InsaneJournal

Logan Stebbins & Tabitha Vance

Having stuck as close to her father as possible throughout the battle was the only way Tabitha had gotten through it in one piece and she knew it. Staying behind had been a stupid idea, but she didn't regret it. Had things gone a different way, she might have felt otherwise, but she was here, her dad was here, even Sarah and Eli had gotten through the battle in one piece. It was sort of an amazing thought, even if when she remembered that Colin hadn't made it out...

Tabitha breathed out a sigh. She was sitting on one of the stairs near the bottom of the staircase that led to the entrance hall. From there, she could see everyone milling about, the rubble, the shambles that the school had been left in. She was waiting for her father so they could go home and she could shower for the next two days, but she was too exhausted to follow him around anymore as he talked to different people. The war was over and she had always thought that this moment would be a time for celebration, but instead it had just left her exhausted.

Exhausted, but not exhausted enough to sleep. Not when she still needed to know if people she loved were all right. Colin had died, she knew that. But from where she was perched, she could see everyone as they walked around, making mental notes as to who she saw and who she didn't. It was a stressful hobby, but she was too tired to move somewhere else.

Logan was a mess. Not psychologically, or at least not yet. He'd probably have a few bad moments of reflection later, but for now he was just a physical mess. His jeans were torn, his robes mostly burnt off, his hair plastered around his head, dirt, soot smudges, dried blood, even a few things a master potioneer might have trouble identifying were caked around his body. He saw Tabitha sitting on a step and every bit of weariness lifted from his shoulders. She was all right. That was plaguing him. He saw her only briefly during the hour of respite they had to collect their fallen friends and each of them were at the time too busy helping everyone and mourning where they could.

It had been a rough night. It would probably be another rough couple of years, but honestly? It was still going to be better than this one. There were a lot of heroes tonight, not just Harry Potter. Logan angled towards his girlfriend and hoped she didn't mind how completely arse he looked. He still had Timothy Nott's wand in his hand - not to mention the Death Eater's blood that had dried in the crags of his hand after he dropped the sword, no matter how much wiping he tried on his robes. Would that blood ever come off?

With a heavy sigh, he collapsed next to her and as if there hadn't been some insane battle for the future of the Wizarding world around them for the last few hours, he opened up the conversation the way they always tended to over the journals. "Hi."

With Logan there, at her side, Tabitha did something that she felt like she hadn't done for ages -- she smiled. Not just any smile, but the bright one that lit up her face. He was all right. Other people weren't and that made her heart ache, but Logan was all right. It seemed like they had defeated all odds to just be sitting there, which she was more than a little all right with.

"Hey," she replied, obviously not noticing or caring what state he was in as she reached for his hand and tucked in close to him. After all, it wasn't as though she was much better. Her hair was in a ponytail, some of it singed off and the ends blackened. Her face was smudged with Merlin only knew what, but still she smiled. "I, um. Er." She chuckled, realizing that she had no idea what else to say. "Yeah, just hey."

Even after a day like this one, Tabitha could still make Logan smile. And no matter what anyone might say, that was a good thing. He wasn't going to try and ask her how she was doing, or what she went through, or even how she felt. Because honestly, it wasn't something that needed to be addressed right now or even thought of. At least not until they'd had time to relax, get something to eat, maybe some sleep. Take a shower.

"I think I'm going to need to buy new robes," he finally said, a bit off-handedly. He leaned in closer to her and tucked the wands into his pocket before picking at the remnants of what used to be a decent robe. Bits of his pajamas were showing, since that was all he was wearing before they all got called to the Great Hall. The little shooting stars design really clashed with the outfit, now that he thought about it.

"Me too," Tabitha replied with a little laugh, looking down from his robes to her own. She had noticed that he had more than one wand, but she didn't really want to talk about how he got them both right now. For all she knew, it might have belonged to another one of their friends that had died and she didn't really know if she could handle anymore news like that. So, instead, she just leaned into Logan and looked up at him.

And then, because she couldn't help herself, didn't care if either of them were dirty, and just needed to because dear Merlin they lived through a battle. So, she reached up with a hand, put it on his cheek, and stole a kiss.

---

Noah Bole & Lucy Bragge

It was impossible to believe. The amount of destruction, the bodies still laying awkwardly about the grounds, the sounds of families screaming for their loved ones. It was a terrible combination of elation and grief, but Lucy refused to stop and pay attention to it. Noah had made her leave the castle, yes, but there was no way he’d ever have been able to make her leave Hogsmeade when she knew he was still here, fighting.

The second she’d heard the news Lucy had come running. If the Dark Lord was dead then the side Noah had fought for had won, and she’d held onto that because she had to believe that he was alive, that he’d made it.

“Noah - has anyone seen - oh, sorry,” Lucy pushed her way through the crowd frantically, barely caring that she was bumping into people. “Sorry, could you please - Noah? Noah?” There were tears running down her face and Lucy stopped running, spinning around and scanning the crowds. Where was he?

