A/N: I should probably create another collection for these. They don't really go in 'at last i see the light'.
Title: love in a locket
Summary: Neville mourns his parents. Hannah is there for him. Voldemort wins!au
WC: 796
Characters: Neville L., Hannah A.
Genres: hurt/comfort, romance
Warnings: character deaths, slavery
There was a time when things seemed simple. Well, 'simple' wasn't exactly the right term, but it was close enough. Go to school, visit parents, defeat an evil wizard; the end. Unfortunately, Neville could do none of these things any more. 'Unfortunately' wasn't exactly the right term either, 'heartbreakingly' might have been a better word.
First, the whole defeat an evil wizard part had gone drastically, drastically wrong. It had probably always been the least straightforward part of his otherwise simple life. But when Harry, Ron and Hermione came back for the Battle of Hogwarts, but without having found all the horcruxes, the events went as badly as could possibly be: Harry and Ron dead, Hermione still fleeing and currently missing.
Then, he couldn't go to school any more. He wasn't expecting to, after all he had finished his seven years at Hogwarts, but he had hoped to find an internship or pursue his studies in Herbology somewhere, get the job of his dreams, but know. The victory of the Dark Lord had shunned out all Muggleborns, and Half-Bloods and Bloodtraitors were turned into the servants for the Purebloods, the elite.
So that was how he found himself at Hogwarts, looking after the professors and students, at their mercy and coming to every beckoning of theirs. It wasn't at all the life he had imagined for himself.
And the last thing he didn't have any more, was being able to visit his parents. Frank and Alice Longbottom, survivors of the cruciatus curse. Bellatrix Lestrange – the name sounded bitter in his mouth – had gone and finished the job.
That, perhaps, was the hardest.
Which is why he found himself one night, in a dark dimly lit corridor of the Hogwarts castle, where he was supposed to be doing rounds which had finished and hour ago, mourning for his father and mother. He had a locket, with their portraits, smiling on the day they were married, his grandmother had given him when he was younger.
"Dad," he whispered. "I miss you. I don't know what to do."
And then he imagined his father, telling him everything would be okay, that he was proud of him, soft little lies like that. Things he already did before, when he looked into Frank's dull gaze, imagining what the Frank from before would have said to him. Except now, there weren't even those familiar blue eyes to look into.
"Mum," he turned to his mother. "I wish you would come back, and give me a sweet wrapper."
Alice Longbottom smiled back at him from her portrait, occasionally stealing a fond look at herself, but there was no sign of wrappers. He had kept them preciously in a jar at home with his grandmother. He didn't know where this jar was, now.
"Why did you have to go?" he asked, and tried not to let his hate of Bellatrix Lestrange overwhelm him.
You might've thought it would've been easier for him, a boy who had never truly had his parents but that was a lie. Or a comforting thought when grief was overwhelming.
"What would you say?" he continued.
Suddenly he heard a shuffle from the other end of the corridor. He turned his head and sure enough, there was Hannah Abbot, a candle in hand for light – they weren't allowed to have wands – standing perfectly still.
"H-How long have you been standing there?" he asked, snapping his locket shut. His whisper echoed against the walls of the corridor.
"Not long," she told him, walking towards him, "But long enough."
"Oh."
"Don't be scared. You can talk to me."
He could always talk to Hannah. Perhaps it was the only good thing that had ever come out of this nightmare. She was his silver lining, his little ray of sunshine, the thought that kept him going. It might sound sappy, but when was trying to survive, all of them were true. Hannah worked at the Infirmary, and her family was under constant threat so that she would do a good job. They had come together silently, secretly.
"Or not," she whispered and took his hands in he own. They stood there, together for a minute or two. Hannah always understood his feelings without him ever having to say anything. Just being there with her for a moment made everything better. The moment was full of understanding.
After a couple of minutes she shivered, but only just a little.
"Are you cold?"
"No," she said, but she wasn't convincing.
"Come here," he told her he brought her into a hug. Her skin was soft against his as they huddled for warmth. It was a perfect moment, just the two of them. A little bubble of love in a nightmarish world, enclosed within a locked.
