Resistance

Chapter 13 - The Leader of the Resistance

Hours went past. There were no windows in the Room of Requirement but Neville felt as though it should have got dark around him. Eventually he crawled to the hammock and climbed in. He removed his Gran's letter from his pocket and re-read it. He could feel the tears that tracked down his cheeks. Then he wiped his face on his sleeve, put the letter away carefully, and slept.

When Neville awoke he needed the toilet and found that the Room had thoughtfully sprouted one, standing incongruously in the middle of the floor. 'Room, I need a toilet in its own room, with a locking door,' he said firmly. Even though he was painfully alone in the room he still felt that he'd rather have some privacy.

When he emerged he found the room had sprouted a clock - which indicated it was 5 o'clock - though whether in the morning or the evening he couldn't be sure. There was also a toothbrush and a pile of books on duelling and defensive magic. As he was examining his new possessions something else caught his eye, on his hammock a small object that reflected the light. He hurried over and picked it up, his breath sticking in his throat.

It was one of the photographs Colin had taken at Halloween of Ginny and Luna dancing. They spun and laughed, immortalised forever. He stared at the photo, then said aloud, 'Thank you, Room.' The Room had tried to provide the one thing he needed more than anything; friends.

After he'd brushed his teeth, he tried to take stock and pull himself together. Worst case scenario, he'd have to stay until the summer holidays, by when the charm might have been lifted - assuming Flitwick had cast it correctly in the first place. Still, it wasn't a risk he could afford to take just now. He removed his communication Galleon from his pocket and adjusted the numbers to spell out 'FINE' and then the code for the Room of Requirement. He didn't like to think of the DA wondering if he was dead or not.

'OK Room,' he said softly, replacing the coin in his pocket. 'I need you to make sure no sound from this Room can be heard outside. That includes me moving around. And you mustn't let in Filch or Mrs Norris.' He realised he was hungry. 'And some food.' He looked around hopefully. The Room remained the same. 'Room, I need something to eat,' he tried again. Still nothing. 'Please, Room I need some bread.' He tried shutting his eyes, but when he opened them the room remained the same.

Hours later, the room still hadn't yielded up any food or drink. He even began looking at the toilet water, but he decided he couldn't bear that just yet. He began wondering if he should risk leaving. There was a good chance Flitwick would have sabotaged the alarm spell, but Snape would be aware of that too, and might have checked it or even performed it himself. And even if Neville did get into the corridor without triggering an alarm, he'd still have an entire hostile Castle and the grounds to get through, and Neville didn't have that much confidence in his own abilities of evasion. So his choice was either to be defeated by the Carrows, and probably paraded in front of his school friends to leave them in no doubt of what happened to those who defied the regime; or to stay put and starve.

He'd tried every possible way of asking for food that he could think of. He'd even attempted Transfiguring the toothbrush into something edible, but without success. He was so hungry now that he felt quite ill. 'Please,' he said again out loud to the Room. 'I need something to eat or I'm going to die!' He closed his eyes again and waited for as long as he could bear, then finally opened them.

He jumped so violently he almost fell over. A portrait had appeared on the wall, a portrait of a small, blonde girl who was gazing at him rather vacantly. 'Hello?' he said eventually. The girl just stared back, and then smiled a secretive smile, turned and began to walk away from him. It was as though she was walking straight into the wall itself. She began to get smaller as she receded in the distance, and suddenly he realised she was actually walking along a passageway. 'Wait!' he called out, but the figure vanished from view.

The empty corridor in the picture remained. He went over to it hesitantly and felt the portrait frame. It swung aside, revealing a wide square hole, which seemed to open out into a tunnel. Neville stared in wonder. A secret passage? There surely couldn't be one left that no one knew about. Was it a trap? Where did it lead? If he went through, would the portrait seal up behind him, preventing him from re-entering Hogwarts? One thing he knew for sure, no one was going to answer those questions.