Noah was hurting in a lot of places. He had some serious bruises rising -- several on his arms, a couple on his back, one on the back of his leg that was going to swell up and force him to limp. He’d also managed to crack a rib and his collarbone without noticing, although those had been healed easily. Now, he was laid out on one of the benches at the Hufflepuff table with someone running a wand over the gash on his chest as it continued to bleed sluggishly. He was trying not to think anymore, trying not to feel anything or worry or...anything. Everyone was safe. That was all that mattered. Mostly he was reveling in satisfaction at the truth that he had, in fact, made Zabini bleed.

For some reason, his first reaction upon hearing Lucy calling his name was to try to sit up, but the Healer pushed him back down with a firm hand and a warning look. He saw her run right past him and start turning around a few yards down. “Lucy,” he called out, reaching out his hand. If he hadn’t been laying down he thought he might have collapsed. It was one thing to know everyone was safe, another to see one of those he was so worried for, one who would be able to tell him who else was okay.

Hearing Noah’s voice was enough to stop Lucy in her tracks; she almost couldn’t believe it. Turning around, Lucy looked back to see where Noah was lying and couldn’t hold back a sob of relief. “Oh Merlin, Noah -” he was hurt. He was hurt but he wasn’t dead. Lucy ran straight to his side and knelt next to the bench, grabbing Noah’s hand. She was terrified - what was that healer doing and oh Merlin was that blood, there was so much blood - but at the same time she couldn’t stop smiling. He was alive. “Noah, what happened?”

Despite everything, Noah summoned a smile. “Made Zabini regret fucking with us, love,” he managed to say, squeezing her hand a little. Okay, so maybe not completely true. Still, if injured and bleeding wasn’t the time for bravado, when was it? He lost it soon enough anyway, when the Healer over him prodded the wound, making him hiss and clutch Lucy’s hand. Quickly, he forced himself not to think about it and gave her a reassuring smile. “Promise to still love me with a big ugly scar?”

Lucy laughed, disbelieving. “A big ugly - Noah, I don’t care if you have a thousand scars, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

The Healer said something about not being able to heal the wound magically, and pulled Noah’s shirt up, pressing a wad of material to his chest. “You’ve lost a lot of blood already. Keep pressure on it and get your shirt off. I’ll be back.” Noah nodded and stuck his hand up his shirt to press down on the gauze, then slowly sat up.

“Here,” Lucy said, moving to help. “Let me.” She stood up to help Noah sit, then slowly started pulling his shirt off. “Tell me if it hurts, alright?” The healer hadn’t been lying; the wound was large and if it scarred it would be obvious for the rest of his life, but at that moment there was literally nothing Lucy could have cared less about. “Tell me about Zabini,” she said in an attempt to distract Noah. “I take it he won’t be hurting innocent kids anymore?”

Noah was grateful for the help. It did hurt, his body protesting the movement, but he didn’t complain, just wanting to get it over with. “Well, that shirt’s a loss,” he said dryly. It had once been a nice pale blue, but it was ripped across the chest and an ugly brown all around and below that. He smiled a little at the request for details. “I spotted him hiding like a bunny rabbit and came after him. Traded hexes for a few minutes and he Stunned me. I shook it off and Disarmed him and tied him up.” He left out Anthony’s role, but he’d tell it more thoroughly, more honestly, later. For now, there was another matter. Noah reached into the pocket of his pajama pants.

“Still got his wand,” he said quietly. The wood was darker than that of Noah’s. He tried to feel some energy from the wand, some hint of malice or...anything. But it was entirely docile. It might as well have been a particularly smooth stick. Not what he would have expected.

Lucy folded the ruined shirt almost unconsciously, listening to Noah’s account of the fight. “For all his talk about dying for the cause it sure sounds like Zabini turned out to be a complete coward,” she said dryly, then smiled at Noah. “It was brave of you to fight him.”

As the winner of the fight Lucy knew it was right that Noah keep the wand, but Lucy couldn’t help frowning at it. She’d seen what that wand could do, what Zabini did to people with it. He’d killed a muggle with that wand. He could have killed Noah. “What are you going to do with it?”

The Healer returned, pausing their conversation, and Noah stowed the wand again. He grit his teeth and hissed again as the Healer swabbed him with something that stung like fire, then started wrapping bandages around his chest, occasionally looping them up over one shoulder and setting some aside for the bit that fell on his arm. “I don’t know,” he told Lucy eventually. “Nothing, for now. Toss it in the bottom of my trunk.” That made him think of his dorm. How empty would it be now? Who would be coming back? “How are the girls?” he asked. “Have you seen Callum?”

“The girls are all fine,” Lucy said confidently. “I made sure they all got out. Flori wasn’t too happy about leaving, but,” she shrugged. “they’re all safe. Callum,” Lucy frowned. “I haven’t seen Callum, actually. Oh, Merlin, I hope he’s alright!”

Standing up, Lucy looked around as though she’d be able to spot him in the crowd, then realized she’d never manage it. “We’ll have to ask around, I’m sure someone will know. You,” Lucy said, suddenly stern, “are not going anywhere right now, though.”

