Neville-
My family is an old one. Ancient and Noble even. And as with all families of supposedly noble disposition, we have a family motto.
Sanguis Primus.
Meaning blood first. Blood purity you'd think. An apt motto for a house of the sacred 28. Like the rest, our blood was 'pure', not tainted and wholly magical, that is if one ignored the secret muggle relations and family members who conveniently vanished once it was discovered.
No, we Longbottoms had never claimed our blood to be expressly pure, we had no issues with joining with muggles, yet it wasn't exactly celebrated if it happened. No, we were not the purest, that would be the Gaunts and inbreeding had beat them in the end.
Truly, the motto was meant to read family first. Those were the Longbottom values I was raised with. It was for that reason I was thrown into the sea in Blackpool, that I was held in a glass box without food and told to magic my way out, that I was dropped from the window… Because family came first.
I was the heir, the son to beloved Frank and cherished Alice. I needed to have magic. I couldn't be a failure.
I wasn't. Not these days. Not anymore.
Not thanks to Gran or Uncle. Not thanks to my blood, but because of the family that had found me. I was worth something now, I was valued as a precious friend and a brother.
But when Grandad had died, and I looked at Gran, all I could feel was the same uselessness and worthlessness from before Hogwarts. From before Harry.
The Longbottom family fell into disarray because I was born.
From that realisation sprung forth another emotion. A baleful and toxic creature with numerous red hot teeth. I felt the emotion in my stomach, hateful and angry, coursing through my veins. Hate for myself, hate for the world being so unfair as to take even more away from me and hate for them.
Still, Harry had managed to cool it. They were serving their sentences, being punished in Azkaban, that should've been enough for me. It might've been too, if I had never seen that paper.
"How was the meeting mate?"
There were certain responsibilities Harry had now as the voice of the British youth. Whilst he was not required to be present at every Wizengamot meeting, it was encouraged that he be aware of Britains political state.
The breakout was all anyone could talk about, all anyone wanted to talk about. If it had been anyone but her, I suppose I would have been much the same. Harry had left the hall with the headmaster, leaving a message with the ring saying they'd been summoned for an emergency meeting.
From the look on his face and the weary sigh he uses as a permeable, I know the answer to Ron's question can't be anything good.
"Exhausting." He begins, collapsing into the sofa beside Hermione. The flames from the fireplace paints his face a blazing orange, making his tiredness more apparent. "Mind numbing. Annoying. Pick your poison."
"Surely, there was something useful said." Hermione says, casting a privacy charm with a wave of her wand. The common room was mostly empty, but with the way rumours spread in this castle, it was an understandable precaution.
I'm sure the seventh years will appreciate it.
"After all the shouting and squabbling…" Harry grimaces, raising his head. "Dementors are to be stationed at Hogwarts."
"What?" Ron says, paling. Hermione is aghast, opening and closing her mouth like she doesn't know which question to ask first. I let the words pass over me and in their wake, all there is confusion.
Everyone knows Lestrange is dangerous but…
"Do they really think they'll come to Hogwarts? And why are they using Dementors in a place full of children? Don't they know how dangerous it could be?" Hermione says, having found her voice, gathering steam, standing up to pace whilst bombarding Harry with questions. "Surely Professor Dumbledore is against this?" She finishes, wringing her hands and looking around at us.
Harry sighs, nodding.
"He is." He sits up, bringing his wand to bare, meeting our eyes one by one. Hermione, Ron and then me. Hermione gives a sharp intake of breath, Ron stiffens and I begin to clear my mind—
"Not quick enough, but you're doing well. You'll get there."
Before I can ask him why, we begin to see. He shares a memory from the meeting with us, and as he begins to speak in our minds, different wizard locations blur past behind my eyelids.
The ministry. Hogwarts. Diagon Alley. Hogsmeade. Populated wizarding settlements all over Britain.