He paced the floor, between the new portal and the old door, caught in indecision. He didn't feel that he should leave Hogwarts, even if staying meant that he starved. He found himself looking at the picture of Luna and Ginny. If they were here, they would have stayed, he could just imagine Ginny with her jaw set in determination and Luna quietly smiling as she settled down to sit it out. But on the other hand, Ginny and Luna were dead.

Finally his hunger made up his mind. He knew he couldn't last much longer without water at least. He took Trevor out of his pocket and looked at him. 'I don't know what to do, Trevor,' he said eventually. He'd often talked to his toad, but now he felt self-conscious about it. 'I don't want to leave the school, I'll feel like I'm letting everyone down... but if I starve to death I'm not going to do them much good either. Not that I think I can make much difference. But I'm scared that me being dead will be another thing they use to scare the kids here, stop them fighting back. And if the kids stop fighting... what hope is there for anyone?'

He resumed his pacing, holding a wriggling Trevor up before his face. 'But maybe I'm being too self-important about all this. Would people care all that much about me? Harry's the important one, Harry's the one that everyone looks to.' He sighed and sat down on the hammock, almost losing his balance. 'I just don't want for it to all have been in vain. I'm the only person left now, of the three of us. Ginny and Luna are dead; who will ever know how brave they were? The Prophet won't tell their story, that's for sure.'

Suddenly he noticed a low table had appeared, complete with ink pot, quill and parchment. Frowning, he made his way over. The Room seemed to have known what he wanted before he did. Now he put Trevor down on the table, picked up the quill, dipped it, and began to write.

I am 17 years old and in my 7^th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The year is 1998. Severus Snape is Headmaster of the School. Last year Albus Dumbledore died and the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named began to gain power. The Ministry is now in his grip. The Death Eaters run the school now. I am in hiding. I do not know if I will live for much longer. My friends are gone. If I do not survive, maybe someone one day will find this and understand what my friends tried to do, understand that we fought and tried and never gave up hope.

This picture shows two of my best friends in the world. Luna Lovegood was a caring and gentle person who never feared ridicule and saw the best in everyone she met. She was taken by Death Eaters from the Hogwarts Express on the way home from school at Christmas and killed shortly afterwards. Ginny Weasley was strong, brave and passionate and when her best friend was taken she found a way to carry on. She was tortured and killed for refusing to reveal her brother's whereabouts. They are heroes. But in this picture they are just two schoolgirls having fun. They didn't have enough chances in their lives to have fun. I want to tell their stories whilst I am still alive to do so.

He continued to write almost constantly for at least an hour, his quill rushing across the page. Neville had never been much good at writing, he preferred practical things. Usually writing an essay was a slow and painful process but now the words flowed out of him so fast his hand could barely keep up with his thoughts.

He described how he, Ginny and Luna had carried on Dumbledore's Army, although was careful not to put anything that might identify the other members. He wrote about the terrible things Snape and the Carrows had done at the school. He told of how Luna was kidnapped from the train and how Snape had informed him of the deaths of his friends, how the Carrows had used the Cruciatus Curse on students and how his own Grandmother had been driven from her home. And he wrote about Harry, how he believed in his friend, how Harry was special, how he knew that Harry would never rest until Hogwarts was the way it used to be.

If you have found this some time in the future, I hope that you live in a better world. I hope that Harry has returned and Hogwarts is free. Please make sure everyone knows the truth about Ginny and Luna. If you do not live in a free world, I hope our story shows you that the triumph of evil is not inevitable. You can fight, even if you can only make a small difference, even if you can only make things a little better for some people. It is always worthwhile.

Neville Longbottom, Interim Leader of Dumbledore's Army

He laid down the quill and placed the pages, together with the photograph on the desk. 'Keep it safe for me, Room,' he whispered. He felt better now, calm and empty and at peace. He knew that he was now ready to face his fate, whatever that might be. He picked up Trevor and held his pet against his cheek. 'You've been a good friend to me, Trevor,' he said softly. 'I hope you've had a good life being my toad. I know you tried to escape a lot, but I don't think it was because you were unhappy. I need you stay behind now, and hopefully keep the Room open for me, so if I come back... I can still get in.'

