Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Also, chapter titles are Oasis songs; I don't own those, either.
Chapter Two: Stop Crying Your Heart Out
"Ginny? Come on, we have to get down to the grounds," Neville said, tapping Ginny's shoulder gently. She was wearing her black school robe but remained firmly planted in an armchair.
"I'm not going, Neville…I just…can't."
Neville looked around the empty common room; everyone else had already gone down to the funeral. "You need to say goodbye," he said softly.
After a few more encouraging words from Neville, Ginny finally nodded and followed him downstairs. Neville shielded his eyes from the bright sun as they emerged from the castle, wishing that the sky had chosen to be a little gloomier.
There was a large crowd, as Neville had expected. It looked as though all of wizarding Britain had shown up, from the Minister of Magic to the smallest magical children. Neville stood slightly in front of Ginny as he looked for familiar faces. It looked as though many of the students who had not returned to school after Dumbledore's death had even turned up for Harry's funeral, which he supposed was appropriate. He spotted his gran, who was surrounded by her large circle of friends, but decided to hold off speaking with her until he could find Ron and Hermione.
"There you are!" Neville turned to see Hermione rushing towards them. She looked rather tired and one side of her face was bruised, but she was otherwise fine. Hobbling behind her was Ron, who had, according to Ginny, crushed his foot almost completely in a duel with a Death Eater and would need crutches for a few weeks.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked, coming forward to give Ginny a hug.
"I've been better," she mumbled. "Neville had to drag me out of Gryffindor tower."
Ron shot his sister a comforting smile and locked eyes with Neville for just a moment. Suddenly, his face paled. "Oh no, it's those blasted Daily Prophet reporters again. Let's get out of here."
Ron and Hermione hurried towards the rest of the Weasley family as quickly as possible, but Ginny stayed put. She had a look of disgust on her face as she glanced over at the reporters, who looked to be hounding a woman with pink hair.
"Come on, the service is about to start. Your family is in the front row," Neville said, leading Ginny towards the rows of chairs. Ginny fell into a seat next to Bill, who was busy comforting a weepy woman Neville thought he recognized as Fleur Delacour. Shaking his head, Neville started back to sit with his gran, only to have Ginny tug on his sleeve.
"Stay," Ginny said quietly. Nodding, Neville took the seat next to her, and soon her head was resting on his shoulder.
This was even worse than Dumbledore's funeral, Neville quickly decided. Dumbledore, at least, had lived a long, full life, and Harry had not even been eighteen. He would never see his child…
Neville still wasn't sure quite what to make of that. For the time being, he was just trying to be a good friend to Ginny. He had sat up with her that first night after her mother visited, despite the fact that he should have been studying for his Charms NEWT. Ginny had spent much of that night worrying over whether she would be allowed to sit her NEWTS even if she had to miss her last year. Neville had quickly reminded her that Ron and Hermione had received permission to sit the exams in August and that surely she merited a special exemption just as much as they did.
Neville knew Ginny would need every advantage possible – there was such a stigma against unmarried mothers that it would be difficult for her to find a good job unless her test scores were fantastic. Neville smiled suddenly, imagining the look on Hermione's face when she learned of the conservative wizarding world attitudes surrounding Ginny's situation, but then he remembered he was at a funeral.
He had spent so much time thinking about Ginny, in fact, Neville had missed most of the service. The person speaking didn't seem to have known Harry, as he mostly talked about Harry's heroic deeds and accomplishments. Neville didn't find that to be completely appropriate, and judging from the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces they didn't, either.
Glancing at Ginny, Neville noticed that her hand was resting lazily on her abdomen and her gaze was fixed on Harry's funeral bier. His body bore no markings of the injuries Neville knew he must have sustained, and he was dressed in black school robes over black trousers and a lumpy green jumper. He was partially covered with what looked like a silken Gryffindor Quidditch banner.
