Chapter Text
Neville watched with worry and discomfort as one champion after another vanished into the labyrinth. After the hedge had closed behind Fleur Delacour five big canvases rose out of the hedge. One displayed the ever-changing labyrinth from above, with markings for each of the champions and one for the cup in the centre. The others were showing a champion each, so that the spectators could follow their progress individually.
Neville's eyes were transfixed on the one displaying Harry. Never before had he been able to witness Harry’s adventures like he had this year, and while he had initially thought it would make his suffering easier, he had already learned with the dragon how much he had been mistaken. He wished he could be by Harry’s side, to give him support and courage and companionship.
But once again he was relegated to the sidelines, forced to just watch and unable to help.
He was momentarily distracted from the image of Harry when unrest broke out around him, the other students shouting in outrage and pointing at the canvases displaying Delacour and Krum. The Bulgarian champion had attacked the Veela, his eyes empty and distant. But no one beside Neville seemed to notice that little detail, one that so clearly spoke of the Imperius.
He had never understood why no one had protested some of the Death Eaters claiming the influence of that curse to escape Azkaban. Especially after he had seen the blatant change in each of his classmates when Moody had used the curse on each of them during the Defence lessons. But maybe it actually was something only few could see, and none of them had dared to speak up for the same reason Neville would not point it out himself.
It was not a good idea to draw that kind of attention to yourself if you wanted to stay alive.
Neville followed Krum’s movements for a few seconds, frowning thoughtfully. Krum had taken out Delacour, but someone was controlling him. Probably the same person who had gotten Harry into the tournament. The whole year Neville had tried without much success to find a reason why someone had done that. He fidgeted in place, a dark foreboding building inside him, but he could do nothing but wait and hope that Harry’s luck would hold.
He kept his eyes fixed on Harry, even as Krum attacked Cedric, and with the Cruciatus at that. It was very telling that Krum started to flee instead of attacking Harry, who was in no position to defend himself during his fight with the hedge to reach them. But again, no one seemed to notice it, booing Krum and cheering for Harry when his Stupify let the older champion drop down.
Cedric and Harry separated, only to meet again right in front of the cup.
Neville held his breath, internally pleading with Harry to just let Cedric win while they debated about who would take the cup. He could so clearly see now that it had to be a trap. He closed his eyes when both Cedric and Harry grabbed for the cup and vanished, but did not appear on the stage where all eyes had gone to.
For half a minute deafening silence lay over the whole field while everyone waited for something to happen. But Neville felt that Harry was not in Hogwarts anymore, or anywhere near it.
Ludo Bagman clearing his throat eventually broke the silence. “Yes, well … It does seem as if our recording spells at the other location have failed.”
He laughed nervously. “Of course, we need to have one winner of our grand tournament, and we made preparations in the event that two champions would forget that. So … Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter are currently facing another challenge to determine who our winner will be! We should see their progress here but … Of course, we are working on solving the problem as fast as possible so we will all be able to witness the final result. Please stay in your seats and remain patient.”
Neville wondered if anyone actually believed that nonsense while students all around him began muttering. The judges and other officials down by the stage had started a heated discussion, and Neville wished he could hear what they were saying. Did they even have an idea what had happened, or were they entirely in the dark?
While they waited an unconscious Fleur Delacour was brought to the stage by Hagrid, and Neville watched in disgust as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over the young woman right in front of everyone, as if Fleur did not deserve any privacy about her medical care. It did serve to distract the spectators for a few minutes, and again when Moody brought Krum out. His questioning and the subsequent discussion about the use of an unforgivable curse – which ended in Krum being pardoned on the spot by Minister Fudge – served as another distraction.
Nearly an hour had gone by when the spectators started to lose their patience and the judges could no longer disguise the fact that even they weren’t sure what had happened. They were saved from having to find further explanations when suddenly Harry and Cedric appeared on the stage, Harry sprawled over the older boy crying while Cedric was eerily still.
Everyone around him sprang up, cheering even though they still weren’t sure whether Harry or Cedric had won. Only Neville stayed seated, desperately fighting against his shock and utter fear. He could feel Harry in a way he had never been able to before. And that could only mean that Harry had awoken as a Sentinel.
Neville himself had awoken as a Guide long before he had come to Hogwarts. It was the reason why his grandmother had kept him out of sight from the public until it had been time for him to start his first year, not bothering that it had stirred up rumours about him being a squib. It had actually come in handy when he had started school, and he used his father's wand to further mask his abilities, so everyone expected him to perform poorly. No one looked twice at him, thinking him barely a wizard at all.
If Augusta Longbottom had had her way, Neville would not have gone to Hogwarts at all. He could understand her reasons. The first thing he had learned after he had awoken was the law that would see him executed if it was ever discovered that he was a Guide. He had also learned that it was unique to Great Britain, that he and his Sentinel would be safe if they left the country.
