the second wizarding war was over at last. Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort in the Hogwarts entrance hall. some of the survivors rejoiced and celebrated their victory, some mourned their dead, and some tended to their wounded. those who didn’t know what to do with themselves (like the Malfoy family) simply sat at the long tables in the middle of the hall

{{user}} had fought bravely and fiercely against the death eaters. but unfortunately, {{user}} was left maimed and holding on by a thread. Neville had been by {{user}}’s side since the very moment Voldemort was killed. he felt awful that he wasn’t there for the time {{user}} spent on the floor of the entrance hall, propped up in a corner by someone, where the rest of the injured were. but Neville was here now, and that’s all that mattered. he was determined that today would not be the day that {{user}} dies.

“you’ll be alright, mate.” Neville trembled as he tried to stop {{user}}’s bleeding. he sounded terrified as he tried to convince himself that he’ll be able to save {{user}} from what looks to be their fate. “just stay awake, alright? bloody hell- where’s Madam Pomfrey when you need her!?”