Noah laughed weakly, quickly admonished by the healer for messing with the bandages. “Love, all I really want to do right now is sleep for a year. I saw him an hour or so ago, if he made it that far I’m sure he’s fine,” Noah said, shaking his head a little. He sighed and let his head loll back. He wondered if the Healer would be cross if he did fall asleep. The compression on the wound did a lot for the pain and was almost pleasant. He remembered suddenly that fatigue was a symptom of blood loss. Did that mean he should try to stay awake?

Smiling, Lucy sat down on the bench next to Noah. “Alright, then. In that case I think you should sleep. Is that alright?” She glanced over at the healer, who nodded distractedly. “There you have it.”

“Nah, I’m fine, I’m sure we’ll...well, there will be beds eventually.” Still, he found himself moving to rest against Lucy, and yes, he was totally using her boobs as pillows. Whatever, they were soft. “I love you,” he told her, finding her left hand and lifting it to kiss the finger that held his pathetic little ring.

Lucy leaned back against the table and put her arms around Noah to hopefully make it a little more comfortable for him. It was at times like this that she really felt as though everything would turn out alright, and she couldn’t help smiling to herself when Noah kissed her hand. “I love you too,” she said quietly, and held on to his hand as he drifted off to sleep.

Seamus Finnigan & Lisa Turpin

"All right, Angelina, just try not to swing it around all that much until a real Healer gets to check it out, yeah?" Lisa was saying, having just put the young woman's shoulder back into socket the good old-fashioned way -- a skill she had never attempted before and only learned through Muggle films.

Angelina gave her a nod, hopping down from the table and testing out the joint once before giving the blonde a weak smile. "Thanks... Lisa, right?"

"That's right," she said in return. "No thanks necessary."

And off she went. There were still probably mountains of people to look at, but Lisa was trying to stay out of the way. The real Healers had arrived and were able to really help people, not just be patched up like she had been doing, but she was still trying to help with minor this or that. So much had happened in such a short amount of time and she still wanted to help. After all, there were some people that were far worse off than Angelina Johnson had been. She was a lucky one. Physically, at least.

There were people she needed to check on or just plain try to find, but Lisa was exhausted. It was hard enough just standing there and she hadn't been the ones fighting, not really. But, she had seen more people die in the past few hours than she had ever hoped to in a lifetime and it had worn on her.

Leaning against the desk that Angelina had been sitting at, she brought one hand up to drag her fingers through her limp and dirty hair. It was over, they said. She hadn't seen it, having been stuck in a classroom, holding someone's parent's hand -- she didn't even know who -- while a Healer tried to stop their bleeding. She didn't know which she would have preferred. But, it was over. And that right there was a reason to smile, she supposed.

Next in line was a sandy-haired young man who had succeeded in acquiring impressively few new injuries. There were the same ones he’d had before, of course, and a few new burns and scrapes and bruises - but really, in the end, nothing major. Comparatively speaking, anyway. It was with a faint smile that he walked up and approached his girlfriend with a blistered arm raised.

“Any good wi’ burns?” Seamus asked. It was a stupid way to greet his girlfriend after a long hour’s terror and several brushes with death...but he’d always said he was the dumb one. And what words could possibly say anything like all that needed to be said? Any language would be inadequate, so it seemed silly to work too hard at finding something equally lame.

Lisa didn't have to look up to know that it was Seamus that was addressing her because just hearing his voice sent such a wave of relief through her that she could have fallen over right then and there. Instead, she just turned, looked him over enough to realize that he was more or less in one piece and bit down hard on her lower lip to keep herself from crying. Because Merlin only knew that there had been more than one close call to falling into sobs throughout this whole ordeal. This would have been good crying, though, which was a damn nice change of pace.

Reaching into her pile of supplies, she picked up a burn paste and motioned at him to sit on the desk that she had just been leaning up against. "Take off your shirt and sit down," Lisa said, her voice quiet. It was a stupid thing to say, too. But she really didn't know what else to say when all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and not let go. She couldn't do that when he was hurt, though.

Seamus gave her a tilted grin as his fingers went carefully to the buttons on the ragged remains of his dirty, sweaty shirt. “Gettin’ me clothes off already, eh?” he teased weakly. He’d meant that to sound funnier than it did, but he just sounded worn out. Seamus wasn’t hurt too badly, but dear god was he tired. And sore, and aching...and yeah, the burns weren’t a favorite.

He obediently sat in the chair, and promptly decided sitting was the best thing ever. Why had he not been sitting before? Sitting was great, almost as great as closing his eyes and letting his head tilt slowly back. Maybe he could just pass out here and sleep for the next week.

"Only if you're planning to do all the work," Lisa replied, her own teasing just as worn out as his has been. There was a time that they had been better at this kind of thing, but neither had slept and Merlin only knew how many times he had probably thought he was going to die in the past few hours. Lisa didn't want to know. Either way, she figured that poor playful banter could be forgiven as she gently spread the burn paste down his arm. Would this be the last time she had to do this kind of thing for him? She really hoped so.

Turning a bit, she put the cover back on the tube and looked over Seamus's face. He was still a mess, but he was alive and that made her smile. The burn paste getting forgotten on the desktop, one hand went up to push his hair back from his face. "I can't even tell you how happy I am that you're right here," she murmured. It sounded dumb, she thought, but hopefully the point got across.

