Part Three
Neville stared stoically across the field, his back stiff. His grandmother stood next to him, the only sign of emotion the shaking hand she held out to her grandson. To his other side stood his son, and a sadder figure Draco had never seen: all of six years old, he was wearing tiny dress robes and clinging to his father's left arm as if he might never let go. And Draco couldn't blame the boy: they had just buried his mother.
He didn't know how much longer Neville could hold it together. Why were funerals always so damn long? Worse still the weather: cool, cloudy, and drizzling. He couldn't imagine a sadder, bleaker day.
He swallowed hard and felt Astoria take his hand. Glancing at her, he nodded gratefully, and she smiled back, because she felt it too: Neville's unbearable pain, spelled out in every line of his face as he finally turned and led the way from the cemetery. He had lost Hannah suddenly and unexpectedly: she'd only fallen ill three months ago. Now he was alone with a young child to raise as a single father.
Draco couldn't imagine how hard it would be to lose his wife. He couldn't imagine a life without her: without her smile, her laughter, even her biting tongue and quick temper. Certainly her copper hair, her green eyes, her soft skin. What must Neville be feeling now? To never see, speak, or touch Hannah again? How was that fair to someone so good, so strong, so pure?
Draco swallowed again as he thought about all he'd been through with Neville Longbottom. He had been the one to ask Hannah to go out with Neville, had made sure they'd followed up on their disastrous dinner at Orsino's, had pushed him to propose when it was obvious to everyone they were meant for each other. He'd been there at Neville's side when they'd been married, been there when Brian had been born, and now he was watching his closest friend mourn his deepest loss.
As they filed past the family and began to offer condolences, Draco once more reached for Astoria's hand, not sure what to say to Neville. What do you say to someone who had lost so much? He only knew he couldn't make some snarky comment: now wasn't the time.
"You'll know what to do," Astoria murmured, as if reading his mind. "Just say what you feel. Don't hide it for once."
"For once?" he muttered back, unclear what she meant. Did he really hold back his real feelings that much? But he was unable to find out as they came up to Neville, and Draco awkwardly stuck out his hand. Yet almost before Neville took it, he pulled the Gryffindor into a hug and felt his own tears begin to fall as they held one another for a long time; words weren't necessary.
When they finally pulled apart, Draco found a small hand tugging on his almost immediately. It was Brian, and he looked confused.
"Where's Scorpius?" he asked, the 's' coming out a bit funny as both his front teeth were missing. Draco crouched down and smiled at the boy.
"He's with his Grandma and Grandpa Greengrass right now," he said, then leaned in close. "But he had an important message for you, if you're up for it."
The little boy's eyes brightened. Above them, Astoria was talking softly with Neville as they watched. "What did he say, Uncle Malfoy?"
"He said you should come visit as soon as possible," Draco said, keeping his face very serious. "Something about the playhouse out back you two were building."
"Is it finished?" Brian squealed, and Draco heard Neville laugh above him, a welcome sound in the middle of so much sadness.
"No, not quite. He said you need to help decorate it. He thought maybe you'd like to put a picture of your mum in there." Draco paused, hoping he hadn't pushed the boy too far, but Brian nodded eagerly.
"Yes, I'd like that. Then I could see her every time I come over to visit. When can I come?
Draco took the boy's hand and stood to talk to Neville again. "As soon as your dad is ready. Right now he needs you."
Brian nodded solemnly. "Okay. Maybe tomorrow then."
They all burst out laughing, and Brian gazed up at them, his small face confused. Draco let go his hand and took Neville's once more. "We're happy to have him over whenever you want, whenever you need, and for as long as you can spare him for Scorpius."
Neville nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Draco. I know he'd like that. I could really use the time to…you know, go through … before school starts…" He trailed off, his voice too tight to go on, and Draco gripped his shoulder, his own eyes welling with tears once more.
"Let me know if you need any help with anything. Even Hogwarts stuff." He grinned, knowing it would at least get a smile from Longbottom. Since the day he had found out Neville was even considering a teaching position at Hogwarts, Draco had enjoyed giving the man a hard time about it. Never mind that he was a fantastic Herbology professor; now it was an old joke between them, among many things.
