Hello lovelies!

I do want to start by apologising for the last chapter, really, I should apologise for all of part II in advance. Sorry. I will say all of your reviews were lovely x

I had a lot of fun messing around with the lore for one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families in this chapter, which family will be made apparent very quickly as you read, but I will not spoil it beforehand.

I recommend listening to Anchor by Novo Amor when reading this chapter!

Please leave a review and let me know what you think x

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

"It's not always just the heart.

Sometimes your mind breaks as well."

- r.h. Sin

Orkney (an archipelago of Scotland) was split into two groups: the North and South Isles. At the beginning of the last millennia, one of Frank Longbottom's ancestors grew tired of England and decided to claim one of the smaller islands to the North as his.

Aldrich Longbottom and his closely related family spent weeks weaving their magic into the land—they chanted for days at a time—and at the end they cut their palms and bled onto the earth. Wards engulfed the island, and it became unplottable to anyone not of Longbottom descent (through marriage or blood).

Longbottom Manor was at the heart of the island, and several dirt paths extended from the vast estate to several other properties around the island. Its grounds were beauteous and rife with fauna that others stood in awe and wonderment at, if they were afforded the privilege of visiting the island.

Nowadays, the Manor was mostly reserved for social events—though that had fallen by the wayside due to the war. Guests would arrive by floo or portkey. However, the right to live in the Manor was reserved for the current Heir and Head of the House Longbottom.

(A few people had been lost over the years when they tried to apparate onto the island; they thought if they'd been there before, they could easily apparate there, but alas, they were sadly mistaken. Although, an interesting fact was House Elves bound to the Longbottoms had no trouble going to and fro as they pleased.)

Frank's Father, Knox had offered to pass title of Head of Longbottom House to his son after he graduated from Hogwarts, but Frank politely declined and insisted that he needed not take up the mantle for several years. After all, Knox Longbottom was forty-seven when he and Augusta were blessed with Frank, and was expected to live a long, healthy life.

Frank and Alice decided to live a humble, quiet life outside of their careers; they were surrounded by so much carnage, death and misery on a daily basis. Additionally, their desire extended to their home, and they currently occupied a modest, quaint cottage on the edge of Longbottom Manor's grounds—just within its walls—that was just big enough for the three of them.

Frank's uncle, Algie, was resentful of Frank's decision, but not in an openly crass fashion. He grit pleasantries through his clenched teeth whenever they interacted. He held some affection for his only nephew, but not enough to override his disdain for how Frank treated his role as the next Head of the Longbottom house. (Algie had his own sizable plot of land to the East of the island where he, his wife and their children resided.)

In his mind, Frank's behaviour was deemed as squandering his birthright for nonsensical reasons. In a way that only someone born into having everything could be capable of. Algie was content to sit by and leave their family's affairs to his brother for the most part because Knox respected his role, and approached it with such solemn severity, that Algie couldn't find room for complaint.

Frank Longbottom was not a foolish man, and he was abundantly aware of the growing contempt that festered in his Uncle towards him and his choices. But, the wizard thought it unwise to accept the position considering his profession.

After the war ended, Frank planned on retiring as an Auror and becoming the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom and all that title entailed. His sense of justice, however, prevented him from sitting idly by when wizarding society was in such turmoil. Despite how bloody it was, the war was a delicate matter, the hands of power were shifting and they were on the precipice of that power falling into the wrong hands.

At least, that was Frank's plan before the prophecy swept in, and buggered everything up.

Unlike Lily and James, Frank refused to accept Dumbledore's offer and opted to stay on his ancestral island under the protection of his family's magic. He had extended an invitation to James and Lily through Dumbledore, but his former Headmaster said he would prefer if they weren't all together in case the Death Eaters somehow found a way to reach them.

Frank said poppycock to the man's face, but Dumbledore merely smiled with a twinkle in his eye and the discussion was over.

