CHAPTER 2 - ghostling
Neville woke up with a groan. His heart was still beating fast and his breathing was still shallow and slightly painful, so he knew that he had not been out for long. He was alive at least. Neville couldn't see anything but darkness, but he could hear the hoarse moaning and coughing of Lord Voldemort, and he could feel the blood gathering by his knees. The blood was thick and flowing, trickling past his legs and against a stone wall that marked one end of wherever he had ended up.
Neville reached instinctively for the sword that he had become so attached to, and felt it instantly enter his palms. With a bit of a sigh, he looked around the cavernous surroundings, listening for something other than the panting of a dying man (he hoped so at least) or the running of water. Yes, he could at least deduce he was near a body of water, the sea from what his nose told him was the small of salt.
Sliding up to his feet, he caught the glint of bright, white teeth, and from there Neville managed to make out the body of his enemy, still pulsing with desperate breathe, engorged in a pool of black red. He instinctively cocked his sword, pointing it in front of him as he took two steps closer. "Voldemort?"
There was no response from the figure, just the continuing panting.
"Answer, or I'll kill you now." His voice was shaky. Neville hadn't had the liberty to compose himself in hours, but now that he was out of the battlefield, he truly knew who he was facing. But the sword was still in his hands, and so he still had courage. "Voldemort!" The sword was now stationed at Voldemort's neck as Neville looked down, eyes still struggling to adjust to the darkness.
Still, there was no response. "Lumos." The room suddenly lit into view as Neville remembered the fact that he was a wizard and still had his wand with him. He was in what appeared to be a cave of the coast of the ocean, somewhere in northern England. The rock walls could tell him that much. Far in the distance he could see what was an opening, leading outside, but it was still dark out so he could not make out much more than maybe the wavey shimmering of the sea.
The body in front of him coughed and hacked, and Neville quickly drew his eyes back onto his enemy. "Answer! Voldemort. Tom Riddle?" Neville pressed the sword forwards, cutting slightly into the tissue of the neck. I better kill him now while I have the chance. He shuddered, feeling a cold breeze. Despite the previous battle, he was still not a killer. It's the sword. Let the sword finish him, you're just a vessel for it to accomplish it's will. Yes, that's a much better way to look at it.
"Well, are you going to do it or not?" Neville jumped at the soft voice of a boy and immediately caught sight of an elegant silver shimmer in the distance. About 10 meters.
"Who are you?"
"You called for me. I'm Tom, Tom Riddle." A small boy with jet black hair and sharp eyes stepped forward, lighting up the walls around him. He was a ghost, it appeared, and Neville relaxed slightly at this.
"Why am I here?"
"I don't know. Hey, is that me?"
Neville's eyes shot up towards the those of the young boy, and the kid smiled. He had something in his fingers, a flat rock it looked like. "That is Tom Riddle. Voldemort." Neville's voice was barely more than a squeak, but his eye contact remained steady. The panting from Voldemort, the adult one, was dying down, but he made no move.
The kid's eyes darkened as he looked down upon the bloody form. "What a pathetic way to die? Well, aren't you going to try to save him?"
"I'm going to let him die."
"He'll never die just like that you know. I can tell. He'll hang on to life until the instant it is forced out of him."
"Then I will kill him with this sword."
"Ahh, the Sword of Gryffindor! Amazing." Riddle's eyes glowed with appreciation as he saw the sword, fingers clasping together to suppress his pleasure. "Then it's not such a pathetic way to go after all." Then the kid smiled knowingly, looking at Neville with what looked a little like awe. "So you must be Harry Potter."
Neville didn't know how to take this apparition of what appeared to be Voldemort as a child. Surely he was an enemy. He ignored the ghost's false inference and instead asked his own pressing question. "Who are you? Why are you here?"