“Me too,” Seamus quietly replied, lifting his hand to cover hers. “Happy ye’re here, too.”

Because Merlin it had been close - for all of them. If a giant had come through this wall, or if the one that had come through the wall near him and Hannah had gone just a few feet to the left...if a curse here or there had come just a few inches to either side, or if Hannah hadn’t been as quick as she was, or if that fire had gone quicker...either one of them might not be here right now. Susan wasn’t. Su wasn’t. Nor Brie, nor Colin, nor Professor Lupin, and Megan was still unconscious...

And finally he couldn’t stand it anymore, and Seamus put his arms around Lisa to hug her as tightly as he could, injuries be damned. She was awake and alive, and so was he, and that was a lot better than either of them could have reasonably hoped for. The relief at making it through washed over Seamus full force, and he didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that welled up as he held on to Lisa. He’d spent a long time not crying, even just counting today, and he was due a little leeway on it.

Lisa completed the embrace, her arms tightening around him much tighter than she would have allowed herself in the past given how hurt he had been. Right now, though, she really thought that he would find it within himself to forgive her because for Merlin's sake, they both just lived through a bloody war. The battle itself was a big deal, but this whole year... Saying that it had been rough was a massive understatement.

When she backed away from him, her arms still around him, there were tears in her eyes as well. But that didn't stop her from leaning in and giving him a soft kiss -- that was something else she'd been so careful about all year.

The kiss didn’t stay soft for long; Seamus felt like he needed to kiss her like this, even if it did hurt his face. His face would get over it. And even when the kiss was finally ended, he didn’t let go of her.

“I know we’re both gonna have some serious family time after we go home,” he said softly, “but soon as ye’ve got some time for me, lemme know, yeah?”

Seamus wanted to spend as much time as he could with his family, especially with his sister whom he’d felt all year that he was letting down. He also knew, though, that he was going to need to find time to be with Lisa, too. There was something about repeatedly nearly dying that made it very clear what was most important, and Seamus had found that outside of his family, nothing was more important to him that Lisa. One way or another, he knew, completely and absolutely, that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving her.

"Yeah," Lisa agreed, her voice quiet as she nodded her head just once. It felt like there ought to have been so much more for her to say, she thought as her fingers trailed into his hair again and she bit her lip once more to fight back tears. Some kind of grand declarations of love or something else, but she had no idea what else she could say. Words had never been something that she excelled at and it seemed that they had more or less covered it all year, between her healing him and his being there during her highs and lows of grieving to them just standing here.

There was one thing she could say, though, and she thought it was important. "I love you," she murmured, her lips coming to press against his forehead.

“Love you too,” he softly replied. Seamus wiped his eyes and took a long, deep breath. There was a lot left to do, even with the battle over. He figured he should probably get to doing some of it.

“I’m gonna get back out there an’ try to help wi’...well, whatever they need help wi’,” Seamus said, picking his head up for one more kiss. “I’ll floo ye soon as ‘m home - and I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna try to get everybody together for...I dunno. Not like a party, but...I feel like we all need to get together an’ have a few drinks an’ talk about it all. ‘cause no one else’s gonna understand, exactly, are they?”

There was so much Seamus wanted to say and talk about, people he wanted to talk about, people he needed to thank, and he couldn’t imagine that he was the only one. Dumbledore’s Army and the Resistance, and all the others who were here this year and not on the Inquisitorial Squad - it seemed like a lot of them would want a moment to sit down and, even if they didn’t want to talk about what had already happened, they might want to talk about what they were going to do next. And some of that was going to be too hard to explain to people who weren’t here.

Lisa's heart just about broke when she saw him wipe away his tears and her brow furrowed slightly as she listened to him speak. Before this year, she had never seen him cry before and even this year it hadn't been as though he had been crying daily. But seeing him cry at all, knowing he had a reason to cry -- even if, in this case, she suspected that the cause had been relief, like her -- made her want to do everything in her power to keep him from crying ever again.

"That's a really good idea," she agreed, giving a little nod and a smile. She would have to let him move away soon so he could go help, but she still smoothed her palm over his cheek just once more. "I think that everyone is going to need the support." Everything might be over, she thought, but that didn't mean that they would want to go dancing in the streets. They had all lost something in some way. They should stick together.

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet still, and he took a moment to breathe her in one more time before leaving. One more kiss, too - soft and careful this time, and Seamus promised himself he’d do better once there was a chance to get his face fixed up a little better.

“I’ll see ye soon, okay? Take care o’ yerself, an’ don’t work too hard.”

"You obviously don't know my work ethic," Lisa joked in return, backing away from him to let him actually leave. She didn't want to let him, but she knew that he had to. She had things to do here, he had things to do out there and he needed to see his family, hug his siblings, do all of the things he couldn't do all year as he tried to protect them. And she needed to do the same with her own.

Smiling, she jerked her head toward the door. "Now, get out of here. I'll see you later, love."

