–Hannah…will you marry me?â€
He practiced the words over and over in front of the mirror, trying to gather enough courage to say them for real. Sure, he had stood up to Lord Voldemort, he had once killed a massive snake, he had helped to lead a student resistance, but he couldn’t look Hannah Abbott in the eye and ask her to marry him.
He sighed and turned his back on his reflection, disgusted with it. The early July sunlight filled his small flat, and he sat down on his sofa, next to his Mimbulus mimbletonia, his most prized cultivation. The plant seemed to be crooning softly and swaying slowly. He remembered how he had almost destroyed it once, prodding it with a quill that almost went too far. Pathetic.
His flat was plain, but comfortable. There were several large windows, covered with plain curtains. The furniture was simple and sparse. The sofa he was sitting on, a small coffee table made of dark wood. There were magazines and papers scattered on it: Herbologist’s Hour, The Daily Prophet, Review of English Magical Gardens. His own notes and sketches, still a mess from his hasty searches for reminders on the characteristics of this plant or that seed. Most of the room was filled with magical plants. The bookshelf was covered with pots and containers, seed packets and jars of fertilizer. Planters were scattered about the room, taller cultivations reaching upward. Usually, his plants fascinated him constantly. He couldn’t focus on them today, though. Right now, they reminded him too much of loneliness and of trying to run from the things that held him down.
An owl tapped at his window, interrupting his self-deprecating thoughts. He opened the pane and let the bird flutter in, where it finally settled on the table. It held out its leg, a look of supreme smugness for its delivery crossing its feathered features.
He laughed as he untied the letter. He may be better with plants, but time with Luna had given him a greater understanding and appreciation of animals, their habits and personalities. He turned his attention back to the letter, tearing it open as he sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen of his little flat.
–Dear Neville,
Exciting news! Ginny had the baby. We’ve decided to name him Albus Severus, after Professors Dumbledore and Snape.
We’d love to see you, Neville, if you can make it out here. We’re thinking of having a little party for the old DA group. We know you’re really busy with your work, but it’s been a few years and it’d be good to see you. There’s got to be some kind of rare plant out here in Godric’s Hollow, right? Try and come. You’ll know the date.
Best,
Harryâ€.
Neville smiled at the postscript under Harry’s signature: –Hoping to see you soon Neville! Ginnyâ€.
It was true; it had been years since he had seen his friends. He corresponded with them regularly, of course, but, he realized, he’d never seen Harry and Ginny’s first son, James. He’d be two by now? Three? And he’d gotten a letter from Ron and Hermione a few weeks ago announcing the birth of their first child, a girl.
Children. His best friends were having sons and daughters, and Neville couldn’t even bring himself to ask Hannah to marry him. He buried his face in his hands.
He knew marrying her would make him happier than he had ever been. But something was holding him back, and he wasn’t sure what it was. Hadn’t they talked just a few weeks ago, before he went to Holland, about how they loved each other? She had to be expecting it soon.
Maybe he would go to Godric’s Hollow. A bit of a vacation would probably do him good. And he could see if his best friends could offer any help.
–You’ll know the date?†he muttered to himself, searching Harry’s letter again. There was no date written anywhere that he could see.
Suddenly, he caught sight of the sentence above the cryptic clue. Neville laughed to himself. Of course. It was probably Hermione’s idea, or maybe Ginny’s. Just a little old joke.
Neville went searching for his box of most treasured items. Inside lay what to most people would look like junk: gum wrappers, a broken wand, a scratched Remeberall. Letters, their parchment beginning to yellow. And lying in one corner, still shining, was what he was looking for: a fat, golden, and entirely fake Galleon. He smiled as he examined it and saw that the serial number clearly spelled out a date a fortnight away. The party date. Neville flipped the coin onto his desk, pulled out parchment and a quill, and began to write a response.
***
Two weeks later, he stood on the steps leading to the little white cottage with green trim where Harry and Ginny lived. He had sent the smug owl back with a positive answer, but a part of him was still unsure if he should be there at all. That is, until Harry flung the door open and grinned at Neville broadly.
–Neville!†he cried, standing back to allow his friend in. –Come in, mate, come in!â€
The kitchen was a bit crowded but cheery. Ginny sat on a rocking chair, gently rocking a small bundle. She smiled as Neville came in. Harry picked up the toddler that was squealing in a high chair. Ron and Hermione were there too, Hermione holding a little girl with bright eyes wrapped in a pink velvet blanket.
