Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Resistance	By : danniperson Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 44505 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I did not create the Harry Potter stories or universe and I do not make any money from this

Chapter List
- 30
- 31
- 32
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

The throb of almost numbed pain was the first thing Hermione was aware of upon waking. For several minutes, she laid there, eyes closed, soaking in the feel of her mind and body, attempting to remember where she was and why she was here as well as the events before her sleep. There had been a battle at Hogsmeade, she finally remembered. She had been attacked. Sharp pain had exploded through her body at the feel of the Cruciatus Curse, falling over, arms winding around her midsection in hopes of protecting her unborn child, Ron and Draco jumping between her and the Death Eaters. Professor McGonagall had tried to step in to help, but ended up distracted for a few minutes warding off Death Eaters coming at her. There were too many of them. She had been hit by another curse, it made her body feel like it was on fire, before counteracting with one that sharply dropped the temperature of her body. A Death Eater grabbed then tried to take off with her, but Ron hexed him while Draco grabbed her before Apparating them right outside of the gates of Hogwarts. It all became a bit fuzzy after that. Flashes of their walk to the castle, of Madam Pomfrey hovering over her, Draco and Ron at her side, whispering quietly to one another a conversation she couldn't understand.

Groaning quietly, she began to open her eyes, cringing at the bright light of the infirmary. A glance around the room told her that many had suffered in the battle. She tried finding familiar faces but, as she tried to sit up, her vision swam, forcing her to lie back down. With a shaky hand she rubbed down the front of her body, over the small bump of her stomach. Fear crept into her heart as her fingers tightened on her skin. How was her son? Was he alright? Her body had been tossed around, put through hell out there, but there had been no direct blows to her stomach that she was aware of. He could be alright, couldn't he? Hermione swallowed hard, slowly opening her eyes once more to find Madam Pomfrey making her way over to her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked briskly.

"Awful," she croaked, throat incredibly sore and dry, leaving her voice very hoarse and quiet.

"Well, that's only to be expected," the mediwitch said, shaking her head. "There isn't much more to be done. You'll need plenty of rest, as well as taking a pain potion, but you'll survive."

"Survive. Has anyone…?" she asked quietly, voice going out before she could finish her question. The sad look in Madam Pomfrey's eyes told her she understood what she meant.

"There were several causalities, but nothing you should worry about now. You need no more stress than you already suffer," Madam Pomfrey said. "Though I fear there is something I need to tell you."

With the infirmary so packed, Madam Pomfrey had, reluctantly, allowed Snape to remain in his own rooms for recovery. Because of their bond, Dumbledore allowed Harry to stay by his side. The man had gone out of his way to protect Harry and his friends. He owed it to him to make sure he was alright. Despite their differences, the man was a hero, a necessary ally to their side, and Harry's soul mate. No matter what wrongs he had committed, especially against Harry, he couldn't just walk away and feel nothing about the fact that he had been gravely injured.

While the other adults tried to hide their conversations, Harry managed to overhear as they talked in the living room. Dumbledore wasn't sure if Snape's position was compromised or not. He likely could explain any defiance towards the Death Eaters as him protecting his role among the Order of the Phoenix, but the fact that the other Death Eaters would so readily attack him, and so harshly, was concerning. The headmaster seemed unwilling to let him return to Voldemort's side, though he expressed the thought that he might not have a choice, that Severus would fight tooth and nail to return to the fold if there was any chance at all of salvaging his role as a spy.

Harry wished he could make him stay. He didn't like Snape at all, maybe he was useful as a spy, but Harry had seen how those meetings could be. Ever since Voldemort's return he had caught glimpses of their meetings, and even a couple of times since bonding with Snape, normally through Snape's perspective rather than Voldemort's. The Dark Lord could be so charming, so manipulative, but, also, very sadistic. How anyone could still have followers after treating them so monstrously was beyond him. How could anyone pledge their allegiance to such a monster? Maybe the likes of psychotic individuals such as Bellatrix Lestrange and the Carrow siblings, but most weren't that far gone in their mental stability. Surely, nothing was worth that sort of treatment.

Snape may have been many awful things, but for him to go back to that time and time again for their effort was great. Harry frowned as he sat by the man's bed, watching him sleep. It was easy to hate him, to think the very worst on any other day when he was nothing more than a nasty bastard. But right now he was vulnerable, injured, and a hero.