---

Hannah Abbot & Neville Longbottom

The sun was rising over the castle, people were scattered about the Great Hall in clusters, exhausted from the battle but enjoying the post-fight adrenaline and the air of victory that hung around the hall. Neville had been bringing in bodies and helping injured to the healers until his stomach finally informed him it wasn’t going to wait much longer for a meal. Hannah was probably off helping younger students or with her friends, and he was giving her a bit of privacy. He knew she was alive, and he’d been watching her throughout the evening when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

He hadn’t eaten anything since dinner, and had spent all night awake fighting, which meant his stomach was quite angry. When he sat down at the table, a plate of food appeared in front of him almost instantly. He set the sword of Gryffindor down on the table, gazing at it for a few long seconds before turning his attention back to his plate. Unfortunately, the peace and quiet didn’t last long. Just a few bites into the meal and he found himself surrounded by people who wanted to talk and gush. He was too polite to turn them away, but they were starting to squeeze in a little too close for comfort.

Hannah’s blonde hair was pink with dried blood, some of it hers, some of it others as she staggered like an inferi through the battlefield, an exhausted smile on her face. It was such a strange feeling having that euphoria inside of her, warring with the worry she felt about Megan and the grief she felt over the dead. Would there always be a war in some way, she wondered? Would she really wake up tomorrow morning and Voldemort would really be gone?

“Voldemort,” she murmured, her toes tensing as she waited for someone to come arrest her for violating the taboo, for saying his name.

No one came.

Her smile grew a little bit bigger as she saw her boyfriend and the hero of the hour attempting to eat his lunch while several younger (and female, she noted) students hung out and pestered him. He’d always been a hero to her, but it was nice to see other people finally recognising it. Without fanfare she pushed her way through; had she not been so tired she would have said “excuse me!” and “pardon!” and all the nice things that her mother had taught her to say, but every bone in her body ached and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand.

She laid her head down on his shoulder. He smelled like smoke and sweat. “Hi.”

A smile came to Neville’s face almost immediately. “Hi.” He glanced down at her, but tried not to disturb Hannah’s place on his shoulder. He was extremely dirty and soot covered and probably smelled disgusting, but he wasn’t going to protest. He would take one Hannah any time of the day over any large number of “fans”. They were already asking him to repeat the story or tell them how it was from his perspective, and it was difficult enough coming up with the words. Harry had told him to kill the snake, and the opportunity had practically fallen in his hands.

A lot of sacrifices had been made today, a lot of good people died. But it was finally over. Hopefully the events from today would shape their lives to come, and certainly bode for a better future. He knew that people hadn’t given their lives in vain, and that they’d always be remembered. It didn’t make the grief much easier, but he still had Hannah.

He kissed the top of her head, not caring if it was saturated with blood and dirt and offered her a piece of bread, “Have you eaten anything?”

“Eaten anything. Ha.” She took the bread and ripped it in half, popping it in her mouth to savor it. “I’d forgotten all about eating, really.” It was nearly morning. In a few hours she would have woken up to have breakfast in the Room of Requirement. They had decent breakfasts in there. Certainly better than a piece of questionable bread. But still, Hannah was pretty sure she’d never had anything so wonderful in her life.

“I’m going to sleep forever, I think,” she said, and it was as if she was hearing herself through a veil of cotton. Everything seemed very far away; the rise and fall of Neville’s breathing and the warmth of him made her feel even more dreamy. “But... I really want to see the sunrise, first.”

He wasn’t surprised. She had probably been moving at full speed since the fighting began. There hadn’t been a whole lot of time to sit down and rest, and resting meant thinking. He’d been preparing and waiting for this moment all year, for Harry to show up and for the fight to take over Hogwarts to begin. Now they’d be able to go home, relax, mourn.. Sleep.

“Let’s stay for the sunrise,” Neville offered her another piece of food. “We can wade through the horde of girls and go home after.” Home sounded like a nice place to be right now, though he wasn’t sure how secure the Longbottom manor was. Gran had left to visit St. Mungo’s and volunteer as needed, so he was at loose ends. “You can get a shower and sleep for twenty hours.”

Sleep for twenty hours... that sounded nice. But she shook her head even as she smiled. “No... not that long. Megan... she was hurt horribly. I’ve got to...” Well, he knew what she had to do. “I’ll sleep for a little while in a cramped chair at the hospital,” she murmured, “and you know, that’ll be wonderful.”

Her fingers curved around his elbow. Here they were. Whole. Somehow even with the exhaustion she wondered if she’d really sleep at all - that image of the burning Hat, of Voldemort’s taunts... the thought made her shudder all over again. It had come so close. And even with Harry Potter seemingly dead, he hadn’t given up. Neville had never given up.

“I love you,” she said, “enough to take out an entire horde of girls.”

Neville wasn’t about to argue with her. After losing Lind and Susan, and very nearly Megan... Well, if she needed to be at St. Mungo’s, she needed to be there. “All right. St. Mungo’s first. There’s a lot of people we should check on.” It almost made him feel guilty that he had come out primarily unscathed. He’d had a few minor wounds that were healed here in the Great Hall, but for the most part... well. He’d been lucky. They both had.

“I love you too,” he rested his chin on the top of her head, “and thank Merlin I’ve got you to warn them off because I haven’t got the faintest idea what to do with them. They keep.. hovering.” He glanced quickly over his shoulder with a wary look, turning his head back as soon as he saw several sets of eyes on both of them. Was it ever going to stop?

