Therapy
From the outside, Sigrun Rotfang Hospital for Spell Damage looked like a large Muggle house with a grand garden around it. Hardly different from the other houses strewn around it. Even some Muggle security equipment had been added. Frank didn't know if it actually worked or if it was supposed to make the Muggles think the house was owned by someone rich and reclusive. The hospital was located fairly high up on the hills above Heidelberg and allowed for a splendid view of the town. Frank could see the ruined castle as well. He would have found it all very beautiful if he had been here on a holiday but with things being the way they were, he couldn't really enjoy it.
Reluctantly, he walked towards the entrance of house. He tapped the doorbell with his wand as he had been instructed to do and the door opened. From the inside, the garden looked even larger than it had before. There were greenhouses as well. The hospital obviously grew some of its own herbs. Alice would love this, he thought. If only she could be here too, alive and free. It would be much easier for him to feel at home here if he knew she was safe. At the moment, he knew nothing. Cordelia and Gary had invited him to a gathering and Quidditch training held by the British Immigrant Community. Maybe he'd find someone who could give him information there.
The hospital had a porter who checked Frank for Polyjuice Potion, the Dark Mark and his wand for recent use of dark magic. "I'm sorry but this is necessary for safety reasons," the man said with a rather thick accent. "Many patients are victims of violence and not all the perpetrators are caught yet."
"Yes, of course. Better safe than sorry," Frank said.
Security had always been an issue at Saint Mungo's. The most common procedure had been sending Aurors to stand guard at the doors of patients in special danger. He had fulfilled this duty quite a few times himself. Doing a basic check-up first wasn't a bad idea.
Frank was allowed to enter the hospital and found himself in a hallway with pale yellow walls and a floor guide not unlike the one at Saint Mungo's. To his relief, everything was written down in English as well. He didn't feel like returning to the porter and asking him for directions.
The ground floor contained the emergency room and the cafeteria; the first floor was simply labelled Spell Damage", the second Dark Magic Injuries, the third "Magical Instabilities" and the fourth "Permanent Residents." The place where Frank needed to go was located on the uppermost floor. "Centre for Magical Victims of Torture and Abuse."
Frank hated the way they phrased this. He didn't like thinking of himself as a "victim." The word came from being defeated. He didn't intend to admit defeat. The struggle wasn't over.
A male Healer in white robes levitated a bed into one of the lifts. The patient's skin had turned an ugly blue colour and he had sprouted something that looked like tentacles. A typical result of more advanced magic gone wrong. They'd probably go to the first floor.
Frank considered the lifts for a moment but decided to take the stairs. He didn't like to be stuck in a small lift with people he didn't know and couldn't trust. In the Ministry lift, he had once been attacked by a Death Eater who had managed to keep his allegiance hidden until then. Frank had defeated the man but it had been a shock. Moody's repeated "Constant Vigilance" afterwards hadn't helped either.
The staircase was not lined by pictures of Healers suggesting unpleasant remedies, maybe because the hospital had only been founded after the Grindelwald war. The only things on the walls were signs telling the visitors where to go and how far the various departments were away. They were quite useful, Frank thought. Transparent doors led into the various departments. Frank could see a few Healers, patients and visitors on the corridors.
When he had finally reached his destination, he stood in front of a wooden door. "Leitende Heilerin, Elke Neubert," the sign on the door said. So the woman Cordelia had recommended was in charge of the entire department.
The door didn't simply open, Frank had to ring a bell. A few moments later, a witch and a wizard in blue robes opened the door. They had name tags with the German name of the department on their robes but obviously weren't Healers, they seemed to wear white robes.
"Good morning," Frank said.
"Good morning. Mr Longbottom?" the witch asked.
"Yes, that's me."
"Come in then."
Frank did and closed the door behind him. "I have an appointment with Madam Neubert."
"Yes, just sit down here," the witch said showing him into a waiting room. "She'll be with you in a few moments. Would you like something to read? We have the Daily Narrator here if you're interested."
