FIC: First Steps (Frank Longbottom/Alice Longbottom)
Title: First Steps
Author: mihnn
Characters: Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Neville Longbottom
Prompt number: 42
Word Count: 3120
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Violence
Summary: The first steps towards healing is always the hardest. It’s easier when there’s family.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author’s Notes: This became more gen when I wrote it. Sorry, prompter. Also, thank you, Jess, for being an amazingly quick beta like always.
First Steps
The thrumming inside her head stops almost as suddenly as it once had started, the sound of silence stretching and growing until words pour through her with a quick mutter.
“You would think that after everything I’ve done for her that she would give me one thing. That’s all I asked for: one thing. How can my sister be so selfish? Not coming to my wedding, she says. Ha! How would she have liked it if I didn’t go to hers? I’ll tell you what she would say then. She would call me selfish. She would make a big fuss about it until I would give in and gave her whatever she wanted.”
The words get louder still, and she blinks up at the white ceiling, her mind taking in the words as gently as she could. But, they are said too loudly and too fast, so she closes her eyes and listens carefully instead.
“I know why she’s doing this. She’s still angry. She’s always been this petty. I forgot her birthday once. That’s no reason to hold a grudge, is it?”
“No.” The word comes out breathy, said through a throat that is too dry and a voice that is too hoarse. A loud clatter makes her open her eyes and look towards the voice. A Healer stands before her, hands on her heart and her eyes wide.
“Oh my…”
Her lips part to say something-anything-to appease the young woman’s mind, but she turns and runs before a word could be said.
It is at that moment when Alice Longbottom falls into a deep and content sleep.
* * *
She is awakened by gentle prodding and even gentler voices.
There are Healers standing above her, holding a potion to her lips and running wands up and down her tired body. They ask her questions and she shakes her head and nod so to give her answers. Her throat still hurts from ill usage and her head aches from the incessant questions.
Is your name Alice Longbottom?
She nods.
Is your maiden name Alice Rogerston?
She nods.
Is your husband Frank Longbottom?
She nods, and so it continues.
Are your parents Wendell and Alex Rogerston?
Are you an only child?
Did you attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?
Were you an employee of the Ministry of Magic?
Were you a member of the Order of the Phoenix?
Is Neville Longbottom your son?
Her eyes widen and her head snaps up to look at the Healer incredulously. Cautiously she shakes her head. She doesn’t miss the look of concern that colours his eyes when she says, ‘no’.
The Healer hesitates before he leans forward.
“Do you have a son?”
She shakes her head.
“A daughter?”
She shakes her head.
“Have you ever had a child?”
She shakes her head confidently.
A look passes between the Healers and she wonders if she had answered wrong.
“Mrs Longbottom needs rest,” the Healer says. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.”
She watches them pack everything up, the tools, the potions and then she watches them pocket their wands.
She tries several times, her throat convulsing painfully until one word falls breathlessly from her lips.
“Frank.”
The Healer who had been asking her questions smiles gently. “He is doing well, Mrs Longbottom. You can see him tomorrow.”
She nods and the Healer hesitates. “It is so nice to meet you.”
Alice hopes that her lips form into a small smile, because her body aches and she feels like there is nothing she can control.
* * *
She blinks awake to a gentle voice, deep and resonating with words she had heard from so long ago. She first thinks that it must be Frank, until her eyes open and she sees a young man sitting on a plain wooden chair near her bed, reading a book out loud. She recognises the book, but not him.
He’s startled when he glances up at her. He drops the book onto her bed clumsily and mutters an apology.
“Sorry. I was just-“
She smiles at him, hoping to convey to him that it doesn’t matter. She was told that she was in St. Mungo’s a day ago, which could only mean that the young man was a volunteer. She smiles wider when he stutters and tries to stop staring at her.
She reaches forward, cringing at the pain in her side until she picks up the book and hands it towards him.
He hesitates, and then takes the book from her tentatively.
“I heard-“ His voice breaks and he stops, clearing his throat roughly before continuing. “I heard that this is your favourite book.”
She nods.
“I’d-I’d like to read it for you, if that’s all right.”
She smiles and leans back to make herself comfortable, nodding once to indicate that he can continue.
“Right. Yes. All right.”