Neville greeted all of them, shaking hands with Harry and Ron and embracing Ginny and Hermione as best he could around the babies. He then turned his attention to the children in their parents’ arms.
–Neville, this is our oldest son, James,†Harry said, bouncing the little boy. He had Harry’s untidy dark hair and jam smeared around his mouth. He laughed. Neville couldn’t help but laugh with him. James hid his face in his dad’s shoulder.
–And this,†Ginny smiled, –is our new boy, Al.†She held out the bundle, and, before he knew what he was doing, Neville had taken the little boy.
The bright green eyes were almost startling, just like Harry’s, but the weight of the baby was steady, a comfortable weight. Within that one moment, Neville knew he didn’t want anything to happen to this sweet child who smiled up at him. And something awakened in Neville; he wasn’t sure he could name it. He cooed at Al and then handed him back to his mother.
Hermione smiled. –This is our daughter, Rose,†she said.
Neville picked up the little girl as well. Already, she seemed to look at everything with intelligent eyes.
–She’s going to be just like you, Hermione,†he said.
She laughed. –Let’s hope she’s not exactly like me.â€
Ron snorted. –Well, we don’t want her to be like me, do we? Better she’s like you.†They smiled at each other.
Neville smiled, but he was uneasy. How could they be so nonchalant? Were his parents like this? Did they hold him and act as if the whole world were right, not knowing that within a year they would lose their minds? Did his father look at his mother’s face and not know what danger he was putting her in?
In one broad stroke, it hit him; he couldn’t marry Hannah because he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk seeing her hurt because of who he was, what he had done. He couldn’t bear to have children when things could be so dangerous.
Soon, there was another knock at the door. Some of these old friends Neville hadn’t seen in years, not since the Battle of Hogwarts or soon after. First came Seamus Finnigan, who greeted Neville with a roar of delight; they had become rather close when the all the other boys in their dormitory had had to run for it their last year at Hogwarts, but hadn’t seen each other in a few years.
Next was Dean Thomas, with his wife on one arm and a beautiful portrait, painted by Dean from an old photograph, of the original DA under the other. Luna came soon after, a yellow flower tucked behind her ear. She and Ginny rushed to each other, and Luna took little Al as the two friends chatted excitedly.
The room began to fill with old friends, and a smile was on every face. Neville greeted each one of his old friends enthusiastically, but he still felt uneasy.
Last of all came Hannah. Her face lit up when she saw Neville, and he opened his arms for her. It had been too long since they had been together; they had both been busy. It felt so natural to have her by his side, though. It just felt right. But before they could say anymore but loving greetings, Harry spoke.
–All right, everyone, settle down!†he called over the noise. Neville flashed back to the very first DA meeting as everyone’s eyes turned to Harry. –If you’ll all come out into the garden, we’re going to have dinner now.â€
The guest all gathered out in the back garden. It was delightfully wild, full of both magical and regular plants. A large crabapple tree shaded the back corner, and the walk was dotted with blooming Flutterby bushes in clay pots, swaying softly.
The table was laden with the most delicious looking dishes, bottles of butterbeer and pitchers of lemonade. In the center was a large birthday cake.
–You’ve outdone yourself, Ginny,†said Dean as he pulled out his wife’s chair.
Ginny smiled. –Actually, it was mostly Hermione; I just helped a bit here and there.â€
Hermione blushed. –Please. It was mostly Molly’s recipe book, you know that.â€
Neville sat down next to Hannah. She had been talking animatedly with Susan, who was sitting on her other side, and Ernie, who was next to Susan, but she turned and smiled at Neville when he sat down. She reached over and squeezed his hand.
–How was Holland?†she asked.
Neville didn’t have time to answer her before Harry stood again, glass in hand.
–I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight,†he began, beaming at them all. –Today, we’re here to celebrate some very happy occasions. First, in a few days, both Neville and I will celebrate our birthdays.†There was a smattering of applause. –Next, we are celebrating the new additions to the Potter and Weasley families, Al and Rose.†Everyone smiled. –And finally, we are here to celebrate what happened eight years ago. We are here to celebrate the people who fought back, even though no one thought they could. We are here to celebrate the people we lost, as well. People who should be sitting here with us, who sat with us in the Room of Requirement when we first formed Dumbledore’s Army.†Harry took a deep breath. –Fred, Colin, Lavender, and all the others who stayed and fought, and are now gone.†His raised his glass in a toast. –To them,†he simply said.
