I'll Take Care of You (I'll Never Let You Down)

Chapter 3: Signs

As autumn progressed, and the days became colder, and the nights longer, things began to change in the atmosphere in and around Hogwarts.

While Harry had finally felt it prudent during the summer to tell the three closest to him of the Prophecy, he had been reluctant to tell anyone else. He felt certain that others would laugh, poke fun, roll their eyes, and say he was seeking attention, AGAIN. Nothing could have been farther from the truth; those who knew him best knew he had never willingly sought ANY of the attention bestowed upon him. His friends found it quite interesting that by a simple toss of Fate's dice that he was the one who had to take down Voldemort. Knowing it could just as easily have been Neville made it all the more intriguing.

At first they discussed it thoroughly among themselves, looking at all the angles of this problem. And Harry soon grew tired of it, and begged his friends to let it go; bad enough to face the cold, hard truth, but he really didn't want to think of it just then.

But Hermione, thinking long and hard about it, began to wonder if Neville might still have a part to play in the outcome of the future. She told the others what she thought, and urged that they sit Neville down and tell him the truth about the Prophecy. The other three just looked at her when she voiced her opinions. Unnerved, she asked, "What? I think he can handle the truth better than he would have a year, no, six months ago! He's changed! At least we're all agreed on that!"

Harry, exasperated, looked at Ron, and watched him shrug his shoulders. Looking at her for a moment, Harry replied quietly, "'Mione, what good would it do?" She started to open her mouth, but closed it when he held a hand up. "No, let me finish. What I mean is, the Prophecy was quite explicit. True, it didn't name either one of us specifically, but since I was the one obviously chosen by Voldemort, it came to be about me. Why throw up to Neville that it could just as easily have been him? What purpose would that serve? Except to worry him. And if you remember, it said the chosen one would be marked by Voldemort, therefore making that person the only one who would have the powers to take him out once and for all. Oh, I'm sure it will be out that I will truly have to play the "Hero"; but for now, I'd rather the fewer people that know about it the better."

The other three were quite as they took in his words. Although his words made sense, Hermione still wore a troubled frown.

Ginny, seeing this sighed, "Look, Herm, Harry's right. Why would you want to worry Neville right now? True, he's more self-assured these days, but he's also happier than any of us have ever seen him!"

Hermione, a little put out, shook her head. "I know all that! And what you both say is true. And I'm not wanting to upset his happiness, just make him more aware! I know no one is ever truly prepared for the loss of a loved one, and Neville's had his fair share of losing loved ones to this 'evil', but what if something were to happen to Luna? What if he was truly not aware? He could be totally devastated!"

Seeing the sadness on her face, and loving her for her compassionate heart, Ron reached over and covered her hand with his own freckled one. She looked over at him and smiled softly. Her love for this oft-times rash-tempered boy was boundless, and she knew she would never cope the same if she ever lost him to the violence in their world.

" 'Mione, no one's disputing what you say in that respect, but for now, let's just allow Neville and Luna this chance to be together without worry, without fear.......they'll be facing it soon enough."

Hermione stood, still smiling, and pulled Ron to his feet. By unspoken agreement they left the Common Room holding hands, still staring into one another's eyes.

Harry sighed, very weary for the moment. He was not sleeping well, due to dreams, or nightmares would be a better word, that had been very disturbing the last month or so. They had become almost like a World War II holocaust in their realness; and he knew that unfortunately, what he had been seeing had truly been happening. The visions, of pain, of torture, of a chillingly cold laugh that ripped through one's concious to the subconcious, were terrifyingly real.

Lowering his head into his hands, Harry sighed again. He rubbed his scar with a slight vengenance.

But all the pain and aggravation were forgotten a moment later when he felt soft, gentle hands touching his own. Soft, gentle lips kissed the back of his neck as he breathed in the clean scent of soap, and a light apples and cinnamon fragrance he knew to be Ginny's favorite perfume.

He lifted his head and smiled into beautiful chocolate eyes full of love and understanding. He was still amazed that God had been so kind to him; to find love when he thought that there was none, comfort in the form of warm arms, understanding from someone who KNEW what it was to be haunted by pure evil, and an ultimate feeling of having finally come home.

Harry reached up and placed his hands on either side of Ginny's face. He placed soft, gentle kisses on her sweet, red lips. Then closing his eyes, feeling as if everything were right again, he laid his forehead against hers.

