章 113: Don't Die
Neville opened the door into the kitchens. He was immediately greeted by a wall of noise, generated by hundreds of house-elves running about.
"Wow," he breathed.
Neville watched the commotion, mesmerized by the coordinated work all around him. After a moment, he snapped back to reality and remembered why he was there.
He looked around for Luna, spotting her next to one of the stoves.
Her hair was up in a disorganized bun, her sleeves were rolled up, and she was busy stirring a pot under the watchful eye of one of the house-elves.
"How's that?" she asked, offering a spoon of what she was making to the elf. She carefully held her hand under the spoon as the elf tested it.
"Splendid, Miss Luna," the elf said.
"Luna?"
Luna turned to Neville and smiled at him.
"Salutations, Toad." Luna turned back to the house-elf watching her cook. "Barda, would you please keep an eye on it for me?"
"Barda would be happy to be helping Miss Luna," the elf replied. "Shall Barda be bringing it in for Miss Luna when it is being ready?"
"Yes, please." Luna stepped off her stool and let Barda take over cooking.
"Why are we meeting here?" Neville asked.
He stepped out of the way of a house-elf as it rushed by with a stack of plates.
"It's out of the way," Luna replied. "Only Professor Dumbledore comes down here." She motioned for him to follow her. "Also, I wanted to practice cooking, and Barda always helps me."
"What were you making?"
"Marinara sauce," she replied. "I thought spaghetti sounded good, so I came down here and asked Barda if she'd let me cook some."
"Can't they just do it?"
"So can I."
She led him through the kitchens into a large room with five large, wooden tables. House-elves were already placing food on them, Neville assumed in preparation for dinner. Luna walked around the house-elves to sit at the table on one end of the room, which sat on an elevated platform.
"They're laid out the same as the Great Hall," Neville said.
"Yup," Luna replied as she took Professor Dumbledore's seat at the head table. "Dripty showed me last year."
"Why?"
"I asked."
Neville nodded, then sat down in Professor McGonagall's seat next to Luna.
"Now that we're alone, how'd last night go?" Neville asked.
"I've got detention with Umbridge starting tomorrow," Luna replied. "I think I'm getting close to something. Tutela and I think we were close with her office, but we didn't have enough time to search it completely. Not for hidden doors or anything. I think I want to figure out a way to use prying eyes or spontaneous search next time."
"Won't she guard her office better?"
Luna shook her head. "I doubt it. She didn't catch us inside, and we were careful when looking around. All we found was something that looked like veritaserum."
"Why would she keep that in her office?"
Luna shrugged. "I don't know, but I thought it was worth noting." She frowned for a moment, then added, "Also, someone told her about the investigation."
"What? Who?"
"I don't know yet. She told me last night that someone told her, but that was all."
Neville nodded. He turned his gaze to the rest of the room when Luna didn't say anything else.
"Where'd you learn to cook?" Neville asked.
"At home."
Neville nodded to show he was paying attention, but he knew that he'd get nothing else from Luna. It was just her; she didn't offer much information about herself. They'd been friends for years, and he didn't know much about her. He knew plenty about the Quibbler, her dad's theories, and various animals that might've been made up, but not much about her.
"Some days, Daddy didn't feel up to cooking," Luna said. "Especially… especially right after Mummy died. So I learned to cook so he didn't always have to." Luna frowned. "He's been like that a lot lately. I think he misses Rose."
At the mention of Rose, Neville wanted to curl up and hide. It still hurt knowing he'd never see Rose again. Her laugh, her stupid grin that was too optimistic for anyone… he'd never see any of it again. Rose was gone.
The sound of soft sobbing knocked him out of his stupor, and he turned to Luna. Sure enough, she was the source of the sobs.
Forgetting about himself for a moment, he put his arm around Luna. She rested her head on his shoulder, startling him.
"It's alright," he whispered. "Just… just keep crying until you feel better."
They sat in relative silence, the only sounds coming from either the house-elves or Luna. Neville slowly reached up his hand and stroked Luna's hair, just as Rose had done for him a year ago.