"They're scared. Not just of Bellatrix Lestrange—" I feel fresh hatred flush through me, coursing like acid through my veins at the mention of the woman "—no, they are terrified of Rookwood. He's a former unspeakable, he knows in the ins and outs of the ministry, it's workings and layout. They have no clue what he wants and what he will do next. He could go after Igor Karcaroff in Durmstrang, or he could be after me. He is dangerous, the Dark Lord's most useful servant before his capture, and also believed to be the architect of the breakout." For some reason Harry sounded doubtful of that last bit.
I feel him recede from my mind, shaking my head and blinking to get rid of the dizziness. Ron seems to be in the same situation as me, the only one seemingly unaffected is Hermione.
"Most of the Dementors have been moved from Azkaban to search for them.They are being stationed all over the country." Harry says, standing with his back to us, looking into the fireplace. "I'd rather none of us lose our souls whilst they're here with us."
He turns away from the flames, gracing us with a smile.
"Fortunately, there's a solution…"
Harry had been acting… strange. Ever since the emergency Wizengamot meeting, glances that he thought went unnoticed, a look about him as if he was deliberating something. His focus was elsewhere even whilst Hermione had led us around Hogsmeade.
"—And that is Madam Puddifoots. Lavander and Pavati were telling me about it before." She says, gesturing to the tea shop. "Shall we go in?"
I peer over her shoulder into the shop and am assaulted by pink. Pink everywhere, in a small, cramped space filled with tacky frills and lovey dovey couples all throughout.
I couldn't think of a worse place to be. Of course I wasn't going to tell Hermione that, that's what Ron was for.
"Oh God no." Hermione's face pinched up and instantly they were arguing. There was no need for me to intervene, Harry would eventually if it got too heated and most of the time it was less annoying and more amusing to watch them bicker. This one seemed to favour the latter.
"Enough." Harry says, cutting in before the argument can really get going. They stop. He crouches down and picks up a stone from the path. "I need your help. Are you in or shall I let you continue?"
"Of course mate." I answer for the three of us. Ron and Hermione meet my gaze, confused just as I am, but happy he asked us instead of just vanishing.
"Alright then." His wand meets the stone. "Portus." And the stone glows a soft blue.
I raise an eyebrow. Looking at the stone turned Portkey.
"I suppose we're going on a trip then," Ron begins to say, he shudders looking at couples getaway. "Anything is better than there." Hermione sniffs.
"Shut up Ronald." She says almost absentmindedly. She wraps her arm around Harry's, Ron and I place a hand on his shoulder, gripping tightly. "Harry… There's people around. They'll see us leave."
"Future us will deal with it." As soon as he says the words, there's a hooking of the navel and we're gone.
CRACK
We land sharply at the edge of a cliff. My eyes slam shut as I try and bear the nausea that always arises with portkeys. Apparition is always preferable in my opinion.
"Woah." Ron's voice drifts into my ears,slipping past the discomfort.
"It's… beautiful." I open my eyes, Hermione's murmured comment rings true.
We're standing on what seems like an amphitheater of rocks and stones overlooking the countryside. I hear the sound of rushing water and feel the cool breeze on my skin.
"Where are we?" Harry turns at my question.
"Malham cove. And it is beautiful yes, but that's not why we are here." He pull out his invisibility cloak from his pocket. "I need you guys to help me test something."
"What is it?" Hermione asks, eyes on the cloak, gleaming with undisguised curiosity. One that I shared also. Invisibility cloaks were meant to lose their power after a few years, but if this had been Harry's fathers… it'd be the most powerful cloak in the world. One of a kind. Like the fairy tale of the three brothers.
…
Hah! As if!
"You know this already," He brandishes the cloak. "but this cloak is special. It belonged to my father and his father and his father before him. It has been in my family for generations, ever since lolanthe Peverell married Hardwin Potter."
"What!?" I exclaim with Ron. Harry's amused, Hermione is looking at us strangely. Did she not hear him? Ron gets his bearings first. I can't take my eyes away from the cloak. The cloak.
