the hallows - f. weasley

- c h a p t e r - t w e n t y-e i g h t -

 All she could hear was her ragged breaths and the deafening sound of her heart picking up speed.

Harry was sitting on the carpeted ground–staring off into nothing, his eyes glazed and his face as white as snow.

The two didn't move for what felt like a thousand years until he stood, looking at her.

His eyes filled with unshed, knowing tears as he choked out, "I...What am I to do, Gemma?"

She could feel herself unwinding again.

She could feel herself getting ready to fall into a chasm of sorrow, she just took his hand and whispered honestly, "I don't know..."

He looked distraught at her lack of answers, placing his forehead against hers, and murmured, "I'm scared."

She could barely force the words out of her mouth as she clung to his hands, fighting back tears, "You're...You're not alone, Har."

They stayed like that for another long moment before they silently walked side by side out of the office–hand in hand through the silent castle.

Nobody–no ghost, portrait, professor, or student alike–was about. No one saw the two mirrors of the past walking to arm's of Death, or saw them duck under the Invisibility Cloak when they neared where they knew people would be. No one saw their horrified reactions when Oliver Wood and Neville were working together to carry Colin Creevy's terrifyingly limp body before the former announced that he could carry the small boy alone.

Gemma knew the little Gryffindor had already been embraced by Death, and all she could do was pray for solace for his family and that Death treated him kindly.

Neville looked fifty times his age as he leaned against the wall before heading back into the darkness of the night to find more of his fallen school mates.

Harry's hand was so tight around Gemma's that she was sure he was going to break a few bones as he tugged her with him–away from the destruction of the inside of Hogwarts and where Neville was kneeling over a body.

"Neville," Harry called in a hoarse voice.

"Blimey, Harry, you nearly gave me heart failure!" Harry had pulled off the Cloak from around himself and Gemma as Neville looked between them in concern, "Where are you going, alone?"

Gemma couldn't even think about speaking as Harry shook his head and said, "It's all part of the plan. There's something I've got to do. Listen—Neville—"

"Harry!" Neville's eyes were enormous as he looked into Gemma's tight expression and then back at her brother. "Harry, you're not thinking of handing yourself over?"

"No," Harry lied smoothly–probably having taken a page from Gemma's book. " 'Course not...this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Voldemort's snake, Neville? He's got a huge snake...Calls it Nagini..."

"I've heard, yeah...What about it?"

"It's got to be killed. Ron and Hermione know that, but just in case they—" Harry paused for a second, looking over at Gemma in horror before looking back at Neville and starting again, "Just in case they're—busy—and you get the chance—"

"Kill the snake?"

"Kill the snake," Harry repeated with a nod.

"All right, Harry..." Neville stared at Harry for a long second before looking at Gemma pointedly, "You're okay, aren't you?"

"We're fine. Thanks, Neville," Harry replied for her.

Neville reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist before he could escape, "We're all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?"