AN: As always, prompts are displayed at the bottom, to avoid spoilers.

oO~WARNING: HALLUCINATIONS~Oo

the embers flickered orange; he was alone

AlwaysPadfoot

Nothing felt comforting. Neither the House-Elf's brilliant hot chocolate, nor the heat from the fireplace that kept the Hogwarts Kitchens toasty, made Neville feel happy at all. He was clutching the letter from his Grandmother in his hands and staring blankly at the orange flames in front of him.

The Aurors had tried to arrest her — just because of what he was doing.

She'd gotten away but that wasn't making him feel any better. She could have been hurt; she could have been killed.

Don't you worry about me, son. You keep doing what you are doing; I'm so proud of you.

That didn't make him feel better. Yes, Neville supposed it was nice that his Grandmother was finally proud of him, but his thoughts kept coming back to: what if he had lost her? She'd raised him. She'd made him what he was today, and yes, sometimes they didn't agree, sometimes it felt like she forced Neville's hand in important decisions, but she was his family.

Suddenly a shrill voice cut through the silence. "You're not thinking about quitting on me are you, Neville?!"

Neville's head snapped towards the familiar voice and his eyes focused on the figure of his grandmother. How could she possibly be here? As if answering the question her figure flickered and she appeared across the table, sat in front of him.

"What do I say in that letter, Neville Longbottom?"

Nevilles blinked, stunned that he was imagining his Grandmother berating him. Of all the things it could have been; it would have been far easier to deal with hallucinating Pygmy Puff's, or something along those lines. His Grandmother barked his name again and he jumped.

"Don't worry about me, son. You keep doing what you are doing." Neville read it aloud to the figment of his imagination — glad that no one was around to decided he was losing his mind. "But Gran, they could have killed you, they still could kill you."

"Psssh. Codswallop." Neville's Gran was suddenly sat right beside him, her voice hissed in his ear. "You know jolly well I'm a fighter; I will never give up. Just like your parents, and just like you. You're not going to stop fighting; you are giving Hogwarts hope."

"But—"

"Neville Frank Longbottom—"

"Alright, alright." Neville spoke quickly, pre-empting her lecture. "I will, I will keep fighting, but you have to keep yourself safe."

"Good lad," his Gran said, nodding.

If she'd been real, Neville was sure she would have patted him on the back so hard it probably would have winded him slightly. He found himself staring into the flames again, wishing his Gran was really here to provide him with some comfort.

"I'm so proud of you, Neville," his Gran's voice said, "I wish you believed me, son, because if I never have a chance to tell you face to face, I need you to believe me now — just in case."

Neville felt his throat constrict and tears sting behind his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say anything as the fire heated his cheeks. He swore, just out of in the corner of his eye, he saw the hallucination of his Grandmother touch the back of his hand.

The embers flickered orange; he was alone.

MOS: For Carrie's Demise [Neville / HurtComfort / Hot Chocolate and Fire]

Hogwarts: Muggle Media / Task 3 - Die Hard: Write about somebody who never gives up. / (word) jolly

Word Count: 547