Author's Note: Woe is me ...

6. Explanations

She followed her own directions to a 'T' as she approached. She twirled twice and stopped with a stomp and whistle, only to find the room unoccupied.

"Neville?" she called, even though it was obvious he wasn't there. She returned to the hallway.

"Look who it is," someone said.

She found herself wrapped in strong arms and lifted off the ground in an embrace.

"Luna," he whispered in her ear and she grinned, throwing her arms around his neck as he carried her into his room. He set her on his bed and sat beside her.

"Hey, baby," she greeted him with a kiss. "Where've you been? Is Harry here?"

Neville thought for a moment and shook his head, remembering seeing Harry earlier, but not remembering where they'd parted.

"No, he's not here anymore."

There was a faint commotion in the hallway, but they paid no mind.

"Are the kids asleep?" he inquired, smiling a little and taking her hand.

She smirked, resting her chin on his shoulder, "Are you suggesting something, Mr. Longbottom?" He put his face close to hers, rubbing their noses together and chuckled.

"Is that so wrong?"

"Let me make sure the door's locked," she told him, familiar with the routine.

Harry had made sure when Neville was admitted that certain privileges be allowed. When Luna visited, her husband almost always seemed to believe that they were at home in the privacy of their own bedroom. The healers had always told her to play along as much as possible to avoid confusing him more, and she didn't necessarily mind. Not anymore, anyway, but at first it was a bit unnerving to have an intimate moment in the sterile environment of a hospital room.

Just as she moved to go to the door, someone knocked.

"Who could that be?" Neville asked, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves.

"I don't know."

Answering the door, she found the young man that had brought Neville back to the room moments before.

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid we need your help, Mrs. Longbottom," he told her quietly.

"With what?"

"Mrs. Potter."

Luna frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"She won't leave her husband's side."

Dread bubbled up inside her chest and she asked, "Why would she have to do that?"

"He didn't tell you?"

Luna looked at Neville who had stood and was watching her carefully.

"Neville?"

"What is it? Who's at the door?"

"Where's Harry?"

He shrugged, "At home? I don't know."

"When he was here, he didn't say where he was going?"

Neville thought for a minute and shook his head, "No."

She began to look back at the visitor when Neville exclaimed, "Wait! He did say something."

"What did he say?"

"He told me that he wouldn't ... wouldn't be able to visit me anymore." He smiled with a nod, happy that he remembered.

"Mrs. Longbottom?"

Luna looked at the man with wide eyes, knowing nothing good had transpired since she left a few hours before.

"Mr. Potter has passed away and your husband was with him in his final moments. We need to take the body and were hoping you would get Mrs. Potter."

"One moment," was all she said, leaving the doorway and going to her husband.

"Is something wrong, Luna? What's happened?" he questioned.

"I have to go get Ginny, okay? I'll be right back."

"Do you want me to come with you? Where's Harry? What's going on?"

"Stay here, Neville. I'll be right back. Wait for me right here," she commanded quietly, pushing him back until he was seated on the bed.

"Okay," he nodded. Luna started to leave but went back to him and planted a kiss firmly on his forehead, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I love you. I'll be right back."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"I'll be right here."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She left quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him and also not wanting to leave, afraid that he wouldn't 'be there' when she got back. The young man led her to a room only a few doors down and she prayed silently for strength. No part of her was confident that she would remain standing when the door was opened and she was allowed inside.

"Oh," Luna gasped. Ginny was sitting on the bed beside her husband and was stroking his unkempt hair, lip quivering. "Ginny," she called softly.

"He's so warm," the other woman whispered. "He's always so warm."

"You should really come with me," Luna tried, desperate to leave as quickly as possible.

"He told me he was sick. He would wake up coughing and choking and gasping for air he really didn't want. I knew it was only a matter of time. I just didn't think it was today."

Aside from an occasional sniffle, Luna was doing well with keeping her weeping to herself.

"Does Neville know?"

Composing herself as best as she could, Luna answered, "Somewhere, yes."

