Disclaimer: Alas I don't own the Harry Potter verse. sigh.
Augusta Longbottom was a strong and intimidating woman. She wasn't beautiful in the soft way she knew most wizards appreciated. Especially not now, when she was getting to be quite old. Her face was too angular, her eyes much too calculating, and her smile too sharp. When she had attended Hogwarts, along with Minirva McGonagall, the boys had been weary of both of them. Minirva had, of course, been far too good at magic (and she still was) and her Quidditch talent intimidated them. But Augusta had lacked the giggling laughter, bouncing hair, and the playful smile the pureblood boys wanted in a girlfriend. Not that it really had mattered to her; they were a useless and simpering group the lot of them.
So when the time had come for her to be married (like a good pureblood girl she had told herself) her parents had settled on Herbert Longbottom, a good-natured and loyal Gryffindore. She remembered thinking he was a decent enough match, if not a little bit too alike a golden retriever. She hadn't married for love, but as they years went by she had found it in her late husband anyways.
Sadly he had passed away a few years ago. Lung cancer. If only he had stopped smoking those absolutely revolting cigars when she had asked him to. Maybe then she wouldn't have been left all alone, as the head of the Noble and Ancient house of Longbottom. Not that Augusta was in any way, unable for such a role. But she had thrived in helping Herbert from the sidelines, for it had allowed her beautiful boy to occupy most of her attention. Frank. Her heart sank, and suddenly she felt sick.
There wasn't a hell dark and cold enough for Rudolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. She hoped they rot in Azkaban for the rest of their miserable lives. Furry welled up inside her, bile rising in her throat. They should have both got the kiss for what they did to my beautiful baby she thought coldly.
No, she had never been a particularly warm woman, not even as a girl. But she had loved her family fiercely. Even Alice Prewitt and crept into her heart, although, she thought wryly Frank really wouldn't have allowed me to do anything but accept her.
And now they were all gone.
No. That wasn't right, she still had little Neville. He was such a fragile looking thing, he hadn't done any accidental magic either. Maybe he's a squib her subconscious whispered traitorously. What then? Will I be able to love him like I loved Frank? She caught herself on the last though.
"Merlin, I'm becoming bitter and shallow too… just like mother" She said tiredly into the silent, and empty room. Running a bony hand through her dark hair, she let out a long sigh.
No, She decided. That wouldn't do. She would have to love him, for she was all he had. If Alice and Frank couldn't be there to love the boy, and then she would have to do.
After a while longer of staring into the unlit fire, she stood up from the ancient living room chair, that she had take a habit of sitting in. It had been Herbert's favorite, and he had insisted on buying it, even if it had the most migraine inducing pattern. It was an ugly shade of orange, with small swirls and curls decorating its side. Of course he hadn't been allowed to keep it in the living room like he wanted, but they had settled on it being placed in the family library next to the fireplace. That stubborn man, she though affectionately. She went over to the large windows looking over the marble fountains down below. For a moment she let her mind be occupied by the layer of dust that had settled on the heavy maroon curtains, I have to tell the house elves to start cleaning the library again, I can't sulk in here forever.
It was such a beautiful day, too beautiful really. Augusta scowled, her lips pursing. Alice would have love it, she would have wanted them all to have had a picnic in the rose gardens, down by the maple trees.
The sky was so painfully blue, and her little boy was too damaged to even know it. Frank would never again come rushing into his fathers study demining that they all go outside to enjoy the unusually good weather. Alice would never again lie down on the grass next to her little baby, holding her husbands hand staring up at the cloudless sky. So in love, and so young.
"You would have love it Frank, and I'm sorry" She whispered, finally letting go of the tears she had promised herself she wouldn't shed.
Authors Note: Thank you for stopping by to read my story! I hope you liked it, even if this one was a bit sad. As Always, I appreciate feedback :)