My very sentimental response to the New Year Challenge in the Harry Potter Forum. I have tentatively planned a second chapter for this, which I hope to publish some time this week. As usual, constructive criticism encouraged. I don't own Harry Potter. However, I do own a certain Healer, who is a very close friend of mine and makes a cameo appearance. This is dedicated to my grandmother - who is nothing like Augusta.
Be Not Afraid.
Neville Longbottom had never been what you'd call brave.
From childhood, he had winced, trembled, and sniffled his way through life, whether it was being held upside down by his ankles out of bedroom windows and being too scared to yell, to having to bunny hop the way to Gryffindor tower after Malfoy's Leg-Locker Curse because he was too scared to detour by Professor McGonagall's office for the counter curse. Not forgetting being too scared to ask his formiddable grandmother why she was always sighing and raising her steely eyebrows and talking over him to people about his lack of skill in anything. And, of course, there was the time (not that he'd told a soul) he'd almost wet himself after a particularly tense Potions lesson when Professor Snape threatend to posion Trevor. Just thinking of Snape and his horrible menancing eyes and his hooked nose, and that greasy hair, and his whispery voice and those awful flashing eyes...
Anyway, Neville knew he was not exactly the most courageous Gryffindor ever.
Normal Gryffindors don't get scared visiting their parents during the Christmas holidays either. Then again, he reasoned, normal Gryffindors' parents aren't in St Mungo's Janus Thickey long term ward, in the section full of the incurably insane.
"Neville, dear, don't you want to show Mummy your New Year's Resolutions?" Augusta beamed down, a trifle too brightly at her grandson, who looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Neville sighed quietly. He loved his gran, despite her bossy and overbearing personality - but why on Earth did she insist on treating him like he was five as opposed to fifteen? She gave him an encouraging poke in the small of his back.
"Go on. Alice, dear... Look what Neville did! A list of resolutions for the new year!" Augusta practically trilled. The small, mousy haired woman hunched under her blankets in the bed, didn't look up from her clenched and trembling hands in her lap. Neville swallowed painfully, the lump in his throat refusing to budge. He edged over to the bed as if approaching a teething Veomous tentacula.
"Mum?" He whispered. Even that was painful. Alice Longbottom didn't look up. Her trembling worsened. "Mum?"
Alice muttered something unintelligible and gave a shuddering jerk, as though trying to push off something unseen.
"Alice, dear?" Augusta stepped forward but Neville shook his head and put his hand out, motioning her to stop.
"Mum, do you want to see my list of new yea-"
Alice gave a sudden drawn out shriek as she leapt from the bed in a single bound to crouch against the wall, cowering away from her only son.
The door flew open with a wall shattering crash and two Healers came sprinting in, drawing their wands and looking concerned.
"Is everything OK in here?" Breathed the dark haired, dark eyed male Healer, as he edged towards a trembling, squeaking Alice.
Neville nodded quietly, his round face full of hurt. "Everything's fine, thank you." The motherly Healer standing behind the male healer, who was now coaxing Alice to her feet, gave Neville a sad sort of smile and a quick squeeze to the shoulder.
"She'll be OK," she assured. "It's all part of the programme - she just needs time to adjust. it's been a hectic day all round."
"I can imagine," sighed Augusta. "Is Frank almost done with his therapy for today?"
"Yes, he'll be out in a minute, I shouldn't imagine," the Healer said distractedly, peering over her shoulder. "I expect they're just finishing up his test results."
"Are things looking any more hopeful for him after, the, ah, last batch - ?"
"It's difficult to say at this time, Mrs. Longbottom. The potion is still in it's early stages and we don't like to make predictions at this stage. Results differ depending on the amount of damage received, and his frontal cortex - " the Healer broke off, as though suddenly noticing Neville for the first time, who had been determinedly examining his shoelaces as opposed to listening to his gran discussing the state of his dad's brain post Cruciatus curse attack. "Dear, why don't you help Healer Griffiths? He's just giving your mum some Dreamless Sleep Potion - we were going to save most of it for tomorrow, but given the panic - "
Neville got the hint. He edged forward uncertainly, to where Griffiths had gotten Alice to lay back in bed and was helping her sip from a goblet in such a childlike way that Neville felt almost moved to tears.
Griffiths looked up and smiled. "Don't take it to heart, son. This is a difficult time of year for your parents."
Neville nodded. "I know."
"The new potion we're trying out is giving positive results so far. Just keep your chin up - things may yet pick up."
"How much of that dreamless sleep thing are you giving her?" Neville asked, determinedly avoiding any conversation revolving around his parents' cure - he already knew what he needed to know, and pointless chat about possible cures didn't help. He pointed at the goblet. "How much?"
"The whole bottle. Not all at once - overdoses can push the sleep too quickly, it affects those with certain damages differently to those without. Why?"
