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No grand celebration followed their victory like it did in the novels he’d read as a child. Everyone was worn down by the war. The memories still fresh of their loved ones and strangers dying before their very eyes. Enemy or not, the way someone’s body crumpled to the floor after being hit by the killing curse would haunt him forever. Not a single person who had survived smiled at him as Neville walked through the courtyard.
The bodies that remained had tarps thrown over them, waiting for somebody to come and bury them. The luscious wild growth that had been crawling up the side of the buildings had turned to a grimy muck and ash that seeped down. What had been his home for years was in ruins. Gaping holes, charred wood, the cracked stone of the walkways…
Maybe he should’ve waited another day before coming back here.
Plenty of people were holed up in their homes or gathered at the Leaky Cauldron, merely existing and forgetting the problems now that they weren’t in immediate danger. Taking a break from it all. They knew they’d have to get back to work, fix things, but… some time away was needed.
Yet here he was.
Back at Hogwarts and just staring at the carnage… There were a few other people around, mostly tending to the bodies, stepping around the debris and laying out caskets. So their families could mourn them properly, and so the stench of death might slowly fade away.
Professor McGonagall stood tall over a group of volunteers, her expression neutral as she ordered them around. Up until she looked over at him. Her facial features softened, and her lips formed the words, ‘Go home. You've done enough.’
Except it didn’t really feel like it.
There must have been more he could’ve done at the time. More he could do now. If only he could make his feet move towards the school.
‘I have this task under control. Go.’
The tension eased from his shoulders and he gave her a singular nod before turning and trudging the way he came. Except he didn’t stop in the courtyard. He continues past the stone archway to the treeline and disappears into the thicket.
Neville had never been the best with people. Plants on the other hand? He knew them, and there’d been fighting in the forest that day. There’d likely be some damage he could undo, tend to the roots of an old oak or any other manner of foliage.
He continued forward, stepping around logs and broken branches until he heard a quiet buzzing sound to his right. For a moment it took him out of the quiet of his mind, bringing him back to the fact he was wandering the Forbidden Woods with little thought.
Then there was a short giggle, another soft buzzing sound, and a… flapping of leather wings?
There’s no way a dragon was here, was there? Voldemort had tried to command a few of them, but he could've sworn there was no magic that could control such an ancient creature.
Something snorted. Twigs crunched and cracked underfoot as a woman squealed. Neville had his wand out in seconds and slid around a tree, pushing through the underbrush to step out into a clearing-
Only to stop and stare at the obsidian leather stretched over a thin skeletal frame before him. Large dark wings sprouted from its back, but they hardly looked strong enough to carry the creature. A long thin tail flicked back and forth in the air as it stared at the silver-haired girl in front of it with big eyes, nudging at her hand with its snout and neighing.
“Oh stop it. I’m fine.” Luna Lovegood laughs as she strokes the leathery snout from her spot on the forest floor. “You on the other hand…”
Neville lowers his wand when he sees the flank of the foal, a slice of flesh missing. It must have gotten nicked by a spell during the fight.
Luna crawls over to its side, picking up a container from the ground she must have dropped and dipping her fingers in. “Now, try not to move so much this time, okay?”
The… horse thing stared at her with wide eyes, neighing once more. Neville noted the sheen to part of its flank where Luna must have tried to apply the balm before and stepped forward. A twig snapping beneath his foot.
The foal jerks its head back, looking at him now and squealing.
“Hush.” Luna presses a palm to the creature before turning to look over her shoulder. “Ah, Neville. Did you come to check on the thestrals as well?”
Thestral? Ah, right. The ‘invisible’ horses that pulled the carriages the rest of the way to Hogwarts and back to the train station. He remembered them from his lessons now. He just… hadn’t quite seen them before. He supposes everyone at Hogwarts will be able to see them now. That was a sickening thought.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He slips his wand back into his pocket, watching the foal before taking a tentative step forward so he doesn’t startle the beast again.
“Oh, no worries. He’ll forgive you, too. They are very understanding creatures. I imagine he knows you don’t mean any harm.” Luna turns back to the thestral, her fingers stroking down its spine before placing the balm on its wound.
The thestral neighs, throwing its head back a little and Neville moves forward to place his hands on the side of its face, looking into the large eyes. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Shh, the balm will help you heal, okay?” He keeps a hold of the creature, murmuring assurances as Luna continues covering the wound in the balm. “Do you… know what struck it?”
“Not precisely. I don’t think the spell was very refined. It was probably a blast of wild magic, largely unmolded. Whoever did it probably didn’t even intend to hurt the poor thing.”
Because they’d been aiming at something else. Someone else.
Neville shivers, trying not to think of what had occurred here only a few days ago.
Something brushes against his side and he jerks for a moment, looking over to see Luna is done applying the balm, as her hand is currently laying on his forearm. “Would you like some as well? The ointment smells good, calms the nerves and helps close any cuts.”
“Um, I uh… sure.” He lets go of the thestral who quickly lowers itself to lay on the ground, apparently content now.
Luna chuckles, dipping her fingers back into the balm. “Just a sure?” She raises her hand and it's not until she’s touching his face that he realizes what he must look like. Still scarred from the battle, blasted by spells and bits of debris. The cuts on his face sting as she gently rubs the ointment in, pressing it along his cheeks, forehead, just above his lip…
Oh.
She was right. “It smells a bit like sunshine,” he says, then regrets it a second later. “Ah, I mean… sunshine doesn’t really have a smell. It’s just… light. Floral?” It’s not like any of the herbs he’s worked with and he struggles to explain the scent so he doesn’t sound like a fool.
Luna merely smiles at him, moving to place more of the balm on his exposed arms. “It does smell a bit like sunshine. Like a hot hearth and a warm mug of coffee.”
“Yeah…” Neville murmurs, blinking as he watches her move. Applying the ointment just as gently as she did with the foal. As he looks at her he finds he doesn’t mind the sting, the tension from his body slowly slipping. “Yeah, it does.”
“I made it myself. I’m glad to hear someone else likes it. I’ve just been using it for the animals in the woods so far. No one’s had the opportunity to tell me what they think of it.” Luna’s fingers trail down his arm before she steps back, nodding. “That should do it. I still have some left. If you’d want to join me in looking for other creatures in need?”
Neville wasn’t quite sure what it was. The smell of sunshine, her smile, the way her silver hair glows in the light, the gentle touch of her fingers… That growing desire to help, barely contained by the thought of seeing so much he cares for, destroyed. Knowing it’ll take awhile until everything returns to normal. But right now, things felt less chaotic and sure.
“Yes. I’d like that.”