'Confringo!' Harry cast, pointing his wand at a group of Death Eaters retreating into one of the alleyways. How dare those bastards run away now? Did they think they could get away with murdering innocent students and make away alive? Harry would make sure that they did not.
The Blasting Curse ricocheted off one wall of the alley and exploded directly over the three Death Eaters' heads. Red mist flew everywhere. By the time it cleared, three bodies were lying on the ground, missing most of their heads.
Harry had no time to retch at the horrible sight. The Death Eaters were scattering, but the few that were left were still fighting. A green jet of light flew in Hermione's direction. Harry grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the way.
'We should rendezvous with the others,' she said, her face red with exertion. 'Clean up the stragglers.'
Harry nodded and the two of them made their way out of the alley and onto the High Street. They crept slowly along the buildings lining the sidewalks, keeping their heads down and watching out for any movement.
Hermione gave a yelp behind him. Harry wheeled around, his wand at the ready. Two Death Eaters had appeared out of one of the alleys and spotted them.
'Sectumsempra!' Hermione shouted, waving her wand wildly in their direction. Multiple gashes appeared on their torso, abdomen, and legs. Both men gave shouts of pain before collapsing to the ground, bleeding out.
'Go on,' Hermione breathed. 'And be careful.'
Harry crept onwards up the High Street, past bodies of Death Eaters and Hogwarts students both. He comforted himself in the knowledge that there were far more bodies and body parts of Death Eaters than there were of students. At least it had not been a total massacre.
Through the soot and dust, Harry saw two people begin to emerge. One seemed to be leaning on the other, and both were staggering a little.
'Harry, Hermione, is that you?' Neville called.
'Neville!' Hermione squealed happily. 'Are you okay? Is the town clear?'
'I'm fine,' Neville replied as he approached. Daphne was leaning on him, an arm around his shoulders and walking shakily. 'Daph isn't really, though. She got hit by a Cruciatus from Dolohov. We've taken out everyone, I think. Sirius Black, Professor Lupin, and three women that I don't know are clearing up.'
Harry let out a breath of relief as Hermione grasped his hand and squeezed tightly. Sirius and Remus were both safe, and it seemed like Tonks was fine, too.
'How was it for you?' Hermione asked concernedly.
A dark look came across Neville's face. 'We faced Bellatrix Lestrange.'
Hermione gasped and paled. Harry drew her into a protective embrace from behind. 'You fought Bellatrix?'
Daphne nodded. 'And Rodolphus, and Rabastan, and Dolohov.'
'All at once?'
'All at once. Neville was incredible.'
Neville shrugged shyly, blushing. 'Rodolphus was already a squib, and Dolohov was distracted. And Daph killed Rabastan.'
'That was just luck,' Daphne said with a small smile. 'Nev saved me more times than I could count.'
'We saved each other,' Neville muttered.
'Nonsense. Besides, you taunted Bellatrix,' Daphne said with a whistle. 'That takes guts.'
'What happened to Bellatrix?' Hermione asked, curious.
'She's Stunned and bound,' Neville replied. 'Her sisters, I think, got her.'
'Andromeda and Narcissa?'
Daphne's eyes widened. 'Narcissa? Narcissa, as in…'
'Draco No-Name's mother,' Harry said with a nod. 'And Andromeda's her older sister. Both are Sirius's cousins.'
'Oh…I thought her name was just Cissy,' Neville muttered.
'That's her nickname, I think,' Hermione said with a giggle. 'Where's Sirius?'
'Clearing up, I think,' Neville answered. 'He also said something about calling Madam Bones and St Mungo's. Where's Ginny and Luna and Susan?'
Harry and Hermione exchanged a nervous look. 'We don't know,' Hermione answered nervously, running a hand through her hair. 'Last we saw them, they were getting the students on carriages.'
Neville chewed his lip. 'They should be okay, right?' he said to himself. 'They're tough.'
Daphne tried to squeeze him with the arm that she had wrapped around his shoulders. 'I'm sure they'll be fine,' she said with a tenderness in her voice that Harry had never heard from her before. 'They can take care of themselves.'
They stood in silence for several nervous minutes. Harry continued holding Hermione tightly, trying to comfort her and himself. Finally, through the settling dust, Sirius approached, limping a little. He was followed by Remus and Tonks. Behind them all were Andromeda and Narcissa, carrying the bound and unconscious form of Bellatrix between them.
'Harry, Hermione!' Sirius bellowed in glee. He ran up and engulfed each of them in a bear hug. 'You're safe!'
