Hello, readers! This is written for The Houses Competition!(duh…) This is rated K+.
House: Hufflepuff
Category: Themed
Prompt: "The Forgotten Child."
Word count: 833
Neville took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Maybe today would be the day. Maybe today they would run to him and hug him. They would hold him and whisper how sorry they were for leaving him alone for so long. Maybe today would be the day.
Neville pushed open the doors to the long-term patients wing of St. Mungo's. He walked down the hallway to the place that was both the subject of his nightmares and his greatest desires. He sighed, then slowly made his way to the open door at the end of the corridor.
There was a weight in his chest, heavy and unyielding. His mouth was dry, and his free hand clenched and unclenched at his side. In the back of his mind, he was hoping without reason that their faces would light up when they saw him.
He ducked into the room, almost blinded by the sunlight pouring in through the windows. There they were, unaware of his presence -his existence.
Alice Longbottom was painting a flurry of yellows and reds and greens, all coming together to make a nonsense piece. Neville would have to remember that she was painting a new one for the buyers, unaware that the painting meant nothing.
Frank Longbottom was sitting by the window, reading a muggle book. Neville would have to ask him what it was about later. Neville raised his hand and knocked on the door frame.
"Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom? I have a special delivery from Augusta," Neville said, steadying the flowers in his hand. Alice looked up at him and smiled, putting down her brush and reaching out her paint stained hand to him.
"Thank you. Do you know how she is? I haven't seen her in a while," Alice said, still smiling. It was the same her. The same person Neville saw every week, but this was not the smile you gave your child. They were just acquaintances, and the hope that she would remember him fizzled like acid in his chest. He gave her a small smile back.
"She wanted me to tell you she was sorry. She had to organize the invitations and seating for the Christmas Ball," Neville said, the lie slipping easily from his lips. In truth, Augusta was six feet under the ground, buried on the Longbottom estate like her mother before her.
"Oh, that's too bad," Alice frowned, and took the flowers from Neville.
"What are you painting?" Neville asked after a moment, gesturing to the canvass.
"Oh!" Alice clapped her hands, her face brightening. "It's a flower field. See, I have roses, and poppies here," she was pointing at the corners. "And daisies with lilacs over here. I just know that Madison will love it." Madison was one of the people that bought the paintings Alice made. She had come to meet Alice once, and she seemed to buy even more of the pictures, now.
"I'm sure she will," Neville said, and turned his attention to his father. Frank hadn't moved, and was still reading his book. "What are you reading?" Neville asked gently, not wanting to startle him. Alice sighed when Frank didn't move. She stood up and snapped in her husband's face, and he jumped.
"What are you reading?" Alice asked forcefully. Frank blinked in surprise and confusion.
"Er- "The Iliad"" Frank said quickly, stumbling over his words. "It's a muggle book."
"That's nice, dear," Alice said, and Frank went back to reading. "You'll have to excuse him. He's having one of his days," Alice said in a low voice, looking at Neville apologetically.
"Oh, okay," Neville said, not really knowing what else to do. He smiled at his mother, and she sat back onto her stool in front of the easel.
"Well, thank you for the flowers. Will you tell Augusta that we miss her? It's been too long," Alice said, frowning a bit.
"Of course, Alice," Neville said. He turned away from her and walked to the door. He paused, and looked at his parents over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Alice. Goodbye Frank," Neville said. Alice beamed at him, and nudged her husband with her finger.
"Say goodbye," she said, her tone not offering refusal. Frank started and looked at Neville.
"Bye," he said shortly, his glasses crooked on his face. Alice sighed.
"Goodbye, dear," she said, and Neville left the room, unable to stand the way she spoke to him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning against the wall. "Something about that boy seems so familiar…" he heard Alice say softly before he left. "Frank, are you listening? Frank?" She asked, and she sighed when he didn't answer. "Oh, never mind, then," Alice said irritably. She resumed her painting as Neville fled the wing.
Some things got worse every time you tried to make them better. This was one of those things.
"Something about that boy seems so familiar…" The words rang in his head. She said the same thing every time.