7 days before the ultimatum…
Neville kicked at the dirt impetuously as he wandered along the tracks.
He didn't know where he was exactly, the distance was undeterminable since he couldn't remember how far he had been walking. The tall peaks of Hogwarts and the dim glow of lights from Hogsmeade had long since disappeared from sight. At first, Neville was going to wander through the Forbidden Forest, but upon seeing a herd of centaurs slaughter some defenseless creature (the carcass was unidentifiable), Neville started following the train tracks of the now defunct Hogsmeade Express.
He was kicking a pebble along, imagining Harry's face as the target of the toe of his boots. The bruise from his punch still stung Neville's face, but Neville refused to treat it. It was a mark of Neville's weakness, his inability to hold Voldemort at bay. It was because of this incompetence that Neville left them. He couldn't stand keeping everyone in more danger than they already were.
Yet, Neville didn't quite realize how lonely it would be by himself. He kept reminding himself that it was for the greater good. It was for everyone else's benefit that he left. But he couldn't help but feel the bitter loneliness as his boots padded along the rusty rail tracks. He kept his head down, not wanting to see where he was headed for in truth, he didn't have the first clue as to where he was going.
It also didn't occur to him how vulnerable he was to be walking out in the open by a set of railroad tracks. Perhaps if he was in the right state of mind, he would have known that he was visible to almost anyone that happened to be flying over the particular area. For once his life, Neville was fortunate enough to avoid any sort of overhead detection - at least from wizards.
Muggles, on the other hand…
Neville didn't realize he was walking along some sort of paved roadway until he heard the soft hum of an engine. He alertly threw himself into a row of bushes, muttering a concealment charm in the process. The searching beams of the headlights peeked over the crest of the hill. It was some sort of old, creaky car. The engine rumbled loudly which contrasted the rather feminine pink of the antique car. Neville couldn't make out the number of passengers in the car since the headlights blinded his vision. It was only dusk but it was dark enough to limit his view.
The car suddenly stopped and the headlights switched off, not more than twenty meters from Neville's spot. For a moment, he feared that the passengers had spotted them but reminded himself that he had long been concealed even before the car crested the hill. All four doors snapped open and out stepped what looked to be a normal four-person Muggle family.
The father was a tall, thin, balding man with thick glasses. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood, inspecting it with a harried look about him. The mother was an equally thin woman but was shorter. She was attending to what looked to be a younger son and her teenage daughter. Feeling curious, Neville crept out, still hidden, so he could get closer to the Muggle family.
"…I told you we wouldn't be able to make it back to Sussex with this car! It's rubbish now!" the wife said to the husband.
"Now calm down, this car's been through a lot and it's not going to give up on us now. It just needs a little something…" the husband seemed to hit something under the car's hood with his hand.
"Jamie, are you hungry, love?" the mother asked the son.
"No, mum," Jamie said sullenly.
"It's okay, dear," she stroked his cheek gently, "We're almost back with your uncle and we all know how uncle loves his food."
"Maybe he wouldn't be so fat if he loved it a bit less," the daughter interjected.
The mother sighed, "Well, for once his gluttony will help us out a bit. He has enough food stored up in his house to feed an entire country."
"If he even let's us in," the daughter said darkly.
"He'll let us in, Cheryl, he's family," the mother reprimanded her.
"He's a pig, mum," Cheryl responded.
"He sort of looks like a pig!" Jamie added, his sullenness broken a bit by his comment.
The mother couldn't help but chuckle slightly, "I know what you mean."
"Oi! Don't think I can't hear you talking about my brother!" the father yelled from his spot under the hood.
"It's okay, Wayne, they're just a bit cranky," the mother winked at her children.
"Well, Colleen, they shouldn't be cranky because I fixed the car!" Wayne excited raced around to the driver's seat and yelped as the engine started, "We're back in business!"
Thinking on the fly, Neville cancelled the concealment charm. Charming his duffel bag so that it was set to only open for him, Neville stowed his wand and carefully walked into the path of the road as if he were lost. The family easily caught sight of him and froze, unsure as of how to react to the stranger.
Neville play faked that he didn't know the car was there and shielded his eyes slightly from the bright headlights. He stepped forward with his hands in the air, trying to claim his innocence.
"Hello! Is anybody there?!" Neville called out.
Neville could see Wayne and Colleen furiously whispering to each other and gesturing to him. Cheryl was shielding Jamie from Neville, aware of the dangers presented by strangers such as the wizard-they-knew-not. After a few more moments of hushed arguing, Wayne straightened and stuck his head out of the car.
"I'm sorry! We're full in here!" Wayne called out.
"Oh," Neville dropped his head, "It's okay, I understand."
Neville started shuffling his feet, walking as if he were going to head out into the next green clearing. He knew he was being pitiful but honestly, he was desperate to return back to the London area. It also wouldn't hurt to have some company, even if it was a family of Muggles. After a few moments, Neville could hear the car come rolling to a stop next to him.
"Young man!" Colleen called out, "I think we can make a bit of space for you."
It was obvious that Colleen was the one who pitied Neville and decided to take in the boy. She looked at him warily but at the same time invitingly, a mixture of apprehension and pity. Neville squeezed into the three-passenger back seat, sitting next to Jamie. Cheryl had both of her arms wrapped around her little brother, not meeting Neville's eyes and looking straight ahead instead.