"Yes, thank you." Frank hadn't found the time to read the paper at Cordelia's this morning. Something to take his mind off the approaching meeting with the Healer was very welcome. He had no idea what she intended to do. He didn't have any illnesses that could be treated with potions or spells.
He looked around curiously. The walls of the room where painted in yellow and orange and there were a few pictures on the walls. Some of them had been done by patients. The small signs underneath them told the people in the waiting room that much and where the patient had come from but no names.
Frank didn't have to wait long. About five minutes later, the blue-robed witch returned and led him to something he assumed must be Healer Neubert's consultation room. Her door was open. Frank still knocked and the Healer got up to greet him.
"Where do you wish to sit?" she asked next. There was a square table with four chairs in her room. Frank chose one on the side where he could see the window as well as the door. Madam Neubert took the chair on the opposite side. She had short blond hair, greyish blue eyes and laugh lines on her face. At the moment, she looked very serious though. A writing pad and a Muggle pen lay in front of her.
"I've seen you at Anthony Goldstein's speech," she said. "And at those troubles afterwards. You put up an excellent fight against those Dementors."
"Thank you," Frank said.
"It's a very good sign, that you're able to produce a corporeal Patronus," the Healer said. "It means that your self-healing powers have already achieved much as far as magic damage goes."
"Good. I'm only here because I'm required to get treatment before I can work as an Auror," Frank explained. He rather relied on his "self-healing powers" than on any so-called Healer.
"Yes, you've been referred to me by Healer Schneider," Neubert said. "He sent me a copy of your magic pattern. Let's discuss this first, shall we?"
Frank shrugged. He already knew from Healer Maric what was wrong with him but he didn't want to tell her about him. Never give unnecessary information; this had been one of the first things he had learned during Auror training. He wondered if she was the kind of "Cruciatus curse expert" Maric had advised him to seek out.
The state of Frank's magic obviously hadn't changed since he had been examined by Maric. It wasn't that surprising given that only about two weeks had passed but he had still hoped that his defensive skills might improve somehow. They were the Healer's main concern.
"Apart from the damage to your magical defences, there's nothing pathological to see on here. Some of the connections are weaker than they normally would be in an Auror but that will pass with time. You're even capable of powerful white magic like the Patronus Charm. This is extremely unusual for an as yet untreated wizard in your situation."
Frank felt a faint hint of pride at these words.
"We will carry out a few more specialised magic tests if you agree," she continued. "You will perform basic spells and have some performed on you and we measure your reactions. This way, we find out exactly what state your magic is in and can prescribe a matching training regimen."
"Alright," Frank said. This sounded quite sensible. Regaining his full magical strength was extremely important to him.
"Are you suffering from any other symptoms?" she asked.
"Nothing serious," Frank answered.
He didn't want to complain about something like headaches and nightmares. Whining about had never been encouraged by his mother. It was unworthy of a man, pure-blood and Longbottom. He didn't say that aloud of course because he knew that Healer Neubert, being none of those things might be offended.
She obviously guessed what went through his head though. "If I'm supposed to help you, I need to know what's wrong. You're not here to prove to me how much you can endure without complaining. This is not Auror training or something like that."
"I don't think I need help. I'm only here because I have to be." Frank knew this was rather rude but he didn't want her to drive him into a corner.
Elke Neubert didn't seem to be offended. "Know what we're doing? I have a list of common complaints experienced by Cruciatus curse patients. I'll read the symptoms out and you tell me if you're experiencing them or not."
Frank took a deep breath. "If you think it's necessary." Saying yes or no wasn't whining, was it?
They went through the list; Madam Neubert simply read the symptoms out aloud and explained the more difficult terms. Frank was glad to hear that he didn't suffer from some of the most unpleasant problems such as waking up and reliving the pain of the Cruciatus curse at night.
Her list included some problems Frank would never have linked to the attack such as his increased disease susceptibility or nightmares that seemed to be unrelated to the torture but contained catastrophic events. His desire to avoid remembering anything connected to the torture if he didn't have to seemed to be one of the "symptoms" too. Reluctantly he even told her that he had completely forgotten that he was a wizard at all during some periods of his life in the Muggle world and had assumed the role of "Frank Logan" completely. Specific words and occurrences had always reminded him of it, another point on Healer Neubert's list.
