Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge?: 291. (pairing) Adrian/Neville
"Why are you walking so slowly?" / "I thought you wanted to go for a stroll"
Other prompts: Augusta Longbottom
WC. 850
All Grown Up
Augusta Longbottom frowned, pausing in the middle of Diagon Alley. What a strange sight it was, watching her grandson walk freely ahead of her, hand-in-hand with another man. And that wasn't even the strangest part.
No one even batted an eyelid. No heads were turned, no funny looks, no cruel words spoken. Everyone simply ignored them.
What a world she lived in after the war. She liked it.
"Come on, Gran," Neville said, turning to face her. "Why are you walking so slowly?."
Augusta put her walking stick in front and began her slow pace to catch up to the two young men. "I thought you wanted to go for a stroll. Besides, my legs aren't as quick as you young ones, you know," she grumbled.
Neville laughed. Augusta couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him so happy. It was before he'd brought Adrian home; before the war. But that young man by Neville's side had brought happiness to him when he needed it. It had been difficult wrapping her head around it to begin with, but it got easier the happier Neville became.
A Slytherin, though. Why did he have to be a Slytherin?
Many have changed since the war, Gran.
Adrian isn't like the others, Gran.
Not all Slytherins are like that, Gran.
But she did find it hard to believe that one could change so quickly. Wasn't it less than a year ago that that same young man placing kisses on Neville's cheek, had been declaring people like her grandson deserved to die?
Not him, Gran. He never believed that.
She let the matter slide, for Neville was happy, and that was all that mattered. He was grown, he could make decisions for himself.
Even if she didn't like it.
They led her to the ice-cream parlour. It was packed with so many smiling faces, so many young children. Their innocent faces shone as they licked cones of all flavours. Oh, how she wished that were Neville. How she wished he had not had to experience what he had.
Neville and Adrian took a spot in the corner, once again not waiting for Augusta's slow, frail legs. She hobbled over to join them, where they sat opposite one another holding hands.
"Now, you two," she said, offering a smile. "The ice-cream's on me. What flavour would you like?"
They both chose boring flavours, in Augusta's opinion, but she paid for them anyway, handing Neville his double scoop of chocolate and vanilla, and Adrian his single scoop of raspberry. Augusta sat beside her grandson with her cinnamon spice single scoop.
"Lovely day for a stroll, don't you say?" Adrian asked.
Augusta snorted. "If you call your pace a stroll, young man. Those Quidditch days of yours must have sped up your walking pace too."
"It's not the only thing that has -" Adrian stopped, seeming to realise who he was talking to. He blushed.
Augusta rolled her eyes. "Oh, I wasn't born a prude, Mr Pucey. I know what you mean."
That seemed to bring Adrian no comfort.
Good. Let him fear me, for he will never hear the end of it if he hurts my dear Neville.
No one spoke for some time after that. An uncomfortable silence. Either way, they finished their ice-creams in peace.
Once finished, Adrian and Neville locked hands again and were on their way, once again leaving Augusta to catch-up to them.
"Next time," she huffed, hobbling along on her walking stick, "if you two have an outing, do not invite me."
Neville and Adrian shared a look, the pair grinning.
"Gran," Neville said, holding back a laugh. "We all but begged you not to come with us, but you insisted."
Augusta huffed again. "Well, I had some things to do in Diagon Alley." She looked up at the two young men. She sighed. "Very well. I suppose I'll do those things then. I'll meet you back here in an hour."
Her grandson and Adrian didn't need telling twice. She'd barely said the words and they were hurrying through the bustling crowd, disappearing from her sight.
Oh Neville. Oh, my dear boy.
There he was, all grown up. Having his own life. Gone were the days she could take him to Diagon Alley. No longer could she hold his hand while they walked together, for he had someone else's hand to hold now. No longer would she be the one to take him to visit his parents, because he could take himself.
Her Neville was a hero in the wizarding world. A hero to her, to Adrian, and to every single person he crossed in the street. He was everything but her little, shy Neville.
Augusta Longbottom stood, watching the spot he had vanished. With a heavy, sorrowful sigh, she turned towards the apothecary, dragging her walking stick along with her.
The time had come, and that time was now. She had to let go of the little boy and accept the man.
He was still Neville, he was still her grandson. Only one thing had changed.
Neville was all grown up.
This was a result of working with the prompts I had. Thank you to ThisPiper for beta-ing. Please review if you can.