It was a fitful night for Harry. He had lost count of how many times he had woken up from the nightmares. Even holding Hermione tightly in his arms like a lifeline did not help matters.
At five in the morning, both decided that it was not worthwhile to try and sleep any longer. They got out of bed and downed a large dose of Invigoration Draught each. That gave them a measure of energy, but did not make them look or feel any healthier. Hermione had dark shadows under her eyes that contrasted with her unnaturally pale complexion. Harry was sure that if he looked in the mirror, he would see much the similar picture.
They passed the next two hours in bed, engaged in loving, but dispassionate sex. It almost felt like those days in the future, where they had used sex as an escape from the reality of war and dystopia. It was quite the same now – just a temporary flight from the death and pain of the previous day, a way of giving each other some comfort.
At just before eight, they could no longer stay in bed. As ludicrous as it was given all that had happened, classes were still going on. They shuffled down to the Great Hall to find the space decorated in black. The teachers were dressed to match – all except Dumbledore, that was. He was still dressed in his lurid, odd-coloured robes and eating his breakfast heartily as if all were normal.
A surge of anger and hatred came over Harry. Dumbledore, the man who was most directly responsible for the deaths of sixteen students, seemed to see nothing wrong with his actions at all. He must have begun hyperventilating, for Hermione caressed his back gently, rubbing small circles and calming him.
'I know,' she whispered, 'I know.'
The two of them sat down at one end of the Gryffindor table, as far away from Dumbledore as possible. An owl delivered the Daily Prophet and Harry tore it out of its grasp the moment it landed and unrolled it.
The headline screamed 'Terror in Hogsmeade'. Harry skimmed the article, looking for anyone he knew, any name he recognized. There were none among the students – not that it made him feel any better.
Hermione gasped, pointing at a spot on the paper. 'Look!'
Harry's eyes snapped to where she was pointing to. There, the two 'civilians' that Amelia had said had died were named. Hestia Jones and Sturgis Podmore, it read. The names sounded familiar, but Harry could not pinpoint where or when he had heard them.
'They were members of the Order,' Hermione said in a hushed whisper. 'Remember in the "old timeline"? They came to fetch you from Privet Drive the summer before your fifth year.'
Harry's jaw dropped open. 'It couldn't have been a coincidence that they were there.'
Hermione shook her head. 'No. It couldn't have been. Dumbledore must've ordered them there.'
A horrible thought occurred to Harry. 'Do you think…Dumbledore refused to cancel the Hogsmeade trip because he wanted to…he wanted to use the students as bait? So that the Order could capture a few Death Eaters?'
'I think it's possible. It would explain his negligence,' Hermione hissed. 'That's so…so…evil! Putting children in mortal danger so that he can serve his own ends! And he doesn't even seem to care that two members of the Order and sixteen of his students died yesterday! I want to…argh! I wish I could feed him to Aragog!'
Harry stabbed an egg with undue venom as he processed what Hermione was saying. Yolk splashed everywhere, but for once, Hermione did not complain. She was probably too busy fuming and plotting terrible fates for Dumbledore to care about a few specks of food soiling her robes.
The two of them brooded in silence, picking at their food. Ginny, Luna, and Susan arrived one-by-one a few minutes later. They, much like Harry and Hermione, picked at their food mostly in solemn silence.
'Where's Neville?' Hermione asked a while later.
'I don't know,' Ginny replied. 'I didn't see him at all last night after we returned. He might still be in the Hospital Wing. He had it pretty rough yesterday.'
Harry nodded. 'Should we go see him? And Daphne too. She's still being treated for Cruciatus exposure.'
Hermione nodded. 'We should go after breakfast.'
That was not necessary, though, for the two in question made their appearance five minutes later. Neville looked worse for wear and fatigued, but he had a content and happy look on his face. Daphne, meanwhile, was walking rather jerkily, tripping every so often, but otherwise in good health. She, like Neville, bore a rather glad expression on her face.