In Hogsmeade, Harry had been having a good time. The first in a long time. There hadn't been much time for enjoyment in anything since Voldemort came back his fourth year. Then, since the end of sixth year, learning about the Horcruxes and the Soul Bond, things sort of snowballed from there. So much had been happening, so much stress, so much shock and insanity that it was hard to just relax. Daphne asking him to go with her had been a great opportunity and, while he had never spent a lot of time with Luna and even less with Daphne and Morag, he actually found himself having a great time. At least once he forbade Morag from mentioning his pregnancy at all. With that topic forgotten, she proved to be very clever. She took things too literally sometimes, but she and Luna together were entertaining. Daphne, herself, was so much nicer, as well as interesting. than Harry ever gave her credit for, always assuming she was some brain-dead lackey of Pansy Parkinson. It was a good time cut way too short by the attack.

Then there had been Snape. He had come out of a nearby pub with the other teachers, rushing to his aid without a second thought. Luna and Morag, recently bonded, worked together effortlessly while Daphne was a bit unsteady, uncertain with her fighting. Harry had to deflect oncoming spells from her many times. She gave it a good effort and, while she rarely hit the Death Eater she meant to, there were still enough swarming around that she managed to take down a good few of them. While Harry defended Daphne, Snape was defending him. A few times, Harry even managed to return the favor.

But Harry had seen Snape fight before. He had seen it in his visions and had seen it in person at the end of last year when the Death Eaters tried getting into Hogwarts. The man moved easily, was a gifted duelist, and this was nowhere near his best. Something was very off with him. It wasn't just him either. While Harry managed to hit a lot of them, he couldn't feel the strength he normally did while casting spells. There was something off. They didn't hit nearly as strongly as he intended.

He wasn't the only one who noticed. From the living room, Dumbledore and McGonagall were still talking in hushed tones. Their bond wasn't strong enough. The sex wasn't working. To some extent, perhaps it was. Their magic wasn't as wild as it had been. But it wasn't as strong as usual, either. It wasn't anywhere near the power they had hoped to gain by bonding in the first place. They had begun meeting to talk, as requested, but it wasn't enough. It had come too late and they paid the price for it. Harry had been injured, nearly lost the babies, and had sustained serious injury to his left leg. From the knee down, it was in constant burning pain, left to a dulled, throbbing ache under the effects of a potion. It was cursed. Madam Pomfrey knew the treatment, but it would take time to fully heal. Walking was difficult, but he managed. It was like stepping on a burning hot nail every time he put his weight onto it. Currently, he had the stiff limb propped up on a chair in front of him.

Snape had suffered a great deal worse. The same curse that had hit his leg had also hit the entire left side of his body. Not only would walking be hard, but so would writing, brewing and many other every day activities. A cut on his right arm by a poisoned blade had been so badly infected they had seriously considered amputating it until Snape roused long enough to mutter the name of a few potions, one of which Madam Pomfrey instantly recognized could help the area and almost cried in relief upon finding it in the very back of Snape's stores. It had left a nasty mark that was going to scar, but it wouldn't be the first to mar the man's pale flesh. His left shoulder had been badly burned by flames someone had shot at him. The area was still very pink and sensitive, but it would heal nicely, Madam Pomfrey had assured him.

Green eyes stared unseeingly at the injuries, struggling to listen to the conversation taking place outside when the voices became unintelligible again. If only he had some Extendable Ears with him. It was tempting to get up to press his ear to the door, but it would be hard to pretend he was innocent if someone so happened to walk into the room. Besides, he was supposed to be here in case Snape needed anything. The closer he was, the better.

As it was, Harry wasn't paying enough attention for it to matter. Snape managed to shift around on his bed, moan, and blink open his eyes without Harry noticing at all. Kingsley was out there with news of who they had managed to capture. He only caught a few of the names, and no one he recognized. Dumbledore was shushing them, saying they should probably move this meeting to his office while asking someone to volunteer to stay behind with Harry and Snape.

"Potter," Snape grumbled wearily. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh," Harry said without thinking, trying to catch the rest of the conversation, heart sinking when he realized they really were leaving. It probably was a smarter idea to hold a meeting in the headmaster's office. Harry wondered why they had convened in Snape's rooms. Maybe they had all come to meet Dumbledore here and they just hadn't thought to move, or maybe the headmaster wasn't willing to leave Snape for the first few hours or something.

