Title: The Visit
Author: Gelise
Prompt: NOTHING. Prompts are lame.
Rating: …PG? It's not bad, just depressing. No slash here either.
Mini Summary: Three years after the first fall of Voldemort and Kingsley Shacklebolt goes to check up on some old friends.

Jumping on the bandwagon of random-ass fan fiction.

He had been sipping coffee by a window when he decided he would pay a visit to some friends he had not seen in a long time. Three years had passed now, three long and terribly lonely years since the fall of the dark lord. It was over that cup of coffee that Kingsley Shacklebolt, former member of the Order of the Phoenix, realized the only way to cope was to see them for himself. He would write a letter later and make arrangements whether he liked it or not, whether his stomach was churning or not, and whether his head was hurting or not. After this thought crossed his mind he had sighed and dumped the rest of the cup down the drain; he had lost his taste for coffee a long while ago.

The very next day he found himself standing in front of a weather beaten door with flaking blue paint. It looked mournful. He knocked steadily on the wood twice and waited patiently. A kindly old wizard answered the door, his face buried under wrinkles and streaks from the sun. "Afternoon." Kingsley said with a small nod. The old man smiled toothily at him.

"So Kingsley, how are you?" Asked Augusta Longbottom. The woman was nice enough, even if she couldn't dress worth a damn. She and he sat in the Longbottom's cozy kitchen, the old man who was her husband off doing something in the next room.

"To tell you the truth, not so well." Kingsley replied as he stirred the cup of tea Augusta and her husband Charles had made for him.

Augusta leaned forward and placed a small, wrinkled hand over his. She smiled sympathetically and nodded her wobbly head. After a few uncomfortable moments for Kingsley she then removed her hand, still staring at him with a small smile on her lipstick-smudged lips. "No one is really well anymore." She remarked and then stood up to retrieve her purse from the nearby closet.

"And you?" He inquired politely, watching her as she rummaged through that great, green monstrosity she had always carried.

"Well enough I suppose." She replied with a sigh before pulling out a small, yellowed card from her bag. She handed it to Kingsley who accepted it graciously.

He stared at the card and attempted to fight the persisting ache in his throat. He quickly placed the piece of parchment in his robe pocket and attempted not to think too much about what was written on it. Finally he looked up at Augusta Longbottom, confusion shining bright through his eyes. "Why invite me here? You could have just sent the information on the card to me." He wondered.

There was a crash from the next room which didn't seem to phase Augusta whatsoever. "Would you like to meet Neville?" She asked quietly.

"Neville?" Kingsley breathed. "Frank and Alice's….?" His voice broke away as a small boy with a round face and large, wide eyes came running into the room, followed quickly by Charles. Augusta leaned over the small boy and gave an affectionate pat to his head. "Neville dear, this is Mr. Shacklebolt." She said in a warm tone.

The boy stared at Kingsley with a puzzled look on his face. It was clear he was unable to make anything of the tall stranger before him. For a long moment the two stared at each other, neither daring to make a noise. Kingsley's throat and chest continued to ache heavier and heavier as he began to recognize the features of the child. There were Frank's almond eyes, and Alice's round nose, and Frank's stare, and Alice's little ears….

Finally Kingsley slid off his chair and crouched in front of the little boy in the blue jumper. "Hello Neville." He said, managing to keep his voice from cracking. "My name's Kingsley." He told the boy with a gentle smile.

Neville continued to stare at Kingsley while both Charles and Augusta watching intently. Finally Kingsley shrugged and stood believing there was no use pushing the poor boy. "It's okay Kingsley, Neville here usually never speaks to anyone except for my brother Algie." Charles told him.

"He doesn't have to speak, not if he doesn't want to." Kingsley replied very softly. Suddenly Neville's lips parted and a large smile broke out upon his face. He was nearly floored by it - it looked just like Alice's, and then…."Kingsley."

Augusta beamed proudly at her husband. Kingsley returned the smile to the little boy in blue. "That's right, my name's Kingsley."

"Hi Kingsley." Neville replied and waved.