"Rose did this for me last year," Neville whispered. "I… I was scared I was going to die, but she helped me through it. I'd be dead if it hadn't been for her."
"I miss her," Luna sobbed quietly. "I miss my big sister."
Neville nodded, fighting the urge to cry himself.
"I… I miss her, too."
The clatter of porcelain on wood startled them both. When they looked to the table, they saw a piece of chocolate cake had been placed in front of each of them. Behind the cake, Dripty winked at them.
"There is being some leftovers," he whispered. "No one will be minding if Ms. Luna and Mr. Neville are eating some."
Neville wiped a tear from his eye. "Are you sure?"
Dripty nodded, then ran off to help with the preparations for dinner.
Neville turned back to Luna and saw that her sad, crooked smile had returned to her face.
"Feeling better?" Neville asked.
Luna directed her smile at him, and for the first time in three months, he didn't miss Rose so much. It felt good having someone to talk to about Rose. Someone that missed Rose just as much as he did.
"I am now."
The next morning, Neville went straight for the Ravenclaw table. He didn't know what Umbridge was doing, but Hermione's vague answer of "she made me write lines" didn't sit well with him. Listening to his instincts was one of many skills he'd learned over the past year.
"How'd detention go last night?" Neville asked.
"She tried to frighten me, but that just means we're getting closer," Luna said.
Neville smiled at Luna's optimism. He never understood how she could always be so positive after everything she'd been through. Taking a scone from the plates in front of him, he happened to glance at her hand.
"What happened to your hand?" he asked.
"Oh." Luna smiled, nearly laughing at her own absentmindedness. "Of course. The quill Umbridge had me use gets its ink by etching the words into the writer's hand."
Neville stopped midway through putting his scone in his mouth. He stared at her, slowly returning the food to his plate.
"It what?" he asked.
"When you write with it, the words are cut into your hand," Luna said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. She took a bite of scone before continuing. "Makes sense for a vampire to use something like that."
Many thoughts entered Neville's head at once. He thought about Luna, crying as she was forced to torture herself. He thought of Rose returning the favor to Umbridge with Crimson Thorn, and, for a split second, wondered if he could do the same. Through this, another idea occurred to him: Hermione had had detention with Umbridge, and now she wore gloves.
"Well, now we know why Hermione started wearing gloves," Neville muttered. He leaned over the table. "Next time, leave the sneaking around to me. I've got loads of practice."
Luna looked down and nodded.
"I just wanted to help," she said.
"It's fine," Neville said, hoping to cheer her up. "You found veritaserum in her office. That's got to be worth something."
A weaker smile returned to her face, but he could tell something was still wrong.
Umbridge is going to pay for this.
After breakfast, Neville caught Hermione on her way to class.
"I know why you're wearing those gloves," he said as they walked.
"Just my way of paying tribute to Rose," Hermione said.
"So Umbridge making you write lines with your own blood is just a coincidence?"
Hermione stopped talking. A few moments later, she grabbed him and pulled him inside an empty classroom.
"Who told you?"
"Luna, after Umbridge made her do the same thing."
Hermione and Neville glared at one another, each one silently figuring out what to do next. At least, that was what Neville was doing; he assumed Hermione was doing the same.
"We should tell someone," Neville said at last.
Hermione shook her head.
"The other professors can't do anything. Professors Vector and McGonagall already tried."
"Then we've got to do something," Neville said. "It's Rose's little sister. Umbridge can't get away with it."
"Last time I took matters into my own hands was at the World Cup," Hermione said. "Not a great idea."
Neville scowled, then an idea struck him.
"Luna and I were digging up dirt on Umbridge. Luna thinks Fudge is a vampire, so–"
"What? Why?"
Neville gave her a quick explanation, aware that they both needed to get to class. When he finished, they both started back off to class.
"That is odd," Hermione said, their conversation masked by doublespeak. "Keep digging and let me know if you find something. Harry and I are going to start a club to help other people learn defence."
"That'd help Luna a lot," Neville said. "She's not that good at it."
"Actually, I was thinking we could use your help. You've got more experience than anyone."
"Thanks, but putting people through what Rose put me might be a bit much."
"Not like that, just helping people use the skills we teach them."