That being said, a month after Neville Frank Longbottom was born, a ceremony was performed. It was an ancient magical ritual used throughout wizarding society when an Heir took over for their predecessor (with some alterations unique to the Longbottoms). Change came knocking, and Frank, eldest and only son of Knox and Augusta Longbottom, became the new Head of House Longbottom.

Saturday, February, 7th, 1981

Orkney Islands, Archipelago of Scotland, UK

Longbottom Manor's Grounds

Awarnach House

Alice Longbottom grew more smitten with her son everyday.

Frank, Neville and Alice were in a semi-circular room on the north-side of Awarnach House, the place they'd called home for almost two years (Frank was the Head of House, but he'd opted to not move into the Manor whilst his parents stayed in their large home on the other side of the estate). The exterior wall to the north was curved and formed by a series of small glass planes, several ivy vines crawled across the tops of the glass panes and were incrementally creeping downwards.

The natural stone floors were slate grey, and their surfaces were slightly uneven. The walls were limestone. Several potted plants were scattered around the room, and some were hanging from the ceiling, nestled in expertly woven, netted, rope hangers. A loveseat with velvety soft white upholstery was in the middle of the western wall, flanked by two matching armchairs. A round, bright blue, shaggy mat was in the middle of the room and took up too much space in Alice's opinion.

It was an informal sitting room, that garnered the most amount of light in the house and even though there wasn't as much decor in comparison to the rest of the house, it was Alice's favourite room.

In the late afternoon, she would often sit on the ground in front of the exterior wall, nose inches away from the glass and watch and listen to the rain falling outside. A cup of herbal tea would warm her hands and rest in her lap, and she would bundle herself in a swathe of blankets.

Presently, Neville was lying on his back on the bright blue mat, making mirthful sounds, his feet bent, and his hands grasping at them. Frank was sitting cross-legged beside his son, bent close and making Sir Nicholas, Alice's teddy bear, dance in front of Neville.

Alice laid on her side, curled around her son, her head resting on Frank's knee and she giggled softly as Neville let go of his feet and gleefully reached for the bear. Frank carefully moved the bear in closer, and Neville caught one of the bear's paws. The boy stopped making noise, and fascinated, his face slack with wonder, he began batting at Sir Nicholas's arm.

Alice's heart was heavy during the latter months of her pregnancy, her mind clouded with darkness. She was isolated from all of her friends, and with her career stripped from her, she felt useless. However, being Neville's Mother brought joy into her life, and gave her purpose again. But, in the tiny hours of twilight, her mind caved to treacherous misery.

Thankfully, her parents, Harriet and Silas Brown, had temporarily moved in with Frank's parents, and she went to visit them every other day. Both sets of grandparents were more than happier to babysit Neville when the young couple asked. Which gave Frank and her some time alone where they could break down and if they wanted, be angry at the situation they'd been forced into.

Frank was a calm, steady presence that anchored her to the mortal plane. He was irritated by their unfortunate circumstance, but he wasn't angry. Not like she was. Alice didn't know she was capable of such fury, but she was, and it had plagued her for months, burning her up from the inside. Frank understood, and she loved him more for it.

Another saving grace was Lily's letters. On the third Saturday of every month, Frank opened a floo connection to Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, and the man would bring letters from Lily and news from the outside world. Alice would thrust her responses to Lily's previous letters into the man's hands and sprint away, clutching Lily's words like a lifeline.

Alice's best mate was going through the same thing she was, and despite how grim that was, she was happy that someone else in the world understood. Sometimes pictures would be attached, mainly of Harry, and Alice savoured every tiny detail in them.

(In April, two months later, when she received a picture of Harry with transfigured antlers surrounded by Sirius, Remus and James, she snort-laughed and choked on her pumpkin juice. Frank howled in laughter at the sight, and came over to see what had taken her by surprise. He rubbed her arm and pressed kisses to her temple as he apologised for laughing. Lily was not pleased, but she did find the humour in the situation, and what could she really have expected considering Harry's nickname was Little Fawn.)

