Chapter 20 – A Promise Kept
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Previously on The Forgiven: After the Longbottoms were kidnapped and tortured, Alice Longbottom made one last request to the Forgiven before she losing her mind forever. She asked them to watch over her son, Neville, in her and Frank's place.
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Ever since the boy could remember, he had the strangest feeling he was being watched.
It would always happen in random instances. A trip to Diagon Alley, a visit to St. Mungo's, or even as mundane a moment as when he tended to his grandmother's garden. A slight tickle in the back of his neck or an out of place something that just didn't quite fit.
At first, he thought it was his imagination. When the feeling persisted, he told his grandmother. She immediately overreacted and believed they were being targeted by dark Magi, who bore a grudge against Neville's parents. A call was made to the famed Auror, Mad Eye Moody, who would later assure them that no such threat existed. Augusta accepted the answer and breathed a little easier, telling Neville he was only imagining things.
Still, the feeling persisted. He was often scolded by his grandmother for his lack of courage and ability, but he stood firm by this one belief.
Finally, he absolved to find a solution. To catch his would-be stalkers in the act. The question was how he would do it.
Neville had nothing to go on, but the slight prickling sensation of being watched. Whenever he turned around, there was never anything there to confirm his suspicions. Out of the corner of his eye, he would sometimes catch a phantom figure staring at him, but when he tried to get a better look, there would be nothing but empty space.
Whoever it was who watched him, they were deftly sneaky and elusive. Neville needed to be clever about his detections if he was to find his stalkers.
His first major breakthrough came in a most unexpected form….
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Neville was having his regular haircut at a barbershop, when across the street, a peculiar pair of witches sat on standby.
Outside a humble café, drinking coffee and playing wizard's chess, was Grimm and Norse. Both of them in the form of old men via Polyjuice Potion.
"I still can't believe he's Alice and Frank's son…." Grimm mused.
"That is a tad harsh."
"I mean, it's like there's no resemblance whatsoever." Grimm moved a chess piece. "Check, by the way."
Norse frowned.
"Hmmm. Perhaps he is a late bloomer," Norse suggested as she moved a piece.
Grimm countered immediately. "Check, again— But you have to show potential to be a late bloomer. As far as I can see, Neville has none—as cold as that may sound."
"Some warriors must find themselves in the battle, not outside of it. Many stories are there of those lame in practice, but alive in the fight."
"Was that the case for you?"
"No. I was courageous and gifted in combat from the womb!" Norse wrote, while setting her queen down with extreme confidence.
And then Grimm ate it with her bishop. The chess figure with a long staff pierced Norse's queen, lifted her up, and tossed her off the board mercilessly.
"Checkmate. That was a terrible move."
Norse's king began to weep as she thumped the board in frustration.
"I was distracted."
"By what?"
"The waitress."
Grimm looked at the café worker through the window.
"Hmmm. I can see why. That barista uniform really accentuates her hips."
"I normally prefer a skirt but…"
"The way the pants hug her legs and butt has its own appeal."
"And now she bends over another table…."
"No wonder it was so easy to beat you. Remember why we're here at least."
"One eye on Neville. Another on this maiden's magnificently shaped buttocks."
"Norse, I don't need you sending me images of some woman's posterior through Legilimens," Liar suddenly communicated.
"Liar, what's your status?"
From the barbershop's rooftop, the wizard gave his report.
"Everything's clear. All the side streets, buildings, and alleyways. Aside from the one instance of assassins, no else seems particularly concerned on getting revenge on the Longbottoms."
"Let's hope so. Do one more circle and we'll head back. Neville's haircut is finally done."
"Another sweep it is…" Liar mentally groaned.
Grimm sipped the last contents of her black coffee and set the cup down with a satisfied breath. Norse took notice of it and began writing an urgent message.
"If you're finished with your cup, call the maiden for another!"
"No, Norse. We're done here. You can come back and bed her on your own time. Neville's already finished and is about to leave." She looked at the boy in the barbershop and frowned. "If he'd stop staring so absentmindedly at that mirror. I mean his hair's been done for…..ages…."
"Hm…? Is something the matter?"
"Wait….is he…." Grimm quickly established Legilimens with Liar. "Hey, I need you to read Neville's thoughts right now!"
"Yes? Well, sure….
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….You've been made. He can see you two in the mirror's reflection!"
Grimm and Norse immediately stood up, dropped the money owed on the table, and promptly left. All the while, receiving updates on Neville's thoughts.
"The boy's definitely noticed you two. He's getting up to follow. I must say, I'm rather impressed."
"How much does he suspect?"