Neville coughed to clear his throat, "Thanks for taking me in. I've been wandering about for a while and needed a way to get back to the London area."
"Why were you alone?" Wayne asked suspiciously, eyeing Neville through the rearview mirror as a he started the car again.
"I lost my friends recently," Neville wasn't telling an outright lie. It felt as if he had lost all his friends.
"I'm sorry," Colleen simply replied, implicitly excusing Wayne's rudeness, "What are you heading to London for? Shouldn't you be trying to get away? I've heard the attacks are just getting worse…"
"There's someone that can help me there."
"Family?"
"Not exactly," Neville left it that, making it clear that he didn't want to talk about it anymore. Wayne's eyes snapped to the rearview mirror at the sudden secrecy, but Neville wasn't about to share his deepest darkest secrets with a few Muggles.
They drove in silence for a little while, Wayne constantly peeking at Neville through the rearview mirror. Neville did his best to ignore the suspicious glances and kept his eyes glued to the barren countryside. It was largely devoid of any activity, even when they drove by small towns. Once or twice, Neville thought he spotted a shimmer of magic in the distance and gripped the seat tightly, hoping that the worse wouldn't appear out of the blue.
"What's your name?" Jamie suddenly asked, looking at Neville curiously.
Neville watched as Cheryl tightened her arms around Jamie but nonetheless replied, "I'm Neville."
He figured that his name wouldn't be too popular amongst the Muggle crowd.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Jamie and this is Cheryl," Jamie innocently pointed at his sister. Cheryl shushed him, fearful that Neville was of malicious intent, but Neville just smiled at the young boy.
"Nice to meet you, Jamie. Want to see something cool?"
"Sure!"
Neville lifted the fringe of his hair to reveal his famous lightning-shaped scar. He pointed to it and said, "I got this scar when I was baby. My parents dropped me and left me with this scar. I remember crying a lot, but doesn't it look pretty cool?"
"It looks like a lightning bolt," Jamie stared at it amusedly.
"Yes it does. It's kind of my thing," Neville smiled at the little boy again, feeling a connection with him.
"What could your parents have possibly dropped you on?" Cheryl said with her nose scrunched.
"Don't remember," Neville fibbed.
"I think it's cool," Jamie added.
"Jamie, don't make fun of people's scars," Colleen reprimanded him from the front seat.
"Oh - don't worry. I'm kind of famous for it," Neville winked at Jamie and caused the little boy to giggle behind his mother's back.
Colleen heard the small chuckle of her soon and smiled to herself. It had been a while since there was something to smile about. She had a good feeling about this boy, despite the dangers of taking a strange hitchhiker in this sort of climate. Still, he had a good aura about him and Colleen firmly believed in those sorts of things.
Wayne, on the other hand, was still apprehensive but it was simply his protective nature. Ever since the tower rose, one never knew who to trust and his family was only one step away from being attacked by those…things.
Neville kept joking with Jamie and entertaining him with fantastical tales about his make believe Muggle school. He told Jamie of his two friends, Bill and Jane and how they always did everything together. He explained their slimy chemistry professor and their amusing mathematics professor. Neville continued to weave the tale to and fro, for once enjoying the prospect of not living his life.
Neville fabricated the story into deeper and deeper levels, thoroughly enjoying himself. He could even spot Cheryl smile a little bit at some of his more amusing anecdotes. He caught her eye a couple times and smiled, noting that she was indeed very pretty. She had long, curly brown hair and delightful almond eyes. Even though her face was constantly set in a serious stone, Neville could see that she had to restrain from smiling at him as he continued to tell the Muggle version of his life story, obviously omitting the more ominous parts.
"So what happened in the third task?" Jamie eagerly asked.
"Well, Charles and I decided to take the trophy together so that we both win and we did just that," Neville revealed the alternate ending.
"Yay! Everyone wins!" Jamie clapped.
"Quite an interesting school you went to," Cheryl noted, "What was it called again?"
"Hoggington," Neville made the name up on the spot, "Private school in Scotland."
"You must be pretty well off then. What do your parents do?" Cheryl asked noisily.
"Um - my parents are dead. I'm on scholarship to the school," Neville half-lied.
"Oh," Cheryl looked properly chastised and the glare from her mother only confirmed it, "Sorry to hear that."
"They died when I was young," Neville shrugged, "It's okay."
They fell into an uncomfortable silence after that, Jamie half-heartedly asking questions about Neville's life. Neville continued to entertain the little boy with a couple of stories but his voice trailed off as he caught sight of the towering pillars of smoke and ash in the London skyline.
"We should stop here and find a place to stay for the night," Wayne's face was dark as he examined the dark skyline.
Neville suddenly recognized an abandoned building that he, Ron and Hermione used while they were on the run. He cleared his throat and pointed to it as they drove closer to the granite building.
"If you pull over here, I think I know a spot."
"You think you know a spot?" Wayne skeptically asked.
"My friends and I used it not too long ago," Neville admitted.
Wayne hesitated but eventually pulled the car into an alleyway between one building and another. Neville hopped out and did a quick sweep of the area. He was used to clearing out a space to safely live in since he had previously been on the run for a while. After determining there were no Death Eaters around, Neville found the room that Hermione had picked out for them. It was a good size for a family of four and provided enough exits should a stray Mixer or violent Muggle found them.
