Anya ducked under the beam in front of her head, plonking herself down atop one of the support beams holding the ceiling up. She watched the others plan an attack calmly below her with mild interest, her wand in her hand and her body slouched against the left wall. She had retreated to the room when the Carrows had caught her helping some first years sneak away from the dungeons about a fortnight ago and hadn't left yet. They mostly took it in turns to take the passage they had invented to get some food, but she hadn't eaten in weeks and the others knew it. Most of them just ignored her presence as she mostly kept to the roof, but others attempted to force her down to the kitchens, much to her amusement. She really hadn't been in the mood for eating since her best friend was sent on the run and her other best friend had been taken from the Hogwarts Express in early January.

She sighed and flicked her wand absently, a piece of planning paper from below whizzing into her fingers from where it had been from under Seamus' quill and he turned to glare up at her, but when he saw who it was he shot her an apologetic grin before summoning another piece of paper to replace the one he had been drawing on.

He would never tell anyone, but he was a fantastic artist. Anya felt her eyes become wet when she remembered the day this drawing had happened, when she had had one of the worst days of her life and Dean, Lavender, Padma, and Seamus had thrown her into the lake to cheer her up and she had caught their hands and dragged them in after her. They were all sitting on the bank, soaked to the bone, but they were laughing, and she could see her cousin Neville attempting to shield his book under his cloak. She gave a small, trembling laugh and folded the paper, tucking it into her pocket and swiping away at a stray tear from her cheek half-heartedly.

Anya sighed and swung herself off the beam, looking down at the room below her. It was a high ceiling, but she was a witch and she knew she could make it if she used enough magic – she scoffed to herself; who would use magic? She used the beam against her back for leverage and leapt off the beam and into the air, somersaulting in the air and landing neatly on her feet in the pile of cushions that Ginny Weasley had summoned there. She ignored the polite clapping from the rest of the room and moved to sit beside Seams shakily; Anya knew he would understand how she felt, for he had been as close with Dean and Luna as she had, and he was also one of her best friends. "Hey," she greeted shakily, sitting down beside him. He looked up at her and didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulder.

"I miss them," she admitted after a moment of silence and Seamus dropped his quill to look at her as though she had just stated the obvious. "Luna was like my sister and Dean…"

Seamus nodded, his arm around her waist tightening. "You really loved him, didn't you?" his question was met with a silence, but this was all the answer he needed. "Why did you not tell him that you loved him? He loved you too," he continued, and another bout of tearful rambling was brought on by this sentence.

She buried her face in his shoulder. "I didn't know it until he'd gone," she sobbed. "How did I not notice that I loved him? How did I not notice that he loved me? We'd been so close for years and years and I'd known him all of my life – how could I ignore something this powerful? How could they take him from me? We don't know where he is or whether or not he's been caught and we don't know where they've taken Luna and whether or not we'll ever be able to see her again and – and I just feel so helpless! Harry and Ron and Hermione are out there bloody saving the world and all we can do is sit here and wait until we can do something… It hurts so much, knowing that I could have saved Luna on the train and didn't, sitting here helplessly while the man I love is running for his life out there… How can I go on without them? What if they're d-dead?"

He shook his head, setting his chin on top of her hair and closing his eyes. "Anya, I know that he loves you for a fact. He's always loved you and he will continue to do so as long as you're you. If you had noticed any sooner than it would harder for you to see him leave, and it was hard enough as it was when we heard his name on the news. Luna's your sister in everything but blood and she will continue to live even if it's only to see you one more time – she's more stubborn than we know and I know she's even more loyal than she is stubborn. They will both come back to you, even if it's only just for a moment, because they love you and they always will. You're the closest thing I have to a sister besides Lune and I'm not letting you run willy-nilly out there into the battle looking for them, because you know better than I do that they'll find you. The first thing they'll do is go looking for you and know now it."

"I'm scared," she whispered, and the sound was so broken, so vulnerable it took her a moment to realise it had slipped from between her lips. "But I'm not scared for me, I'm scared for them – Dean is out in the middle of nowhere, stumbling and searching for a place where no one will find him until he's not prejudiced against – Luna's in the cellar of some You-Know-Who supporters' house with no way to escape, enduring torture and starvation every day. It scares me to know that neither of them have a way of knowing that we love them, that we're still fighting for them, even if they're somewhere we can't see."

Seamus gave a small sigh and pulled back from her, his hands braced on her upper arms as he looked down at her. Her body was smaller than it had been for the last decade he had known her and her skin was paler than the moon, her eyes wide and large, like a frightened child's. Her normally vibrant ebony hair hung in limp curls around her pale face and her big brown eyes looked like they had seen too much. His heart melted as he looked at her skin, almost hanging off her bones it was so malnourished, and then it all about sped up in unadulterated rage. For the people who had starved her, for Dean and Luna for leaving her to cry in the dust, for himself for letting his happen. He choked slightly as her small hands tightened around his and he looked down at her sadly. "I'm sorry, Anya," his voice cracked and then he was the one crying in her arms.