'As are you,' Hermione muttered weakly into his chest. Sirius released her after half a minute and rushed off, saying something about needing to 'meet the Aurors'.
'Moony, Tonks,' Harry muttered, grateful that they were mostly unscathed. Both embraced him and Hermione in turn.
When Tonks released him, Harry saw Andromeda set down Bellatrix's body on the sidewalk, propping her up against the wall of Zonko's. Andromeda reached into her robes, withdrew a wand, and handed it to Neville.
'This was Bellatrix's,' she said. 'You should have it.'
Neville accepted the wand and looked at it with an expression of disgust on his face. Harry understood. It was the same wand that had tortured his parents to insanity. Harry had held Voldemort's wand himself once in the old timeline, and he had felt unclean and disgusted beyond what words could describe.
Neville turned back to Andromeda. 'Have you searched her, Miss…uh…'
'Just Andromeda is fine,' she said with a smile. 'And yes, Cissy and I've searched her. We've stripped her of everything magical.'
'Can you…can you revive her?'
'Are you certain?' Andromeda asked, looking concerned.
Neville nodded. 'I need this. Please?'
Narcissa drew her wand from within her robes and pointed it at her eldest sister. 'Rennervate,' she muttered.
Bellatrix's heavy eyelids shot open and she glared at Neville. 'Longbottom!' she shrieked. 'What have you done to me? You will pay for this, blood-traitor! When the Dark Lord – '
With a wave of his wand, Neville silenced her. 'Your precious half-blood Dark Lord won't be hearing of this, Bellatrix,' he said emotionlessly. He held up Bellatrix's wand. 'Recognize this?'
Bellatrix's face twisted into an expression of hatred. Her lips began moving rapidly, saying words that Harry could not hear over Neville's Silencing Charm.
Neville gripped an end of the wand with either hand. In one single, fluid motion, he brought it down over his knee. There was a loud crack, and the wand broke in half. The Death Eater's face contorted into a look of abject horror as her wand was snapped right in front of her eyes.
Neville stowed the broken halves of his wand in his robes before turning to Andromeda. 'An-Andromeda?'
'Yes?'
'I know she's your sister, but she…you know what she did…'
'I haven't considered her my sister since she cast me out of the family and threatened to murder my husband,' Andromeda replied venomously. 'I can only see her as my enemy.'
Narcissa nodded jerkily, turning away. 'I cannot call her my sister anymore,' she muttered. 'It…it will pain me, but I made my choice when she turned her wand on Andie.'
Neville looked at Harry and Hermione in turn. 'Am I…am I really right to do this?'
'That's up for you to decide,' Hermione said gently. 'I'm not Dumbledore. I won't impose what I think is right or wrong on you, Neville.'
Harry nodded, pulling Hermione a little tighter to him. 'Whatever you decide, we'll support you.'
Daphne drew Neville into a hug. The boy blushed vividly but looked quite glad as he returned the embrace. He nodded once and withdrew, kneeling down in front of Bellatrix. Narcissa turned away from the scene, and Andromeda, perhaps sensing her sister's anguish, led her away and into a nearby building.
Neville unsilenced Bellatrix. 'Well, Bellatrix. It looks like the House of Longbottom will be getting its vengeance after all. Any last words?'
'My death means nothing!' Bellatrix declared. 'When the Dark Lord rules over all, as he is destined to, I will be honoured as a martyr!'
'How foolish, Bellatrix,' Neville said softly. Harry could not help but feel a sort of cold, dangerous power radiate from him. 'As long as I live, Tom Riddle will never rule over so much as a tract of mud.'
Neville raised his wand and pointed it at Bellatrix's throat. 'Sectumsempra,' he whispered, slowly and deliberately drawing a line across her neck. The skin and flesh split open and blood began to pour out of the wound in waves. Bellatrix's face lost colour rapidly as she bled out. She made a final, pained, gurgling sound before her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell over, dead.
The Dark Lord apparated into a side room of the Ministry. An Imperiused Ministry worker had removed the apparition-preventing wards on this room, a room inconspicuous enough that no Ministry maintenance worker would bother to check for tampering. He scoffed at their stupidity. They remembered the grand gestures but always forgot the little details.
The Dark Lord cast a powerful Disillusionment Charm on himself, opened the door, and stepped confidently into the complex. His main force was in Hogsmeade, causing terror against the Hogwarts students and keeping Dumbledore's hands tied, while the dementors were currently terrorizing Liverpool, tying down the Ministry's resources and preventing a response.