Harry saw why. As the two of them made their way to the Gryffindor table, Harry saw that they were holding hands.
'Hello, Neville,' Luna said dreamily. 'It seems like you've followed the Nargles' advice.'
Neville blushed vividly pink. 'Have I?'
Luna nodded matter-of-factly. 'The Nargles are no longer following you. It must be because they're happy with you.'
'Well…uh…that's good, right?'
'It is,' Luna said seriously. 'Nargles attract Wrackspurts if they aren't dealt with quickly enough. Wrackspurts make your brain go fuzzy.'
Neville looked distinctly uncomfortable as he began loading his plate with eggs, sausages, and tomatoes.
'So, are you two an item now?' Ginny asked cheerily.
Neville and Daphne both blushed. 'Uh…yeah…I think,' Neville replied. 'Right?'
'Yes, I consent to being seen in public with you,' Daphne deadpanned to chuckles all around.
'Congratulations,' Ginny chirped. 'That's one piece of good news to come out of yesterday, at least.'
'Did I hear that right?' came a snide voice from behind Harry. He turned around to find, with no surprise, that Ron was standing there, Lavender hanging off of him, both looking particularly airheaded. 'Is Longbottom really going out with the snake?'
Harry opened his mouth to tell him to clear off, but Ginny stopped him. She was glaring daggers at her own brother.
'Ron, Lavender,' she said, her voice colder than ice. 'Did you know that you, pushing and shoving your way through the crowd yesterday, were the cause of three serious injuries? Maybe instead of bullying other people for their choices, you should examine your own.'
Ron sneered at his sister. 'I'm your older brother! Don't tell me what to do!'
'You can't be a role model if you don't act like one,' Ginny replied, her voice getting even colder. 'While we – yes, that includes Neville and his girlfriend that you just called "the snake" – were out there fighting Death Eaters and getting students to safety, you were trampling over younger students to save your pathetic arses. I'm ashamed of you, Ron. I had hoped that Mum's howler after you got your badges taken away would knock some maturity into you, but clearly, I was wrong.'
Ron glared at Ginny, then everyone else in turn, before finally realizing that the fight was lost and stalking off, Lavender still clinging to him and cooing in his ear.
'Did he really do what you said he did?' Harry asked, horrified.
Ginny nodded. 'He was throwing students aside to get to the carriages first, even before the fifth-year was called. I…well…I used the Imperius Curse on him and Lavender. It was the only way I could stop them.'
Harry felt disgusted. 'I can't believe it,' he growled. 'He…what a coward…' He looked at Ginny, who looked pale and nervous. 'You did the right thing, Ginny. If you haven't done what you did, more people would've gotten hurt or even killed.'
Ginny shrugged. 'Doesn't make me like what I had to do.'
'Nothing will ever make you like what you had to do,' Hermione muttered. 'But "not liking it" after is better than getting killed or getting someone else killed during.'
The rest of breakfast passed in silence, each of them contemplating their own thoughts. At the end of the meal, McGonagall came up to them, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout in tow.
'Potter, Longbottom, Granger – all seven of you,' she said. 'Your presence is needed in the Headmaster's study.'
Harry groaned and cupped his face. 'Professor, tell the Headmaster I have no desire to talk to someone with the blood of sixteen children on his hands.'
'You will not be speaking to the Headmaster, I assure you, Harry,' McGonagall replied. Harry registered the use of his given name and looked up. 'For the record, the staff is as disgusted with his actions and attitudes as you are. No, Minister Shacklebolt has requested a word with you. The Headmaster's study is simply being used as a venue.'
'All right,' Harry conceded with a sigh. He rose from the table and Hermione and the others followed. The four Heads of House marched the group towards Dumbledore's study. The gargoyle leapt aside with a shout of 'Sugar Quills', and they climbed the spiral staircase into the study.