He begins from where he had stopped, his voice careful and strong. The book was one her mother once read to her, and her mother did before her. It’s a simple tale of a wizard who loses his love but finds her in the end after many trials. Just as he is about to lose hope, it is the witch who gives him the strength to continue.
She tiredly listens to the young man as he continues to remind her of the story, and just as he reaches her most favourite part, she tiredly falls asleep.
* * *
There is only one word she can say, and whenever she says it, she gets cautious replies.
He is doing well, Mrs Longbottom.
You can see him soon.
We’re just waiting until he gets his strength back.
She decides to ask the nice man who reads to her everyday, instead.
“Frank?”
He’s startled by the first word she ever tells him. “Frank?” he asks.
She nods.
“He is…”
She does something that she had never done before. She looks at him sternly, threatening him with punishment that she can never bestow while gently pleading with him at the same time.
He sighs, and she considers it a small victory that is graced with a smile.
“He hasn’t been doing as well as you.”
She feels the sting behind her eyes as her smile falters.
“He… When he… What Bellatrix did…”
He looks away from her, his hand coming to rest beside her own as if he wanted to take her hand but decided against it. “He protected you.” His voice cracks. “Do you remember that?”
She nods, the tears falling unbidden down her cheeks.
“It will take time,” he says quickly. “But there’s hope. There’s always hope.”
She takes his hand and squeezes it gently. She wonders why this young man is so kind towards her when he squeezes her hand back.
* * *
The young man and her Healer are friends. She sees that much.
They ask each other questions and throw friendly greetings towards each other. It takes her almost two weeks to realise that she doesn’t know either of their names.
“How are you feeling, Mrs Longbottom?” the Healer asks cheerfully as he looks at her chart. “I hope your friend here hasn’t been taxing you too much.”
The young man rolls his eyes, the action making him look younger than his years, even though his eyes, yes, his eyes seem older than it should be.
“Name?” she hoarsely asks. She can say more words now, although her throat still hurts if she tries to attempt more than one word at a time.
“Who? Mine?” the Healer asks. He’s distracted as he checks her pulse and runs his wand across her form as he always does. He does see her nod of affirmation, and he exchanges a quick glance with the young man.
“Dean Thomas.”
She smiles. She likes that name. It seems fitting.
Her glance then falls on the young man. The look the two of them exchange piques her interest.
“Name?” she asks again.
“I’m…” He hesitates and looks at Dean.
“Seamus Finnigan,” the Healer says quickly.
She wonders if she imagines the way the young man’s shoulders slump with relief. She then thinks that she might not have imagined it at all, when she considers the name.
“Irish?” she asks. The young man doesn’t sound Irish in the least.
“Well, yes. Sort of. Not on my mother’s side.” He winces as he says the words.
She feels her patience wane when the two friends exchange another glance. “Frank?” she asks the Healer, hoping to see her husband.
The corners of Dean’s eyes crinkle kindly. “Mrs Longbottom, the state of your husband…”
“Maybe it’s time,” the young man, Seamus, says quietly.
Another look passes between them before Dean asks softly, “Are you sure?”
Alice smiles as her heart expands with hope, even as a twinge of suspicion settles deep in her chest at the way her Healer listens to the volunteer’s request rather than hers.
Seamus nods. “We can wheel her in on the bed, can’t we?”
“I could arrange for them to share a room,” Dean says.
They discuss logistics, beds and remedies while she watches them carefully. She wonders if Seamus is more than a volunteer. She wonders if he is a Healer who refuses to wear his uniform. Then she wonders why he has shown such a particular interest in her.
As Dean leaves, she turns towards Seamus. “Thank… you,” she says carefully.
It is the first time she says two words, and she says it to him.
* * *
When she sees Frank, her heart breaks.
They keep her on her bed and wheel her towards the adjoining ward. The travel is a bit bumpy, but there are moments when she comfortably travels smoothly. She doesn’t let go of Seamus’ hand through the whole trip as he accompanies her.
They place her bed alongside his, and with a small request from Seamus, they take down the barriers between both their beds so that she can reach out with her free hand and take his hand in hers. When she feels Seamus try to slip his hand out of hers, she tightens her grip.
“What’s… wrong?” she asks carefully, her eyes falling on her husband’s sleeping face.
