Chapter Six: St. Mungo's for Christmas

"Miss Hughes... Miss Hughes!" The voice I heard was not one I'd expected to wake me up in the early hours of the morning – it was still dark outside, that's all I was processing.

McGonagall's face had come swimming into coherence. "Professor?"

"Miss Hughes, I need you to come with me."

"But wh...?"

"No time for questions, Miss Hughes." I slid my feet into my slippers and shuffled quickly after her down the spiral staircase and out of the common room. I checked my watch. It was four in the morning. I didn't care that my hair was messy and falling out of its elastic, or the fact my pink nightdress was twisting around the shoulders. I couldn't think about that at a time like this – something must have happened.

As we speed-walked further and further away from the Gryffindor sanctuary, I began to get worried so I tested my luck again. "Professor, is everything okay?"

"Oh, far from it, Miss Hughes." Her voice was shaking, which doubled the fear weighing down my heart. If McGonagall was this anxious, it could not be good news. "I know you're close with the Weasley twins..."

My stomach did somersaults. "Are they alright?"

"Their father... he's had... You know, they really should be the ones to tell you what happened."

"I understand, Professor." Just because I understood didn't make it fair.

Just when I was wondering how long it would be until we reached our destination, or how long it would be until I could ask Fred what was going on. Both of my curiosities were answered once McGonagall led me into Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore stood behind his desk and he was talking to Harry. Meanwhile, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and Lizzy were already sitting on stools lined on the side of the room. All of the Weasleys looked distressed. Fred nor George didn't jump up and hug me as they usually would have, Lizzy seemed to be consoling Ginny, and Ron sat in complete silence.

The conversation between Harry and Dumbledore grew heated. "Were you watching this happen from afar or were you there, standing over the scene?"

"Neither, I... Professor, what does this mean?"

"I do not yet know, Harry."

When it was clear the Headmaster was going to say no more, McGonagall, in her nightdress and hair worn down, gathered the group of her students together. "We've arranged it for you to go visit your father in St. Mungo's for Christmas. If he's better soon, which I suspect he should be, Mrs. Weasley says you can stay at..." she unnecessarily looked around before whispering, "headquarters."

I noticed George begin to tear up, at which point I took him into my arms. "George, what's going on?" I asked quietly into his ear so no one could hear.

He whispered back. "Harry had a dream Dad was at the Ministry and got attacked by a snake. They inspected it, and it was more of a prophecy than a dream; Dad was actually... he..." A single tear fell from his eye and I embraced him once more.

"He'll be okay, George. He will."

The next day, all of us entered St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries escorted by Mrs. Weasley. She appeared to be the most distressed person in the building.

"Where can I find Arthur Weasley?" she cried to the woman behind the reception desk.

The woman looked at Mrs. Weasley patiently and looked at the list before her. "First floor ma'am."

She needn't say more before the Weasleys' mother ran toward a flight of stairs, followed by her family. We checked every room that we passed down the corridor, when suddenly I heard a screech that could only mean she'd found her husband.

"Arthur!" I didn't feel as though I should be one of the first people in the ward. He should see his family at such a time; Lizzy and I would wait outside the door – Harry was practically like family to them. From the sound of things, his injuries were healing quite well; though, he was probably still bloodied up, because I took note that Ginny wouldn't look at him directly.

A while later Fred came out of the ward with George and Ron. "How is he doing?" I asked hesitantly.

For the first time in a long time, Fred spoke to me. "He's looking... better, I expect."

"And how are you?" I added quietly.

"Dunno. Just a shocker to see him like that, y'know?" I wrapped him in a tight hug and smiled meekly.

"I know. He'll be alright to come home before we've to leave for Hogwarts?"

Ron's head pumped up and down, despite the frown stretching his features. "Yeah, he should be back by then."

I forced a grin. "Well, that's good news!"

Fred and George sighed and spoke up in unison, "I suppose."

We'd all spent the day at St. Mungo's – moving from his ward on the first floor to the visitors' room on the fifth did give me a lot of exercise and time to think. We'd learned the man sharing the ward with Mr. Weasley had been bitten by a werewolf, and a wild-haired woman was refusing to tell the Healers just what had bitten her. They assumed she'd been in possession of some illegal creature.

As I sat alone in the visitors' room for a quarter of an hour, I looked up as I did when a new face entered, only this time, I recognized the face. "Neville?"

"Sara?" His voice sounded more surprised than mine did. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with the Weasleys... Their father got attacked by a snake."

He gasped. "Is he alright?"

"It's looking up – he'll be fine, but the family's a bit of a mess."

"I'd imagine."

"Wait, what are you doing here?"

"Gran didn't want me to stay at Hogwarts, what with things being the way they are now..." Neville smirked bashfully and looked at the white-tiled floor. "Well, I'm visiting someone... it's always hard. Usually Gran comes with me. I hate going alone... Would you come?"

"Come where?"

"Fourth floor – spell damage." By being in the hospital all day, I'd learned that the fourth floor was for irreversible, unliftable curses – the absolute worst place to be sent in the entire building.

He touched my shoulder gently and led me to the staircase. "Who are we visiting?"

"My parents."

"Your parents are here?"

"This ward here, come on." My feet had lost the ability to move, so he tugged me in, but not long after, he couldn't move much closer to the two beds nearest the door. I ended up pulling his nervous, twitchy figure toward the occupied beds. "H-hi Mum... Dad."

The woman with short, greying hair that one could tell used to be thick and dark, and wrinkles around her hazel eyes smiled. "Hello, my child." Neville's face displayed nothing but heartbreak at her words. "Are you here to replace my water?" He looked in his hands to see he was carrying a water goblet. "Err, no..."

My eyes began to water at the realization of what was happening. They'd no memory of their son. "Are you going to sing for us, boy?" The man, I assumed was his father, asked. "I do hope so; it's quite dingy sitting in here all day. I could use the sound of a young talent such as you."

"No... I'm here to visit you. I haven't come since the summer."

Mr. Longbottom let his head rest on his left shoulder. "Summer? Do you visit often?"

"Yeah, I do... I... I wanted you to meet my friend." I took a step forward so I would be standing next to Neville. "This is my friend, Sara. She's actually helped me through quite a lot."

"That's sweet, dear." Mrs. Longbottom smiled. "Are you two...?"

I chuckled, feeling quite embarrassed. "Err, no Mrs. Longbottom. We're just friends."

"Well it's good to meet you." Neville's father beamed. "You should visit as much as this boy here."

Neville gave me a look, reassuring me they wouldn't know who I was had I come to visit again. "I will."

Leaving the ward, I wiped the tears building in the corner of my eyes. "Those were your parents?" I didn't know what to say, so I decided on, "They seem like nice people."

Neville smiled. "They were tortured in the First Wizarding War by a witch called Bellatrix Lestrange." He shook his head and leaned back against the wall. "I come to see them as often as I can hoping they'll remember me... but..."

"It must be difficult."

"Oh no, they were tortured because they refused to give up valuable information. They gave themselves for the rest of us... I'm quite proud to be their son."

I grinned and put my arm over his shoulder, which was hard to do, seeing as how he was so much taller than I was. "They'd be proud to have known you, Neville."

He nodded and smiled at me. "Thanks for coming with me, Sara. You should be getting back to the Weasleys now..."

"Yeah, I should. Fred's been quiet."

"Let them know I'm wishing them well."

"I will. Thank you, Neville."

"Oh, hey, Sara?"

Before I was completely out of earshot, he caught my attention making me turn around to look at him. "Yeah?"

"If I don't see you later, happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Neville."