The Forgotten 7th Year

Back for Easter

My chapter names are so creative

Neville's POV

All too soon, the Hogwarts Express rolled into King's Cross. I didn't want to be at Hogwarts, with the Carrows, but my house reminded me of everything I didn't have.

The train screeched to a halt, and I slowly got up. I glanced out the tinted window. Gran was checking her watch.

My feet felt like granite as I plodded toward the door. Meanwhile, Ginny sprinted out like the compartment was on fire.

I didn't want to go back, I didn't want to be eternally reminded of everything that was taken from me.

I didn't want to be the kid with the crazy parents, I just wanted to be Neville.

I was Neville here. I wouldn't be out there. It would just be me and Gran in the empty house that was too big for us.

Gran's foot began to tap an impatient rhythm, and I forced myself into movement once more. First one foot, then the other.

I'm being stupid.

I walked faster, my steps making an oddly hollow noise against the floor. I grabbed my trunk and hauled it down with a very faint grunt.

Hannah was waiting for me outside the train. I kissed her softly, and Gran's face changed to absolute shock.

"See you next week." My face brightened. Suddenly being away from Hogwarts didn't seem so bad at all.

Her eyes darted up over my shoulder. I turned, already knowing who was there.

Her dad's scowl was like a thundercloud; his eyes practically crackling with angry lightning.

A fear both same and different from the one I'd lived with daily filled me. I quickly grabbed Gran's arm, and turned into blackness. As my lungs constricted, Gran's arm tensed as she took control of the apperation.

The darkness cleared, and I found the all too familiar red brick building looming in front of me. My stomach dropped slightly. It wasn't that I didn't want to see my parents, I did.

I just didn't want them to be my parents.

The thought was repulsive, and I shoved it away to the deep recesses of my mind. I'd never exactly been as proud of their sacrifice as I knew I should have been; Gran would've sewn it on my clothes if I'd let her.

But this feeling was new. This clawing, screeching monster of sadness, anger, loss, and other, unknowable emotions.

Gran turned to me.

"Who was that girl?"

"Hannah." I mumbled.

"And, are my eyes finally going, or did you miss her cheek?"

"What?" I was confused.

"You see, I could have sworn your kiss hit her lips, but as I recall, I never received a wedding invitation."

Oh

"Yes, well..." I was ever so tempted to tell her my suspicions about Michael and Padma, but I bit my tongue before I could. "These days..."

She waved her hand dismissively.

"'These days' is just an excuse. When I was your age, your grandfather went though the proper courting rituals by asking me on long walks, and getting embarrassed when he held my hand. Not this exhibition of over-affection."

"Can we just go in?"

"No."

The lecture went on. And on. And on.

And on.

Ginny's POV

Through the train's window, I caught a glimpse of red hair, that was all it took. I abandoned my trunk and sped from the compartment. Outside, the air was smoky.

I slammed into mum, and wrapped my arms around her. She stroked my back soothingly. I started to shake, and suddenly I was wracked with sobs.

"Hey, what's wrong." I shook my head. I can't tell her, I can't tell her. Not about the close calls or the brutal punishments, or everything Amycus had done and tried to do. I couldn't tell anyone.

"Everything's fine. I just missed you." She still looked skeptical.

"It's those teachers, isn't it?" I froze, then nodded slowly.

"What did they do!" She growled. She looked as if she was going to personally rip their heads from their bodies, and I hadn't even told her yet.

"Nothing, well not much." She still looked livid so I lied, "They hit me. That's all."

"That's all!? Oh, no big deal, it doesn't matter. I'm going to exterminate them." She muttered darkly. "I was worried the second I heard they had Death Eaters teaching, but I never thought... Oh baby." She hugged me tightly.

I sighed in happiness. Good thing I didn't tell her the truth.