Disclaimer: If anyone tells you that Only Sometimes owns or created the Harry Potter world, smack them for lying.
A/N: I'm hoping this one shot hasn't been done before, with something centered around Neville and his mother, so if it's been done, I really didn't mean to.
And, like always, review please.
And there is very little editing going on at the moment, so any mistakes...meh.
Dear Little Longbottom,
As you should know by now, your mother is dead. I hope that was not too direct, I have lost most of my social graces. The mediwizards here at St. Mungo's claim that it would be healthy for both of us if I wrote this letter to you, telling you about your mum, but that doesn't seem very likely to me.
I suppose I should go ahead and tell you how I knew your dead mother. I was Alice's roommate. You never saw me, no matter how many times you came because I don't like to be looked at. I don't, no, sorry, didn't mind when Alice looked at me, though. Now, don't you think that I was in love with your mother the way they say your father was, but I most certainly loved her. She was the best roommate that any of us could have hoped for.
That last statement would make more sense if I explained the type of people who reside here at St. Mungo's. There's Claire, she's covered in scars from trying to give herself unspeakable curses. And Laura, who laughs until she cries and then can't stop crying. There's the girl we call Ghost who refuses to come in contact with any sunlight. And a tall girl I don't really talk to but do kick over for fun. Of course, there are others, but they're not people I want to associate with. Most of whom have tried to kill themselves at one point in time, and obviously not succeeded.
This is part of the reason that everyone here loved your mum so much. Sure, lots of us have almost died at one point, but Alice nearly died for a cause. That takes more bravery than any of us could ever muster. And her shuffling would have been annoying if it weren't for the fact that it came from Alice. The way she never caused problems for any of us and was in there because of someone else. The other girls might blame others for their problems, but it was Alice who had people to blame for real, but she never did.
I also really liked the way she always looked forward to seeing you. She didn't show it in ways that those stuck up mediwizards ever saw, but I did. I was Alice's roommate, I should know. She looked for all the little shiny things she could, all the time. She kept them in her pockets for protection. As soon as they would go in, I knew I would never see them again until she gave them to you.
Despite what everyone else claimed, her eyes were always less cloudy when you came by. This letter started out as telling you about your mum, but I guess it's more of a thank you note now. For coming around. It made Alice happy. At least, as happy as she could be.
And it made everyone here happy when you came. We all went into the backroom and talked about you after you left. Alice never told us your name, but she also never told us her own name. The mediwizards said that she couldn't, but it's rather obvious to me that she just didn't like to talk. Simple as that.
I don't suppose you'll be coming around here anymore now? I'd let you see me.
No, that's silly. Why should you come around here anymore? Your mum's dead. No need for you to come here anymore. We'll manage without you to gossip about. Although, it'll be much harder to manage without Alice.
She always shared her biscuits at tea. She was very kind like that. I don't care what anyone says, she was mentally there enough to be kind. I should know. I was Alice's roommate.
I hope your proud of your mum. And your dad, if he's still around. No one told any of us here about your dad. I don't even know your name, but I think even if I did, I'd still call you Little Longbottom. I like the way that sounds. Sometimes, after you'd come for a visit, I'd ask Alice, "How's Little Longbottom?" And she'd look at me and then turn out her pockets showing that all the little shiny things were gone.
You meant the world to her.
I'll be honest, I've always been a slight bit jealous of you. Anyone who had the power to make Alice happy is obviously very important. This was most likely your point in life, to make her happy. I don't suppose there's anymore point to you anymore.
No, there is. To remind people of Alice. My point usedto be to shine shoes. I did it until I ran out of shoes. That was when I tried to terminate myself, but failed. So I got put in here. I thought it'd be awful but I was put in Alice's room.
I hope my tears aren't smudging any of this parchment too much. You should be able to read it. I'd fix it but I'm not allowed to use magic. If we were, I bet Alice would have made you thousands of little shiny things. She never wanted to give you big ones, those wouldn't fit in pockets. Alice taught me it's important to have things in your pocket. You never know what's truly important.
I hope you're actually reading this. I would be rather upset if I wrote all of this just for me. I think it's important to make sure others feel just as good as I do.
Then again, you're not just an other. You're Little Longbottom. That's important. More important than anyone else. Occaisonally I'll hear about some gardener, or potter or something, but I always think to myself "he's not a Longbottom!"
I don't feel like writing anymore. This might not be particularly emotional to you, but this is all about the best friend I ever had who's now dead. No, that's silly. Of course this is something to you, this is about your mum.
Goodbye from Alice's roommate.
"Mr. Longbottom, I trust there is a perfectly good reason you are weeping in my class." Snape droned from his desk. A few rows in front of him Neville Longbottom was silently crying in his class.
People throughout the class snickered at him. Crying in class! And Snape hadn't even been picking on him too much that day.
But still, Neville kept letting the silent tears fall.
"Granger, you're a bit of a know-it-all, why is your housemate weeping?" Snape was getting a big laugh at this from his Slytherins.
Hermione huffed, but looked at the parchment her partner was holding.
"When?" she whispered to him, he instantly understood what she meant.
"Three days ago." Neville's voice was raspy from crying.
"Well?" Snape insisted, impatiently tapping his fingers on his desk. By this time students around the room were smirking at him, waiting for a reason that they could all get a good laugh from.
"I asked a question!" Snape demanded, a smirk waiting behind his lips.
"Professor, if you could just give him a-"
"I didn't ask for advice, Miss Granger, just an answer." Snape growled. "So answer!"
"You want to know why I'm crying like some baby, Snape! My mum died. Three days ago, my mum died. Is that a good enough reason to weep in your class? Or would you prefer if my dad went ahead and kicked the bucket, too? Would that be allowed!" Neville screamed at the teacher.
"Mr. Longbottom!" Snape seethed.
"No, I don't want to hear it. I'm leaving. Y'know what? Fuck it. Just, fuck it." And with those last words, Neville left the dungeons.