The others all raised their glasses in response, and then drank deeply. The mood was somber for a bit, but then Ginny broke it by beginning to dish up food. Soon, they were talking about what they had been up to the past few years.
Dean was talking about his art. –It’s almost a lost form, you know? So few people seem interested in the arts these days. I think it’s time it was included in the Hogwarts curriculum. I’ve actually been in talks with McGonagall about it, I think I may nearly have her convinced…â€
Ginny was listening to Luna describe her recent trip to the northwestern United States, searching for nargles. –We were in a beautiful forest, and I could see signs of them everywhere, you know, but somehow we just couldn’t catch up to them. They are very adept at swinging from tree to tree, of course. So he climbed up in one of the trees, but he didn’t know that it was the home of bowtruckles, and we had no wood lice. Poor thing, he came down all scratched up and feeling so bad for disturbing them…â€
Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Ernie were retelling stories from their time at school.
–You remember, third year, that night we tried to see who could throw the Fanged Frisbee down the hall the farthest, and Filch came around the corner and nearly walked right into it?â€
–Good thing Harry remember that hidden door, right? We were goners if he had found us!â€
–We used to throw those things outside the windows of our dormitory when we could see people walking by, see their reactions.â€
The conversation swirled around Neville, and he felt lost in it, as if he were drowning. All his friends seemed to have moved on, to be living their lives; why couldn’t he do the same?
Hannah smiled at him, and it hit his heart like a thrown stone. He loved her, he knew that for sure. It was incredibly painful.
–Harry, we never did hear the whole story of the year you were gone.â€
Harry laughed a bit hollowly. –That’s a long one, and you’ve heard most of it. There’s really not much else to tell.†He looked over at Ron and Hermione, who smiled wryly. –But we never did hear much about what is was like for the rest of you.â€
Seamus grinned at Neville, who looked down at his plate quickly.
–Well, for a while, we weren’t sure what to do,†said Seamus. –The Carrows started to crack down on everything. They seemed to know just who the old DA memebers were, and they were keeping tabs on us.â€
–We used to go out though, try to drum up resistance, keep people’s hopes up,†piped up Michael Corner, tipping his chair back on two legs.
–But then things turned nasty,†said Terry Boot, leaning on the table. –We decided it was time to give up the stunts, find other ways to fight back.â€
–Then Neville disappeared one day,†said Seamus, –And the Carrows came after me, looking for information.†He rubbed his arm, as if remembering the old wounds. –They beat me pretty badly. Lucky Neville here found me that night and got me to the Room of Requirement, where he was hiding out.â€
–I found you a few days later, right?†Hannah asked. Neville nodded. –I nearly hexed you at first. I wasn’t sure who you were. The Carrows were after me too – they knew I’d been sneaking food from the kitchen for the first years they were torturing.â€
–They came after us one by one,†Ernie frowned, –And soon word got out that the only safe place left was the Room of Requirement. We got all of the DA that was left there, and some of the younger kids who were associated with us, or that the Carrows were roughing up.â€
–Neville had it all set up,†Luna smiled serenely. –He was an excellent leader, reminding us all why we were doing this.â€
–Not to mention the way he had the Room of Requirement practically locked down to anyone we didn’t want to be there,†Susan added.
Everyone around the table nodded and looked to Neville. He continued to look down. He didn’t want to think about those days.
–Neville? Are you all right? You’ve been so quiet,†Ginny said, turning to him, her brow furrowed in confusion. His friends all looked at him expectantly, waiting for his response.
Neville looked up, trying to clear his expression. –What? Oh, yes. I just…I think I’ll take a walk. It’s been a long day.†He stood and walked slowly away from the table and out the front gate.
Godric’s Hollow was a beautiful place, idyllic, but Neville was nearly blind to it all. He couldn’t risk anything happening to Hannah, and as a key member of the destruction of Voldemort, he would surely be a target for any lingering Death Eaters. Eight years wasn’t long enough to ensure they were safe. At any moment, someone could attack.
The hand that touched him made him spin around and reach for his wand. Ginny looked back at him warily.