He put Trevor down on the floor and walked over to the passageway, drawing out his wand. He looked back at the toad, who was crawling lugubriously across the floor in the direction of the toilet. Then he squared his shoulders, gripped his wand tightly and stepped into the unknown.

*****

The passage turned out to be very long, with a well worn floor that suggested it had once been used a great deal, and lamps at regular intervals. It sloped quite steeply downwards and he supposed he was leaving the castle. His sense of direction wasn't good enough to work out where he might be passing under or where he might come out. For all he knew he'd emerge right into Carrow's study and instant capture.

To start with he was constantly on guard, but as the tunnel went on he became less alert. It was impossible to stay at that level of tension for a long time. Still, his ears strained for any sound and his eyes were ready to pick up the smallest movement. But nothing moved or made a sound in the tunnel. Eventually he rounded another gentle bend and found himself faced with another flight of stone steps leading up to what looked like a door. Around the edge was a thin line of light. Wherever the door opened, someone was at home.

He climbed the stairs carefully and pressed his ear to the door. He could hear nothing. He racked his brain for a spell that could help him. Then he heard footsteps and before he could do anything the door was swinging open, light spilling in so brightly that he was blinded. He raised his wand and yelled 'Protego!' and almost toppled backwards off the top step.

Whoever had opened the door grabbed his wand arm and prevented him from falling. He was being pulled through the doorway. 'All right, all right, I mean you no harm,' said a gruff voice. He was trying to take in everything at once. The figure was an old man, grey hair and beard, didn't appear to be dressed as a Death Eater. Not that that meant anything.

He was in a small room, with no other people present. There was little in the way of decoration to suggest where he was. The room had a musty smell, and there were a table and chairs in the centre. The carpet had bald patches and the curtains hung unevenly, blocking the window. Dancing firelight filled the room from a fireplace right beneath where he'd emerged. 'Well done, dear,' the elderly man was saying. He obviously caught Neville's surprised expression, because he added, 'Not you.'

Realising that attack wasn't imminent, Neville stood in the middle of the room, still gripping his wand, staring at the old man. Now he could see him better, he had a strong sense of being reminded of somebody. The man's eyes were piercing blue, though partly hidden behind glasses, and he had a straggly, unkempt look. The man gave Neville an equally frank appraisal, and Neville wondered momentarily what he must look like.

'Well,' said the man gruffly, 'no need to ask who you are. You must be the leader of the resistance, Longbottom.'

Neville spluttered at that description, but the other paid no attention. 'Had to go into hiding, have you? Well, you lasted longer than anyone expected. I understand your Granny's on the lam.'

'Have you had news of her?' he asked, forgetting his apprehension about this stranger.

'No, but I wouldn't worry about Augusta. She'd eat a Dementor for breakfast, that woman. Have a seat boy, you're making me nervous, standing up.' He waved towards one of the chairs and Neville sat down hesitantly, still gripping his wand.

'Where am I?' he asked eventually.

'Don't you know? Hog's Head; your old 'Dumbledore's Army' headquarters. Don't look so surprised, I like to keep an eye on my clients.' Neville realised now where he'd seen the man before, he was the bar man of the Hog's Head. 'My name's Aberforth,' he added, 'but most folks call me Ab.'

'Pleased to meet you, Ab' said Neville, still not sure if he was. 'I'm Neville - but you know that already.'

'Hard not to know of you, Mr Longbottom. Quite the young hero. I hear your name almost as much as Harry Potter's. For those poor kids there,' he indicated the passage and presumably Hogwarts, 'you're probably better. Real.'

'Do you know anything about Harry?' asked Neville hopefully.

Ab shook his head. 'I know he's still getting himself into trouble, so far he seems to be getting back out of it again. If you're to believe the radio he's everywhere from John O'Groats to Landsend. If he's got any sense he'll scarper. But I don't get the impression sense is among his strong points.' He held up a hand to quell Neville's protest. 'I'm sure he's being very good and brave and noble, but if I were him I'd be halfway to Timbuktoo by now.'