Kingsley was already there. Dumbledore, to Harry's disgust, was there, too, sitting behind his desk and looking disappointed. Fawkes was looking mutinously down at his companion. Harry could almost see the distaste in his eyes as he watched Dumbledore. In one corner of the room stood Cho Chang, looking rather confused as to why she was there.
'Good morning, Kingsley,' Harry said weakly. 'How do you do?'
'Harry,' Dumbledore butted in. 'You should address the Minister by his title and – '
'It will be Kingsley,' Kingsley said sharply, cutting Dumbledore off. 'And I think we both know the answer to that question, Harry.'
Harry sighed. 'I do. How are the students at St Mungo's?'
'All three are recovering,' Kingsley replied with a note of relief. 'They, along with the Auror who was injured, should all make it.'
'That's good,' Harry said, trying to sound cheerful. 'What is it that you're here for, Kingsley?'
'First, let me assure you that this was not my decision,' Kingsley said cautiously. 'There was an emergency session of the Wizengamot last night, and it was them who decided to do this.'
'Decided to do what?' Hermione asked tiredly.
'Decided to award all seven of you, plus Miss Chang, Orders of Merlin,' Kingsley finished.
'I really don't care for medals,' Harry replied through gritted teeth. 'I was just trying to save as many students as possible.'
'I completely understand,' Kingsley said gently. 'If it were me, I would have simply left you alone to come to terms with what happened in anonymity. However, the Wizengamot had made their decision, and I, as the Minister, unfortunately must do my prescribed duties.'
Harry sighed. 'I understand, Kingsley.'
'I'll get this over with as quickly as possible,' Kingsley promised. He pulled out a roll of parchment from a pocket of his robes. 'There's a lot of formal drivel here. I hope you don't mind if I broke protocol and skipped it?'
Harry and Hermione shook their heads.
'Orders of Merlin, Second Class, are awarded to Mister Harry Potter, Miss Hermione Granger, Mister Neville Longbottom, and Miss Daphne Greengrass for their selfless actions in taking on the fight against the Death Eaters, without assistance from Aurors or Hogwarts staff, to protect their fellow students,' he recited. 'Orders of Merlin, Third Class, are awarded to Miss Ginevra Weasley, Miss Susan Bones, Miss Luna Lovegood, and Miss Cho Chang for their bravery in ensuring as many students as possible made their way to safety. Congratulations to you all.'
Kingsley waved his wand and eight boxes appeared on a table next to him. Another wave of his wand and the boxes vanished, the medals contained within levitating into the air. With a third wave of his wand, the medals fastened themselves around the necks of their recipients.
He put away the roll of parchment. 'There are financial and other rewards that come along with these awards, but I will skip those for right now. A letter will be sent to each of you that will explain everything. However, I do have to let you all know that you are now magically considered adults. Your Trace is removed. You are permitted to use magic outside of school. You may drop out of school if you so desire – though I do not recommend this, obviously. I also have to warn you that you have the legal responsibilities of an adult in our world.'
There were silent nods around the room. 'That will be all, then,' Kingsley said. 'I thank you for all you have done, and I hope we see each other again in happier times.'
He walked over to the fireplace and threw some Floo Powder into it, calling out the Minister's Office as his destination. Before he stepped through, however, he turned to Dumbledore with a severe look on his face.
'You can be sure that I will not forget about this incident, Dumbledore.'
Dumbledore looked at Kingsley with a disappointed look on his face before Kingsley stepped into the fireplace and vanished with a flash of emerald flames.
Dumbledore turned to Harry. 'Harry, please stay. I would like a word with you.'
'He will not be staying,' McGonagall snapped. 'He, and everyone else here, has been through an ordeal yesterday. An ordeal that you caused, Albus.' She turned to the students. 'As Deputy Headmistress, I excuse you from all your classes and classwork until the end of the week. Use this time you have for yourself as you see fit.'