"Are you… are you saying—"
"Yes. This is one of the Deathly Hallows."
"What is a Deathly Hallow?" Hermione asks, looking between the thee of us and the cloak, never satisfied with ignorance. "And what makes them so special?"
"How can you not—oh right. Muggleborn. Hmm, well…" Ron looks to me, unsure of where to begin. I'm about to speak, to summarise the main points of the children's tale. Harry must think that would have taken too long. He places a palm on her cheek and he meets his eyes with hers.
"Oh… Oh!" Somehow, her curiosity seems to have grown.
"It's special. More so than any other. From what I can see of it with my magic, it's like a void which both is and isn't there." He says, raking his eyes over it. "I believe it should allow someone to just slip through wards. If I'm right, and I observe it, I can figure out away to do the same without it. I needed someone else to set up the wards though, who's to say it doesn't only work because the wards are my own."
"Okay, I get you can see the magic," Ron says, getting close to it. He runs his hands through it, looking over it curiously. "But how did you come to the conclusion it would let you slip through wards?"
"There has to be more to it… In the story it's meant to be death's cloak right? Well death can go anywhere he pleases. Its longevity can't be its only special quality. Unless you think I'm wrong?" He asks, looking to each of us.
"It's also believed that if the Hallows are real, they were made by the Peverell brothers." I say. He nods his head, conceding.
"True. Even if it doesn't work, I'll see if I can figure it out. I can always just try breaking down the wards."
"I didn't take it you had an interest in warding or curse breaking." There's a question in Ron's tone. Harry is going to leave it unanswered. He has that look on his face as if he's about to do something dangerous. Hermione must see it too.
"Harry…" He sighs.
"Mate, what is this about?" Ron backs up, looking up from the cloak.
"We could have helped you with this at a different time. What's so important that we need to do this now?" I ask, he looks at me and something in those emerald eyes tell me I'm not going to like the answer.
"You might wanna sit down for this Nev."
"Huh? What are you—"
"Barty Crouch Jr is still alive."
We arrive with the soft snap of Apparition. A silent umbrella charm from Hermione keeps the rain away.
"I still think this is a very stupid idea." She says, twirling her wand in a figure eight above her head. As she finishes the gesture, warmth rushes in, pushing away the end of November chill.
"You didn't have to come." I reply, I move to match Harry's pace. From here I can see the manor up ahead. Not as gaudy as the Malfoys, but the Crouches are of the sacred 28 as well. They are well to do and from good stock, and so their home must reflect it.
The heat in my chest tightens painfully at the thought that Crouch was here, and not rotting in Azkaban like the rest of the scum.
"What, and let you two have all the fun?" Ron cuts in, nodding to Harry.
"This is serious Ronald!" Hermione hisses.
"You don't think I know that?"
"Well you're—"
"Stop. We're here." Harry says simply. He pulls away the blindfold.
We're still quite a distance away from the manor, but if we've stopped, this must be where the wards begin.
"This might take a minute since I'm doing it with you. Remember to hold on tight." We each grab on to him, he takes a deep steadying breath.
He brings his right hand up, placing it flat against the air, where I assume the wards to be. There's nothing for a few moments, then a feeling of being submerged in water as Harry's magic blankets over us. We step through the wards and face no resistance.
Still, we don't speak. He needs to concentrate, especially since he's bringing us with him. He matches his magic with the wards, fooling them into thinking we are not present.
"It's sort of like Legilimency." He had said, weeks ago, once he figured it out. "When it's a mind I'm familiar with, I'm able to change my form and magic to match so I'm completely undetectable unless I decide otherwise."
It was slow moving. But even so, every step on the wet grass brought us closer to him.
Barty Crouch Jr.
At the thought of his name and my ruined parents, the heat spreads. Unfurling into something poisonous, something lethal, something selfish. It's awakening brings memories of the life I've had to live, all of the pain, sadness and humiliation. All of it. Because of him.
