Title: Futility
Author: LJ: SnarkySweetness; FF net: SchwartzyLogainne
Characters: Neville, Alice, and Frank Longbottom
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sad Neville.
When: Sometime Post Deathly Hallows.
Summary: Neville visits his parents, angst ensues.
Disclaimer: Jo owns, unfortunately, I'd love to own Neville.
Author's Note: Neville is the fictional love of my life and I love to torture him so I can make him better in my dreams.
Neville sat with his mother's hands grasped with his, gazing into the hollow, empty shells that were her eyes. She was having an 'off' day, one where she didn't acknowledge his presence; he liked the days in which, while she didn't recognize him, she did smile at him.
Neville sighed, a big part of him still longed for a day, just one day, a day that he could spend with his parents, where they could look at him with recognition. Neville would love nothing more in this life than to be able to be held in his mother's arms, while she and his father told him stories about their life together, and to be able to hear them say "I love you".
Neville liked to imagine a world in which parents were still his parents, that he would have siblings, many of them. He wouldn't be the shy, awkward, and non-special Neville that he was now; he would be a big bother who could set an example, be a protector, and who knew how to stand up for himself and not just for his friends.
He felt a small piece of paper being pushed into his fingers and looked down to see that his mother had given him another empty bubblegum wrapper. Neville clutched is slightly; he still kept every single one. He wasn't entirely sure where the gum went, his mother never chewed it and he never saw her hide it anywhere, so where could it be? That, like many other things, would probably always remain a mystery to him.
Neville loosened his grip on his mum's hands, keeping one in his own. He glanced towards his father, sadness washing over him. Frank Longbottom had once been a strong, stubborn, handsome man full of life and radiating energy, now he'd been reduced to a ragged, empty, and graying old man. Alice on the other hand, she'd been beautiful; bright, happy face and long, blond hair. According to his Gran, she'd had a 'cheeky' attitude, independent and freethinking was more the real story, if his mother's journals gave any indication. Seeing his mother look so close to being better off with death made his throat close up and anger boil and rise up in him.
This life had absolutely no justice to it; were it to, Neville would have grown up with the love of his parents, not with a Grandmother who belittled him for not being his father. He would have had a real family, he couldn't imagine anything more amazing or that would make him happier; to have a family. His chest ached; at the very least, he thought he deserved to be given them back now.
He knew it was futile to worry about things in which he had absolutely no control over and that were unchangeable. Neville really did enjoy his life; he loved Gran despite her faults, he loved his friends, even if he didn't see enough of them, he loved working with his plants, and all the fighting he'd done in the war had been to avenge his parents, he had done a damn good job of it by his standards.
Still, even with all of the things he cherished, an empty, black hole of loss lived in his heart, one that could never and would never be filled. The life and love that he had been robbed of in his infancy was that missing piece of his heart. Neville didn't think anyone nor could anything mask that pain.
Neville shivered a bit, looking back at his mum. He supposed it was time. With a sigh, he kissed her forehead, "I love you mum." Neville fought off the fresh wave of pain that emerged every time he didn't hear those words back from his parents. Neville rose, gently laying her hand back in her lap after giving it a final squeeze.
"I love you too dad," he whispered, giving his dad's arm a squeeze, before taking a long, hard look at the two of them, sitting together. Neville turned, heading for the door. Once his hand reached the handle, he stopped. Usually, this was the time when he'd stare back at them, longingly; making even more false wishes that could never be fulfilled. Neville realized now that he needed to stop torturing himself even more, breaking his own heart.
Neville sucked in a deep breath and left the room, not looking back, which was quite possible, the hardest thing he'd ever had to door. As the door shut behind him, Alice moved her hand over Frank's, giving it a light squeeze.