'Minerva,' Dumbledore protested. 'That would not be necessary. Harry needs to continue his education, after all. Besides, I need to speak with him about his…troubling…behaviour yesterday.'
'Troubling behaviour, Albus?' McGonagall asked acidly. Dumbledore had the audacity to nod. 'What "troubling behaviour"? Helping save hundreds of students and taking out over thirty Death Eaters, including five of the most savage of the lot?'
'Ah, but Minerva, the finality of his – and his friends' – actions are quite lamentable, is it not?'
McGonagall sniffed. 'The deaths of thirty-odd looters, rapists, and murders do not bother my conscience in the slightest. I suggest you stop this line of questioning at once, Albus. Harry and his friends have already been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours.'
Dumbledore looked aghast. 'Minerva! Surely you're not justifying Harry's actions?'
'So what if I am?' McGonagall shot back.
Dumbledore turned to Snape. 'Severus, does the path Harry is taking not seem familiar?' he pleaded. 'He is turning into the exact type of person that would willingly bow before Voldemort!'
'I agree with Minerva,' Snape replied curtly. 'The world is better off without…beasts…like Bellatrix Lestrange.' Harry heard Neville give a grunt of approval behind him.
'Filius? Pomona?' Dumbledore tried desperately.
'Mister Potter's actions should be lauded, not condemned!' Flitwick squeaked. 'And so should those of every one of the students here!'
'I stand with my fellow Heads of House,' Sprout supplied.
Fawkes gave a trill and took off from his perch. He flew around the study once before landing on Harry's shoulder, nipping him playfully on the ear. Suddenly, Harry felt a warm, almost euphoric feeling course through him. It was almost like hearing phoenix song, but magnified by a factor of fifty.
'Hello, Fawkes,' Harry greeted quietly, stroking the phoenix's beak. Fawkes looked quite content at the treatment he was receiving.
Dumbledore looked taken aback. 'Fawkes,' he called. The phoenix did not move from Harry's shoulder.
'Fawkes!' Dumbledore commanded more forcefully. Fawkes turned its head towards the Headmaster and gave him what must have been a phoenix's best attempt at a sneer before going back to nipping Harry's ear.
'What is the meaning of this?' Dumbledore demanded, beginning to lose his temper.
'That should be obvious, Albus,' McGonagall answered in a clipped tone. 'Fawkes has chosen a new companion. Harry, how do you feel?'
'Incredible,' Harry replied truthfully. 'Like…there's nothing unhappy at all in me.'
'I feel the same,' Hermione gasped.
'That is proof, Albus,' McGonagall said severely. 'It would appear that Fawkes has finally grown sick of your attitudes and twisted sense of right and wrong and reconsidered his loyalties.'
'Th-That's impossible,' Dumbledore breathed.
'Impossible or not, it has occurred,' Snape said silkily. 'Perhaps you should spend some time contemplating your actions instead of accusing your students of becoming the next Dark Lord?'
Dumbledore sighed, looking extremely uncomfortable. 'You are all dismissed.'
Harry, Hermione, and the rest of their group left the Headmaster's study. Fawkes was still riding on Harry's shoulder, looking like he belonged there.
'Uh…Professor McGonagall?'
'Yes, Potter?'
'What am I supposed to do with a phoenix?'
McGonagall looked amused while Fawkes gave an affronted trill. 'If that is agreeable with Fawkes, you could send him up to the Owlery. If not, arrangements can be made to keep him in your Dormitory.'
'Fawkes, what would you like?' Harry asked quietly. Fawkes gave a trill that Harry somehow managed to understand as his way of saying, 'The Owlery is fine.'
'He prefers the Owlery,' Harry told McGonagall.
The group separated. Harry and Hermione made their way up to the Owlery. 'How do you think Hedwig would react to you having a phoenix?' Hermione asked amusedly.
'We're about to find out, aren't we?' Harry replied as they walked through the doorway. He reached out with his right hand and called Hedwig down.
