a moment later it opened a few inches. 'Yes?'

'Professor Slughorn? I'm sorry to disturb you sir, it's Neville Longbottom.'

The door opened wider and Slughorn beamed at him. 'Well, well, well! What an unexpected surprise! Come in, come in!' The teacher ushered him inside with a sweeping gesture. Neville entered somewhat reluctantly. He still thought of Slughorn's office as Snape's domain. 'Can I get you a drink? Butterbeer? Nice cup of tea?'

'Er... butterbeer, thank you.' Neville looked around the office whilst Slughorn fetched his drink.

'So, Mr Longbottom! Dare I even say, the elusive Mr Longbottom.' Slughorn chuckled merrily as he uncorked a bottle with a flick of his wand and poured himself a glass of something that looked rather stronger. 'You're giving Professor Snape quite the run around at the moment. I must say, I'm impressed. Behind that affable exterior you've turned out to be quite the young hero.' He handed Neville the bottle and chinked it with his own glass. 'Cheers!'

'Cheers,' said Neville uncertainly, taking a sip of his drink.

'So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr Longbottom?' asked Slughorn. A look of anxiety passed across his plump face. 'I hope you don't expect me to get involved in this Dumbledore's Army business, because you have to understand, my boy, I couldn't possibly countenance such a thing! The administration here would never allow it. I do hope you understand...'

Neville interrupted quickly. 'I wouldn't dream of it sir. I was hoping you could help me with a potion - it's nothing to do with Dumbledore's Army - it's to help a friend. She's... ill... not herself. I know a Healer at St Mungo's, and she suggested this-' He held out the parchment. 'I asked Madam Pomfrey but she said potions making wasn't her forte...'

Slughorn laughed, back to his former hearty self now the threat of assisting Dumbledore's Army had passed. 'Indeed, indeed. Poppy Pomfrey was one of my first students - adequately capable, but no potions master, that's for sure!' He looked at the contents of Healer Strout's letter. 'Hmmm... intriguing mixture, simple enough to make, I think. A mild calming draught combined with a cheering concoction. What did you say was wrong with your friend?'

Neville struggled to find the words. 'She's... I don't know. Sort of unhappy, but not just normally unhappy, so unhappy she can't do things very well. Sometimes she can be this really strong, argumentative, funny person - then others she's really quiet and closed off, and she gets upset about things easily. I thought, perhaps it was an illness, so I asked Healer Strout...'

'Doesn't sound like an illness to me, lad,' said Slughorn cheerily, taking the letter and going over to his ingredients store. 'But I don't see the harm in making the potion, since it comes from St Mungo's. It should be administered by Madam Pomfrey of course.'

'That would be very kind sir, thank you so much.' Neville put down his half-finished butterbeer and began edging towards the door.

'No problem, no problem at all, Longbottom. As you know, I'm always at the disposal of certain... gifted students. Such a shame I haven't been able to hold any of my little get-togethers lately... maybe next year, when things are a bit calmer... Well, don't be a stranger, Longbottom, and I hope this little 'friend' of yours is back to herself soon!'

Neville backed out of the room thanking Slughorn profusely. He had to jog all the way to the top of the castle to get back to Gryffindor tower before curfew. 'Where've you been?' greeted Seamus, as he clambered panting through the portrait hole. 'We thought you weren't going to make it back!'

'DA stuff,' he said shortly, and used his breathlessness as an excuse not to elaborate. He had no intention of explaining his plan to Seamus. He knew the other boy would neither understand nor approve.

*****

Hagrid was crying loudly into a handkerchief the size of a tea towel. 'She were the bes' student I ever 'ad!' he gasped between sobs. 'Never known anyone with such a nat'ral way with animals!'

The little crowd of mourners had gathered outside the greenhouses in a steady drizzle. The DA had come along, along with most of the teachers and some of the other Ravenclaws. Of the teachers, only the Carrows were missing. Even Professor Trelawney was there, weeping into a handkerchief almost as big as Hagrid's. Snape stood a short distance away, cloak wrapped around him against the elements, his face inscrutable. Neville had been surprised and somewhat disturbed by the arrival of the Headmaster at the memorial service to mark Luna's birthday. He hadn't even expected it to be allowed to go ahead, but Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had been adamant.

