* ~ The Eighth Year Universe Series ~ *
PART THREE
The Eighth Year
Chapter 39: The 5 Stages of Grief
A/N: The bits in Italics are narration by Daphne. They are essentially Daphne's thoughts about what's going on. They were inspired by a voice-over in something. I think it might have been Grey's Anatomy.
They say grief occurs in 5 stages. First comes denial, and I had felt that all of the way through Hogsmeade. Even as Tracey's dead body floated along eerily behind me on that stretcher, I still refused to believe that she was gone. How could this happen? The girl I had known since I was five years old, my first friend and the person who I could trust with my life, was gone. I would never joke with her again or sit up all night and eat ice cream with her after a break-up. Even when we got to the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey placed the sheet over her cold, pale body, I couldn't accept that she was gone because I didn't want to.
They say that the second stage of grief is anger. Once the shock has gone, and the pain is all that is left, you start to find ways to blame other people for your loss...or worse, you find ways to blame yourself. It was the second stage of grief that threatened to tear us all apart in the hours following the tragedy of Valentine's Day.
Everyone was scattered across the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey rushed around the beds and fixed everyone up physically; there wasn't much she could do to help them emotionally.
Hermione was hidden behind a screen, and Draco was behind it with her as Madam Pomfrey tended to the worst of her injuries. From where the others sat on beds, they caught the odd few words like, "broken", "tortured", "in shock", "needs rest", "will still have scars", "dark magic".
From everything that they had heard, they knew that the prognosis for Hermione wasn't good. She would get better physically, but the dark magic inflicted upon her would forever leave scars, adding to the ugly scar on her arm that spelt 'mudblood'. The hardest battle for Hermione, however, would be the emotional one. She had only just recovered from the terrible things that had happened to her in Malfoy Manor, and now she would have to go through it all again. She had Draco this time though, and Harry felt that would make a big difference.
Sadie's head injury hadn't been serious, but she was tucked up in a bed. All the same, Madam Pomfrey wanted her to spend the night in the hospital wing just in case. She had her legs drawn up to her chest and was staring at the opposite wall emotionlessly. Theo was sitting by her bed; he was nursing a broken wrist and looking at his girlfriend helplessly because he wished that he could do something to help.
Harry was relatively unscathed, Madam Pomfrey had offered to heal up the cuts on his face, but he had shooed her away and told her to attend to the more serious injuries. Daphne was in a state almost as bad as Hermione.
She had clearly had a magical whip used on her from her bloody back. Daphne didn't seem to feel any physical pain though, the emotional pain of losing her best friend had made her numb, and although she had limped through the village, she hadn't needed Harry's assistance as much as Hermione had needed Draco's.
Madam Pomfrey finished with Hermione and then began to work on Daphne, who allowed the matron to lead her to a bed which was more than Harry had been able to do. Harry watched as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, told Daphne to swallow potions and muttered charms under her breath. He felt completely useless because he knew that there was nothing he could do for her at all.
"Her injuries are not particularly extensive," Madam Pomfrey eventually said to Harry as she gave Daphne a sleeping draught to allow her to get a long rest so that her body had time to recover.
"Her ankle was fractured and might be stiff for the next few days, and the ligaments in her knee were torn. I am surprised that she managed to walk as far as she did. I have given her a potion to numb the pain, but she will need to take it daily for the next week to heal the ligaments."
Harry nodded; he felt unbelievable emotional pain and responsibility for what had happened to Daphne. He had hoped that was the end of it, but Madam Pomfrey continued, "She was hurt by dark magic. It was the same dark spell you used on Mr Malfoy a few years ago."
"Sectumsempra," Harry muttered. He shook his head angrily. It had been used on Hermione too, but then again, Rosier and Severus Snape had been friends during their school days.
Pomfrey nodded, "I have healed the wounds, but like the scar on your forehead, dark magic leaves a mark on the skin. The scars may fade, but they will always be there."
"Where are they?" Harry asked. He felt sick to his stomach as Madam Pomfrey lifted Daphne's top and showed him four long, white scars on her abdomen. He felt the anger burning inside him at what the Death Eaters had done to her, but he contained it and nodded at Pomfrey.
