Prologue
‘Dumbledore’s Army!’
‘Dumbledore’s Army!’ Replied Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna, raising their glasses of warm Firewhisky up to Harry’s. Even now, twenty years after Dumbledore’s own death, the name had stuck fittingly with the six friends, who still met up every Sunday to go to Hogsmeade together, discussed their respective weeks and kept Aberforth Dumbledore in business by eating and drinking as much of the Hog’s Head’s stock as they could between them.
It was a good catch-up which was enjoyed by each of the companions, and this week was no exception. Luna had let the others croon over her one-year-old twin boys, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander. Lily and Hugo, the youngest children of the Potters and Weasleys, had harassed Neville endlessly about how their older siblings were doing in school before being allowed to look around the Hogsmeade revision of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes (kept by Dennis Creevey) for a while. Harry and Ron, now world-renowned Aurors, had joked and bragged about the latest captured Dark Wizard, a Frenchman named Jean Gordeaux.
After the DA battle cry, as time drew their Hog’s Head lunch closer and closer to a Hog’s Head dinner, the conversation had somehow turned into a heated debate as to what Ginny’s fourth child, expected to be born the coming July, would be called.
‘Personally, I don’t see why the two boys you’ve already got aren’t called Ronald,’ Ron noted, taking another swig of his Firewhisky.
‘Ron’s taken, if you hadn’t noticed, and we hardly want another one,’ Ginny retorted. ‘We don’t even know if it’s a boy.’
‘And if it is,’ Harry added, ‘He’ll be called Remus. Or Alastor.’
‘Remus? Alastor? You want your kids to be beaten up at Hogwarts? I’m all for naming your kids after our late respected elders and all, but when the original bearer of the name hated his name so much he called himself Mad-Eye–’
‘Ron, don’t be silly, no-one ever notices unusual names in Hogwarts,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘Look at, well, everyone.’
‘Yeah, but it’s that kind of optimistic mindset that got Tonks named Nymphadora,’ Ron muttered, refusing to be defeated.
‘I think you should call her Evanna,’ Luna contributed, a little out of the blue.
This toned the conversation down a little, as was the effect of most things Luna said, with the fact that she had immediately called the baby “her” not going unnoticed. ‘Why Evanna?’ Ginny asked.
‘It’s a nice name,’ Luna smiled.
This was considered by the group. There was only so much advice you could take from someone who called her boys Lorcan and Lysander.
Before anyone could bypass this statement and argue for themselves again, a seven-foot towering griffin patronus glided in from the far wall of the inn to come kneeling beside Luna. Out of its mouth came the instantly recognisable British tones of Luna’s husband Rolf, his loud authoritarian voice making Ron smirk with barely-contained laughter.
‘Lunie, there’s been an alleged Krotluux sighting a little East of Hong Kong. It could be the finding of the century – let’s make your father proud! Meet me there with the twins as soon as you can. I’ll wait.’ The griffin disappeared.
‘Krotluux... isn’t that the fire-breathing giant squid species that the Quibbler said were being smuggled by Kingsley’s secretary?’
Anyone but Luna would have been able to notice the disbelief Hermione was desperately trying to hide in her voice, but Luna’s face simply lit up. ‘That’s right!’ she beamed, obviously thrilled that her usually sceptical friend had remembered the mythical creature in such detail. ‘It really would be brilliant if it were real, dad’s been so down lately, it would cheer him up so much to finally be proved right...’
‘It’s ok, Luna, you can go,’ smiled Ginny, as she had done on dozens of similar occasions when Luna had started babbling.
Luna hugged Ginny, smiled at the whole group, pulled out her wand from behind her ear and disapparated, leaving a noise like someone clicking their tongue loudly.
‘Isn’t it great that she’s found a man as insane as she is?’ Ron commented. ‘Still, you can’t help but respect a man who can call her Loony and make it sound flattering...’
Typically, Luna’s departure was the catalyst for the whole group to suddenly notice the time and head home themselves. ‘We’d better get going, too,’ Hermione sighed. ‘Ron’s a guest host on Lee Jordan’s Chat Show this evening.’
