Chapter 2. In which secrets are revealed.
"Mum!?" Neville whispered, he saw his mother sitting up in bed, her eyes searching him, her face animated, a smile on her lips as she looked at him, a twinkle in her eyes, no trace of the blank expression that had been there an hour or so before.
"Mum?" he asked again his voice hoarse. "Neville-baby."
"I want to speak to mum, alone." He said decisively, turning to the doctor and medi-witches, no one moved and he glared at them. His gra'ma coughed awkwardly and led them out of the room.
"Neville-baby?" She opens her arms and he sits on the bed and hugs her, it's a hug he has never felt before. A hug filled only with love, a mother's embrace, she places a kiss atop his hair.
"Neville, I'm going soon, you know that don't you?" Her voice is filled with sorrow as she strokes her son's hair. "What happened?" It sounded simple in his head, but once said aloud the question had so many answers. "A lot of things, some of which you don't need to know." She took a breath and held his hand; it seemed very familiar to her. "We were so proud when you were born but we soon found out Voldemort and the Death Eaters had started attacking some of the families with very young children, we had become targets for the Death Eaters, along with the Weasley's, Molly was pregnant with three children to look after as it was, and the Potters. "But why?" "I don't know love; I didn't truly understand it myself. Your father and I both thought he was trying to stop a generation from being born, that those children would become stronger than him."
"It was proved to him the night he killed James and Lily." She finished sadly. "The night Harry defeated you-know-who!" Neville shuddered at the thought of the Death eaters and you-know-who going after all the families and kids his age.
Suddenly remembering, Neville's mum sat up straighter and tightened her arm around her son.
"There was another reason we were put into our previous state, we had found out how Voldemort had killed the Potters, that bastard Pettigrew betrayed them." "But…but Sirius Black… he tried to kill Harry a few years ago!" Neville stuttered. "Sirius had no reason too, he's Harry's godfather, and he must have been after something else. There wasn't a rat around was there?" "Ron's rat Scabbers why?" "There was a secret that I only found out about by accident. Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew were all illegal animagi. Pettigrew took the form of a rat. Sirius must have been after Pettigrew."
A short silence enveloped them before Neville asked, "How long do you have left?"
"I don't know, but any time at all is a gift." Neville burrowed closer. "Why our generation?" "Neville-baby" she whispered into his hair, "Shh it's alright, there was a prophecy, 'Before the first darkness ends there shall be a new generation born, these children will unite in friendship and love to conquer that which is consumed in hate.' It had taken years to translate but eventually some of the ministry did it. 'Orphaned but strong shall be the first. Intelligent and wise will be a girl. A strategist and tactician, from a large family. To silent parents one is born. United we stand divided we fall.' Harry Potter was the first. We knew that but didn't have time to find out the rest of them. You're in there Nev; we were silent for a long time. Only Order and a select few at the ministry who had been working on the translation knew, but somehow the DE's and Voldemort got hold of the first part. They don't know who you are and what you will all become."
A chime was heard throughout St.Mungo's, signalling the next shift of doctors and medi-witches to arrive. "Neville, always remember you are special and you will become a great wizard, don't doubt that. You have a kind heart and we were, we are so proud of you and we love you. Give my love to your Gran. I would have loved to have seen you grow up." She smiled and kissed his forehead; she then settled back into the pillows and closed her eyes. The room became silent until her breathing stopped. "Goodbye mum." Neville whispered dropping a kiss onto her cheek, he walked out of the room softly closing the door behind him and went into the room directly opposite.
His grandmother was waiting for him, her hands clasping a picture tightly her expression full of sorrow and regret. She looked up when he walked in, her grey eyes tired and she looks old. He sits beside her on the overstuffed sofa and takes her hand in his own looking intently at the difference in the textures of her shrivelled hand and his own smooth one. "Can we go home now?" He doesn't look at her but his voice is pleading. She is gone. "Of course my boy."
Thanking the doctor and medi-witch they left the centre, hoping never to return there again.