When they had finally finished he thought that it was unlikely, anyone at Saint Mungo's even knew about these things. He wondered how Neubert had found out but didn't ask.
"Well, most of our patients here are facing two problems," the Healer stated. "The damage caused by the Cruciatus curse directly and the problems everyone who has been tortured faces no matter by which means. As far as I can see in your case, the curse damage has already healed, as a result of the treatment you've received or due to your own self-healing powers, I don't know. Probably, it's a combination of both. That's a very positive development and makes the situation easier."
Frank was glad to hear this. The less he needed to have done the better.
"I think you're already at a point where we can start working with the actual memories relatively quickly," Madam Neubert continued.
"Do you really think this is necessary?" Frank asked. "There's nothing I can do to change it anyway. What good will it do?"
"Yes, this is necessary. It's the only way for you to regain control over those memories. The goal is you being able to remember the attack on you normally like you do with other events in your life. If we achieve this, you will not suffer from flashbacks, nightmares and the like anymore and your physical problems will improve as well. I know this isn't easy but I'm sure you have the necessary courage."
Frank would easily have rejected this idea. Lamenting about the bad things that had happened to him, had nothing to do with courage, had it? He couldn't really do so however because part of him knew that his reluctance to remember had to do with fear. There was no real reason not to tell her. The information had become irrelevant for the current situation and Neubert didn't know him or his family personally.
"Alright. I'll try it," he said.
"Good. We won't start right away; your magic examination needs to be done first and we need to make sure that you're accommodated safely. Fear and distrust are symptoms of your disease but we have already had patients who had good reasons to be afraid. Examining this and deciding what is a real threat and what is a symptom will be our first task together."
"That sounds reasonable," Frank said. "I have to admit that I'm not familiar with the security situation here at all. I've seen this attack of course but I don't know how frequent this kind of thing is. Maybe you know more about that."
"Yes. We'll discuss this at our next appointment. When do you have time?"
Frank had practically time all the time so it was easy to arrange for another appointment.
"We will not start with the memory work right away but I'd like to tell you about the different approaches to give you some time to consider what you think would work best in your case. You can simply tell me of course but as witches and wizards, we have other means at our disposal and some of those have proven very helpful. There are potions that make talking about difficult subjects easier or clear the memories but I have to admit that I usually prefer to go without those. Pensieves and Legilimency have proven highly useful though."
"You can do Legilimency?" Frank asked in shock. This hadn't occurred to him at all. Stupid of him, really. There were quite a few Healers at Saint Mungo's versed in this art as well.
"Yes. I would never use it on a patient without his consent though," Madam Neubert said.
"I'll have to take your word for it," Frank said.
"You probably do though I assume you'd feel such attempts," Neubert said. "Anyway, a Pensieve makes it possible to watch a memory without the emotions accompanying it. Doing this first can be very helpful under some circumstances. The same is possible with Legilimency too but that is a method which requires a high amount of trust. The Healer should observe the patients reactions very carefully of course but it's still her doing and an outside intrusion in a way."
"I think I'd rather not do this," Frank said. He had always been suspicious of Legilimency and viewed it as a kind of dark art, well except if Alice had done it. She had sometimes used it on him when they had been sleeping together but never without asking of course. No, this was a completely inappropriate thing to remember while facing a stranger skilled in Legilimency. Allowing her to look into his mind made him very uncomfortable.
"That's what I expected," Madam Neubert said. "If we come into a situation where it would be advisable, I'll suggest it again but this is purely your choice."
Frank hoped she was right and he could trust here there. He had been subjected to Voldemort's violent form of Legilimency once and it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. He had been able to hide away all the important information with his Auror Occlumency but it had still been extremely unpleasant. The Lestranges had tried it too but he had barely noticed in addition to all the pain.
