Happy Birthday, Neville!
This story is based on the film version of Deathly Hallows Part 2. I have not seen the movie in a few weeks, so some of the little details such as specific lines and the sequence of events may have slipped my mind. If this is the case, I humbly apologize.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the character of Neville Longbottom, or the world of Harry Potter.
The Ones Who Love Us Never Really Leave Us
The sun had just begun to rise over the horizon when they returned.
At first, Neville didn't notice them. He was busy surveying the battle-scarred courtyard, limping as he walked from the pain in his right side, a result of a Sectumsempra curse he hadn't dodged in time. He spotted the Sorting Hat lying on the ground under a thin pile of rubble, dirty and torn, looking utterly woebegone. Neville picked it up and attempted to brush some of the dirt and bits of stone off of it when he heard a crash from in front of him. Looking up, he saw a procession of people marching towards them across the bridge; a fallen giant's body had just been pushed off of the bridge to clear their path, the source of the loud crash, Neville guessed.
At the forefront of the group he could see Voldemort, a cruel grin on his serpentine face, his precious snake draped around his shoulders. Next to him, Neville saw with a stab of recognition, was Hagrid. He was bloody and beaten, and massive tears were falling into his beard as he was forced onward by the Death Eaters. Cradled in the half-giant's arms was a limp body.
Ginny came out behind him, her father's arm around her. "Who's that . . . Hagrid's carrying?" she asked as the other survivors of the battle poured out into the courtyard and gathered around them, Ron and Hermione standing just behind him and Seamus walking up on Ginny's left. The procession of Death Eaters marched in and stood together on the far side, Hagrid at the front of them, while Voldemort strode forward towards the defenders. "Neville, who is it?" Ginny said, more urgently. Neville didn't answer her. His stomach had dropped horribly as he saw the face of the body in Hagrid's arms, his eyes wide in disbelief. No, he thought desperately. It can't be…. His throat was dry; shock and dread hit him like a wall of ice-cold water.
"Harry Potter is dead!" cried Voldemort triumphantly. Ginny screamed, her voice filled with pain and horror. "NO! NOOO!" She ran at the Death Eaters, tears falling down her face, but before she could go more than a few feet her father had grabbed her around the middle, while at the same time Voldemort raised his wand and shot a warning curse into the air.
"SILENCE!" He screamed, as Mr. Weasley dragged his daughter back. "Stupid girl…. Harry Potter is dead. From this day forth, you put your faith in me." Voldemort smirked maliciously before turning to his followers. "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" He cried again, his arms spread wide, and a torrent of laughter rose from the crowd of Death Eaters as Voldemort chuckled and turned to face the battered Hogwartians once more, a cheery smile on his face. "And now is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us… or die."
No one moved. Everyone was looking at Harry with tears in their eyes, some openly sobbing into their hands, other's hugging and comforting each other. After a few long moments, in which Voldemort's arms slowly began to drop and an expression of extreme impatience appeared on his white face, the voice of Lucius Malfoy spoke out from the crowd of Death Eaters.
"Draco!"
At once, the defenders looked around for the boy whose name had just been called. Draco Malfoy was standing off to the side, near Luna and Dean, his face covered in dirt and cuts like the rest of them. He too stood his ground, looking across the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters at his father, who stood at the front of his group, looking just as desperate and scared as the others.
"Draco," Malfoy said again, holding out his hand to his son. Draco didn't move.
"Draco," echoed a softer, gentler voice, and Neville saw Narcissa Malfoy standing next to her husband. "Come."
Draco looked around at the others, clearly torn between his family and his friends. Then, reluctantly, he stepped forward from the group, walking over to Voldemort.
"Ah, well done, Draco," said Voldemort, smiling at him as he approached and pulling him into an awkward attempt at a hug. Clearly he had never done such a thing to anyone. "Well done," he repeated in what he undoubtedly thought was a fatherly voice; after a few moments he released Draco, who strode over to his parents with a look of revulsion on his pale face. His mother put her arm around him in a much warmer embrace and led him into the crowd.
