Neville never wanted to die.
He never thought that he would, he knew the reality all too well and that many before him had died in the fight against the Dark Lord but he never really believed that he would die. His year long fight against Snape's Regime, his constant rebellion against the Carrows, encouraging his fellow students to rise up and stand up for what they believed in, he was simply doing the right thing. The consequences didn't matter because he believed in his heart that the Dark Lord would be defeated and that Harry Potter would be victorious. He had to believe that good would conquer evil, it was just what he did. There was no sense in believing otherwise, it never even occurred to him. That was until he faced his death.
Neville couldn't believe that Harry was dead. They had come too far, lost too many for it to simply be over. Even when he saw his limp body, cradled in Hagrid's giant shaking arms he couldn't let himself believe it. It had to be a trick, some sort of ruse by the Death Eaters. He didn't think, he simply acted. Even when he had been disarmed every response he had made to the Dark Lord had been a reflex borne of nine months of fighting. Crying out for Dumbledore's Army and hearing the riotous response from his fellow students ring out from behind him had emboldened him. When his body stiffened with a Body Bind Curse he foolishly remembered Hermione casting Petrificus Totalus on him in their first year when he had been determined to stop his friends from getting into trouble. He suddenly wondered if that would be his final thought, if he were to be tortured like they had tortured his parents.
Then the Sorting Hat was shoved over his head and he could no longer see. The air felt electric with anticipation of what was to happen to him. He prepared himself for the worst and for the first time since the war had started he believed he was going to die. Then the hat was set ablaze.
Neville weaved through the crowds, sheepishly smiling and nodding as those around him congratulated him. He had eaten a full meal surrounded by admirers and was simply looking to get some fresh air. After what felt like forever he escaped the Great Hall and stepped out into the Entrance Hall, the early morning sun burning in through the open castle doors. He walked down the rubble strewn steps into the battle raged courtyard. It was a shocking reminder of just how bad the Battle had been mere hours before. The emptiness of the courtyard allowed the gravity of the situation to hit him. There had been a battle, it had been horrid and many had lost their lives but it was finally over.
Neville took a few steps more and collapsed onto the legs of what used to be one of the Stone Statues Professor McGonagall had brought to life. Gryffindor's sword clattered to the rubble beneath him, he had barely even noticed that he had taken it up off the table when he left. His shoulders drooped, his body felt like it was a thousand pound weight at the bottom of the ocean. He took one deep shuttering breath and when he released it the tears came. Large, heavy and soul raking sobs burst out of him.
He was thankful for the solitude as the adrenaline that had fueled him for most of the night was pouring out of him along with grief and exhaustion. He had never cried so hard in his life. There had been no rest, no time to grieve in the midst of the battle and his body seemed eager to make up for lost time. He didn't even notice that he was no longer alone until someone placed a hand on his back. For a few minutes longer he continued to sob, unable to stop himself, not knowing or caring who was caring for him, rubbing his back as he unloaded.
Finally he managed to catch his breath and raised his head, cursing he headache that came with the sudden rush of blood. Once his eyes focused past the tears Neville recognized the dirty, exhausted and equally tear streaked face of Hannah Abbot, a Hufflepuff in the same year as him. He had gotten to know her a lot better in the past year. She had joined Dumbledore's Army while Neville was leading his rebellion against Snape.
"I-" Neville started to croak out but Hannah shushed him.
"Don't. It's okay." She wiped a tear from his cheek and Neville swallowed a lump in his throat that may not have had anything to do with the heaving sobs his body had just endured, "I think what you did was really brave." She wiped another tear from his other cheek, "I think you're the Bravest man I've ever met, Neville Longbottom." Before he knew what was happening Hannah had leaned forward and kissed him. Despite how heavy he felt and how exhausted he was and how much he really just needed to sleep he placed his hand on her own cheek and returned the kiss.