Nevertheless, Neville had insisted on staying here. He knew without a doubt that his Sentinel was somewhere in this country, was fairly sure that he had already met them when he had been younger and unable to remember it. He had been willing to take the risk so he could find his Sentinel, who was as much at risk as he was.
And he had been proven right when he had recognized his Sentinel in Harry on the very first day of school right after the sorting when he had sat on the other side of the table during the feast. It had been a nightmare from the very start and up-ended all of the plans Neville had made with his grandmother. Harry was not able to keep a low profile, and they were not able to invite him over for the holidays to talk with him about the issue, to warn him.
For a long time, Neville had not even been able to get close to Harry, because Ron was there nearly all the time, jealously guarding his place as Harry’s best (and only) friend. It had gotten easier after Hermione had been included in that friendship, but it was still rare to get a quiet moment with Harry. They had built a solid friendship in the last four years, even though everyone else would scoff about the notion because they had managed to keep it quiet.
Nonetheless, Harry knew nothing about what had happened to him, and asking the wrong kind of questions could mean his death. Not even being the Boy-who-lived would save him. The propaganda in Great Britain about Sentinels and Guides was dark and condemning, and Harry was regarded by many with suspicion anyway.
Neville was thrown out of his musing when the cheering subsided and horrified whispers started to flow through the students. He shuddered when he heard that Cedric seemed to be dead, and immediately the questions started if Harry had killed him to get the prize. It was the same every year and so ugly. It was no wonder one Dark Lord after another kept rising in this country with how cruel and dark most everyone here was.
The Gryffindor tried to leave the stands without much success. No one was interested in leaving, everyone wanted to know what had happened, and the crowd started to demand answers as Harry was led away by Moody. Neville tried to keep an eye on them, not trusting the old Auror one bit. Even before he had started to demonstrate the Unforgivables in class Neville had not thought much of him, and after that incident he had taken great care to never be alone with the man.
He could feel jumbled and unclear emotions from Harry through the rest of the evening, and more than once he wished he could open up his shields to reach for Harry and find out what was happening. But that would most likely lead to his discovery and he could not risk it.
There was no real explanation given other than Cedric had died during the last part of the tournament before the students were ushered into the castle, and the adults that had come to watch the last task were asked to leave the school. Neville followed Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley to the infirmary, but was sent away at the door as Harry was only allowed a small number of visitors, and Neville was not really his friend after all.
Neville had never before been so frustrated by the fact that they had so successfully disguised their friendship. Instead of complaining, he went straight back to the dorm to get a hold of Harry’s invisibility cloak while everyone else was still out. He had permission from Harry to take it whenever he needed it – and if there had ever been a need it was now. He would wait until everyone else was asleep and sneak to his friend then.
But waiting was hard. Harry was vulnerable and exposed and Neville still didn’t have a clear picture of what had actually happened. When Ron and Hermione came back to the common room he heard a few snippets of information: about someone posing as Moody for most if not the whole year, about Harry meeting Voldemort in some cemetery, and Voldemort being resurrected through a ritual for which Harry had been needed. Barely anyone in the common room believed them. Fudge had already declared that Harry was lying to cover up his misgivings before they had left the Quidditch pitch.
It was more early in the morning than late at night when Neville dared to leave his dorm and the Gryffindor tower hidden under Harry’s cloak. Harry was the only one in the infirmary, tossing from one side to the other in a fitful sleep. That made Neville feeling better about waking him up, as it would end whatever nightmare was plaguing his Sentinel.
“Nev?” Harry was blinking confused.
“They wouldn’t let me visit earlier,” Neville said shrugging. “So I had to borrow your cloak.”
Harry smiled sleepily. “You didn’t have to…”
“Ah, but I do!” Neville interrupted him. “You are my friend. And I’m very worried about you. You were gone for a whole hour, and Ron and Hermione said something about Voldemort.”
Harry sighed and without further prompting began to tell him what had happened after he and Cedric had taken the cup, thinking they would share the win. Neville was horrified by all of it, but mostly by the ritual and mock duel Voldemort had tried to construct. His horror was chased away by anger when Harry told him about the false Moody and how Fudge had basically killed the imposter without even questioning him.
“The Minister doesn’t believe me,” Harry ended quietly.
Neville shook his head. “More likely he doesn’t want to believe you because it will damage his image and his position when it will become known that You-know-who is back and that the rat helped him.”
“Do his reasons matter?” Harry asked frowning.
“Probably not.” Neville sighed and took Harry’s hand in his without thinking about it. “He will be a problem either way. But we knew that already since last year when he refused to listen to you about Snuffles.”
Harry smiled. “He was here earlier. Not long, but it was good to see him. Just … Dumbledore sent him away on some mission. I would have liked to see him again before I have to go back.”
“Do you remember how we talked about you not going back there but spending the summer with me?” That had been two years ago and Neville had often wished Harry had followed his invitation. “Nobody is checking up on you there anyway, right?”
“But … what about the blood protection? I can’t … my mother gave that to me. I can’t … dishonour it.”