Neville gave it a moment's thought, but quickly realized he had to decline.
"Right now, I'd rather keep an eye on Luna. She's having a hard time without Rose, and Rose would want someone looking out for her."
Hermione nodded.
"Why don't you help me, then I'll help the others? That way, we'll have two experienced fighters on our side, and we can both look out for Luna." Hermione grinned. "Rose was my best friend too."
That made sense. Two people looking out for Luna were better than one. Thinking about it, Neville knew Hermione wasn't ready to protect Luna yet. Only he was ready for it. People like Umbridge were still lurking in the shadows, and Neville couldn't get the image of Luna crying out of his head.
"You've got a deal," Neville said.
"Kethé," Hermione said, bringing a smile to Neville's lips. "Come on. If we don't hurry, we're going to be late for class."
That night, minutes after Ron and Sally-Anne left for their rounds, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville gathered in the common room. They filled each other in about what they knew about Umbridge, and about their plans for a club.
"I still can't believe she's allowed to get away with that," Ginny said. "If I started telling lies about her, Mum would have my head."
"We can't just go in and fight her," Harry said. "As much as we'd all love to, Alavel thinks we should at least start by helping other students learn what Umbridge won't teach them."
"I think we're all aware how dangerous the world is out there," Neville added.
"The Ministry wants us to keep believing we're at peace, but it's not peaceful all the time," Hermione said. "Pretending for a moment that Voldemort hasn't returned, there was an attack on the World Cup last year. The Ministry's mad if it thinks nothing's wrong with this country. People need to know how to defend themselves, and all the theory in the plane is worthless if you can't apply it properly."
"So you're going to teach us?" Ginny asked.
"Harry is. He's better at teaching than I am. I can soak up information, but I can't explain it well. Neville, you're probably going to be a punching bag for most of it."
"I learned how to take hits last year, I think I'll manage. What about Ron and Sally-Anne?"
"What about them?" Harry asked. "Obviously, they'll—"
"Absolutely not," Hermione said.
Her companions turned to her in shock.
"What?" Harry asked. "We can't—"
"It's not about including them or not, it's about what's at stake. There's no way Umbridge will approve of this, even if it is within the rules. She can change the rules however she wants, and no one can stop her. If she finds out what we're doing, she'll make it against the rules, and it won't matter what we say. As the ringleaders, we'll take the most heat for it."
"'We could all be killed'," Harry said in a high-pitched voice, "'or worse, expelled'."
"Shut up," Hermione snapped as Ginny snickered. "We'll be lucky if all she does is expel us. She held me for a few hours each night, never mind what she's doing to Luna."
At the mention of Luna, Neville's face grew noticeably darker. Hermione knew how he felt; it infuriated her to no end that Umbridge was allowed to torture students like that.
"She can hold us for as long as she wants, using whatever punishment she feels like using. Sally-Anne and Ron are prefects, and both of them are proud of that. If they're involved in this, they might as well kiss that goodbye right now."
Hermione sat in silence while she allowed her friends to take in what she'd said. She hated leaving them out; both Ron and Sally-Anne were good with people, and could be great teachers and leaders. But it wasn't their fight.
"So we're just supposed to split the party?" Neville asked. "Keep them in the dark?"
"It's for their own good. Rose has done the same for us loads of times."
She knew bringing up Rose would silence Neville and Ginny. When she turned her attention to Harry, she found no argument from him either.
"If you think that's best," he said, meeting her gaze for a moment.
"What do we call it?" Neville asked.
"We could call it 'Dumbledore's Army'," Ginny said, laughing, "just to mess with the Ministry."
"That's just asking for trouble," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Besides, this isn't an army, it's a resistance."
They offered a few more suggestions, while Hermione started thinking of better ones. What would Rose have called it?
Brain, I need a fancy word for protector!
I just asked Sk'lar for a big word for messenger.
"What about Insurrection?" Hermione offered.
"The Crimson Insurrection," Neville added.
"That!" Ginny exclaimed, pointing excitedly at Neville. "Let's do that!" She turned to Harry and Hermione. "Please!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry started laughing. Ginny glared at him.