Harry glanced one last time at Daphne, who finally looked peaceful, and then he made his way over to the others who were being treated for minor injuries.
Harry collapsed into a chair next to Neville, who winced as he rubbed cream onto a gash on his head, "We're going to get questioned," he said quietly to his fellow Gryffindor, "Draco and I, for the use of the unforgivable curses."
"And you're going to get let off. It was self-defence," Neville said. He had always had Harry's back.
"Neville's right, mate," Ron said quietly, "You'll get away with it."
"But was it self-defence? Why did I use the killing curse? Why didn't I just stun him?" Harry asked a question he had been asking himself for hours.
Neville sighed and put the cream down on the bedside table of Hannah's bed. She was staring at the roof with tear tracks on her face.
"You know the answer to that as well as I do. If you had stunned him, Draco wouldn't be here right now. The time delay would have allowed him to finish the spell before he lost consciousness. You needed to save Draco's life, and you did the right thing," Neville said firmly.
Harry nodded; he still wasn't as convinced as Neville that he had done the right thing, though.
"Think of it like the war, Harry," Ron said with a sigh, "Sacrifices had to be made. If someone had killed the Death Eater fighting Fred instead of stunned him, then Fred would be alive today."
"You spared Narcissa all that Molly went through," Neville agreed, "And she'll thank you for that. Draco is all that Narcissa has left. Never underestimate how much her son means to her."
"I don't," Harry said softly, "I know what she would do for her son. She's as brave as Molly in that department."
Ron smiled weakly, and Harry said, "Thanks, Nev."
Then Harry looked to Ron and spontaneously hugged his best friend, "I've missed you, Ron."
"I've missed you too, mate," Ron said sheepishly, "I've sort of been avoiding the school because of Lilly."
"How is she?" Harry asked quietly as he looked to the bed Lilly was sleeping in.
"Unhurt physically," Ron said quietly, "But very shaken up. I don't know whether to stay or leave."
"Stay," Harry said, "She's going to need somebody right now, and she might let that person be you."
"But don't screw it up again," Neville sighed.
"I learned my lesson the first time," Ron said with a frown, "Never take a good thing for granted."
"That's a good thing to learn," Harry said as he looked over at Susan, who was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room with her legs drawn up to her chest, "How is Susan?"
Neville shook his head, "Not good," he admitted, "She blames herself. I've never seen her this way."
"I know how she feels," Harry sighed. He felt a headache coming on, although the large bump on his head probably wasn't helping, "I blamed myself for Sirius's death for a year...at least."
"I think she'll be okay. She just needs time," Neville said. He shut his eyes and rested his head against the wall.
At that point, the doors to the hospital wing opened, and two people marched in—Kingsley Shacklebolt and Percy, whose head wound was now covered with a bandage. McGonagall, who hadn't left the room since the group of eighth years had arrived, made her way over to the Minister.
"Minerva, I apologise for this, but I must interview your students," Kingsley said to the Headmistress in an undertone.
"I quite understand, Minister, but you will only question my students in my presence," McGonagall said stiffly.
Kingsley frowned but nodded, "Of course. We will start with Harry Potter."
McGonagall gave a sharp nod and glanced across the room, "Potter!" she called. She motioned for the Gryffindor to join them. Harry swallowed hard and shakily made his way over to the group of people.
"Mr Potter, take a seat," Kingsley said very formally as he drew a curtain around them to hide them from prying eyes. He then cast a silencing charm and pulled up four chairs.
Kingsley had meant for McGonagall to sit next to him and Percy to sit with Harry. Instead, McGonagall took the seat by Harry and said quietly, "Tell the truth, Potter."
Harry nodded; he had intended to do so anyway.
Kingsley sighed, "Harry, I hate to do this, but you have used an unforgivable curse, and I must conduct a thorough investigation into its usage. It may result in your expulsion from Hogwarts."
"Expulsion?" Harry asked sharply. The anger he had pushed down was now threatening to boil to the surface.
"Harry, I-" Kingsley began to say, but it was too late. Harry was on his feet.
