Emma Barrows: Thanks for your review. As you can see I followed your demand and... updated soon. I'm currently reading your Silver lining. I'll review you! ;)
CHAPTER TWO
The sunlight of the end of the afternoon gently enlightened the comfortable living room. It was mostly brown and yellow, with touches of red to it. Adele decorated it herself when she was just a young bride. Now her husband was long dead and she was an old, very tired, lady. She could still see their two sons, little Frank and Algie, running around the coffee table, purchasing each other. Now it was quieter around here. Yes she was raising Neville all by herself, but he had always been a calm child. She remembered having sometimes wondered if something was wrong with him. She loved the boy more than anything else in life, although she knew she treated him hard at times. In fact all the time. She felt guilty for it, but she was just and old lady, in fact a really really old lady.
A vinyl record was on, playing a smooth ballad. It was an old song, popular back in Adele's time. Edmond Clapton was singing yet another love song, but she still liked it, mostly because of his strong, deep, gentleman-like voice. Right now, she wasn't exactly listening to it. The grand-mother was sitting on the yellow, red flowered, couch with a concerned look to her face. She was still holding the unfolded letter, but wasn't looking at it. She was gazing through thin air, allowing time for the words she had read, and their signification, to sink into her mind. She was just as shocked as she could have been. In their hurry to hide and protect their only son, Frank and Alice had not told Adele about the prophecy. Why Albus had thought valuable to tell her, she didn't know. His role will come at last Had he said. Other questions were easier to answer. Why did he tell her of this now, was an example. Adele knew that he felt the final battle was coming their way and soon.
Adele sighed and rested her back on the overly stuffed sofa. She gently closed her wrinkled eyelids and thought for the moment. She was too old for all the stress and fights that a war involved. She hadn't known her grand-son would have to play a role in this adventure. But now that it was pointed out to her, she feared for his very life. What kind of purpose was Dumbledore referring to? Whatever it was, Adele wasn't sure she'd survive to the loss of her only remaining reason to life.
Adele had probably fallen asleep because she awoken when Neville burst out of the fireplace, covered in ashes. He took a little step out of the fireplace, standing very still, his head down. He looked shy as though he'd done something wrong. Adele was rushed the urge to hug him, kiss me, tell him everything would be alright; but for a moment she couldn't. She knew she must do something, she truly wanted to, but truth is; she'd forgotten how to do that. Since the loss of her son and husband, some said she'd forgotten how to love, but she'd just forgotten how to express it. All these emotions therefore stayed bottled up inside of her heart, forcing her to show what looked like continual bitterness. She often complained Neville wasn't nearly as good a wizard as his father, but truly, she was proud of him. Neville was a good boy, kind to all, loyal, true and brave in his very own way. She knew she should have said something, but she stayed motionless.
Neville expressed a quiet bewilderment. "You may go now" said Dumbledore, looking at him over his half-moon glasses "I assume your grand-mother is currently waiting for you with that fabulous grapefruit marmalade of hers." He winked at Neville. "And I think you'll agree with me that this will be enough stunning news for one night." Neville nodded. Dumbledore was smiling lightly as though they had just been sharing a Sunday tea. Neville turned away without a word and entered the green flames Dumbledore had already lighted.
Moments later, he found himself standing in his grand-ma's old-fashioned living room. She was asleep. He didn't mean to wake her up, but he had to do a little step to prevent himself not to fall head first on the coffee table. She opened her eyes and Neville's flew to the letter on his grand-mother's lap. He could guess what was in it now. They stayed there for some moment. Both knowing the astonishing new, but not bearing to talk about it just yet. He knew what she thought. He knew she thought he wasn't the right one for this. He knew she'd say he wasn't nearly as good as his father. He just wished she'd be proud of him for once.
All of a sudden, it happened. Adele stood up, came to Neville and… took him in her arms. Neville was struck dumb. His arms fell numbly to his sides and his eyes widened in shock. His head was squeezed between his grand-ma's arms and chest. Then, he remembered. He remembered hundreds of things. A moment with his mom when he was just a little kid: they were in a park, the blonde woman lying on her back on the green grass. Neville had to be about three. She was holding him at the tip of her arms to make him feel like he was flying. At the beach, the day his father had taught him how to swim. When uncle Algie gave him Trevor. One time where he was playing chests with grand-ma, someone made a wicked noise, they both jumped and then… then… they laughed. Together. Even the memory of it seemed weird to Neville. They had laughed and then looked away with embarrassment. Neville opened his eyes again and his grand released him. Slightly moved, she went to the kitchen. Neville stayed there for a while, gazing in bewilderment. In the end he just said very gently "Thank you".
Albus Dumbledore looked at the blond hair on the back of Neville's head disappear from the fireplace. He took off his half-moon glasses and put two fingers where they had been sitting on his nose. He looked rather troubled. At first he hadn't meant to tell Neville about the prophecy, but things were getting a bit out of control and Albus was worried they would run out of time. He knew Neville had in him all the strength it took, but he also knew that, long years of depreciation by some of his peers and hard discipline from his grand-mother had weakened his self esteem. He sincerely hoped that Neville would in fact, have nothing to do with the final battle, but he doubted it would be the case. He feared sacrifice would be in order.
At the Weasley's house, it was all confusion and promiscuity that day. I mean… more than usually.
In the middle of a quiet afternoon (Ginny and Ron were out to play Quidditch, Charlie, Bill, Fred, George and Arthur were at work and Molly was gently sewing), Arthur Weasley apparated in front of his wife in an abrupt "pop". It caused the poor woman to hurt her finger. A single scarlet blood drop fell to the white blanket she had been mending. "ARTHUR! How many times have I told the twins NOT to do that?" Arthur was redder than heaver and panting heavily. Molly raised her head and saw her husband's face. "Honey, what is wrong?" she asked, worried. Arthur was still fighting for breath and when he did not answer she hurried him "Arthur you are scaring me. Tell me! Is it the children?" Mr. Weasley shook his head and put a hand on his wife's shoulder and the other on his ribs. "Was in middle of London, had to run for miles before finding a place where I could disapparate from. Shacklebot… You-Know-Who… The Order. got to get the children."
Like in a bad dream, Molly saw herself from the top, just a bush of red hair whilst she was running in the garden to get to her youngest loved ones. They both ran for the door and their parents rushed them into the fireplace. The floor, encumbered with things that, in their fudge, they had made fall. No more red heads. Silence. BOOM! Grass, boards, bricks, dust, broken furniture… the sky. No more burrow.
You know you want to hit that little "Go" button in the left corner. :)