"Kindly do not hush me in my own bedroom," Snape hissed.

"Yeah, well…Hey, you're awake!" Harry said in surprise, really looking at Snape for the first time in a while.

"Astounding observation, Mr. Potter."

"No need to be a git. Oh, Madam Pomfrey said to get you to drink this when you woke up," Harry said, scrambling out of his chair, wobbling on his injured leg and hissing in pain. Then he quickly looked all over the room for the phial the matron had placed in his care. Finally, he found it on the bedside table next to a glass of water. Before he could reach for it, Snape grabbed it then raised an eyebrow at him. Harry flushed, plopping back down in his chair. As Snape opened the phial and drank from it, Harry grabbed his bad leg, pulling it onto the second chair. "How are you feeling?"

"How, pray tell, does that concern you?"

"I was just asking," Harry snapped defensively.

"Surely they didn't leave you as my caretaker, Potter? Injured as I am, I would be better off on my own."

Harry sucked in a deep breath, counting to ten in his head as he calmed himself. It was no use rising to Snape's level, no matter how tempting. "Thank you."

Snape raised a dark eyebrow skillfully. "For?"

"Helping. During the battle," Harry explained nervously, beginning to regret the decision to say anything at all.

"Don't flatter yourself. I was doing my duty."

"I still appreciate it," he said, narrowing his eyes. Then, if only to annoy the man, "The babies are fine."

The man was quiet for a moment, just glowering at him, black eyes flickering down to his abdomen now and then. Eventually he growled out, "It would be best if you leave."

His arms and legs twitched, body automatically making to respond to the command, though he managed to stop himself in time. "Two boys and a girl. In case you wanted to know."

"What do I care about your fetuses, Potter? I do believe I told you to leave. You are not welcome here."

"Aren't I? Felt pretty welcome a few days ago," Harry snapped.

"That's because the only thing you're good for is spreading your legs like a whore. Even then it's only for the sake of the damnable bond. One would think you would have gathered some skill in the area by now, but alas…"

Enough was enough. What had he been thinking earlier, all of those nice thoughts about the man? Ridiculous. Now Harry was too enraged to think straight. He scrambled to his feet, the sharp pain in his leg an afterthought as he made to punch Snape, only to have the man grab his fist with both hands, shoving him away easily. Not only did he fall back, but managed to stumble over both chairs in the process, landing spectacularly on his back beneath one chair and on top of the other. He cried out in pain as sharp edges slammed into his flesh.

"I've got it! Don't you worry, I can do it!" said a familiar voice from outside the door.

"Hitting a wounded man, Mr. Potter? Tsk tsk. And to think I just saved your life," Snape snarled.

"Could care less 'bout all of that," Harry muttered, angrily pushing the chair off of him.

The door burst open to produce Tonks, her hair wildly curly and vivid purple, a hand resting on her slight bump. "Alright in here? Harry?"

"I would be touched by your care, Potter, did I not suspect you meant that you 'couldn't' care less, in which case I freely remind you that you were the one sitting by my sickbed, inquiring of my health," Snape responded sarcastically. He then turned to Tonks. "Potter was just leaving. As should you."

"Well…err…Albus wants me to stay here. You really should have someone around…Just in case," she said with an uncertain shrug.

He looked ready to argue, but ended up shaking his head. "At least do me the courtesy of escorting Mr. Potter far from here. I will attempt to do myself no harm in your absence."

"Err…Right. Harry?"

"Coming," he grumbled, struggling to his feet. With a bad leg it was harder than usual, but he managed, stumbling around for a few seconds before steadying himself. "Don't really know why I wasted any of my time on this prat anyway."

Tonks's eyes grew wide. "Harry!"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"Screw you, too."

"Another ten."

"How…" Harry began to say, but Tonks grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the room before he could ruin all of Gryffindor's chances at the House Cup.

"You need to be careful, Harry. He is your teacher," Tonks said reluctantly.

"And? He's a right prat!" Harry exclaimed.

"True as that may be," she said, "you don't want to get in any trouble. Aren't you supposed to be…trying to get along or something? I mean…not that it's your fault, but…well…Professor Dumbledore was saying that…that it might have been a smidge better if…if the bond was stronger."

"Yeah? Thanks. Like I didn't already think that," Harry snapped coldly. "I can show myself out, thanks. Go watch over the slimy git."