"You want to expel me? YOU SAID IT WOULD GET BETTER! YOU SAID IT WOULD STOP WHEN YOU BECAME MINISTER!" Harry roared. His voice was so loud that it could be heard over the charms Kingsley had placed on the curtain. The hospital wing went silent as they listened to a famous Potter outburst of anger.
"But you just lied; you are like any other politician! The ministry is still corrupt, and it is your fault! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! You were in the Order! You were an Auror, and you couldn't work out that Dolores Umbridge was a threat! You couldn't stop her from trying to kill Hermione and Daphne! Or from killing Dean and Tracey! AND IT WAS ALL BECAUSE WE WANTED CHANGE! IT WAS ALL BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T WANT US TO GET RID OF THE CORRUPTION IN YOUR FUCKING MINISTRY!"
Harry could feel his throat getting drier. He knew he would barely be able to speak tomorrow, but he didn't care.
The anger he had bottled up was finally being released. He fell into the chair next to McGonagall, gasping for breath, and Harry was surprised when McGonagall gently placed her arm around him.
McGonagall firmly said, "He has a point, Minister. The corruption in the ministry is the reason why this happened. How Umbridge even found out that Potter and his friends had plans to end corruption within the ministry, I have no idea. I can only conclude that you have no grounds to expel Potter or his friends. I think you will find that killing curses were the only way they could protect themselves."
Kingsley was taken aback by Harry's explosive temper and by McGonagall's coldness towards him, "I believe that Harry knows several stunning charms, and I think we are all aware of his fondness of Expelliarmus."
"I used Expelliarmus to kill Voldemort," Harry said with a firm nod, "That's true. But it was just Voldemort and me up there. He wasn't a threat to the people that I loved. I wasn't desperate. I was desperate today because the girl I intend to marry one day was in danger, and so were the only people left on this planet that I love."
Harry looked up and caught Kingsley's eyes. He had a fire burning in his eyes, a fire that Kingsley had seen several times, "I used the killing curse because if I had stunned him, he would have killed Draco. I don't know if you have noticed Kingsley, but the closest thing I have to family is dating Draco, and she's completely in love with him. I couldn't let her lose him, and I couldn't lose him as a friend either."
McGonagall nodded her agreement, "I think you know better than anyone else, Minister, that stunning charms have a small delay in which the target can finish his spell."
Kingsley swallowed visibly at the comment but did not show any other sign of weakness, "Very well. I can see your loyalty remains first and foremost with your students Minerva," he said, somewhat bitterly.
"I'm sorry, Kingsley, but I won't sit back and let you ruin the country anymore," Harry said as he got to his feet, "You're my friend, but you promised change when you became Minister for Magic, and things are the same, if not worse."
Kingsley nodded, "Send Mr Black in," he said.
Harry nodded; he still shook with anger as he left the curtained off area of the hospital wing. He took a deep breath and walked over to the curtain that Hermione was hidden behind, "Draco," he called quietly.
A moment later, Draco emerged from the curtain; his eyes were red and bloodshot.
Harry hated that he would now have to deal with the Minister for Magic, who was probably now in a horrible mood after Harry's outburst.
"The Minister for Magic is waiting for you in the curtained off area. He's questioning us about our use of unforgivable curses," Harry said as he gripped Draco's arm and led him over to the curtained off area, "Good luck," he said quietly as she Slytherin disappeared behind it.
Draco silently took his seat next to McGonagall, who gave him a small smile of encouragement as Kingsley asked, "You know why you are here?"
Draco nodded, and Kingsley said, "Good. Then let's begin. You used an unforgivable curse to kill Evan Rosier, correct?"
"Yes," Draco said quietly, his eyes were fixed on the floor.
"Why?" Kingsley asked simply.
Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and answered, "I don't know. I didn't think it would hit him...he threw killing curses at me, and I avoided them and threw one back...Then I turned around, and he was dead."
"So the use of the killing curse was unnecessary?" Kingsley asked; his quill was poised over his paper.
"I..." Draco trailed off. Was it? Could he have just used a stunning charm?