Neville frowned and looked down at Harry’s arm clad in bandages. “It won’t work anymore. You said the rat took your blood for the ritual. It’s in him now, any blood wards will recognize him as family.”
Harry shuddered violently. “No! That can’t be…”
“I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing for you to be sorry for!” Harry frowned and Neville could literally see him thinking. “But how would I get to you? I don’t think the headmaster would let it go if I just went with you. He already insisted that I go back until after my birthday.”
Neville bit on his lip and hesitated for a long moment before he opened the chain of the medallion he had worn around his neck since he had been five years old. “This will bring you into my room upon activation. I really want to show you my home.”
Harry frowned. “Is that a po…”
“Yes,” Neville interrupted hurriedly. He was cautious about certain words being spoken because he knew there were listening charms all over the castle which were activated by certain words or phrases, but he had no idea what they were. He knew Harry thought him paranoid, but he had never not indulged him.
Harry hesitated for a moment before he took the medallion, but Neville had to help him fasten the chain because Harry could barely use the hand of his injured arm. “How is it activated? And what do I say if someone asks about it?”
“Have you ever seen me wear it?” Neville asked chuckling. “It’s invisible for anyone but the wearer. And it’s the given name of my mother, then of grandmother and my father and my own name at the end.”
Harry looked at him warily. “Why were you wearing it?”
“In case I ever need to get out of a dangerous situation. But it’s only a week until I’m home, I’ll survive until then without it.” And it contained protective magic that had helped him, in the beginning, to contain his abilities as a Guide and which would now hopefully help level out Harry’s senses. He could do without it for a week easily. “I expect you to take not too much time to give it back to me!”
Harry worried his lip. “Can it take two people? It’s just … Snuffles wants to wait for me on the evening of the train ride and I…”
“No problem.” Neville nodded, although he was pretty sure his grandmother would not be convinced so easily to harbour a fugitive, but that was something for him to worry about later. “How are you feeling?”
Harry shrugged. “My head hurts and earlier even the candles were too bright. The cut on my arm still burns and half the time my ears are ringing. I thought it would help to sleep, but … there were only nightmares.”
“You were tortured with the Cruciatus,” Neville reminded quietly. “It will take a while for those things to stop.”
It was a convenient excuse and only half the truth, but hopefully, it would stop Harry from asking questions about it, so he would not draw attention to his senses. Neville hated it to lead his friend around in such a way, but he would not be able to talk about the real reasons until they were safely in his home.
Harry screwed up his face. “Madam Pomfrey said the same.”
“Did she already tell you how long she would hold you captive?”
“She’ll tell me in the morning.” Harry huffed. “I’m not even sure if I want to get out of here. What are the others saying about what happened?”
Neville sighed deeply. “You won’t like it.”
“That I knew already!”
“Fudge implied that you killed Cedric and a lot of students believe him.”
“Great.” Harry closed his eyes. “He cancelled the award ceremony, that will just fuel the speculations.”
“Maybe the teachers will say something.” It was a slim hope, Neville knew that. But the situation was hardly comparable to the last few years.
Harry shrugged. “Have they ever said anything to kill the rumours surrounding me? — There are still some students who think I was responsible for all the shit two years ago because no one explained to them what really happened!”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Never before had one week of school been as long as this one. Harry reached that conclusion a day after the last task when he was released from the infirmary in the evening and the whole Great Hall fell silent as he entered. Everyone was staring at him with varying degrees of resentment, hatred or fear.
All eyes were following him as he made his way down the Gryffindor table to sit by his friends, and as expected the teachers said nothing. But if Harry had learned one thing in the last four years it was how to ignore the stares and pretend it didn’t bother him.
Harry sat down between Hermione and Ron and started to talk with Neville and Hermione (not Ron, as he was too busy eating, the only person in the hall to not have stopped), pretending not to notice the stares of everyone else. It took a few minutes, but in the end, it worked and the other students began to whisper with each other and go back to their meal. Yet Harry knew that the only thing everyone was talking about was the third task and their speculations about the events at the end, and it made his skin crawl.
Over the next couple of days, Harry told his story whenever he was asked and sometimes even when he was not asked. It did help only marginally, as most people called him a liar right to his face, repeating Minister Fudge's words over and over again. And still, the teachers said nothing and the Daily Prophet published surprisingly sparse articles about the last task.
The worst was the time he had to spend in his own house. Seamus and Dean were openly distrustful of him, complaining more than once about having to sleep in the same room as him. They did it when he shouldn’t have been able to hear it, but that didn’t help fight his own discomfort about sleeping in the same room as them. Only a few people stood up for him in the common room, mainly the Quidditch team and especially the Weasley twins.
That did lead to Harry finally deciding what he wanted to do with the tournament winnings after the twins told him how Bagman had scammed them out of their winnings of the Quidditch bet in the last summer. He was happy to give them the gold so they could start their business, maybe so it could bring something good into the world.
