Emerson Wilmore was an exemplary Ravenclaw student, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and an unyielding moral compass. However, things took a twisted and deviated turn in her life after her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, was murdered by L...
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Neville Longbottom returned to class on Monday morning as if he didn't spend three days chained in the dungeons.
That, more than the bruises that still bloomed faintly beneath his sleeves or the stiffness in his gait, was what unsettled people the most.
He walked into Herbology with his shoulders squared, eyes burning with defiance. He answered Professor Sprout's questions clearly and methodically, as though every syllable were an act of rebellion. When students stared, he ignored them. When whispers followed him down corridors, he kept walking with his chin high.
Three days in the dungeons with the Carrows should have broken him. It would've broken others. People remembered students who came back quieter, hollowed out and afraid of their own shadows after hours of it. Neville came back with bruises and a fire in his chest that refused to dim.
The D.A. meetings resumed that very night.
"We don't get to wait anymore," Neville announced to the large circle gathered in the Room of Requirement. "They're already hurting us. We need to learn to fight back properly, or we don't make it. This is a war, whether they want to admit it or not."
No one argued. Everyone believed him.
They trained harder. Spells were practised until arms ached and magic sparked uncontrollably in the air. Defensive wards. Shield charms. Counter-curses. Neville insisted they learn not just how to cast spells, but how to endure and fight. Because he had done exactly that.
Meanwhile, the Carrows unravelled.
Amycus returned to Hogwarts after the Death Eater meeting furious, red-faced, and humiliated in a way that made him more dangerous than ever. Alecto followed close behind him, her composure brittle but her eyes were darting as if the very walls turned against her. The wards in the dungeons were meticulous. They were ancient, layered and reinforced with dark magic that only those trained in it should have been able to dismantle.
And yet Neville Longbottom walked free.
The only names that made sense were Mattheo, Theo, Enzo and Draco's. All four bore the Dark Mark, making them capable of breaking the wards. They were each raised in the kinds of households where dark magic wasn't feared, it was taught.