"He was here, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"I was afraid of that. Harry had his reasons, I'm sure. But Neville ..." Ginny stopped and sighed. Opening her clenched fist to reveal a crumpled scrap of parchment, she unfolded it and, stepping away from the bed, showed it to her friend.

In clumsy, rushed handwriting it, simply, read:

– Neville

Luna's shoulders began to shake and Ginny closed the note in her hand once more.

"I thought something had happened to Neville, so I came to this ward. The mediwitch saw me and said, 'How'd you find out so fast?' and then brought me in here. You can imagine my surprise."

Ginny wasn't resentful in the least, but Luna sobbed, "I'm so sorry ... it's the only thing he remembers how to write."

"It got me here, didn't it?"

The mediwitch and young healer appeared in the doorway.

"Mrs. Potter ..." the woman began, but Ginny stopped her.

"I know." She leant over her husband and kissed his temple, still warm, "I love you, Harry." With a final parting look, Ginny turned and left the room. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she collapsed, falling to the floor, hugging her knees and crying into them. Luna knelt beside her and placed a hand on her back, her tears still flowing. She would glance toward Neville's room, hoping and praying that he was alright without her and hadn't slipped away again.

After a moment, Ginny asked, "Did he say anything to Neville?"

"Only that he wouldn't be able to visit anymore."

The red-head closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees.

"Harry James ..." she sighed. "He did well not to explain it all, I suppose."

"I should get back to him. He was scared when I left," Luna said, looking again at the open doorway. Ginny nodded and they rose to their feet, brushing away their tears and holding the rest back, at least for the time being.

Neville was sitting just as he'd been left, but went to them as soon as they entered.

"What's happened? Why have you been crying?" he asked hurriedly, reaching to wipe their tears with his thumbs. Almost pleadingly, he inquired, "Where's Harry?"

Taking a deep breath, Ginny responded with another question, as was customary in Neville's state of mind, "What did Harry say to you when he came by?"

"That he couldn't visit me anymore."

"Nothing else?"

"What are you looking fo ..." His face changed to a strange one. "It wasn't my fault." The women were unsure of what he was talking about and shook their heads.

"No, Neville, we weren't ..." Luna began.

"No," he interrupted, "Harry told me that it wasn't my fault; that he didn't blame me."

"Nobody blames you," Ginny whispered, understanding. Luna wrapped her arms around her husband and cried into his shirt. Neville's condition was a round-about result of his self-guilt. Harry had made progress with him, finally, and she felt a bit of her burden lift.

"Do you know where Harry is, Neville?" Ginny questioned carefully, her voice wavering a little.

"Where?" was all he said, holding Luna tightly for his own fear, not only her consolation.

Ginny remained silent for a moment and Luna peered at her from her solace in Neville's arms. Still, Ginny hesitated.

"He needs to know," Luna said.

"Right now? Are you sure?"

"I am," Neville interjected.

"He knows, Ginny. He just needs to be told."

Ginny walked to him, unfolding the scrap of parchment still in her hand and held it out to Neville.

"Do you remember this?"

His eyes moved from her face to the note as he took it from her.

"Yes ... this is ... this ..." He stopped and stared at it. When he looked up, his eyes were wide with despair as his arms dropped from around his wife and he moved to stand in the doorway, peering cautiously toward the room down the hall. "He said he was sick and wanted me to owl you."

"Neville," Luna called softly, taking a step toward him.

"I don't remember anything but what he said to me after the owl."

"Neville, baby ... look at me," Luna requested, placing her hands on his cheeks and making him look at her. "You know, don't you? You were with him."

He closed his eyes as his lip began to quiver and covered her hands with his.

"Yes ... I know," he nodded, almost whimpering, but trying not to. "But I don't remember. Why don't I remember?"

"Harry's dead, sweetheart," she told him, her tears falling again as his eyes misted. He began to shake uncontrollably and slid down the doorjamb to rest on the floor, fist to his lips to hold back his emotions. Luna dropped to her knees, sitting on his legs and he buried his face in her chest, embracing her and letting it all go. Ginny sat beside him as Neville's arm found it's way around her.