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled his head into her shoulder, rubbing his back comfortingly as she closed her eyes and whispered in his ears. "They will come home and everything's going to be fine again and we'll all laugh together like we did that day by the lake and then Lavender will come to her senses and we'll kick those bloody Death Eaters' arses for making us this way. You hear me? We'll all live happily ever after, the end."

His body shook again and for a moment she was afraid he was crying harder, but when he looked up at her he was shaking with laughter. Anya scowled at him and stood up and pranced over towards Ariana's portrait, though every few moments she would suppress a shudder of laughter.

Her eyes were drawn up to the painting of Ariana Dumbledore, which had been there since the day she and Neville had dragged a couple of first years into the room while running from the Carrows and had needed a way to get to a safe place. It led anywhere you needed it to go, but it mostly took them to Aberforth's place in Hogsmeade, just a few miles away from Hogwarts and within walking distance. She squinted for the blonde girl in the painting, but she wasn't there, and her eyes widened – maybe the Death Eaters had forced the back of the painting open and had forced the occupant to take them to the end of the tunnel. She drew her wand, knowing that she was paranoid, but she glared up at the painting as though waiting for it to explode, when it came crashing open…

"Neville!" she cried, yanking him down by the hand in front of her, slapping his arm. "How dare you just leave in the middle of the freakin' night? I would thank Merlin that you left a note or you would be missing an eye by now!"

A deep, familiar chuckle rang out from behind her and her neck shot up, her eyes dancing with hope and her smile lighting up like a beacon. "Dean!" she yelled as she pulled him down from the ledge beside her, beaming at him like he was a saint and she a lowly peasant. Hesitating only a moment she grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked his lips down to meet hers, kissing him with every fibre of her being. He was frozen with shock, but then he unfroze and he slid his hands down to her waist and pulled her closer as her hands crept up into his hair.

When the two finally came back up for air, ignoring the cat-calls and wolf-whistles the rest of the room gave them, she rested her forehead against his and he brushed a curl away from her face with a small grin on his face. "You have no idea how long I've wanted that," he breathed, and she blushed and ducked her head to bury it in his chest. "I love you, you know that, don't you?"

She looked up at him after a moment. "I know that now," she said after a pause. The whole room seemed silent around them and she inwardly rolled her eyes before leaning closer to capture his lips in another searing kiss. It was like fire was coursing through her veins, like the world could be collapsing around her and it wouldn't matter. She could be standing in the middle of her parents' bedroom, a battlefield, or in the bathroom naked and she wouldn't care. She didn't care for anyone at that moment other than Dean, because he was back and that was all that mattered. "I love you, too, you idiot. Took you long enough to realise it."

"It's good to see you two have finally shook those darn Wrackspurts out of your brains," Luna's cheery voice told them from behind them and Anya all but pushed Dean out of the way, scrambling to hug her best friend after what had felt like decades but was only a few months. "I missed you," the blonde murmured, holding her just as tightly. "All I could think of down in that cellar was how much I missed our days when we didn't have to worry about anyone but ourselves and having fun."

"Are you sure that was all?" Anya breathed as she pulled back, tilting her head over to Seamus and Dean, who were embracing as the blonde blushed and shoved her roughly. "Hey! Just suggesting something here! No need to get all pushy!" She gave a giggle at the pun and Luna rolled her eyes before turning to Ginny and catching the redhead in an embrace.

"Harry!" the room was in uproar, and Anya turned around in time to catch a glimpse of bushy hair before Hermione Granger threw herself at her, embracing her tightly. "Ron! Hermione!" she yelled into the bushy hair of one of her best friends, grinning brightly at the black-haired boy and the redheaded boy as they were all assaulted from all directions.

She grinned as the crowd made a wide circle around them, throwing her arms around Ron and smiling widely at Harry over his shoulder. "Please tell me we're going to kick some serious arse around here?" she pleaded, batting her eyelashes, and the laughter that came from the room was no the forced, half-hearted laughter that had been there for the past year, but it was real, whole, a beautiful sound that filled her heart with a joy that has been absent for what seemed like years on end.

"Not exactly." Ah, there was the catch...

I know that many of you weren't expecting a story from me so quickly while I've been on a roll with another, but this one I've been planning for ages and I had to give it to all of you as a present because... because... um, well, it's because it was for me, 'kay? I had to get it out there that I absolutely do NOT plan to be known only for one story, and I will continue this with as much enthusiasm as it takes to do so. I hope you love it as much as I love writing this and I wish you all a very good weekend.

Alright, so this is definitely a one-shot. OK?

Love,

Marlene