Prompt #47: Alice Longbottom

Title: Her Name Is Alice

Rating: K+ (for brief language, slight Black- and Weasley-bashing)

Characters: Alice Longbottom, Neville Longbottom, Cedrella Black

Word count: 472

Alice sighed and started her knitting project anew. She was alone in the small dingy flat she shared with three other people. It was both a blessing and a curse, she mused, trying to get the knitting pattern just right. She was glad to be left in peace and quiet. A loud small space was no way to bring a baby into the world, though heavens know a baby makes noise enough. It was also nice to just sit here and knit and not worry about anyone else.

Alice didn't have to work. She should be working, but with a baby on the way, her flatmates assured her she needn't worry about anything. It slightly discomforted her a little, but everything worked out in the end, didn't it?

She clucked as her knitting threads tried to entangle themselves in her shawl. Getting things to right again, her needles clicked together as she worked up a rhythm.

But what was she doing here in this dingy flat?

Well, Alice grimaced, mentally answering her own question for the thousandth time, maybe if the Black family hadn't blasted Cedrella off the family tree, she'd have someone to turn to. Maybe. Just maybe.

Shrugging her shoulders as she boiled with rage, Alice got up and started cooking. Moving around and smelling food always calmed her down.

Neville Longbottom was sorted into Gryffindor, proving that, once and for all, he was no coward. Although scared to take on the role and responsibility of such a noble House, Neville trusted his ancestors and respected the Hat's decision. That night, he wrote an owl to his mother telling her what had happened.

Alice sat down hard when she received Neville's letter. Gryffindor? Heavens above! No, no, no, no! This could NOT be happening! Her little badger was a GRYFFINDOR?

Alice yelled curse words into the quiet air of the garden she was tending. It was her new project. How to breed saplings.

How could Neville Longbottom, descendant of a long line of Weasleys and Blacks, be put into Gryffindor when he had a whole lot more Black than Weasley in his blood?

Throwing down her spade, Alice gave up. Praying she thought, "God bless, but please don't let his Huffie tendencies show through!"

Twenty-four hours previously, Alice would have sworn Neville would make a fine Hufflepuff. Now, she'd have to start her knitting project over. Again. Gryffindor. The red and gold. The red and bold. The stupid idiots.

Her fearful, logical son was now surrounded by idiots. Lovely. Alice huffed about a bit more for good measure. Gryffindor, my arse! she thought.

"Well I never," she said with finality. Taking a deep swig from a bottle, she closed up for the night and got ready for bed.