Written for the Ultimate Iron Fic competition at the Teachers' Lounge Forum, with the prompt of "Frenemies".

All For One and One For All

"Who put you in charge anyway? Who gave you the right to decide that this was a good idea?" Michael's tone was anything but conciliatory and Neville's face registered the shock he felt at such a confrontation. He took a step backwards.

"What?" he stammered. "I don't understand what you're asking."

Michael snorted. "It's simple enough," he said. "Who put you up to this? Was it Potter?"

Neville's expression cleared as he finally understood what Michael was saying, and he laughed.

"Harry? No, of course not. He has enough to worry about keeping clear of You-Know-Who's lot without worrying about what we're up to here. We – Ginny and Luna and me – just thought it'd be a good idea, a way to keep up morale and to remind Snape and the Carrows we aren't all on their side. And it makes sense if any resistance we offer is..." He paused, looking for the right word, "…organised. We need to work together on this." He smiled and spread his hands wide.

Michael continued to frown. Behind him, Anthony and Terry shifted uneasily, and Terry whispered, "Leave it, Mike. It's not worth arguing about."

Luna, who had been standing slightly apart from the others, apparently intent upon the clouds drifting across the ceiling, intervened.

"We are all supposed to be on the same side," she said dreamily. "That's what Dumbledore's Army was all about." She took Michael's arm. "But I think we'd better sit down now. Professor Carrow is looking this way. We don't want him to come and ask what we're talking about."

A brief look at the high table confirmed to Michael that the beady eyes of the new Dark Arts teacher were indeed fixed on them. He let Luna and Terry steer him over to the Ravenclaw table, but he ate little of his dinner, and he kept shooting resentful glances over towards the Gryffindor table, where Neville was eating steadily and silently, a frown on his face and apparently oblivious to the chatter going on around him.

As the meal drew to a close, the Headmaster stood up and an abrupt silence fell over the hall. Everyone knew what was coming, and only at the Slytherin table were there any smiles. Everyone else looked either apprehensive or frankly scared.

"The vandalism which occurred last night will not be tolerated," Professor Snape said silkily. "A number of first years will be selected to remove the unsightly graffiti. Without magic." He hesitated, apparently enjoying the dismayed expressions of many of his students, and the unhappy mutterings from the youngest among them. Then he looked pointedly at the Gryffindor table. "When the culprits are found – as they will be – there will be appropriate punishment. That is all."

The chatter was subdued as the students finished eating and left the hall for their common rooms or the library. Only the Slytherins seemed immune to the general air of apprehension, and gossiped and laughed as loudly as ever as they dispersed.

DADADADA

In a quiet corner of the Ravenclaw common room, Michael expressed his opinions to a select group of fellow sixth- and seventh years. His vehemence was not lessened by the fact that he was speaking in a low voice, with one eye on the younger students, and the other on the door. A fortnight into the new term, unannounced visits by the Carrows, or by Professor Snape himself, to the common rooms were becoming a regular occurrence.

"Longbottom's an idiot," he hissed. "What if he'd been caught? We're in enough trouble with the Carrows and Snape in charge as it is. If he thinks playing the hero and re-starting the DA is a good idea, he's even stupider than I always thought. What did he achieve anyway? Nothing!"

There were several nods from those around him, but one or two were less keen to agree. Surprisingly, it was Michael's friend Anthony who spoke up first.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "I know it was risky, but I don't think it achieved nothing. The place was alive at breakfast time – people were happier than I've seen them all term. No one likes the Carrows, Michael. It does everyone good to know that someone's fighting back."

Michael snorted. "A bit of graffiti? You call that fighting? It's not worth the risk."

"I think it is." A tall girl with long blonde hair tinged at the ends with pink, spoke up from the back of the group. "I wasn't in your Dumbledore's Army, but I wish I had been. Umbridge deserved to be opposed, and the Carrows are even worse. We can't just sit back and take the Pureblood crap they're dishing us. A bit of resistance is a good thing."

Michael shook his head, looking unconvinced.

"With Longbottom in charge?" he asked sceptically. "He's not exactly the brightest firework in the box, is he?"

There were nods and a ripple of laughter at that. They were Ravenclaws, after all.

