Edge Of Gravity

Neville stalked down the hall, his eyes darting to the darkened corners wondering if any of the Death Eaters would jump out any moment. This was probably the only place he could feel safe, but all the years had taught him is that it was never safe, not even at Hogwarts. A hollowness settled over him as he thought about his old headmaster, in the old days he would of cried but that was a sign of weakness. A sign of what he could no longer be, besides the tears had long ago dried.

“Longbottom.” The words were no more then a hiss, but he had heard it as clear as day as he turned towards the voice.

“Snape.” He looked at the man who had been his former potion professor, a irritation settling where fear use to lie. “What do you need?” The man had aged, his shoulders were no longer straight but kind of slumped in a defeat that had pressed upon him over the years. His eyes dulled from sharp wit to a crazed fool. The man had taken it hard, hell they had all taken it hard.

“Severus.” Snape snapped, straightening to his former glory causing a wince of pain to slip across his face. His once jet black hair falling across his face a if metallic strips of metal were caressing his cheeks.

Neville had grown to care for this man he had once feared, in fact in a way love as he had never loved his own father. Snape had almost been like a father, when he joined forces with the war. Sure, he had feared the man and he had made comments that made him want to hex ’the old bastard’ but he had made him strong. He had hardened him enough so when the battle came he had been ready, and when he was captured he had been able to survive and make it out.

When he had first walked into Snape’s house, the man nearly killed him with the Avada Kedavra
curse. Then, for the very first time the Potions Master, at least in front of Neville, had broken down in tears. He had cried so hard, that it made Neville wish he had tears to cry. “Severus.” He sighed, finally allowing Snape to slouch back into his former posture.

“I wanted to know when you will down for breakfast.” Snape always tried to sound so distant, apart like he didn’t give a fig if you joined him or not but he knew the truth of it. He had seen what Snape really was, a man broken by the bastard who had given him the mark nearly 10 years ago.

“I cannot this morning, Severus.”

“Fine.” Severus turned on his heels, his cape billowing in the way only Snape could get it to. Sometimes he almost wondered if he spelled the cape to make every entrance and exit as dramatic as possible. “I shall tell Dobby to bring it up to you.”

Neville wanted to tell him he needn’t bother, but Snape was impossible to argue with when it came to some things. “Thank you.” He called, smirking as he heard a snort of annoyance down the hall. Knowing Snape the meal would be in the room before he even had a chance to sit down.

He turned I a sharp movement, forcing the smirk to the back of him. “Bugger.” Longbottom muttered, as he turned to the room which had been his goal all along letting the smirk drop from him. His steps were not as cautious as he walked to the solid wood door. The room had been sound proofed earlier by himself, but he could not fight the caution that had been imbedded into him over the years.

He didn’t have to open the door to know what was going on, he was sitting strapped to the chair screaming, if his voice didn’t give out already. His arms and legs rubbed raw by the rope, and staring bloody murder at his wand that Neville had placed on a table merely four feet from him. They both knew he wouldn’t be able to get it, he had charmed him with every spell he could think of, plus the rope had been for extra protection just in case.

Neville schooled his expression, as he had learned while his imprisonment. To show emotion would only leave you in a ball of your pain, and a scars that not even magic could cover. He pushed open the door, walking through the silencing spell and shutting the door with a sharp click. “You bloody bastard, if you don‘t let me the fuck out of here I will kill you and that fucking fool of a Potions Professor.”

Neville didn’t hold back his anger, as he let his hand fall across the man face. “You can try Seamus, but you will be dead long before your wand even touches your fingers.”

“Fuck you, Longbottom.” Seamus had been a betrayer, allowing the dark side to seduce him with the offers Voldermort had given when the war had ended. It made him sick to his stomach, as he watch the boy he who had nearly blown up the entire potions class in their sixth year during the Death Eater meetings. Seamus maybe not a good wizard but he was very good at being a human. Unlike other wizard in Voldermort’s order Seamus killed like a human, and remorseless like a Death Eater.

The first meeting he had thought the boy had taken the mark for the same reason he was going to, but he had found out different after his third meeting after taking the mark. Seamus had killed a muggle, a young woman who couldn’t be much older then them. He had brought his fist down upon her, till she lay slumped in the circle of cheering Death Eaters.

His stomach had released itself, as soon as his feet had hit Snape’s tile foyer. He had wretched up everything, as the young woman screams and cries echoed through him. Neville wasn’t sure if it was really the beating that made him lose his stomach, or that more then a handful of his once friends had been standing in the circle cheering Seamus on. “Seamus, the longer you resist me the more painful your death will be.”

They both knew that Neville was going to kill him, he had too if he didn’t want it to get back to the Dark Lord. “I don’t care.” Seamus tried to sound convincing, but they both knew it was too late for indifference after he had begged for his life on the sixth day.

Neville clenched his jaw, as he looked away from the boy he had once called friend. She had begged for her life, he had watched her. Watched as they killed her, like animals they jumped upon her and killed. He had wanted to protect the girl he had always secretly called love, but they held him and made him watch as she died by the hands of the group. The ringleader he now knew as Seamus, after he had confessed it was him on the third day. “I am going to kill you Seamus, and if you don’t tell me soon I will start tonight.”

“Do you think I care, Longbottom?” A cough erupted from Seamus, as a small trickle of blood leaked out from his mouth.

“Then I guess, you don’t mind that I am starting.” Neville had learned wandless magic in his studies over the years, and he didn’t even have to think to do it anymore. It just kind of feed off of his emotions, and struck down those who were unfortunate enough to be the end of it.

