Inell's Fanfiction Archive

It’s October before things start to change at Hogwarts.

For the first month since returning for his seventh year, Neville is quiet and hurries through the halls without looking at anyone. Hogwarts is a different place now, a dangerous place, and it’s not wise to be noticed. He’s already on whatever bad list Snape (he’ll never be Headmaster to Neville) probably keeps, considering his closeness with Harry and his participation in a couple of battles. It’s enough, and he doesn’t want to add more to that list. Not now when Harry and the others are gone, when the castle is no longer a safe haven but more like a nightmarish version of hell.

Everyone’s scared. Even a lot of the Slytherins hide in the library or stay in their common room. They don’t speak to anyone else, of course, but Neville’s not stupid. He sees the fear in some of them as they watch the Carrows cackle and twirl their wands. Those two will never be worthy of the title of Professor, and he’s avoided calling them that since the first day of school. Ma’am and sir are sufficient to avoid a hex, and, as Seamus found out, ‘you bloody bitch’ isn’t respectful enough.

Seamus is a half-blood, though, so he’s already on their bad side. The purebloods have more leniency, because He Who Must Not Be Named doesn’t want their blood spilled unless necessary. The others are more open for attack, and Neville hates himself for being relieved that his blood is pure. It’s such a cowardly thought, one unworthy of himself, but these times have made him feel so powerless that he can’t help it.

It’s just so quiet now. So many students are gone. He hopes they’re hiding despite knowing many were ‘removed from the population’ by agents working for the Ministry. They don’t get much information from the outside world, but the Daily Prophet is allowed reading material, even if it is full of the lies and propaganda that Hermione once explained to him. People will read it and want to believe, even if they know it’s not true, and then they’re content to turn a blind eye. He understands that better now, even if he’s ashamed that it came from personal experience. She’d be so disappointed in him, he knows, as would Harry and Ron.

A couple of weeks after classes start, Luna corners him in the library and shows him the DA coin. She looks so hopeful that he feels terrible for shaking his head no and hissing that she needs to hide that now. When he sees her and Ginny whispering together a few days later, he looks away and ignores them when they stare at him. It’s too dangerous, even more than before, and they don’t have Harry or the others, the stronger ones, so he’s trying to discourage the girls before they do something that might get them hurt.

It isn’t until one afternoon in Muggle Studies, which is even worse than Defense, in his opinion, that he finally accepts the inevitable. He might be cowardly and want to avoid attention, but he’s no longer a scared little boy. He can’t just sit passively and listen to the nonsense spewing from Carrow’s mouth as Muggles are discussed as being lower than House Elves and ridiculous accusations of stealing magic are made.

“The smartest person I’ve ever met is a Muggleborn,” he says loudly, surprised that his voice is firm and doesn’t waver even as he feels fear knot in the pit of his stomach. Carrow turns her attention to him and scowls, fingering her wand as she stares at him. He squares his shoulders and doesn’t look away. “She’s never stolen magic from anyone. She’s clever and talented, and she helped me pass more classes that I care to admit. All you’re doing is lying because she’s better than you’ll ever be.”

He hears Seamus cursing beneath his breath before his voice joins in, calling the lecture lies and talking about Dean, who’s more of a wizard than either of the Carrows. Several other voices murmur quietly and begin to speak up. Carrow is glaring now, and Neville feels like a weight has lifted off his shoulders. There’s not much they can do, not being stuck here in this hell, but maybe they can be strong and try to make a difference. Hope is important, after all. As long as Harry and the others are out there, the least they can do is keep their hope alive and have faith.

The curse that strikes him hurts worse than just about anything he’s ever experienced, but he doesn’t scream or cry out. The Carrows like the screams, he knows, and the last thing he wants to do is give them something they want. Instead, he smiles as best he can and waits until she tires of cursing him before he collapses in his desk. With a shaky hand, he reaches into the pocket of his robe and closes his hand around the DA’s galleon. It’s finally time to stop hiding and stand up for everything they believe.

End