The owl looked at Harry, then at Fawkes, before turning back to Harry with a questioning glance.
'This is Fawkes, Hedwig,' Harry introduced. 'Fawkes, Hedwig. Fawkes is my phoenix now, Hedwig. He'll be staying here.'
Hedwig examined Fawkes with her yellow eyes for a moment before turning back to Harry and clicking her beak approvingly.
'Well, Fawkes, go on,' Harry said gently, stroking his feathers. 'Hedwig will take care of you.'
As if on cue, Hedwig took to the air and began making her way back to her perch. Fawkes took off after her, flapping his great wings majestically to the shocked curiosity of the other owls.
Albus stared at the empty perch that used to belong Fawkes and sighed. How had this happened? Phoenixes were supposed to be some of the most loyal creatures in the world. They would die for their masters – not that that was saying much – if need be. How was it possible that Fawkes had betrayed him and chosen Harry instead?
Albus thought that he had the answer. The boy had fully Gone Dark and there was nothing Albus could do to save him anymore. He must have confounded Fawkes with some sort of dark spell, tricking him into severing his familiar bond with Albus and forming a new one with him. That had to be the answer. Phoenixes – creatures that embodied the Light – would not choose to bond on their own accord with someone like Harry, who held such a disturbingly casual attitude towards killing.
There was no more that Albus could do to prevent the rise of another Dark Lord now. Despite his best efforts, Harry had gone the same way as Tom all those years ago. Now, it was up to Albus to prevent Harry from rising, gaining power, and terrorizing the rest of the wizarding world.
Harry seemed to despise Tom and his Death Eaters. Albus had foolishly thought that it was out of a desire to avenge his mother and father, but that could not possibly be the case anymore. No, Harry despised Tom and his followers because they stood in the way of his own rise to the position of the greatest dark wizard in history.
And Harry was already on that path. He had a clique of followers, worryingly drawn from all four Houses. Tom's weakness had been his steadfast belief in his ideology. Harry, obviously, had no such artificial limitations. His only desire was to take over the magical world and rule it under his iron fist. Knowing his non-magical background, Harry might take a chance at seizing the muggle world, too. That message had appeal, Albus knew from his own experiences with Gellert. Harry would have no trouble recruiting followers for his cause.
What was worse, Harry seemed to have the support of all his teachers. Even Severus. Severus's hatred towards him on account of his father had been useful, Albus knew. Just like with the Dursleys, it kept his confidence in check. Without this block in place, Harry had evidently become powerful, dark, and uncontrollable. It was just like Tom, all over again.
Albus's hands were tied, though. He needed Harry to defeat Tom first before Albus could move against Harry – for he seemed to have gone so far down the path of darkness that Albus alone could not turn him back. Harry's…power-struggle…against Tom was at least useful, Albus thought. Harry would stop at nothing to take out Tom – even if his motive was to replace him. Evidently, the 'power he knows not' mentioned in the Prophecy was Harry's superior command of the Dark Arts in relation to Tom. That was lamentable, but it was useful.
He quickly formulated a plan. He would wait until Harry had defeated Tom – it was an inevitability, Albus thought. After his defeat of Tom, Albus needed to act decisively to end him and his entire follower base. They needed to be put in Azkaban for the crimes that they would inevitably commit – killing them was barbaric, of course, and he was sure that Azkaban would eventually help Harry redeem himself.
Albus had defeated one Dark Lord in his life. He could nip another one right in the bud before he had a chance to exact terror the likes of which the world had never seen.
Harry and Hermione decided to spend their week's leave with Hermione's parents. They were glad to have the kids back at home, but a little less glad when they heard about the Battle of Hogsmeade, as the Daily Prophet had begun calling it.
Hermione had said that very few things could make her dad shudder, but this was one of them. Helen was openly crying at the end of the teens' recounting, and Josh looked pale, shaken, and in need of a glass of scotch.
