The End of the Begining-Part the Fourth
~~~Two Months Later~~~
The remaining students put away their Resistance robes, threw away their battle spell books, and returned to their civilian lives at Hogwarts. Everything seemed normal again, but the emotional and physical scars will still fresh, the seats of missing students still a reminder of what they had been through. It was finally, at Hermione's suggestion that they combined all four houses together, making one complete house. The empty chairs and beds in the Gryffindor Tower were finally filled, save for one. If anyone got within two feet of Harry Potter's bed they were filled with the terror and pain he felt in the last moments of his life, courtesy of Draco's little spell. People soon stayed four feet from it for fear of the spell.
Dumbledore sighed, pushing open the door to the West Tower. This was the only tower in the whole of Hogwarts that had a window facing the battle sight. He had often found students up here, staring dismally at the wreckage, often crying. He made a mental note to talk to Pomfrey and McGonagall about getting more medi wizzards to help with the student counseling for those that had lost loved ones. He followed the weak beam of light to the window sill. Seated on the large ledge was a small blonde boy, staring out the window silently.
Dumbledore moved closer, wondering what to say when suddenly Neville spoke.
"I've lost them all now."
Dumbledore sat on the ledge with him, feet dangling in the cool breeze. "Not yet you haven't, he can still recover."
"Only if he wants to."
"He does."
"I wanted so badly to kill him....does that make me as evil as him?"
"No, it makes you human."
"I'm sorry I missed Defense Against the Dark Arts,"
"It's alright, it was quite boring anyway, just a history of the Kelpie."
"Oh."
"Potions next?"
Neville nodded. "Yup."
"You should hurry, I hear Snape is making a special potion today, a favorite of mine, you won't want to miss it."
Neville looked up at Dumbledore. "Will things ever be the same?"
"Oh I hope not, otherwise what's the point of a year long battle? Hurry to class young Neville."
Neville nodded and slid off the ledge, hurrying from the room to make it to class on time. Dumbledore sighed again and looked out the window silently before pushing himself up and heading towards the door. Maybe he should get some help for the teachers as well.
~~~~~~~~~
Draco stared at the curtained ceiling of his bed, listening to the other 7th year boys sleep, well, most of them. The absence of Neville's familiar snoring indicated he was also lying awake. Tears flowed slowly down the young boy's faces as he raised his want and added another bit of green to the painting on the ceiling of his bed. He had been working on the painting secretly at night ever since his return to Hogwarts, hoping to have it completed before the graduation feast. Harry's smiling face smiled down at the former Slytherin and Draco had to smile back. Harry was going to be a great guardian for Gryffindor Tower.
~~~~~
St. Mungo's....
Neville sighed, placing his hands flat on the table in front of him, to keep them from shaking. He stared at his fingers, noticing that they were still stained from his potions homework and his quill. He stared harder at them, trying to find something, anything on them that would keep him from looking up at the boy, the man sitting across from him.
Percy watched Neville carefully, though his face betrayed no emotion, his long red hair flowing down over his shoulders, blowing softly in the faint breeze from the hall.
Neville felt Percy's eyes on him and finally he looked up, staring hard into those brown orbs that once held so much love. "Why won't you talk to me Percy, I can't help you if you won't open your mouth."
Percy remained silent, stoic, refusing to back down from the challenge but refusing to speak either. It was the way these visits always went and had gone since Neville retracted Percy's sentence and sent him here. The same silence broken only by Neville's voice, the same looks, the same tears, the same heartache. Neville had had enough of it.
"I'm leaving Percy. Our time is up." Neville stood, pulling on his cloak, his back to his lover. "Only, I'm not coming back. I can't, not again." He bit his lip before squaring his shoulders and walking to the door, hand grasping the knob firmly.
"It's not over." The voice was harsh, weak with disuse, but it echoed in the silent room. "This is only the eye of the storm."
Neville turned and looked at Percy, still sitting in his seat, shoulders hunched slightly. Neville turned and walked out the door calmly, letting it shut before he took off in a run.
*****
Elsewhere...
"Uncle Peter?" A soft voice called, breaking Peter Pettigrew from his thoughts. He looked up to find his young niece standing in the doorway, framed by the fading sun.
"Come in Monica, there is someone I wish you to meet."
Monica walked carefully into the library of her Uncle's home, stepping gingerly over the volumes of books littering the floor. Seated in a chair next to her uncle was a tall, pale man with silver blonde hair that shone in the last few rays of the sun.
"Monica, this is Mr. Lucius Malfoy."
The 15-year-old curtseyed to the man and gasped when he seized her wrist. A burning pain shot up her arm, closing her throat till near the point of suffocation before surging into her heart, stopping it, freezing the moment in her mind as she sunk to her knees. Lucius released her arm, letting the girl fall away to the floor, gasping and clutching at her forearm. She slowly, weakly raised it to her sight and stared at the skull looking back at her, mocking her.