We will make it
Summary: Little insight to the terrors inside Hogwarts while the Golden trio are out hunting Horcruxes. I always wanted to write a little story about the relationship between Ginny and Neville.
The screams never left. They were screams of misery, of pain, and, from her own clenched lips, that of a single name, Harry, always Harry.
"Is Potter going to come and save you little girl," Alecto's high-pitched sneer seemed to penetrate my mind as I continued up to the common room. "Where is he? Where is Potter, pretty girl? I thought he fancied you?"
Clenching my lips against the pain, I shook away the memory of my most recent detention. This one had been especially painful, seeing as Professor Amycus thought it funny to make me use the Cruciatus curse against a couple of first years. After I had failed to perform to the Carrow's standards, they had turned to me, using the curse on me as a demonstration.
I finally reached the staircase that led up to the Gryffindor dormitories and found as I reached the last step how tired and sore my body felt. The Fat Lady was starting to drift off to sleep as I made my way towards her, murmuring the password under my breath, seeking entrance.
The Fat Lady didn't move, so I nudged her picture, whispering the password hoarsely. Finally, she stirred, looked down, and seeming to recognize me, her gaze turned stern.
"Oh, it's you," the Fat Lady quipped. "And what are you doing out at this hour, Miss Weasley?"
"Detention," my voice was strained and rough from all of the screaming.
"I'm sorry to say dear," the Fat Lady continued, "but the password was changed at midnight."
For a split moment, dread seeped through me as the implications of her words settled in. All I wanted at this moment was to crawl into my bed and sleep for days, hopefully putting this detention behind myself.
"Oh, alright," the Fat Lady said softly, "just this once… and it's only because I like you. Hurry on in," she called, sliding the door open for me to enter.
As soon as I entered, I stopped, noticing a large lump on the couch facing the fire. For a moment, a single, glorious moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, it was him, sitting on the couch we used to share, waiting for me. But then I noticed the long, gangly legs, wavy, brown hair, and the face of a boy who was forced to mature at a rapid pace over the past couple months.
"Neville?" My voice barely reached a whisper, but somehow he heard me.
Neville shot up from the couch, wiping his wand out of his pocket and pointing it in my general area, though he couldn't see me in the light of the fire yet. I took this moment to observe the boy who had become another brother to me. I remembered when I had first gotten to know him, in my third year, after he asked me to the Yule Ball. We hadn't known each other extremely well beforehand, and we had only gone as friends, but after that year, we had grown to know each other quite well.
He was there for me the nights when Hermione was too busy studying and Luna was in her own common room, talking with her own group of friends. He was there for me after I found out Harry was dating Cho Chang, and the one who pushed me to date Dean Thomas. He was there for me after Dumbledore's funeral, when what I needed most was a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold. But mostly, he was there for me during the terror. We were each other's confidents, each giving the other strength after a particularly hard day in classes, or after hearing bad news on the radio. This was my first year at Hogwarts without the comfort of an older brother, but Neville had taken it upon himself to fill those shoes. He had the gentle touch that was Charlie and Bill, the voice of reason that was Percy; he made me smile and laugh as the twins would and was protective, as I knew Ron no doubt would be.
I had watched as Neville grew and matured before my eyes. He went from being the chubby-cheeked, clumsy fourth year to a tall, toned, mature man who was now a leader amongst a small group of defiant students at Hogwarts. He had to be, in the current situation, the most respected Gryffindor in all of Hogwarts amongst the students.
"Ginny," he called quietly, still pointing his wand towards me. "Is that you?"
"You shouldn't wait up for me," my voice rasped as I entered into the light, allowing him to see my bruised and battered skin.
"How bad was it?" I watched as his eyes scrutinized my every move while I moved over to the couch, taking a seat slowly, cautiously.
"Bad," I whispered. "They tried to make me crutio a couple first years…I didn't even do it and they still screamed…"
Neville turned and sank onto the couch beside me, trying to move slowly so he didn't jostle the couch too much for my sake. I could tell he wanted to do something, comfort me in some way, like he always did, but he didn't know where to touch, because everywhere was still on fire.