But something was not right. The Ministry was too empty, even for a Sunday morning. Perhaps the Ministry had expended more manpower than he had anticipated responding to the twin attacks, he thought. There was nothing to be worried about. Even if he still felt weak from that ritual gone awry – he had been foolish to trust Wormtail with such a task – he was still the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen.
The Dark Lord got into an empty lift and rode it down to Level One. He got out and turned left. At the end of the nondescript corridor stood the doorway he was after. Just another few minutes and he would have the Prophecy in his hands.
He cast a silent Unlocking Charm on the door and pushed it open. The Department was empty. He pictured the Hall of Prophecies in his head, and the doors around him whirled around, revealing one glowing door directly in front of him.
The Dark Lord walked confidently towards the door. He did not even notice that his Disillusionment Charm had somehow been lifted.
He pushed open the door and strode inside. All was quiet. He passed several rows of Prophecies, searching for the one shelf that Rookwood had told him about.
And suddenly, the ground around him exploded. Brilliant spell fire came from all directions. The Unspeakables! The Dark Lord had not factored them into his calculations of the Ministry's manpower, and they must have seen fit to guard more jealously the Hall of Prophecies given the recent leaks in the Daily Prophet.
The Dark Lord drew his wand and cast several Killing Curses along one of the corridors. He could not see whether or not they had found their mark, for blinding light continued to shoot at him from all directions. He managed to block or dodge most of it, but conjuring solid objects as shields was taking a lot of his energy. He could not fight for long against such a numerically superior force. He needed to retreat. His life was more important. The confrontation in the graveyard proved that.
He ran as fast as he could out of the Hall of Prophecies, shooting Blasting Curses behind him as he went, slowing down the enemy. The moment he returned to the Hall of Doorways, he reapplied the Disillusionment Charm and pictured the way out in his head. The doors spun around again and it appeared in front of him.
The Dark Lord charged into a lift and jabbed the button to Level Four. The lift shot away. The moment the doors opened, he sprinted back towards the room that he had arrived in, threw open the door, and disapparated.
'How many dead?' Hermione demanded when Sirius and Amelia finally returned to the Three Broomsticks. Sirius had sent her and Harry there when the Aurors and Healers arrived to survey the scene. It was now nearing four in the afternoon. On the table was a lunch that the two barely touched.
Hermione looked a mess – not that Harry did not think he looked the same. Her hair was wild and completely tangled, her clothes were torn in places, and her face bore a sickly shade of bone-white that Harry had not seen since the days they had spent in hiding in the future of the 'old timeline'.
Sirius and Amelia slid into the round booth opposite the two teens. Neither said anything. Madam Rosmerta came over with two glasses of Firewhiskey, which both adults downed in one gulp.
'Sixteen students killed,' Amelia said darkly after setting down her glass. 'Three wounded and transferred to St Mungo's. One is in unknown condition. The other two should survive. One Auror dead, another wounded but should survive. Two others are also dead, but we haven't identified them yet.'
'And the Death Eaters?'
'Thirty-nine killed, and that's not counting the ones that we only found pieces of. Four captured alive.'
Harry and Hermione both shuddered. Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her close, squeezing her in comfort. The adults gave them a few minutes to process the news.
'How many of the Azkaban escapees?' Harry asked.
'Bellatrix Black, the Lestrange brothers, Dolohov, and Mulciber dead,' Amelia replied. 'The others were either foreign mercenaries or sympathizers. From either Africa or continental Europe, judging by the items they had on their person.'
'At least they won't ever be able to kill again,' Harry muttered. Those words did not quite quash the feeling that now washed over him, knowing that he had been responsible for a major portion of the deaths, many of which were terrible, painful, and grisly.
'Yes,' Amelia said gently. 'Your – and I say that collectively – actions might have just saved scores of innocent lives from being lost or shattered, and cost Voldemort his best lieutenant.'
Harry shrugged. Really, he just wanted to get out of here, away from all the death and destruction.
'What does Dumbledore have to say about all this?' Hermione asked.
'The same old tripe,' Amelia spat. 'How it was unfortunate that the Death Eaters were killed, the same "redemption" and "forgiveness" dragonshite. Made the whole attack out to be some kind of unfortunate accident. When I reminded him that he was the one who refused to cancel the Hogsmeade trip in the face of evidence that this kind of thing would happen, he responded with some vagaries about how he could not act on every piece of information that he is given.'
'Then the sixteen deaths are all on Dumbledore's head,' Harry growled.