"I'm like a memory. Really, just an imprint of a memory, from this guy's past." He gestured to the fallen form of Voldemort. "When he was a child, he visited this site, and…" He paused, but a dark look went over his face as he frowned. "And he did something terrible, leaving me here as a memento. Then, years later he returned and he found me, and he did something to me to preserve me. In return, I accessed his memories to that point, as if I had lived them myself. It was horrible. I can't believe what I did back then. And from your presence, I can only think that it has been worse since then," he finished off glumly.
Neville was confused but remained silent, as silent as Voldemort now was. The situation didn't seem as dangerous anymore from the way the ghost talked, but he was still scared of something. He didn't know what exactly, but he had a suspicion that it would disappear once he got the courage to sever Voldemort's neck himself.
The child ghost continued talking. "It was like he dumped all his remorse on me or something, because after that moment we met he exclaimed that he felt free. And I felt a heavy burden on me, from everything I had done in my, and by extension his, past." He gestured once more to Voldemort. "Through this I learned about Dumbledore and the Death Eaters and what this version of me, free of remorse, would be free to do. It must have been horrible."
"But why am I here?" Neville spoke with a bit of new energy.
"I don't know, but I can find out. Here, let me access his memories and I can tell you everything that's in his mind." He stepped forward but stopped as Neville reacted tentatively. "Don't worry, once I'm done giving you your answers, Potter, I'll let you kill the son-of-a-bitch a thousand times. I've been looking forward to my freedom too, you know."
Neville relaxed and watched as the ghost stepped forward and placed a finger to Voldemort's bloody temple. He really was a sad sight now, Neville caught himself thinking. Like an old man, hanging on to his last breathe of life in desperation, struggling and undoubtedly suffering. Then let him.
When the boy stepped back his face was hardened but betrayed how horrified he was. He was just a kid after all, physically. "It was a special human ward he set up. It would detect the killing curse, or a curse that would ultimately end his life, and would be set up to automatically apparate him to a safe location of his specification. In this case, it was here. You must have been in physical contact with him when somebody set the killing curse on him ,and that's why you are here. His body brought you here like a portkey would. Also, he could not fully avoid the killing curse but it was supposed to be enough to grant him another chance at life, without relying on a previously set up horcrux. The fact that he's barely hanging on to life as well as the blood leads me to believe it is your sword that finished him. And what a sword it is, if his memories of that battle are true."
The way he recounted this information was almost robotic, with a tinge of awe right at the end. It was obvious that he had wished he could have lived and experienced the memories as himself, and that his life as an 'imprint of a memory' had saddened him immensely.
"It was Harry Potter that sent the killing curse. I'm not him. I'm-"
"Yes you're Longbottom, I know that now. Harry doesn't look much like you now that I think about it. He came by here with Dumbledore about a year back, but I didn't confront them. I've always hated that fool Dumbledore."
A silence passed over them as Neville said nothing. The boy spoke first. "So what are you going to do now?"
"I'm going to kill him, and you're going to disappear. Right?"
"If all the other horcruxes have been destroyed as I- Wait! Harry Potter should be dead!"
"What?"
"According to the memories of Voldemort, he should be dead. He sacrificed himself to destroy the horcrux that was placed in him." The ghost looked scared now, almost apprehensive. "Longbottom, go on and kill me. That me. If I disappear, all the horcruxes are gone and Tom Riddle is gone from your world forever. If I don't disappear, then there is a part of me, him, that lies in Harry. If Harry still lives, the horcrux has not been destroyed. Yes, when Voldemort 'killed' Harry… I don't understand it. I don't understand his memories." He was rambling now, eyes alight with fear as he stared at the corpse of Voldemort, the still-barely-alive corpse.
"Tom Riddle! This is important. You're saying that if you don't disappear, then it is possible that Harry houses a part of Voldemort? Like a horcrux?"
"Not only would it be possible, it would be the only possible explanation. You'll have to kill Harry Potter. But you can do it, you don't have that problem with the blood magic and the wands like he did."
