Title: Time to Let Go
Pairing: Poppy Pomfrey/Frank Longbottom
Rating: K+
Warnings: Angst
Note: Remember how I said most of the drabbles in this collection would be under 400 words? I lied. Haha. Written for the "Matchmaker Game Challenge 2."
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Poppy pulled the blankets up to cover the sleeping figure on the bed. Her instincts as a healer were hard to ignore even when she was seeing the patient as a visitor. She took the seat beside the bed, looking sadly at the man lying on it. Frank Longbottom was no longer the man that she fell in love with all those years ago.
Now, he was a mere shell of his former self, unaware of the life he left behind. The "real" Frank would have been horrified to see this; he would rather have been dead than not recognize his own family and friends. It broke her heart to see him like this, yet Poppy still made her weekly visit to see him every Sunday. She couldn't bring herself to stop.
She usually tried to visit during the day when he was awake, but a few students at Hogwarts had held her up, so she didn't make it to St. Mungo's until he was already asleep. She supposed it didn't matter anyway, since he had no idea who she was, though the thought made her feel guilty.
He had been such a brilliant man – talented, friendly, and sweet. He was well-liked by everyone, but only a few people ever got to see his silly side. She was lucky enough to count herself as one of the few. He used to bring her a single poppy flower every day at work, saying "A poppy for my poppy" with a wide grin. It always made her smile, no matter how bad her day had been going.
Ending things with him was the hardest decision she ever made, but she thought it was for his own good. She was quite a bit older than him and had already gone through the "change", so she couldn't give him the family that he desperately wanted. He claimed that he didn't need children as long as he had her, but she couldn't let him make that sacrifice.
Yet having a child was the reason that he ended up in St. Mungo's. It was cruelly ironic. She knew that Frank wouldn't trade Neville for the world though. The look on Frank's face when he first held his son was something that Poppy would never forget; it was one of pure awe and wonder and joy. In that moment, she knew that she had made the right decision.
He used to bring Neville to visit her once a week, looking proud and happy. Poppy always found those meetings bittersweet, but she never told him to stop coming. A selfish, terrible part of her wished that she had never ended their relationship, because if she hadn't, he wouldn't be here now. She quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Dwelling on the 'what ifs' wouldn't do anyone any good.
She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but she brushed them away. She felt foolish. It had been thirteen years already; she should be stronger by now. Even Neville, the poor child that lost his parents, was coping better with this than she was. It wasn't right. She needed to stop living in the past and accept things the way things were. It was time to let go so that she could move forward.
She stood up to leave in sad determination, bending down to kiss his forehead gently one last time. He smiled in his sleep, and her heart ached at the sight. She practically ran from the room, knowing that if she didn't leave now, then she probably never would. In her haste, she missed the way Frank mumbled quietly in his sleep "a poppy for my poppy."
xxx
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated.