House: Slytherin
Category: Short
Word Count: 694
Prompt: [Word] Brave
A/N: First off, this is an AU. Second off, a huge thank-you to Carol and Kristina for beta-ing! 3
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The gravestone simply reads Neville Longbottom and sits on a small plot of freshly-turned earth, atop which grows a small Mimbulus mimbletonia. The site is quiet in the early morning stillness, but Augusta Longbottom is not alone. With her, she brings the memories of Neville's father, of Neville's mother, and of Neville himself.
At the thought, a tear begins slide down her old, wizened face. Neville. He is gone now, completely so, and in part, she knows it was her fault. So many times, she compared him to his father. All Neville had wanted was her approval, but she had always ignored him. She had always said he wasn't as brave as his father, as noble as his father, as Gryffindor as his father. And now, she is paying the price.
"I'm so sorry," she says, her voice quiet. "Oh Neville, you didn't have to be brave to make me happy, you didn't have to be your father to make me happy… you just had to survive."
She knows she will never forget the Battle of Hogwarts. It had been the final stand against Voldemort, and the last time she had seen Neville. He had been duelling Death Eaters, holding his own against them, and when the fighting had paused, Voldemort's cold, high voice echoing throughout the entire school, she had sought out her grandson. Her memories play through her mind, sending more tears trickling down her cheeks.
"Did you see me, Gran?" Neville stands so tall, so strong, so battle-weary, and the familiar desire for approval gleaming in his eyes.
"Of course I did," she answers. "And your wandwork needs improvement." That evening, she teaches him countless spells and incantations, preparing him for the battle ahead.
And the next morning, the fragile peace shatters, and the fighting resumes. It is brutal and vicious - but when Hagrid brings Harry's pale, limp body in from the Forbidden Forest, everyone pauses, and Voldemort speaks. "Harry Potter is dead," he says simply. "Surrender, or die."
Augusta stands frozen, shocked, unable to comprehend Voldemort's words. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is dead. Her knees begin to tremble, and all around her she sees others, their own faces wearing varying degrees of surprise, surprise, and despair. But then she ses her grandson, Neville, standing firm and true.
"I will never surrender," he shouts, his wand clenched in his fist.
"Neville Longbottom." Voldemort appraises her grandson, running his red eyes over his sweaty, bloody form. "You are of pure blood, and you show loyalty, Neville Longbottom. You would make a valuable Death Eater."
"I would never join you," Neville spits.
Voldemort's eyes narrow. "Then you shall die." With a flick of his wand, Voldemort has her grandson immobilized, the Sorting Hat atop his head. "There shall be no more Sorting at Hogwarts," he proclaims. "Instead, there shall only be the noble House of Salazar Slytherin." Then the Sorting Hat bursts into flames.
Augusta watches it burn, her grandson frozen beneath it, and knows he will die… but then he leaps to his feet, the still-burning Sorting Hat clutched in his hands, and from its depths he draws the ruby-encrusted sword of Gryffindor. With a roar, he charges forward, flames wreathing his head, and in a single stroke he beheads Voldemort's monstrous snake.
He screams his victory and his defiance to the entire world - then, a bolt of deadly green light strikes him, and he crumples. As he falls, the sunlight flashes against the sword's silver blade, and she glimpses the inscription. It reads: Godric Gryffindor.
With a start, Augusta remembers where she is. She is kneeling at Neville's grave, flowers in her hand. She gets to her feet, the words of Gryffindor echoing in her ears:
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart.
"Oh Neville," she whispers, "You didn't have to be a Gryffindor to make me proud." She leaves the flowers atop his gravestone, her smile sad.
He may have died a true Gryffindor, brave beyond measure, but that doesn't matter to her anymore. Now, Augusta only wants one thing: her grandson, alive and at her side again.