After he showed the family the empty room, Neville discretely went around and erected safety wards with his wand. He tuned it so the family wouldn't notice any sudden magical changes. After checking and rechecking several times, Neville was finally satisfied and returned to the room. He spotted Jamie eating a loaf of bread with some sort of butter spread. Feeling sorry for the child, Neville reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a chocolate truffle he knicked from the kitchens before he left.
"Here you go," Neville said.
Jamie salivated at the sight and took it appreciatively, downing it in quick bites. Colleen smiled gratefully at him, feeling more and more sure that they had made the right decision in taking in the boy. They continued to get settled as the night grew darker and darker until only the moon was shining high in the sky. Jamie was long asleep, his head laying in his sister's lap.
Satisfied that Jamie was finally slumbering, Wayne turned to interrogate Neville more truthfully, "So what's your real story, lad? It's not that safe for a young man such as yourself to be wandering the countryside in times like these."
"My friends and I got separated from our families during the beginning of the Wa - I mean, the tower. It was sort of hectic at the time and my two friends and I have been on the run ever since. I recently…got separated from them," Neville started slowly, unsure as to how much he should reveal. In the end, he delivered a mostly truthful version of his story.
"So you're coming back to London to find them?" Colleen asked.
"No," Neville bowed his head, "I'm afraid I have no clue as to where they are."
"I'm so sorry," Colleen held a hand to her heart.
"So am I."
"So what is in London then?" asked Cheryl, the ever inquisitive one.
"I think there's someone there that can help me."
This was a total lie. Neville was looking for a Horcrux but didn't know what it even was. Considering the fact that Dumbledore's memories had Voldemort working at Borgin and Burke's, it wouldn't hurt to revisit that store for a start. But Neville couldn't possibly explain any of that to them.
"I'm sorry if we didn't take you in right away," Wayne apologized, "You have to understand. We were just looking out for our kids."
"It's okay," Neville placated them, "I'd do the same - if I had kids I mean. Jamie's a good one."
"He's our little angel," Colleen smiled warmly at the sleeping boy.
"Where are you headed to?" Neville changed the subject so no more questions were asked about him.
"My brother's still living in his house. We tried to leave England but it was too dangerous to go near the airports," Wayne trailed off as if he were remembering a harsh time, "Last time I talked to him, they were sealing up their house and collecting rations for themselves. Hopefully, they're still there."
"I see."
The story was consistent with most Muggles nowadays. Unable to leave the island and fearful of the strange seemingly magical people, the Muggles kept to themselves and simply hoped that an attack wouldn't suddenly befall them. Neville couldn't possibly imagine the helplessness they felt.
"Well, thank you for taking me in. I know it took a lot to trust me to stay with you."
"And don't you go doing anything that might prove us otherwise," Colleen was wagging her finger at Neville but the smile bellied a lighter tone in her voice.
"Trust me, I won't."
------------------------------------------
5 days before the ultimatum…
They spent an extra day at the abandoned building as they had heard multiple scuffles and noises in the near distance. Neville went out to check but found only trace of a battle between Muggle soldiers and Mixers. Not wanting to bring any trouble to the family, Neville hastily fled the scene and advised them to stay for another day. After a relatively uneventful night, they set out to the Sussex area once again.
It seemed contradictory to travel by day when you were most visible but from personal experience, Neville discovered that the Death Eaters somehow attacked less in the daytime. Maybe they just wanted to be dramatic and attack in the night, but for the most part, traveling by day was a safer exercise than trying to navigate the road by night.
Unfortunately, they would have to travel through London in order to exit on the other side of the city. Neville knew first hand that things could get ugly fast and kept his wand tightly pinned to his side, fearful of any sudden attacks. Wayne, even though he didn't quite understand magic, seemed to realize Neville's tenseness and drove with white knuckles on the steering wheel.
Neville felt the car shudder a few times, the vibrations from the ground reminiscent of either a giant or a troll. His heart pounded as he kept his hand within his jacket, a deathly grip on his wand. Wayne kept driving, occasionally seeing a haggardly looking person peeking out from a window or two. Once or twice, a few Mixers (and they knew it was a mixer since they wore the appropriate garb) looked like they were entertaining the idea of stopping the car from going far. Fortunately, they seemed to have a different problem or something else higher in their priorities. They escaped to the other side of London without much more hubbub.
Neville knew that he could have easily left the car in London and proceeded to Borkin's on his own but a part of him wanted to stay with this family. Even though he had only been with them for two days, he felt a connection to them and didn't want to leave them to their own fortunes. His protectiveness over them kept him in the car as they exited London.
As they continued driving, Wayne suddenly cursed to himself, "Dammit, I think I read it wrong."
"Read what wrong?" Colleen asked in concern.
"The address," Wayne was reading a smudged piece of writing on a small paper, "I think we're supposed to head to Surrey not Sussex."
"That's not too far of a detour," Colleen assuaged him.
"No - not really," Wayne exhaled, "We should get there by nightfall."
