Meh. It's not great, but, hey! It's longer! This is actually a one-shot that tied itself up in the first scene and became a drabble. shrug Whatever, I guess. Happy reading!
Neville: The End of Things
Neville had never been so scared in all his life, not during any of his magical misadventures, nor during Fifth Year, as a member of the underground DA. Even that night in the Ministry, when he'd come up against a crowd of deatheaters for the first time, a night that he'd always said to be his most frightening, had he ever felt this sort of terror. Every footstep that pounded on the stone floor as they ran caused his heart to beat faster. Every yell or scream he heard up ahead terrified him so much that he wasn't sure he could go on. He wanted to cry, wanted to run away, wanted out. This wasn't right. This wasn't the war he'd signed up for. Everything was going wrong.
And they were going to die.
The corridors were dark, and, looking over the others, he could see that they felt it too, that feeling of overwhelming terror. Somewhere in the crowd, a girl was sobbing softly and the sound bounced off the black stone surrounding them, making it seem as if the very walls were crying out to them. Next to him, he could barely make out the form of Ginny Weasley, whose eyes were shut and whose hands were clasped. Maybe she was praying, Neville thought. Merlin knew they would need all the prayer they could get. The night was calling for blood, and she knew it, as did they all. Tonight, sins had to be atoned for. Sacrificed had to be made. People had to die.
"Well," he whispered, hoping he sounded collected. "We're going in. On the count of three, everyone."
"One."
Ginny opened her eyes and readied herself. The sobbing girl in the back quieted. Luna Lovegood put her hair up, humming sadly to herself, Amazing Grace, he thought.
"Two."
Hannah Abbott kissed Ernie Macmillan on the cheek, while Justin Finch-Fletchley crossed himself silently. Luna stopped humming, whispering a quiet "Amen". And as he clenched his eyes shut, preparing to throw the doors open, Neville thought that maybe, just maybe, he had been wrong. Maybe they should retreat, save themselves and leave the others to deal with the battle alone. Maybe they could run, and maybe they could live, and maybe, maybe he would be able to rewind it all and pretend... pretend...
No. He was a Gryffindor, and right now, bravery was what he needed. This was war. What was that they said? "In war, only cowards survive," wasn't it? What was that book? It'd been his favorite once. He'd loved the way it had painted war. So "real", he'd thought. Of course, he knew now how ridiculous the whole thing was. He'd lived through it, and war wasn't as glamorous as everyone made it out to be. Still, it had been a wonderful book. Now, what was it that had happened in the end? Oh, yes. He remembered.
"Three."
4-4-05