When Magitechnologists had finally been asked to expand on the idea of television by the Ministry in 2007, the result had been astounding. Not limited to light and sound, the so-called “Living Pensieves” (still called “Fellytizions” by Muggle fanatics such as Arthur Weasley) could deliver perfect three-dimensional footage from any beacon worldwide from any angle, with infallible renditions of sights, sounds, smells, temperature, atmosphere, and anything that could possibly be mimicked accurately. In fact, if one were to surrender one’s mind entirely to the ‘Fellytizion’ Receiver, one could see events in the same third-person way as they would using a regular pensieve, hence the “Living Pensieve” brand. Needless to say, famous Voice of Truth Lee “River” Jordan had immediately benefited from the invention by setting up a Chat Show, which by now was so popular that he could immediately book almost anyone, regardless of fame (although he had not yet directly asked Harry Potter, out of respect – Harry would occasionally allow himself on the show, however, at which point the ratings were invariably phenomenal).
‘We should go get Lily, too, we’ve left her at Dennis’s shop for nearly two hours now,’ Ginny blushed.
‘You go on ahead, Gin, I’ll pay Aberforth,’ Harry said, nodding at the door. Ginny raised an eyebrow slightly, before looking at Neville; she then gave a subtle look of enlightenment and nodded, following Hermione and Ron out of the door. Neville frowned, suddenly getting the uneasy feeling that he had something on his face.
With Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna gone, there was suddenly an eerie silence in the pub, which Harry hardly helped by quietly counting coins on the table. Neville cleared his throat.
‘James and Albus have been doing really well–’
‘What’s wrong, Neville?’
Neville was taken aback. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘You’ve been really quiet all day. It’s so unlike you. Well... so unlike the you I’ve known the last twenty years. You have something on your mind. Talk to me.’
Neville looked down, sheepishly. He hadn’t meant to seem so distant, and he certainly didn’t want his friends worrying about him. ‘It’s nothing, Harry. I might be thinking a bit about Hannah because we haven’t been seeing each other lately... that’s all. It’s nothing big.’
Harry nodded. ‘And why haven’t you been seeing each other lately?’
Neville shifted uncomfortably. ‘All sorts of reasons. I work weekdays, she works weeknights and Saturdays whenever the ‘Cauldron is understaffed, I can’t disapparate from Hogwarts, Floo Powder prices are going through the roof...’
‘We both know this isn’t about not seeing each other, Nev.’
Neville looked up stiffly. He briefly wondered whether Harry was performing Legilimency on him; he was certainly powerful enough. But he put the thought out of his mind. He trusted Harry completely, no matter what tricks he was playing on Neville’s mind. ‘It’s everything,’ he admitted. ‘She doesn’t want to have my children. She won’t let me go on River’s, or do anything that will get us any publicity. She keeps saying I should quit Hogwarts and go back to being an Auror, even though I’m happy being a Professor and I’m better at it and, you know, everything... even this morning she almost wouldn’t – well, she’s ok with you and Ginny and Ron and Hermione but she thinks Luna’s... weird.’
There had been a lot of talk and rumours about Neville and Luna getting together after the Battle of Hogwarts, especially after Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione had all got engaged. The truth was, however, that Neville and Luna were very close friends and, regardless of their initial feelings for one another, they had nothing in common. Besides, Luna had been going out with Dean Thomas for the first year and a half or so after the war, and by the time they had split up Neville had already pretty much got used to thinking of Luna as just a close friend.
‘So, basically, what you’re saying is that your whirlwind romance and marriage with Hannah Abbot, a girl you started dating less than two years ago and with whom you share almost as little in common as you do with Luna...’ Harry’s face turned mock quizzical. ‘That’s not working out?’
Neville hung his head again. ‘I know. I was stupid, I was naive-’
‘You were Neville Longbottom, who isn’t either of those things! Neville, you can’t beat yourself up over your relationship with Hannah. You were brave and trusting. When you fell in love with Hannah – who, I believe, you already knew well enough from DA meetings until you got out of touch – you immediately threw all your faith in her. Anything that “hasn’t worked out” between you two, it’s not your fault, you’ve done nothing wrong. Your only crime is being yourself.’