Neville noted the little detail and leaned his head against the window and stared at the sky. Dark clouds loomed along the horizon. A thunderstorm was headed their way and Neville hoped that they could somehow avoid driving in such a maelstrom. The sun started setting in the sky as they drove, unperturbed, to Surrey. In truth, Neville was surprised by the simplicity of their travel. Here they were, driving on the main streets of England and no one was even trying to stop them. Of course, Neville spotted a couple of other cars zipping along the highway as well but for the most part, Wayne seemed to know several back roads that avoided the main streets.
The sun was setting as Wayne pulled into a series of similar looking houses. For all their monotony though, the dense overgrowth of their lawns were indicators of the lack of inhabitants in the previously quaint town. The first drops of rain slapped against the windshield, causing Neville to pull back from the cool glass. The rain started slow but was picking up by the second. Wayne suddenly pulled into a driveway and killed the engine. The only sound was the pitter patter of the rain smashing against the car.
"Number Four Privet Drive," Wayne read, "This is the place."
The first thing Neville noticed was that every window was boarded up, not allowing anyone to see in or out of it from his vantage point. The lawn was similarly overgrown but Neville spotted creases in the grass and broken twigs as if something heavy had been dragged over it. From the outside, it looked wholly unoccupied and as if no one had lived there in quite a while. Cheryl evidently had similar thoughts.
"It looks empty," she said.
"Brother did say they were having second thoughts about boarding up in here," Wayne whispered, still sitting in the driver's seat.
"I'll check it," Neville said as he unbuckled his seat belt, "You can stay in the car."
"Neville, you don't have to do that -" Colleen started.
""No it's okay," Neville interrupted, "My friends and I used to check out buildings to see if they were safe. I've done this numerous times."
Neville wrapped his jacket tightly around him as he exited the car and warily approached the house. He kept his eyes as open as he could through the steady stream of rain. There seemed to be no movement and a complete lack of magical atmosphere. Neville could usually feel the touch of magic, it was too evident not to feel if you were a wizard, but there seemed to be a complete absence of anything magical within the premises. At least Neville could take solace in the fact that he could more easily face a trap of Mixers than a trap of Death Eaters.
Neville circled the house, checking to see if there were any other entrances. There seemed to be a back door in the backyard but it was sealed shut with cement filling the edges of the door. Neville hesitantly tried an Alohamora on the door but it didn't move, indicating there was neither a doorknob nor hinges that could be undone. Not wanting to use force unless necessary, Neville circled around the front and looked at the front door. There was only one way to find out if someone was inside.
He knocked three times, crisp and loud in case anyone couldn't hear it. Then, he stood to the side with his hand tucked in his jacket. He listened closely to footsteps and was awarded when he heard the steady thump of someone heavy approaching the door. The footsteps stopped and Neville knew that whoever was inside was standing on the other side of the door.
A gruff voice suddenly spoke out, "Who's there?!"
Neville took a moment to consider his options before replying, "It's a friend of your brother - Wayne!"
There was a pause before the voice spoke out again, "If you're his friend then where is he? Where's Wayne?"
Neville, still out of sight from the peephole at the front door, signaled for Wayne to get out of the car. Wayne exited and jogged towards the door, his head kept low to avoid the rain. He walked up the steps and was in clear view of the peephole.
"Vernon!" Wayne called out, "It's me!"
"Prove it!" Vernon barked.
"Prove it?! Vernon, don't be ridiculous! Can't you see me!?"
"I'm not going to believe you until you tell me something that proves you're Wayne! I know what you crazy fools can do!" Vernon yelled.
"Vernon," Wayne sighed exasperatedly, "When you were little, your favorite toys were a bulldozer and a drill that Mum gave us when we were about five. You hit me when I accidentally broke the bulldozer."
There was a pause before Neville heard several latches unlocking from within. The door opened and Neville finally saw this Vernon character. He was a large man, there was no doubt of that. He had a bushy mustache and small, beady eyes that gave him the look of a person in perpetual anger. But for right now, there were tears in his eyes as he regarded his brother. Dropping the shotgun held in his hand, he wrapped his arms around Wayne in a big hug.
Wayne returned the hug and pulled back, "It's good to see you still clicking, Vernon."
"We do what we can," Vernon gruffly said. He spotted Neville leaning against the side of the house and regarded him coolly, "Family?"
"Friend," Neville stepped forward with his hand outstretched, "Neville."
Vernon begrudgingly shook his hand, looking at it warily before turning to his brother, "Are Colleen and the kids with you?"
"Yeah," Wayne gave the thumbs up to his car to indicate that the coast was clear. Colleen and the kids immediately rushed out and gathered what belongings they had as they jogged through the rain and into the front porch of the house. Pleasantries were exchanged as Colleen profusely thanked Vernon for taking them into their house. Neville followed everyone inside and was immediately arrested by how normal everything looked inside.
The house was immaculately clean, from the perfect arrangement in the living room to the spotless kitchen. If it wasn't for the fact that Vernon was walking around carrying a shotgun, Neville would have suspected that nothing was amiss at Number Four Privet Drive. It was only when Vernon led them to a hidden door that led to a basement did Neville finally see the effects of the War.
In the basement, there were stores and stores of food packing and lining the walls. A generator hummed in the corner, no doubt providing electricity to the house. Off to the side was a small armory with assorted handguns and rifles. It looked hardly used though Neville could see a spot on the wall that fit Vernon's shotgun. Vernon whistled loudly and another door opened from within the basement.
