The Secret Life of Neville Longbottom – Part Two

The villainous Baron Draco von Malfoy gave a positively evil laugh as the machine began powering up, green bolts of electricity arcing from the various generators to fuel his ultimate triumph. “Ensure that the power systems are running properly!” he ranted to his various minions and underlings, watching them scuttle around beneath him like cockroaches, just waiting to be crushed underfoot. From the balcony overlooking his laboratory at Castle Malfoy, the ruthless Nazi nobleman oversaw the construction of experimental war machines designed to aid the Furher’s march to glory. “Faster, you dogs! Rest when you are dead!”

One of the many slave-labourers von Malfoy had conscripted for this project stumbled under his burden, the box of parts he had placed over his shoulders slipping, falling to the floor with a tremendous crash. Like lightning, von Malfoy raised his leather whip, and brought it down onto the man’s back. He screamed, and then the Baron’s men fell upon him, putting the poor fellow down for the count. “This equipment is very sensitive! Break any more, and you’ll be on a chain-gang bound for the Eastern Front!”

“The devices have been charged to twenty-five percent, and growing,” one of the scientists reported, his face hidden behind great black goggles. “We need at least a seventy-percent charge if the machines are to operated effectively, mein Baron.”

“Good, Nott, very good!” As the scientist fled from his master’s presence, the Baron threw his head back in a burst of maniacal laughter. “Once the Twin Destroyers are fully activated, then the world will tremble under the jackboots of the Baron von Malfoy! Not even the Marauding Commandos will be able to stop me!”

“They’ll find a way to stop you! I know they will!” This comment came not from the many slaves toiling in the laboratory, but from a young redhead next to the Baron, her blue eyes glaring murder at the Nazi fiend. Ginny Weasley had been captured by the Baron’s agents several days earlier, and despite the harrowing trip from the Allied lines back to the castle and the Baron’s many threats against her, the young woman remained defiant. “The Commandos have beaten you before, and they’ll do so again!”

The Baron growled at her words. The Marauding Commandos were undoubtedly his greatest enemies, the fly in his ointment, the stink at his meals. On more than one occasion the Commandos had managed to foil his villainous plots to crush the Allies, and discredited him before his Nazi superiors with their constant meddling. This time, however, would be different. “You give your lover and his team too much credit, my dear! For all their skill, they shall not stop the Twin Destroyers from reawakening! Not while I possess you as a hostage!”

Ginny strained against her bonds for the tenth time in two minutes, but as before, she remained helpless. The Baron’s minions had bound her to an elegant chair, drawing her wrists behind her back and lashing them in place with cruel cords. More ropes wrapped around her upper body beneath her small breasts, pinning her back to the chair and preventing her from moving her body an inch. A third series of coils had been drawn tight around her ankles, biting into her flesh through the elegant silk stockings she wore, the loose end pulled under the chair and secured to her wrist bonds. “They’ll come for me,” she exclaimed, renewing her struggles. The ropes creaked and whined, as if mocking her fruitless efforts at escape. “They’ve never failed to do their duty, even when I was made a prisoner of you. You’ll stop you.”

The Baron’s cruel laughter did nothing to improve Ginny’s mood. From their first encounter, von Malfoy had possessed an unhealthy fixation on the young radio operator, and was obsessed with winning her over to the German cause. This was made all the more demanding by the fact that she was in a relationship with Corporal Longbottom of the Marauding Commandos, causing his hatred of them to take on a more personal aspect. As a result, Ginny was often the target of the Baron’s schemes, and on more than one occasion, she had found herself drugged and kidnapped, the usual beginning to his attempts at seduction.

This time, von Malfoy had thought that a nice romantic dinner in front of his death-machines and instruments of torture would be the key to her heart. As it was, Ginny had been tied up in the ridiculous green silk dress he had forced her to wear, the garment exposing her shoulders and much of her neckline, while the built-in corset tightened over her stomach and highlighted her figure. “What are you planning to do with me, anyway?” she asked, shaking her head and causing her red curls to fall upon her bare shoulders.

“My dear, your beauty is beyond compare all throughout the Reich, and I would be honoured to wed such excellent Aryan stock as yourself. When the Marauding Commandos have been destroyed, you will have the honour and privilege of becoming…my bride!” The Baron seemed oblivious to the horrified look Ginny possessed, or her increasingly frantic attempts to free herself. “This is your last chance to do so, Miss Weasley. If you should disobey, then the consequences will be dire!”

“I would sooner die!” Ginny screamed, lashing out with her bound feet, hoping against hope that a good strike from her slipper-covered feet would be enough to get him to back off.

Her hopes were in vain. “Foolish woman! Very well then. Since you will not comply, then you will not experience the taste of freedom again!” he shouted, raising a balled-up piece of fabric.