They spent most of their days in the local park, eliciting curious glances from passers-by at why two seemingly school-aged children were spending their weekday mornings out and about. Harry wondered what the reaction would be if they had been in Little Whinging. The police would probably have been called by now to apprehend the escaped fugitive from St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.
The only other denizens of the park were Rowntree and his airheaded gang, though they had learned to give Harry and Hermione a wide berth. Even meat headed idiots like him could learn, Harry thought.
'He always went on about how he had a guaranteed place at Westminster School,' Hermione said with an evil snicker when the two of them spotted Rowntree and his cronies smoking cannabis one afternoon. 'Good to see he's stuck in the local comprehensive. The way he's going, I don't even know if he'd graduate.'
Thursday morning, they apparated to the Burrow, where they had their life squeezed out of them by a frantic Molly Weasley, who gushed incomprehensibly about how glad she was to see them unhurt.
Ginny was sitting in the lounge, reading a book – or trying to read. Harry did not see her turn a page from the moment he walked through the Burrow's door to when he and Hermione sat down opposite her.
'How's everything?' Harry asked gently.
Ginny closed the book she was staring at and shrugged. 'How do you deal with it?' she asked.
'Deal with what?'
'The night terrors,' she replied in a whisper. 'I wasn't even in the thick of it and I see green spells flying and screams of pain and fear every night. And you…you've been through so much more. How?'
'How I've not lost my mind?' Harry asked. Ginny nodded. 'I didn't go through it alone. Hermione was there with me the whole way. We had each other. It helped.'
'I don't know how to broach it with Dean,' Ginny muttered darkly. 'He's understanding enough and doesn't force me to talk or anything, but I wish I could. It's just…I don't have someone like Hermione, Harry. Someone who understands.'
'It doesn't have to be your boyfriend,' Hermione said softly. 'Harry and I…we weren't together in that sense for the longest time. We still leaned on each other.'
Ginny shrugged. 'Maybe not, but you were more emotionally intimate than many married couples, even back in your second year. Don't deny it. It's obvious. Even when my bell-end brother was in the picture, it was always you two who were really the closest.'
'What about your friends?' Hermione suggested. 'Or us?'
Ginny shrugged again. 'Neville and Daphne have each other now, and I don't want to burden Susan or Luna.'
'It's not burdening,' Hermione said. 'Harry here used to never want to talk to anyone. I forced him to talk to me and things got better for the both of us. Really, Ginny. Don't think of it as something they're doing for you. Think of it as helping each other out.'
'Uh…I guess…maybe,' Ginny murmured.
'Luna lives nearby, doesn't she? Why don't you owl her?'
'How did you know…oh, of course…'
Harry laughed a little. 'Long story, Ginny. But yeah, we visited the Lovegood house a bit more than two years into the future. Hermione's right, by the way. You should owl her. She's probably going through the same things as you.'
'Yeah…okay…I just…am I breaking Dean's trust?' she asked, concerned. 'Like…isn't the point of having a boyfriend to be able to like…tell him things?'
'Not at all,' Hermione replied firmly. 'If Dean truly loves you, then he'll support anything you do to help yourself. If he makes a fuss about it…well, then maybe he wasn't the right choice to begin with. Case in point, I…ugh, I hate to admit this…I dated Ron for a few months in the future – '
'You what?' Ginny squeaked.
Hermione blushed bright pink. 'I…uh…I dated Ron. But I wasn't comfortable with telling him a lot of things, and I went to Harry instead. And Ron took issue…well, you know how he could be. Anyway, the point is, if you really mean something to Dean, then of course he'll support you however you choose to recover.'
'Okay, yeah, I see,' Ginny said, shuddering a little. 'Yeah, I'll owl Luna, okay…yeah.'
'Ginny, are you okay?' Hermione asked, looking serious and slightly amused at the same time.
'Yeah! I mean…maybe! I don't know,' she replied. 'You, going out with Ron? I can't imagine…I don't want to imagine!'