Out stepped his apparent wife and child. His wife, in contrast to her husband's beefy body, was thin to the bone and had a horse face. She looked incredibly strict and nervous as she nodded to Wayne and his family. The son, who eerily resembled his father, looked just as nervous but slightly more appreciative of their new companions.
"Errr," Vernon stuttered as he remembered Neville didn't know the family, "Neville, this is my wife, Petunia, and my son, Dudley."
Neville quietly murmured hello as he didn't want to scare the family away. They looked nervous enough as it was. There was an awkward silence as no one knew what to say. What could one say in a time like this? Surprisingly, it was Petunia who broke the ice.
"Colleen, do you want to help me set up dinner?" Petunia timidly asked.
"That would be lovely," Colleen exhaled.
The husbands soon followed them upstairs and left the three teenagers and one child to their own devices. They looked at each other with questioning looks on their faces, all thinking the same thing. It was Cheryl who relayed their feelings.
"So…what now?"
--------------------------------------------
4 days before the ultimatum…
Dinner from the previous night was a pleasant if not a bit forced affair. The adults exchanged small talk as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Neville was just grateful for food that wasn't kept in his duffel bag for once. When everyone as about to go to sleep, Neville was surprised to see Vernon accompany him to the living room. Vernon didn't strike Neville as a particularly caring individual, but apparently, Vernon slept every night in the living room with his shotgun close at hand in case someone broke through the front door. The front door was the only way in and out of the house and was dead-bolted several times over, ensuring their safety as much as it could.
With the rest of the kids still asleep, Neville was sitting in the kitchen, idly eating some leftovers from the night before. In walked in Vernon and Wayne, discussing something in low, huddled overtones. Wayne greeted Neville warmly as he took a seat across from him at the table while Vernon grunted his hello. They ate for a little while, murmuring to themselves quietly.
Vernon cleared his throat and looked at Neville, "We have to go out for more supplies now that there are a couple more people here. Are you up for the task, boy?"
"Yes, sir," Neville simply replied, biting his cheek to keep the sardonic smile from breaking out in his face.
"Good," Vernon said gruffly, "We leave in ten."
Neville quickly munched the rest of his food in one gulp and set off to his duffel bag to collect equipment. He wouldn't need much besides his wand if they were trying to collect food but it didn't hurt to stay prepared. He heard Wayne call out his name and rushed back up the stairs to the front door. Vernon was leaving strict instructions for Petunia in case they took a bit longer to come back. Neville ducked as he witnessed a tender moment between the fat man and the thin lady but was thankfully saved by Cheryl tapping him on the shoulder.
"Are you going with them?" she asked him.
"I suppose I am," Neville shrugged.
Cheryl hesitated for a second before smacking him in the shoulder, "Come back, okay? Jamie will miss you if you don't."
"I'll make sure to do my best," Neville grinned at her.
Vernon called for Neville once again and the three males strode out the door to retrieve the food. Vernon, as usual, was carrying his shotgun in his hand while Wayne looked decidedly uncomfortable with a small handgun. Vernon surprised Neville by offering him a pistol as well. Neville took it but had no intention of using it whatsoever. It was definitely more harm than good in his hands.
They took Wayne's car out to a local grocery that Vernon had been using to replenish their supplies. Vernon had already raided many of the other stores by himself and it was only a matter of time before he would have to venture further and further away from home to retrieve supplies. For now though, whatever was available at the super market would have to do.
They arrived at the rather dilapidated store. Some of the windows were broken and litter was scattered throughout the parking lot but there seemed to be no one around. The only sound was the occasional metal can skittering along the ground. Wayne looked incredibly nervous as he exited the car, no doubt to the gun he held in his hand. Vernon looked more authoritative but worried nonetheless.
"Get what you can, but don't take too long. If you run into trouble, give a shout," Vernon ordered them.
They decided to ostensibly split up in order to get as much food as possible. Vernon reminded them to go after perishable items since most of the refrigerated items here were already rotten from the refrigerators dying. Neville could smell the aftermath of the rotten meats and avoided that section of the store. He settled with idly picking up other items as he strolled casually through the store.
It struck Neville that there were a surprising amount of items readily available for him to harvest and gather. He thought that most people would have already taken all the foods and goods months ago but for some reason there were still items to collect. It never occurred to him why exactly Vernon brought a shotgun until he heard the shot ring out.
The small pop told Neville that it couldn't have been Vernon. The fact that there was only one shot worried Neville as he hurriedly raced across the store towards the noise's origin. He turned the corner just in time to see a body on the ground, blood pooling around him. Wayne stood over him in shock, his gun still pointed at him.
"What happened?!?" Neville demanded.
Vernon barreled around the aisle, huffing heavily and his shotgun ready in hand, "Wayne??"
"I - I - I - he surprised me!" Wayne stuttered, his eyes wide as he looked at the body lying on the ground.
Vernon kneeled down and placed his pudgy fingers on the carotid artery, "Dead."
"He just came around the corner and surprised me and I just couldn't - he came too fast!" Wayne kept blabbing, still frozen.
"Mixer," Neville assessed gravely as he spotted the telling tattoo on the inside of his forearm, "People will have heard that."