Neville barely noticed any of this. Fury had boiled inside him over the course of Voldemort's gloating speech, and he wanted nothing more than to run out at him and beat him with his bare hands. No sooner had this thought formed in his mind than he felt a weight in his left hand, and, looking down, he saw the Sorting Hat still clutched in his grip. There was something sticking out of it, a silver object with a large, gleaming ruby set on the end, which Neville was sure had not been there a moment ago. He looked up at Voldemort and, with a sudden surge of will, he limped out from the crowd towards him, blood staining one side of his face. Voldemort looked at Neville in surprise.
"I admit, I'd hoped for better," he said with a smirk, and the Death Eaters erupted into raucous laughter behind him. Voldemort chuckled softly and addressed Neville. "And who might you be, young man?"
"Neville Longbottom," he replied casually. The Death Eaters shrieked with laughter once more, but Bellatrix Lestrange laughed harder than anyone, her gaunt, once-beautiful features twisted into an expression of malicious glee. Neville balled his free hand into a fist, managing to fight back his sudden urge to attack her as he stared into the red eyes of Voldemort without a trace of fear, keeping the Sorting Hat at his side.
Voldemort smiled humorlessly. "Well, Neville, I'm sure we can find a place for you in our ranks—" he began, but Neville cut across him.
"I'd like to say something!" he said loudly. Voldemort's smile faded, replaced with a snarl as he reached his hand out as if to smack Neville, pulling it back an instant later and curling it into a fist. "Well, Neville, I'm sure we'd all be fascinated by what you have to say," he responded, his voice shaking with suppressed rage.
Defiance in his heart, Neville said, "It doesn't matter that Harry's gone."
"Stand down, Neville!" called Seamus warningly from behind him, and Neville turned to face him instead. "People die every day!" he said. "Friends…. Family…." He paused. "Yeah, we lost Harry. But he's still with us," he insisted, and he hit the left side of his chest with his open hand. "In here!" He paused again, and then added, "So's Fred… Remus… Tonks… all of them." His voice shook slightly, and he took a minute to calm it before speaking again. "They didn't die in vain!"
He turned back to Voldemort, who was laughing cruelly at Neville, his teeth bared. "But you will!" he yelled. "Because you're wrong! Harry's heart did beat for us! For all of us!" And with a final cry, he seized the hilt of Godric Gryffindor's sword and pulled it out of the hat, holding it ready to strike. But before he could do more than wave it threateningly, he saw a flurry of movement behind and to the left of Voldemort, and Neville looked around to find the source. What he saw made his heart skip several beats.
Harry had rolled sideways out of Hagrid's arms and landed on the stone ground, getting quickly to his feet. Voldemort turned in his direction and his cruel smirk vanished, replaced with an expression of shock and horror similar to the one seen on Ginny's face only minutes before. Harry grabbed his wand, pointed it at Nagini, and shouted "Confringo!" and a blast of fire shot out of the end of his wand and launched itself at the great snake, but it merely bounced off of it and hit the crowd of Death Eaters instead, some of whom were able to jump to the side in time. Harry ran for the far wall and dived over it into the covered section of the courtyard, running out of the way as Voldemort screamed in fury and launched his own curse, which narrowly missed its target as it exploded. Voldemort launched another curse which again Harry barely managed to avoid, and then another, each with a rage-filled cry.
Neville, recovered from the shock of seeing the man who he had seconds before believed to be dead spring to his feet and begin dueling, gripped the Sword of Gryffindor tightly and ran at Voldemort, only to be knocked backwards by a curse and thrown through the open doors of the Great Hall. He hit his head on the hard stone floor and felt pain burst from the point of collision. He had just enough energy to lift his head and look back out into the courtyard; Death Eaters and Hogwartians were dueling, some even fighting inside the Entrance Hall. He could just make out the Malfoys breaking away from the throng and running away down the bridge. Then Neville's vision went black, and he saw no more.