Harry touches his wand to the front door, it turns to ash. We step through, still making sure to keep in contact with Harry lest we inform the wards of our presence.
"Where is he being kept?" I ask, surprising myself at the calmness in my voice.
"The cellar." Harry responds, he leads us past the drawing room, heading for the stairs. He knows this place like the back of his hand, though that is to be expected.
"H-how can you be sure he's alive?" I asked him, after his proclamation of Jr's continued existence.
"At the meeting, Crouch Sr was looking at me strangely. I got curious. I assumed it was just the usual Boy Who Lived worship. When I gleaned his surface thoughts, there was some of that, yes. But there was something else too. I went deeper, bypassing his frail Occlumency. When he looked at me, he thought of the end of the war. He thought of his son. Not dead in Azkaban, as he would have us believe. But held in their Manor, under the Imperius curse—yes, but still living a much better life than he deserves."
As we are about to head down the steps, there's a popping sound from behind. I flinch but I make sure not to let go of Harry. Hermione and Ron do the same. Harry turns completely unperturbed.
"Intruders! Intru—" The house elf Harry had mentioned. Winky, I think her name was, begins to scream. I bring my wand up to stun her before she can go get Barty Sr from the ministry or any Aurors. It is not needed.
"Winky." Harry calls out. He looks at her and says a simple word. A command. Four letters. "Fall." She collapses, all strings cut.
"Harry!" Hermione screeches, turning to face him, incensed he would hurt a house elf.
"She's fine. Just unconscious." He takes a deep breath, ensuring everything is alright with the wards and the magic. "Restrain her. She's an elf, their magic is… different. She'll wake soon."
I turn, keeping my left hand on Harry's shoulder, and pull out two seeds from my pocket. I throw them into the air, a silent Herbivicus charm forces them to grow. They sprout vines and launch themselves at winky, wrapping around her.
If she wakes, and tries to resist, they'll wrap tighter and sprout more vines, sapping her strength away and using that to grow even stronger. Plants of my own creation, not perfected yet, without the Herbivicus charm, they wouldn't grow. Or atleast the growth was so slow it may aswell be pointless. Still, the Sapvines, I decided to call them, did their job.
"Bring her." Harry says. Ron levitates her and brings her down the steps with us.
We enter the cellar, it's well kept and nothing at all like I expect. Some part of me hoped Jr would be in chains still, but no. He sits in a simple sofa with Pajamas on, by his side milk and cookies, half eaten.
This must be a joke.
Barty Crouch Jr is pale. He hasn't seen sunlight in years. That is the only thing about his appearance I can take pleasure in. The rest of him is painfully normal, not the monster that I wanted him to be, not the demon in the night I had been building in my head since I was a small boy. No, he is just a man.
He stares blankly into space, eyes glazed over with the telltale sign of the Imperius curse, atleast when the victim has not been given a command.
Harry comes to a stop before him. Still as a statue. Staring. Reading his mind. They are like that for minutes.
As I stare at him, I feel the creature grow hungry, the anger in my gut continues to build.
"I've got everything." Harry says, coming back to himself.
"Good." I step around him, making sure I'm always in contact with some part of him. This whole thing would have been easier with the cloak, but its ability to bypass wards only works when Harry wears it. Something about his Peverell blood.
I raise my wand—
"Neville? What are you—" I turn to Hermione, she see the look in my eyes. "You're going to kill him!?"
"Honestly, Hermione. Why did you think we were here? What… you don't think he should be dead?" Ron asks, looking at her queerly from Harry's other side.
"What? He's a death eater. It's not about that, it's—" She interrupted by a gasp and Winky returns to the land of the living.
"Ron." Is all Harry needs to say.
"I got it." He builds himself up and snaps the command out with all the force he can muster.
"Imperio."
Winky falls still. Hermione looks pained, Harry shakes his head and she sighs. She continues where she left off.
"I thought we were going to take him to the ministry. To the Aurors and Madam Bones. To expose him."