It also led to another fight with Ron, which Harry was getting really tired of. Somehow Ron believed that if Harry had to give away his winnings, he should have given it to him as his best friend. Harry did not remind him that the twins were two of very few students in the whole school who had stood beside him the whole year – and that Ron was decidedly not part of that group.
Most of his time Harry spent hiding somewhere in the castle or on the grounds, and more often than not Neville found him there, sitting with him without asking anything of him. Harry was not especially interested in any kind of conversation and Neville seemed to understand that, simply working on his summer homework next to him and just keeping him company.
In addition to all this trouble with nearly everyone in the castle, Harry was only slowly getting better. The cut on his arm and any other injuries he had sustained in the maze and during his fight with Voldemort had nearly completely healed before he left the infirmary and had vanished by the next morning. But his headache and nausea and his unreliable senses kept being a problem, and he could not quite believe that it had anything to do with the Cruciatus as Madam Pomfrey and Neville had assured him.
It was not the first time his senses were out of control. The first time he had had to deal with hearing or seeing things he should not, or not hearing or seeing at all, while his skin was raw and everything was hurting much more than it should, or not hurting at all, had been in the summer after first year. It had taken him a long time to notice that smell and taste were similarly affected because most of the first month he had not gotten the stench of burning flesh out of his mouth and nose.
Harry still had no idea what that was all about. He could not have asked his aunt or uncle about it because he really did not need another thing making him different and fuelling their hatred of him. And he hadn’t been able to ask anyone in the magical world because he hadn’t had any contact with his friends or anyone else until Dobby had shown up.
It had taken a lot of concentration, but in the end, he had gotten it all under control. When Ron and the twins had rescued him from the Dursleys, Harry had not thought much about those problems at the beginning of the summer. He had not thought about it for a very long time until it had become very useful to be able to pinpoint only with his hearing where the basilisk was during the fight against it. But by then he had learned what a bad idea it was to reveal unique abilities to the wizarding public, and so he had kept quiet about it and said it had been pure dumb luck he had evaded the beast long enough for Fawkes to pick out its eyes and then stabbed the snake in the right moment and the right place to kill it.
Even though Harry had learned during the fight against the snake that it could be useful to be able to decide how detailed he wanted to see his surroundings or how much he wanted to hear, he had kept it all locked away. He didn’t want to lose control of it as it had happened after first year, nor did he want to have another thing that made him stand out. So he had not spoken about it to anyone and not used it, except during the second task when he just had not seen enough in the water and had adjusted his sight without even thinking about it.
Maybe it actually was the torture he had endured under Voldemort’s wand that made it so hard to control his senses now. Maybe these abilities were even normal for magicals, but no one talked about it for unknown reasons which would be just another reason for Harry not to talk about it. He definitely did not want to break such a taboo.
Harry knew he needed to get it back under control, but there seemed to be no way to do that here in Hogwarts. Being near Neville helped and let Harry have hope to get it back under control as soon as the summer started. And until then he just had to endure.
Sometimes it felt like his senses, especially his hearing, were actively searching for the vilest things spoken about him and for threats made against him and for those who stood up for him. He heard a lot of things he clearly was not intended to hear in the week after Voldemort’s resurrection. And not only from the students but from the teachers, too.
So he learned that Dumbledore had reinstated a group called the Order of the Phoenix in reaction to the events at the end of the last task, but that he did not want to make any kind of official statement as long as Fudge had not made one first, and that included statements inside the school. That was what he had told those teachers he had talked to about the Order, but to the real Moody he had also said that the isolation Harry was experiencing would be good for him and his destiny, whatever that was.
Moreover, Harry learned that Ron was still resentful for the chance Harry had gotten in participating in the tournament as well as that he had not used it more to further his fame. And he had tried to talk the twins into giving him the gold or at least a part of it, as surely they had to see that Harry had still been very confused when he had given it to them instead of him.
But the most interesting thing he learned was about the mood of the Slytherins and others who came from known or not so known dark families. Harry had expected them to be euphoric about the return of the Lord of their parents and some of them were, but for most it was the exact opposite. Many of them were wary about going home, especially the older ones, and there was a lot of hushed up talk about how one could escape the possibility of having to serve the Dark Lord.
When Harry had agreed to secretly stay with Neville for the summer, he had not been sure if it was such a good idea. He did want to get away from the Dursleys, to spend a summer without being cut off from the magical world, and to spend the holidays with his friend. But there were still the wards at Privet Drive, which ought to protect him and the Dursleys and which were still in perfect working order Dumbledore had assured him when Harry had asked him about it after Neville's visit in the infirmary. And he had kept thinking about Ron, who had bemoaned the fact that Harry could not spend the summer with him and his family.
All he had learned in the days between the last task and when they finally could board the train to London had shown him that he should not think so much about what others expected from him, especially Ron and Dumbledore. For the first time in his whole life he would spend the summer where he wanted to spend it and with someone who had never asked anything of him. And maybe he could use the time to train his senses, maybe he would even be able to confide in Neville about them.