"Did they use it on you," he asked timidly.
"Of course," I tried to laugh, but it came out as a weak cough.
Silence fell over us as we each sank into our own thoughts. That was one of the best things about Neville… He never felt the need to fill every moment of silence with conversation; much like Lavender or the Patil twins felt the need too. We were a close group, all of the Gryffindors, especially Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, Neville, our Ravenclaw friends, Luna and Padma, and I, but it was Neville and I who the leaders of the reformed DA, the ones who were the closest, especially since Luna had not returned.
"I screamed his name," I said, watching as the fire danced before us. "I don't know why I did it… The Carrows had a right laugh at that…"
Neville's hand snaked over the couch to grab mine, giving it a light squeeze as I succumbed to my emotions, breaking little by little beside the boy who was as much as my brother as the other Weasley boys.
"I'm just so tired," I went on, ignoring the tears that slipped down my cheeks. "And so damn scared all the time! I mean, we are in Hogwarts, which is supposed to be the safest place for witches and wizards, and look at us! Look at me…
"I remember when I used to complain about having detentions with Hagrid," I managed a weak snort, my throat burning. "Because I knew we'd just go into the forest, but now… Now I'd do anything to walk into that damn forest. Anything would be better than spending quality time with the Carrows."
While I had been talking, Neville scooted closer and closer to me, slowly pulling my quivering body against his so I could lean on him for support. I hadn't even realized I was shaking until Neville wrapped an arm around me, making me put most of my body weight against his side.
"I can't stop thinking about him," my voice sound strangled. "I just miss him so much."
With the last word, I broke, throwing myself into wrenching sobs, burying my face in Neville's chest as he stroked my red, matted hair. I rarely succumbed to tears in all of my 16 years of life; my mother even told me that I was a tough infant, rarely spending the night crying. I always thought this was due to the fact that I was the youngest sister to six older brothers, but after as I moved into this year, I realized it was something else entirely.
I realized that I took it upon myself to be strong for my family. I thought it was my job to be strong for my parents, who already had too much to deal with in life with seven children and a war looming over their heads. I found it to be my purpose to be a strong confident for my older brothers, building a special relationship with each of the six most important men in my life.
With Neville though, I found I never had to be strong. I still didn't find myself to be exceptionally weepy, but in those rare moments, like now, I knew that Neville would be there, offering me his shoulder to cry on, his hand to hold.
"We're going to be okay, Gin," Neville said softly after my crying had subsided. "I know it's tough, but this will just give us interesting stories to tell Harry and them when they get back, right?"
Sniffling, I gingerly pulled away to give Neville a watery, sympathetic smile, punching him, mockingly on the shoulder.
"You have got to be sick of me by now," my voice sounded extremely thick. "I mean, everyday, I practically spit bogeys all over you."
Neville looked at me very seriously, "Ginny, you're my best friend," and then he broke out into a nervous grin, "Plus, frankly, I'm a little concerned about what your brothers would do to me if they found out I wasn't taking care of you."
"Well they can sod off," I retorted. "I can take care of myself."
"And don't we all know it," Neville smiled, patting my knee. "But you should really get up to bed. You look dead on your feet."
He pulled me into a tight hug, making my sore muscles scream in protest, but I hugged him back nonetheless, squeezing his comforting form against mine. All too soon, he moved away, pulling me up to stand with him. We both went our separate ways, him moving up to the boys dormitories, and I to the girls. I stepped on the first stair; a thought struck me, sending me spinning on the spot. After a moment of dizziness, I came back to my senses, calling out quietly to Neville.
"Have you heard anything from Luna?"
Neville turned to look at me solemnly, and we both knew the answer before he even uttered a word. Of course we hadn't heard anything, just like we hadn't heard anything for weeks, ever since she first disappeared during the Christmas holiday break. She hadn't even made it onto the train…
"Right," I whispered, turning to head up the stairs, my head hung in sad defeat.
Neville's voice sounded behind me, strong and true, "She's still out there, fighting, just like all of us. Just like Harry. We just have to keep fighting, Gin. We'll make it in the end, Ginny, you just wait and see. We'll make it through this mess."