Neville did smile, even managed a small snort. "Astoria must have put you up to that one, since I know you won't touch Hogwart's business with a ten-foot pole."
Draco turned off the light mood and leaned closer. "Anything for a friend, Neville. Just let us know."
"I will, Draco," Neville replied, putting his arm around Brian's shoulders. "I appreciate it."
"Tell Scorpius not to finish without me!" Brian called as they took their leave and made their way toward Hannah's parents. Draco tipped his head at the young boy and took his wife's hand: Brian may have lost his mother, but he would still have a large and loving family to look after him.
* * *
Once again Neville found himself at a funeral, only this time he was not mourning his wife, or his mother, or his Uncle Algie--he was mourning his best friend.
Draco had often said funerals were too damn long. The last time had been at Lucius Malfoy's funeral, actually, and it had been too long as far as Neville was concerned. Yet now he didn't want the sad ceremony to end, because that would mean it was real, it was over. Draco was gone, Astoria was alone, and Scorpius was a young man who would no longer know his father's love and guidance.
But it ended, and condolences were given to the family, and slowly the mourners began to file away. Neville was glad to see Harry waiting to offer his sympathies, though he was not surprised to see that Harry was alone. He wasn't sure why Harry was there--whether for him or for the family--but he was grateful at least one of his friends had come. They had long stopped questioning his friendship with Draco Malfoy, but he knew they still doubted it. Neville appreciated that Harry had thought enough of both of them to come anyway, and hoped that perhaps Harry had seen a bit of what Neville had known for years: Draco Malfoy had changed. He had been loved and he would be missed.
He watched Harry take his leave, watched Brian suppress a grin as Scorpius struggled to understand old Horace Slughorn mumbling his sympathies, watched Astoria hold her head high as Narcissa Malfoy wept once more into someone's arms.
It wasn't fair. First he'd lost his wife, and now Astoria had lost her husband. Why was the world filled with so much death? What had they done to deserve such a fate, to lose the one person they had chosen to spend the rest of their life with? Neville had struggled with the question for years, asking it as each new funeral reminded him of his loss so many years ago. Draco had been there for him every time, though he had no answer. He simply listened and offered whatever reassuring words he could, often with a shot of Firewhisky, but now Neville would drink by himself. And there were still no answers.
Neville had lost friends and family, yet this abrupt hole in his life felt different somehow. His mother had been sick for so long, her passing had almost been a blessing to release her from her suffering. His uncle had been old, older than anyone Neville had ever known, and he had long declared himself ready. Hannah had been ill for several months, though even that time hadn't fully prepared Neville for what it would be like to lose a spouse. Yet at least he had known. But Draco had died unexpectedly, murdered by enemies as he left the pub one night; he had gone out for a simple dinner but never returned. The unfairness of it made him want to rail at the universe, that someone could be taken from their loved ones so fast, without warning, forever.
Neville had seen people die at Hogwarts; he had seen people die since then, had even held Hannah's hand as she took her last breath. But Neville had been with Draco the night he was killed, and still he wasn't prepared for the quick, shocking finality of it. Nor could he have ever anticipated the unbearable agony of holding someone in your arms and watching their blood soak the pavement as their life ebbed away. No spell, no amount of sobbing or shouting had been able to save Draco; it had been that fast, and Neville's guilt grew with each passing day, that he had not been able to save him, when he alone could have saved Draco's life as he had once before.
That he had been with him should have meant something: he had been able to say goodbye, make that final promise that he would watch over Astoria and Scorpius. Yet Neville didn't feel fortunate or grateful, he felt cursed. He felt guilty. And more than anything, he felt alone for the first time since Hannah had died.
Draco Malfoy had been his best friend. Neville knew it was probably the oddest friendship either of them had, yet it was what it was and it worked for them. What had started as a reluctant offer of help had grown into much more, and now it was gone. No more dinners at the pub, no more family parties. There would be no one to both cut him down and build him up in the same breath, no one to laugh and cry with, no one to both love and hate.