On the train ride to London, Harry shared a compartment with Neville, Ron and Hermione. They had locked the door so no one would bother them, but more than once in the long hours of the ride Harry wished they had locked out Hermione and Ron, too. They kept bragging about their plans for the holidays like they had done every year on the way to London. But while Harry had not cared much in the past, this year he could not help but resent them. For all they knew, he would be incarcerated with his relatives for most of the summer, but they did not care about his misery.
Harry was relieved when they reached London in the early evening and he could leave them. He felt a little bit bad about it. He had tried really hard in the last months to forgive Ron for turning his back on him after Halloween, or Hermione for not standing fully beside him.
But he just could not reach a point where he could trust either friend again. All Hermione had done was try to mediate between them, and while intellectually Harry could recognize and appreciate that, emotionally he was still hurt that she had been angry not only at Ron but at him, too, for the fight between them. He had not been the one in the wrong, he had not turned his back on a friend, and he had really needed her full and undisputed support at the time.
Ron seemed to expect that Harry would just forget about it, but that would never happen even if someday Harry could find forgiveness for Ron. The past year had shown him things about Ron he had not seen before. Or maybe he had not wanted to see them before, too enamoured with the fact that he had a friend at all. Either way, he could not dismiss them now, and he had not decided yet how he would or could handle them in the future.
During the drive to Surrey, Harry silently endured Uncle Vernon’s lecture about him keeping quiet and out of sight for the summer. He deemed it unnecessary to inform him that he would not even spend a night in Privet Drive, but promised to keep away as much as possible. He made a show out of bringing his trunk in his room, only to activate the rune that Neville had carved into it that shrunk it down. It would only work one time, but that was enough.
Harry had suggested to shrink his trunk down in Hogwarts and put it in Neville’s, but his friend had argued that it would be too suspicious if Harry left the school without his trunk. So he had given Harry a backpack and had shown him how to use the rune. Harry had briefly wondered how his friend knew about such a thing when he didn’t take Ancient Runes as an elective but decided to ask about it later.
And so, Harry left his relatives’ house only minutes after he and Uncle Vernon had reached it without the Dursleys asking where he was going. He was sure they would not even register that he hadn’t come back for a couple of days and even then they probably wouldn’t care.
He found Sirius by the playground, hiding in the bush Harry had described him and in his animagus form. After checking that no one was there watching him, Harry climbed over the bushes – he may be the smallest boy of his class, but even he was now too big to crawl through the twigs as he had done so often before Hogwarts – and sat down in the small but empty space between a few of the bushes. He knew from experience that it was a good hiding place, especially now that it was nearly dark.
Sirius crawled out of the bush and brushed his head against Harry’s chest before he changed back. “How are you feeling, pup?”
Harry shrugged and bit down on his lip. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “Do you trust Dumbledore, Siri? I mean, really really trust him?”
Sirius hesitated, and that was answer enough. “I can’t say that I trust anyone lightly these days.”
“Do you trust me?” Harry asked, frowning.
“That’s another matter altogether.” Sirius smiled warmly. “Shortly after you were born, I swore to your parents and to you on my magic and my life to protect you. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” He brushed his fingers softly through Harry’s hair. “I thought you’d be safe with Hagrid and Dumbledore for a few hours, when I left you with him. I’ll never be able to fully trust him again because I wasn’t able to trust him with your safety.”
“But you are following his orders.”
Sirius shrugged. “I’m not in a good position, still being a fugitive. And he is the only one doing anything against You-know-who. And we need to stand up against him before he gets his full power back. — What brought this on?”
“I heard him tell Moody, the real Moody, that it was better for me to be kept isolated from the other students.” Harry huffed. “They were all shunning me because they believed I killed Cedric to win.”
Sirius furrowed his brows. “And the teachers weren’t saying anything?”
Harry shrugged. “Of course not. They never do. I have a plan for this summer, but you can’t tell Dumbledore anything!”
“What plan?” Sirius asked warily.
“You won’t tell him?”
“I’ll never reveal your secrets to anyone,” Sirius promised. “But if I think your plan is dangerous, I can’t promise not to interfere.”
Harry nodded. “That’s fair, I think. – Neville asked me to spend the summer with him. He gave me a portkey so I could go there as soon as everyone thought I had gone to the Dursleys. Because Dumbledore insisted I stay with them, even though neither of us wants it!”
“Neville Longbottom? Do you trust him?” Sirius asked.
“He is the only one that has in four years never ever turned his back on me!” Harry said with conviction. “Or made fun of me. Or spoken badly about me. - And he said you could come with me.”
Sirius raised a brow. “And what does Augusta Longbottom say to that?”
Harry shrugged. “Neville said not to worry about it. I think she’s not as bad as everyone believes, you know? She’s just paranoid because of what happened to Neville’s parents. And with all the things happening at school every year she is probably right.”
“It is rather suspicious that all of that started to happen as soon as you were in Hogwarts,” Sirius agreed. “And what do you plan to do while staying with Neville?”