"Too true," Vernon said gruffly.
"What was he doing here?" Wayne bewilderedly asked, still in shock from having shot someone.
"They send patrols out here sometimes to see if anyone's in the stores. That's why there's still food on the shelves. It's bait essentially," Vernon informed him as they rushed out of the store with whatever food they had.
"So you essentially lead us into a trap?!"
"I gave you the gun didn't I?" Vernon snarled.
Neville suddenly heard several distinct pops. He couldn't mistake the noise even if he tried. There were the sounds of numerous people Apparating.
"We have trouble," Neville informed them, handing Vernon the pistol and reaching into his jacket for his wand.
"Trouble? Why are you giving me this?" Vernon asked as he held the pistol in his hand.
"Won't need it," Neville whispered as he indicated for the two older men to hide behind an overturned metal casing.
Holding a hand to his lips to shush the two Muggles, Neville saw his theory come to fruition as he spotted three men under hooded cloaks walking towards the dead Mixer. Neville spotted their wands in their hands and apparently Wayne and Vernon knew enough about wizards to know who they were. Vernon gripped the shotgun tight in his hand, his eyes impossibly narrowing even further.
Neville knew he could take the three of them by surprise easily. The only problem was that in order to do so, he would have to reveal to Wayne and Vernon that he was indeed a wizard. While he didn't have any qualms of doing so, he was fearful that Vernon would somehow associate his brother with him and kick him out of their safe house just because they harbored a wizard. The look on Vernon's face was all Neville needed to realize how much the fat man hated magic.
"Listen," Neville said as he formulated his plan, "You two can still get away while I provide a distraction. Come back for me when you can."
"No! We can't let you do that! We'll all get out of here together," Wayne shakily said though Neville did note that Vernon certainly didn't object to the plan.
"You both have families that you need to get back to. I don't have anyone," Neville did his best to keep the bitterness out of his voice, "Just go and come back for me. I promise I'll still be here."
Wayne hesitated again as he remembered his wife and children. Vernon had already made his decision and tugged on his brother's arm, "We'll come back for the boy, I promise."
Wayne looked up at his brother and nodded numbly, "Stay safe, Neville. I promise we'll come back for you."
"I know you will."
Vernon and Wayne slinked away - well, Wayne slinked away while Vernon lumbered as best as he could on his tiptoes. Once they were safely away from the aisle, Neville turned his attention to the three wizards still inspecting the dead mixer. Neville couldn't see their faces so he didn't know what exactly they were capable of but it didn't hurt to be safe.
He pulled out one of his last flasks of Peruvian darkness in order to ensure he completed the task. Ordinarily, the powder was used as a distraction to escape from one's chasers, but Neville could also use it to disorient the wizards and take them down without them ever seeing him.
He hurdled over the metal casing and rushed to them with the powder in hand. He quickly threw the powder over the trio of wizards, shrouding them in darkness. They yelled in confusion and Neville quickly hit two of them with well placed Stunners. He would need the third one capable of speech and completely oriented. One Expelliarmus and one Incareous later, the third wizard was bound on the ground and without his wand.
Neville rushed to him and placed his hands over the wizard's eyes so the Death Eater wouldn't now who he was. He lowered his voice a pitch, using a bit of his Parseltongue to inflect a more sinister tone.
"What are you doing here?" Neville hissed in English.
"What? Who are you? What is this?!" the Death Eater yelped.
Neville jabbed his wand into the man's throat and ordered again, "Why are you here?!"
The Death Eater choked and stuttered, "Just a fucking patrol. That's what happens when Mixers used for bait suddenly die."
"And nothing else? You haven't seen anything?" Neville wanted to make sure they didn't know about Vernon or Wayne.
"Fucking no," the Death Eater sputtered.
"Good," Neville stunned him a second later and stood over the three bodies, slightly admiring his body of work.
He pondered for a second what he should do with the three prisoners. On one hand, he could let them live as he would have plenty of time to escape back to Privet Drive. If he let them live, however, they would certainly make note of wizard activity in the area and possibly lead them back to Number Four. He wasn't as handy as Hermione with Obliviation charms so he didn't quite know how well it would work.
In the end, Neville settled with keeping them bound and gagged and attempting a variation of the memory charm. He hoped he performed the charm correctly but really had no idea of discovering if it worked. Not wanting to wake the wizards and have them realize who he was, Neville left them to their own devices, queasy of actually entertaining the prospect of…killing them.
He exited the market and started walking back to Privet Drive, wary of any trouble that might occur. Fortunately, he spotted the impossible to miss pink car driving back in the direction of the market. Neville rushed to it with his arms raised, grateful to see that they indeed came back. He piled into the back seat, thankful that they kept their promise.
"You got away!" Wayne exclaimed.
"Yeah. Distracted them long enough but somehow found a way to escape them," Neville smoothly lied, "We should be alright."
"Did you take care of them?" Vernon asked.
"Of course."
"No - I mean, take care of them?" Vernon repeated.
"I don't follow," Neville frowned.
Vernon shifted in his seat, a feat that was difficult for a man in his size. He looked at Wayne and Neville uncomfortably before saying, "Did you kill them?"
"Vernon!" Wayne exclaimed, "Kill them?!"