Harry was secretly glad that this was what was bothering her most right now, not something dark or horrible from the recent battle. Levity was always a welcome guest in these times, he knew from experience.
Hermione giggled. 'Truth be told, I don't even know what possessed me to do that. Yeah, he was a turncoat and a traitor and all, but bloody mother of Merlin was he a sloppy kisser!'
Neville lay on the grass on the expansive front gardens outside his family's manor. His wand was in the air and he was absentmindedly conjuring balls and Vanishing them before they hit the ground. It was a sort of entertainment, something to keep his mind off things. If he allowed his mind to wander, he would inevitably see and hear the battle again. See fellow students being struck down by curses, see his enemies – Death Eaters, yes, but humans nonetheless – being blown to bits by his wand, see and hear Dolohov torturing his…girlfriend.
Neville was still reeling from that. He really had ought to be grateful for having at least some sort of silver lining from the last few days, where others were experiencing nothing but trauma and grief. He, at least, had something warm and beautiful – very beautiful – to reminisce about, and that certainly helped.
Neville conjured another ball. He Banished it this time high into the air – it was more of a challenge this way – before trying to Vanish it. He missed his first spell, but took aim carefully and nailed it with his second.
'Smooth,' came a voice from behind him. Neville cocked his head in that direction. Daphne was standing there with a smirk on her face. 'I don't think you've got a chance at being a Chaser with that aim, though.'
'Wh-When did you get here?'
'You know,' Daphne said, sitting down next to him. 'You could have said "good afternoon" or something first.'
Neville snorted. 'Good afternoon. When did you get here?'
'Charming, Longbottom. I got here not five minutes ago. I wanted to talk to you and your grandmother went a step further and let me through the Floo.'
'Did she?'
'Not glad that she did?'
'Quite the contrary.'
Daphne winked and tossed her hair. 'How glad?'
Neville was confused. 'Huh?'
'Nev, you have a lot to learn,' Daphne chortled. 'That was a cue for you to snog me, idiot.'
'How do I like…do that?' Neville asked, blushing harder than ever.
Daphne shrugged. 'I haven't had much experience besides watching Harry and Hermione's outlandish public displays of affection.'
'Oh, yeah,' Neville ran a hand through his hair, 'Those two really don't care, do they?'
'No, they don't,' Daphne agreed. 'Well, are you going to give it your best shot or are you just going to keep lying there conjuring marbles to Vanish?'
Neville tentatively brought his lips to hers, kissing her tenderly. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, truth be told. He could count on one hand the number of times he had kissed Luna – and that was always just a peck. This was worlds better, though.
'I think you're supposed to, like, open your mouth,' Daphne muttered.
Neville did as she said and parted his lips slightly. His tongue fell forward and brushed against her lips. She parted her lips in turn to accept him.
'You had me thinking you didn't know how this was done,' Daphne said out of the corner of her mouth.
'You likewise,' Neville replied. 'Now what?'
'Just do whatever you want?' Daphne suggested.
Shyly, Neville touched his tongue to hers. The moment that happened, it was as if a wave of passion washed over him. Daphne must have felt the same, for she pushed him back down on the grass and began attacking his mouth with hers.
Neville must have forgotten to breathe, because the next thing he knew, he was beginning to lose feeling in his extremities. He backed his lips away from hers, panting.
'That was…intense…' Daphne said breathily, red in the face.
'Uh-huh.'
Neville cuddled her, bringing her body flush with his as both caught their breaths. He felt a surge of euphoria hit him as he did so, and it was as if everything else was forgotten except for her.
'How are you?' Neville finally asked after several minutes of comfortable silence that seemed to fly past. 'About the battle and everything.'
Daphne stroked his cheek absently. 'Let's not talk about it right now,' she breathed. 'This is too good of a moment to ruin with that kind of talk.'
Neville had to agree.