"So you know about the options we have here now," Madam Neubert said. "There's an additional problem other patients do not have. You haven't been subjected to the Cruciatus curse but also to misused healing magic meant to directly destroy your magical defences. This is the most serious magic problem we have to deal with."
Frank took a deep breath. He hoped she would be able to suggest a remedy for this. Healer Maric had been unable to do so but she was specialised in this kind of thing.
"Yes, that's really bothering me," Frank said. "I'd like to be able to defend myself properly again. Is there anything you or someone else here can do about it?"
"There are many diseases, poisons and curses that cause magic damage," Elke Neubert explained. "In many of those cases, it's possible to undo this damage by working directly with the patient's magic. That's why Healers learn how this is done. This method has been used to cause the damage rather than remedy it in your case. If we don't want to wait for his problem to pass with time, it needs to be undone the same way."
Without any warning, Frank remembered. Bellatrix Lestrange passing him over to her husband. They all wore masks but Frank recognised them despite of that. His curse that didn't want to work until he started to mess with his magic. It had been pain different from anything Frank had ever experienced. The horror and helplessness had been even worse. Another wizard, able to tear his magic apart, the work of years destroyed in seconds. This kind of thing shouldn't be possible but it was. Being so helplessly exposed to someone who meant nothing but harm had been worst. Frank simply couldn't let a woman he barely knew do the same. Almost unknowingly, he shook his head.
When he looked at the Healer again, Frank noticed that beads of sweat were running down his face and he was shaking all over. Some distant part of his brain remembered that this kind of thing had been on the list of problems she had mentioned earlier but that didn't make him feel any less ashamed.
"I'm sorry. I don't have to do this, have I?"
"There's nothing you need to apologise for," Healer Neubert said. "No one here will do anything with you without your permission. Maybe the time will come when you are prepared to try it, maybe you won't and rather keep to magic exercise, this is your decision alone."
"Good," he said. Why did he need to make such a fool of himself?
"That's all as far as the medical issues are concerned," Healer Neubert said. "Our institution also offers other services such as free German courses, information about the Ministry of Magic, the asylum procedure and similar. We also have group meetings where you can share information about anything from helpful treatments to the local food and housing options for witches and wizards with other patients if you are interested."
Frank didn't intend to attend the latter, he had Cordelia and Gary to discuss everyday matters and he would hopefully meet more people this evening. German courses and the like would b useful though.
"We are also helping our patients to locate missing family members and friends if they wish us to do so and we consider them trustworthy."
This was information far more relevant than anything Healer Neubert had told her before. Could there be a chance that they might help her find out about Alice?
"Do you think you could find out anything about my wife?" Frank asked. He tried to keep his voice from shaking but wasn't really successful. His heart was beating very fast. "Alice Longbottom."
"Well, I've been talking to your son, Neville Longbottom when he was here last year. You have already heard of his visit?"
"Yes, I have," Frank said. Why was she only telling him about that now? She had spoken to Neville, that was more than Cordelia or Gary had done. He wanted to know everything of course. "How is he? Did he mention my mother? Do they force him to stay?"
"Your son seemed to be quite well," Madam Neubert said. "He sought me out to discuss his mother's situation in private. She's apparently living with him in England."
"Alice is alive?" Frank asked holding onto his chair. He couldn't really grasp that fact yet and he needed reassurance. "Is she free? Is she well?"
"She was definitely alive when the young Mr Longbottom was here. He and I have been conversing from time to time since then and he didn't mention that anything happened."
Frank still had trouble believing this. Alice was really alive and his Healer was in contact with Neville? There were so many questions he was bursting to ask. The remnants of his Auror senses told him that she hadn't answered his other questions.
"How is she?"
"She's been living with her son under his guardianship. That means she's probably as free as possible but you can probably guess how free a former opponent of the regime can be in this society. I'm not allowed to tell you the things you son told me when he approached me as a Healer but you can probably imagine how hard it is to recover in a country where both the law-enforcement and the healthcare system are in the hands of her torturers."