He looks so much older than how she remembers him. He has lines across his forehead and his cheeks are a bit hollowed out. What hurts her most is that he doesn’t wake up.
“The-the damage Bellatrix did to him was worse than what she did to you. But, you’re better,” Seamus says fiercely. “And if you got better, so will he.”
Her brows furrow with confusion before she looks up at him. “Why?”
“Why?”
“Why… now?”
Seamus let’s out a breath, his eyes falling on the way her thumb strokes her sleeping husband’s hand. His next words are hesitant.
“A few years ago, there was a war. Against Voldemort.”
Her fingers tighten around his as her eyes widen in panic, but he holds on firmly, his voice becoming strong and confident.
“We won that war. And Bellatrix was killed.”
Her eyes widen further.
“We are not sure, but we think, that whatever curses she placed on you and D-“ He clears his throat. “Frank. On you and Frank, must have broken. We think that, even though it took some time, the dark magic she used on you is finally losing power.”
She eyes him pleadingly, gesturing towards her husband with a small twitch of her head. “Stay?”
Seamus nods. “I’ve made the arrangements,” he says. “You can stay with your husband.”
Alice smiles, never feeling as grateful as she does at this very minute.
* * *
Frank does not open his eyes. Frank never opens his eyes.
She wishes she could talk to him, say special words that might go through and cause him to remember and wake up. But her voice is still hoarse and she yearns for the days when she can say a full sentence without wincing from pain.
Seamus helps. He has become her friend very quickly and he even helps her with gently coaxing her to talk. He tells her that Bellatrix nearly destroyed her vocal chords with a hex, but there are potions to fix it-to fix her-and she is going to be as good as new.
He is a kind soul with gentle eyes. He never speaks about himself, or the war. All the information she gets, she hears from the Healers who check up on her daily.
She learns that he is admired. She learns that he is the young man who had killed the vicious snake Voldemort once called his pet.
She learns that his name is Neville Longbottom.
* * *
When Frank finally awakes, she is asleep.
He prods her gently from her slumber, greeting her with a wide smile as he reaches out to embrace her. They have tubes and such running from one vein or another. It is a process to remove it all, but once it is done, they embrace amongst tears, even as Healers come rushing in with panic-stricken expressions across their faces.
“Oh Alice, my dear sweet Alice,” her husband says even as the Healers sternly put them back where they should be and reattach the tubes. She notices that his speech is slower and slurred, but it does not matter. She smiles brilliantly as she says one word, ‘Frank’, and threads her fingers amongst his.
There are so many words to say and not many can begin to explain how she feels. So she simply looks at him as he looks at her, a mirroring smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as they ignore the lecture given to them by the female Healer while she harshly chastises their behaviour.
* * *
Her husband recognises him instantly.
“Neville,” he breathes out, a small laugh of joy escaping him as he sits up on the bed and his fingers slip from hers. He holds open his arms and gestures for the young man to step forward, for the boy to cross the room and embrace him.
The young man, who she has called Seamus, glances at her, a brief look of surprise and panic flits across his eyes before he does as his father bids.
“Oh, my boy, look at you!” Frank says with great elation. He holds the young man as tightly as the young man holds him. She looks away when she sees his eyes fill with tears. “Alice! Look at him. Look at how big he is!”
Neville chokes back a laugh and her heart breaks further.
Her husband pulls away to glance at her happily. “Look, Alice! Our son!” He holds onto her boy, his hands keeping Neville close to him. “Our son,” he says again, his happy tone coloured with content.
When Frank finally looks at her-carefully looks at her-his wide smile falters with confusion.
“Alice?”
Tears prickle at the back of her eyes as her glance falls on the young man. He looks at her, and then at Frank, “Dad,” he says, his tone concerned and full of understanding… and that is enough.
She breaks. With a hiccup she sobs violently into her hands, her shoulders shaking and her heart clenching painfully inside her chest.
“Alice?” her husband asks, panicked.
“I don’t…” She hiccups again, unable to say the words. Warm arms embrace and she knows it isn’t her husband. She pulls her son closer, causing him to sit on the bed beside her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she gasps against his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” he says soothingly, even though she hears the pain in those three words. “At least you’re back. At least you’re fine.” And this, she knows he says truthfully.
