Book Two: Snape's Memories

Chapter Twenty-three

"No, Harry," Ginny said firmly, "I've already spoken with Neville. He said he doesn't mind. Anyway, I've seen what it did to him. I was there, remember?"

Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair, feeling a bit stupid, "You're right. You're right. I just..."

"Think you have to do everything yourself." She smiled at him a little and shook her head, "You get so obsessed when you have a puzzle to solve." She looked down at the letters she held in her hands, "Now, Ernie says that Snape's research will be publishable once he cleans it up." Harry had sent Ernie the edited copies of Snape's journal, removing all of the personal information, "And he thinks it will help Tim, but he wants more information on the possible side effects. He said he was going to view the copy of the memory Neville sent him, today. And then, Poppy sent over a load of records, from Neville and from other people who had the potion."

"Why won't he talk about it?" asked Harry. Generally, Neville didn't mind too much talking about the War.

"I only came in at the end." said Ginny, softly, "After he was through the worst of it. He wasn't right for a few days, but we assumed it was because of what he'd been through. Then he seemed to snap out of whatever it was. He really got into resisting the Carrows after that. And all that practice we'd done with the D.A. seemed to take hold, overnight. I thought it was a confidence thing, but looking back..."

Harry nodded, thoughtfully.

In his first six years at Hogwarts, Neville had always been a little slow with his studies. He frequently buggered up simple magics and he held the record for melting cauldrons in potions. The bane of his existence, however, was his terrible memory and the fact that he seemed to drift through life in a fog.

During that last year, Neville had become one of the leaders of the resistance at Hogwarts. He became a great hero of the Battle of Hogwarts, defying Voldemort to his face, killing Voldemort's snake. He was still a dangerous man with a wand, when he needed to be.

Neville was eighteen months old when his parents had been tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse and he had been present in the house. Bellatrix Lastrange had been more than capable of torturing a baby. According to the records Neville had retrieved, Neville had been treated for it as a toddler.

"You ready, then?" asked Harry. He wondered why Ginny felt so much trepidation, that she didn't want him to see it alone.

Ginny and Harry stood side by side, entering the Pensieve together.

Snape's office as Headmaster was much more spare than Dumbledore's had been. Gone were the silver objects and ornaments. Gone was Fawke's perch. The portraits of the former headmasters still dozed.

Neville was sitting in a high backed wooden chair, with Amicus and Alecto Carrow looming over him. Snape stood with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the desk looking mildly amused,. His mouth was twisted into an unpleasant smile, "So, Longbottom, what have you been up to this time?"

Harry walked around behind Snape so he could properly see Neville.

Neville's face was the color of milk. His round chin quivered, but his lips were pressed together in a thin line, "Nothing, sir." his voice shook a little. Harry was struck by how young Neville was. James was only a few years younger.

"He's lying." said Amicus flatly, "He's been sneaking around. Sending him out into the forest with Hagrid didn't do nothing."

"We need to set an example." tittered Alecto.

Snape sighed, "I suppose so. Don't permanently damage him." he waved his hand vaguely, signaling for them to get on with it.

"Crucio."