"You…you really shouldn't be alone, Harry," Tonks said.

It wasn't fair to her for him to be so rude. Snape was the one who was rubbing him the wrong way. All of his anger should be directed to him, not to people who cared, who were only trying to help. Every time he opened his mouth, though, he could only think of more ugly things to say. The sarcastic bastard was getting to him more than he thought. Ashamed of himself, Harry bowed his head, taking several deep breaths before mumbling out, "Sorry."

Tonks smiled softly. "That's alright, Harry," she said, ruffling his hair. "We all know what he can be like. Just take it easy. Try to ignore him. They…they say, don't they, that if you ignore bullies they eventually stop?"

"Whoever said that never met Snape," Harry snorted. "He'll never give up, bored or not."

"You might be giving him too much credit," said Remus, pushing open the entrance door. He was wearing a kind smile that didn't reach his amber eyes. "Do you want to switch wi…"

"I'm fine, Remus. Don't worry about it. I can survive a few hours with the…" Tonks said, blushing as she stopped herself from referring to the man as something rude. "Err…him."

"Right then," Remus said. "C'mon, Harry. I'll show you back to the common room. Unless you'd like to visit your friends in the infirmary?"

"Yeah…I should go see them. Make sure they're alright," Harry said, glaring over his shoulder at Snape's door. He really hated that bastard. But part of him hated leaving him behind in the state he was in. It didn't make much sense. With the way Snape was, he deserved to be in pain.

Madam Pomfrey had only kept them in the infirmary about an hour before ushering them out, wanting to keep the crowd to a minimum, so as to allow the injured some measure of rest. Several hours after their banishment from the hospital wing, the group made its way back. Even with the knowledge of new camaraderie between some of the Slytherins and Gryffindors, seeing Blaise and Draco walk down the corridors alongside Ginny, Ron, and Hannah was strange. Even those in the group might have agreed, had they all not been worried. Hermione and Daphne had both been badly wounded in the battle, still unconscious when they had left. Hopefully, Madam Pomfrey had managed to heal some of the others and they would be allowed back in to care for their friends.

"We can try to find Harry, too," Ron said. "I'm sure he's tired of the git by now."

"Ronald, can you stop for once?" Ginny sighed in exasperation.

"What?" Ron demanded, stunned.

"Never mind," Ginny grumbled.

Blaise was tempted to comment about Weasley's immaturity, but found he didn't have the motivation to be a bastard right now. Not when one of his best friends had been near death the last he saw her. While they argued a lot, Daphne had been one of his closest friends since childhood. Everyone they knew assumed they would fall in love and get married one day but, aside from taking her to the Yule Ball fourth year and deciding to be each other's first kiss as well as giving each other their virginities, there was just nothing between them. She could have been his soul mate, he couldn't help but feel. Their closeness was untainted by the sorrow and complexity of romance, strengthened by years at each other's sides, sharing just about everything. He could swear he hated her sometimes, imagine wringing her neck at the worst of them, but he had no idea what he'd do if anything really bad happened to her.

"He really should be with everyone else. Everyone's going to ask where he is, aren't they? And how he is? What if people start to suspect something? They'll be in so much trouble," Hannah said worriedly, wringing her hands.

"I doubt anyone's going to assume anything. Most people are too concerned about the damage their loved ones suffered than anything else," Ginny remarked coldly.

"Oh, I guess so," Hannah said, oblivious to Ginny's icy glare. "I'm just so worried for him. Golly. Do you know what people will say?"

"He's quite used to people making absurd assumptions," Draco pointed out dazedly. It was a wonder he had been paying attention to the conversation at all. The whole time he had been acting as if he was in his own little world. Considering his soul mate was badly injured, being given no word about her condition or his unborn child's, no one could blame him.

"Yeah, but if they thought…that…it would be true. So…" Hannah said, trailing off, making strange waving motions with her hand as though indicating something that no one understood.

Ginny sighed heavily, looking away from the Hufflepuff while her brother gave her a sharp look, silently warning her to be careful with how she treated her sister-in-law.