“Neville.” Seamus voice was shredded, as he hunched over in his chair as much as the ropes would allow. “Please.”

Neville turned his eyes on Seamus then, as his magic released and ripped at the rope till Seamus was sitting in the chair. “Why?” Seamus tried to move but his body would not allow it, to weak from the week and half of magic exposure and exhaustion.

“Because I…you are my friend.” Seamus looked like a child, slumped over in the chair. His robes in tatters and a few blood stains coloring the floor around him. “Because we are mates.”

Seamus was weak, he was a pathetic person who would only release the burden of him on the world. “Mates?” His laughed, crossing his arms and tilting his head at him. “Really? Is that what you call it Seamus.”

The boy only pulled more into himself, as the sniffling started. Neville stared in disgust, as he saw tears rain down upon the robes that held the Slytherin colors. “Neville.” Seamus’s whimpered, he didn’t bother to raise his hand to wipe away the tears, or maybe he just didn’t have the strength anymore. “We’re mates, you are probably the only person who knew that I was totally mad for Professor McGongall.”

“Didn’t stop you from watching her die, did it?”

“I didn’t watch, I didn’t even join till after.” He sobbed, his body shaking from exhaustion and pain. “I would of protected her if I was…”

“Was what? A Death Eater.” Neville walked over to Seamus, staring down at the mouse brown hair. He was shaking his head, as his shoulders quaked from the tears that was now leaving a rather large spot on the front of robe. “No, you would of probably killed her.” The words were so cold, that it would of even made Snape proud.

“Neville, I…” His once friend looked up with a expression of utter exhaustion, he knew that he had spoken the truth. One whimper from McGongall and he would have been upon her like a vulture, and choked the life from her. “I had to survive.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Neville turned on Seamus, as he snatched the wand from the table. Seamus looked in horror at him, as tears dripped down his cheeks. “I will not be back.” Neville deadpanned, as he walked from the room.

He could hear Seamus sobbing fully, as he stepped out of the silencing charm. Seamus would be dead in a few days, perhaps sooner since he was so weak. He would wait the full time though, as he put the strongest locking spell upon the door so Dobby would not enter the room by accident. The poor house elf would of probably of fallen for the performance, Seamus had put on.

“Perhaps I can fit a little time in.” Neville muttered to himself, as he thought of Snape downstairs. He was probably still ordering Dobby around, threatening the elf with death if he burnt his toast. Neville had walked in on Snape snapping orders to the elf, who seemed utterly oblivious of the threats on more then one occasion.

A warmth spilled across him, Snape and Dobby were probably his only pleasure now. The only thing that kept him sane at times. He walked down the over elaborate set of stairs, that Snape had informed him his grandmother had charmed to prevent him from falling when he was a little boy.

“Longbottom?” Neville looked up from the carved banister, to see Snape balancing a tray of eggs, bacon, toast, and porridge on the side. “I didn’t trust that idiot would make it up without spilling it all over the rugs.”

Neville shook his head, trying to force a smile that wanted to grace his lips so bad it hurt to hide. Snape was like this, he would make up something about Dobby’s incompetence and deliver the meal himself. They both knew that Dobby had trouble with stairs, sometimes the elf couldn’t even walk in which Snape would sneer and make breakfast for the three of them muttering to himself about how incompetent Dobby was for not telling him that he was out of potion for his legs.

“I decided to join you for my meal.” Neville walked down the steps, taking the tray from his former Professor. Snape clenched his jaw, before turning on his heels. He didn’t fight the smile, as he looked at Snape’s form returning to kitchen.

“Come along Longbottom.” Neville spurred forward, following Snape into the kitchen. A small table was set up in middle of the kitchen, with three chairs around it. They no longer ate in the dinning room, after Snape had told them that they would destroy a priceless family heirloom because he and Dobby spilled things on it. Personally he thought it was because he hated how impersonal it was, but he would never inform Snape of that opinion.
“Dobby, Longbottom has decided to have breakfast down here.” Snape announced, as he took his seat next to Dobby.

Neville smiled down at the little house elf, who looked up with huge eyes. Dobby was not the same creature he was at Hogwarts, he seemed almost hollowed out; left with only small scraps of his former self. There was no longer a twinkle that once graced the small elf’s eyes, a smile was no longer a commonplace on the face either. It was a rare commodity, almost a rare as Snape’s. The small body covered with puckered scars that was left by Malfoy, when he had taken the creature for a torture toy.

He hated to think of the almost year that Malfoy had used the creature, before discarding him. He would of probably of killed him, if Snape had not expressed his want to torture the creature before it died. Severus had nursed the creature back to health, well, as well as he could get. “Morning Dobby.”

“Morning Master Longbottom.” Dobby tried to smile as he did every morning, but finally gave up and continued to eat his porridge that was in front of him. Neville placed the contents of the tray upon the table, before he took his spot around the small circle table.

Fifteen years ago, he would of thought this was kind weird nightmare from drinking too much butter beer from Hogsmede but now it was the only thing that kept him going. That made thoughts of past, and future that plagued him in his sleep be forgotten.

“Are you planning on eating your food Longbottom, or are you just going to watch it mold?” Snape barked, not looking up from book that was oddly commonplace at every meal even though it was never saw it place on the table once.

“Sorry, Snape.” Neville sighed, filling his spoon with porridge. It had gotten blander over the years but it was better then his pathetic attempt at cooking in which he filled the bottom half of Snape’s home with smoke.

“Severus.”