OF VICTORIES AND LOSSES
AN - Sooo. This is probably one of my personal favorites out of all the things I've done. I'm a notorious pan-shipper, and although I ship Ginny/Harry, I think I ship Ginny/Neville a tiny, teeny bit more. And this is my contribution to the horribly under-staffed, angst-filled Gin/Nev cause. For now. Even if this IS mostly HP/GW." This takes place pre-epilogue but post-DH (as a lot of my HP fics do). This fic is basically a letter written to Neville from Ginny on the night before Harry's year's graduation - I like to imagine she folded it up on his pillow for him to find. Or something. Basically, it's just a summing up of all they've been through in a friendly sort of way... Anything you recognize I don't own. Review or Neville will get stuck in the disappearing stair-step on his way up to Gryffindor tower... again ...and we all know this makes for an unhappy Neville! Nev-- Did you know that you haven’t smiled in over four hours? I know, Nev, because I’ve been sitting, curled up in that armchair by the fire watching you. You’ve gotten through the motions; nodding, chit-chatting, biting you fingernails like it’s going out of style (but really, Neville? It was never in style in the first place!) but no smiles. That’s not at all like you - the you I know. But don’t worry - I won’t bother asking why you haven’t smiled in so long. It’s pointless. You know and I know, so I’m in no position to force you to say it. That would simply be cruel, and I fancy myself a civil person, despite all that I’ve been forced to do. I’ll move on to lighter subjects, and I’ll smile to myself (since you seem so dead-set against doing it) about how these topics were some of the worst before Hogwarts. It’s always seemed like all the teachers and the classes have given you such cause to grieve. Except for Herbology and Professor Sprout - and here, historians might speculate about the probability of your grade in that class merely being a fluke, but I - and everyone else who has known you personally - knows otherwise. Yes, I did just write ‘graduating’. Sure, despite all of our moaning and groaning over the years, I’m going to miss it as much as you, but I think this avoiding of the word is silly and childish - and children is one of the many things we no longer are - and childhood is one of the things we won’t be able to get back. Harry proposed to me. There, I got it out - I know, I know, it came out of no where, but I’ve just been dieing to tell someone, but I can’t stand the girly squealing and carrying on, and since you probably won’t get this letter for a good couple of hours, (and I really can’t see you squealing, at least) I can have gotten it off my chest and stay out of the public’s eye for a little while longer. But yes, Harry proposed - and of course I accepted. And I’ve also decided that I won’t be staying with my N.E.W.T.S - so I’ll be graduating with you lot. I’m so excited, Neville! I mean, I really do love him; what more could I really want then Harry? But somehow… I’m just not that happy. Anxious, excited, nervous, and happy, but not happy. Merlin, Neville, what could possibly be wrong with me? But this letter is about you, not me. Have you noticed how drastically the world has changed around us, or is it just me? Not in the obvious respect, I mean - I’m not talking about how he committed genocide and broke so many lives and homes - but in the smaller ways. Either way, the world is crumbling at our feet. So many problems; I think of these and no wonder you haven’t smiled in so long - but then I think of all our victories, miniscule and ridiculously huge and it becomes a much more complex mystery why you haven’t smiled in so long. Sure - I haven’t suffered near the hardships you have (don’t think your sadness has been lost in poor Harry’s; you have not been forgotten, Neville). Sure - I’ve always been far more optimistic than you. Sure - this has been the most terrible year of our lives and despite our great victory, all we can see is great loss. Sure - we are about to leave (most likely forever) the place that has been our home for so many years. But still. You have no excuse, Neville. We are saved and we are not stupid. We can rebuild, we can learn to trust again and, yes, it will take effort, and, yes, we have many losses to accommodate for, but we will survive. You will survive. And you were a hero! You told me, later, that it was just an act, remember? I tired to convince you otherwise, but you acted so stubborn, so stubborn that I’m sure that all of that time we spent together this year must’ve ended up rubbing a bit of me off on you. So for once I will give in and say that, at the very least you acted the part of a hero well. For your sake I’ll stick to that story, too, because no matter how many time I tell you that you aren’t that good of an actor you still won’t listen. I know I’m going about this in a terribly round-about way, but do not mourn the loss of your childhood, Neville. We were never children, we never had childhood. We were born in a time of death and destruction and grief, and our only hope is that it really is over and that at least our children might be happy. There is a life waiting for us out there, somewhere. I expect to see you living it with the same strength I saw you fight with to make sure it would be there in the first place. Love-- Ginny Weasley --Cayenne
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