To her shock, Ginny realized that the fabric was nothing less than one half of the spare pair of silk stockings that she kept in her luggage! “What-MMMMMMPH!” she cried as the Baron thrust the cloth into her mouth, making it impossible to scream coherently. “Mmmmph! MMMMMMMPH!” The second stocking was bound tightly between her teeth, cleaving her moist red lips and preventing her from forcing out the gag. She thrashed about like a wildcat as von Malfoy tugged at her hair, freeing it from the silk restraint and letting it flow in the cold wind. “MMMMMPH!”

“Hush, my dear, such futile struggles do not become you,” von Malfoy said, stroking her cheek with a gloved hand, causing her to twist away violently. “Now, watch, as the Twin Destroyers begin to charge up to full power! Witness the defeat of your precious Alli-”

The Baron’s sentence was violently halted when the outer wall of the castle exploded with tremendous force, sending stone and shrapnel hurtling into the laboratory, cutting down many of the guards. “MMMPH!” Ginny squealed in excitement, as the Marauding Commandos stormed through the breach, guns blazing.

Leading the charge was Neville himself, his noble, strong-chinned face made demonic in the harsh light of his Thompson’s muzzle flashes. Three of the Nazi goons wilted and died under the barrage of submachinegun fire, and then the leader of the Commandos stormed forth, kicking another soldier in the face. “Potter, watch that left flank! Finnegan, keep those weapons from getting online! Thomas, hit them hard and don’t let up!” Experienced eyes searched through the pandemonium for his girlfriend, widening as they found her. “Ginny!”

“MMMMMPH!” Ginny replied, throwing herself against her bonds like a madwoman. The ropes were cinched too tightly, and to her indignation, all of the knots were out of reach, causing her to scream again. “MMMPH!”

“Nein, nein, NEIN!” the Baron screamed, rushing for the controls. The Twin Destroyers were nearly ready to activate, but if the Commandos managed to stop him before then, all was lost. “Stop ze Britishers! Kill zem!” he demanded, his German accent becoming much thicker in his panic. Von Malfoy ran for the control panel as if his life depended upon it, which to no small extent, it did.

“MMMMPH!” Ginny tried to vocalize the danger, but was again foiled by the gag. Jerking her head towards the control panel, she desperately tried to make Neville understand what needed to be done. Fortunately for all, Neville was prepared. Slamming a fresh magazine into his weapon, the soldier ran full tilt towards the control panel, sliding beneath some of the lab tables and emptying the gun into a hapless quartet of Nazi soldiers. Plucking a grenade from his belt, Neville hurled the object with all his might. It was a good throw; the pineapple of death landed precisely beside the control panel that operated the Twin Destroyers. The Baron saw this and immediately ran the other direction, but too late: the grenade detonated, slagging the control panel and catching the Nazi in the shockwave, sending him head over heels. The Nazis fell into confusion with this, and the Marauding Commandos renewed their attack, cutting them down as they milled about in their confusion.

With the immediate threat gone, Neville ran over to Ginny’s side, severing her bonds with his freshly-sharpened bayonet. “Are you alright?” he asked, receiving a nod in reply. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, I’m fine,” was the answer once the gag was removed. Her concerned gaze travelled upwards to the Twin Destroyers, the two giant mechanical monsters von Malfoy had constructed. “Are they deactivated?”

“Apparently, I just destroyed the control panel in the nick of time. A few seconds later, and von Malfoy would have finished the activation. God knows how we would have survived then.” He turned to the other Commandos. “What happened to the Nazi bastard, anyway? If he slipped away again, Allied Command will be pissed, so start searching for him!”

“Knowing how much the Baron loves his tunnels, he might have slipped out through a secret passageway,” Ginny suggested. “In the meantime, do you mind if I find some fresh clothes to change into? I can’t believe he made me wear this silly thing!” she exclaimed, gesturing towards the dress.

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Neville stated, drawing her into a close embrace. “At the very least, you’ll have something to wear at the Regimental Ball next month.”

“You’re infuriating,” the girl whispered, capturing his lips in a kiss…





“…you’re the most infuriating boy I’ve ever met!” came the shrill cry, rousing Neville’s attentions back to the real world. Ginny Weasley stood before him, face burning with anger, arms crossed beneath her breasts in a very uptight fashion. “I can’t believe you? Here I am, trying to tell you about how the Gryffindor team needs another Beater, and you can’t be bothered to respond! Unbelievable!”

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” Neville mumbled, now utterly cowed by her fury. “I was just-”

“You were just what?” Ginny snapped, stamping her feet in a very childish display. “Suffering from brain damage? Merlin, you’re such a freak sometimes!” Whirling, she stormed away, leaving Neville very much confused and not a little tender after his verbal onslaught.

“More than you know, Ginny. More than you know…”