The speaker motioned for those who had known Harry well to come lay flowers on the bier. Neville rose unsteadily, feeling extremely uncomfortable as a bawling Hagrid fell to his knees. After several awkward moments, Hagrid finally moved to the side with one last blubbering wail. The members of the Weasley family filed past next, each whispering their goodbyes.
Ron and Hermione paused in front of Harry together, their hands clasped tightly. Hermione gingerly laid a white lily amongst the folds of red and gold fabric. She whispered words Neville couldn't hear, but he noticed that they caused Ron to smile slightly through his tears.
Luna was next; her usually bright eyes glimmering with tears. "You'll be okay, Harry," she said in her matter-of-fact way. "Your family is waiting for you…and if you see my mum, tell her Daddy and I found a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Neville smiled despite himself as Ginny detached from his hand and approached the bier. She leaned in closely and kissed Harry's forehead. She seemed to be whispering something, but Neville couldn't make it out. Wiping her eyes, Ginny brushed a bit of Harry's hair back from his face. Her brother Fred (or George, Neville could never tell) led her away, leaving Neville by himself.
He set down his flower quickly and stepped back, unsure of what to say. "I know no one could ever take your place, but I promise I'll protect her," he said softly, feeling resolved to the idea he had pondered earlier. "I'll do anything I can to keep them safe, Harry…always."
They spread Harry's ashes on the Quidditch pitch later that evening. The group was much smaller now; mostly Order members and Hogwarts staff. The house elves had set up a buffet table of sorts, and everyone lingered around telling stories of Harry and nibbling on bits of food.
Neville sat on the grass with Ron, Hermione, Luna and the Weasley twins. Ginny had separated from the group almost immediately, claiming she needed time to think and be alone.
"I just wish I knew what to do for her," Hermione said miserably. "I mean…I remember when Harry made his will, because I remember being so mad at him for even thinking of such a thing…and she'll get a good share of his money, but money can't fix everything."
"You know, it's a good thing Harry's already dead, or we might have been forced to kill him," one of the twins said solemnly, but he was grinning. "At least he didn't die a virgin."
"George!" Hermione exclaimed in disbelief as she thwacked the back of his head, which earned a chuckle from Fred.
"Too bad, really," Luna said offhandedly. "If you die a virgin you can be reincarnated. The spirit world is always looking for pure souls to reintroduce to the world of the living at opportune moments."
Ron choked on his pumpkin juice as Fred and George fell over laughing. Hermione was obviously trying to look offended, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Shaking his head, Neville decided to find Mr. Weasley.
The Weasley patriarch was standing on the edge of the crowd, speaking with Professor Lupin. Lupin still looked more distressed than anyone save Ginny, but his face did not have the same ashen look it had held during the actual funeral. Apparently, Lupin had been good friends with Harry's parents, so Neville could understand why he was so upset. He probably felt like he had let them down, or something - a feeling Neville was all too familiar with.
Neville was just close enough to overhear the two talking, and he didn't want to interrupt, so he lingered near the table and helped himself to another strawberry tart while still straining to listen.
"-not concerned about the will, really. I assume Molly told you of the…complication?" Lupin nodded, and Mr. Weasley sighed. "Frankly, the Ministry's attitude does not worry me so much as the remaining Death Eaters do."
"I agree," Lupin said. "According to Tonks, Auror intelligence indicates that those left will be hungry for revenge. It's not like last time – we generally know who the real, dangerous Death Eaters are. They have nothing to gain by pretending they had been hoodwinked, because the Ministry is smarter this time. I mean, we're dealing with people who have already done time in Azkaban. Bellatrix Lestrange, for one, is still out there."
Bellatrix Lestrange! That definitely settled it, Neville decided. He moved a little closer.
"The trick is going to be keeping the baby's paternity a secret from them," Mr. Weasley was saying. "Everyone who was at Hogwarts last year knew about Ginny and Harry, from what Ron tells me. I just don't know how to pass the child off as someone else's without actually having a 'someone else' in the picture. But I doubt Ginny would agree to that, and I have no idea where we could find a willing young man, anyway."