Neville's mouth opened wide, and joy danced in his eyes as Frank stroked the boy's soft, blond curls; he was completely bald when he was born. Neville's eyes were bright blue at first, but now, they were a warm, reddish-brown colour. Alice stared into his eyes and some of the dark clouds in her mind cleared. There was hope for the future in his eyes.

Alice reached out, and lightly tapped the bottom of Neville's foot—he was wearing pale yellow socks— and she grabbed his attention. A radiant, toothless smile broke out onto his face, and it rounded his chubby cheeks.

"You know you're cute, don't you?" Alice smirked. She hummed happily when Frank stroked her head, his fingers dragging through the short strands. Alice's hair was growing out again, sticking up oddly in the process, and she'd been meaning to cut it for weeks.

Neville made a sound that sounded a lot like agreement, and his parents beamed down at him. No, the situation wasn't ideal, but there were worse things that they could have had to face. Worse things that brewed on the horizon, but thankfully, at that moment, they were blissfully unaware of that.

Blond curls, chubby legs that wobbled, and a focused determined expression. Neville was standing on his own, Frank's hands hovering on either side of him. Alice was close-by, hands outstretched and beckoning her son, making silly faces and saying encouraging things.

Augusta was sitting primly on the carpet with her legs folded under her, a magical camera, one of the newer models, held in her hands. It wasn't as bulky and unwieldy as its predecessors. She was waiting to capture the moment.

Yesterday, they'd remained in a stalemate for several minutes on multiple occasions when it appeared that Neville was about to take his first steps. All of the grandparents had been summoned, and they waited as Neville would stand up on his own, but remain stationary, staring at all of them with a small smile, as if waiting for them to do a party trick.

Augusta had come back that morning, camera in hand, and stated curtly that she would keep coming back until Neville walked, and to make sure they were decent before nine in the morning as she would be coming over at nine-fifteen and she wished to avoid any unpleasantness for everyone's benefit.

Neville's lips pressed together, and without warning he took an unsteady step forward. Augusta's eyes widened and she scrambled to pick up the camera resting in her lap, a tiny squeal of surprise left her mouth. The woman lost her composure for a brief moment and Frank's eyes darted over to her and sparkled with amusement before he honed back in on his son.

They were all delighted, and clapping and as if spurred on by their encouragement, Neville kept walking. For three more steps before he collapsed into his Mother's awaiting arms.

Alice swayed back and forth with her son, overjoyed, and Frank sat back on his haunches. Admiring his wife and son, and not for the first time he thought he was a fool to ever let her go. Frank'd never been more glad that she'd bravely declared her love for him in the Great Hall that day with Lily than in that moment.

Frank's smile faltered and his brow puckered. It wasn't just Lily helping her. The thought rattled around his noggin, and he scratched absently behind his ear. Alice's eyes had changed, they were piercing hazel and Frank's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He shook his head, and rubbed at his eyes, and his wife returned to normal.

What in Godric's name was that? Frank thought.

Saturday, October 31st, 1981

Orkney Islands, Archipelago of Scotland, UK

Longbottom Manor's Grounds

Brigham House

Alice screamed and screamed and screamed. The anger was back with a vengeance but this time Frank shared it.

Torrential rain flooded the island, it was miserable and thunder rumbled, and lighting lit up the heavens every few minutes. Alice banged on Augusta's door several times, cradling Neville to her side, he was wearing several, thick layers and clear rain poncho.

The door barely opened when Alice thrust her son into Augusta's arms. Harriet, Silas, and Knox were sleepily gathered behind Augusta in the foyer, swaddled in their nightwear and blankets they'd dragged from their bed. The tips of their wands aglow with blue-tinged white light.

Alice's hair was shoulder-length once more, and several strands were sticking to her face. She aggressively brushed it back from her face, the rain attacking her back. Frank was a foreboding, silent figure several feet behind her, equally as drenched and his anger was quieter, it was colder.

