Yayyyy Augusta! Happy birthday, lady. Augusta has always struck me as a very traditional sort, but she seems to carry quite a lot of weight on her shoulders. I don't think she liked the idea of Frank and Alice getting married young, for instance. Anywho, some notes about timing: as keeptheotherone thankfully reminded me, Minerva knew that Augusta failed her Charms O.W.L., which I have decided means that they were at school around the same time, rather than Minerva being her teacher. On this timeline here, Augusta was a year ahead of Minerva in school, and I think they were on the Quidditch team together. :) Teehee.

Happy birthday Augusta!

17 April 2004

On her seventieth birthday, Neville invited Augusta to dine in one of the private rooms above the Leaky Cauldron, which Hannah Abbott was currently in the process of purchasing. Though Augusta thought highly of the girl and of the relationship as a whole, she and Neville had disagreed on several occasions with his recent desire to move into the manager's flat with Hannah—unmarried.

Which was why, though she was grateful for Neville's desire to treat her, Augusta was having a rather difficult time making herself at ease as she and Neville waited for Hannah to return from the kitchen. Not for the first time, she wondered if she ought to have insisted that her birthday dinner take place at her own home. At least there, she wouldn't have to worry that at any moment, she might be cornered into agreeing that her only grandson ought to move into a flat with a girl he wasn't even engaged to.

"Wait'll you see what Hannah's got for us, Gran," Neville said, drawing out a chair for her at the candlelit table. "She's an amazing cook, you're going to love it…"

Augusta nodded once, taking her seat. "I look forward to it."

There was a noise on the stair, and Neville turned around, hurrying to help Hannah and three serving girls with their enormous platters and covered dishes. Augusta was rather surprised; this was a much grander display than she had imagined from the Leaky Cauldron—but Neville often spoke of how it was part of Hannah's ambition for the pub to enhance its style and presentation.

"Elf-made wine," said Hannah happily, beaming as she placed the bottle in the center of the table, "And pumpkin soup." A young witch brought the tray to the table and laid the first steaming bowl in front of Augusta. "Thank you," Hannah said. "I'll call if we need anything else."

"Have a nice evening," said one of the girls as they disappeared down the stairs.

"Oh, Neville," said Augusta, "Aren't you worried that our dinner will get cold?" She gestured to the dishes that had been left out, and addressed Hannah. "Perhaps you ought to send them back to the kitchen."

"Not at all!" Hannah said enthusiastically, as she poured out the wine. "You see these dishes? They're so cunning, they've got an enchantment that will keep everything warm until we're ready to eat." She glanced at Neville and grinned. "Neville found them for me."

Neville gave Augusta a smile. "Don't worry about it, Gran. Have some wine. Hannah made the soup special for you."

Augusta looked down at the bowl. "Yes, I was wondering where on earth you found a recipe for pumpkin soup. I never knew anyone but my mother who could make it."

Hannah turned a little pink.

"I gave it to her," Neville said quickly. "Well…"

Hannah sat down, tucked her napkin in her lap, and said, "He really just described to me how he remembered it tasting," she laughed. For some reason, she seemed rather tense. "I guessed from there, I hope it's all right. Neville said he liked it."

Augusta pursed her lips, giving a short sniff of approval, and lifted her soupspoon, taking a small taste. "Well," she said slowly, "I think you may have forgotten the rosemary…or perhaps you haven't used enough," she mused thoughtfully. She picked up another spoonful. "But this is most agreeable."

Looking relieved, both Hannah and Neville both picked up their own spoons and began eating. Hannah, it transpired, had spent the better part of the day preparing a five-course meal, completed by an iced carrot cake and lavender tea, which they enjoyed in armchairs beside the fireplace in the large dining room. And apart from a few points of the meal, which Augusta felt ought to be noted for the sake of improving Hannah's culinary skills, it was a very satisfactory evening.

In the heat of the fire, however, she felt her guard slipping. She was very conscious of it, as a matter of fact, but the food (which had been very good, really…) and the wine (she had probably had a bit too much, for someone of her age…) rendered her incapable of doing much about it. She felt her back relax a little more into her chair, and nearly let her cake plate slide off her lap.

"Another slice, Gran?" Neville asked, pouring out another cup of tea for Hannah, with whom he sat on the sofa. He brought it to her and kissed the top of her head gently as he sat down and hugged her close to his side. And all at once, quite by surprise, Augusta's breath caught in her throat. She stared at them for a long moment, her mouth slightly open, until Neville looked at her with concern. "Gran?"

She sat up at once, shaking off the sleepiness. "No, Neville—thank you," she said primly. She placed her cake plate on the table, hoping that neither Neville nor Hannah saw the way her hand had just trembled. "I think I had better get going—it's rather late." She got up, smoothing her dress. "This was lovely, both of you, thank you very much."

"Er, Gran—hang on," said Neville, rising. He put a hand on her arm. "Can you…sit down for a second?" Augusta stared at him. "There's something I—" Hannah cleared her throat, appearing behind him. "There's something that Hannah and I want to, erm, talk to you about. Will you sit?"

Augusta felt her heartbeat speed up slightly, but she nodded. "All right." Taking her time, she resettled herself in the armchair. "I am sitting." She folded her hands in her lap. "What is this about?"

Neville took Hannah's hand as they sat down on the couch, and they shared a look; again, Augusta felt a wave of déjà vu. She steeled her nerves, almost certain as to what was coming.

"Hannah and I," Neville began slowly, "Well—we've been going out for—for almost three years, now. And—" He turned bright scarlet, and didn't seem to be able to meet Augusta's eyes. She watched him evenly. "We really love each other," he said quietly, and his hand tightened on Hannah's. "And, Gran, what we—what we want to tell you is—"

"Neville," Augusta sighed, "If this is about your living here, at the Leaky Cauldron, then I'm afraid that I am not ready to discuss it tonight. I have given you my views on the matter," she added sternly. "I do not think it appropriate—"

"We're getting married, Mrs. Longbottom."

Augusta looked around at Hannah, and for a split-second, she did not see her at all. She saw a round-faced girl, whose usually laughing eyes were filled with tears of embarrassment. And where Neville sat, she saw a blushing, angry boy, ready to fight and die for her.

Almost twenty-five years ago, Augusta had made the wrong choice. She had chosen disagreement and disapproval, and she was witch enough to admit that she had paid for that mistake, and would pay for it, for the rest of her life. And yet here she sat, faced with a chance to go over it again, and put something right.

"I thought that…maybe," Neville said slowly, "You might take to the idea better if I showed you…what it meant to me." He watched her, anxious and scared. "Gran, Hannah's parents agree. But…I can't get her to say yes unless you do, too." He smiled. "What do you think?"

"I—I think," she said, trying to regain control over her powers of speech, "I think that—" She blinked, and Frank and Alice appeared before her once more. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart twist painfully. "The fifth of July, next summer, is your parents' twenty-fifth anniversary," she said quietly to Neville. "And—if you would like me to, I would help you make all the arrangements you need." She stood up and looked directly at Hannah. "You would be a lovely summer bride."

Hannah's eyes filled with tears, but she laughed and stood up, hugging Augusta tightly. "Thank you!" she cried.

Augusta patted her back, meeting Neville's eyes over her shoulder. He looked pleasantly surprised, and gave her a smile of sheer happiness. "Of course, my dear," she said gently. "Welcome to the family."