A/N: Written for the Hogwarts School and Witchcraft and Wizardry challenge, year 1 herbology. Prompts used: apartment, property, decision, education, student, shopping, politics, wood, competition

An Orphanage for the Longbottom Manor

A little apartment in Diagon Alley was a huge upset after living at the Longbottom Manor most of his life, but he was happier with what it was now. His grandmother had passed on just after the war, leaving him with all of her assets. He'd kept a few of them – some treasures of his parents always carefully kept, and there was even a scrapbook with articles that featured him.

He was tempted to give it to the library, but he'd held on to it at the end. Even if it dug up memories he'd much rather forget, it showed his grandmother's pride in him. The manor was a different manor though; it was too large for him, too empty. He'd toyed with selling it, but people generally built their family manors than brought one already made, so he decided to donate it as an orphanage for magical children instead.

He'd heard from Harry how Voldermort had used to be, how his roots had been from a dilapidated orphanage whose children were shown barely any love. He decided to change that; maybe then, he thought, they could avoid another Voldermort, and another Harry. Not that Harry was in a bad way, but he and Ron and Hermione and a bunch of his other friends agreed that Harry had been extremely lucky to run into the Weasleys at Kings Cross Station – and Draco Malfoy at Madame Malkins, but less people were keen to admit that one, including Draco himself.

He had the power to do something with that, and he chose to do it. Although, he was still a student: an Auror apprentice to be exact. He couldn't put his training on hold – and he didn't want to either. Being an Auror was important to him, not only because of his parents, but because of the children who would one day rely on him for protection. He also knew that the orphanage where Voldermort had been raised was burnt – burnt without anyone every discovering the curse. Fiendfyre, they'd thought. Or some other magic. Whatever it was, it had wiped out many children who could have grown into something great.

He got the orphanage started anyway; he couldn't wait. He organised a little flat for himself for the rest of the year, and the next. He roomed with a fellow Gryffindor, also in the Auror programme but away from home for different reasons. And he enlisted the help of other friends – others he had fought the war with. Luna was travelling as well, but she'd been happy to help. She found the first children for him, and sent more along every now and then. She also sent odd trinkets she'd brought through her travels: "things to liven the house", she said. And that they did.

Hermione and Kingsley had handled all the legalities, something Neville was extremely grateful for, since he knew next to nothing about politics. Harry looked relieved as well when Neville mentioned that to him, and had been quick to offer to assist in finances. "I've got more money than I need," Harry had shrugged. "And I'm not planning on lazing around on my butt once I'm an Auror.'

Neville had laughed at that. Harry certainly wouldn't.

Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks were the main matrons of the place, Andromeda even going so far as to move permanently into the manor. "It was lonely," she said, "with just Teddy. And we don't have a house anyway."

It had been destroyed buy some rogue Death Eaters days after the Battle at Hogwarts. Neville had almost fainted at the news; it was like his parents all over again. Luckily, neither Andromeda nor Teddy had been home.

Ron had surprised him. Of all the help Neville had expected (because he wasn't naïve enough to think his friends wouldn't want some hand in it), it wasn't to organise a fundraising chain for the orphanage. "Good publicity," he'd pointed out. "And it'll help you keep the place alive as well."

It would also help the place to grow, because Ron starting in scrimmage Quidditch matches stretched to Ginny Weasley and Oliver Wood bringing it into the professional circles. There wasn't an exclusive competition for them yet, but Ginny had told him laughingly the last they met that it wasn't an improbable possibility.

Neville himself dropped by whenever he could, getting to know the children, finding out which children needed what and bringing a new plant every now and then. His Auror training didn't give him many immediate results, but he was working on his Mastery in Herbology as well, and his research did yield interesting, if not always child-safe, results. He grew more and more attached to the children too, and they grew in both number and heart. They really became like the family he'd hoped they'd be, with Andromeda the mother that was always there, and Molly like the helping grandmother or aunt. He was the father, away at work but always dropping by. Luna and Hermione, who always dropped by with books and lessons, were aunts: one eccentric, the other strict. Ginny was somewhere in between. Harry and Ron were like uncles; George made more of an elder brother.

And it wasn't just the children. Everyone had thrown themselves wholeheartedly into the project, because it helped them cope as well. Andromeda had no time to mourn her non-existent house, nor the loss of her husband, child and son in law as well. Molly Weasley had no time to mourn for the loss of her son. Even he, Neville, had little time to mourn for his grandmother, who'd had a happier end to those who'd died in the war. And the little apartment was just a resting place; once he was an Auror and a Master, he'd be a permanent part of that orphanage.

He felt his grandmother would be proud with what it was now. He hoped his parents would be as well. He knew he was, and he knew as well he'd never have managed it alone.