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Written for A-Maze-Ing Race Challenge – Prompt: Certificate
Written for Character Diversity Boot Camp – Prompt12: Wish
Prized Possession
Losing someone you love to death is very hard; but it is something you learn to cope up with time. At first you feel nothing but the pain and emptiness. You yearn for that person's presence back into your life – the more you knew the person, the harder the loss is.
But that isn't even the worse type of pain – No, definitely not.
It is when you know that your loss is beyond anything you can comprehend but in every waking moment it is exactly within your reach – that is the worst. That was the loss Neville Longbottom had to endure.
His parents had been tortured to insanity, and Neville was left with not even the mere shadow of who they once were. His relationship with them changed drastically – he wasn't their son any more. He became the parental figure in their lives . . . and he knew that it was how it would remain until the end.
It hurt him a lot that he didn't have any memory of them - of the times when they had been his safe harbour. When he was young, he would ask his grandmother for stories about them with him. After a while, he simply gave up and turned to his imagination. But imagination could only get him so far . . .
He searched his home for any trace of memories – maybe a picture or two? But he found nothing but disappointment. All their belongings had been burned into the fire which had followed after their torture. He had nothing with all three of them together . . . absolutely nothing.
That was until he came across something. From the moment he found it, it became his most prized possession. For it was the only thing that kept him sane, the only thing that told him that he was after all Frank and Alice Longbottom's son.
He ran his fingers across the much seen and crumpled parchment, tears welled up in his eyes and emotion enveloped his heart every time he looked at it. Nobody but him would understand the importance of the parchment in his hands – he had lived far too long without anything to not.
His birth certificate. Both his parents' names were entered and below where the child's name had to be entered was his name – the proud (he hoped) curve of his father's handwriting – written down flawlessly.
That was the first time Neville Longbottom felt close to his parents. He knew he wasn't as brave as them and would never be. They probably would be ashamed of him if they knew that he was scared of his own shadow!
But he was their son – and having the written proof meant the most.
AN: Poor Neville! I do love him so much, but can't resist writing unhappy stories about him.
I don't know how this is, and I am very curious about your response.
I hope you liked it, please do review. =)