"Do not say anymore, Mr Black," McGonagall said quickly, "Minister. As we have already established, these students did not have many other options to defend themselves. Do you not believe that in this situation, these students used the unforgivables for self-defence?"
"I must thoroughly investigate why a killing curse was used where a stunning charm would suffice," Kingsley said firmly.
"Because I didn't see any other way," Draco said quietly, "I panicked. We got in there, and Percy, the guy who was supposed to be experienced, was immediately knocked out. Harry, Ron and I were left to duel these two Death Eaters, and our girlfriends were all tied up, most of them bleeding too. I thought with my heart, not my head. My only thought was defending them; I could only think about how I couldn't lose Hermione…not so soon after losing…" his breath caught in his throat, "Pansy," he finished.
McGonagall sighed and narrowed her eyes at Kingsley, "These students lost so much in the war. Can you not fathom the idea that they are terrified to lose the people that they love? And their fear was founded because they lost two people today, and that should not have happened, Minister. I do not know how you can expect to tell students who fought in a war that it was okay to kill a Death Eater in self-defence then but that it is not okay to kill those same people in self-defence now."
Kingsley opened his mouth to speak, but McGonagall beat him to it, "Just because the war is over does not mean that the danger has passed. Two young people died tonight, and if these students had not acted as they did, more might have died with them."
There was silence for a moment, and then Kingsley finally sighed and said to Draco, "You are free to go. Please send Miss Bones in."
With a nod, Draco left the curtained off area and breathed a sigh of relief. He made his way over to Susan and said gently, "Susan, the Minister, wants to talk to you about your use of an unforgivable curse. He's already talked to Harry and me."
"Okay," Susan said weakly. She allowed Draco to link his arm through hers and lead her over to the area where the Minister was waiting.
"Are you going to be okay?" Draco asked.
Susan looked strangely at Draco and replied, "Eventually," as she disappeared behind the curtain.
Like Draco had before her, Susan silently took the seat next to McGonagall and waited for Kingsley to speak to her, "Miss. Bones, I need to ask you about your use of the killing curse earlier today."
Susan only nodded, and when he realised that she wasn't going to say anything, Kingsley said, "You killed Dolores Umbridge, correct?"
"Yes," Susan said.
"Was it in self-defence?" Kingsley asked. He took a different approach than he had with Draco. He could see that Susan was distraught and very emotionally volatile.
"Yes," Susan said, she did not elaborate.
"What happened to make you feel that you had no choice but to use the killing curse?" Kingsley asked as he scribbled on the piece of parchment in his lap.
"I saw her moving, and I saw her saying the spell, but I didn't move fast enough with the curse," Susan said shakily, "Dean was dead by the time it hit her...and then I thought she was dead, but-" she cut herself off and gasped loudly as she tried to get air back into her lungs, "She wasn't dead and then she killed Tracey, and I tried to stop her...but the curse didn't hit her in time. I was too late; it was all my fault."
Susan had begun to sob once more, and her whole body shook as she did so. McGonagall gave Kingsley a dirty look and ushered Susan out of the curtained area.
Only then did the Headmistress make her way back over to Kingsley, "My students are in shock and have just lost their close friends. I would thank you for leaving my school, Minister, until you can come back with some semblance of humanity."
Before Kingsley could argue, McGonagall forced him from the hospital wing and slammed the doors shut behind him.
"I apologise for that, Professor," Percy said from where he was still hovering in the hospital wing, "I had to take the bodies back to the ministry. There was no way of Minister Shacklebolt not finding out."
McGonagall shook her head, "Do not worry, Percy. I do not blame you," she said, "But you should go. It is going to be a long night here."
Percy nodded, "I understand, Professor. However, I think I will stick around for my brother's sake, and if you allow it, I would like to be able to inform my sister of Dean's death. They were close."
McGonagall sighed heavily; she had forgotten about Ginny Weasley's former relationship with Dean Thomas. She nodded, "Of course, the password to the Gryffindor common room is lionheart."
"Thank you," Percy said simply as he slipped out of the hospital wing and shut the doors firmly behind him.