Silence fell on them as they ascended yet another staircase shortly after it moved, glad to find that it would still be taking them where they needed to be, if only a bit further than they had hoped. As they neared the infirmary, new waves of anxiety overcame them. Ginny sought solace in taking Draco's hand while Hannah grabbed onto Ron's arm, holding herself as closely to him as she could while retaining the ability to walk. Sensing that Ginny was upset, Blaise walked behind the others to come up on Ginny's other side, gently rubbing her back before letting her wind her arm through his, pulling him closer as she stepped nearer Draco, the three now huddled as closely as Ron and Hannah. It slowed their walking, but none were particularly excited to see what had become of their friends.

The battle had been terrifying, had happened so quickly that it didn't feel as though it had actually taken place. It could have been a nightmare for all they knew. Blaise had been so worried about Ginny that he had followed her all around, aiding her in her fighting. Not once did he spare a thought for any of his other friends, only determined to stay by her side, never take his eyes off of her, give her any help she could need. Maybe if he had been looking out for Daphne more, she would be okay. Ginny had proven herself a skilled fighter, but Blaise knew that his friend wasn't nearly so accomplished. Hell, he had abandoned his pregnant date to run after the redhead! Not that it mattered much. Draco and Ron had both rushed to her side. Ron had left his own wife to go to his ex-girlfriend. It was no wonder Hannah had been so clingy since their return.

Of course, Draco and Ron's help hadn't done Hermione much good. Even McGonagall had gone to help them, from what he had heard, and she had still taken the brunt of the attack. Did they know she was pregnant? Probably. That was the point, right? To hit them all where it hurt the most. The news of her pregnancy had spread like a wildfire throughout the school. Most of the Slytherin students were related to Death Eaters. They'd have been more than happy to share the information with them. Blaise shuddered in disgust.

Just as they turned a corner, they saw a very pale Hermione Granger walking aimlessly their direction. Everyone put Hannah perked up at seeing her. Ron made to go towards her, but Hannah on his arm made it difficult to move. The trio dispersed easily, running towards her. Hermione blinked as Ginny threw her arms around her, Draco and Blaise coming up on either side. Her eyes were wide, disbelieving, and Draco chuckled in relief upon seeing her. If she was out, walking around, then she was more than fine! He really expected her to be lying in the infirmary for at least a week! Blaise put his hand on her shoulder while Draco began to stroke her back.

The brunette took a shuddering breath, seeming to snap out of whatever daze had taken hold of her. "I can't," she gasped, shaking her head, pulling away from them.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked with a frown.

"I can't," Hermione muttered.

Draco and Blaise shared a look. Maybe she wasn't so well, after all. With the sheer number of victims, it was entirely possible that she had managed to escape. Draco stepped forward to take her arm. They could bring her back. She was obviously distraught. Weak. Most of the physical damage looked to be cured, but that didn't mean she was alright to be walking around the corridors. "Let's go…"

"No. No, no, no," she gasped, eyes welling with tears. "Oh, Draco. I can't."

"Can't what?" Draco asked, taking both of her arms, trying to meet her arms.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione wailed, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, heart hammering in panic.

"Shouldn't…No. No, no, no," Hermione said, determination strengthening her broken voice.

"You're not making any sense," he said, looking wildly to the others for help who could only gape at them.

"Oh God," Hermione sobbed, body trembling violently in his arms. "Baby."

"Baby?" he asked, heart stopping.

"Dead. Oh, Draco!" she cried, legs giving out. All of her weight fell upon him, Draco having to hold her tighter to hold her upright. "Gone. Baby gone…Lost…lost the baby. Shite. No! Merlin! Oh, Draco. So sorry…Oh God. No, no, no, no, no."

The baby was gone? All emotion fled as his own body lost control. He fell to the floor, gripping Hermione tightly in his arms, dazedly rocking back and forth with her crying form. Her tears were warm and wet against his neck, wild brown hair tickling his face, her wails piercing and delivering him one of the worst migraines he could remember suffering. Hermione clung to him like a lifeline while all he could offer were awkward pats to her back.

Until her muttered apologies began to sink in. When he had spent so much time trying to forget his impending fatherhood, it was something he couldn't forget during the battle or these long, miserable hours waiting for the appropriate time to rush to her side. His son had never been born. Had never really existed, had he?

