(1) 𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 | d. m

Chapter forty-nine

"Luna — where is he?" I asked with a strained voice, still heaving for air. "What aren't your telling me?!".

I knew by the desperate and tremulous sound of her voice that something terrible must have occurred in the midst of everything else. That something made her this way. Unbalanced and lost, somewhere far from planet Earth. The way her knees were shaking and her bottom lip seemed to quiver. The sound of her uneven breath and her heel tapping gently against the gravel underneath our feet. All signs pointing to there being something wrong.

"He–he's fine— I–I made sure to bring his body to safety. I didn't want him to be alone out there, Laney. H—he looked so lonely. I couldn't leave him. Not there".

I placed a gentle hand on Luna's shoulder, trying my best to understand the situation. What was she implying?

No, this had to be some sort of sick joke. An untimely agreement between Neville and Luna to scare me.

"No. You're making this up. Why are you doing this? It's not funny, and if you don't bring me to him this instance, I'll hex you into oblivion, the both of you".

"Laney—"

"—No! Quit fooling around. This isn't the time for unsolicited dad jokes. Now— bring me to him, or I'll never speak to either of you again".

I felt the tears start to prickle behind my bloodshot eyes. My lungs felt like they weren't functioning properly, and I couldn't for the life of me, figure out why my heart was suddenly trying to burst out of my chest.

The very thing she was implying was the very thing I feared the most; losing the people closest to me. Losing the people I care about, the people I love, and I wasn't about to recognise that as a possible truth.

Because he wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

Not the boy who tried his outmost to make me laugh, even when all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry.

Not the boy who got his heart broken in two when I finally told him of the real reason I came to Hogwarts in the first place, and who forgave me just as quickly for being the worlds worst best friend.

Not the boy who managed to chug down four butter beers within the span of fifteen minutes without complaining.

Not the boy who showed me the Room of Requirement because he so desperately wanted to make me smile again after everything that happened with Draco and I.

Not the boy who had been through so much trauma in his life, and who still did everything in his power to make me feel appreciated and loved.

Not him.

Not my Neville.

It felt like I spent forever cooped up within the invisible walls of my bubble of reminiscence, and when the moment came when I finally returned to planet Earth once more — the painful truth hit me like a cannon ball onto oncoming traffic.

I wasn't having it.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

As I stood there — dazed and confused — looking out over the ghostly version of the once so beautiful Great Hall, I forced myself to yet again come face to face with my own conflicting feelings. Trying to compartmentalise each and every troubling thought going through my brain. Stressing over the fact that I had now lost two of the most important people in my life.

Draco.

Neville.

Everything seemed so hopeless, yet in a enticing kind of way. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the moon was hanging overhead like a neon sign, guiding our way through an otherwise terribly deplorable time in our lives. Nothing was ever going to be the same, and countless lives had been lost due to the evil that was at large.