Not Over Yet

Chapter 1

A/N: Well, I've been in a writing mood lately, and this is what springed up. Every chapter is a different character, detailing the events after the Wizarding War. So now, I present to you, chapter one of Not Over Yet, Harry and Neville after the Final Battle. Somewhat connected to Major Miscalculation, and Nothing Boring About A War. However, you don't need to read those first, you'll still be able to understand this. But I do advise that you scurry over to my profile and take a peek. ;) Please tell me what you think!

Summary: Basically, Voldemort is gone, and everyone is supposed to be happy ... but are they, really? Because the war may be won, but the battle for a normal life isn't over yet. This story is doing just that - portraying the fact that not everything is cheerful and dancing just because a war is won. This fic will be telling little stories from a number of characters, so stay tuned. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have discovered the joys of writing fanfiction, and original stories. Thanks, JKR. :)

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Harry's jaw dropped.

He couldn't help himself. He had done it. It was over. Finished. He would have continued describing the ending in his head in this manner, but he felt dizzy, and light-headed. He felt like dancing, like cheering. But his body was numb all over, and he was exhausted. Without a sound, he fell forwards onto his knees. The ground was muddy from being trampled on during the battle, but he didn't care. His appearance wasn't really important at that moment.

There was a low rumbling noise in his ears. It was a while before he realised that it was cheering. He looked up.

Almost immediately, many warm bodies were pressing against him, and the sound of cheering was deafening him. His head was throbbing; he felt like screaming.

'You did it, Harry!' Tonks was yelling in his ear, 'You beat him!'

There were many slaps on the back, and tears of joy. But there was a bitterness to it too. Harry noticed, as two Aurors helped him off the mud, that there were bodies lying scattered all over the place. All, very still and lifeless. A short distance away, a group of Order members had rounded up the Death Eaters, and they were all bound and gagged. The Giants that Voldemort had used ... there was one of them, still roaring and stamping, Grawp still trying to wrestle him to the ground, Hagrid at his side. A number of wizards rushed up to them, and together, managed to bring it down.

While he was seeing this, his mind was a blur. He couldn't think; it was painful to think.

Suddenly, his whole body stiffened. A lot of people had rushed to him just now. But where were Ron and Hermione?

He pulled away from the Aurors, and he was suddenly more aware of his surroundings. His heart was banging against his ribcage, and his breath came out in shallow gasps. Harry looked around, his eyes darting from limp body to body, trying to find a mop of red hair ... a mane of bushy brown ...

'What the -?' one of the Aurors held up his hands, startled. 'Potter - what?'

There she was.

His heart went cold. He staggered over to the limp form of Hermione, and fell to his knees beside her. His hands were shaking as he turned her over; her eyes were closed, but he could feel her breathing slowly. A wave or relief washed over him, but it ebbed away rather quickly. For just then, his eyes had wandered a few feet away ... to where a huge snake was coiled. From underneath said snake, he could see a hand.

He let Hermione down gently, and crawled, on all fours towards the snake. It seemed to take for ever, to reach it. But when he did, he placed his hands underneath the snake's belly, and lifted. It was heavy, and with a lot of effort, he managed to move it aside.

The sight that met him wasn't pretty.

The body of a man lay before him, a chunk torn out of his side. His robes were damp with blood, and his eyes were wide open and glassy. Harry shuddered just looking at him. He averted his eyes. Another body lay beside him, a young man. This particular youth's breaths were coming out in chokes, and gasps. But even then, he was unconsious, eyes closed, sweat mingled with the dirt and blood on his freckled face.

Harry stared at the face, not breathing. He pressed his lips together, to stop the yell that was threatening to burst out. His brain felt jammed. Not Ron. No, please not Ron. There was a long, painful pause, and one of the Aurors who had helped him before came to crouch down next to him.

Without a word, the man stretched forwards, and took Ron's limp hand in his. There was a pause, then he turned to Harry.

'You better take this one to St. Mungo's. And quick. I'll stay here and help the others.'

Harry took one of Ron's arms and lifted him off the ground. He thought of the time when he had done the same with his cousin Dudley. And now, in his state, he couldn't help but feel relieved that Ron was only a half of Dudley's weight. 'How about -?' he looked at Hermione, who looked quite peaceful as she was.

'I'll take care of the girl,' said the Auror urgently. 'You take the boy - before it's too late.'

It felt good to be told what to do. He had been the one giving the instructions for so long, that he had forgotten how it was like. Hermione nagging him to do his homework didn't count. He nodded once, and took one step forwards.

