Disclaimer: I make no claim to the rights of any characters that are owned by J.K. Rowling or Warner Bros., and make no money from this venture. This work is purely for entertainment purposes.


—CHAPTER EIGHT—

Hermione

Hermione Granger was to be seated with Harry and Colin, Professor McGonagall had informed her. When she and Colin got to where they were supposed to sit, she turned around and looked at Harry, who they had left alone with Mrs Longbottom. She watched as Mrs Longbottom strode away, leaving Harry standing still as a statue, staring at where the older witch had been moments before, his mouth gaping. She didn't need to think twice as she walked towards him, ignoring the voice of Professor McGonagall behind her.

It didn't take her long to reach where Harry stood, still not moving. When she got close enough, she saw unshed tears in his eyes. She couldn't remember if she had ever seen Harry actually cry before, and it pained her beyond belief to see it happening right in front of her eyes. She touched his shoulder lightly and he seemed to jerk back into reality. He reached up a hand and wiped away the tears as if they were something to be ashamed of.

"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly, worried that she might say something wrong. "What happened?"

"Uh …" Harry murmured. It seemed to Hermione that he was deliberating over something in his mind. She heard someone walking up to join them, but she didn't turn around. When Harry spoke, it was in a voice like he was concealing something. "It was just something Mrs Longbottom said."

"What did she say?" Hermione inquired. It had to be something important or Harry wouldn't have been near crying. Harry turned to walk towards the white wooden chairs. When Hermione turned to follow, she saw Colin there.

"Nothing," Harry lied. Hermione had long since learned when he was lying. They had been friends for four and a half years after all.

"Harry," Hermione said slowly and cautiously. Harry stopped walking abruptly.

"She told me that I killed Neville," he said tonelessly. Hermione let out a strangled gasp and reached her hands up to her mouth.

"She didn't …" Colin said, shock on his face. Hermione would have said the same thing herself if she could have spoken at the time. Harry just nodded. Hermione grasped his arm.

"Harry, you didn't …" Hermione said, not knowing really what else to say. "It wasn't you. It was Bellatrix."

"I know," Harry said glumly. "But she had a point."

"Oh stop that," Hermione said sharply. Perhaps sharper than she had intended. She could feel tears in her eyes as she thought about Neville. "Mrs Longbottom is in pain. She didn't mean what she said. She couldn't possibly."

Harry looked at her strangely for a moment as though he wanted to say something, but didn't.

"Come on guys," Colin said, moving forward. "Everyone's taking their seats. I think it's about to start."

The three of them rushed to their seats. They were seated closer to the back while the Weasleys, including Ron and Ginny, and the Lovegoods sat a few rows in front of them. Hermione could see Dumbledore close to the front, seated with what looked to be Minister Fudge and someone with close-cropped grey hair. She didn't know that person, but she did see Susan Bones sitting with her, leading her to believe that the grey-haired person was, in fact, Amelia Bones.

Hermione was on the end of a row of seats, seated on the left-hand side of Harry who was sitting next to Colin. As soon as Hermione sat down, she felt a great sadness. It all suddenly become more than real. It had been real before, but this was something different. It was all happening. Everyone was there to say their final goodbyes. And that was just it. It was final.

Hermione had been to only one other funeral in her life. Her maternal grandmother had died when she was six. Looking back on it, she realised that she had started exhibiting her magical abilities at around that point. When she had attended her grandmother's funeral, she had not fully comprehended what had happened, so she had asked her father what was going on and he did the worst possible thing he could have done. He told her the truth.

Hermione had spent the whole rest of the funeral crying into her father's suit. In the car ride home she had fallen asleep and when her father woke her, she thought it had been a dream. And when she found out that it wasn't a dream, she cried some more.

It was a memory that she couldn't avoid, given the circumstances. She didn't even really notice what was happening around her. The tears were coming. She could feel them. And they only got worse when she remembered something she had managed to almost forget after all these years.

She remembered putting the body-bind curse on Neville the night they had gone to save the Philosopher's Stone.