Back in the hospital, wing tensions were still on the rise. Draco had gone back to Hermione's side, so they were hidden behind the curtains. Daphne was still fast asleep due to the strength of the sleeping draught, but everyone else had been allowed to leave the hospital wing apart from Lilly and Sadie, who were being kept in overnight. Due to the tragedy of it all and the state of shock Lilly and Sadie were in, Theo and Ron had convinced Madam Pomfrey to let them stay.
Harry, Neville, Hannah and Susan made their way to the common room in silence. They didn't know what time it was, but they knew it was late because the candles were lit and it was pitch black outside. The common room was deserted when they got there, and a glance at the clock on the wall told them that it was the middle of the night. The moment they were in the room, Susan made her way to the girl's staircase and climbed it without a word to the others.
"Deans been dead for 10 hours," Harry said quietly. He collapsed into a chair by the fire, which was still burning but looked like it would splutter out very soon, "It's not going to feel right...Dean not being here. I've known him for so long..."
Hannah snorted, and Harry frowned as he turned to face her, "What was that for?" he asked irritably.
"Don't act like he was your best friend," Hannah said harshly, "Tracey and Daphne were like sisters! You never saw one without the other before you and her started going out. She has a right to be upset. You shared a dorm with Dean, but it's not like you were ever friends. You only ever cared about Ron and Hermione."
"That's not true," Harry said. He pushed himself angrily to his feet, "I care about a lot of people. I learned to stop showing how much I care for people because everyone I love ended up dying! You have no idea how much it hurts to hide your feelings!"
"Yeah," Hannah said bitterly, "You're right, I have no idea what it's like to be precious Harry Potter with his perfect life and the awful burden of being the hero who has to save the whole world, blah, blah, blah!"
"Calm down, Hannah," Neville said firmly, "Harry's life was never perfect. He got beaten up by Muggles, and he lost every Father figure he ever had. You have no idea what he went through."
"Oh, don't I? So losing my real mum is nothing compared to Harry losing 'father figures' right?" Hannah said dryly; her voice got louder the angrier she got, "At some point, Neville, you're going to have to make your mind up. You're either with me, and you stand by me, or you stick with your precious boy who lived!"
"Hannah," Neville said in a low, dangerous voice, "That's below the belt."
Hannah laughed bitterly, "Right, so that's your choice then, him? Fine, then we're done, Neville!"
As she said her last words, she spun on her heel and left the room. The door shut loudly behind her. Neville stood in the common room, looking shocked and angry for a moment and then hurried up the staircase to the boy's tower.
Harry was left in the common room alone after the ordeal, and he knew he wouldn't sleep that night, so he decided that conjuring Kreacher to bring him a bottle of firewhiskey was the best option.
Neville climbed the tower but passed his dorm room. He also passed Harry and Draco's top floor room and went directly to the locked door at the top of the tower, leading to the roof. He muttered a rubbish "Alohomora," which thankfully opened the door, and then he pushed through it and cherished the cold night air.
When Neville opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Susan leaning over the wall. Apparently, she had the same idea as he had. She had turned to face him when he walked out onto the roof from the boys' entrance.
"Oh," Neville said, he was embarrassed that he hadn't noticed Susan straight away, "I didn't know you were out here, Susan, I'll go."
He had already turned to leave when Susan said quietly, "No, you can stay."
Neville wouldn't have heard her if her voice hadn't carried with the wind to where he was standing. He turned around as she sat down and slumped against the cold, stone wall. Neville walked over to her and sat down next to her; he didn't mind that the ground was damp and that the air was freezing cold.
"I would ask if you're okay, but that's probably a stupid question," Neville said. He didn't look over at the redheaded Hufflepuff next to him as he leant his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
"I'll be okay," Susan said honestly. She sounded much more like herself now, "I guess I'll just wonder what I could have done differently, you know? What if I'd been quicker or my spell-casting had been better?"
The third stage of grief, so they say, is bargaining. In which you try to bargain your life for that of the person you lost. Susan experienced this more than anyone else, I believe. As much as I was grieving for Tracey, I never experienced this stage of grief because I had no reason to feel responsible for what had happened. However, I would have done anything to save Tracey, even if it had meant giving up my own life.