She looked in the same direction, not sure if she felt annoyed on his behalf or mildly amused. Wait, no, scratch that - she was just tired. “I hope you’ve been practising your signature,” she said, “because I think you’ll be signing quite a few autographs in the next few weeks.”

He may have been slightly more awake than she was, but he still didn’t have the effort to pinch her for that comment. Even though she deserved it. He glanced over to where Harry had been sitting before, though it looked as if Harry had made an escape. Lucky bloke. “I think Harry is going to have to practice loads more than me. He’s the hero here.”

“You’re a hero,” she murmured, her fingers curling around his arm. “You kept us together this entire school year, Neville. This entire year. We wouldn’t have made it through - we wouldn’t have kept believing - without you.” She straightened her neck so she could look at him in the eye. “I wouldn’t have managed without you. Harry’s going to be famous beyond our years, sure, but... you’ll definitely be in a history book or two.” She smiled. “Doesn’t mean I won’t keep my pictures of you with Snowball, though.”

His face flushed red and he gave her a wry smile. “There were times everyone made it difficult to keep together.” Plenty of times he wanted to throw in the towel when things got harder, but that’s not what the trio would have done. He leaned forward and kissed her dirty forehead, “Thank you for sticking with me through all of this.” He paused, “Are you sure that your pictures didn’t get destroyed in the fire?” He could only hope.

That hadn’t occurred to her, and her eyes briefly widened. “Merlin, with any luck, Peeves saved them and is tossing them about the injured to cheer them up.” She looked back up at him, and grinned. “We can hope, right?”

There was a strange hush falling over the grounds. Hannah supposed it was exhaustion, or
perhaps grief for those that had died. The thought gave her pause, and she murmured:

“Neville? Can we go to St. Mungos? Check on Megan, and Ernie and the rest? And...” She managed a sad little smile, “you should tell your parents all about your adventures. They’d be so proud of you.”

Neville gave Hannah’s shoulders a squeeze. He really didn’t care about pictures, but it was nice to joke about a bit in light of everything that had happened tonight. He felt the same hush she did, and closed his eyes for just a few moments, savoring the feel of her in the silence. Things would be a lot different right now if neither of them had made it, but now they had to be there for their friends. “Yeah. Let’s go to Mungo’s. We can come back here later and try to help clean up.” The fallen walls and destroyed furniture would keep.

Hannah nodded, and slowly got up, tugging Neville up with her. Her eyes were very large as she took in the battered castle, the bloody students, the waste, the ruin, and yet as the sun rose pink over the Scottish horizon - hope. There it was. That small, floundering feeling in her heart that told her that this was a long stream of sunrises that she’d see together with Neville.

The future was here.

---

Ravenclaw 7 Reunion

Stephen refused to fall asleep. His body was exhausted, but his mind was wide awake. Three hours. It had been three hours since You-Know-Who’s voice rang through Hogsmeade and more people came through the Hogshead, looking for Madame Pomfrey to come heal and anyone else who was able to come fight. Two hours since Potter was supposed to give himself up. And still no sign of his friends. The battle was over, so where were they? He paced back and forth, stopping now and again to look at the corner where his sisters slept--or at least, where the younger two slept and Anna kept fighting sleep--waiting for the door to open to reveal his friends, the friends he’d shared classes and a dorm with for seven years, and Susan, who he wished he’d gotten to know years before.

Padma was the first to come through. She didn’t want to be the one to deliver the news, but somebody had to, and she was the least injured and (as best she could tell) least traumatized at the moment. Not that they weren’t all traumatized; Su had been one of her closest friends, and Padma had broken down into sobs when she saw her body laid out on the table in the Great Hall. But whether she remembered it or not, Padma had gotten good over the last year at doing what needed to be done even when it was hard and even when what she would rather do was curl up in a ball and cry herself to sleep.

She could see that the news of the battle’s end had already come to the Hogshead - all around people were rejoicing, reuniting with families and friends. She couldn’t even manage a smile, though, knowing what she had to tell Stephen, and she knew that he would see something was wrong before she spoke.

Please, she thought, Please let the rest of them be right behind me soon. She had wanted to wait until they were all there, so there would be some support, but the odds weren’t looking good for it - not when she could already see Stephen’s eyes catching her as she came through the door.

Stephen wasn’t usually the hugging type. He tended to awkwardly hang back and stick with a wave or a handshake, but seeing Padma, he moved to wrap her in a quick hug automatically. One down, and he was sure the rest couldn’t be too far behind. But as he drew back, he could sense something wasn’t right. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know. They’d won, hadn’t they? This was supposed to be a time for celebration. So why was he getting a dreadful sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach?

Padma hugged him back, clinging for a moment as she tried to get her composure together. Pressing her lips together, she pulled back and glanced down to the floor. She felt the tears growing heavy in her eyes once more; just the thought of telling Stephen, for the first time actually saying out loud what had happened, was too much to bear without crying.

“Su, and Susan...” Padma said, tears tracking down the dirt on her face, and her voice broke into a threadbare whisper. “They...they didn’t make it.”