Her husband stays silent as she keeps apologising and her son keeps ignoring her words while he gently rubs her back.
It takes them quite a while to haltingly tell Frank.
It takes only a little bit longer before she starts to learn everything about her one and only son, Neville Longbottom.
* * *
They were trapped. She knew that much. Her husband was in another room probably being tortured and she would be next.
Even though they took her wand, they didn’t consider her much of a threat. They had made that fact blatantly obvious as they bound only her ankles and her wrists, allowing her to sit on the stone floor of an empty room with only one guest for company.
“Do you know what she’ll do to you if you don’t tell her what she wants to hear?” the masked Death Eater guarding her asked snidely. “She’ll torture you. She’ll torture you until you scream for death.”
Alice stayed silent. Such threats were not new to her. If the Order wouldn’t make it in time, she had a suspicion that tonight would be the last night she and her husband would spend amongst the living. They had known the risks when they had joined the Order all those months ago. She only wished that she had spent more time with Neville. There were so many things that she wanted to teach him.
“…and once she’s done with your mangled body, she’ll go after your family.”
Her head snapped up in surprise.
She could see a sinister smile spread across his lips at her reaction. “Worried, are we?”
“She will never find them,” Alice said strongly.
The Death Eater smirked. “She will run through your brain like it is hers. She’ll know what you know before long.”
Alice looked away, her heart beating maddeningly with panic. Frank didn’t know where she had sent Neville to keep their son safe. But, she knew. She knew everything.
The sound of heavy steps reached her ears, the noise bringing a large smirk onto the Death Eater’s face. “Looks like you’re next.”
She didn’t have much time. The moment the Death Eater turned away, she pushed herself upwards, lunging towards him gracelessly and forcing him to fall onto the ground. He grunted as she landed on top of him, her body struggling against him as he somehow managed to push her off.
With a curse, he stood up, kicking her in the stomach for good measure. As the footsteps got louder and her guard turned away from her to open the locked door, Alice pulled out the wand she had stolen from his robes and aimed it at her head.
The last spell Alice Longbottom cast before she was pulled out of the room roughly by her hair was a memory charm, one that required her whispering, “Obliviate”, under her breath.
Author: mihnn
Characters: Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Neville Longbottom
Prompt number: 42
Word Count: 3120
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Violence
Summary: The first steps towards healing is always the hardest. It’s easier when there’s family.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author’s Notes: This became more gen when I wrote it. Sorry, prompter. Also, thank you, Jess, for being an amazingly quick beta like always.
First Steps
The thrumming inside her head stops almost as suddenly as it once had started, the sound of silence stretching and growing until words pour through her with a quick mutter.
“You would think that after everything I’ve done for her that she would give me one thing. That’s all I asked for: one thing. How can my sister be so selfish? Not coming to my wedding, she says. Ha! How would she have liked it if I didn’t go to hers? I’ll tell you what she would say then. She would call me selfish. She would make a big fuss about it until I would give in and gave her whatever she wanted.”
The words get louder still, and she blinks up at the white ceiling, her mind taking in the words as gently as she could. But, they are said too loudly and too fast, so she closes her eyes and listens carefully instead.
“I know why she’s doing this. She’s still angry. She’s always been this petty. I forgot her birthday once. That’s no reason to hold a grudge, is it?”
“No.” The word comes out breathy, said through a throat that is too dry and a voice that is too hoarse. A loud clatter makes her open her eyes and look towards the voice. A Healer stands before her, hands on her heart and her eyes wide.
“Oh my…”
Her lips part to say something-anything-to appease the young woman’s mind, but she turns and runs before a word could be said.
It is at that moment when Alice Longbottom falls into a deep and content sleep.
* * *
She is awakened by gentle prodding and even gentler voices.
There are Healers standing above her, holding a potion to her lips and running wands up and down her tired body. They ask her questions and she shakes her head and nod so to give her answers. Her throat still hurts from ill usage and her head aches from the incessant questions.
Is your name Alice Longbottom?
She nods.
Is your maiden name Alice Rogerston?
She nods.
Is your husband Frank Longbottom?
She nods, and so it continues.
Are your parents Wendell and Alex Rogerston?
Are you an only child?
Did you attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?
Were you an employee of the Ministry of Magic?