Neville opened his eyes; Susan wasn't crying anymore. Now that the shock had worn off, she was much calmer, but he could tell that beneath the surface, she was breaking into pieces, "My grandmother told me about my parents when I was five years old. I spent the next six years trying to figure out why it had happened and if they would be okay if they'd saved themselves and not protected me."
"Neville," Susan said quietly, her voice broke, "How could you think that?"
"See," Neville said with a small smile, "It was stupid of me to think that it was my fault that they were sick when I couldn't have done anything about it. The truth is Susan; nobody would have been fast enough. Theo and I saw it too, but we didn't think as fast as you. If it hadn't been for you, Umbridge might have gotten away with it."
Susan seemed to take some time to mull this over. She nodded but didn't say any more for a moment, "Why are you up here?" she asked.
Neville hadn't wanted to think about it. Whenever he thought of Hannah's cold, bitter, angry words, he felt anger bubbling to the surface that made him want to scream, "Hannah broke up with me," he said. He would have elaborated, but he didn't get the chance.
The fourth stage of grief is depression. When the anger bubbles down and you stop blaming yourself and denying your loss. Then the real sadness kicks in, the emptiness, the feeling like you have a hole inside you. It's like nothing will ever be the same. From this moment forward, you will have to live without your best friend and face the fact that she's gone every day.
A loud crack made both Neville and Susan jump until they realised that it was only Harry's house-elf who had apparated to the rooftop.
"Master Harry asked me to bring these to Master Longbottom and Mistress Bones," Kreacher informed them as he placed a blanket and a bottle of firewhiskey on the stone floor in front of them. Then with another crack, he vanished.
Neville gave a dry laugh, "Harry knows us well," he joked as he grabbed the blanket and handed one end to Susan, who covered herself with it. Neville did the same and opened the firewhiskey; he took a long drink and coughed at the strength of it afterwards. He handed the bottle to Susan, who took an even longer drink with no sign of discomfort.
"You're pretty badass," Neville joked.
Susan managed a weak laugh, "Right...or just a lonely misfit."
"Misfits united," Neville said. He raised the firewhiskey bottle and drank from it once more.
There was silence between them until Susan asked, "So... what happened with Hannah?"
Neville laughed a bitter, harsh laugh and drank from the bottle, "She said Harry had no right to be upset about Dean's death and then she started going on about how Harry always wanted attention for being the boy who lived."
He rolled his eyes and took another long drink, "So I stuck up for Harry, and she said I'd have to pick between her and him then she stormed out saying that it was over," Neville took one last drink before handing the bottle to Susan.
"She broke up with you for not agreeing with her?" Susan asked. From her tone of voice, it was clear that she disagreed with her friend's decision, "Harry's like your best friend, of course, you're going to stick up for him. That's pretty pathetic."
"Tell me about it," Neville muttered as he leant once more against the stone wall.
Susan laughed, it was out of the blue, and it caused Neville to open his eyes to look at her, "We're so screwed up," she said. She was laughing to stop herself from crying, "Tracey's dead, Dean's dead, and Hermione and Daphne have been tortured," her laughter became mixed with tears, "And Hannah's broken up with you, and I'm falling apart," she turned to face Neville, "It's so screwed up."
Neville was going to reply, but he didn't know what to say, he opened his mouth to spew out some nonsense about how it would all be okay in the end, but he didn't end up saying what he had intended to say because Susan grabbed his face and kissed him. Neville was stunned at first, but then his foggy mind began to interpret what was happening, and he kissed Susan back. His logic was that he had nothing to lose; he had already lost Hannah for being loyal to Harry, one of the few people who had always been there for him. His logic was twisted, but he enjoyed kissing Susan. It was the first time all day he had felt something other than pain, so for once in his life, he was selfish, and he deepened the kiss. It was the opposite of Hannah's kisses because Susan was the opposite of Hannah. It was hot, passionate and fast, a battle of wills and power. It wasn't slow and sweet like Hannah or her kisses, and Neville relished in that.
"I'm so sorry," Susan gasped as she broke the kiss, "I shouldn't have done that."