He awoke to an uncomfortable ringing in his ears and the muffled sounds of shouts and loud bangs. He sat up slowly and looked around, seeing jets of light streak across the Great Hall and bodies fall to the ground as a spell exploded against the far wall. Down by his feet laid the sword, and without hesitation Neville seized it and got to his feet, the ringing becoming fainter until it ceased. Behind him, he heard a familiar voice cry, "Avada Kedavra!" and, turning around, he saw Bellatrix Lestrange dueling Ginny atop one of the long house tables; Bellatrix's curse had just missed Ginny's face by mere inches. Instantly, Ginny was pushed aside by Mrs. Weasley, who stood up onto the table and said in a deadly half-whisper, "Not my daughter, you bitch!"
Bellatrix's laugh of disbelief faded instantly as Mrs. Weasley shot a Killing Curse which narrowly missed her, turning instead into a snarl as she shot a curse back at her opponent, then another, and then another, each one deflected by Mrs. Weasley with a swipe of her wand. Bellatrix laughed again, but was once more cut short as Mrs. Weasley twirled her wand and attacked with a series of deadly curses aimed directly at her heart. Finally, a single freezing charm from Mrs. Weasley struck Bellatrix in the chest, and she gasped as her skin tightened around her bones and her entire body froze in place. Another slash of her wand sent a Reductor curse flying at her helpless opponent, and an instant later Bellatrix was ripped to pieces by the force of the spell, and Mrs. Weasley smiled triumphantly and pulled her daughter into a loving hug.
Neville watched them until he heard a loud bang and a shout from behind him, and he spun around to see what was going on: Ron and Hermione were franticly backing away from the great snake, which was slithering towards them from the main staircase. Without thinking, Neville ran forward at the serpent, and as it lunged into the air, poised to strike, Neville swung the sword upwards in a deadly arc that cut clean through the snake's neck. Instantly, both head and body disintegrated into a blast of dark magic, which tore violently through the air before vanishing into nothing. After a few long moments, Neville finally lowered the sword, breathing heavily, as Hermione and Ron got to their feet; Ron's arm was securely around Hermione's shoulders.
Neville stood there for a long time, gripping the sword tightly with both hands. Before long, however, he became aware enough of his surroundings to notice that the bangs and shouts from across the castle and grounds seem to have suddenly ceased. He looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were both looking inquisitively back into the Great Hall; they, too, had noticed the strange quiet. Neville glanced through the doors and saw, with a great deal of surprise, that the fighting seemed to be over.
Most of the Death Eaters now lay dead upon the floor, and the others had been either stunned or, for some reason, simply given up. Many of these survivors were now being led to the dungeons and stripped of their wands, to later be shipped off to Azkaban. Neville saw a group of them, including Dolohov and Yaxley, being roughly taken out of the Great Hall by Kingsley and McGonagall. The three of them looked at each other before walking into the Hall, and Neville looked around at Seamus, Dean, Aberforth, and all the others who sat at one of the house tables or else on the floor. Everyone was either joyously celebrating or comforting their friends and family.
Neville himself sat down on the steps leading up to the staff table; he didn't notice until the next moment, however, that Luna had already been sitting there. They half-glanced at each other and sat in awkward silence for a time before Neville noticed that Harry had entered the Hall. Neville caught his eye as he walked past, and one look at his face confirmed what he'd been suspecting; Riddle was dead. He smiled and nodded once at Harry, who smiled back and went off towards Ron and Hermione. Neville put his head in his hands, wanting simply to crawl into bed and sleep for days. He hadn't slept for at least that long.
He felt someone watching him and looked up again, thinking it to be Luna. However, she was staring at what seemed to be a random stretch of wall to her left and wasn't paying him the least bit of attention, so he instead looked around the Hall to the others gathered inside, talking and laughing and comforting and mourning each other. After a moment, he saw Hannah Abbott sitting at one of the long tables, alone, her eyes on him. She didn't look away as she realized he had seen her. On the contrary, she smiled at him. Neville felt himself smile back, and, thinking to himself that perhaps sleep could stand to wait another few minutes, he stood up, said goodbye to Luna, who was still staring avidly at the wall, and walked over to meet her.