"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."

Neville contained his screams for the first two seconds.

After the first minute, Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and held it tight. Harry looked at her, wanting to look at something, anything apart from their friend writhing on the ground after pitching from the chair onto the floor. She pressed her hand over her mouth as she looked on in horrified fascination.

Four minutes in, Neville's screams stopped, to be replaced by croaks and low groans.

Alecto raised her wand, "Huh, already gone, is he?" she said mockingly, "Not very tough, is he?"

Snape bent over the boy, looking interested. Neville's eyes were open, staring vacantly ahead of him. Harry shivered, since the memory wasn't fading out, Harry could only assume Neville was still conscious. Small sounds were issuing from Neville's lips.

"Hmm," said Snape, he waved his hand in front of Neville's eyes, "I don't think he's gone." if there was a response, Harry couldn't see it, "I think he damaged his vocal cords." he straightened, "You know, I have an experimental potion I've been meaning to test." Snape turned, walked around his desk to pull a small box out of it. It was the same wooden box Harry now had in his possession. Inside it was a good sized bottle of potion.

Snape filled a wine glass with it, "Sit him up."

Amicus and Alecto sniggered as they sat the unresisting Neville up on the floor, with his back resting against the headmaster's desk. Neville stared right through Snape, as the man crouched in front of him.

Snape held the glass to Neville's lips. A small trickle of the green liquid leaked out of Neville's mouth down the side of his chin. Snape pointed his wand, "Sorbeo."

Neville swallowed.

"So what's that s'posed to do?" asked Alecto, after a few seconds passed.

Neville let out a high pitched scream that made everyone jump. Ginny clapped her hands over her ears.

"Silencio" Amicus threw the spell at Neville and quiet settled over the room.

Clearly, Neville was in agony. He continued to scream soundlessly for what seemed like forever. When he finally stopped, he fell over again, his head thrown back, his arms and legs jerking. After a minute of this, white and yellow foam started bubbling out of the boy's mouth. Neville began to turn an alarming blue color.

"Interesting." said Snape mildly, again he pointed his wand, "Vacuo respirum. Spiro adagio."

The Carrows were beside themselves with glee, "That's great, Sev!" giggled the woman.

Snape gave her a cold, hard look, "You mean 'Headmaster'." He said, with an undertone of threat.

"Oh. Yeah." her face turned red, "Sorry."

Neville's color looked better, but he was still caught in some kind of terrible paroxysms, his muscles randomly contracting and relaxing. Pensieved memories were magically enhanced, but they couldn't produce events that the person had not actually witnessed. This meant Neville was in terrible pain and distress. Harry understood why Neville wouldn't discuss it, now.

Snape stood up, looking utterly unconcerned. He walked to his desk and rang a small crystal bell.

A house elf appeared, "Yes, headmaster?" the elf said.

"Tell Madame Pomfrey we need her in my office." Snape said, easily. He looked down at Neville, whose muscles had yet to relax. "Tell her to bring a strong anti-convulsant, and probably a painkiller and a Dreamless Sleep." to the Carrows he said, "The Dark Lord has said he does not want any Pure Bloods killed unnecessarily. I seem to have miscalculated with this formula. It was far too strong, I think."

The house elf disappeared with a pop.

Snape glanced at the clock, "It seems that it's past curfew, why don't you two do your evening bed check?"

The Carrows giggled some more, "Well, we'll leave you to it, Headmaster." said Amicus, "Have fun." He and Alecto took themselves out.

As soon as they were gone, Snape dropped his pretense of unconcern. He strode quickly to a cupboard in the wall and extracted two bottles of potion. These he didn't even bother to attempt to make Neville swallow, just pointed his wand at them and they disappeared. Harry assumed he was spelling them into Neville's system.

Neville's muscles relaxed marginally. He was no longer clenching his jaw, and he began drawing deep, slow breaths.

"Finite." Snape pointed his wand at Neville, his breathing became shallower, "Bloody students." Snape muttered, clearly unaware that Neville could hear him. He put his ear close to Neville's mouth, perhaps to hear Neville's breathing. He sat up and put his fingers to the side of Neville's throat. He shined his wand light in Neville's eyes, then closed them with his hand, "Bloody Gryffindors. Just trying to get yourselves killed. Bad enough that..." His muttering trailed off as the flu activated.

"What do you need, Headmaster?" asked Madame Pomfrey, archly, coming forward.

"Mr. Longbottom has had an overreaction to a potion." replied Snape, coldly. "Static convulsions. More than ten minutes worth. I had to use 'Spiro' to support his breathing. His breathing has eased, but I believe he would benefit from those potions." he indicated the three vials she held in her hands, "He has already received a muscle relaxant and a pain reliever.

Madame Pomfrey went pale as she saw Neville lying on the floor. She took out her wand and began checking him over, "What have you done, Headmaster?" she demanded.

"Nothing that didn't need doing." he replied.

"Nothing that..? You..." she sputtered as though looking for a word bad enough. She cut herself off, at a look from him.

"Do you really want to finish that thought, Poppy?" Snape asked, evenly, "Have a care with yourself, words are dangerous, these days.

Madame Pomfrey turned her back on Snape, to attend to Neville.

She must have spelled the sleeping draft into his system, because, at last, the memory faded out.

Harry and Ginny came out of the memory, holding each other's hands very tightly.

Ginny was the first to speak, "I see why Snape suggested something to knock them out." she said, grimly.

Harry nodded, shaken, "So you said, he was better after?" he asked tentatively.

"Well, you remember. Before that, he used to say he was almost a squib. How long did it take him to learn 'expelliarmus'?" Ginny crossed over to the sideboard and poured them both some of the tea that Kreacher had left sitting for them.

"It always seemed like Neville had to work harder than anyone else, at everything." agreed Harry, taking his cup and sitting down on the settee.

"After that, he just seemed to figure everything out." said Ginny.

"Well, Madame Pomfrey agrees that the potion was really helpful to Neville's case." said Harry quietly, "And, according to his records, Neville's case was similiar to Tim's in some ways, although his magic seemed to go underground rather than become uncontrollable. I suppose it depends on the length of time and the number of times and such."

"I don't think it went underground at all." said Ginny, thoughtfully, stirring some sugar into her tea "Remember how he used to blow things up when he got stressed? I think he was rather like Tim, now that we talk about it."

"How soon until Ernie reckons the new potion will be ready?" asked Ginny as she sat down next to Harry.

"A month."

"It was good of Neville to send Ernie another copy of this."

Harry nodded, "Neville said he doesn't mind as long as he doesn't have to see it, ever." Harry couldn't blame Neville, at all.

Ginny's brows were drawn into a frown, "Could the potion cause complications?" she asked.

"Ask Ernie when we owl him, but he seemed to think that, given the ingredients, the worst that could happen would be nothing." Harry put his arm around Ginny, "He said that the potion ingredients are all pretty benign on their own. He also seemed to think that most of the sedatives they use for serious procedures were compatible.

"So, you still think this is the right thing to do?" asked Ginny, seriously.

"I think so. The healer's seem to think so too. You know better than me, anyway. What do you think?"

"I think..." Ginny took a big breath, "I think we should, but I hate that we have to make a decision like this."

Harry sighed, "Me too."