He stared at her. His eye twitched.

"And what is their agenda?" he asked.

She centered her mind as much as she could without Occlumency.

"For Lucius Malfoy, survival. He was playing both sides of the board, waiting to see who ended up on top. For Narcissa Malfoy, protecting her son. And for Draco…" She swallowed, her lungs straining against her ribs. "Draco had feelings for me. He bought me at the Auction because of that. I wasn't raped once in that house."

The room was quiet. She counted her heartbeats, waiting, praying.

"And they didn't believe you," he said slowly. "So you're deemed 'unfit.'"

She glanced up at him. "Yes, exactly. How did you—"

"I recognized the color of your robes, Hermione," he said with a sad smile. "My parents were in mint St. Mungo's robes my entire life."

A sudden thought burst through her, and she reached for his hand. "Neville, are they—?"

He shook his head. "The True Order had to retake St. Mungo's from the Death Eaters. Most of the long-term patients didn't survive under their leadership."

Hermione's skin prickled with horror. She hadn't known. "Neville, I'm so sorry—"

"It's alright. I'd rather not talk about it." He took a deep breath and looked out the window for a long moment.

He turned back to her. "Narcissa Malfoy really lent you her wand?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I have proof. Assuming they ever let me leave." Her chest constricted again. "Neville, I've tried everything in my power to convince them that my mind is sound. I've asked for the chance to at least prove my account of things, but they refuse to hear it."

Neville's brow furrowed. "That's not right, Hermione. I'm sorry."

A flood of emotion shot up her throat before she could stop it. She slammed her hand over her mouth to hold back her sobs, her eyes filling with tears.

Someone was on her side. Someone believed her.

"Hey." Neville shuffled closer, reaching for her hand. "Hey, it's going to be alright."

Hermione stumbled to her feet and threw her arms over his shoulders, weeping with all the grief and loneliness and despair she'd kept at bay for a week. Neville patted her shoulders, and she sobbed harder.

When she could cry no longer, she pulled back. "I need your help, Neville." She swiped at her cheeks. "I can't just sit here and let them suppress my magic and run tests on me until they decide I'm mentally fit."

His mouth opened, and his gaze narrowed. "They took away your magic?"

Her lips trembled as she nodded. "Will you help me?"

Neville searched her eyes, and she saw the same boy who'd stared down his friends, three to one, his face resolved as he put up his fists to keep them from leaving the Common Room.

"What do you have in mind?"

~*~

The next day, Andy Smudgley from the Daily Prophet signed in at the visitor desk at St. Mungo's. He was escorted to Neville Longbottom's room, where Hermione and Neville were waiting for him.