Author's note: This was written for the 2013 round of HP_beholder, held on . I am posting each section here as a separate chapter, and should have the whole thing up in a day or two. Thank you to livejournal users teenagehustler, secondsilk and author_by_night for beta-reading. If you read this, I hope you enjoy!
Pomona spots Alice's son the instant she enters the greenhouse. Alice's hair used to be just that shade of pine; her lips that exact bow shape. Alice sat in this very room, eyes alight with curiosity and mischief - and later, with desire.
She hasn't seen him since he was a baby. Even when she visited St Mungo's weekly, Saturdays were her day; Sundays were Augusta's. When she thought of him, it was as an extension of Augusta, and thereby of Frank, rather than as Alice's son. Only as he stumbled toward the Sorting Hat, and then stumbled away still wearing it, did she admit it to herself. He is Alice's son; he is part of her.
He's a Gryffindor, of course. Brought up by Augusta, he wouldn't dare be anything else. Even Alice could be cowed by Augusta Longbottom.
She doesn't speak to Neville in lessons that first week, but on the Saturday afternoon, she visits Alice for the first time in months.
What this actually means is that she visits Alice-and-Frank, because in the years since their torture they have been reduced to a single unit. Nobody at St Mungo's ever seems to consider that they might once have had separate lives, friends, interests. Lovers.
So Pomona is shown to the double cubicle. The curtains are pulled around for privacy and she hands over her wares: the colouring book that Frank likes, and some chewing gum and an illustrated botany book for Alice. Frank takes his cue along with the coloured pencils and bends to his task, leaving Pomona with Alice.
"I've got Neville in my classes this year."
Alice glances up from her book but her expression does not change.
"Seems a good little lad. Bit shy, but school'll knock that out of him soon enough." Or the reverse, but Pomona will do her utmost to prevent that from happening.
She talks until she can stand it no longer - not because she wants to but because hope compels her beyond all reason. Alice is gone. She knows this. So why, whenever she visits, does she watch for any sign that the situation might be changing?
"I'm sorry," she says finally, and realises this is why she came. "I should have kept an eye on him. I should have done it for you, but I just couldn't. It hurt too much. I'm sorry."