"He's suspected we've been watching him for a while and this instanceconfirmed it. Good going to the both of you. Made by an eight-year-old child."
"Shut up. We've been watching him for practically his whole life. I'm surprised he didn't notice sooner."
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It was a such a small thing for Neville.
Under normal circumstances, he would have chalked it up to nothing. But the way those old men stared at him, and their abrupt departure after they seemed to realize something. It all shouted they were the culprits he was after.
Neville practically leapt off the barber's chair to chase after them. Unfortunately, as soon as he looked down the street, there was no longer any sign of the two. He would have to wait for another chance.
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Every first Sunday of the month, Augusta and Neville's day went like clockwork. They would have a nice early day special at a family restaurant. After that, a few hours of shopping and running errands. And by mid-afternoon, they visited Alice and Frank Longbottom at St. Mungo's Psych Ward.
The family had a room reserved all to themselves in which the boy spent some time with his parents. After the visit, Neville and Augusta would head straight home to practice the boy's spellcraft.
It was then, at the end of the Forgiven's protective detail, the three would always head back to the hospital for their own personal visit to the Longbottom couple.
As they walked down the halls of St. Mungo's , they came upon the receptionist desk. A small Imperius Curse later, one of the nurses moved the Longbottoms to their usual private room, where the Forgiven could meet without gathering attention.
It was the same every time.
As soon as the three entered the room, the Longbottoms' faces would brighten ever so slightly with recognition. It was so comforting, but heartbreaking at the same time.
The Forgiven never used Polyjuice Potion when visiting them. They thought it was in some way, disrespectful to do such a thing. Naïve and sentimental it may be, it was a personal rule they lived by nonetheless.
In the bright, white walled room, Liar and Norse conversed as much as they could with the couple. While the two Forgiven were fairly intimate with them, Grimm was not.
The small, blue haired witch always gave a polite greeting, but left the room right after. It made her extremely uncomfortable to be around the Longbottoms in their present state. Her heart couldn't bear to see them so—unlike what she had known.
She leaned against the door outside the room. Always excusing herself, telling Liar and Norse she would act as the lookout, but her comrades knew her reasons. They didn't like it, but they never pressed the issue.
On their first visit ever, Grimm stared at the Longbottoms for a good three minutes, before speaking in a shaken voice, "That's not them", and leaving the room.
It was cruel.
It was selfish.
Grimm knew this.
So until Norse and Liar were done, the leader of the Forgiven stood outside, expression heavy with guilt.
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"Is that what you really look like?"
Grimm looked to the side of her, where the small voice came from and found Neville staring right at her.
For a few seconds, Grimm wondered if she should Obliviate his memory. Meanwhile, the boy held the young woman under a timid, but intense gaze. Finally, the witch shrugged.
It was going to happen anyway. Might be better that he knows. Easier to protect him. Even if he tells someone, they probably won't believe him, much less catch us.
After Grimm's thought, she turned to Neville and spoke.
"How did you find us?"
Neville looked down at his feet and shifted nervously.
"I always felt like you were watching when Gran and I visited Dad and Mum."
"Hm. And you assumed we visited them after you and Augusta leave?"
Neville gave a small nod.
"Huh."
The two stood in silence for a while. Grimm could tell the boy had a thousand questions to ask, but was too timid to ask them. She wondered if she should be the first to speak, but cringed at the idea.
The witch hated situations like these. Her words always carried a sharp tone for those like Neville. An impulse she never bothered to curb or check.
*Sigh* Norse and Liar are better at these things than I am.
Grimm moved from leaning on the door to leaning on the wall. She pointed to the room with her thumb.
"Talk to the two inside, they can explain it."
"There are….three of you?"
"….Yeah. There's three of us."
Neville repeatedly looked from the door to Grimm, not sure what to do. The boy's hesitant nature began annoying her again. Impatience reached its breaking point when she sternly spoke.
"Or don't go inside. It doesn't matter."
Neville looked like he was on the brink of crying. Whether it was due to fear or the tone in Grimm's voice, it was uncertain. But right before he was about to break, the boy stiffened his upper lip.
With shaking knees and trembling hands he walked in front of the door and began turning the knob. It felt like it took an eternity for Neville to cross the small doorway, but once he had, he felt relief.
Upon entering the room, the boy saw the soft expressions of his parents matching those of Liar and Norse. Unlike Grimm, her two accomplices looked far more approachable. They were surprised at first, to be sure, but quickly put on a welcoming air. After the door made a small shut behind him, Grimm held a hand over her face.
Her cheeks tightened as her expression contorted with shame.
What the hell am I doing…? Getting upset and taking it out on that kid. As if life isn't cruel enough for him already….
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…I'm the worst.