"So we need to make sure he isn't calling all the shots," Anthony said firmly, as the laughter died down. "Luna said it – we're all on the same side." He looked over at Luna, who smiled vaguely at him, but said nothing. "If Longbottom's reviving the DA, we need to make sure we're in on it." He frowned at his friend's mutinous expression. "You don't have to like him, Mike, but we do have to work together on this. It's the only way."

DADADA

The dormitory felt too big with only the two of them in it. By one in the morning, Seamus had had enough of pretending not to hear Neville tossing and turning.

"Corner's an idiot," he said abruptly. "Don't let him get to you."

Neville sighed. "It's not that easy," he said. "I thought we were all on the same side."

"Ah, he's a Claw," Seamus said tolerantly. "They can't help but overthink things. Put Ernie onto him. He'll come round."

Neville groaned, but said nothing. Seamus left his bed and crossed the dormitory to Neville's, pulling open his curtains and looking down on his friend with a grin.

"You don't have to like each other," he said. "You just have to learn to work together. All for one and one for all, and all that. Goodnight."

He pulled Neville's curtains shut and returned to his own bed. It was a full minute before Neville spoke.

"What?" he asked. "All for one and what?"

Seamus smirked into the darkness. "One for all. From a Muggle book. One of me da's favourites. It means we work together whether we want to or not. Goodnight."

Neville smiled in spite of his doubts. "Night, Seamus," he said. He slept soundly after that.

DADADA

Ernie Macmillan came to sit next to Michael in the library the following day.

"I know why you're worried," he said without preamble. "Gryfindors don't think before they act, and Neville isn't the brightest of Gryffs. But he's a good chap, Michael. You can trust him. Luna does, after all."

Michael snorted at that. "Luna might be a Ravenclaw, Ernie," he said, "but she's go no more sense than Longbottom sometimes."

"That's why they need people like you and me on board then," Ernie said earnestly. "Listen, Michael, I think we need to go along with this. It's good for morale, and shows Snape and the Carrows we aren't just a load of Ministry lackeys. But it needs people like you to make sure the Gryffindors don't lose their heads."

"I suppose so." Michael spoke slowly. "How are they organising this? They're not planning full-scale meetings like before surely?"

"Even Longbottom's got enough sense to see that that's too risky," Ernie said. "They're using those old Galleons Hermione Granger bewitched to communicate. Have you still got yours?"

Michael nodded and sighed deeply. "Okay," he conceded. "I'll go along – for now at least."

DADADA

Despite Michael's misgivings, things went smoothly over the next few weeks. The pro-Potter graffiti kept appearing, with Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all playing their part, and Filch and his team of first- and second-years were kept busy cleaning it up. If Professor Snape and the Carrows had thought that the enforced labour would turn the younger students against the rebels, their plan misfired. It soon became a badge of honour amongst the youngest Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs to be selected for Filch's clean-up-squad: it meant you were seen as being – however covertly – on Potter's side. Michael's doubts were put aside as he experienced the thrill of a night-time raid that resulted in "Harry for Minister" being written large on the door of Snape's study, and he even brought himself to congratulate Neville on the success of the campaign in keeping up morale.

"It's getting boring, though," he said to a select audience in the Ravenclaw common room one evening in November. "Even Snape isn't getting mad about graffiti any more."

"Neville and Ginny have a plan," Luna said. "Something to make Professor Snape really cross." She smiled to herself, and Michael regarded her sceptically.

"Is it dangerous?" he asked. "Is it mad and reckless? Is it Gryffindor all over?"

Luna raised her hands above her head, apparently enjoying the way the light played between her fingers.

"I suppose you would think so, Michael," she said softly. "But I know all about it, so you needn't worry. I'm tired. Goodnight everybody."

And with that she wandered off towards the girls' dormitories. Michael shook himself, and turned back to the others.

"Time for a more – subtle – plan I think," he murmured.

Two days later, Amycus Carrow, visiting the library to find a particular Dark Arts book, found not only that title but the full Dark Arts catalogue missing. Enquiries followed. Every student's trunk was turned out and examined. Nothing was found. And a week later, a few at a time, the missing volumes began to reappear. The Carrows were furious, and Snape promised punishment for the culprits, but none could be found. If Professor Flitwick was seen being warmly congratulated by Professors McGonagall and Snape at his seventh years' proficiency at shrinking charms, that was surely a coincidence.