Were you a member of the Order of the Phoenix?
Is Neville Longbottom your son?
Her eyes widen and her head snaps up to look at the Healer incredulously. Cautiously she shakes her head. She doesn’t miss the look of concern that colours his eyes when she says, ‘no’.
The Healer hesitates before he leans forward.
“Do you have a son?”
She shakes her head.
“A daughter?”
She shakes her head.
“Have you ever had a child?”
She shakes her head confidently.
A look passes between the Healers and she wonders if she had answered wrong.
“Mrs Longbottom needs rest,” the Healer says. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.”
She watches them pack everything up, the tools, the potions and then she watches them pocket their wands.
She tries several times, her throat convulsing painfully until one word falls breathlessly from her lips.
“Frank.”
The Healer who had been asking her questions smiles gently. “He is doing well, Mrs Longbottom. You can see him tomorrow.”
She nods and the Healer hesitates. “It is so nice to meet you.”
Alice hopes that her lips form into a small smile, because her body aches and she feels like there is nothing she can control.
* * *
She blinks awake to a gentle voice, deep and resonating with words she had heard from so long ago. She first thinks that it must be Frank, until her eyes open and she sees a young man sitting on a plain wooden chair near her bed, reading a book out loud. She recognises the book, but not him.
He’s startled when he glances up at her. He drops the book onto her bed clumsily and mutters an apology.
“Sorry. I was just-“
She smiles at him, hoping to convey to him that it doesn’t matter. She was told that she was in St. Mungo’s a day ago, which could only mean that the young man was a volunteer. She smiles wider when he stutters and tries to stop staring at her.
She reaches forward, cringing at the pain in her side until she picks up the book and hands it towards him.
He hesitates, and then takes the book from her tentatively.
“I heard-“ His voice breaks and he stops, clearing his throat roughly before continuing. “I heard that this is your favourite book.”
She nods.
“I’d-I’d like to read it for you, if that’s all right.”
She smiles and leans back to make herself comfortable, nodding once to indicate that he can continue.
“Right. Yes. All right.”
He begins from where he had stopped, his voice careful and strong. The book was one her mother once read to her, and her mother did before her. It’s a simple tale of a wizard who loses his love but finds her in the end after many trials. Just as he is about to lose hope, it is the witch who gives him the strength to continue.
She tiredly listens to the young man as he continues to remind her of the story, and just as he reaches her most favourite part, she tiredly falls asleep.
* * *
There is only one word she can say, and whenever she says it, she gets cautious replies.
He is doing well, Mrs Longbottom.
You can see him soon.
We’re just waiting until he gets his strength back.
She decides to ask the nice man who reads to her everyday, instead.
“Frank?”
He’s startled by the first word she ever tells him. “Frank?” he asks.
She nods.
“He is…”
She does something that she had never done before. She looks at him sternly, threatening him with punishment that she can never bestow while gently pleading with him at the same time.
He sighs, and she considers it a small victory that is graced with a smile.
“He hasn’t been doing as well as you.”
She feels the sting behind her eyes as her smile falters.
“He… When he… What Bellatrix did…”
He looks away from her, his hand coming to rest beside her own as if he wanted to take her hand but decided against it. “He protected you.” His voice cracks. “Do you remember that?”
She nods, the tears falling unbidden down her cheeks.
“It will take time,” he says quickly. “But there’s hope. There’s always hope.”
She takes his hand and squeezes it gently. She wonders why this young man is so kind towards her when he squeezes her hand back.
* * *
The young man and her Healer are friends. She sees that much.
They ask each other questions and throw friendly greetings towards each other. It takes her almost two weeks to realise that she doesn’t know either of their names.
“How are you feeling, Mrs Longbottom?” the Healer asks cheerfully as he looks at her chart. “I hope your friend here hasn’t been taxing you too much.”
The young man rolls his eyes, the action making him look younger than his years, even though his eyes, yes, his eyes seem older than it should be.
“Name?” she hoarsely asks. She can say more words now, although her throat still hurts if she tries to attempt more than one word at a time.
“Who? Mine?” the Healer asks. He’s distracted as he checks her pulse and runs his wand across her form as he always does. He does see her nod of affirmation, and he exchanges a quick glance with the young man.