Stephen blinked, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t heard her correctly. There was a buzzing in his ears, and he shook his head, trying to get rid of it. It took him a full minute, even looking at Padma’s tears, for her words to sink in. “What?” he said hollowly, his stomach like lead, his chest tight, his eyes inexplicably dry. He couldn’t move his feet, couldn’t even remember if there was a chair nearby he could sit in. Su, clever Su, who was always willing to strike up a discussion with him on the History of Magic.

And Susan. He shook his head again. No. No, he’d heard Padma wrong. There’d been something more she must have said, something he didn’t hear tacked on to the end of that sentence. They didn’t make it here, they had to be taken to St. Mungo’s, but they’d be okay. They had to be okay. They couldn’t be... “No.” It was such a weak protest, but it was all he could think to say.

As Lisa walked through the entrance to the Hog's Head, she took one look at the booths and it took every ounce of willpower not to just walk to one of them, lay down in the bench, and sleep for days. Her hair had been pulled back from her face in a low ponytail, the curls limp and streaked with blood as she hadn't had a chance to wash it out properly just yet. Scanning the room, it didn't take long to find Stephen and Padma and the moment her eyes did find them, her stomach dropped.

Breathing a sigh, Lisa brought her hands together to wring them together and she bit down hard on her lip as she advanced toward the pair. Su, Susan...sweet Merlin. She didn't envy Padma at having had to deliver the news.

"Stephen," Lisa started, her voice quiet and her expression pained. Not knowing what else to do, her arms spread and she brought them around her cousin.

Stephen didn’t return the embrace right away. All he could see was the blood in Lisa’s hair and wonder whose it was. Had it been Su’s, or Susan’s? Or did it belong to someone else he knew, or just a complete stranger? He gulped, trying not to think about it, unable to stop thinking about it. He raised his arms stiffly, folding them around her. Merlin, why did every thought make his heart sting?

The celebratory feeling after witnessing Voldemort’s defeat was ebbing away much faster than he had hoped for. Now came the heavy burden of loss on his shoulders -- as well as racking guilt as he was a cause of at least one of them -- as Michael made his way through the passageway leading to the Hog’s Head. Seeing Padma, Lisa and Stephen together, however, felt like another hard punch to the stomach.

In two minutes of hesitation at the entrance as he stared at them, he thought of the scene in the Great Hall, the sounds of sobs and screams as people discovered who was gone. In an instant the bodies flashed before his eyes -- Su, Susan, Brie, Patrick...

When Michael finally approached the trio, his mind went completely blank of words and he stared speechless at their feet.

“I’m so sorry, Stephen,” Padma said softly. It was so insufficient, for all of them, but what else could she say?

In absence of anyone else to cling to, Padma reached for Michael’s hand. He looked as if he needed one as much as she did, and Stephen’s grief was too palpable and thick to intrude on now.

Mandy had witnessed the final defeat of Voldemort through something of a haze of dizzy pain: only moments before a piece of stone had come hurtling into her face, magicially flung by an unseen attacker or friendly fire or simply shrapnel from one of the dozens of battles happening around her, and the impact had momentarily blinded her. And so she hadn’t really had the presence of mind or the concentration to register the bodies littering the grounds and Great Hall as she made her way, dizzily but intent, to the Hogs Head.

She did, however, managed to spot her roommates once there, and she made her way to them through the crowds of students, befuddled equally by the pounding in her head and the devestated looks on their faces. They’d won, and Voldemort was gone. Why did they look like that?

“Bibn’t you lot ‘ear?” she managed as she got close enough to them, broken nose and drying blood making coherence extremely difficult. “Po’er dib it! Doe bore Vodemor’ , yeah?”

At Mandy's words, Lisa pulled away from Stephen. She had done rather well with keeping her tears at bay, but now it was just unbearable. They were supposed to be celebrating, Mandy was right. The war was over! This was supposed to be a happy moment. But between the insanity that was the year preceeding to the events in the past several hours, she wanted nothing more than to just curl up in her bed for a good few days. The relief that so many of her friends were safe was easily overshadowed by the death of several friends.

"Su didn't make it, Mandy," Lisa said, her voice soft as she reached up to wipe her cheeks with one hand. "Neither did Susan."

Anthony usually managed to convey a fair approximation of calm, at least on the surface. Over the course of the night, there had been anticipation, terror, grief, shock and jubilation, but above all determination. The key to maintaining his equanimity had been purpose. There had always been another task to perform, but as he walked slowly towards the Hogshead, Anthony was coming to the disconcerting realisation that there was nothing left to do. His rational mind would kick in eventually and point to the world to rebuild, the friends to assist, even the bodies to bury, - of them all, it had not been Su he’d expected not to make it through - but right now rationality had no place. It was actually over. There were no more dirty jobs to take in hand - except the dirtiest, and as he located his friends just in time to hear Lisa’s words, he realized that even that one had been completed for him.

Anthony came to a stop just behind Mandy, glancing over the other exhausted, grief-stricken faces. War weary. The phrase had never had quite so much meaning before.