Neville was shocked as he stared at the young ghost. Here he was, no older than 7 or 8, maybe even younger, and he was telling him that Harry might have to be killed. This can't be how it has to be… I will kill Voldemort, I will tell Shacklebolt Riddle's suspicions, and that is all. They will deal with it, adults with countless years more experience. They will accept the responsibility and I will be done. Simple.
"Ok, leave it to me." Neville pulled back the sword, bracing it for a sharp swing downwards. "Are you ready? Any last words?"
The ghost suddenly looked calm as he glanced appreciatively at Neville. "Thank you. If I disappear here then I will leave with the thought that your Tom Riddle no longer terrorizes your world, and that is all I need to move on. However if I don't, I fear my suffering will continue and I fear that I may not be able to keep control of my situation. I cannot be used as a vessel for his soul, but if Voldemort, your Voldemort, enters me in any way, then I may not be able to resist. Not forever. I will need you to kill Harry Potter at the first instant, for the sake of your world. Please."
Neville began to bring the sword down, but was interrupted.
"Oh and one more thing, I'm sorry."
"Your apology is worth nothing." The sword came down swiftly on Voldemort's neck, severing the head with little resistance.
"And the heart," the ghost whispered weakly, hands covering his face but eyes still managing to peak through. There were no tears but Neville imagined that if he could cry he would. Such a young kid unable to cry, he really was a sad case. Avenge him by finishing his creator.
A hard swing against Voldemort's chest caused ribs to explode and blood to geyser out violently, and Neville knew he had driven the sword through the heart as he could feel the sword relax in his hands. Light disappeared from Voldemort's eyes one last time as he lay splayed on the hard rock of the cavern. He looked pitiful in death,terrified and almost human, as if the monstrosities he had committed were nothing compared to what he was to face in death
But Neville was just as terrified, for one small ghost remained.
Harry shook as the lights suddenly began to die down. The field that lay in front of him, littered with blood and bone, was receding into darkness as the familiar sound of apparition consumed him. They were disappearing, retreating at the first sign of their Master's defeat. The Death Eaters were retreating! Harry found himself on his knees as a light hand settled on his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze as it looked into his face.
"Harry, its over. You did it." Her voice was weak and hoarse, but a smile lit up her face nevertheless. Her short blonde hair was singed and spread haphazardly across her face. "Really Harry, you did it!"
"Where's Neville? Where's Voldemort for fuck's sake?" Harry knew his voice sounded ugly, and his face even worse as he grimaced with every movement, forcing himself to his feet. He pushed Tonks backwards as his eyes widened and focused, looking everywhere for signs of his friend and his enemy. "Where did they go?" Screamed Harry.
By now, Kingsley Shacklebolt had made his way over to Harry, supported by Arthur Weasley on one side. "The Death Eaters are retreating, there is no doubt that Voldemort has been defeated. Harry, you must tell us everything that happened here. Tell us, where is Neville?"
His cool voice managed to temper Harry instantly, who stumbled into Tonks' arms. "Neville," he said quietly. "I think I killed Neville too! Look, I was using the Elder wand," he exclaimed, dropping it instantly as if it was a dark object. "What if my curse was too powerful and killed Neville?"
"What curse did you use?" Asked Arthur.
"The killing curse," squeaked Harry. "But I aimed it at Voldemort, he was choking Neville, and the sword was in him. Neville was killing Voldemort, we both did, but where's Neville?"
"Rambling isn't helping, Harry," spoke Kingsley softly.
"When I hit Voldemort with the killing curse, they both disappeared. Like an apparition, but I know it hit him, I just know it!"
Tonks passed Harry off to a stronger Charlie Weasley, who had come bolting from the castle, as she stumbled to the ground and relaxed, her legs barely able to keep her up. "Thanks," she muttered with a frown.
