The Light in the Dark | Neville Longbottom

Chapter 111: The First Sunrise

*CW: Character Death & Violence*

Our spells collided.

Then his fell.

My spell hit him square in the chest.

Then there was a moment of silence where it felt like time itself had stopped and I was the only living, breathing thing on this planet while my father's body collapsed to the ground, and the elder wand flew into my hands.

I didn't know what to feel.

Happy?

Sad?

Relieved?

I mean...

I killed my father.

And my boyfriend killed my mother.

Both of my biological parents were dead.

I should've felt sad, but I never loved them... not truly. But I also wasn't happy that they were gone because at the end of the day, they were still my parents.

I think the correct feeling was... nothing.

I felt nothing.

I stared at my father's dead body for a while; I didn't know, nor care how long I did it for. I just sought a feeling... an emotion, of some sort... but never found one. Maybe I was secretly a sociopath, someone who was incapable of emoting. It was a reasonable option, considering I've become immune to most things. I mean... how couldn't I have?

If the family dilemma wasn't enough trauma for a lifetime, my "best friend" of several years trying to murder me about three hours ago definitely was.

And furthermore, how did a simple disarming charm cause Voldemort's entire body to go cold? What had happened? I stared at the elder wand in my hands. Usually, when I held another's wand it didn't feel right, but this one did. I remembered overhearing a particular conversation about the wand between Harry and Mr. Ollivander while I was staying at Shell Cottage. He simply stated that the elder wand changed its allegiance whenever the previous owner was disarmed. Dumbledore (the original owner) was disarmed by Draco in the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. Draco was disarmed by Harry at the manor — he brought his wand to Shell Cottage. I disarmed Harry not too long ago.

I was now the owner of the elder wand.

Voldemort was never the owner of the elder wand. And by the time we battled, I was its rightful owner, meaning that when he went to strike me... The curse backfired on him, hitting and killing him.

I sighed deeply, finally facing away from my father, as I looked around at my surroundings, taking everything in. The entire courtyard was covered in rubble, small fires, and dead bodies. If I was able of emoting, I'd feel solemn for the lives that were lost. But I didn't... because I was pretty sure most of the deatheater-related deaths were caused by me anyway.

They deserved their fates.

Remus, Tonks, and Fred were dead because of them.

Without another thought, I walked to the bridge over-facing the river that led to the Atlantic. The bridge itself was nearly destroyed in the war; hundreds of dead creatures littered upon its foundations. I stood on the edge of that bridge, looking down at the water below. Another step and I could've put my entire life behind me, becoming one with the empty vessels that surrounded me. I didn't have much else to live for now that I've fulfilled my life's mission. I considered leaping for a moment or two, but now with Voldemort gone and Harry apprehended (for the most part), I had a new life ahead of me. One free of wizardry, prophecies, Hogwarts, and England as a whole. A life that was mine.