Neville took a deep breath. "I-I made a list," he admitted, drawing a much crumpled piece of parchment from his jeans pocket. "Of resolutions. For the New Year. I know she can't really read much, but I thought maybe I could - sort of, read it to her..."
"Of course." The Healer nodded efficiently, and shot Neville an understanding smile. "I'd better get some more of this for your dad, anyway. If you need anything, give Strout a call," he beckoned to the Healer still in conversation with an unhappy looking Augusta. "I'll be back in about ten minutes." He got up and swept from the room, his lime green robes billowing behind him in a manner worthy of Snape.
Neville took another deep breath and scooted a little close to his mum, who was slumped back on her pillows, her eyes half closed, breathing heavily through her mouth, already drowsy.
"Sorry, Mum," he murmered. "I didn't mean to scare you earlier. I know you hate it when people make sudden movements around you." Alice Longbottom closed her eyes and forced her breath out in an odd hiss that was almost a hum.
"Anyway, Mum, I just wanted to tell you some more about being in the - " Neville paused, and glanced cautiously around him, before lowering his voice to a whisper and leaning forward slightly. "About being in the DA." Alice hummed quietly to herself, small beads of spit appearing on her lower lip.
"It's getting really good," he continued. "I'm getting really good - I can do so much now, that I haven't - well, not really ever been able to do before... not properly, anyway..." Alice's hums grew louder, the bubbles beading her lip more frequent.
"And everyone is in it together," Neville's eyes took on a faraway look. "Harry's a brilliant teacher, it's hard to believe he's only our age when he's standing there, teaching us how to do all this amazing stuff, even Hermione - you know Hermione, Mum, the really clever one who helps me in Potions all the time - well, even she has Harry teaching her. Ron's there too, it was really funny, the other day, he accidentally set one of the cushions on fire and it caught on this girls' skirt, I think she's from Ravenclaw, and you should have seen the look she gave him! Everyone was laughing." Alice blew harder, and Neville saw the tiny bubble hovering on her lips. He smiled sadly and watched. Alice blew harder, looking delighted as the bubble stretched and grew bigger.
"Careful, Mum," Neville cautioned. "You don't want to blow too hard, it'll pop otherwise." The warning came too late. Neville's heart gave a tremor as he saw his mum's face fall as the bubble broke and died on her lips - her lips that now trembled as she pressed them together, her eyes brimming as she looked pleadingly at her son, like a baby that had somehow been stretched into premature womanhood. Neville smiled wanly.
"Look, Mum, I brought you another present - this one won't pop, not like that one." He reached into his pocket and brought out the traditional Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. At once, like clockwork, Alice's eyes lit up and her mouth creased open into a melon slice grin. Her pale hands came up and waved childishly in the air as she reached for the gum, her gurgles of pleasure rising out of her throat. Neville carefully slide the gum out of it's wrapper and handed it to his mother, who beamed shyly at him and slid it into her mouth where she immediatley began happily chewing, already anticipating the bubble. Neville couldn't help but chuckle fondly, despite the salty tang of tears in his eyes at the sight of his mother already forcing tiny rainbow coloured bubbles out of her lips, for her to smile and pop them, and blow them again.
He cleared his throat hastily, not wanting her to see him upset. "Anyway, Mum, I basically just wanted to say - I made my Resolution. I know it's not New Year's Eve till tomorrow, but as I'm going back to Hogwarts in the morning, I wanted you to know that, my New Year's Resolution is just - well..." He shuffled awkwardly, and huddled closer to his mother, who was smiling blissfully at him as she stretched the gum over her tongue. "Gran is always telling me to be more like you and Dad, and I know you were in the Order of the Phoenix, and fought against, well... so I... next year, I'm going to be braver." He looked up, smiled, and hesitantly reached out to take her hand. "Especially for you." Alice Longbottom didn't respond to his hand in hers; she simply smiled at him. The empty, blissful smile of someone who has no idea of what has been said, but is aware it is of some value. Neville smiled back, and gently squeezed her hand before regretfully getting to his feet.
"I'd better go, Gran's waiting," he sighed, aware of her gaze upon him - out of the corner of his eye, he saw her beckon impatiently. "I'll see you soon, Mum. Give my best to Dad. I love you." Neville squeezed her hand one last time, and gently slid his hand out of hers. He had not gone ten paces before he felt a timid pat on his shoulder. He turned.
Alice Longbottom stood before her only son, hunched and stooped, her mousy hair whitened and her face lined and cragged. She gave a timid smile and pressed something into his hand. He knew what it was without looking.
"My favourite," he whispered. "Thanks, Mum." Once more, at his grandmother's reminder, Neville turned to leave. He paused only to thank the healer who held the door open for him, and to slip the empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper into his pocket, to join the others.