Oh, but he had. Because Draco could feel the loss deep in his heart. Like a switch turning on, that hollow feeling was replaced by an onslaught of emotion that left him breathless. Tears stung his eyes, breath catching in his throat as he held Hermione even closer to him. Vaguely, he was aware of the others surrounding, falling to their knees around them, offering silent condolences in hugs and pats. How could anyone care so much for someone they had never met? His imagination ran wild, picturing a miniature version of himself. Holding a baby in his arms, steadily a toddler on a toy broomstick, leading a small blond boy to the Hogwarts Express, seeing him graduate, and all of it crumbling to the ground in the realization that it would never be. Grey eyes squeezed tightly closed as Draco buried his wet face in tangled brown hair, desperately breathing in the scent of her cherry and jasmine shampoo, wanting desperately to take all of the comfort offered and feeling none of it.

Surprisingly, just an hour after the end of the battle, Neville Longbottom was feeling better than ever! It was all thanks to his soul mate. Cedric was a gifted healer, even if he hadn't finished all of his training. They thought nothing of the miraculous recovery until Dumbledore came to check the progress, making some cryptic remarks about the bond. Only Madam Pomfrey followed up the short visit, taking in their bemused expressions before explaining that the headmaster assumed that the healing process was, in part, aided by their bond. Which was ludicrous, in her opinion. Every cut and scrape had been mended by the use of potions and spells!

"Do you really think the bond had something to do with it?" Neville asked quietly as Madam Pomfrey moved on to see to Grace Potter's concussion.

"It's possible," Cedric said with a blush. "Isn't it…isn't that what helped us then?"

The battle. The whole thing had gone by so quickly that Neville could barely remember specific details. All he knew was that Cedric was by his side the whole time, that they worked so well together. Every move one made, the other moved in sync with them. They dodged curses easily and those they couldn't the other deflected. Neville had never thought himself very good with Defense. Even being taught by Harry Potter in the D.A. fifth year then fighting Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries hadn't raised his confidence levels much. There was something so natural about fighting when he was with Cedric, though. He felt so at ease. The knowledge that everything would work out just fine had given him all the strength and focus he needed to fire spells, curses, and hexes all around him. Everything had been so clear to him then. There was no questioning any of it. Something much bigger than himself had guided him throughout it all. Particular spells he had always been rather gifted with had been cast with more grace and power than he had ever experienced. It was mind-boggling. They had never practiced Defense together since their bond, but they apparently hadn't needed to.

How had their bond become so strong without even practicing? Would it get much better if they did practice? The Soul Bond had always seemed so sketchy, but right now it all made so much sense. Everyone should bond! The war would be a piece of cake with this on their side.

"I like to think so," Neville said shyly. "Err…Would you like to test it out? I mean to see if the bond is helping me heal?" Hazel eyes stared pointedly at the nasty cut in Cedric's shoulder. Despite their new prowess with fighting, they had still been hit a few times. Cedric had been stabbed with a cursed blade, an awful cut that was deep, already looking horribly infected. Blood oozed from black and green wound that he hadn't bothered to fix up. The moment he entered the infirmary, Cedric had set to work helping his bond mate as well as the others in his vicinity.

"Uhh…Yeah, sure," Cedric said, coughing as he stood up to look for the right potion. "It'll be a process. You'll have to rub this over it five minutes after I drink this. Then you'll have to say an incantation as you do it." After he swallowed the pumpkin colored potion he explained exactly how Neville had to apply the potion, what words he needed to speak, and when he needed to speak them. The time that was done, five minutes were up and Neville was dipping his fingers into the pale brown salve. Carefully he rubbed his fingers over the wound, surprised by just how hot it was. It was like touching fire! Cedric smiled apologetically as Neville counted the seconds away in his head, changing the direction of his fingers as he began chanting in Latin. Only a minute later, the hot feeling cooled down, the black of the wound quickly turning gray. Neville gaped at it, fingers slowing without his permission. Once he realized this he picked up the pace again, shaking his head.

"How does it feel?" Neville asked timidly.

"Loads better," Cedric said in amazement. "That should have taken at least two days to recover. We'll probably only have to do this twice more before it's completely healed!"

Neville grinned broadly to the way Cedric's eyes lit up. It was comforting to know, as well, that he had in some way helped his bond mate to feel better. That he was helping him heal so much faster than he would have otherwise. Any reservations, any doubts he had ever had about the bond, disappeared. He couldn't wait to talk to Dumbledore more about this, whenever the man actually had time!