'They are indeed,' Amelia said. 'This simply adds to the mountain of crimes we already suspect Dumbledore of. We could arrest him today, but…the Wizengamot might not vote to convict, given his…reputation.'
Harry groaned and cupped his face with his hands. Had Dumbledore really been this…evil…in the 'old timeline'? Had he really descended to the depths that he was descending to now? Or did Harry simply not see it, blinded by loyalty to and faith in the old man?
'You might be pleased to know that the dementor attack in Liverpool was routed with only one muggle injured – as a result of hypothermia, not the Kiss,' Amelia said, trying to shift the subject. 'The Aurors and Hit-Wizards dispatched were able to act decisively thanks to yours and Severus Snape's warning.'
Harry nodded and grunted noncommittally.
'Harry, Hermione, I understand that all you want to do right now is return to the castle and come to terms with what happened on your own, but I, and the Ministry, need information,' Amelia said carefully. 'Could you possibly provide your memories of the event? I promise that you will be escorted back to the castle immediately after.'
Harry and Hermione complied and pulled out a long strand memory – covering the entire battle – from their temples. They dropped it into two vials. Amelia reached with her wand tip into the vial after a minute and removed the memories, placing them back in Harry's and Hermione's heads. Harry saw that there was now a silvery copy of his memory in the vial.
'This is a temporary copy,' Amelia explained. 'It will destroy itself twenty-four hours from now. I understand you've been through a lot today, but permanently removing the memory will do you no good. You need to come to terms with it all on your own accord. Magic cannot replace that.'
Harry nodded in understanding. 'Can we go?'
'Go on.'
Sirius escorted Harry and Hermione back to the castle. Harry never once let go of Hermione the entire way back. Even though none of them spoke once, her touch was enough to give Harry a semblance of calm and warmth.
As they walked through the corridors upstairs to the seventh floor, Harry was subconsciously aware that students were gawking at them. No doubt they were inventing yet another nickname for him, he thought. But he wanted nothing to do with it right now. The moment they reached the Room of Requirement, the two of them collapsed onto the bed and burrowed under the sheets. Emotionally and physically exhausted, they held tightly to each other as they drifted off to an early sleep.
Ginny had lost track of how long it had been since she last sat down. It must have been in the carriage ride into Hogsmeade. She had been running circles in the Hospital Wing with Luna and Susan since the minute they returned to the castle. She was not anything close to a Healer, but Harry and Hermione had taught her useful, easy healing spells that she had been using to patch up scrapes and minor cuts, leaving Madam Pomfrey to deal with the more difficult injuries.
'Your actions saved perhaps over a hundred lives, Miss Weasley,' McGonagall was saying. Ginny did not really take in much, being to mentally and physically worn out to process anything more than simple commands of 'find me this potion' or 'pass the Skele-Gro'.
'Students still died, and way too many,' Ginny said annoyedly, running to fetch yet another potion, not caring that she was being blatantly disrespectful towards her Head of House. 'If Dumbledore had just taken his head out of his arse…'
McGonagall scowled. 'Believe me, Miss Weasley. The blame for the deaths that occurred falls on no one's head but the Headmaster's and the Death Eaters'. It does not change the fact that your actions were heroic, Miss Weasley. You should be awarded an Order of Merlin for them.'
'I was just herding people back to the school,' Ginny replied, handing the potion to Madam Pomfrey. 'Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Daphne did most of the fighting. And the Aurors, of course.'
'I'm not saying they are not heroes, Miss Weasley, but so were you. Without your actions, there would have been mass panic and many more deaths and injuries,' McGonagall said as she turned to help a badly burned girl. 'All I wanted to say that I am proud of the courage that you displayed today.'
'Thank you, Professor,' Ginny said unenthusiastically. She lifted her wand and healed what looked to be a third-year girl sporting cuts on her legs and arms before moving on. Students with minor injuries were sat in chairs near the entrance to the Hospital Wing, while students with more serious injuries – thankfully, there were few – were sequestered behind blinds on the other side of the room.
'Miss Weasley, you need to rest,' Madam Pomfrey said suddenly. 'You've been working at this for more than three hours.'
More than three hours? Ginny thought. It all felt like a blur to her. Her return to the castle from Hogsmeade had seemed like mere minutes ago. Now that Madam Pomfrey pointed out the time, though, she immediately felt the fatigue in her body that she had simply not noticed or ignored before.
Ginny gritted her teeth. 'I can keep going. There're still kids with small injuries that need healing.'