Neville shook his head, "It's okay," he murmured as he kissed her again. It wasn't like this was new to them.
They had been friends for a long time, and while Harry had been busy stalking Draco Malfoy and learning about Horcruxes, Neville had been going through a tough time himself. Through a late-night conversation one night atop the astronomy tower, he had found an ally in Susan who had just lost her Aunt. They had both been in dark places at that time, and they had channelled that darkness into a twisted sort of fling with each other. It hadn't been natural, and it certainly hadn't been a conventional relationship, but Neville realised tonight how much he had missed it.
It seemed strange to Susan too that she hadn't realised until this moment how much she had missed Neville as they shivered together on the open rooftop; it brought back memories of their secret meetings atop the astronomy tower. It was easy for them to find comfort in each other because they had already been intimate in the past. It was the natural progression of things when Neville mumbled a warming charm on the rooftop and conjured up more blankets. Susan knew exactly why he had done both things but didn't question him as he captured her lips once more. Like all of the others, the kiss was fast and needy and full of passion and want.
Neville was different to how Susan remembered him, but that wasn't necessarily surprising. He had been through a war since then. He pulled off her t-shirt and let his hands roam down her body; she shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. He was firmer, more confident and more assertive. He was sure of himself now, and that was an attractive thing in a man.
He was undoubtedly more dominant than she remembered, he had always been shy and bumbling, but it was Neville who took the lead now. It was Neville who unclasped her bra with ease and pressed her against the cold, hard ground. Yet despite the change, he was still the Neville Longbottom who lay entirely naked against her and whispered, "Are you sure about this Suse?"
Susan smiled very slightly, despite it all. She knew it was all wrong; she knew sleeping with Neville when he had just broken up with her best friend made her a terrible person. It was all the worse that her best friend didn't even know that she and Neville had slept together in the past. Susan knew that channelling her anger and bitterness about what had happened to Dean and Tracey through sex was wrong, but she wanted it all the same, and she knew that made her a monster.
"I'm sure," Susan said simply.
That was all the confirmation that it took, and moments later, they were moving together as one under the dark, cloudy sky. Susan swallowed her bitterness and guilt as she gripped Neville tightly, and Neville cast all of his own bitter, angry thoughts about Hannah from his mind.
The moment that they both fell apart in each other's arms was the moment when they both finally fell apart mentally too. Susan had been holding it together as best as she could, and Neville had been the strong one for the sake of everybody else. But when the magnitude of what they had done hit them, they both cried. They cried because of the effect it would have on them both, because of the impact it would have on Hannah and the group. They cried for Tracey and Dean because they both knew that it had all started with them.
The common room was lonely at first; Harry had gotten through half a bottle of firewhiskey by 4.30 am when Hannah staggered through the portrait hole. It was clear that she had been drinking, so Harry turned away from her; he expected her to ignore him and go up to her dorm room. Instead, she sat down on the armchair across from him, "I did a bad thing," she admitted as she let her head fall into her hands.
"By breaking up with Neville? I know you did," Harry said darkly. He still hadn't forgiven her for what she had said and done.
Hannah shook her head, "I love him, Harry and I don't want to lose him."
"I hate to break it to you, Hannah, but I'm pretty sure you already have," Harry said bitterly, "He's not a complete mug, you know. He won't just come running back to you the second you apologise. He saw a different side of you tonight, and I'm pretty sure he didn't like that person."
"I know," Hannah cried, "I was so angry and upset. I don't know what came over me. I just wish Dean and Tracey weren't dead. I wish none of it had ever happened. But Neville's never going to forgive me, is he?"
"I don't know," Harry said honestly. He rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes, "I don't know much at the moment."
They didn't know what to say to each other after that, so they remained silent, but then the common room started to fill up as Theo and Draco returned from the hospital wing to try and get some sleep.
"Hey," Theo yawned. He swiped Harry's firewhiskey and then threw it over to Draco, who accepted it with a grateful grunt.
"Where's Neville?" Theo asked; it was a completely innocent question.
Draco sat down slowly on the sofa next to Theo, "Yeah, and where's Susan?" he asked.
