A/N: So, I posted my first completed Neville/Ginny fic a couple weeks ago and got a pretty good response to it. So I decided to post my other N/G WIP since I can't, for the life of me, figure out how I'd want to expand the one-shot I posted. Anyway, let me know what you think about this and, as I'm stuck in the middle of parts four and five, feel free to throw out suggestions. RR. Alexandri


Seventh Year, The Final Battle

Pain unlike anything he'd ever known streaked through Neville Longbottom's body. He arched with it, his wrists and ankles straining against the ropes that bound him to a tree in the midst of the Forbidden Forest. The only thing that penetrated the ceaseless torment was the hideous glee of Bellatrix Lestrange's cackle mixed with the inhuman sound of his own screams. Suddenly, the intensity of the agony diminished and Neville realized somewhere in the back of his pain-ravished mind that she'd stopped the curse for now. Breathless, he concentrated on not biting or swallowing his tongue even as his body continued to shake and twitch.

"What fun," Bellatrix drawled, her voice calm and unaffected as if she were on an evening stroll through Hogwarts' gardens. "You've proven much more satisfying than I'd thought. Your parents would be proud."

Neville glared at her since he couldn't yet speak. He was no stranger to suffering. It was a common factor of his daily life. Between the disappointment he was to his grandmother and the social awkwardness that had always plagued him, Neville knew what it was to hurt. Yet even the pain to which Bellatrix was now subjecting him didn't compared to humiliation he felt. She'd been at him for the last ten minutes, aiming the Cruciatus curse at him again and again until he'd lost control of his bowels and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. Each time the curse seemed to hurt more. Every muscle, every ounce of flesh felt like it was boiling, bubbling off his bones like so much molten wax. He knew it wasn't long now. Neither his body nor his mind could take much more. But if this woman, this evil, miserable bint of a woman who'd taken his parents from him, thought that he was going to beg then she was in for one hell of a surprise.

"Well?" Bellatrix taunted, coming closer to him. "Haven't you anything to say to me?"

Summoning all of his reserve, Neville stared her in the eye and said as succinctly as possible, "Sod off."

She merely laughed. "Foolish child. You should never antagonize your captor," she said as if giving him motherly advice. "It just makes them enjoy hurting you more." With that, she used the curse on him yet again.

Eyes rolling back, the top of his head pressing into the bark of the tree, Neville stopped fighting. He was either on the verge of death or insanity; he found that fighting made it worse. He didn't have enough strength left to hold off the inevitable anymore.

The pain ceased almost as soon as it had begun. His body sagging against the tree, he could just barely make out Hermione fighting off Bellatrix. It won't be long now, he thought. Maybe now this nightmare will end.

The ropes around his ankles fell away followed quickly by the ones binding his wrists. Neville fell forward into Ginny's arms. The sudden contact made him cry out—his body felt so raw. He wasn't surprised to see Ginny's hand covered in his blood when she pulled it back.

"We're here, Nev," she whispered urgently, handing him his wand as they edged passed the combatants. "We're going to get you out of here."

He didn't answer, preferring to concentrate on taking one step at a time without putting too much of his weight on her shoulders. They'd almost made it out of the clearing when he heard Bellatrix screech, "Impedimenta."

They turned in time to see Hermione fly backwards into a tree and crumple to the ground. Bellatrix rounded on them and directed the same spell at Ginny. She dodged it and yelled "Petrificus Totallus" as she aimed at Bellatrix's torso. Arms and legs snapping close to her body, she collapsed on the ground.

"Come on, Nev," Ginny urged as she guided them toward Hermione's collapsed form.

"No." He tried to pull out of her grasp.

She held on and stared at him. "Neville, come on. We have to get out of here."

He just shook his head. "See 'bout Mione," he muttered.

"But . . ."

"Go."

"But, Neville," Ginny pleaded, near tears.

Summoning what little remained of his strength, he pushed her toward their fallen friend, dropping to his knees in the process. "Go!"

