Word Count: 511
There is a boy with kind eyes and a soft smile. He takes a seat beside her, and her smile brightens. "I'm Frank," he says, his cheeks flushing pink.
"Alice," she tells him.
…
Alice.
That is the word that comes to her mind sometimes. Her brain is broken, but something within her stirs.
"I…" She tips her head to the side, blinking rapidly as the words struggle to crawl up her throat. "I'm Alice."
…
"Well, what did you expect?" she asks, eyes rolling. "You went swimming in the lake. In December. All because James Potter dared you?"
Frank groans but accepts the vial of Pepperup from the Healer. He sniffles. "Seemed like a good idea."
Despite herself, Alice laughs. He is ridiculous, but maybe that's why she likes him so much. So, when the Healer isn't looking, Alice kisses his cheek. "You're hopeless," she says.
"Hopelessly in love with you."
…
She climbs out of bed and steps outside. Frank is here. He still has kind eyes and a soft smile, but Alice thinks that something has broken in his mind too.
They are damaged. That's the word the old lady with the bird hat uses. She looks so sad when she says it.
And she always has a boy with her. A boy who has Frank's kind eyes and soft smile.
…
"You say something? Alright, pipe down! You're under arrest." Frank glowers as he says it, and the expression is so ridiculous that Alice doubles over, giggling.
"Oi! I'm practicing my Auror face," he grumbles.
Alice laughs even harder. She presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Very menacing," she teases. "As frightening as a baby unicorn."
"Watch it," he says, brows raising. "I'll have to arrest you too."
She grins, adjusting her Department of Magical Law Enforcement badge. "I'd like to see you try."
…
"Frank?"
Does he remember? They are broken, but if she remembers, maybe there is hope for him.
"Frank?"
Silence.
Then again, it is night. Maybe he is asleep. Maybe the dreams don't keep him awake.
Maybe he will never remember her.
…
They dance under the moonlight. Her stomach is larger now, and Frank rests his hand on it.
"Soon," he says.
Alice grins. "Our Neville," she murmurs.
In that moment, everything is perfect.
…
"You shouldn't be out of bed, dear," the Healer says, taking Alice by the hand.
"Frank?" She blinks, frowning. "Where is Frank?"
"Bed, dear. You can see him in the morning."
"Frank! Where is Frank?" she screams, frantic.
"I need help! Someone bring me a sleeping potion!"
…
When Neville is born, Frank is there, holding a bouquet of scarlet roses. "I thought you might like these," he says softly, smiling as he moves closer. "So, this is him. Our Neville."
"Isn't he perfect?" she whispers.
"Just like his mother."
…
She wakes with a start, her vision blurry as she looks around.
She recalls kind eyes and a soft smile, and there is a name on her tongue, but she can't remember it at all.