'And they can be helped by others, Miss Weasley,' Madam Pomfrey said sternly. 'Several seventh-years have volunteered in the time that you'd been working. Have you not noticed?'
Ginny shook her head. 'No, I haven't, but still. There's no reason for me not to continue.'
'Yes, there is,' the matron snapped. 'Your magic is getting exhausted, not just from the healing, but with all the casting that you did earlier today. It'll be worse for everyone if you end up fainting. I don't have enough beds to treat you if that happens. You need to go eat dinner right now, head up to your Dormitory, and sleep. Don't argue with me.'
Ginny scowled but obeyed. She stowed her wand back in her pocket and picked up her bag.
'Take Miss Lovegood and Miss Bones with you,' Madam Pomfrey ordered.
Two similar arguments later, Luna and Susan also stepped back from their work and left the Hospital Wing with Ginny. They went down to the Great Hall and sat down together – House Tables be damned – and Ginny wolfed down her dinner in a manner that would more so be associated with Ron.
Following Madam Pomfrey's prescription, Ginny returned to Gryffindor tower immediately after dinner. The moment she laid down on her bed and closed her eyes, she felt all the fatigue of the day wash over her, and she was asleep before she could even pull the covers fully over herself.
It was nearing nine, and Neville was still in the hospital wing despite Madam Pomfrey's repeated attempts to kick him out. Something he could not explain glued him to the chair next to Daphne's bed. She was asleep right now. The matron had given her a Sleeping Draught, explaining that she needed energy to recover after being held under a powerful Cruciatus Curse. Neville could not even begin to imagine what it felt like. He could not imagine what his mother and father had felt when that bitch had used that horrible curse on them.
But they were avenged now. Crouch no longer had a soul. Rodolphus was dead by his hand. Daphne had killed Rabastan, and he had executed Bellatrix after snapping her wand. He had sent the broken halves of Bellatrix's wand to Gran. It was proof that the crimes committed against the House of Longbottom had been avenged. He had, in his eyes, finally done his father proud.
Neville knew that he needed not be worried for Daphne, but that did not stop him from staying by her side. Perhaps it was guilt that he had gotten her in mortal danger? It was possible. But somehow, he felt that if it had been anyone else in her place, he would have left by the third time that Madam Pomfrey insisted that he clear out for the night.
And of course, there was that moment during the battle, when Neville had had a flash of feelings for her that definitely went beyond friendship. Neville knew that Daphne was very pretty, of course, but to admire her looks in the middle of a battle? That was odd, and definitely not something that he would have done with Luna.
There was movement on the bed. Daphne was stirring, waking. Her eyelids opened slowly and she began sitting up. Neville pushed her firmly back down on the bed.
'Madam Pomfrey told you to lie down,' he reminded her.
'My memory isn't that bad,' Daphne said with a small smile. The moonlight reflecting off her face gave her an almost silvery, angelic appearance. 'Why're you still here, Nev? It must be, what, past your bedtime already?'
Neville furrowed his brows. 'When did you start calling me "Nev"?'
'When did you start calling me "Daph"?' she asked right back.
Neville felt his face begin to burn. He thanked all the powers that be that it was dark in the Hospital Wing. He shrugged. 'Must've just…slipped out…and gone along with it. I don't hear you complaining.'
'I'm just entertaining your juvenile mind,' Daphne said with a chuckle.
'Uh-huh.'
'So, back to the original question. Why're you still here?'
Neville shrugged. Why was he still here? He did not know if he could answer that question himself.
'I just…felt like I should be…somehow. Do you not want me here?'
Daphne took his hand and squeezed lightly. Neville resisted an urge to jump. 'No. I'm glad you're here. I've never had visitors before when I got sick…or got hexed.'
'You h-haven't?'
'No, I haven't,' Daphne repeated. 'I've never had any friends in my own House, you know. Between the blood supremacists and the power-hungry arseholes who'd stab you in the back for a higher grade, Slytherin's not a very fun place to be.'
'I can't imagine sharing a room with Parkinson,' Neville muttered, chuckling a little.
'Don't,' Daphne said, smirking. 'It's awful. She farts like a cow and snores like a pig. Just so you know, the Slytherin Dormitories don't have windows.'
Neville felt a sudden urge to retch. 'Are you serious?'
'I wish I wasn't.'
'The Gryffindor boys' Dormitory isn't much better,' Neville said. 'We share a room with Ron Weasley, remember.'
'Oh, Merlin,' Daphne choked, wrinkling her nose.
