Chapter 1

"Click. Click. Click." The sound of Gabrielle's footsteps echoed through the corridor as she briskly moved from one room to the next. Her trademark red patent heels drifted through the wards, pausing as she cast her expert eyes on each patient. St Mungo's was as familiar as home to Gabrielle, and each of the many staff was greeted as a long lost friend or relative. A special warmth was saved, though, for Camille, who approached her now, waddling under the strain of her expansively swollen abdomen. As they hugged awkwardly around the unborn baby (which looked set to make an escape attempt at a moment's notice) Gabrielle laughed.

"You look tres jolie, sweetheart" she smiled warmly, the French in her accent unabashedly conspicuous, even after all these years. Camille beamed with pride.

"Not long now. Connor is starting to get jittery; every time I get the slightest twinge he's packing my overnight bag." Excitement twinkled in her warm, brown eyes, and there was a rosy glow in her cheeks.

Gabrielle laughed. "So he should be. It's good to see you two finally starting the family you've wanted so badly." She placed a friendly hand on Camille's shoulder, and Camille smiled again, breathing in to speak.

"Gabrielle!" called out a male voice from across the ward "The Longbottoms are here to see you" the nurse explained, indicating a tall, dark-haired man in a cardigan and his young wife, a blonde, willowy woman with mussed hair and scruffy purple robes. Wheeling round, Gabrielle smiled at the couple, and crouched down to wave at a small boy hiding behind them.

"Hiya Frank!" she cooed, as the boy's shoes suddenly became an object of avid fascination. With a laugh like the peal of a bell, she rose back to her feet, now addressing his parents. "Neville, Luna, come on through". She waved towards a glossy walnut door, which swung open silently as she indicated it.

Inside, the tiny room had all the warmth and intimacy of a cottage kitchen. It was, in fact, Gabrielle's office, and the many photographs and newspaper clippings displayed proudly in frames around the room held fond memories of friends and family. Ushering the Longbottom family inside, Gabrielle conjured up four squishy armchairs in a semi-circle around the crackling log fire.

"Please, take a seat" she purred, "I'll be with you in just a moment." As she said this and exited the room, the small boy with sandy hair and solemn eyes toddled around the room, trying to see the pictures on the wall. Unable to see any of them from such a low vantage point, he began to grizzle.

"There there now, Frank, let's not be a grumpy guts" soothed his mother in a sing-song voice, lifting him onto her hip so that he could see the pictures better. In the frame he had reached rested a pristine clipping from an old copy of "The Daily Prophet", dated from just over ten years ago. This clipping was one of Gabrielle's oldest, dating from her teenage years, and it told of the on-going Triwizard Tournament taking place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I remember this! Neville, come and see this!" cried out Luna "It's the Triwizard Tournament!"

Frank reached out for the clipping, gurgling contentedly. "Unca Harry's all wet!" he babbled, pointing at the photo accompanying the article. Harry Potter (who stood in the foreground, with the lake behind him) was indeed dripping wet, a towel around him as he talked to Ron Weasley, who was in a similar state. To one side of the photo stood Gabrielle and her sister Fleur, also in towels, their faces telling of exhaustion, but exhilaration.

As Neville stood to examine the clipping, Gabrielle re-entered the room breezily, wand in hand. Seeing what had caught their attention, she laughed.

"Has Frank spotted me yet?" she inquired curiously. "Perhaps he wouldn't recognise me; it's such an old clipping. Anyway, how has he been?" She took a seat in one of the armchairs.

Tearing themselves away from their nostalgia, the Longbottoms also sat down.

"He seems to be taking after his father; he's so clumsy! I swear, he'd walk clear into a nest of Nargles if we took our eyes off of him for long enough!" Luna's laughter tinkled like a babbling brook, filling the tiny room.

"He burnt his hand on my wand this morning. It's why we brought him in" Neville explained uneasily "Luna put some ointment on it, but it still looks quite sore."

Reaching out and taking Frank's hand, Gabrielle examined the small black mark on his left palm. She smiled.

"Boys will be boys, as they say. Luna, you did exactly the right thing. I'll just bandage this up and you can take him home. Pop back in a few days and we'll see how it's healing up." Her tone was soft and reassuring, and with an elegant flick of her wand, bandages swathed the teensy hand. In the blink of an eye they were tied off, and the Longbottom family rose to leave.

"I was very sorry to hear about your grandmother, Neville" said Gabrielle as they turned to leave "My condolences."

Neville nodded piously, "Thanks", and led his wife and son from the office.

As silence fell in the office, Gabrielle sighed, turning back to the clipping on the wall, which she lifted down. Sitting in her armchair once more, she settled down to read it, remembering those happy, innocent days before the darkness fell…