Frank could. The situation was better than most of the versions he had imagined before but horrible enough. She was under Neville's "guardianship" which meant she wasn't acknowledged as a person able to make her own decisions, she couldn't go to Saint Mungo's without fearing to walk into Lestrange and she had to live in constant fear of the Death Eaters day in day out.
And she had to believe that he had simply left her, fled to save his own skin without any thought for her. Frank hid his face in his hands. In front of his inner eye, he saw Alice smile at him when they met in the Auror department. This alone had made him feel better about the day's work, no matter how hard it was. They had always been there for each other, ever since this fateful evening when he had found her injured after she had escaped Death Eater imprisonment, the time when he had realised that she was much more than just a colleague for him.
And now he had fled cowardly telling himself that she was dead and left her in this hell. Could she ever forgive him? If he even saw her again. Would she want to see him again at all? Could she forgive him that he had simply stayed silent and watched them torture her? He had seen Lestrange do the same horrible thing to her, he had watched her endure all this pain and it had only been his fault. He had been the one they wanted; he had just dragged her into this.
Frank realised that there were tears on his face. He hoped that Madam Neubert didn't see. An adult man did not cry. At least not where someone could see him.
Frank looked away and tried to make it look as if there was something in his eye he needed to remove. Then he faced the Healer again and forced himself to ask something else.
"What did Neville write to you about? Did he still want help for Alice?"
Elke Neubert sighed deeply and hesitated. Frank was slightly taken aback. So far, she had led the entire conversation with professional distance. Was it so bad?
"Well, I know that hearing this will be extremely hard for you but I think you should get all the facts. You already know that Neville is working as a Healer in the UK, don't you?"
"Yes, and I also know that Lestrange is in charge of Saint Mungo's now. I've met a few colleagues here who told me."
Madam Neubert looked slightly relieved. She obviously didn't want to heap too much shocking news on him at once. "I'm glad you already know that. He's very interested in my work here. I've made it unmistakably clear that I'm not interested in any form of cooperation. Yes, he's actually had the nerve to suggest that."
The woman was a Muggle-born for Merlin's sake, Frank thought. A member of the very group Lestrange and his organisation wanted to eradicate. And he seriously suggested a "cooperation?" Frank shook his head.
"When I didn't respond to his owls either, he took to letting your son write to me. He obviously thought I might be more inclined to work with him. They seem to use him for this kind of purpose quite frequently."
Anger pounded through Frank's body. He got to his feet. "How dare he to approach my son like this?" he shouted.
It was simply outrageous. After everything he had done to them, Lestrange obviously tried to bind Neville to himself and use him for his foul purposes. He had no decency whatsoever, not that this was really news to Frank. If only he could go there and challenge him to a duel as his ancestors would have done. Man against man, this way they'd see who truly was the better wizard.
"Mr Longbottom, I understand that your angry but please sit down again."
Frank obeyed and muttered an apology. He really needed to avoid such outbursts from now on. She wasn't responsible for the things she told him.
"Please don't get me wrong, I don't want to badmouth your son. I'm sure he has the best intentions and really believes he's only helping his patients. Some things are easier to perceive from an outside perspective and I also know what's going on in the Death Eater prison camps from some of my patients. This is information the British witches and wizards don't have access to."
"What is going on there?" Frank asked. Gary Williamson had already told him about Neville's cooperation with the regime and also about his secret resistance. Maybe he did know more than Madam Neubert gave him credit for but Frank didn't blame her. She only told him what she knew.
"I'm not allowed to tell you because of confidentiality and some ministerial deals our people had to agree to so some of the political prisoners would be freed." There was a bitterness in her voice Frank hadn't heard before. "Let me tell you that much, they have good reason to be so keen on keeping this secret."
"Anyway, your son obviously doesn't see how burdening the situation his mother is finding herself in is," Healer Neubert said. "I suggested to him that he might try to arrange for her to emigrate as well but he wasn't interested in the idea. This makes a meeting difficult of course but I think there is a possibility. They are still extremely interested in information about my work. I could invite young Mr Longbottom and your wife here promising to tell them something after all. I would give him information which can't be abused even if he passes it on and you could meet in a secure setting here."