Neville wasn't quite sure what to say, so he didn't respond. Ab gazed at him thoughtfully. 'So, what are we going to do with you, Mr Longbottom? It's too risky for you to stay here, village is full of Death Eaters and Ministry idiots, hard to tell which are worst - or which are which, these days. I can probably get a message to Hagrid, if we can just get you out of the village he can take you up into the mountains.'

'I don't want to leave Hogwarts,' said Neville at once. 'If possible, I want to go back. I've just come from the Room of Requirement - that's where I'm hiding out. I wanted food, and the Room opened up this passage.'

'You want to go back?' Ab stared at him as though he was mad. 'What for? You're busted, lad. They're not going to let you back in to do your tests now.'

'I'm not interested in tests, I'm interested in my friends, in all the kids in that school who are being terrorised by Snape and the Carrows. I'm not leaving all the time they're still in charge. I don't care if there's nothing I can do. Sooner or later, Harry will come back, and when he does, we'll fight. I'm not going to miss that for the world.' He stared resolutely at Ab, who laughed a mirthless laugh.

'Then you're a fool,' he said roughly. 'But I suppose the least I can do is feed you.' He stood up to leave the room.

'Wait!' called out Neville, as the barman reached the door. He felt a bit embarrassed, but said it anyway. 'How do I know I can trust you?'

'You don't,' replied Ab. 'I could tell you that I used to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix - you know what that is? That I knew your Mum and Dad back during the first war - lovely people, never deserved what happened to them. Your Mum used to like those chocolate frogs when she was expecting you, used to joke that you'd always have an affinity for frogs when you grew up... What?'

'My Mum... It's just... I've got a pet toad, Trevor... my Gran never told me that,' he finished.

'Well, I don't know about whether she was right or not. Your Dad, he used to like the Holyhead Harpies, your mother used to tease him something rotten about it. I remember when you were born, I said, Neville, what d'you want to call him Neville for? Still, better than their original choice. Used to want to call you Albus, after my brother.'

It took Neville a moment to realise what the man was saying. 'Albus - you mean - you're Dumbledore's brother?' Now it was pointed out he could see the resemblance.

'Yep. Not that we ever saw eye to eye exactly. For example, my brother was quite happy to have a bunch of schoolkids putting themselves in all sorts of danger in his name. Oh he talked a good talk did Albus...' Ab broke off and looked at Neville. 'But you're hungry, and here's me rabbiting on like an old codger.' Without further ado, he left the room.

Whilst he was gone Neville paced about, still not a hundred percent sure if he should be trusting Ab or not. Just because someone could make up a few anecdotes about his parents didn't mean they were on the side of good. He risked a peep out of the window; it was light but Hogsmeade was quiet. As he watched, a Death Eater appeared around the side of the pub, walking in the slow measured rhythm of someone on a beat. He quickly stepped back out of the way.

Ab returned five minutes later with a jug of mead and a steaming bowl of soup. Thoughts of poison flitted through Neville's head, but he was too hungry to care. He gulped it down, followed by bread and cheese. Ab had also brought a large satchel-like bag. 'There's more in there,' he explained gruffly. 'Can't risk coming back too often.'

'Thank you,' Neville wasn't sure what else to say.

Aberforth ignored his thanks. 'Best time to come is about now, late afternoon, after the lunchtime lot have gone, before the evening kicks off proper. You should be safe in this room, no one ever comes up here. I'll send Ariana,' he indicated the girl in the picture, 'to get you when it's safe. I can keep you in supplies of food and if I get to hear anything about what's going on outside, I can let you know.'

A sound of voices reached them from the bar below. 'You'd better get out of here, that'll be the first of the regulars.' Ab pulled open the portrait hole and handed the satchel over to Neville. 'Just don't do anything too stupid. Getting yourself killed isn't going to endear your fellow students to the cause,' he added as his parting shot. With that he swung the portrait shut.

The leader of the resistance turned and headed back towards Hogwarts.