Cedric had to go back to work, helping Madam Pomfrey tend to their many patients. Some of them had to be shipped off to St. Mungo's for anything that was beyond their capability, all of the most serious injuries. After being checked over and cleared, Neville reluctantly let himself be shooed from the infirmary, heading down to the Great Hall for dinner. It was mostly first and second years, though a few of the older students were scattered around.

Applause erupted all around. Neville spun around, half expecting to see Harry behind him. But there was no one there. Turning back around, he found himself being pulled toward the Gryffindor table by Seamus and Lavender. As he was seated, Lavender pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek with a high pitched giggle. Seamus slapped him on the back. They brought him to the table where Dean and Parvati were sitting. Instantly, the other Gryffindors moved to crowd around him while students from other tables walked by to congratulate or thank him.

"Nice work, Longbottom!"

"You were brilliant out there, Neville!"

"Can't believe you and Diggory managed to take out McNair! That man is scary!"

"Impressive!"

"My hero!" Lavender cooed.

"Are you seeing anyone, Neville?"

"Great job!"

"Think you can teach me that hex you sent at what's his face? Carrow? The one that made him start swelling up like that? That was serious stuff, mate!"

"You and Diggory could have fought that whole battle by yourselves!"

"Never seen anyone fight so good before!"

"I thought Potter was good at this stuff. You're the one to beat, mate!"

For the first several minutes, Neville sat in stunned disbelief as people who had barely given him the time of day before came by with their smiles, hugs, kisses, handshakes, and everything else they had to offer him. He wasn't used to this. Didn't know how to handle it. All he could do was blush hotly, grin like a fool, and feel pride bursting in his chest. For the first time in his life he had been really good at something that everyone else could recognize. Neville had always excelled in Herbology, but aside from desperate pleas for homework help in that subject, no one paid much mind to it. He still preferred working with his plants to fighting Death Eaters, but…this wasn't so bad.

So caught up in the attention, he hardly noticed the strange taste in his pumpkin juice.

That was until Lavender's eyes widened in horror. "Oh gosh! You poor thing!"

"What?" Neville said, still smiling.

"You…your…Oh dear!" she exclaimed, eyes shining in admiration quickly dimming in pity.

He had only just noticed his skin turning purple when he hiccupped. His vision then turned orange. Everything everywhere was a different shade of orange! The only thing of a different color were the green spots on his arms.

A minute later he hiccupped again. Everything was blue, but his spots were red.

Wild laughter came from the Slytherin table.

Those around him were stifling laughter. Lavender slowly turned away from him. That wonderful feeling within him deflated. Heat filled his cheeks, proud posture slumping as his once joyous eyes fell to the table. Arguably, one of the best moments of his life ruined by a new humiliation.

"Are you sure it was Longbottom out there?" shrieked the voice of Pansy Parkinson. "Couldn't even shield his cup from a few drops of the Jumping Colors Solution!"

"Shut it, Parkinson!" Seamus snapped. "Ignore her, Neville. Err…We can get a remedy for this. No big deal."

"Doesn't change the fact that you were a real hero today," Dean added sympathetically.

It only made him feel a little better. But knowing his friends were there to back him up, he sat tall and continued with his meal. The changing colors every few minutes was annoying, but he wasn't going to bother Madam Pomfrey right now when she had more important things to deal with. Knowing that, several floors up, a lot of people were suffering so much worse than simple public embarrassment was a sobering thought. Besides, when his vision turned purple and he could tell Lavender she really was lavender, it warmed her back up to him, allowing the others at the table to relax, picking on him in a manner more friendly than cruel. So when Theodore Nott slid over, attempting to slide something else into his drink, he got more than he bargained for when five different wands shot five different hexes at him.

The loss of house points really had been worth it, they all later assured him.

Author's Note: Sorry it's been taking me so long to get posts up! I can't say it'll continue to be good, though I do think I'll get the next chapter done before the week's up =) I've been very excited for the chapter and already have the start of the second scene written! I will have a busy week this week, but I should still get it done faster than usual!

Big thanks to my lovely reviewers! Seeing your comments really make my day!

Also gotta give credit to my bud, Tokugawa Blitzer, for being there to read over things when I need her to, and always there to talk about aspects I'm having trouble with! She makes things a lot easier on me!

And of course a big thanks to my beta Dani for being so awesome and fixing my chapters all nice and neat!

Next chapter will include a time jump of a few months so be prepared! We'll be around January 11 when we come back!
- 30
- 31
- 32
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Resistance