At that point, they all shared looks of confusion and shock. Theo and Draco didn't know what had happened between Hannah and Neville, but Harry and Hannah shared a knowing look.
"He wouldn't..." Theo said.
"He didn't..." Draco added.
"She wouldn't have..." Harry said slowly.
They didn't need to ask any more questions or ponder the issue anymore; however, Neville and Susan descended the boy's staircase together. Their eyes widened when they saw the group of people in the common room.
Neville and Hannah's eyes met, but Neville didn't look at all apologetic. Susan, however, gaped at her best friend, "Hannah...I..."
"I knew Susan," Hannah said sharply, "That you two had some sordid fling in sixth year. Neville never told me, but it was all over the rumour mill," she frowned deeply and looked as if she was holding back tears, "But I never thought you still had feelings for each other..."
"Hannah, it wasn't like that," Susan said quickly, "We just..."
"You just what?" Hannah asked loudly as anger seeped back into her voice.
"You broke up with him, Hannah! Did it not occur to you how selfish that was? You left him when he needed you most! One of his best friends has just died!" Susan didn't lose her temper much, so the fact that she had said a lot about her opinion of Hannah at the moment.
"You think I don't know that?" Hannah asked quietly, "I know how much of an idiot I've been Susan; I don't need you to shove it in my face!"
"Well, that's your own problem, Hannah," Neville said darkly, "I don't want or need this kind of drama in my life. You broke up with me, so I don't see what Susan or I did wrong."
"What you did wrong?" Hannah asked breathlessly, "Does it matter if I broke up with you or not, Neville? She was my best friend!"
Hannah hurried from the room upon these words, and Neville didn't bother following her. Susan sighed heavily and slumped on the sofa next to Theo, who wrapped an arm around her, " What was it you said to me after our greenhouse three days came to an end? You really need to stop sleeping with people to make yourself feel better."
Susan raised an eyebrow at Theo, "Would you quit using my own lines against me?"
Theo smiled, "Just trying to cheer you up, Suse," he said lightly, "I think we all need to laugh at times like this. I don't think Dean and Tracey would have wanted us to be miserable."
"I think you're right," Harry admitted, "But it doesn't stop us from mourning, even if it is only for a little while."
There were some nods of agreement around the room, and silence fell as the group watched the fire slowly dancing around in the fireplace as the flames died out. They gradually trickled off to bed until eventually only Harry and Neville remained. The room was eventually thrown into darkness when the last embers of the fire went out.
Neville sighed, "Hannah and I are definitely over."
"Yeah?" Harry's voice asked.
"Yeah," Neville replied, "And not because of Susan and I... because of Hannah and the way she was tonight. How can I ever be okay with a girl who asked me to pick between the man I think of as a brother and her?"
Harry smiled slightly in the darkness, "Yeah, I love you too, Nev," he said as he read the subtext of his friend's words.
He was sure he heard Neville chuckle from the armchair he was sitting in, "I've known you for longer than I've known Hannah, and I've stuck by you through everything, Harry. I fully intend to keep doing that, and if Hannah was having problems now, she'd definitely be having problems when we became Auror partners."
Harry smiled once more in the darkness and said, "I get it, Nev, but I'm sorry it had to end the way it did."
"So am I," Neville said quietly, "But we're teenagers. Not all of us are going to end up married to the people we're dating right now. You and Daph, and Draco and Hermione though...you might be an exception."
"I hope so," Harry said softly, "Because if I learned one thing from today, it is that life is too short, and you never know when it will end. Dean was going to propose today."
"I know," Neville said in a quiet voice.
The 5th and final stage of grief is acceptance, and when I woke up in the hospital wing on Sunday morning, as painful as it was, I accepted that Tracey was gone. I accepted that I would have to live every day without her. I accepted that I would have to attend her funeral and say goodbye. Acceptance is the hardest stage of grief, in my opinion, but it is also the most important.
Valentine's Day had been an earthquake that shook all of us to the core, and we all knew we would feel the after tremors. We just never knew they would be this bad...
* ~ TBC! ~ *