There is this sickening fact that haunts me everyday. 'You cannot change the past'. I suppose that is true, you cannot, not even in the wizarding world. The incredulously foolish actions of my Juvenile years lead to this future I now force myself to live through. You would believe after 19 years things would pass, but, I suppose not.
If I had not stopped loving him, this all might be okay. I would not have ended up being a first-class social reject destined to do nothing amazing throughout my life. Possibly I would not have ended right back at the place I wanted to escape so badly. Now teaching the kids of my classmates. Classmates that were Aurors or Ministry workers. Classmates that were in control of my safety and well being. Damn.
Although, I might not have lucked out. I still have Neville, my best friend, therapist, judge and jury, executioner, and, well, co-worker. I was not really expecting him to become those things. I was expecting him to die in battle running away from Death eater. I've never been right though. Here he comes during the great battle brave, confident, so much unlike the Neville that I had known before, who cried after all confrontations with Snape he ever had.
And there they go, leaving Hogwarts in shambles. Dumbledore was dead, Snape was in control, and Voldemort very alive and lusting for blood, Mudblood. All Hogwarts had to protect them was Neville and myself, putting our lives on the line daily for the words we spat at the filthy Death eaters in charge. Or, well, at least people believed we were there to protect them, one-half of us had improper motives for such harsh incidents.
A school terrorized by evil and destruction, protected only by two Gryffindors. One honest and caring, one vengeful and defiant. How should the lives of the few reaming students sustain? We were all surely doomed. But, they returned eventually and he defeated the Dark Lord. Him and I fighting 'till the end; not a word shared among us. It was better that way.
Then it was all over. Everyone could move on. The remaining students alive went on to grow up, get jobs, sustain these relationships long enough to find love and marry, have kids, and be so happy it's sickening. Ginny had always liked him, you know. When he left Seventh Year she was distraught. Yelling, screaming, thrown into violent fits of rage. I heard they got married almost immediately after Seventh Year. Not that I care, though.