"You think I could meet her?" Frank wanted to see Alice again of course but the idea made him nervous at the same time. Alice probably wouldn't receive him happily after everything that had happened. Still, he needed to talk to her and make sure for himself that she was alright. At least something, no matter how she reacted to him.
"I'm not sure if they will allow it but if I use this trick they might," Madam Neubert said. "Do you wish me to try it?"
"Yes, of course," Frank said.
"Good, I'll write to your son then," Healer Neubert promised
Half an hour later, Frank was back at Cordelia's flat. The morning with Healer Neubert hadn't been as pointless as he had thought before. Frank hoped that she would really be able to arrange a meeting with Alice. At least he knew that she was alive and relatively free. He didn't have to find out about her at the Quidditch gathering even though he was looking forward to that. At least, she had been alright back when Neville had visited Germany.
He looked forward to finally meeting her again but at the same time, he was scared of her reaction and of the things she had endured while he had lived relatively comfortably. And he would finally get to know his son. If only Madam Neubert would be able to persuade them to come.
When Cordelia returned from work, the two of them went to the stadium of the Quidditch team Heidelberg Harriers. Outside of training, it could be used for amateur Quidditch training, an opportunity the British immigrants were making use of.
Frank and Cordelia were greeted by Gary Williamson. "I'm really glad you came, Frank," he said. "Nothing takes your mind off better than a good training session. You are going to fly aren't you?"
Frank hadn't been entirely sure about that yet. Being asked like this, he couldn't decline of course. Cordelia intended to fly as well. She hadn't made it into the Quidditch team back at Hogwarts but learned to like the sport now. Before they began, the guests introduced each other. The captain of the team was a young witch called Angelina Johnson. There were two other relatively young people called Cho Chang and Lee Jordan and an elderly couple. The Diggories didn't play themselves but they liked to watch.
"Our son used to be an excellent Quidditch player," Mr Diggory said. "He was murdered right after You-Know-Who returned to power. For being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We couldn't stay quiet in a land ruled by our son's killer."
"Of course not," Frank said. "I'm really sorry about your son."
Voldemort normally hadn't targeted children directly during the First War. He and his supporters hadn't felt above killing the children of enemy families if present and the attacks on public places had claimed victims of all ages but parents losing their child like that had been relatively rare. After being defeated by Harry Potter, he had obviously started to see them as a threat.
The others, a young man called Dean Thomas, his girlfriend Mandy Brocklehurst and the older Mr and Mrs Cattermole had fled Great Britain because of their Muggle-born status. Mary had helped the Order of the Phoenix during the first war but she had preferred to stay in the background. She had never been the fighting sort.
"Let's start the training now," Angelina said. "Come on, let's warm up."
Frank hadn't been on a broom for decades. He was slightly worried that he might make a fool of himself but as soon as he had left the ground, he realised that there was no reason to worry. You obviously didn't unlearn how to ride a broomstick. Frank had practically grown up doing this and the physical training he had been forced to undergo for the Muggle police had been helpful as well. His magic might still be weakened but his body was not.
During the warm-up, he remembered the visits to Black Manor so many years ago. Flying with the Black sisters with no thought of serious trouble between those families. Well, until Lord Voldemort had entered the stage. Frank's mother had seen right through him while Druella Black had not. Now, the pure-blood world they had spent their childhoods in had crumbled to dust and it wasn't the Muggle-borns fault, it was Voldemort's. Remembering young Bellatrix, Frank didn't doubt that she had truly believed she did the right thing to save her world. Maybe she had never noticed that she was in fact destroying it.
The fear of the "new" Muggle-borns in many on the non-Gryffindor pure-blood families had been huge. In the past, almost all Muggle-borns had after a short time been happy to escape the lives of poverty, hunger and illiteracy they had led before. The rejection by their own communities added to this. They had been happy to follow the wizarding families' lead and accept the new culture.