“To enjoy my holidays for once!” Harry answered. “And to learn about the magical world. Ron never felt like answering my questions, he preferred to play chess or roam around. And I have a lot of questions!”
“And you never asked Neville before?”
Harry huffed. “We didn’t get to spend a lot of time undisturbed. Neville once told me that there were listening charms all over the castle, and whenever someone started a discussion about things the teachers or maybe only the headmaster didn’t want to be discussed they would activate and warn someone. I really thought he had gotten his paranoia from his grandmother, but now…”
Sirius chuckled. “That does seem paranoid, but he isn’t wrong about monitoring charms in certain places. But they should not be used to spy on the students.”
“What are they used for?”
“To protect the students, of course. All over the grounds, but especially by the Quidditch pitch and the lake are wards monitoring for any injuries. There are a lot of little spaces monitored for…” Sirius cocked his head and paused. “You are old enough, I think.”
Harry screwed up his face. “Yeah, no need to talk about that!”
“Has someone already given you the sex-talk?” Sirius asked.
Harry shrugged. “Uncle Vernon, I guess. He told me what to do to not get a girl pregnant if I had to succumb to ‘those nasty urges’. I had already listened in to his talk with Dudley and that was much more thorough, but I don’t think Uncle Vernon had actually any good advice about it.”
Sirius raised his brows. “And why is that?”
“He was only talking about how Dudley would ‘get his’, but it should be a good time for both, right?”
“Definitely.” Sirius nodded. “For both, or all three if you want to be adventurous.” He winked at Harry and laughed. “I think we should have a more in-depth talk about this at a later point. I know it’s not the most comfortable thing for you to talk about, but open and honest communication is very important, and it will be a good exercise for that.”
“If you say so,” Harry muttered uncomfortably.
“But to get back to Neville’s suspicions. There shouldn’t be active monitoring of any student, but I can’t say I would put it past Dumbledore to make an exception for you. I’m not comfortable with the things he is asking me to not tell you or to tell you in a certain way. And I have a feeling he is trying to keep us separated as much as possible. I just don’t know why. He wouldn’t have approved of me coming here today if I had asked.”
“Has he done anything to help you gain your freedom in the last year?”, Harry asked. “I mean, he has influence in the ministry, doesn’t he?”
Sirius shook his head. “He told me the situation was too strained at the moment to bring up my non-existent trial.”
Harry huffed. “Sounds like a load of bullshit. Maybe Neville’s grandma can help you? Neville said she knows lots about politics and is somehow involved in it all.”
Sirius smiled, but he did not look convinced at all. “We’ll see, pup.”
“So.” Harry eyed his godfather sceptically. “Are you coming with me, or do I need to stun and kidnap you? Neville said to not let him wait too long.”
Sirius laughed. “You don’t need to kidnap me. But I think it will go better if I come as Snuffles.” And without waiting for a reply he transformed again.
Harry grinned and put his arms around the big dog, burying his face in the dark hair before muttering the activation code. He really hated portkeys, especially after last week, but not having to spend the summer with the Dursleys was worth the whole ordeal.
~*~*~*~*~*~
As per usual, Neville and his grandmother exchanged no words while they were still at the train station. They had taken great care in cultivating a certain picture of their relationship for the public, one that spoke of distance and coldness – of disappointment and grief on his grandmother’s part and a desperate wish for her approval on his part. All so no one would wonder about Neville using his father wand and his bad performance in every magical endeavour.
The biggest problem in hiding what he was, was the distinct fabric of his magic. All Sentinel and Guides had a very deep connection to wild magic, something that showed in every spell they performed. Anyone with mage sight could learn to see this connection, but it was exhausting, especially in an environment like Hogwarts with hundreds of students performing massive amounts of magic on any given day. If there was someone at Hogwarts searching for such a connection to wild magic among the students, that person would have to be very selective, and as such would probably not look in the direction of a student who was so clearly failing in even reaching the most basic magical goals.
Augusta pulled Neville into her arms as soon as they had reached the security of their own property. He returned the hug just as fiercely, glad to be safe, glad to be able to relax for the first time in months. Hogwarts, in general, was exhausting for him and the last week had put a whole new dimension to it.
“Can you explain to me why your protection charm is currently located just outside of London?” Augusta asked without letting go of him.
Neville shrugged. “I gave it to Harry after the last task. He needed to go to his relatives first, but he’ll come here later.” He hesitated. “And he’ll bring a guest.”
Augusta took a step back and looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Why did you give him your portkey for that? We could have gone to his home to bring him here. Why now when he declined the last two summers? Who is he bringing with him and why?”
Neville blew out a breath. “Harry came online during the third task. I gave him the medallion in the hope it could help stabilise his senses, and it did seem to work in the last few days. I didn’t know … I couldn’t tell him anything and I couldn’t do anything without risking exposing us both. I … It was the only thing I could do to help him!”