She whispered softly, "Tell me. What happened in last night's vision. I'll massage your head."

They got up from the table and went to the couch. Ginny sat down, and Harry followed, lying his head in her lap. As he told her of his most recent vision, she gently caressed his scalp. He moaned as the ache slowly began to leave his head, and the tension eased from his shoulders.

He told her, as he told Dumbledore often, that Voldemort was getting even stronger. He was now allowing the dementors free reign, as well as the fact that the giants would soon be in Great Britain. And that the increasing of his visions told him that the signs were all pointing to plans for the Death Eaters to set up camp soon outside Hogsmeade. Voldemort was too crafty, or cowardly in Harry's opinion, to join them when they would finally show up. He didn't dare come that close to Dumbledore, or for that matter, Harry himself.

Afterwards, as they grew quite, they both contemplated what it would come to mean when the enemy set up camp in their own backyard.

While these worries plagued The Boy Who Lived and his ladylove, there were others who were too innocently caught up in themselves to notice what was going on about them.

In a nearby field of late Michaelmas daisies, all seemed quite and serene to the casual observer; but the closer one crept towards it's center this notion was proved false. A sudden shout of delighted masculine laughter could be heard, followed by the tinkling of a feminine giggle.

"Neville! Be serious!"

Grinning, Neville leered down at the laughing girl. Assuming an innocent expression he replied, "But sweetheart! I was truly listening with all seriousness to your lecture on the.....what did you call them - Horned Whosits?"

She laughed as she shook her head. "That proves you were not paying attention! You can't even remember their proper name!"

Shaking with ill-contained mirth, Neville replied, "Ah, lovey, how can I help it? Your beauty far outshines the sun, moon, and stars! Your cheeks are like roses in bloom, your hair the color of sweet golden wine, your eyes twin silvery pools in which I drown everytime I gaze into them, your skin flower-petal soft, and lips like delectable cherries ripe for plucking!"

He was quite sincere in his compliments, and she saw this. Tears forming in her eyes, Luna reached up and gently laid the palm of her hand on his cheek. Closing his eyes, Neville turned his head and kissed her hand.

"I love you, Luna!"

"Oh, Neville! I do love you so!"

He leaned down and softly kissed her lips. Then looking at her seriously for a moment, sat up. Wondering what was going through his mind, she asked him. By now, she too, was sitting back up.

He looked away, then back, while trying to swallow a lump that had formed in his throat. When he spoke, it was almost too low for her to hear.

"When my parents were married, there was a bit of a difficulty; my mother's parents."

He became quite for a moment, and she moved closer, interested in what he had to say. Whatever it was, she knew it was very important to him, for he rarely spoke of his parents. Neville spoke again, breaking into her reverie.

"I don't know any of this from them, you understand, but my Gran told me about it. My parents didn't care; they loved each other too much. While my father was indeed pureblooded, my maternal grandparents did not like that he didn't espouse the Dark Lord's cause; quite the opposite. He was so full of life, believed everyone should be treated equally; be they Muggles, Muggleborns, purebloods. They didn't like that."

He suddenly emitted a bark of bitter laughter. "To their everlasting shame, their only child felt the same way. And flying in the face of their conventions, she married my father anyway. Matter of fact, they became Aurors who chased after those who served the Dark Lord."

"Well, while she tried to pretend it didn't matter, my Gran says that my mother was devastated by her parents' defectation. She said that my father then told my mother something that forever cemented her belief that what she was doing was right."

Looking back at Luna, he gently took her face in his hands. The tears brimming in his eyes, as well as the shining light of his love for her, made her swallow the lump in her own throat.

"I would say these same words to you, Luna; and would have you know I mean them with every fiber of my being."

"Baby, I'll take care of you, I'll never let you down. No harm will ever come to you as long as I'm around. I am not afraid of what people say or do. The only thing I fear is being here without you."

With a choked sob, Luna laid her face, now flowing with happy tears, on his shoulder. " Oh, Neville, I love you so much! The words are so true! And no matter what happens, no matter what evils come into our world, I, too, will always feel that way."

As they sat and held each other they thought quietly of the future.

For while Harry thought he was sparing Neville, he didn't realize Neville already knew enough to be able to cope with the truth. He, as well as anyone else, saw the signs of things to come.