Lupin opened his mouth to respond, then promptly shut it again, noticing Neville. "Did you need to speak with one of us, Neville?" he asked.
Neville looked nervously between his old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and the kind-faced Mr. Weasley. He summoned up his courage and went for it. "I was thinking, earlier, about Ginny, and I decided – with your permission, of course…and if she agrees – that I want to marry her."
Mr. Weasley and Lupin glanced at each other, identical expressions of shock on their faces. "Where did you get that idea, Neville?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"Well, sir, I've honestly been thinking about it since…that night after the battle…and hearing you talk now just made me more sure. I would do anything to protect Ginny; she has become one of my closest friends, especially this past year," Neville said plainly, thankful his voice did not shake.
Mr. Weasley looked at Neville curiously, as though he were trying to learn something. "Do you love her?"
Gulping, Neville thought carefully about his response. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt to Ginny – he had liked her since fifth year – but he had always thought it would never go anywhere. She was meant to be with someone else.
"I do love Ginny, sir," Neville said finally, "but I mostly just want her to be happy. I know she loved Harry and would have been happy with him…and I would have been glad for them."
Lupin had an almost proud smile on his face, which Neville appreciated. He had always liked Professor Lupin.
Mr. Weasley was still regarding him thoughtfully. "Would you raise the child as your own?"
"Of course," Neville said.
Mr. Weasley's face at least broke into a grin. "If Ginny agrees…you have my blessing. You truly are a noble Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom."
Neville felt his face turning pink, but he couldn't help a wide smile from forming. He didn't think he had ever received a nicer compliment.
Ginny sat at the edge of the Quidditch pitch underneath one of the goal posts, replaying the night Harry came to visit in her mind. They hated even been dating, really - they had barely talked all year, since he hadn't come back to school and she had been cast off like...a little sister. She had understood why he had to leave, but that hadn't stopped her from being mad at him. The speed with which her resolve had melted the instant he reappeared in her life still surprised her. She didn't regret it, and she knew she couldn't resent her child for existing, but she would have given anything for things to have turned out differently.
"Ginny? May I talk to you for a moment?" Hermione asked, breaking into her reverie.
"I figured you would come to pester me at some point," Ginny said as Hermione sat on the ground next to her. They sat in silence for awhile as Ginny continued to pick at bits of grass.
"I'm worried about you," Hermione said finally. "You have to talk to someone. This isn't healthy, especially since – "
"I will talk when I want to. You have absolutely no idea what I feel right now," Ginny said through clenched teeth.
"You're right, I don't, but I'm trying to underst – "
"You can't understand!" Ginny cried. "I am sixteen years old and I'm going to have the child of the Savior of the Wizarding World, or whatever else fool title they have given him. I can't give the child his name, and I probably won't finish school, and the Ministry will most likely go all Dark Ages on me. But you know what makes me the most angry?" Ginny paused, cursing the grief and hormones that had started the tears again. Hermione looked certifiably gobsmacked by her outburst, but she made no move to comment.
"He knew. He knew he was going to die, and I was too stupid to see it. I should have been there, should have stopped him – but that would have been selfish. And I hate myself for being angry with him, for doing what he had to do, for being what I loved him for…because he didn't think about what this would do to me."
Ginny held her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She felt Hermione inching closer, finally wrapping her in a comforting embrace.
"You know," Hermione said thoughtfully, "Harry did get very fatalistic towards the end, but his spirit changed drastically after he visited Hagrid in April. Ron and I assumed he was going to say goodbye, but he came back with a renewed focus…an optimism I had not seen in him before. It was as though he had found a reason for living…it all makes so much sense now." Hermione grasped Ginny's hands and looked her straight in the eye. "He would have wanted you to be happy."
Turning, Ginny faced the sunset, admiring the brilliant colors shining across the Scottish countryside. "I know," she said solemnly.
A/N: I snuck some of Ginny's POV in there at the end, which will happen occasionally as the story progresses. Please review; I love feedback!