“I understand.” Augusta was smiling warmly, but Neville suddenly felt overcome by panic.
He shook his head. “No, you don’t! I lied to Harry, basically for the whole time he has known me! He’ll hate me for it! He hates being lied to, or not being told everything! And now I even put him under magic without asking his permission! He’ll…”
“Neville, stop.” His grandmother gently enclosed his face with her hands and forced him to look at her. “You did nothing wrong, and Harry will understand. You protected him, and that is the important part. And I’m sure you have not outright lied to him. You kept information to yourself because you couldn’t have talked about it inside of Hogwarts!”
“That’s not really better,” Neville muttered. “It’s the same thing that Dumbledore does to him! He still hasn’t told Harry why Voldemort attacked his parents and is so interested in killing him!”
“But Dumbledore does it for his own gain, to further his own plans. You have done it to protect both of you.”
Neville huffed. “I’m sure Dumbledore would argue that he is protecting Harry, too!”
Augusta shook her head. “If that were the case, the last four years would have taken a different turn. And I’m positive that Harry knows that, too. - You have done everything to be a good friend for him. And as soon as he understands the danger you put yourself in, he will forget every hurt feeling about you not telling him everything because he will probably get quite angry that you put yourself into this position.”
Neville frowned. “Why?”
Augusta laughed lightly. “Oh, I knew you hadn’t thought about that side of things. He is your Sentinel, lad. His first goal in everything he’ll do will be to protect you. That’s his nature. He won’t be happy that you put yourself in danger for four years because of him.”
“He’ll just have to live with it,” Neville shrugged. And as much danger as Harry was prone to attract, he would have to learn to accept Neville's presence at his side in those situations, as Neville would not tolerate having to stand by and watch one more time.
August was still laughing as she prodded him into the sitting room and to a sofa. “Let’s sit down and tell me what happened during the third task. I haven’t gotten much information, neither from the newspaper nor from ministry gossip. All I know is that Cedric Diggory died and there is an ongoing investigation into the circumstances of his death.”
“Really?” Neville snorted. “No one has talked to Harry about it since the night of the last task. One would think he would be the first one any investigators would talk to!”
“And why is that?” Augusta asked.
Neville sighed and took his time not only to outline the third task in as few words as he could manage but the whole year. He ended with, “It had been nearly an hour before Harry and Cedric came back. Cedric was dead, but no one believed Harry when he told them that the cup had been a portkey that had taken them to Voldemort. Fudge basically said that Harry was lying to cover up killing Cedric.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Harry had awoken when he came back. I haven’t asked for details yet of what happened because I don’t want to have this discussion with him more than once. And there are questions I couldn’t have asked at Hogwarts.”
“That implies that the investigation I heard about is aimed against Harry.”
Neville nodded. “I think Fudge fears the consequences if anyone starts listening to Harry. Eventually, Harry would start to talk about last year and Sirius, and he can’t have that.”
He had spent the whole week thinking about Fudge's motives because he may not be the savviest politician who had ever existed, but he had gotten his position without the help of Dumbledore or Malfoy or anyone else he was associating with nowadays. He had to know that it would come back to bite him to just ignore Harry’s claim if there was even a kernel of truth in it.
So, either Fudge was already on Voldemort’s payroll or even a Death Eater in the making, or there was another reason to discredit Harry. Neville had not had to think long about another reason. Fudge’s career would be over if it came ever to light that he had given a kiss-on-sight-order for a man who had never had a trial. And it had been a year in which Fudge could have easily looked up the archive discretely to get an idea if Harry had actually been telling the truth at the end of third year.
Augusta eyed him with a frown. “What are you talking about?”
Neville frowned right back. “I told you about it, didn’t I? How Sirius never had a trial and is, in fact, innocent and Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed the Potters and killed all those muggles?”
“You did not tell me anything about such a thing! Are you talking about Sirius Black?”
“I’m sure I must have!” Neville insisted. “I was so furious that Dumbledore did nothing and that Fudge just ignored anything Harry had to say! Sirius and Harry had both been nearly killed because of all the Dementors at school!”
Augusta shook her head. “You haven’t told me a lot about your third year.” She pursed her lips. “But then, I didn’t ask much last summer about your school year. I thought it had been a quiet year inside of Hogwarts, with the search for Black and all that ruckus being outside of school.”
Neville snorted. “Expect that both Sirius and the Dementors were all at Hogwarts most of the year!”
“There were sightings reported all over the country, but never in a fifty-mile radius of Hogwarts.” Augusta looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You are addressing a wanted criminal awfully familiar.”
“Because he is no criminal!” Neville insisted. “He would have never survived the betrayal of the Potters! And Pettigrew lives! He confessed to all of it. But he managed to flee.”
“Have you spoken personally with Black?” Augusta asked.
Neville shook his head. “Harry told me what had happened afterwards. Ron and Hermione were with him as usual.”
“So, you can’t be sure what really happened.”
“Harry wouldn’t lie to me! He couldn’t, because I would know it!” Neville protested.