"What?! You got a problem, Skyeyes?"
"No, I was just thinking about how you used to squeal and run away from me," he said. "You'd never know it now."
Ginny flashed a grin that almost reminded Hermione of Rose.
"I'm alright with calling it the Crimson Insurrection," Hermione said. "Harry, you?"
"CI for short," he said.
"Kethé. I know a few charms I can use to ensure no one talks about it or mentions it to anyone. They'll all need to know for what they're signing up."
"You already know the first rule of survival," Neville said. "Rose told it to all of us."
"Stay alive," Hermione replied. "Sure."
"That could mean a lot of things," Neville said. "Being faster, stronger, or just better than your opponents. Remember, the real world is hardly fair."
"World Cup." Hermione sighed. "Look, I've already got all the information in my head. Pure theory, despite what Umbridge thinks, isn't enough in the real world."
"You're right, it's not," Neville said. "So let's start practicing."
With no further warning, he flung the sword at her. She didn't even remember seeing him draw it, giving her only a second to prepare herself for his attack.
Hermione raised her hand.
THWAP!
Hermione recoiled as the butt of the sword slammed into her hand. She nursed a swollen hand concealed by her glove.
It wasn't like Professor Snape throwing a curse at Harry. She didn't know much defensive magic, only how to counter magic. Against Neville, she couldn't do much.
"It's different fighting an opponent that doesn't use magic, isn't it?" Neville asked as the sword returned to his hand. "Trust me, the Forbidden Forest is full of them."
"So I've heard," Hermione said, rubbing her hand. "Thanks for not taking my arm off."
"You're welcome." He held the sword up again, then hurled it at Hermione.
This time, Hermione focused on her next move. Her mind ran a marathon to find a spell for defence, then stopped on the Shield Charm. Not as reliable as the Shield Rune, but good enough to block a flying sword. Then came the easy part: working out how to cast it wandlessly. She derived the Arithmantic equation for the spell, accounting for her body.
Hermione raised her hand and began to work through the incantation and hand movements.
THWAP!
Hermione recoiled again as the sword butt struck her hand.
"How'd you do that?" Hermione asked, nursing another bruise on her hand. "How do you know where I'm going to be?"
"I don't, but I know it won't be far from where I aim," Neville replied. "You can think as fast as you like, but I often know what I'm going to do before my body's finished working through it. I figure it's got to be that times a thousand for you, but I also know you ran in at the World Cup thinking you knew what you were doing. That means you're arrogant, but you don't realize you can't act as fast as you think. So you'll work out a spell mid-combat to show off, and forget that you can't cast it in time."
Hermione let her mouth hang open.
"What?"
"Your body can't–"
"I know that bit!" Hermione snapped. "How'd you work all that out?"
"Ever try to outrun a centaur?"
"You can't, they've got–"
"Four legs, I noticed. I tried once, then realized it wasn't possible. After a few near-death experiences with them, I started asking myself 'What else don't I know?', and made a list. From then on, I made it a point to work out my opponent's strengths and weaknesses as fast as I could."
Hermione continued to let her mouth hang open as it sunk in how much better Neville was than the rest of them. She'd known it before, but never quite on the magnitude she'd just seen.
"Have you got the spell in your head now?"
Hermione returned to reality and thought about the spell she'd tried.
"Erm–"
"Good!"
THWAP!
The answer to Neville's question was "No".
He's worse than Rose.
"Ever hear the phrase 'Know your enemy'?" Neville asked.
"Yeah," Hermione said, still determined to show as little pain as possible.
"Taltria taught me a better one: Know your own weaknesses, and be prepared for them to be used against you."
Hermione took a moment to think about it. A moment, which was all the time it took for her to realize Neville wasn't moving. She narrowed her eyes at him, sensing some sort of trap.
"Nice try."
"Oh good, you're learning."
"Great!" Hermione huffed. "Just as condescending as Rose."
"She taught me too," Neville replied, faint traces of a smirk forming on his face.
Neville's smirk brought with it thoughts of Umbridge. Hermione's narrowed eyes turned into a glare.
"Stop that."