---

There was a lot going on in Hogwarts. The Death Eaters were rounded up and under the watchful eye of Madame Pince, the librarian, and Filch, the caretaker. With eyes like theirs, they didn't stand a chance of escaping. Neville couldn't help but wonder whether there was something going on between the two. It had been a joke among the students for quite a while. Neville almost smiled.

But there were injured people to attend to, and wrongs to right.

His head was spinning. A lot had happened that night; the Death Eaters had broken in through Gryffindor Tower, and he was among the few who had stayed behind to stop them from going any further. He cringed, thinking of the sixth-year who had doubted him. But Neville couldn't blame him. He had always been a bit of a coward.

Not only that, but there were casualties. There was a small corner of his mind, that nagged him. What if he hadn't made the students stay and help? The poor kid wouldn't be dead, then. Shaking his head with a sigh, Neville walked on. He had to get to the Hospital Wing, to check on the students there. McGonagall had sent him - a very pale and shaky McGonagall that Neville had never encountered before.

It was frightening, to see McGonagall like that. It was almost as bad as seeing Dumbledore's body, wrapped up in cloth, ready for his funeral.

Suddenly, voices reached his ears; low, whispering voices. They were coming from a door to his right. The Charms classroom. Neville stopped, and for a wild moment, he wondered whether some of the Death Eaters had escaped after all.

Heart thumping, he took out his wand and held it in front of him, like a sword. He approached the noise, cautiously.

He crouched down, ear pressed to the keyhole, straining his ears to listen. He barely noticed the sweat dripping slowly off his face.

His eyes widened, as he listened. He could hear two voices; both male.

'We can't let this continue,' one of the voices hissed.

'I know that very well,' snapped the other. 'And what with the Dark Lord gone ...'

'Shut up!' the first voice said in a frantic whisper, 'He might come back. That's what he did before!'

'I doubt it. He's probably gone for good.'

'But -'

'Don't you dare "But" me. So what, if he's gone? We're smart enough to get out of the Ministry's way. Tell you what. What if he is still out there, eh? What if we were the ones who brought him back ...'

There was a short pause. 'We would ... he would ...'

'We'd be rewarded, won't we? That'll be more that what all the others got. Rewards beyond our wildest dreams ... and we could give him more than that.' The voice had reduced to a whisper, and Neville strained his ears to listen.

'More?' said the other voice, in a feverish whisper.

'We could get rid of Potter. So when we do bring him back ...'

'Nobody could stop him ...' the other voice finished, sounding excited.

'Exactly. Now ... come on, before they find us. Put your mask on, you idiot!'

Neville realised what was about to happen a split moment before it did.

The door opened, smacking him right in the face. Neville let out a cry of pain, as the side of his face throbbed painfully. Blinking through the pained tears in his eyes, he saw two tall figures, towering above him. There was a split second, where nobody moved. The Death Eaters were probably too surprised to react, and Neville couldn't think straight.

Immediately, both Death Eaters took out their wands.

Neville was going to die. He knew it. But he didn't want to die lying down like that. Let death come, if it had to. Neville whipped out his wand, and in that split moment, many things went through his head. Voledmort was gone. These people were out to get Harry ... he had to tell him, at least. Or stop them. Something.

He pointed his wand at the ceiling.

'Reducto!' he yelled.

There was a loud crash, and he heard the Death Eaters cry out in pain as the ceiling came crashing down upon them.

Just as he was about to crawl away, maybe to call the teachers, a flaw appeared in his spur-of-the-moment plan. A terrible weight landed on his legs, pinning him down. The pain was blinding; Neville opened his mouth, but his scream of pain was drowned by the sound of falling debris. He choked as the dust got into his eyes, his mouth, his nose. He couldn't see anything, on account of the thick blanket of dust all around him.

Neville felt as if his sense had been numbed out. All he could see was grey. All he could hear was a constant rushing. All he could feel was the terrible throbbing pain in his head and legs.

When the 'avalanche' did end, Neville was lying on his front, barely able to move the rest of his body. His head was spinning, and there was an odd drowsiness in his eyes. He struggled to lift his head, maybe to call for help. But exhaustion took over, and he laid his head down on the floor, and closed his eyes.

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A/N And that wraps it up for this chapter. Stay tuned, 'cause I'm going through a lot of characters after this. Most probably students only, though. Next chapter ... well. I'm not going to tell you, am I? Let it be a surprise. :) Please leave a review, and tell me what you think. :)