"And how would we explain how we knew he was here? The breaking and entering?—"
"Technically, we haven't broken anything—"I pay Ron's interruption no mind.
"—The unforgivable Ron just cast?" Hermione goes to answer. Harry doesn't let her.
"This was how it was always going to go. The ministry is corrupt, filled to the brim with 'former' death eaters. Even some of the non death eaters are corrupt as we can see with Sr. They are also in need of a win after the breakout. They would just cover it up. This would be too big of a scandal. But it's not really about the ministry. I don't care about them. It's a simple calculus, we can kill two bids with one stone this way."
"How?" She asks.
"I placed Crouch Sr under the Imperius curse three weeks ago after the meeting." The words slide over me. I feel nothing. I focus on Occlumency, restraining myself from just killing Jr. "He is at the ministry acting as normal. Jr dies and we'll frame it as an attack from Lestrange and Rookwood. As if they were upset Jr got to escape because of daddy. As if they were angered that they had to suffer whilst Jr was here, free. That'll put fear into the rest of the death eaters who even think of helping them. They might be next. It'll confuse Rookwood and Lestrange. And it removes another of Voldemort's followers."
There's silence for a moment.
"You've thought a lot about this." Hermione says eventually.
"Of course."
"And this isn't just for revenge?"
"Yes." "No." I blink, having heard Harry's disagreement overlap with my yes.
"No. Neville, if we do this, it can't be for revenge." I turn to face him, unsure of what I'm hearing. "If you kill him for revenge, you won't be satisfied. Yes he will be dead, but it'll be a hollow victory. The pain will remain. You'll be no better off."
"T-then what? What do you want me to do? He has to die! He needs to die." The words force themselves from my lips.
"I don't disagree. And he will. He dies tonight. But not for revenge, not for something so… pale but because he is an obstacle in the path to the life we want. In the future we desire." He looks at me and I see. I see the life he wants for all of us. "Don't kill him for revenge. Kill him for the dream."
I see that in his own way he's trying to take the blame of this murder away from me. Murder, because that is what this is. He won't stop me. I want this. I want him dead for all he's done. Harry won't take this chance away from me, he's my brother. But he wants what's best for me. He doesn't want this to crush me, so he is giving me a reason to do it. And trying to take all the responsibility, all the weight because it is his dream, the one he has shared with us, that I would be killing for. I feel a surge of affection.
Hermione still seems a tad unsure. He looks into her eyes.
She softens. "He is in the way Hermione." She hardens.
"You can't do it Neville." I sigh, looking to Ron. What is with you all? He gives a small knowing smile. It lacks the amusement it should have. Where we are and the topic has robbed it from him. He's unusually serious. "Not alone anyway. It'd be a tad hypocritical. After all the flack we gave Harry… No." He can't mean…
"Together." He says, looking to Harry and Hermione. "Together." They repeat with him.
We come closer together pointing our wands at prisoner in his own home, making sure to be touching Harry in some way.
"If you're controlling Sr, that means you're controlling him as well right?"
"Yes." Harry answers, tilting his head, curious.
"I want to say something to him. I want him to see me as I do it."
"You have to mean it Nev." He says, giving me a chance to back out. I don't respond.
He releases the Imperius curse. As Crouch Jr groggily gets his bearings, Hermione casts a sticking charm, making him unable to move from the chair.
He looks up, cataloging our faces. Once he reaches mine, there is the beginning of recognition. I speak then.
"My name is Neville Longbottom. Son of Frank. Son of Alice. Brother of Harry." The recognition is clear now, still he says nothing, letting me speak. "You have wronged me. You have wronged my family. You have pissed on the Longbottom name, desecrating our honour, I reclaim it now."
"Lad, I couldn't give a toss about you or your parents. All we cared about was finding the Dark Lord. Your blood traitor parents were just in the way." He licks his lips in a serpentine manner. Revulsion blooms in my stomach. He spits at my feet. "You want your honour back? Give me a wand and duel me. Beat me. Kill me fairly. Our blood is Pure, let us do this like men, not animals." Even though it is obvious bait, like a hungry fish, I consider it. Harry and Ron will go along with it if I want. Hermione however…
"Neville…" She taps her wrist, as if gesturing to an imaginary watch.