Later that day Augusta and Charles would ask Kingsley to take their grandson with him on his later visit. He had spent the entire afternoon playing hide n' seek in the old house with Neville and his answer was not a no. "It's his first visit." Charles had informed Kingsley while Augusta bundled up the boy for a brisk autumn day.

"First?" Kingsley replied, now nervous with this new information.

"We couldn't take him, it's too soon for us." Charles explained.

Kingsley paused for a moment before replying, "I'll have him back before supper."

Halfway through the stairwell climb Neville stopped and reached his little arms up to Kingsley, who picked up the small boy with a smile on his face and carried him to the correct floor. Neville rested his head on the large man's shoulder and took a short nap while he searched the halls for someone to help him. The yellowed card was clutched tightly in his hand. He finally found an employee who looked at the card briefly before pointing down the hallway. Kingsley thanked him and walked slowly in that direction with little Neville still sleeping on his shoulder.

After all the searching, after all the trouble he had gone through, he didn't have the heart to wake the boy up when they finally reached the destination on the yellow card. Kingsley stared down at it and read again for the twentieth time. "Longbottom, Alice. Longbottom, Frank. Room 12 A B, floor 4, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."

He stared into the small window. A woman lay in bed, and if he looked into the adjoining room next to it he could see a man pacing back and forth. He had talked to Emmeline Vance a few weeks after the incident - Alice had still been unconscious. Frank wouldn't stop screaming. There was no cure for both of them, the damage had been too extensive. For the rest of their lives they would remain in St. Mungos, unaware that their son was growing up without them. Finally he couldn't take it any more, he let the hurt run through his chest and throat until it seeped up to his eyes and burned them. He placed his head on the door and quietly sobbed.

All those Members of the Order, his friends, they were all gone now. Gone or in hiding, recovering someplace far away from the world. Benjy…they only found pieces of him. It had been so hard to bury a man with just pieces. Emmeline had been inconsolable. Then Edgar Bones and Marlene McKinnon were murdered right along with their families. Those two instances had led to many horrible weeks. Then Gideon and Fabian Prewett who put up such a fight, and Caradoc Dearborn who just disappeared one day, and Dorcas Meadowes who's body they found in a ditch, and the tragedy of Lily and James and poor Peter Pettigrew. They had all be murdered, and Frank and Alice? They may as well have been murdered.

He felt a tug at his robe and lifted his head from the door. Neville sat staring at Kingsley with wide eyes and then yawned slightly from his nap. He turned around in his grasp and looked inside the glass window with genuine curiosity. "Who?" He asked simply, pointing to the woman inside the room. Kingsley quickly wiped away the tear stains on his cheeks and brought Neville closer to the window. The boy placed his hands on the glass and stared intently inside.

It never occurred to him that Neville didn't have any memories of his parents and would not in fact recognize his own mother. He waited slightly in order to think about how he wanted to approach this matter. "That woman's name is Alice." Kingsley finally told him softly. Neville looked up at him and then back into the room where Alice was. "She's your mother Neville." He added carefully. He wouldn't lie to the boy.

"Mommy?" Neville frowned, pressing himself closer to the glass. Kingsley knew he didn't understand just yet, but someday he would. "Yes, your mommy. She's a very brave lady." He explained.

"She's sleeping." The boy pointed out.

Kingsley nodded. "She's very tired Neville. She sleeps here because it makes her feel better."

"She's sick?"

Kingsley hesitated for a moment. "Yes, she is." He answered.

"Will she get better?"

"I'm not sure Neville." He didn't want to say no just yet. It would be too much.

Neville went quiet and seemed to think intently on the matter. His little eyebrows were clenched together and his mouth was in a perfectly straight line. "I hope you get better mommy." He said finally, leaning back into Kingsley's arms. Kingsley bit his lip in order to stop himself from crying. Neville's mother would never get better.

"Want to blow her a kiss goodbye?" Kingsley asked, trying his best not to break down again. Neville nodded and placed a hand to his mouth, making a sucking sound and then flinging his hand towards his unaware mother. "Good job. I'll take you home now Neville." He said and Neville rested upon his shoulder again. The next visit he would take him to see his father…and perhaps they would bring a packet of chewing gum for Alice.