That memory brought on a whole maelstrom of memories about Neville. They seemed to obscure her memory of the funeral as it went on. Everything was like a blur. For a while, Hermione tried to keep the tears from falling. For some odd reason, Cho Chang popped into her head while she did so, forcing Hermione to forcibly remove her.

She vaguely remembered seeing two men carrying what could only have been Neville's body. He was wrapped in red and gold velvet with what appeared to be two crests embroidered on it. From what she had read, she thought that one of the crests would be the crest of House Longbottom. The other, she could not make out. It was at about that moment when she felt Harry grab her hand.

Hermione looked at their hands clasped together, and then looked up at him. He was looking at the two older men carrying Neville's body, his brilliant green eyes shining with tears. She wondered why, exactly, he was crying. Was he, like she was, remembering long-forgotton memories of Neville? Or was it simply what Mrs Longbottom had said to him? She reflected on how Harry could be so easy to read one minute and so hard to the next. It was something that annoyed and intrigued her about him all the time.

The men placed Neville's body on a platform at the front. The platform was made of marble and behind it there were several objects that were also made of the same marble. Hermione realised that they were tombs and then it dawned on her that they were witnessing a funeral that only happens for the biggest families or for the most influention witches and wizards of the time. For the rest of the magical community, a funeral was not much different to a Muggle funeral. She did not know the specifics of what was going to happen, but she recognised it from something she had read a few years earlier.

A small man that Hermione did not take much notice of rose and stood in front of Neville's body. He started talking, but she did not take it in. Her tears were now falling more than she had ever remembered them having done, with the exception of her grandmother's funeral. It hurt. It hurt so much.

Harry squeezed her hand and Hermione squeezed back. It felt comforting. She put her head on Harry's shoulder. She looked past Harry for a moment and saw Colin. He was not crying, though he did look sombre. Perhaps even anguished. But he was not crying. She could not blame him. He had not known Neville all that well. She also saw other members of the DA sitting on the other side of Colin. Some were crying. Others weren't. She understood. But it still hurt. Then Hermione heard the only words of the man in front of where Neville's lifeless body lay that she would later remember.

"I believe Augusta, Neville's grandmother, has prepared something," the little man said, his voice silky smooth. Strangely, it was exactly the voice that Hermione had expected of someone in his position.

Mrs Longbottom stood up, walked to where the man stood and turned to the crowd. If she had been crying at any point, Hermione could not see it from where she sat. The older witch did certainly look pained and grief-stricken. But her face showed no trace of tears.

"Neville was a good child," Mrs Longbottom began, her voice magically amplified, her grief carrying across all those present. "He was given a bad start to life. His parents remain, to this day, at St Mungo's Hospital. They have no idea that their son is gone. And by the same hand that put them in that hospital.

"Neville died needlessly," Mrs Longbottom said, suddenly sounding very angry. "He died because of the follies and stupidity of many people, most of whom are present today. If those people had been smarter, or just stayed away from Neville, he would be alive today.

"Despite this, I am told that Neville died bravely," she said, the anger leaving almost as quick as it had come. Her eyes swept the crowd and landed on Harry, whose shoulder Hermione's head still rested upon. "He died saving a boy he called 'friend'. He died so that this fool of a friend of his could live. And this friend sits among us today as if he has done no wrong. Caused no death. Broken no hearts.

"We are here today, to say goodbye to my grandson, Neville James Longbottom," Mrs Longbottom said. Her eyes were looking piercingly at Harry as she said this. If this was significant, Hermione missed it. After that, her eyes moved away. "May he rest in peace, alongside his ancestors."

With that, Mrs Longbottom and the other man walked a little away from where Neville lay. The two men who had carried Neville in, stood up. All four of them had their wands out now. They pointed their wands at the base of the platform on which Neville lay. As they raised their wands, a marble case began to encase Neville. Slowly. Until he was out of sight and all that was left was the marble tomb.

The three men and Mrs Longbottom lowered their wands and all but Mrs Longbottom put them away. Mrs Longbottom pointed her wand at a small plaque on the tomb. Hermione was too far away to see properly, but she could see words appear on that plaque. It was then that she realised she was no longer crying and that she hadn't been since Mrs Longbottom had begun to talk.

