Work Text:
Harry, Ron and Hermione fought their war, hiding and running, in the cold and the rain, finding fragments of a soul to destroy them before they destroyed theirs. But Ginny, Neville and Luna, and all those other kids fought one too, inside the walls of a castle, with pale faces and bold smirks, wiping the blood off of their mouths, falling and standing up again, shaky knees and defiant looks.
You might say, it was the same war. Same enemy, same side, same fight. And you’d be right. But let us talk about the Silver Trio now, who led an army of children from the shadows. Because the victory belongs to them, as much as it belongs to Harry.
Luna was light. She didn’t lose that, when she was kidnapped and locked in a cell. The darkness could never reach her with its gloomy fingers. She brought hope and faith and brightness, she brought it to Neville, when he stumbled; and to Ginny, when she couldn’t believe anymore. She gave them little smiles and soft advices, and they healed. Did you know that her name means moon? Because she was a dream, slipping through your fingers as soon as you wake up. Maybe she reflected all the light she could find, took it and sent it away to light up the night. Or maybe she had her own flame. Maybe she shone, as bright as the sun.
Neville was too used to let other people be the heroes. He had always been the one who stayed behind and apologized. But his stammering voice gave way to a steady and reassuring one and he clenched his fists and refused to break and defied the world. He stood up and fought and he found the courage and took it, because it was his and it had always been and nobody -except for a hat- had seen it, not even him. He shouted that to Voldemort’s face, and the Dark Wizard -because he was never a lord- set him on fire; and Neville answered by killing the last -second last- remnant of his soul. If Neville was not a hero, then that word doesn’t mean anything anymore.
Ginny was the redheaded one. She was a Weasley, and she was a Gryffindor, and she was bold and reckless and brave. She was in love, too, with a boy who couldn’t be with her, not yet, because he had to save the world first. Ginny used to have a voice whispering in her ear, and when that voice left, she closed the doors and breathed and healed but never forgot. I’m going to kill you, she thought, for doing that to the little girl I used to be. Because she was naïve and sweet and trusting. Ginny would never be like that again. She had been broken and she had fixed herself, but there was a scar that would never vanish. I’m going to kill you. You did, Ginny. You killed the monster and destroyed the nightmare.
Remember when they tried to steal the sword? When Neville cut off the snake’s head, and Ginny left the Room of Requirement because merlin, of course she was going to fight, and Luna closed Dobby’s eyes so that now he could sleep?
They were called silver, because the gold belonged to someone else. But silver was just as good.
If not better.