"How do you think they've avoided this area all this time? You take care of them and make sure they don't tell their friends and they leave this area alone! It's worked so far!"
"Or they could just keep going after you!" Wayne shot back, "Either way, you can't just keep killing everyone!"
"It's worked so far," Vernon kept arguing, his face now turning purple, "I won't have you jeopardizing my family, Wayne."
"My family is here too," Wayne reminded him, "We can't just kill everyone."
"I didn't kill them," Neville said quietly.
"Of course you didn't," Vernon huffed, "Never send a boy to do a man's job…"
"Vernon!" Wayne was shocked at his brother's behavior, "He almost sacrificed himself to save us."
"Then he should have finished the job!" Vernon spit out, "They could follow us back here for all we know."
And apparently, Vernon was correct.
They were not a mile from Number Four, but Neville could easily spot the three blurs flying in the sky straight towards the pink car. Wayne and Vernon were still arguing but Neville already had his wand out.
"Protego!"
Neville managed to deflect the Blasting curse as it splintered against the shield and struck the ground on either side of the car. It shook the already creaking car and Wayne yelped as he realized that something was definitely amiss.
"What the fu…" Vernon trailed off as he stared at the wand in Neville's hand.
"No time," Neville grunted his explanation as he shot a spell in the sky at the flying wizard.
Neville never excelled at combat in flight, perhaps due to his ineffectiveness on a broom, and was no better at shooting down flying targets from the ground. His spells were wayward and off target but Wayne was maneuvering the car to avoid the random blasting and cursing hexes. Vernon, for his part, was angrily shooting his shotgun into the air but it seemed to have no effect on the wizards.
"I knew you were trouble!" Vernon yelled as another Blasting curse struck the ground next to the car.
"I was just trying to help!" Neville yelled back as he twisted his body and finally struck one of the wizards.
Vernon couldn't rebuttal as a curse finally struck the car and caused it to spin out of the control. Neville held on tight to his seat belt, the G-forces pulling him to and fro as the car struck a curb and flipped into the air, barreling several times. Neville hastily cast a Cushioning Charm, hoping for the best. They clattered against the car, but Neville felt his charm hit work as his head bounced off the metal interior.
Wayne and Vernon were groaning as they attempted to get out of the car. Neville was faster and scrambled outside to defend against the aerial assault. Once again, Neville's aim failed him as he missed time and time again. The Death Eaters were circling around him as if they were a vulture and he was their soon to be dead carcass. Neville managed to avoid a nasty looking purple curse and only raised a shield just in time to deflect another curse.
"Stupid fucking magic," Vernon growled as he army crawled out of the car and shot a few shells into the air in futility.
"Vernon, stay inside!" Neville ordered as he redirected a hex sent to the Muggle man.
"Fuck you," Vernon spit, "You brought this onto us!"
"I might have, but GET BACK IN THE CAR!" Neville couldn't care for anything else at the moment.
Distracted by Vernon, Neville didn't see the Disarming charm from behind him. It him in the back and he felt his wand fly through the air and land twenty feet in front of him. Panicking, he started to scramble for his wand and didn't see the Blasting charm aimed at his feet. It hit the ground next to him, sending him end over end in the air and forcing him to land on his back, knocking the air out of him.
Neville distinctly heard the yells of Wayne and Vernon as the Death Eaters touched down on the ground but was too dazed to do anything about it. He was crawling to his wand, desperate to reach it in order to do something about the Death Eaters. He was still crawling when a Death Eater suddenly cut him off, standing before him with his sinister mask in place.
The Death Eater raised his wand, not a Killing Curse on his lips, but something else to give Neville to his master. As he started the downwards slashing motion, however, the Death Eater suddenly burst apart in a massive shower of blood and guts. There was a gaping hole where his chest was and the Death Eater looked shocked to have been hit by a mere Muggle weapon. Behind Neville, Vernon Dursley was on his feet, shotgun in his hand and an irreversibly contemptuous look in his eyes.
The two other Death Eaters were momentarily shocked and the slight pause allowed Neville to crawl the final few feet and reach his wand. Now that the Death Eaters were on the ground, he dispatched them easily as they were still in shock from their fellow Death Eater's dismemberment.
Neville collapsed against the ground, his energy spent and his limbs sore and tired from the attacks. He felt a sudden panic as someone placed a boot against his chest. It didn't occur to him that it was Vernon who was standing over him, the gun straight in his face.
"Vernon?! What are you doing?" Wayne asked.
"What am I doing?" Vernon said with a maniac look on his face, "What are you doing? Did you know he was one of them, Wayne? Did YOU?"
"He didn't," Neville managed to spit out.
"No! No! I didn't," Wayne agreed, "We picked him up and he didn't say anything about it."
"Of course he wouldn't," Vernon snarled, "He's probably trying to infiltrate us. Learn our ways and then kill us in our sleep!" Vernon roared the last part in Neville's face.
"I'm not," Neville wheezed, too tired to push Vernon's large foot off his chest.
"Vernon! He just helped us. Please don't do this," begged the sympathetic Wayne.
Vernon narrowed his eyes at Neville, weighing the options in his rather miniscule brain. He finally lifted his foot off his chest and raised the shotgun. Still looking at Neville venomously, Vernon decided on another option.