'That's right,' Neville chortled. 'Have you ever seen the way he eats? He produces gas like a…I don't even want to think about it. And he has a nasty habit of not drawing the curtains around his bed when he…when he…'
'Polishes his wand?' Daphne asked, laughing a little.
Neville blushed. 'Yeah, that sounds about right.'
'You share a room with Harry, though.'
Neville nodded. 'Yeah, but you know how he is. He barely spends time in the Common Room. He just comes up to sleep so that people don't start thinking he's dead – that's a fairly easy assumption to make where Harry's concerned. And even then, it's not every night.'
'Sometimes I wish I was Sorted differently,' Daphne admitted quietly. 'Anywhere but Slytherin. I was briefly considered for Ravenclaw, you know, but the Hat put me in Slytherin because "that's where my entire family went".'
'That's not exactly fair,' Neville said with a frown.
Daphne shrugged. 'It is what it is. And besides, I don't regret where things have gone.'
Neville noticed that he was subconsciously stroking the back of Daphne's hand with his thumb. The realization made him feel rather self-conscious, but he did not stop.
'I don't regret it, either,' Neville murmured, speaking the truth.
They sat for minutes in surprisingly comfortable silence. Neville continued stroking her hand with his thumb, and she did not seem to mind.
'Nev?' she said suddenly.
'Daph?'
'What do you want when this is all over?'
'I haven't really thought about it,' Neville answered absently. 'I like Herbology. Maybe I'd come back here? Teach? Maybe I can be an Auror? Maybe I can do research on my own? I don't know.'
'No, Nev. What do you want for yourself?'
'Huh?'
'You know how Harry and Hermione always talk about how they want a family when they finally get the chance?' Neville nodded. 'What do you want, personally?'
'Well, a family sounds nice,' Neville muttered. He could feel the temperature in the room change inexplicably. 'But that'll wait until we're out of here, obviously. And you?'
'That's somewhere on the radar,' Daphne said with a chuckle. 'What? It's a muggle expression,' she said to Neville's confused look. 'You've been hanging around Harry and Hermione long enough to pick these things up.'
'I'm not as quick as you.'
'Nonsense. I've never won a bet against you,' she said, squeezing his hand. 'I will one day, but not yet. Don't sell yourself short, Nev.'
'But yeah,' she continued. 'That's somewhere on the horizon. Maybe have a kid or two, and make sure none of them get sorted into Slytherin.'
'I've never thought about kids seriously,' Neville said.
'Not once when you were with Luna?'
Neville shook his head. 'That wasn't serious. It sort of…fell apart…because neither of us were really interested in each other beyond friends. What about you?'
Daphne nodded. 'I've dreamed about it,' she admitted tenderly. 'But well…I'd never really seriously pictured myself with anyone. The Slytherin boys are all…well…you've seen how Zabini is like on our patrols – and he's on the better side of the lot.'
Neville nodded. And inexplicably, he thought about him and Daphne together, holding their kids. And he was shocked. It was a picture that he liked very much. It felt like a scene straight out of Harry and Hermione's musings of the future, but this one had him in it.
'Hey, Daph?' he said nervously.
'Mmhm?'
Neville took a deep breath and prayed that he was not committing some horrible faux pas. He summoned all of his courage. Now was the time to be a Gryffindor. 'What about me and you?' he blurted out. 'Can you picture that?'
Daphne looked into space for a long moment, forming a picture with her mind's eye.
'Yes,' she breathed finally, smiling. 'And I like what I see.'
'I liked what I saw, too,' Neville replied softly.
Daphne sat up on her bed, and he did not try to stop her this time.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he did not push her back down.
And slowly, nervously, their faces closed the distance between them. Neville could feel her breath on his cheeks.
And their lips met. It was the most wonderful sensation.
A/N: So yes! This is Neville's final pairing. Putting Neville with Daphne came as a complete accident. As I was characterizing Daphne, I inadvertently developed a strong chemistry between her character and Neville's. Far stronger than Neville and Luna in my story. I, unlike a certain writer of a seven-volume YA fantasy series, chose not to ignore this chemistry and instead decided to build on it, which ended in this final scene above.
A few thoughts on the character of Daphne Greengrass. I really like using the character, even though I know that she's essentially an OC. The common fandom characterization of her reflects who I am as a person. As such, I find it really easy to write her, because all I need to do is put myself in the situation and go off of what I would do.
On Daphne's Patronus now: the albatross is a seabird. Dolphin, seabird, sea. There's the connection.
