Written for the HPFC Flower Language Challenge

Moss

Symbolises maternal love

The warmth of a hand pressed against her forehead, rousing her from her brief nap. Alice Longbottom opened her blue eyes slowly, focussing in on the face of her husband hovering above her. His smile was wide and his deep, brown eyes light with joy as he gazed upon her and she felt a thrill rush over her, as it always did when he looked at her like that.

As he sat beside her and took her hand, she felt the bed shift with his weight and adjusted herself to fit beside him. The small movement was exhausting and she closed her eyes for a moment and snuggled back against the pillows.

"Are you alright, Al?" Frank asked in concern, giving her hand a gently squeeze. She smiled and opened her eyes once more.

"I exhausted," she admitted, tiredly.

Frank bent to brush his lips softly against her forehead, and then down to her nose, placing gentle kisses all over her face.

"I'm so proud of you, love," he told her. "You were brilliant." He pulled back and rested his forehead against her, gazing down deeply at her. One of his hands stroked her cheek gently and she grasped it and kissed each of his fingers.

"I want to see my baby," she said firmly, though her voice still a little shaky from the labour. Frank nodded and went to the end of the bed, where a bundle of blankets lay huddled inside the bassinet. The expression of awe on his face as he gazed at his newborn son warmed Alice's heart and she felt tears welling in her eyes at the beautiful sight.

She held out her arms and Frank placed the infant gently between them. The baby was so tiny, with a completely bald head and a tiny, pink nose. Alice sniffed loudly as she gently cradled him to her chest and reached out to stroke his soft cheek.

"Hi, baby," she cooed. "My beautiful baby boy."

At her voice, the baby opened his dark brown eyes – Frank's eyes – and blinked blankly up at his mother. This was almost too much for Alice and she burst out into joyous sobs. The tears cascaded down her pale, flushed cheeks in an endless stream, but she was too overwhelmed to wipe them away.

It was remarkable to hold her newborn child in her arms. With the darkness of the current war surrounding them, Frank had been sceptical about raising a child in such a harsh environment. He was convinced that loving Alice was enough – if they had a child, it would mean another being to become attached to and he couldn't bear the thought of losing either of them. But Alice had persisted. She knew, in the back of her mind, that a child was just the sort of thing this world needed. Children brought hope and love and light into a world that was being consumed by hatred.

Gazing down upon her son, she knew he was destined for great things. He would be a great wizard, just like his father, and smart like his mother. He would be brave and strong and kind and loyal. Alice was absolutely positive. Lily was due any day now, and Alice had a feeling that her son and Lily's child would become great friends.

"Hey, little fella," Frank beamed, his voice thick with emotion, and he took the boy's tiny hand in his own. "Look at what we made, Alice. He's amazing."

Alice nodded tearfully, splattering droplets onto her dressing gown. "He's wonderful, Frank. And look, he has your eyes."

The baby turned his eyes on his father and Frank made a small noise, like he was holding back a sob.

"And your nose," he pointed out, giving her promptly on the nose. "We still have to name him."

Alice chewed on her lip as she thought. At first, when they were deciding names, they had been adamant that they were having a girl. They had tossed up between Beatrice, Fiona and Elizabeth, with Alice as the middle name. But they hadn't discussed boy's names. She gazed down at her little son and stroked his head gently as she thought. He was so perfect, so tiny, so soft; there was no name that could adequately describe him.

"We'll give him a name later," she told Frank through a yawn that had suddenly overwhelmed her. "Right now, I'd just like to get some sleep."

Frank nodded and moved to take the baby from Alice when she held him more defensively to her chest. "No, I want him to stay with me."

Chuckling lightly, Frank kissed his wife gently before planting one on his newborn son's forehead. He then went and plopped himself in the rocking chair sitting idle in the corner of the room and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet. Before he'd even turned the page, Alice had fallen into a deep sleep, caressing her little boy protectively in her arms.

...

"Neville..." Alice muttered, semi-conscious as she stirred after sleeping for four hours. Her eyes landed on Frank, who was still sitting in the rocking chair, the Prophet resting against his crossed knee. He smiled at her as she woke and put his paper down to join her.

"Did you have a good sleep, Al?" he asked gently, kissing her cheek. She nodded and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with her free hand.

"Neville," she repeated, a little more firmly this time.

Frank laughed. "Alice, darling, I know you're exhausted, but surely you can remember that my name is Frank."

She frowned at him and shook her head stubbornly. "No," she scolded. "Neville – for a name."

They both glanced down at their little boy, who was fast asleep in the bundle of blankets; his little eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open in a small 'o'. Frank considered the name for a moment, experimenting with how it sounded rolling off his tongue.

"Neville," he mused, before breaking out into a smile. "I like it. It kind of suits him."

Alice beamed. "Neville Frank Longbottom," she said fondly. "Welcome to the family."

Frank grinned and kissed Alice fiercely, as difficult as it was when she was cradling a baby.

"We did it, Al," he whispered against her mouth. "We did it."

She nodded and spared one last look at Neville. He was by far the most incredible thing she had ever seen in her life, and for a moment, she thought it was all a dream. Nothing this wonderful happened in the world anymore. Surely it must be a dream. But the warmth of Neville's small body and the feel of Frank's hand around hers assured her that it was very real, and she didn't want this moment to ever end. The two new parents remained in their master bedroom for quite a while, simply enjoy this moment alone as a family before the chaos of the world decided to rip them apart.

At that moment, Alice felt a strange, powerful connection to her son. She knew, no matter what happened, that she would always love him.

A/N: I wanted to chose something a little different for this prompt. Most people, when they think of maternal love, would think of Molly Weasley or Lily Potter. But what about poor Alice Longbottom? Even after being tortured to insanity by Bellatrix, she still gives her son those little sweet wrappers - a sign to Neville that she still loves him. It's possibly the saddest thing ever, and I wanted to express her love for Neville in their first moments together. Of course, Frank had to be featured, because he is the father and is just as overjoyed about Neville as Alice is.

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