He was never very good at cleaning spells even with a wand that seemed to understand him a little better. But he'd almost got the smell of whiskey and goat out of his clothes. With his shirt sleeves rolled back up to his elbows and his top buttons undone he still felt over dressed for breakfast. It was, however, all he was going to manage. He followed Ron down the Burrows staircase silently counting each of the thoughts that sat in his mind like toothache. He should set them aside until he could actually do something about them but instead he prodded them and felt them explode with white hot pain.
He could smell sausages and beans and mushrooms and his stomach turned again. Ron whether catching his colour change or just happy to talk about something other than the horrible, dark, fetid things that seemed just under the surface was explaining that Mrs Weasley's fry ups could smother the worst hangover. Neville carefully hid his disbelief.
Through the sitting room was a doorway into a room with a large table and a small but busy kitchen. There was hot toast and a pot of baked beans already on the table but fry pans on the cook top were madly frying bacon and sausages and tomatoes whilst Mrs Weasley directed jugs of pumpkin juice and milk towards the table with a flick of her wand. There was a beautiful chaos to it all.
Mr Weasley felt around for his tea from behind the Prophet as Ron piled his plate with toast and beans. "Neville dear, Ginny said that you'd stayed the night do take a seat and eat, eat," Mrs Weasley ordered before disappearing round another doorway with a basket of clothes levitating behind her.
"Good Morning Mr Weasley."
"Neville, good to see you," he replied dropping the middle of his paper into his jam toast. "How's your Grandmother?"
"Gran's well."
"'Course she is. Formidable woman Augusta, formidable." Neville grinned despite himself; something in Mr Weasley's tone told him he'd been on the receiving end of one of Gran's reprimands. He took a seat beside Mr Weasley as Ginny arrived followed by Luna who had reorganised her layers of clothes in such a way as to appear she was wearing completely new clothes. Or perhaps, he thought as he took in her purple trainers she had transfigured them, she always had a talent for transfiguration.
"Errol is such a sweet owl," Luna was saying as she glided into a free chair opposite.
"If by sweet you mean utterly dumb," Ginny responded catching Neville's eye and giving a quick shake of her head to indicate nothing worrying had happened since he'd left them.
"Oh I don't think he is dumb I think he just prefers not to be distracted by the mundane world."
"Like windows?" Ginny asked dodging a plate of sautéed mushrooms with the practiced skill of a chaser. She poured herself some pumpkin juice and took a seat. Her hair now in a sleek pony tail flicked across her shoulder as she nudged her brother, "Morning you."
"Morning," Ron said through a mouthful of beans.
Neville watched as Luna cut a slice of toast into six perfect triangles before buttering each one individually.
Mr Weasley had returned to the Daily Prophet though the lead story's image now seemed to be trying to wipe jam from their clothes.
"There are usually more of us," Ron said in a low voice. "Everyone came home after, well you know, but Mum was a little obsessed with keeping us all safe. George had the worst of it and after about a month of the cotton wool and the bursting into tears whenever she saw him he said he was moving back to the flat with Lee. Everyone kinda went back to their own places after that. Percy stayed a bit longer but now it's just me and Ginny."
"Till school goes back anyway." Ginny took a bite of toast, "Eat something Neville," she said reminding him of her mother.
"Seriously it's the best thing for it mate." Ron said piling some bacon and toast on to the plate in front of him. He had little appetite and less now that he'd heard tell of how the loss of Fred had affected everyone. He picked up the fork to at least attempt some of the food supplied when he felt something graze his fingertips. Luna was rearranging her triangles of toast into little patterns on her plate but she has stretched her hand across the table to meet his and softly stroked his fingers. He wondered if she was even aware she was doing it.
From the bustle and noise in the room off the kitchen Mrs Weasley called "Arthur, Arthur, the time! You'll be late to work."
Neville took a mouthful of bacon and valiantly tried to chew and swallow, whilst the Weasley's performed the rituals of family goodbyes in which kisses must be given, hats must be found and promises not to be late to dinner must be extracted. These things still went on in this safe part of the world no matter the losses, no matter the pain that shared the same space.
He wished there was a polite and acceptable way of thanking the Weasley's. Not just for a place to sleep and a mass of food but for Ginny, bright, vibrant Ginny who had been the DA's backbone, it's momentum and his sounding board, for putting an end to Bellatrix Lestrange and all the horrors she was capable of inflicting, for putting every single one of their children in danger on that last terrible night and for dealing with what happened without losing sight of the good and kind people they were. You couldn't say any of it. Its rawness made it impolitic, impolite and improper. So he kept silent hoping that the gratefulness poured off him and they would know.
Whilst the Weasley's world hurried around him Luna tilted her head and smiled vaguely at him. Whatever sleep she had got in his arms that night had done her good. He could see it now that he was paying attention just how tired she'd looked before. Surrounded by exhausted survivors and mourners he'd forgotten that people didn't normally look like dried leaves, dull and ashy.
Summer sunlight bled through the mottled kitchen windows but Neville knew night would come again and with it whatever terrors Luna found there. He would need to ask even if the possible answers horrified him. He couldn't let her struggle on alone.