Written for Russian Roulette
prompt - setting - Knockturn Alley
July 30, 1991
Wand? He had his father's old one. Check.
Cauldron? Pewter, standard size 2. Check.
Supplies? Phials, gloves, parchment, quills, et cetera. He had it all. Check.
Robes? Not quite yet, but he'd just been fitted for them. Half-Check.
Familiar? Trevor, welcome to the family. Check.
Broomstick? Not allowed. Definitely not.
Yes, Neville had everything he needed for Hogwarts, and after three hours trekking Diagon Alley with Gran, he was ready to leave.
Until she surprised him. With a compliment and a surprise.
"Neville, I can't believe how quickly you've grown. I'm so proud that you've been accepted to Hogwarts. You're becoming a man now, and there's something I need to show you."
Neville, flabbergasted, hurried behind her when she turned her heel and began striding through the streets he'd been so ready to leave. His grandmother never complimented him, and she was always straightforward about her plans. There was never any nonsense, or any element of surprise.
He worried for sanity, however, when she turned onto a street he didn't recognize. The street was darker than Diagon, and the wizards here didn't smile. This was no place for his Gran. Shouldn't she know that? Halfway through the street, after passing two shops with giant skulls emblazoned on the windows, he tugged at her robes.
"Gran? Is this safe?"
For some reason, she snapped. "Neville, if you are ever to be half the wizard your father was, you will learn to have courage!" Her face told him that she was disappointed.
He trembled a little, partly because of her response, and partly because of the realistic Inferi model standing in front of the shop to his right. Finally, they reached a spot where a shop should be, but wasn't. Instead, there were scorch marks on the ground. Neville, having grown up with magic, didn't have to be a genius to see that the marks were old but well-preserved.
Augusta's voice was softer this time. "Neville, this is Knockturn Alley. It's for Dark Magic. We haven't been here together because we don't have any reason to.
"You see this empty space? It's where your parents died."
Neville flinched at this. He hated it when she said that. He knew that the father he knew, the loopy one, wasn't the Frank that his gran had raised. But that didn't mean he was dead.
She noticed his flinch, but continued anyways. "This shop was where Bellatrix and your parents had their final faceoff…"
She unraveled the sad tale of the Cruciatus curse. By the end, he was crying, and she knelt down with him, and shared his tears.
Not everyone in Knockturn Alley was as mean as they looked, and some sympathetic passerby reverently placed their hands on the backs of the mourning, just for a moment, before they walked on.
Finally, in a hoarse voice, Augusta said, "I'm so sorry, Neville. Happy Birthday, son."