The night was wearing fiercely on Terry. It was almost to the point where he just wanted to find his brothers and make sure they were safe, and then crash and fall asleep for a year. He was pretty sure that he was past being able to feel anything, but as he limped into the Hogs Head and saw the rest of what remained of Ravenclaw seventh year, he couldn't help but feel that there were three faces that ought to be there. Morag, still in Azkaban but hopefully out soon; Kevin, who should be able to come home now; and Su, lost to them forever. And he felt guilty for that last. He should have been able to save her.

Favouring his left leg, he slowly limped up to the group, hesitating before saying anything. Did they all know about Su yet, or would he have to break the news? And worse, did they know that he'd been there and hadn't been able to do anything?

When Padma took his hand, Michael automatically turned and his other arm went over her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. He rested one side of his cheek against her head, trying to keep himself collected but he was breaking fast. And when he heard Lisa retell the tragedy to Mandy, he broke, and the tears came down freely.


Mandy blinked at Lisa in bleary incomprehension for several seconds, clinging to her confusion as a bulwark against the cold the words had sent spreading through her. “Wha? Bibn’t make wha?”

She looked from Lisa to the others and back, then turned around to glance at Anthony behind her. They were all wearing the same expression. “Oh. Bu’- it’s Su, ev’boby likes Su, how-”

Stephen stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself Lisa pulled away. His arms fell loosely at his side, itching as though they needed someone or something to hold on to. But who? They were all here now, and all he could do was stare at Mandy and shake his head as she came to the same understanding he’d reached. As much as he knew it, he still refused to accept it. They had to be mistaken, they couldn’t have lost Su and Susan. He was vaguely aware of tears starting to fall from his eyes. Too numb to even brush them away, he just let them fall silently.

It was hard to be optimistic at a time like this, but suddenly Lisa felt like that was her job. Great. A smile wasn't necessary, but she did reach out and take Mandy's hand before turning to Mr. Dumbledore. "A few shots of anything else that you might have, Mr. Dumbledore. I'm sure that you're about tapped out."

As the old man nodded and made count of their group, Lisa turned and said, "We'll be all right, though. For them, yeah? Sounds bloody cheesy, but we've got each other and they'd want us to be all right." She squeezed Mandy's hand tight, made a mental note to sit her down and fix her nose before too long, then actually managed just a little bit of a smile. "So we're going to do ourselves a shot to them. Celebrating how brilliant they were." A pause as she looked to Michael, her best friend since they were in diapers, for a little confirmation. "Okay?"

Said best friend lifted up his head from Padma’s, and looked back at her. They had lost so many. But.. thank Merlin he hadn’t lost her, as selfish as that thought might have sounded -- he didn’t plan on voicing it. “Yeah,” Michael said, in a raspy voice at first before he cleared his throat and tried again. “You’re right. yeah.”

Slowly, Mandy nodded, squeezing Lisa’s hand with her own and reaching behind her with the other for Anthony. “Yeah. Bor dem. Yeah. Bud firs’, could we all jus’ like...hands? Bor a while?”

On the other side, Padma reached for Mandy’s other hand. Then her other hand reached out for Michael’s again, and she rested her head against his shoulder. One by one, they all held tight to each other. It didn’t fix anything, not by a long shot - but at least it reminded them that they had each other.

---

Students filtered in and out of the Great Hall. Blood made the floors slick, though the Gray Lady was untroubled by walking.

She floated silent and sad over where a girl with red hair and a yellow and black jumper had lain but moments before the Healers had collected her. Susan Bones had given her life for today for the good of the wizarding world. The Gray Lady knew what a precious jewel life was, especially when it was snatched away.

The Gray Lady didn't feel a chill - she couldn't - but nevertheless she knew who appeared behind her.

"Do you think that any of the students will stay?" she asked, her voice quavering. They were her children, after all, and now their souls were wandering, careening in the lights that had left her dazzled, losing their way in the darkness that had dragged her back to Hogwarts with a bloody stab wound in her chest.

The Bloody Baron glowered. "I think it is selfish to hope."

"I know," she said. Her tears sparkled like crystal. "I want them to move on, to catch their star. But we lost so very many." She looked to where the bodies had been gathered, where Susan had turned from the warm, gentle girl that she had been to just another stiff husk waiting to rot. "I will miss them terribly."

The Baron was silent, and she took a mean pleasure in his uncertainty. "The castle will always be stuffed with adolescents," he said at last. "There is never a dirth of them."

She smiled. "And yet we are still so alone." She was silent for a moment as she gazed to where the living had gathered. They would always be in this bloody hall, she knew. They could leave and they could get better mentally and physically, but when they closed her eyes, they would see Hogwarts in flames. Some things were fixed. "I gave up a secret today," she said. "I used my mortal name."

The Baron stared at her. "It has been so long."

She smiled. "I felt like a Helena for the first time in a long while."

The Baron pressed his lips together. "We did well today."

The Gray Lady looked down at the floor they floated above. "Please mark that you will never be Gideon again to me."

"Never," agreed the Baron. "I expect no forgiveness for-"

"Be quiet," she said, and laid a hand against one of his chains. "Let us go our ways. We may say a prayer for our children, and not fight. Not today."

The Baron stilled. "We never had enough time."

"We have forever," she said, and faded into fog.