“Dean Thomas.”
She smiles. She likes that name. It seems fitting.
Her glance then falls on the young man. The look the two of them exchange piques her interest.
“Name?” she asks again.
“I’m…” He hesitates and looks at Dean.
“Seamus Finnigan,” the Healer says quickly.
She wonders if she imagines the way the young man’s shoulders slump with relief. She then thinks that she might not have imagined it at all, when she considers the name.
“Irish?” she asks. The young man doesn’t sound Irish in the least.
“Well, yes. Sort of. Not on my mother’s side.” He winces as he says the words.
She feels her patience wane when the two friends exchange another glance. “Frank?” she asks the Healer, hoping to see her husband.
The corners of Dean’s eyes crinkle kindly. “Mrs Longbottom, the state of your husband…”
“Maybe it’s time,” the young man, Seamus, says quietly.
Another look passes between them before Dean asks softly, “Are you sure?”
Alice smiles as her heart expands with hope, even as a twinge of suspicion settles deep in her chest at the way her Healer listens to the volunteer’s request rather than hers.
Seamus nods. “We can wheel her in on the bed, can’t we?”
“I could arrange for them to share a room,” Dean says.
They discuss logistics, beds and remedies while she watches them carefully. She wonders if Seamus is more than a volunteer. She wonders if he is a Healer who refuses to wear his uniform. Then she wonders why he has shown such a particular interest in her.
As Dean leaves, she turns towards Seamus. “Thank… you,” she says carefully.
It is the first time she says two words, and she says it to him.
* * *
When she sees Frank, her heart breaks.
They keep her on her bed and wheel her towards the adjoining ward. The travel is a bit bumpy, but there are moments when she comfortably travels smoothly. She doesn’t let go of Seamus’ hand through the whole trip as he accompanies her.
They place her bed alongside his, and with a small request from Seamus, they take down the barriers between both their beds so that she can reach out with her free hand and take his hand in hers. When she feels Seamus try to slip his hand out of hers, she tightens her grip.
“What’s… wrong?” she asks carefully, her eyes falling on her husband’s sleeping face.
He looks so much older than how she remembers him. He has lines across his forehead and his cheeks are a bit hollowed out. What hurts her most is that he doesn’t wake up.
“The-the damage Bellatrix did to him was worse than what she did to you. But, you’re better,” Seamus says fiercely. “And if you got better, so will he.”
Her brows furrow with confusion before she looks up at him. “Why?”
“Why?”
“Why… now?”
Seamus let’s out a breath, his eyes falling on the way her thumb strokes her sleeping husband’s hand. His next words are hesitant.
“A few years ago, there was a war. Against Voldemort.”
Her fingers tighten around his as her eyes widen in panic, but he holds on firmly, his voice becoming strong and confident.
“We won that war. And Bellatrix was killed.”
Her eyes widen further.
“We are not sure, but we think, that whatever curses she placed on you and D-“ He clears his throat. “Frank. On you and Frank, must have broken. We think that, even though it took some time, the dark magic she used on you is finally losing power.”
She eyes him pleadingly, gesturing towards her husband with a small twitch of her head. “Stay?”
Seamus nods. “I’ve made the arrangements,” he says. “You can stay with your husband.”
Alice smiles, never feeling as grateful as she does at this very minute.
* * *
Frank does not open his eyes. Frank never opens his eyes.
She wishes she could talk to him, say special words that might go through and cause him to remember and wake up. But her voice is still hoarse and she yearns for the days when she can say a full sentence without wincing from pain.
Seamus helps. He has become her friend very quickly and he even helps her with gently coaxing her to talk. He tells her that Bellatrix nearly destroyed her vocal chords with a hex, but there are potions to fix it-to fix her-and she is going to be as good as new.
He is a kind soul with gentle eyes. He never speaks about himself, or the war. All the information she gets, she hears from the Healers who check up on her daily.
She learns that he is admired. She learns that he is the young man who had killed the vicious snake Voldemort once called his pet.
She learns that his name is Neville Longbottom.
* * *
When Frank finally awakes, she is asleep.
He prods her gently from her slumber, greeting her with a wide smile as he reaches out to embrace her. They have tubes and such running from one vein or another. It is a process to remove it all, but once it is done, they embrace amongst tears, even as Healers come rushing in with panic-stricken expressions across their faces.