“True. But he could have been lied to,” Augusta cautioned. “And if his home life is as bad as you suspect it to be, he would probably believe anything that gave him even a little hope to get out of there permanently.”
Neville shook his head. “Ron was so scared afterwards, I think he actually saw Pettigrew change into Scabbers. Or the other way around, who knows.”
Augusta opened her mouth, but then she paused going pale. “What did you just say?”
“Pettigrew is a rat animagus. He hid with the Weasleys as their pet rat for most of the time since his reported death. He was Ron’s rat.”
“You once told me Ron was keeping his rat in his bed at night. Are you telling me there was a grown man living in your dorm and sleeping in the same bed as one of your classmates for three years?”
Neville had never seen his grandmother so shocked and furious at the same time, and he did not quite understand what brought on such a strong reaction. “Yeah. Before that he was Percy’s rat and I’m pretty sure he brought him to Hogwarts, too. Sirius recognized him in the picture of the Weasleys in the Daily Prophet two years ago. He broke out of Azkaban and went after him when he realised that Pettigrew was basically living in the same room as Harry.”
“Can’t fault him for that,” Augusta muttered darkly.
Neville frowned. “Are you alright?”
“No, I’m definitely not alright with any of this!” Augusta took a deep, calming breath. “But we will discuss at a later time my main concern about this situation. And we’ll include Harry in this discussion. - I assume he will come today?”
Neville nodded. “As soon as he’s found Sirius. Apparently, Sirius wanted to wait for him near his relative's house, so they could see each other. He had hoped that Sirius would come with him.”
Augusta raised her brows. “So, you just invited a fugitive into our home?”
“He is Harry’s godfather!” Neville reminded. “And never was convicted!”
“As far as you know.” Augusta sighed. “I’ll deal with it as soon as they are here. You understand that I have to make sure that he is no threat to any of us, yes?”
Neville nodded. “I guess.”
“I have another more pressing concern. You said that you had told me about your third year, but you did not.”
“I really thought I had.” Neville frowned, startled. “But … I can’t actually remember when or what we talked about. But I was convinced I had told you about it!”
“I would like to check something,” Augusta said, taking out her wand. “Please hold still for a moment.”
Neville did as instructed, disgruntled that his grandmother was casting silently so that he did not even know what she was doing. The crease between her brows kept growing in the minutes she was casting on him and Neville started to get really concerned.
“We should have put something on your medallion to block compulsions!” Augusta shook her head, impatience written all over her body language. “I should have put a ward on it to protect you from any kind of magic with a possible ill intent, as I wanted to!”
“But then it would have been discovered really quick!” Neville reminded. They had had a long discussion about it, or to be honest, Augusta had had a discussion with herself and Neville had listened to it for almost the whole year before he had gone to Hogwarts. “And that would have destroyed your picture of the distant, disappointed, uncaring grandmother.”
Augusta huffed. “Someday I will find a way to put Dumbledore in his place! Hard!”
“So, he put a compulsion on me?” Neville asked.
Augusta took a deep breath. “Yes. Probably on all students. One that wears off in a few weeks but leaves behind something like an echo. I have found three of those echoes in your magic and I would bet it was one for each year.”
Neville frowned. “But not this year?”
“Everyone knows about the tournament, it would be odd if the students wouldn’t talk about it at home. But barely anyone knows about the things that happened in your first or second year and obviously your third year, too.” Augusta huffed. “Do you remember how we agreed that I would make no waves about the petrified students until others started to make waves? I was really disgruntled that there was no one starting to make waves about it!”
“If the students weren’t talking about what had happened, no one would have known to make waves,” Neville concluded. “But I had told you about the things that had happened!”
“Because I asked extensively,” Augusta reminded. “After first year I asked a lot about Harry because he is your Sentinel. And he was part of all of it. And second year I had heard a rumour from the Board of Governors of Hogwarts, but only because I’m still closely acquainted with a few of them, even though I haven’t been on the board for over a decade. Last year I somehow saw no reason to question you as extensively.”
She shook her head. “It was very subtle compulsions, easily overcome if you were asked the right questions. Anything more would have been too easily discovered. And the goal seems to be that there are no questions asked about what is happening in this school. If it were discovered that students were cursed, there would be a lot of questions.”
Neville pursed his lips. “So, next year you’ll know to check me right away.”
Augusta raised her brows. “I’m not sure if it is a good idea for you and Harry to go back there at all!”
“Harry loves Hogwarts!” Neville protested.
“That may be so, but he will learn this summer about the threat it poses for both of you.” Augusta sighed but showed a small smile. “I don’t think he will toler…”
She was interrupted by the ward alarm, and Neville jumped from the sofa excitedly. “That has to be Harry!” The portkey he had given Harry was the only reason the wards had let him inside, but as his magical signature was still not part of the ward structure the alarm sounded nonetheless.
Augusta huffed. “And he indeed brought a guest. We should not let them wait.”