Ginny hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave him. Staring wearily into her eyes, Neville whispered, "Please, go."

Reluctantly, she did as he asked.

Neville made no attempt to escape. He simply gave himself time to get his breath back while keeping one eye on Bellatrix and the other on Hermione and Ginny. He suspected Ginny's spell wouldn't last long enough for them all to escape.

Ginny had just managed to revive Hermione when Bellatrix staggered to her feet. As she aimed her wand at the pair, Neville shouted "NO!" Ginny ducked in time, but neither girl was in a position to fight back.

"Leave them alone," he demanded before sending a Disarming Charm her way. It missed.

Bellatrix's evil, furious glare swung to him. "You." She pointed her wand at him.

Neville was ready for her this time. With his wand aimed at her heart, he yelled "Stupefy" seconds before she yelled "Accio wand." She froze in place. His adrenaline already fading, Neville watched in fascination as his wand zoomed out of his hand straight through her black heart, shattering his spell.

A shocked, pained howl tore from Bellatrix's throat. Neville vaguely heard the girls' gasps as both he and Bellatrix fell unconscious to the ground.


Neville floated in and out of consciousness for the next four days. One moment he'd be out in the Herbology greenhouses with Professor Sprout and the next he'd be talking to his grandmother. Nothing seemed real. He wondered if he was dead or merely insane.

On the fifth day, a soft buzz of voices woke him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the hospital wing. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna sat around his bed, quietly talking amongst themselves. All of them but Ginny, who was wrapped in Ron's arms, and Luna, who was watching Neville.

"Hello," she said, her voice soft and ethereal as usual.

Four pairs of eyes snapped to his face. Neville squirmed a little, unused to so much concentrated attention. "Hello," he croaked. His throat was dry and scratchy.

Before he could ask, Hermione handed him a cup of water. "I'm so glad you're all right," she told him as he drank. "Madame Pomfrey said you would be but . . ." Her eyes clouded over as Harry hugged her from behind.

"You gave us all a scare," Ron said.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Then he cleared his throat. "So we won?"

"Yeah," Harry answered with a low chuckle. "Voldemort's gone."

Neville nodded slightly. They'd won though they were all a little worse for wear. One of Harry's arms was in a sling and his head was bandaged. Neville noticed his scar had disappeared. Both Hermione and Luna were covered with scratches in various stages of healing. Ron had an enormous bruise on the side of his face that had turned a sickly yellowish-green. Only Ginny appeared to be undamaged. Her eyes, however, blazed with fury as she watched him.

"Tell me," he asked as he turned his gaze from the youngest Weasley. Neville settled back against his pillows, letting them fill him in on what had happened. There'd been many casualties on both sides: Lupin, Moody, Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy, Professor McGonagall, and Peter Pettigrew among them. All of them considered it a miracle that they'd survived intact, especially Harry. Fatigue was tugging at him by the time they began telling him about Malfoy's death. Ron was almost done when Ginny whispered, "What were you thinking?"

Everyone hushed. It was the first time she'd spoken since Neville woke up. The quiet, trembling ferocity of her voice stunned them all.

"Why, Nev?" she demanded. "Why did you make me leave?"

Sinking further into his pillows, he closed his eyes. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Don't you dare go to sleep on me, Neville Longbottom," she practically roared.

"Gin," Ron admonished, clearly as shocked by her outburst as the others were.

She stood next to the bed, shaking from head to toe. Her gaze bore into Neville's weary face. "Do you have any idea how you sounded as she tortured you? Do you know how terrified I was that we'd be too late? That you'd be dead by the time we got to you? Then you just push me aside. Why?"

"It doesn't matter now, Ginny," he answered as sleep began to pull him under.

"It does to me."

He sighed. "You have a family, Ginny," Neville said quietly. "You have a lot of friends. Same with Hermione. They'd miss you."

"That doesn't explain anything."

Neville closed his eyes again as sleep overtook him. Just before he went under, he murmured, "They'd miss you. There's no one to miss me when I'm gone."