Mrs Longbottom had no right to speak that way about anyone, let alone Harry. Part of her was enraged at what the woman had said. It was not right at all. But her rational side kicked in and she thought about what she had obviously been through. Not only had she lost her son to insanity, but she had lost her grandson as well. It didn't excuse what she said, but it was at least an explanation that made Hermione feel slightly sorry for her.

The little man stood in front of the tomb once again.

"That concludes today's ceremony," he said smoothly. "Augusta would like me to inform you all that those of you that are not Hogwarts students are welcome at her home in half an hour. Thank you."

There were a few moments of silence before murmuring broke out and people began to stand up from their seats. Hermione finally raised her head from Harry's shoulder and saw that Harry was no longer crying, though he looked as sad has Hermione had ever seen him. It broke her heart.

"Harry –" she began, but was cut off.

"I know," he said quickly as they walked a little bit away from the chairs. "She's upset and angry. I didn't kill Neville."

"Harry," Hermione said softly, instinctively knowing what Harry was thinking, "you really didn't. She's wrong, Harry. You didn't get Neville killed."

"I know, Hermione," Harry growled under his breath. "You said that earlier."

"She's right, Harry," Colin said quietly, having just joined them,

"You weren't there!" Harry said angrily. Colin looked a little taken aback, but Hermione just favoured Harry with a sympathetic look.

"Neville was there because he wanted to be," she said quietly, Harry glared at her, but she said nothing. "Yes, he was there in a large part because of the DA. Yes, he was there because you inspired him. But that doesn't change the fact that it was his choice. He chose to be at the Ministry and he chose to fight alongside you. You know as well as I do that you would have done the same thing for him, wouldn't you?"

Harry was silent as Hermione felt the tears coming again, but forced herself to keep calm.

"Wouldn't you?" she repeated fiercely. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I would have," he conceded.

"And if someone blamed Neville for what happened to you if you did that, would you think that right?" Hermione asked, finding it harder to stop the tears. "Would you want Neville to believe that?"

"Well, no, but –" Harry said but Hermione cut him off.

"No, there are no 'buts' here, Harry," she said quietly. "If Neville was in your position, you wouldn't want him to be beating himself up about it. So don't do it to yourself." Harry smiled weakly.

"Why do I ever not listen to you?" Harry asked with a small chuckle.

"Because you're a boy," Hermione said simply. Harry smiled a little more before turning to Colin.

"I'm sorry, I was out of line," he said quietly and Colin shook his head.

"It's okay," he said in his small, high-pitched voice. "I shouldn't have gotten involved. I was stupid."

"No you weren't," Harry said with a smile. "I probably need to listen to you more as well. You and Hermione make a great team." Hermione was slightly taken aback to hear Harry say that after what he had used to say about Colin. Before anyone could say anything else, Professor McGonagall showed up.

"We will be returning to Hogwarts soon," she told the three of them curtly, her eyes rather red and puffy. It was something that Hermione had, for some reason, not been expecting. She had always seen Professor McGonagall as unshakeable. Like nothing could ever faze her. But she was obviously hurt by what happened to Neville. "If you wish to say goodbye to anyone, you should probably do so now. In fact, do you mind telling Mr and Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood that we are leaving soon? I have to speak with Professor Dumbledore."

"Of course, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said immediately, mostly on instinct. The older witch nodded and moved off towards another group of students. "Well I suppose, we'd better go and tell them, then."

"I'll … uh, I'll stay here," Colin murmured, his eyes looking towards the where the Weasleys were standing, talking to an older couple Hermione didn't know. She thought this might be the reason. While she couldn't very well say that she was close to Colin, she had to admit that Ron was much worse and had hardly warmed to him at all. She suspected that Ron was jealous.

"No, you can come with us," Hermione said reassuringly. Colin smiled weakly.

"No, come with us," Harry said, his voice a little more enthusiastic. "The Weasleys will be really happy to meet you." Colin still looked apprehensive as he glanced over at the sea of red hair, but he nodded.

As they approached, Mrs Weasley appeared to have seen them first and rushed over, hugging Harry tightly. Hermione couldn't hear what she was saying to him, but she was soon being hugged as well.