Ginny's theory was that Snape had to keep up an appearance of caring about the students - the pureblood ones at least. 'If he starts condoning children getting kidnapped, he'll have a parent mutiny on his hands. He has to pretend he's upset by it, even though the bastard probably drew the Death Eaters a map and handed over the train timetable in person.' She was standing beside Neville now, pale and grim, but somehow stronger. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

'And now,' squeaked Professor Flitwick, 'as we remember Luna, we hope with all our hearts that she is somewhere unharmed, and will be returned to us. In the meantime, we light these candles as a symbol of the love we feel for her, a love that will never fade with time or absence.' He held the tip of his wand to the wick of a candle and whispered the incantation. It burst into a bluish flame that flickered strongly despite the damp.

One by one, the gathered students and teachers produced similar candles and ignited the wicks. Neville and Ginny helped some of the younger students with theirs. When all of the candles were burning, Flitwick levitated them together with a swish of his wand, and they floated skywards until they were lost in the mist and gloom.

The mourning party broke up awkwardly, with students straggling back to the Castle. Neville, Ginny and Seamus hung back to speak to Hagrid. 'Little Peverell is pinin' away,' he told them sadly. 'He misses 'er, I can tell. Sensitive creatures, unicorns, they can tell when summut bad 'as 'appened.'

'Did you see Snape?' asked Seamus in a low voice. 'He even lit a candle, the evil sod.'

'I saw,' replied Ginny through gritted teeth. 'I know where I'd have liked to shove his candle.'

'Just say the word and I'll give you a hand.' The two grinned at each other, then quickly looked away.

'It's all goin' wrong,' Hagrid was saying, picking bits from his horrible orange suit. ''Ogwarts just ain't the same no more. 'Dumbledore dead, Arry's gone, and Ron and 'Ermione, now Luna too. The fourth years set fire to me beard on Tuesday-'

'That's terrible, Hagrid!'

'-but I couldn't punish 'em. 'Ow could I hand 'em over to the Carrows, knowin' the sort o' stuff they do to kids? Look at yer poor hand, Neville! An' yers, Seamus. I couldn't do tha' to a kid, not even Antonius Avery. Bu' they know, they know the other teachers ain't got no respect for me. They tolerate me at the moment because I've got wizard blood, no doubt about tha', but once they've finished with the Muggleborns it'll be half-breeds nex', you mark my words.' He wiped his eyes. 'Anyways, yeh'd better be gettin' back to the Castle, or yeh'll be in trouble for breaking one or other of their rules.'

'I'm going to check on my broom, that way we can't get stopped for being a gathering of more than two students,' said Seamus. 'I'll see you back at Gryffindor.'

Ginny slipped her arm through Neville's and they walked up to the Castle in silence. The rain had closed in more, blocking out all but their immediate surroundings. In the muffled and close atmosphere, Neville felt strongly the sensation that they did not walk alone. He felt certain that just beyond the edge of his vision, his absent friends kept pace beside him. Ginny must have sensed it too, because as they reached the Castle she said, 'I know it sounds stupid, but I really do believe that if you think hard enough about a person, that person can sense it, even if they're far away.'

Neville wasn't sure he agreed, so he made a non-committal noise. After a pause, Ginny continued, 'The potion... it's helping. I feel different. Better. Not happy exactly, the bad things are still all there, but like I can deal with them.'

He smiled. 'That's good, Gin. Really good.' There was an awkward moment, before Neville changed the subject. 'I'm worried that Hagrid might be right.'

She sighed, and nodded. 'I've never understood why they kept him on, even. Hagrid's not only a half-breed but a known supporter of Dumbledore and Harry.'

'Who else could they get to keep the grounds up and the Forest in check?' Neville suggested. 'I mean, if the Carrows are the best calibre of teachers they can get from the Death Eater pool, goodness knows what they'd send us as a groundskeeper. We'd probably end up with Mr Crabbe or someone. The centaurs would overrun the Forest and then probably the grounds too in no time.'

'I hope you're right, Neville. Because the number of people left at Hogwarts who are on our side is decreasing at an alarming rate.'