"Make me," Neville shot back. "You're rubbish at defence, so let's see how you are on offence."
Hermione sorted through her mental catalog of spells. She needed one he'd never expect; something no one would expect.
"You're already too slow," Neville said. "I'm prepared for anything you throw out."
Oh, really?
Hermione pointed at the ground.
"Crosa!"
Neville's sword was buried in the wall after the first syllable, and he was gone before the spell took effect.
Hermione's head darted to her right, just in time to put her hands up to defend herself against an incoming sword.
"Come on!" she shouted.
"Rose wouldn't have gone easy on you either," Neville said. "She stuck me inside the Forbidden Forest the day after I was chosen as a champion. The Centaurs held me hostage for hours without food or water. If you want to learn, stop whining about it and learn!"
"Now you just sound like Professor Snape!" she shot back.
"Good. I'd take him over a hack like Professor Vector any day."
Hermione's vision went red, and she flung her hand out. She didn't have a spell in mind, although she had a vague idea of what she wanted to do to Neville.
The air around him shimmered with a familiar light, and he dove out of the blast zone a second before a single spark appeared inside.
The blast Hermione created sent shockwaves through the Room of Requirement, knocking her off her feet. She braced herself for the impending impact against the back wall, but it never came. Instead, she landed against something distinctly Neville-shaped that grabbed her and put her down.
"Don't you–" she shouted, struggling against him. "If you ever say something like that again, I'll–"
"I didn't mean it," Neville said. "I just wanted you to stop taking it easy on me."
"Taking it easy on you?!" Hermione exclaimed, breaking free from Neville's grasp. "Taking it easy on you?! Who said I was–"
"That was the spell you made for the Basilisk," Neville said. "Which means you could've thrown something that powerful at me anytime. So why didn't you? Why'd you use the quicksand instead?"
"I don't know!" Hermione screamed.
Hermione turned around and stormed over to the door.
"If you're afraid, then–"
"I'm not afraid!" She spun around in place and stormed back over to Neville.
"Really? It sure seems like it. Between the way you are in practice, to the way you are in class. You never mess up a spell, but you've been doing it all the time. You hesitate. I know; I look for that in other people now. It's the best way to find out where a person's weakest, and it says volumes about them."
Hermione turned around again and stormed back to the door. She didn't have a plan going forward, but she knew she'd think of one. She was easily clever enough to figure out a way to practice on her own. Taltria or Alavel could teach her, or Professor Dumbledore, or Professor Vector, or someone other than Neville. Anyone other than Neville would be fine.
"If I noticed, how long is it going to take Umbridge to notice?"
Hermione froze in place.
"That's what I meant about 'be prepared for your weaknesses to be used against you'," Neville said. "If you can't admit you're in trouble, you'll never get out of it."
Hermione turned around again, feeling a little dizzy now that she had.
"That sounds like Rose."
"Alavel, actually."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm just trying to help you, like you asked. If you'd rather do this with someone else, that's fine. I know we're not that close, but I won't try to hurt you with what I know. I promise, but if it's still a problem and Umbridge finds out, then we're all in trouble, because we need you, Brain."
Hermione thought of Rose, and how she'd been manipulated in their third year by Sylvia. How her fear could've been used against her. From what Hermione had gathered about Sylvia, she considered Rose a friend. If that's what she'd do to Rose, Hermione could only imagine what Umbridge would do if she got the chance. If she realized what Hermione was going through, she'd turn it all against her.
"I… I'm afraid that if I think too hard, I'll lose control of my magic again," Hermione said. "Or pass out, or hallucinate. I'm afraid."
Neville nodded.
"You could always take up sword-fighting instead," he offered, holding up the Sword of Gryffindor.
Hermione punched him in the arm.
"There, I hit you," she said as he laughed. "Are we done for the day?"
"We're done whenever you want to be done," Neville replied. "That's what Rose told me, but I never gave up. Although, I promise not to put you in the Nightmare Scenario."
"The what?"
Neville shook his head. "You really don't want to know." He took a few steps back and held his sword at the ready. "Ready to go again?"
All it took was a moment's thought of Rose for Hermione to nod her head.
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