‘Yeah, and look how far that’s got me in life.’
‘I’m sorry?’
Neville bit his tongue; the sarcastic comment had slipped out. ‘Well, look at me, Harry! What have I accomplished in my life? All through school I spent all my time trying to be you! And look at me now, I’m still useless, you stop any potential dark wizard in their tracks while I’m telling kids the difference between one plant they’re never going to see again and another plant they’re never going to see again! My parents died three years ago with no idea who the hell I was and thanks to Hannah that means I’ll die the last Longbottom! I’m a failure!’ He was suddenly very aware that he was shouting very loudly in a small bar. ‘Muffliato!’ he added.
Harry looked oddly hurt, as if everything Neville had just said had been directed at him. ‘Neville, don’t say that. In the Second War–’
‘The Second War? I did nothing in the second war! You killed He-Who-Must – you know, V-V... him! I slightly annoyed the Carrows, that’s the best I can say.’
‘Neville, you killed Voldemort just as much as I did.’
Neville snorted. ‘Don’t give me that teamwork bullshit. I killed his pet when I was on fire. Big deal. It’s not like he bawled his eyes out over it.’
‘Neville, listen.’ Harry took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I defeated him. But really killing him, that honour I can’t bear myself. Well, mostly, because he killed himself. Twice.’ Neville’s mouth twitched. ‘But with that in mind, I really just killed one part of him. That’s an equal share of his death I can claim with you, and Dumbledore, and Ron, and Hermione, and Crabbe-’
‘Don’t try it Harry, it’s just hopeless teamwork Oliver-Wood-copied shi – it’s – what? Crabbe? Why is – what?’
Harry resisted the urge to grin; the name-dropping had had the desired effect. ‘Neville,’ he said, slowly, ‘I am about to tell you what I should have told you nineteen years ago. Please forgive my lateness, but in fairness only three other people know any of it. Sit down, it might take a while... I am going to tell you everything.’
* * *
‘Um,’ Neville stammered. This was about as much as he could manage after two hours and twenty-eight minutes of life changing information. Harry was smiling at him.
‘Er,’ he continued, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. ‘So – I – the snake – um. Well... hmm.’ Silence engulfed him again.
‘If you want proof, I’ve got a Pensieve back home,’ Harry continued.
‘No, that’s ok, I know you wouldn’t – I mean, I know it’s all true. It makes sense, and I know that you – I know it’s true...’ Neville trailed off, embarrassed at his stammering.
Harry’s smile erupted into a broad grin. ‘That’s the Neville I know. Excellent instincts, and trusting, and loyal to your friends. That’s the Neville that pulled the sword of Godric Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat, who killed Voldemort’s last lifeline. That’s the Neville who selflessly gathered all of Hogwarts against the Carrows without fear of his own safety, just to protect the people who mattered most to him.’
(As Neville’s self-confidence grew, he couldn’t help wondering at this point – not for the first time – whether or not Harry knew that he and Ginny had dated during the four months leading up to the epic Battle of Hogwarts. However, he knew that it was Ginny’s secret to bear as much as it was his, so he promptly put it out of his mind.)
‘That’s what you’ve done in your life, Neville. You’re as important as me any day, and I won’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’
‘Thank you, Harry,’ he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.
And with their conversation apparently over, the pub seemed to be brought to life again. Harry pushed thirty galleons across the counter, which Aberforth accepted with a nod and a gruff “cheers”, and looked at his watch.
‘Wow. Good thing Hermione made me a time-turner, or Ginny would have my head.’ He got up from the table. ‘I hope you can work it out with Hannah, anyway, Nev. See you next week.’
Neville sat thinking quietly at the table for a few seconds. Then; ‘Harry, wait.’
He turned around, inches from the door. ‘What?’
Neville blinked, unsure what he was going to say. ‘Frank if it’s a boy,’ he eventually conceded. ‘Alice if it’s a girl.’
Harry nodded, satisfied. ‘You’ve got better odds than Ron.’ Neville laughed. ‘Take care, Neville.’ And with that, he took out an egg-timer from his pocket, turned it three times, and vanished.
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