"Oh, dear, it's absolutely terrible what happened," she said, releasing her grip. "Are you alright?"

"I think I'll be okay," Hermione said, not quite lying.

"Of course you will, dear," Mrs Weasley said, a sad smile on her face. She remembered being told about Mrs Weasleys' brothers in the last war. For some reason that made her feel a little better. Mrs Weasley looked at Colin.

"And this must be Colin," she said, smiling at Colin who looked shy and even a little concerned. "Ginny's told us a bit about you."

"Has she?" Colin asked, a surprised look on his face.

"Of course I have," Ginny said quickly. Colin smiled. As Harry introduced Colin to Bill, Ron pulled Hermione aside.

"Why'd you bring him over?" he asked accusatorially.

"What does it matter?" Hermione asked quietly, her tone slightly reproachful, though it appeared to have been lost on Ron.

"Why does Harry like him all of a sudden?" Ron asked bitterly.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "But it really doesn't matter. Harry likes him and that's all that matters."

"But Harry hated him for years," Ron insisted. "Why now?"

"Why don't you ask Harry that?" Hermione asked, annoyed. "It's not like I know why."

"You don't think …" Ron paused for a minute. "You don't think it's a love potion, do you?" Hermione was actually shocked.

"Ronald!" she said loudly enough to attract attention. "Don't be so stupid! Of course not! What a ridiculous thing to say."

"It could be true," he insisted.

"Sounds like little Ronnie-kins has said something stupid," said one of the twins who seemed to pop up out of nowhere behind Ron.

"As usual," the other one who spoke from behind her. "What is it this time?"

"I reckon he probably called her something horrible, George," the twin standing behind Ron, who was evidently Fred, said, a wide grin on his face.

"Oh, more than likely," George said, stroking a non-existent beard. "Maybe he insulted her hair!"

Hermione glared at Ron who was looking defiantly at her.

"No," she said quickly. "It was none of that."

"If you say do," Fred said as George leant down and whispered to her, though he was loud enough that Hermione had no doubt that Ron could hear.

"We have ways of getting back at him for you if you want us to," he told her. She shook her head in such a way that her hair hit him. Fred laughed.

"You shoulda seen that one coming, Georgie," he said, laughing, as the twins walked off. Hermione looked again at Ron.

"You need to get Ginny and Luna," she said icily. "We're leaving soon. I'll find Professor McGonagall and let her know that we're ready. Say goodbye to your parents for me, will you?" Ron nodded stiffly and Hermione whirled around and found Professor McGonagall with Professor Dumbledore. She only just caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a Patronus leave them. When she reached them, they were talking.

"We knew he would do it," Dumbledore said quietly, though she heard him. "You will just have to take the students through the Hospital Wing fireplace. I shall let Poppy know."

"Albus, are you sure it was wise to let that happen?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Oh, I am very sure," he said with a knowing smile. His eyes flickered to Hermione. "Ah, Miss Granger. How are you?" Hermione was slightly taken aback. The Headmaster rarely talked to her.

"Well, I'm fine, sir," she said uncertainly.

"And how are you taking Neville's passing?" he asked kindly. Hermione felt a lump in her throat, but his kind toned lessened it somewhat.

"Well, it hurts," Hermione confided. "But I'll get through it."

"I think you will find that the pain will lessen, but never fade," Dumbledore said, his eyes seeming to look off into the distance as he spoke. "But, nevertheless, you were here, I suspect, to speak to Professor McGonagall. I have to go and speak to Barnabus Cuffe, so I will leave you two to speak alone." With that, he left. Hermione turned to Professor McGonagall.

"We should be ready to go soon," she said quickly and Professor McGonagall nodded.

"We will be returning to the school through the Hospital Wing," she said as they walked towards the large group of students. Hermione could see Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny and Colin together.

"Professor," Hermione said tentatively, "what was Professor Dumbledore talking about? What happened at the school?"

"Nothing to worry about," Professor McGonagall assured her. "Just a small issue." Hermione could sense that the older witch was hiding something, but she knew that she wouldn't hide anything unless it was extremely necessary, so Hermione said no more on the topic.