Scorpius motioned to Brian, and together they helped Narcissa Malfoy walk back to the house. Neville watched them, two strong young men leading the frail old woman who now lost both her husband and son. They had been close before Hannah passed, but had become almost like brothers in the years since. Brian knew what it was like to lose a parent, and Neville could only hope Scorpius would lean on him in such a difficult time. They would need each other.
He was more worried, however, about Astoria. He walked over to where she was standing, staring across the grounds of Malfoy Manor. She turned as he approached, and for the first time that day she dropped the mask she had been wearing, and Neville saw how truly devastated she was.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured for what felt like the one-hundredth time in the past week. He reached out to her and she collapsed in his arms, and he held her as she sobbed, all the heartache and loss she had been holding back in public finally pouring out in private. All too soon he was crying with her, for he knew more than anyone the pain of losing a spouse. And he had lost his best friend. He wasn't sure they would get through it, but he realized, as Brian and Scorpius disappeared into the house, that they had too, if only for the boys. They would do it together, somehow, one day at a time.
Draco and Astoria had been there for him and Brian when Hannah had died, and now they would be there for her and Scorpius. They were practically family, after all. It probably didn't seem like it to a lot of others, but their friendship had grown to include even their wives and children. Neville couldn't imagine getting together with Astoria and Scorpius without Draco taking the piss out of them all with his sarcastic, biting comments. It would be dull, to say the least--but it would continue. He was determined not to abandon them, no matter how much it hurt to be reminded of what they had all lost.
"I'm sorry," Astoria finally murmured, pulling away. She rolled her eyes as she wiped tears from Neville's shoulder. "I've messed up your robes."
"It's all right," he replied. "I have other clothes."
"And I have a wand," she replied, with a small smile. "I could clean it up right now if you like."
"It doesn't matter," Neville replied. "It's just water and salt." Merlin, what a stupid thing to say. He rolled his eyes and she laughed, and he embraced her once more, before putting his arm around her shoulder and leading her back toward the house.
"Look, Astoria, if there's anything you need…" He trailed off as she nodded, leaning against him.
"I know, Neville. I know. You've always been there for us. You have been such a good friend."
Neville frowned. "Have been?" he asked. "Astoria, I hope you don't think I'm going to disappear just because…well, just because." He couldn't say it, but continued as best as he could. "You and Scorpius mean everything to us--to me. I'd do anything for you. All you have to do is ask."
They came to the stairs leading into the house. How many times had he stumbled up those stairs with Draco in a drunken haze? How many times had they chased Brian and Scorpius down them onto the lawn? The memories hit him like a Stunning Spell, and he almost gasped out loud as something twisted in his chest. The last time he had walked up these stairs, he had been carrying Draco's body, because he simply hadn't known where else to go. And like that first night they'd met, he'd Apparated him home.
"I know, Neville," she said, linking arms with him. It grounded him, and he took a deep breath to calm himself, focus on her words. "And I know I'll have to. I have no idea what to do…about anything. I have no idea what to do next."
As they entered the house, Neville steered her toward the front parlor, where they had often sat for drinks. "I think we need a toast, just the two of us," he said. He sat her down and mixed the drink he'd introduced to Draco, making sure to add the splash of gin his friend had insisted on when the occasion called for something a bit more stiff.
Astoria smiled gratefully as he handed her Gillywater with a slice of orange. They held their glasses up, gazing sadly at one another as they made their private toasts. Silently, Neville thanked Draco for coming into the shop that night seventeen years ago, for asking out Hannah, for choosing him as best man, for being a steady godfather to Brian. He promised to watch over Astoria and Scorpius, and even Narcissa, and to make sure his name continued to grow and redeem itself. And he apologized for all the wrongs he had done him over the years, asking for forgiveness, starting with his failure to save him the night he died. Then Neville nodded and spoke out loud.
"To Draco Malfoy--devoted husband, beloved father, loyal son, uncommon friend."
And with those final words, he said farewell to his friend at last, and hoped to meet him again one day beyond the veil.
* * *
Uncommon Friends by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: The end! Thanks to Jess for a lovely picture to write, and to Natalie too. :)
And if you are wondering what I think you might be wondering, the answer is yes. But I doubt I'll write a sequel. ;)