Chapter 12: The Resistance

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Neville woke up late in the morning in his bunk bed. He groaned as he didn't want to get up and face the cold air in the tent. His muscles protested from yesterday's labor of having set up the greenhouse and expanding their warded area.

Today there would be more work though. He and Severus would be planting a plethora of seeds so that they could plant them once last frost had passed. Neville was in charge of the vegetables while Severus would be starting on an herb garden for potion ingredients, since both didn't see their pardons coming any time soon and they were likely to stay here for a long while.

Even though he loved gardening, he still wished he could just stay in bed all day. He was bundled up tightly in two layers of pajama's, a sweater, and a thick blanket. Yet it was still cold.

Severus was up, but not dressed yet. The man was wearing a blanket like a cape and it made Neville snigger a bit.

Severus peaked up at the sound and Neville kicked himself mentally for alerting the man that he was awake. He tries to put his head under the cover but Severus won't have any of it.

"Up you get. We have work to do."

With a grunt he pulls himself from the covers and moves towards where the stove is nicely hot.

"Knead the bread for me, will you?" Severus asks as he's making them a steaming cup of tea. Neville washes his hands in the wooden tub of water standing on the counter and rolls up his sleeves. There is already flour spread out over the table. He yawns and gets to work kneading the lump of dough.

It was then when Severus made the mistake of turning on the radio. It took him a while to find the news channel, but eventually he managed to turn in to the station with minimal static sounding in the background.

He expected to hear the usual stuff, a few arrests, maybe a funny story about a celebrity, and words of encouragement for the Hogwarts students who were studying for their OWL's and NEWT's. Instead, it felt like being hit with a sledgehammer.

"-e death count is still rising. Head auror Scrimgeour is still missing. The Ministry is fully in the hands of Death Eaters, and it appears to remain that way for the time being."

Neville came to a slow stop with his kneading, looking over at the radio in disbelief. They look at one another, neither knowing what to say.

"The current location of the remaining ministry workers is unknown, although they remain in contact with the French and Italian ministries, sources have confirmed."

"Is this for real?" Neville asks in both shock and worry. "Is the Ministry..?"

Severus looks unsteady in a way that puts him even more on edge. "I don't know."

An understatement if Neville ever heard it. "What do we do?" He asks, suddenly feeling lost, a pit of worry is forming in his stomach.

"I don't know." Severus admits. "I hadn't expected him to make a move on the Ministry so soon. Doing so would have been a great risk." He shakes his head. "Doing so would have been... stupid."

"From the way it's sounding, it's us who were the stupid ones." He says without an inch of humor in his voice.

They both struggle to find what to say next. Neville's lump of dough lays forgotten on the table.

"I should get into contact with the Order; find out what the status is. Perhaps they've had contact with whatever remains of the Ministry."

Severus nods. "I think that would be a good idea."

Neville washes his flour-covered hands. He moves slowly as he puts on his gear. He can't make sense of what's happening.

Surely, the Ministry can't just be... gone.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Apr 13, 2023 ⏰

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