"He lives, but he gets as far away as he can. He can't stay with us. Boy obviously just attracts danger," Vernon spit on the ground next to Neville's face, "You stay with us, Wayne, but he goes."
Wayne looked desperately at Neville, the desolation and inevitability written across his face, "I'm sorry, Neville."
Wayne and Vernon started walking back to Number Four, leaving Neville on the ground, lying on his back and wondering what else could possibly go wrong.
-------------------------------------
2 days before the ultimatum…
Neville was allowed to retrieve his belongings from Number Four. Jamie and Cheryl were confused as to why he was leaving and Vernon granted him a small peace in saying that he was leaving out of his own accord. Vernon, after all, didn't want to frighten the children anymore than they already were and inform them that Neville was indeed a wizard. Wayne simply looked sadly after him, not willing to stand up for Neville against his brother.
So Neville set out to London again, the bitterness in his heart ever growing as yet another family rejected him for his attraction to danger. For some reason or maybe it was just the suddenness of it all, their rejection hurt more in his heart. It was as if the sudden realization that he was a wizard who attracted attention was enough to dispel him despite his connection to the family. Neville walked morosely along the road, spotting the pillars of ash and smoke in the sky and not really caring for his own safety at the moment.
He briefly ran into Nott and his group but blew them off angrily, thoughts of Harry and his captaincy angering him yet again. He could do this by himself. He was determined to. He arrived at Borgin and Burke's a day later, managing to avoid detection in the process. A few concealment charms and a handy ability to go unnoticed went a long way to strolling back into Diagon and Knockturn Alley, even in this Death eater infested world.
He walked into the store and was surprised to find the owner indeed sitting there, looking unperturbed. Of course, the Death Eaters probably didn't bother him. Neville kept his jacket tight and the hood of his sweatshirt underneath the jacket on his head. He was strolling around the store, not really knowing what his plan was. The best course of action was probably to interrogate Borgin and see if he knew anything about ancient relics, but Neville was surprised to find something catch his eye.
He was drawn to it inexplicably, not quite believing his fortune. Would Voldemort really leave one of his Horcruxes so out in the open…again? It didn't take a genius to figure out that the diadem belonged to Ravenclaw. The crest was evident right on the crown. But Neville couldn't quite believe it. Was a part of Voldemort's soul on display? There was definitely something suspicious afoot, but Neville couldn't be bothered as to why at the moment.
It would have been foolish to ask for a price since Neville didn't have any money on him. It also would have been too auspicious to simply break the glass case and steal the diadem. He simply went to the next best option - at least in his mind, it was the easiest option.
He approached the owner and quickly cast an Imperio on him. It occurred to Neville that this wasn't exactly a great moral approach, but frankly, Neville was beyond caring. The only objective in his mind was to retrieve that diadem and not even Voldemort's surprisingly absent mind-attacks or morals would stop him.
Neville tucked the diadem into his duffel bag and exited Diagon Alley without anymore hubbub. Too driven by his desire to obtain the Horcruxes, Neville didn't give a second thought of how easy it was to obtain the diadem…
--------------------------------
Post-ultimatum…
Neville spent the next two days holed up in an obviously Muggle residence, trying to decide what to do with the Horcruxes. He still had the basilisk fang in a compartment in his duffel bag, but he didn't quite know how to go about destroying them. The locket, once again, was difficult to remove.
Neville was moving safe houses when he suddenly stumbled into a room full of other Muggles. They looked at him hesitantly, not seeing his face under the hood. They were in various states of disarray but several people were laying on makeshift beds or sitting on chairs. They had a haggard look about them as if they had been in this locale for quite some time, but they weren't immediately hostile to Neville.
Neville pulled back his hood and gestured to them with a wave, "Hey."
He mistook the sudden wide look in their eyes as just surprise. Neville was unaware of the events that had transpired just the day before. He waved to them and took up a spot in a corner as he considered his options again. Unaware that the Muggles would ever do anything against him, Neville didn't think anything when the Muggles continued to move closer and closer to him.
It was a surprise when one of them grabbed his arm.
"What are you doing?" Neville cautiously asked as a man with hollow eyes looked at him.
"You're Neville Longbottom…"
It was more of a statement than a question.
"How'd you know that?" Neville slowly asked, his other hand reaching for his wand.
He was unfortunately stopped by another hand grabbing his free arm.
"Let go of me," Neville hissed.
But the Muggles didn't listen and started tugging him to his feet pulling at him. Neville tried to fight them off, struggling furiously to reach his wand, but there were too many Muggles intent on grabbing him and hauling him to his feet. He was fearful of them, wondering how they possibly knew him and more importantly what they wanted with him.
"LET GO OF ME!" Neville yelled as he struggled to no avail.
CRACK.
It was as if a whip had suddenly lashed across the whole room. The Muggles suddenly dropped Neville unceremoniously on the ground, their attention turned to the door where Neville previously entered. Standing in the doorframe was a man with dark, scraggly hair and several tattoos just barely visible on his chest. In his hand looked to be a rope made of fire. He was looking at the confused Muggles warily but confidently.
"I suggest you let go of him," he said.
Neville scrambled to his feet and looked at the man, instantly recognizing him now that he had his wits about him.
"Sirius?!"
"Nice to see you too, Neville."