–Neville, are you sure you’re all right?†Her brown eyes were full of concern. –Tell me what’s wrong.â€
He looked down at her. That last year at Hogwarts, they had become close friends as they, along with Luna, worked to support Harry from within Hogwarts. He had always admired Ginny’s strength; though Harry was gone, and her brother and her best friend were in danger, and she hadn’t heard much from her family, she carried on. It had been her idea to try and steal the sword of Gryffindor to get to Harry, Ron and Hermione. She had fully supported reinstating the DA, and Neville had always felt surer of himself when he knew she and Luna were there to help him. But she was so happy now with Harry, and their kids, and Ron and Hermione nearby. How could he spoil that with his reality?
–How do you do it?†he blurted, sitting on a bench near an old war memorial, staring up at the stars. –How do you just keep…living? As if nothing happened?â€
Ginny sat next to him. –I don’t think we ever forget what happened, or that we ever will. There are still nights where Harry wakes up from nightmares, days where I think I hear Fred’s voice, or Remus’, or Tonks’, and I turn around and they’re not there…it all hits me again. Some days, it’s hard.†She sighed. –And sometimes, I look at our boys and ask myself if we’ve done something crazy, if we’ve put them in so much danger they didn’t deserve.†Her eyes misted over, and she bit her lip.
Then she took a deep breath and continued. –But then Harry smiles at something, or James makes me laugh, or I hold Al for a while and see his perfect green eyes staring at the world in wonder, and I know that things are okay. I look outside and I see sunshine and Teddy running in the garden, my brothers and their families all together, and I know that things will be okay. Harry’s scar never hurts him anymore, did you know that? He’s kind of made a habit of running his fingers over it when he’s thinking, though.†She looked at Neville’s still worried face. –We made a promise that we would only have children in a safer world. Not a perfect world, but one that we know is even just a little bit better than the one we grew up in. And every day, I’m grateful for that.â€
Neville turned away from her and watched the sun sinking on the horizon. –I used to think that one day, I’d have just a little house in the country. A family, some greenhouses, a garden. I’d even thought about teaching at Hogwarts. But then the war happened. Things changed. They call me a hero now, and Ginny, I’m no hero. But...I can’t just have a quiet life like I thought I would.â€
–That’s why you can’t marry Hannah, isn’t it?â€
Ginny voice was soft, but it pierced Neville’s heart. He nodded. –I just don’t see how I could do that to her. I…I love her.â€
Ginny put her hand on Neville’s arm. –We have to celebrate the little things, Neville. We have to find the things that make us happy. It did happen. We lost people. We lost part of ourselves. But we also became ourselves. Every day, the memories remind me that we have to be grateful for what we have it. And we should celebrate that. We have to keep on living. It’s what they would want us to do. The lives we dreamed about are the reason we fought. And this life…this is worth celebrating.â€
Ginny stood and smiled. –And Neville, you are a hero.â€
Neville watched her walk back down the cobbled street. He stayed on the bench for a while, though, watching the night fade to velvety midnight blue. The stars were bright pinpricks in the sky. In the dark, they were the brightest, purest light. He sat watching them until the lights on the porches of the cottages down the street began to turn on. Then, he stood himself and walked back to the Potters’ house.
He found Hannah in the garden, leaning against the garden wall and looking up at the sky, her golden hair streaming over her shoulder. Lights shimmered in the trees, and the sound of laughter and music wafted out into the air.
For the first time in a long time, he opened his eyes to the night and breathed freely. Maybe he would be okay. Maybe he could find something worth celebrating. Ginny was right; that was the reason they had fought, wasn’t it? To keep living. He made his way to Hannah and stood next to her, a soft smile forming on his face.
The wind made the leaves of the trees dance, and a sudden draft of the Flutterby bushed passed by him, and he could suddenly smell a hundred things at once, all memories. One was clearest of all. Neville gasped.
–What is it?†Hannah asked.
–The Flutterbys…they only have an aroma once every hundred years. I never thought I’d experience it.â€
Hannah took his hand, and he realized that the scent of the plants was the same as her hair.
For a moment, Neville simply stood there, feeling the warmth of her hand and the breeze around their entwined fingers. He hadn’t felt this way for so long. Tonight, he wasn’t worried. Tonight, he felt alive.
Hannah’s eyes were watching him now, her eyes shining.
–Hannah, will you marry me?â€
Her smile was answer enough.
Something Worth Celebrating by Ali Wood
Story Notes:
Thanks to my fantastic cousin, whose offhand comment helped inspire this story.
This is the first published vignette in a series that strives to answer my questions of what happened in the nineteen years between the Battle of Hogwarts and the epilogue.