"Take care of Neville, Mum. We'll see you soon," Frank called out, his voice sliced in half by the gusts of wind battering them. Augusta's mouth opened and closed, sleep clogging her brain. She didn't understand what had happened.

Dumbledore sent Frank and Alice a Patronus message to let them know that Lily and James were dead and somehow Voldemort had been vanquished along with them. The normally calm and collected couple abandoned all rational thought; anger blindly drove their actions. The lions' priority was to hunt down as many of The Dark Lord's followers as they could. They didn't know what they would do when they found them, but they couldn't sit around and not do anything.

Darkness overwhelmed Alice's mind as she buried her burdensome grief that had been spilling out of her to the deep recesses of her mind. No, she didn't know what she was going to do, but she was going to do something.

The pain was too much, it was agonising and so she'd retreated into the safety of her mind. She was warm, and safe and trapped. Once she'd holed herself up in her mind's inner sanctuary, Alice Longbottom found herself unable to leave.

Alice saw it as her punishment for seeking retribution.

A strange thing happened to her as she wandered her mind's corridors listlessly. She found her suppressed memories, and desperate to know more, she tore down the walls erected around them piece-by-piece until everything flooded out around her.

Alice was submersed in it, drowning in countless moments. There was no telling for how long or how many times she drowned before Alice was able to breathe. After that, she easily swam through the moments and she remembered.

Years passed, and over time, Alice was able to fight back to the surface, just enough to watch the outside world, and meagrely interact with it. Time was meaningless in her mind, but she was able to gauge it as she watched her baby grow.

One day, Alice saw her friend again, but she was younger and her hair and eyes were all wrong. It didn't make sense, and Alice's head split open in pain as she pushed herself to make sense of it. Alice handed the girl a wrapper. The girl politely dipped her head and thanked her.

It was Hermione, but it wasn't.

Alice tried to respond, but as always, the words never came. Humming was the most she could do. There were basic things she managed to do on her own, like chew and swallow for meals, but it was hard and she couldn't do it for very long. Thus why most of her food was soft or bland; she missed flavorful, delicious food.

Hermione wasn't alone. A ginger boy and James were with her, and of course, her Neville and Augusta accompanied them. After fighting a thick fog for days after they'd left, Alice realised that it wasn't James, but Harry. He had Lily's eyes. She didn't pick up any other details.

Alice occasionally tried to focus on that moment, she tried to pick it apart, but it was too hard. A blistering pain would shoot into her skull, and it hurt.

So, Alice often retreated into her memories from before.

Alice was trapped, Frank was trapped, they were both trapped. Their prisons were so close, yet so far. She got brief glimpses of him when the Healers would help them up and using magic would force their bodies to walk around the room so their bodies didn't waste away. In those moments, Alice floated, for she couldn't feel anything anymore.

Alice wished she could communicate with her husband, and she saw light in his eyes when their gazes met, but he too was trapped. Frank was more mobile than she was, but he couldn't move his mouth or even eat on his own—his jaw rigidly locked in place, his lips parted slightly—so his diet consisted of supplement and nourishment potions that the Healers gave him twice a day.

The next real moment of clarity Alice has, her boy's face was covered in grime and he was older, he's a man. Neville was bleeding, there were cuts on his face, he had a black eye, and his cheek was swollen. He kept saying they won, and she didn't know what they'd won, but she managed to purposefully squeeze his large hand as he gripped hers.

Alice wasn't sure when he left, but he did, and thus she waited for him to return, or perhaps Hermione or Draco would visit. Alice hadn't seen Draco in years, she missed him.

Alice sat upright in her bed, humming, and her fingers twitched as she fiddled with candy wrappers. A female Healer had been giving her candies for years, and Alice liked the wrappers.

And thus, Alice Longbottom waited, and hoped one day she would no longer be trapped.