Ah the time turners, we don't have long until we return to when our past selves used them.
I take a deep breath, centring myself and focus my intent. The fiery creature roars out in agreement. The tip of my cheery wand glows a sickly green. Crouch has seen the decision on our faces.
A part of me, sick and twisted, whispers that I should cast the Cruciatus on him. To make him feel what my parents felt.
We're framing the death eaters right? They use that spell…
I'm instantly hit with nausea. No! I won't use that. Not after what it's done to my family. I won't be like them. It would serve no purpose, he just needs to die.
Three more wands light up a sickly green.
Crouch sneers at our wands. "No honor"
"No time."
Four flashes of light illuminate the cellar a viridescent green and my magic sings.
"I've edited her memory, command her to confess everything to the Aurors. Crouch and his wife helping their son escape, jr being held in the house all these years and then tonight, Bellatrix Lestrange and Augustus Rookwood killing Barty for denouncing their master." Ron nods. "I'll have Crouch confess once they bring him in for questioning."
"Harry we need to be quick, we're about to use the time turners to go back. When past us disappear, we need to be back there." Hermione says.
"I know, stay close to me, I'm about to bring the wards down." He takes a deep breath, a few paces away from where the wards begin, facing the manor which holds Barty.
I had been somewhat out of it since the cellar. Harry was right, the pain was still there. Revenge alone would have solved nothing. But atleast I know I'm making a difference, step by step we approach the end we desire.
Harry breathes and there is heat.
A wave of hungry fire erupts from his wand. Coalescing and taking shape, numerous fantastic beasts are created, made entirely of red hot flames. A Phoenix rises and attempts to take off towards Hermione, it is crushed ruthlessly before it can get near.
Fiendfyre…
He shapes it, causing it to take the form of a dragon with four wings. It bares its fiery maw at him, wiping hot air all around with its wings. Harry is unimpressed. The dragon wimpers, lowering his head submission and takes off, flying high into the night sky, evaporating all the rain in its path. Flames continue to pour out from his wand, burning white hot in the centre, hissing with other worldly rage. The Basilisk that forms is as big as Salazars very own, by its side a Chimera of beasts takes shape.
He pours out more magic, fueling their hunger, the flames continue to grow. There's a sun in the night sky, the Dragon evicts itself from the heavens, darting straight for the top of the wards from above. Harry waits until it's about to make contact, then and only then, does he let the Basilisk and Chimera crash against the wards.
The Dragon crashes into the defensive wards almost dead centre and explodes into multitude of beasts. The Chimera and Basilisk do the same right in front of us. For the first time I see the wards clearly as they light up in a range of colours, struggling to hold against such powerful magic. There's a crashing sound, like the shattering of glass, and the wards collapse.
A shockwave nearly knocks me off my feet. Ron, though feeling it also, steadies me with a hand.
Before the fire can reach the house, Harry rears up and slashes his wand. The flames die with a shriek and a bright flare, leaving only silence and the sharp stench of ozone.
I see the same awe in my breast reflected in Hermione and Ron's face.
He is Harry Potter. That should be explanation enough.
Even still, I can't wrap my head around it. Fiendfyre at 13. Something older wizards couldn't even hope to cast let alone control…
"Ron."
"…Er right. Got it." He releases Winky, sending her back to the house.
"Grab on, we're going to apparate a few times, don't want to risk us being tracked." He raises his wand to the sky, and utters a word that hasn't been used in over a decade.
"Morsmorde."
The sky lights up green, the dark mark hangs there menacingly. He turns and we disapparate, leaving behind Crouch manor with a crack.
I cannot see the future, but I don't have to. I know that as long as I'm with Harry, with my family, these people who have accepted me, cherished me, loved me, anything is possible