"Everyone is to come inside instantly," Charlie spoke. "Mcgonogall and a couple others have gone after Snape in the Shrieking Shack, and the Malfoys are under the watch of about 50 people, so all enemies remaining are under control." Harry looked over and saw a stream of what appeared to be healers and medical staff from St. Mungo's streaming out of the castle, approaching every fallen wizard in the hopes of saving a life or two.
"Uhh, Snape, he helped me. At the last moment he went against the Death Eaters and helped me out," Harry stumbled with his words as he felt his mind thinking ruthlessly.
"Yes we have a sneaking suspicion, Luna actually. She told us that Neville thought that Snape waa worth saving if possible and to find him in the Shriekin Shack as soon as the battle concluded.
"Does anyone know where Neville is?" Arthur Weasley spoke out.
"What, he's gone?" Charlie sounded shocked as he looked around the group. "We couldn't see much from the castle, we all saw Harry come out, we saw the green light," he winked slightly towards Harry, who only grimaced. "But its as if Neville disappeared, I was hoping he just got lost in the trees or something."
"No, he disappeared. Harry go into the castle with everyone else. One of you stay here. Charlie. The rest of you go and we'll return once we comb this area for hints to where Neville went to." Kingsley's authoritative voice rang out among the group and everyone listened as they made their way back to the castle.
Harry trudged along, wishing he could just disappear. But he knew he had to face it all. God he wished everyone was alright. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Lupin, everyone. But he knew it wouldn't work out that way, that's just how war was. His big concern, though, was Neville. If he had killed him he would never forgive himself. Sure the wizarding world would forgive him, maybe even his friends, like Ginny, but that would all be a lie. Why did it have to end like this?
A loud cheer rang through the castle as Harry stepped into the Great Hall. He looked to his left and saw tears streaming down Tonks' face as she cracked a wide smile, while Arthur Weasley quickly hurried off towards his family, which Harry noticed had not joined into the celebrations. Ginny, in particular, looked ragged as she snuggled against her mother, both with red circles around their crusted eyes, which were threatening to tear up for what Harry knew was not the first time that night.
Tonks scampered off towards her mother, engulfing her in a tight hug as the tears continued to rain. But Harry just stood there. He had nowhere to go, no family to embrace or comfort and no more friends to save. It was over, his role was finished. And he had failed miserable. Neville was gone; Neville, who had taken all the students of Hogwarts onto his back and forced them through the ordeal that he had not been around for. Who had been jestingly proclaimed King of the DA, which he shyed away from but eventually grew into. And now he was dead, all thanks to him.
Where was Hermione? And Ron? And then it hit him. Why Tonks had been so emotional, had cried so easily. "Lupin?" Harry looked over the Great Hall rapidly, looking for any sign of who he thought of as his most trusted adult. When he caught Tonks's eyes and mouthed the word 'Lupin', he knew. He was gone. Harry felt sick. He sat at a table, and leaned into his arms as he felt hot tears gushing out. And this was just the start, wasn't it?
Two hours, and a thousand hugs and words of solace later, the doors to the Great Hall swung open and in stepped a sheepish Charlie Weasley, a powerful-looking and beaming Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a haggard and dejected Neville Longbottom.
Kingsley exclaimed: "Voldemort has been vanquished! It has been confirmed, he is gone forever!" Charlie flashed a wide smile and even Neville's eyes lit up in joy as a loud roar echoed throughout the Great Hall, and the fire of celebration lit up wizarding England!
END OF CHAPTER 2
[A/N: I guess I decided to continue with my idea, so here it is. See, I saved Tonks, more on that later. As for Snape, I'm still not sure what to do with him. Will he live or be found dead? Or something in between, honestly I don't know yet. Suggestions are always helpful. Fred is dead, hence the Weasley mourning. But Neville is alive! Yay lol. Anyways tell me what you think if you read it. Keep in mind I havent edited it or anything, and so far it is all rather rushed so it might be a bit sloppy. If this ends up as a longer story then I will most likely return and edit these first 2 chapters. We'll see. Anyways, reviews plssss! ]