Nowadays, this wasn't true anymore. Most Muggle children were educated and encouraged to question things. They joined the magical community believing to know better even though there was much they didn't understand. Having lived among Muggles for many years, Frank could understand this in a way by now.
This behaviour had led to quite a few dangerous situations involving spells as well as magical creatures. Special education for Muggle-borns about things like the nature of magical beings, the limits of magic as well as detailed teachings about magical traditions and history could have easily solved this problem.
Albus Dumbledore had never been interested in providing this though. He had allowed the ghost Professor Binns bore everyone to death in History of Magic all through his time as a Headmaster and hadn't bothered to provide the Muggle-raised students with any of the other information either. They had been taught spells and potions instructions from books, nothing more. When talking to parents like Frank's mother, he had always claimed that "there was no difference" between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge that there was a difference. Pure-blood children could learn about magic from their families while Muggle-borns could not.
Angelina Johnson's voice forced Frank to concentrate on the sport once more. She shooed them around the pitch now and Frank was busy with the broom manoeuvres she asked them to do. He was very glad about the fact that he did really well. The youngsters were better of course but he could keep up with Gary and Cordelia. All three of them were better than the Cattermoles' who didn't seem to be overly athletic.
The actual training with the balls went well for Frank too. He played both Chaser like back at school and Keeper.
After two hours of fast flying, he returned to the ground, tired but happy. There would probably be some muscle ache the next day because he hadn't done much for a while now but Frank wasn't bothered by that. Sore muscles from sport were much better than phantom pain from the Cruciatus curse.
"Told you so," Gary said as they left the showers. "Nothing better than some flying. You're really good. Used to play at Hogwarts?"
"Yes. I used to be one of the Gryffindor chasers," Frank said.
"I played Keeper but only for one year," Gary said.
They made their way to the club restaurant where they had booked a large table. After a good training session, the food tasted a lot better.
When everyone had finished eating, Frank decided to ask the younger people about Neville. He assumed that at least some of them had to have been at Hogwarts with him.
"Did you ever meet my son, Neville, at Hogwarts? Did he play Quidditch as well?"
"We were in the same dorm," Dean said. "He's never played Quidditch though. He's mainly been interested in Herbology I think."
"Herbology?" Frank asked and Dean confirmed it. It probably wasn't that surprising. Neville had already loved to "help" Alice in the garden as a small child and she had encouraged it. "What was he like?"
"Well, he was quite shy actually," Dean said. "Had a bit of trouble with Professor Snape, the Potions teacher. Potions has always been his worst subject you see."
Well, this was probably part of the Longbottom genes but Frank would have preferred it if he hadn't inherited that of all things.
"How did he manage to become a Healer this way?" he wanted to know. They normally asked for a good Potions NEWT.
"I don't know about that," Dean said. "I couldn't return to Hogwarts during our seventh-year you see. They only took people with proven magical relatives. Maybe he got better though. He got better in lots of things with the DA and everything. Even Snape couldn't do anything against him in DADA."
Frank remembered the "DA" from Anthony Goldstein's speech. "So he was a member of the DA?"
"Yes, yes, he was one of the people who did most with Harry Potter. Fought Death Eaters both in his sixth and seventh year," Dean said. "And I think he's kept it up during his seventh year too. At least for a while. No idea why he gave up in the end and well, maybe he didn't really. It's hard to tell."
Frank felt a rush of pride for his son. He pretended to cooperate with the regime now but he had obviously tried to fight Voldemort as long as possible.
"Oh yes, he kept the resistance going at Hogwarts," Lee Jordan said. "Until it had been clear that they couldn't achieve anything that way. He didn't want to get other people into trouble I think. So he tried a different approach."
So Neville had been prepared to resist the Death Eaters for a while, Frank thought. But then, he had chosen to do something which allowed him to survive at the same time. Maybe understandable in a way.
Dean didn't seem to know much more about Neville or maybe he didn't want to talk about it.
Frank still thanked them for the information. Maybe he would learn more from Neville himself if Elke Neubert managed to arrange the meeting.