Neville was delighted, and greeted Michael warmly when they met. It seemed that they might be able to work together amicably after all.

DADADA

A week later, good relations between the pair were at an end. Michael lay in wait for Neville outside the Charms classroom, and confronted him angrily, if quietly.

"What the hell were you thinking of?" he demanded. "The Sword of bloody Gryffindor? What was nicking that supposed to achieve? Don't you realise you put all of us in danger?"

Neville backed away, astonished by Michael's anger. "Not – not really," he protested. "Only the three of us, and we got away with just detention with Hagrid."

"What if you hadn't been caught?" Michael demanded. "They'd have taken it out on all of us. You know they would! Aren't things bad enough already?"

Neville spread his hands wide. "We thought it was worth the risk," he said simply. "And it was, just to see the look on Snape's face. I've never seen him so angry."

Michael gaped at him, and Neville took the opportunity to escape. The two of them did not speak again that term.

DADADA

After Christmas, things were much worse. Luna had been taken from the train on the way home, and several students, whose parentage had been in question, did not return. There were one or two graffiti raids, but after a group of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor sixth-years were apprehended in the act of painting a pro-Potter slogan, and were tortured by the Carrows' favoured Slytherin seniors, even Neville had to agree that the risk of continuing such overt resistance was too great.

The mood was grimmer, and many of Dumbledore's Army concentrated on the more subtle resistance at which the Ravenclaws excelled – leaking jugs of pumpkin juice at the staff table; trip and slip jinxes outside the Carrows' classrooms; disappearing cloaks, hats and textbooks; and potions ingredients that refused to behave as they should. Others, like Neville himself, and Seamus, and even Ernie, delighted in standing up to the regime, seeming not to mind the punishments they received if it meant that people knew they were not defeated.

Beatings and imprisonments continued, and the Cruciatus curse was being used more and more frequently. Ginny Weasley was not the only student who went into hiding over the Easter holidays.

DADADA

In early April, Peter Jameson, a Ravenclaw first-year was chained up in the dungeons for asking Alecto Carrow if it was true that some Muggles were able to do things using their technology that wizards could only do with magic. He was there for more than six hours before Michael heard of it and decided he had to act.

Afterwards, when he regained consciousness in his own bed in Ravenclaw tower, Terry asked him with some exasperation what on earth he had been thinking of.

Michael closed his eyes. His head was still throbbing and his body felt as if it no longer belonged to him.

"We can't let the Gryffs have all the fun," he murmured.

Neville was at the foot of the great staircase early the next morning, and he accosted the first senior Ravenclaw he saw – Padma Patil – with an air of relief.

"Is Michael okay?" he blurted. "I heard Alecto tortured him for over an hour. Is he going to be okay?"

He looked almost as if he might cry, and Padma put a hand on his arm as she reassured him.

"He's very weak," she said. "But Madame Pomfrey says he'll be fine. She sneaked into his dormitory last night to see him. Don't worry, Neville. He'll be okay."

Neville sagged visibly with relief. "Tell him not to be so reckless in future," he commanded, before turning away, blinking rapidly.

DADADA

Things moved rapidly after that, and within a month, most of the DA were encamped in the Room of Requirement. Then – Harry Potter's return, and the final battle.

By the afternoon the bodies of the fallen – Michael's among them – had been moved into side rooms until their families could take them home. Neville was sitting alone when he was approached by a small girl who looked vaguely familiar.

"You're Neville Longbottom," she said, and he nodded wordlessly. He was very tired.

"I'm Sarah Corner," she said, and Neville saw at once why she looked so familiar. She had her brother's long face, and dark eyes. "I'm coming to Hogwarts in September." She lifted her chin proudly, although her eyes were wet and there were traces of tears on her cheeks. "I hope I'm in Ravenclaw like Michael was."

From somewhere, Neville dredged up a smile for her. "I hope so too," he said quietly. "Your brother was a brave man. I'm proud to call him my friend."

She smiled at him then, and turned away. Neville closed his eyes. He was very tired.