If the Hufflepuffs can.
By Heaven's Flying Fish.
Disclaimer: All hail J.K. She is the queen and mighty ruler of wizarding Britain.
Summary: Neville discovers his worth whilst observing the gallant Hufflepuffs in the final battle. oneshot
A/N: written for Cherenmay. She told me to write about the worthiness of Hufflepuffs (or something like that ;) ) and this is what I've got. I'd like to apologise in advance, as I have NEVER written anything like this before. But, you know. Like I said to her at the time, it's a challenge.
o:o:o
Dirt billowed everywhere. Through the unnatural fog, sparks of light could be seen. Mostly green or red – Avada Kedavra and Cruciatus. Shrieks of pain from both sides. Shoes were scuffling, robes were billowing. Robes were tearing.
The dust settled a little. Harry was battling with Voldemort.
'Leave him to me!' Harry shouted. Afraid and uneasy, no one replied. 'To me! No one else may touch him! I wish to see you all alive, and I won't, if you go and die on me!'
No one pointed out that this was quite obvious; no one would be alive if they went and died. Not one person said anything though, because they knew Harry Potter was serious. They knew that Harry Potter was at his wits' end and he wasn't to be expected to make sense.
Blood dripped from Harry's scar. He was clearly in pain, but he said nothing except for the occasional curse and defensive spell.
A fresh cloud of sand blew up in front of Neville and he was forced to look away. His eyes sought out another friend, looking for something familiar in the uncertain chaos around him. There was Hermione, her bushy brown hair swept about her face. She took on three larger, older and more deadly foes than herself – but between the three of them they had not as much loyalty, not as much courage and definitely not as much brain power. She was sweaty and dirt-smeared, but she wasn't going to stop.
'Ronald! If you dare get yourself killed, I'll bring you back to life so your mother can deal with you!' Hermione's glare was powerful and scary. She bore down on her red-headed friend until he agreed weakly. 'I'm never going to stop if you go down, you know,' she sniffed haughtily. Ron giggled nervously and she rounded on him again. 'I mean it, Ronald! If you go down – which, as I said before, you'd better not! – I'm not stopping for you, you understand?'
'Yes, Hermione.' He daren't say anything contrary to that, or else he may just have found himself dead before the battle even began.
Neville's eyes skipped through the crowds, searching for the telltale red hair on the tall top of his friend's head. He was there, fighting close to his father. Arthur was tired – he was over fifty, after all – and Ron was there to make sure nothing happened to him.
'Ronald!' Ron groaned as he heard his full name being used for the umpteenth time that day.
'Yes, mother?' He tried to smile.
'What's wrong, dear? Are you ill? Is it nerves? Are you hurt?' Mrs Weasley demanded as she eyed his ugly grimace.
'No, mum. I'm perfectly fine.'
'Well, you shouldn't be! You should be stressing, just like the rest of us! Think of Harry! He has plenty of things to worry about – what, with the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders!'
'No pressure, mate,' Ron mumbled to Harry, who was standing beside him. They cracked grins.
'This is no laughing matter, Ronald Weasley! Your father, the senseless fool he is, is going out there today, and I want him back! Do you understand, Ronald? If you let anything happen to him, I'll let Hermione know where all of her washing's been disappearing off to!'
'Mum!' Ron shouted, scandalised, though his ears were glowing an alarming shade of crimson. Harry laughed.
'No pressure, mate.'
Neville coughed as he backed away from the blast of stones and rocks that shot out of the ground in front of him. He shot curses blindly out into the crowd, before stopping, as he realised he'd probably been getting in a few of his own side in his frantic spell throwing.
'I'm for Herbology, not this!' He mumbled, as he aimed a stunning spell at a Death Eater. It was so weak it didn't even dint his cloak. He sighed. He belonged in Hufflepuff. He was terrible at spells, he wasn't brave or chivalrous. That whole spectacle in the common room in first year was blown completely out of proportion, and he only got in the way at the ministry in fifth-year. Got blood all over the floor, too. He was completely insensitive when he questioned Harry about Sirius after he'd fallen through the veil. He was such a disappointment – his parents had been so brave and wonderful, as his grandmother often reminded him.
Be proud of them, she said. How could he be proud of his parents if the only things he ever did around them was blush and stammer? How could he be proud of them if he knew he was such a failure? Such a worthless candidate for their affections?
He saw a Cruciatus being sent his way and it sparked something within him. With a feral roar he deflected it back to his attacker and he was surprised to hear the agonising shrieks as it hit its mark. Neville returned to his watching.
There was a Hufflepuff, but she was fighting bravely. Susan, her name was – Susan Bones. She fearlessly faced two Death Eaters, both with more than a head of height on top of her.
Well, she's not a normal Hufflepuff, Neville reasoned, looking around for the next yellow house-member. Another girl, Hannah Abbot. She was very nice, and quite pretty. She ducked under a Cruciatus curse shot at her, but one caught her from behind.
Neville yelled. Throwing a quick body bind jinx at her attacker, he watched, amazed as she stood up, yelled thank you into the melee and continued to fight.
Neville shook his head. It wasn't normal. Where were the cowardly, quiet, friendly people Hufflepuffs were known as? Here, there were only proud fighting machines, concentrating and determined, not one backing away.
Ernie Macmillan, bleeding from a wound on his arm and one in his leg, still fought boldly against the enemy. Why did they have so much Gryffindor courage? Where was his? How come Neville didn't have the stamina or will to be like the mighty Hufflepuffs?
Behind Ernie, a Death Eater raised his wand.
"AVADA –"
"STUPEFY!" Neville screamed, knocking the Death Eater flat.
"Gee, thanks, Nev'," Ernie said, breathless. "You just saved my –" he deflected another curse " –life!"
Neville, disbelieving, smiled weakly, before returning to the fray. That was right! He'd saved Ernie's life! Harry, Nan – even Mum and Dad – they'd have to be proud now! And Hannah – he'd blocked the Cruciatus for her – that'd definitely make Nan happy.
Neville, in something akin to a second wind, swelled with pride. He stepped up close to Ernie and Hannah, fencing the gap between them. Both shot him grateful smiles and he returned them.
Fiercely, with many hexes, jinxes and charms, they fought, side by side. If he was going down today, he was going down a hero. A hero for himself. He'd achieved what his grandmother always wanted – to have a worthwhile grandson – and he'd achieved what he'd wanted for almost all of his time at Hogwarts. Fighting with purpose and with pride – and with positive results.
Because, Neville knew, as the dust puffed and swirled about him and his friends, if the Hufflepuffs can do it – so can I.
o:o:o
o:o:o
Lo! The Queen of endings of Abruptness cometh! Hail Queen of Quick Conclusions!
…Everyone bows as I walk through a corridor of flowers and other lovely things. Of course, being one for short and speedy finishings, the corridor ends at a cliff, I fall off and splatter on the ground below.
Whoo! I got it finished! Thanks to Cherenmay – and I hope it's what you wanted!