Chapter 18 - Happy

After the incident with Michael Corner, the DA worked harder than ever in practice, but outside of the Room of Requirement, they'd mostly become quiet. There were fewer injuries than ever. It would have been a nice change of pace, if not for the reasons.

Michael was little more than a shell; Neville didn't think he'd lost his mind, but he'd lost himself, at least for awhile. Ginny kept a brave facade on the outside, but it was obvious to Neville that she was barely keeping it together. No one even brought up Luna anymore. She was just another casualty.

Watching Seamus might have been the worst part, though. He hadn't been close to Michael, but he had apparently been the closest to the edge of any of them, since he'd never felt like he had reason to hope, and the incident with Michael had pushed Seamus over that edge. Seamus didn't react to anything anymore—didn't smile, didn't frown, never grew angry or afraid. Nothing said in Muggle Studies class could get a rise out of him, however Carrow tried—and she was clearly trying hard. Neville tried everything from asking his opinion on DA lesson plans, to making jokes, to talking about their detentions, to bringing up Harry again. Seamus didn't even try to deny that Harry would come. He replied quietly in monosyllable. There was nothing left of him.

Today had been a rough day at DA practice. Between smuggled ingredients picked up at Hogsmeade visits and trips to steal from Snape's stores—he'd gotten better at that, he hadn't been caught in awhile—Neville had managed to scrape up enough materials for everyone to make an attempt at Felix Felicis, but so far, none of them had come close.

Liquid luck was notoriously difficult to brew, and the side effects of taking too much of it were ominous, but Neville figured it was worth a try. They were all spending more and more time in the Room of Requirement. Neville didn't mind their practice room becoming a safe space for those who were afraid and a hospital for those whose fears had come to pass, but he also wanted to keep it as a productive work space. He worked around the clock looking for new lessons to teach, and he was running out of steam on defensive spells. He was abysmal with potions, so Ginny was doing most of the teaching.

None of them had dared to ask Slughorn for help. According to those who were taking his class, he had lost a lot of his nerve over the past few months. Neville couldn't blame him, especially after the display with Michael Corner. He didn't envy any of the professors at Hogwarts; he had no idea what they were going through when the students weren't around.

Neville was looking over Lavender's cauldron when Ernie Macmillan entered the Room of Requirement. He walked slowly, holding a copy of the Quibbler in his hands.

By the look on his face, Neville worried for a moment that Luna had been found dead. But Ernie's actions said otherwise. He didn't go to Neville or Ginny; he went straight over to Seamus.

Neville watched Seamus's face carefully from across the room. Ernie spoke quietly, so Neville couldn't hear anything he was saying. Seamus looked up at him, his expression as blank as ever, and they exchanged a few words.

Then Seamus's eyes clouded over, and rage filled his whole being, the likes of which Neville had never seen in him. He threw down the ingredients in his hand, took his wand out, and stormed toward the door of the Room of Requirement.

Neville raced to follow him. "I know that look. What happened?"

"My parents. The Death Eaters took my parents. The Carrows were laughing . . ."

Condolences would have to wait. "Where are you going?"

"To kill them."

"Seamus, you can't just go attack them. They'll kill you."

"I don't care!"

"But you can't—"

Seamus whirled to face Neville, pointing his wand. "STUPEFY."

Neville only just dodged the curse—Seamus had made it easy by forgetting everything he'd been taught about how to use the spell properly. Neville pulled out his wand, and they faced each other. "Seamus, please don't make me—"

"Expelliarmus!" That was Ginny. Seamus's wand flew from his hand, and he stumbled backward.

"You're not going to stop me," Seamus spat, and ran for the exit again.

Neville didn't bother with his wand this time. He raced forward and grabbed Seamus by the arm.

Seamus's fist shot out and connected with Neville's jaw.

The pain was barely even a distraction, after everything they'd faced from the Carrows, but the surprise stunned him for a moment. Long enough that Seamus would have gotten away.

Neville was lucky he'd trained the DA so well. Three other students flooded in and grabbed Seamus by the arms, pinning him.

Seamus put up a fight, but it didn't last. He stumbled on the first attempted punch and ended up on his knees. The three students grabbed his arms and held him down; one said, "I don't want to jinx you."

"Let me go!"

"No." Neville walked over in front of Seamus. "We're not letting you get hurt. We can talk about ways to help your parents, but you're not racing in and confronting Death Eaters."

"Let me—let me—" Seamus's head dropped, and he burst into sobs. He gave one last attempt to pull his arms away, and his protectors pushed him down a little harder. He dropped to the floor, facedown, his shoulders shaking violently.

As horrible as it was, Neville knew this was a critical moment. For however short a time, Seamus was back. He could feel again. He could care. And Neville had to make use of that.

Neville nodded to Seamus's protectors. They let go of his arms, and Neville knelt down beside his friend. He put a hand on Seamus's back, pressing hard enough to be a warning—that he wasn't going to let Seamus run off and get himself killed—but gently enough that he hoped, he desperately hoped, it could still be a comfort.

"They're gonna kill my parents," Seamus cried into the floor.

"No, no." Neville's hand moved up and down between Seamus's shoulder blades. "They're survivors."

"First Luna, now—"

"Luna's not dead."

"She's dead, mate. They're all dead."

Neville felt tears sting his own eyes, but that wasn't what Seamus needed from him. Not right now. "Hey, hey. Remember first year? Remember Professor Quirrell, and how Voldemort tried to use him to steal the sorcerer's stone, and how Harry stopped him?"

Seamus just kept crying.

Neville rubbed his back a little harder. "Remember second year? The chamber of secrets? They were going to have to shut down the school, but—"

"Remember Cedric?"

Neville's heart sank.

"Harry's our age, Neville. He's the luckiest kid I've ever known, but he can't save everyone."

Seamus started to push himself up. Reflexively, Neville responded by increasing the pressure on his back, but when Seamus persisted, slowly, Neville let Seamus sit up, though keeping a grip on his arm.

Seamus wiped his tears away. "Remember that first boat ride into Hogwarts?"

Neville closed his eyes and remembered. He could almost feel the chilliness of the evening, the fresh smell of autumn in the air. It was his first glimpse of the Hogwarts castle, live and in person. It had been beautiful.

Ginny came to sit down beside them. "Remember our first DA meeting? We were all terrible . . ."

Neville smiled. "Remember our first transfiguration lesson? I was terrified of McGonagall back then . . ."

"You were terrified of all the teachers." Seamus sniffed, rubbing his face. "Remember when detention meant cleaning cauldrons and writing lines?"

"Remember when the biggest thing we worried about was our exams?" Ginny said.

Seamus's eyes pierced Neville's. "Remember when we were happy?"

Neville let go of Seamus's arm, shifting his hand to rub his back instead. "We're going to be happy again, Seamus. I promise."

Seamus's head dropped, and tears streamed down his cheeks again. Neville put an arm around his shoulders, and Ginny draped her arm across his back, and they rested.