Neville sat in St. Mungo's with the Healers. His beautiful wife was in labor with their first child. How he loved her! He remembered first falling in love with her at school during the D.A. meetings. She had been so strong, even though her mother had been killed by Death Eaters. She fought her way through the final battle and finished with minimal injuries. They had taken comfort in each other after they won.
He proposed not even a year later. He had gotten high marks on his NEWTs and had a position at Hogwarts after Professor Sprout retired. He was ready to move forward with his life. He was enthused when she accepted his offer of marriage. With her, he was the best he had ever hoped to be. They were married shortly after.
Now, two years later, Hannah was bringing their first child into the world. He had been terrified when she had first informed him that she was pregnant, but he was relaxed now. He knew she would be the best mother possible.
She handed him his daughter, a fragile little creature he never imagined he could help bring into the world. She was so tiny, so breakable. He vowed to protect them both.
It was not to be. His beautiful Hannah… He couldn't protect her from this. There was so much blood… He hadn't seen that much blood ever. The healer whisked away his daughter as the rest rushed over to his wife. She was gripping his hand so tightly as they cast spells and ran for potions. He brushed her hair out of her eyes as she looked up at him, eyes filled with fear.
"You're going to be all right," he reassured her.
But they couldn't stop the bleeding. As Neville was shoved out of the way by the healers, his wife looked at him with her doe eyes, filled with longing and regret.
"I love you," she whispered.
And then he was gone, whisked right out the door. He could hear the high tones of monitoring spells and the worried voices of the Healers. And then there was nothing. He slammed his fist against a closet door, cursing loudly. They couldn't take his wife away from him. They couldn't. He sank to the floor, bawling. People passed him in the hallway, yet no one stopped.
It was much later when the Healers finally emerged from the room. They told him the nonsensical words that meant nothing. He brushed past them to his Hannah. She was sleeping. He knelt and took her hand. It was ice-cold. She was laid out to look peaceful, but he knew the truth. He had been shoved away when she needed him the most. Now she was dead, and there was nothing more he could do. He leaned down and kissed his wife good-bye.
He walked down the hallways. He had nothing more to live for.
Inevitably, he found his way down to the nursery. He entered and walked among the rows. A healer jumped forward to stop him, yet he found what he was looking for. Or more correctly, who he was looking for. He scooped up his daughter and held her close. He strolled right past the healer and out the doors. He headed home, to the empty shell of what had been. They had all sorts of baby contraptions and supplies, but it had been Hannah's thing. She had loved buying items for their future child. She had found a cottage away from Hogwarts where they could live, since the drafty castle wouldn't be good for a baby. Now she was gone. Forever. He cradled his daughter and slumped on the floor, lost in thought and mourning.
Days could have passed, even weeks without him caring. His love was gone. His future stood on pillars of salt and sand. The war had taken his parents from him, but Hannah had survived. He had thought that once it was all over, they would have a lifetime together. A life time for children, for love, for growing old together. Turns out it was only her lifetime.
The infant began to cry and Neville realized he had no idea what to do. He tried to shush her and rock her, to no avail.
It only an owl to change this.
He sent it off with frantic hands, barely managing to tie the letter onto the owl's leg. His Gran was on the Continent. Susan was on her honeymoon. Neville didn't contemplate sending his letter to either of these people. He sent it off to the one he could depend on. He set about making a bottle for his daughter in the silence left behind. He sank to the floor once again, cuddling the last bit of Hannah left. At least on the floor the memories didn't seem to swirl by so brightly and tragically.
After what felt like hours, Harry stepped through the floo, kneeling down in front of Neville.
"I have no idea what to do," Neville whispered morosely. "She's gone and I don't know what to do."
He felt his daughter lift from his arms seconds before he he was hauled to his feet. He was thrown into a messy embrace that slapped him warmly. There was still hope.
"I have most of Teddy's stuff still," Harry said firmly.
"What?" Neville asked groggily.
"You don't need to bring anything you don't want to. We have plenty of things."
"To where?" Neville asked.
"To my house. You didn't think I was going to make you stay here alone?"
Neville ducked his head.
"I'm not intruding into your life," he said softly. "You're engaged, you're getting married soon. You don't need me around."
"Neville," Harry said amusedly. "My fiancé would have my head if I didn't bring you home."
"Will you be her godfather?"
"Hope's?"
"Please?"
"Of course. I'd be honored."
They packed up nappies, formula, bottles, and clothes in silence. Neville carefully locked the door and closed the blinds. He knew he wouldn't be returning for a while. Yet, as he stepped through the floo with his beautiful daughter, he knew that there remained Hope in his life. It was time for her future now.
A/N: Interestingly enough, Hannah's name means grace. Considering Neville has been graced with Hannah's presence, it was only fitting that he should name his daughter Hope and have hope for the future.
Written for the Big/Lil Competition using the prompts ice-cold, blood, angst, Viva la vida, and N/Ha.