The only person guarding the door was Argus Filch. After all, what student would want to venture into the sheeting rain and wind that threatened to sweep a girl of Ginny's size clear into the lake. The icy rain cut painfully into her uncovered face as she darted across the grounds, trusting her disillusionment charm and the storm to keep her concealed from anyone watching from the grounds. The rain poured down the sides of the greenhouses as she ran from one to the next, tugging on doors. Greenhouse Four was unlocked.
In normal circumstances, she might have checked for some sign of Professor Sprout, but the water was beginning to pour out of her shoes. She threw herself inside the greenhouse door and saw a flash of movement at the far end.
Nevile Longbottom was standing toward the back of the greenhouse, his wand at the ready. His other hand was clutching some kind of bulbous carrot. He lowered his wand only slightly at the sight of Ginny. "What are you doing out here?"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"You shouldn't be out here," he said reproachfully.
Ginny left puddles in her wake as she approached. "Neither should you."
Neville said nothing. Ginny was one of the few who knew that Neville's Herbology mark had been enough to secure him special permission from Sprout to be in the greenhouses after curfew. But Snape had brought an end to that. Not even prefects were allowed to leave the castle after dark these days. And hardly anyone dared disobey, with Snape and the Carrows creeping around the castle.
"How did you know I was here anyway?" Neville asked churlishly.
"Seamus said you weren't in the dormitory and I just thought you might have come out here after—well, after today." The image of Anthony's limp and impossibly contorted body swam to the front of her mind, and she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.
Neville turned his back on Ginny and began to repot the carrot. His large hands moved through the roots with a surprising amount of precision, and she watched in silence as he carefully adjusted each of the individual roots before beginning to cover them with a layer of Professor Sprout's fertilizer.
Neville's broad shoulders hunched, and Ginny could see the line on the neck where Amycus had held a knife a fortnight before. It was only half-healed.
With a start, Ginny realized that she could no longer hear the rain. It was still pounding upon the glass roof above their heads, but there must have been some sort of spell to keep the noise out. It was almost eerie. The only sound was of Neville's spade scraping against the edge of the pot and the gentle drip of her robes onto the stone floor.
Only when Neville had placed the pot on a high shelf and removed his dragon hide gloves did he speak. "I can't do this." He still wasn't looking at her.
Ginny felt as though a large weight had hit her in the stomach. She hadn't expected this.
"What?"
He whirled around to face her. "I don't—We don't know what we're doing, Ginny. Umbridge was one thing, but the Carrows are-" He trailed off, but Ginny didn't need to hear him say what they both knew. The whole of Hogwarts had seen Anthony made an example of. She didn't know what had been more sickening: Anthony's screams or Amycus's toothy smile.
"I'm crap at this," Neville continued desperately. "I don't have a plan or anything, and I let Anthony—You deserve better. All of the D.A."
Ginny bristled. "We deserve better?"
"A real leader. Like—
Neville, I swear to Merlin that if you say Harry Potter I will throw one of these bloody plants at your head."
Neville looked moderately alarmed. "What?"
Ginny sighed. "Look," she said, "Harry isn't here. And we didn't pick you because we thought you would do exactly what Harry would. We picked you because we though that you could lead the D.A., whether it's pamphlets or watching out for first years. So shut up about Harry and concentrate on leading the bloody D.A."
"I tried to lead the D.A.!" said Neville, shouting. Ginny nearly jumped backward in surprise. "And look where it's gotten us. Parvati and Michael were bad enough, but this—Ginny, I'm responsible for this."
"You're also responsible for getting the rest of us to safety in time. Or did you forget that part? If you hadn't thought of that idea with the patronus, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You, Neville Longbottom, are responsible for the fact that I am standing in front of you right now instead of being taken by the Carrows."
Neville looked away. "Try telling that to Anthony."
"You know there wasn't a better option, and Anthony—" her voice caught, "He'll understand that too. We all knew there was a risk of getting caught."
"If I hadn't told Ernie to go down the left corridor—"
"Look," said Ginny, cutting him off. "Do you think we need to stop? Retreat?"
Neville shoot his head jerkily. "Of course not. If we stop, none of it means anything. Their sacrifices. Anthony, Dumbledore, Cedric, my parents. And the Carrows are-we have to keep going."
"There you go. That's why you're the leader, Neville."
"Anthony–"
"You fought with the rest of us at the Department of Mysteries, didn't you? And who was it that saved me from being cut open with a severing hex the night Dumbledore died? Or what about the other day? Do you know how many people who would have stuck out their neck like that?"
"Harry would."
"Maybe. But Neville, what you said to Alecto, and the way you said it, that was about as Gryffindor as it gets. You didn't see the way the rest of them were talking after you left."
"We didn't pick you as the leader of the D.A. just because of your good looks, Neville. What you just said—about their sacrifices meaning something—that's why.
"Every student in school saw those posters we put up two weeks ago. You are responsible for the fact that the D.A. has grown twice over since the year started. You are responsible for the fact that every D.A. member older than third year can cast a decent stunning spell."
Neville turned slightly pink.
"Look," Ginny said, "forget about Harry."
Neville looked genuinely alarmed. "What—"
"You heard. Forget about Harry. You're Neville Longbottom. So stop being Harry's dormitory mate or his successor or whatever and start being Neville fucking Longbottom."
"I don't know—
"You are Neville Longbottom and you are decent and loyal and brave and good at magic," said Ginny. "Say it."
"What?"
"Say it. Say I'm Neville Longbottom and I'm decent and loyal and brave and good at magic."
"You're kidding."
"Just do it."
Neville sighed. "Fine. I'm Neville Longbottom and I'm decent and loyal and brave and good at magic."
"Do it again."
"I'm Neville Longbottom and I'm decent and loyal and brave and good at magic."
"Good. Rehearse that in the bathroom mirror or something until you believe it, yeah?"
He didn't speak, but Ginny could see something whirring into motion behind his brown eyes. It was the same look Harry wore when he was weaving together some life-endangering plan or Hermione when someone gave her something difficult to research.
"Yeah," he said vaguely.
"Good," said Ginny. "Now come inside. We've got to make a plan."