Out of the Shadows [Book Three]

As The Battle Ends:

dedicated to TheWackyGirl because she is absolutely an amazing friend; and I appreciate how much thought she puts into each of my stories as she reads and all of the questions she asks that nobody else ever does, despite how important the questions are

He'd done his fair share of crying once everything was over and done with.  He cried for the students who he carried into the Great Hall, he cried for the Weasley's who lost a beloved son, he cried for himself as he bent over his own grandmother's body.

But there were no more tears left when he saw her lying on the ground.  Nobody had picked her up and moved her to the place of the dead, nobody cried over her body like so many other dead were having done to them. 

She just lay there, her eyes void of the life he had so come to cherish.  She was alone and it broke his heart as he crouched over her body and let his fingers move to close the eyelids so that she would look more asleep than dead.  But nobody could mistake her palour as a living creature's.  He knew that but he tried anyway. 

He did not cry, he'd cried too much as it was and he knew she wouldn't appreciate it.  She valued bravery over everything else, it was why he'd tried so hard to be braver, he worked harder than ever and became a better man than he thought possible just for her and now it felt like it was for nothing.  What was the point of fighting for a future that you weren't even guaranteed? 

Amaryllis Potter fought for a future she would never have. 

As he moved to pick her up so that she could be lined with the other empty-of-soul bodies, he heard something clacking in her cloak pockets.  He let his fingers dig into them, pulling out several wands and then a small stone. 

Leave it to Amy to pick up a rock while in the middle of a war.

Flipping the rock around in his hand, he marveled at the smooth texture and the odd markings sketched inside of it.  A triangle, a cirle and a line.  He recognized the design from somewhere but couldn't quite place it.  After flipping it around twice more, he bit his lip and thrust it into his own pocket.  Feeling the crinkle of parchment under his fingers, he let them enclose around the note that Amy had given him moments before his war truly began. 

"To Neville, for your parents. 

I've worked months on this and I'm sure I've gotten it right.  I hope I did, if not I'm sure I'll keep on working on it until I've done it but just in case something goes wrong between this moment and by the time we're able to test this, I thought you should have all the notes on it.  This should heal your parents, Nev.  Just do exactly as it says. 

Amy Potter" 

With eyes wide, he glanced at the girl who lay beside his sitting figure and he leaned against the wall for support. She'd done more for him than he could ever have properly thanked her for and now he would never get the chance to even try. 

He never even got to tell her how he felt. 

He would do anything to bring her back, but he knew that couldn't happen.  Nothing could revive the dead, everyone knew that. 

A movement caught his eye and as he glanced up he saw Harry, her brother, looking for her.  Neville knew he was looking for Amy.  It was only a moment later that they made eye contact and he could see the moment he noticed Amy Potter lying on the ground.  She had been small in life but she was tiny in death; tiny but not insignificant; one look into Harry's eyes could tell you that. 

It was her birthday, she was only seventeen, but here she lay, dead.  Barely of age, one of the best spell designers of their generation and nobody would ever know it but him and a few close friends.  Nobody else would ever get to see just how amazing Harry's younger sister was.  No one else would ever know. 

Neville left her brother with her and sat several feet away to give them privacy but he could not stop staring at the girl who had made all of the difference in his life.  She'd made a cure for his parents, she helped him be brave, she saved his life and survived hours of torture and crippling disabilities and she was the bravest Gryffindor he had ever met. 

With a hand in his pocket, clutching the stone he found in her own pocket, he let it flip over in his palm a few times, all the while staring at the brown haired, green eyed girl who was dead and tragically alone.  Though he knew it was impossible, he couldn't stop wishing for the girl to spring back to life, bellow out a 'just kidding', and prove everyone wrong. 

He just wanted to be wrong.  So long he'd spent his life trying to be right, to show everyone that he wasn't an idiot, he could do things correctly, he was meant for Gryffindor and not Hufflepuff like everyone had told him.  But in this one instance, this one moment.. he just wanted to be wrong. 

He heard the gasp and thought nothing of it until it was followed by several more, dozens more in fact, and it finally caused him to look up from the stone he'd been turning in his hand to find out what had caught everyone else's attention. 

Following everyone else's stares he could see Harry Potter hugging his younger sister.

She was hugging him back. 

[[A/N: I THINK THIS CALLS FOR A SHORT STORY SEQUEL, WHAT ABOUT YOU GUYS?  YOU HAD BETTER LEAVE SOME AWESOME COMMENTS FOR ME BECAUSE IT TOOK ME HOURS TO DECIDE WHETHER I SHOULD MAKE HER LIVE OR DIE HONESTLY.  I love killing off my main characters so the fact that I didn't do it had better make you all very happy!]]