“Oh Alice, my dear sweet Alice,” her husband says even as the Healers sternly put them back where they should be and reattach the tubes. She notices that his speech is slower and slurred, but it does not matter. She smiles brilliantly as she says one word, ‘Frank’, and threads her fingers amongst his.
There are so many words to say and not many can begin to explain how she feels. So she simply looks at him as he looks at her, a mirroring smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as they ignore the lecture given to them by the female Healer while she harshly chastises their behaviour.
* * *
Her husband recognises him instantly.
“Neville,” he breathes out, a small laugh of joy escaping him as he sits up on the bed and his fingers slip from hers. He holds open his arms and gestures for the young man to step forward, for the boy to cross the room and embrace him.
The young man, who she has called Seamus, glances at her, a brief look of surprise and panic flits across his eyes before he does as his father bids.
“Oh, my boy, look at you!” Frank says with great elation. He holds the young man as tightly as the young man holds him. She looks away when she sees his eyes fill with tears. “Alice! Look at him. Look at how big he is!”
Neville chokes back a laugh and her heart breaks further.
Her husband pulls away to glance at her happily. “Look, Alice! Our son!” He holds onto her boy, his hands keeping Neville close to him. “Our son,” he says again, his happy tone coloured with content.
When Frank finally looks at her-carefully looks at her-his wide smile falters with confusion.
“Alice?”
Tears prickle at the back of her eyes as her glance falls on the young man. He looks at her, and then at Frank, “Dad,” he says, his tone concerned and full of understanding… and that is enough.
She breaks. With a hiccup she sobs violently into her hands, her shoulders shaking and her heart clenching painfully inside her chest.
“Alice?” her husband asks, panicked.
“I don’t…” She hiccups again, unable to say the words. Warm arms embrace and she knows it isn’t her husband. She pulls her son closer, causing him to sit on the bed beside her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she gasps against his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” he says soothingly, even though she hears the pain in those three words. “At least you’re back. At least you’re fine.” And this, she knows he says truthfully.
Her husband stays silent as she keeps apologising and her son keeps ignoring her words while he gently rubs her back.
It takes them quite a while to haltingly tell Frank.
It takes only a little bit longer before she starts to learn everything about her one and only son, Neville Longbottom.
* * *
They were trapped. She knew that much. Her husband was in another room probably being tortured and she would be next.
Even though they took her wand, they didn’t consider her much of a threat. They had made that fact blatantly obvious as they bound only her ankles and her wrists, allowing her to sit on the stone floor of an empty room with only one guest for company.
“Do you know what she’ll do to you if you don’t tell her what she wants to hear?” the masked Death Eater guarding her asked snidely. “She’ll torture you. She’ll torture you until you scream for death.”
Alice stayed silent. Such threats were not new to her. If the Order wouldn’t make it in time, she had a suspicion that tonight would be the last night she and her husband would spend amongst the living. They had known the risks when they had joined the Order all those months ago. She only wished that she had spent more time with Neville. There were so many things that she wanted to teach him.
“…and once she’s done with your mangled body, she’ll go after your family.”
Her head snapped up in surprise.
She could see a sinister smile spread across his lips at her reaction. “Worried, are we?”
“She will never find them,” Alice said strongly.
The Death Eater smirked. “She will run through your brain like it is hers. She’ll know what you know before long.”
Alice looked away, her heart beating maddeningly with panic. Frank didn’t know where she had sent Neville to keep their son safe. But, she knew. She knew everything.
The sound of heavy steps reached her ears, the noise bringing a large smirk onto the Death Eater’s face. “Looks like you’re next.”
She didn’t have much time. The moment the Death Eater turned away, she pushed herself upwards, lunging towards him gracelessly and forcing him to fall onto the ground. He grunted as she landed on top of him, her body struggling against him as he somehow managed to push her off.
With a curse, he stood up, kicking her in the stomach for good measure. As the footsteps got louder and her guard turned away from her to open the locked door, Alice pulled out the wand she had stolen from his robes and aimed it at her head.
The last spell Alice Longbottom cast before she was pulled out of the room roughly by her hair was a memory charm, one that required her whispering, “Obliviate”, under her breath.