For What It's Worth, Alice Longbottom, pg
Aug. 11th, 2005 07:22 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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femgenficathonTitle: For what It's Worth
Author: Selune /![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
erised1810
Rating: pg
prompt:
64. Of course I realized there was a measure of danger. Obviously I
faced the possibility of not returning when I first considered going.
Once faced and settled there really wasn't any good reason to refer to it
again. --Amelia Earhart (merely an indirect inspiration)
Summary: Neville will never realise how much of the lost memories he gives back to his mother every time he visits.
disclaimer/notes: Nothing invented by me, everything belongs to JKR.
Tanks to my betajackie_oh for the helpful comments and suggestions.
Alice stared in front of her, completely shocked. A one-year-old boy stared back at her on the bed.
"Now then, there he is," a soft voice whispered.
She had been angry with herself when she couldn't remember her child. She was disgusted by the way she had only shrugged when a Healer told her about him. This morning, when someone told her he was coming to visit them, she had merely raised her eyebrows.
She saw the man next to her look up, look from her, to the boy, to the Healer, then to the older woman who put a hand on the child's head.
Alice knew she should be used to it by now, should have accepted that no one in this room seemed familiar. Everyone acted as if they knew the both of them very well, however, and the first few nights here it made had her furious.
Alice looked at the child in her arms. The boy had blonde hair. His eyes were almost closed. Alice hoped they were blue like her own eyes.
He wore beautiful clothes too and Alice wondered who made them. She kissed the soft cheeks and smelled something sweet and flowery.
She heard soft little baby sounds, and something welled up in her stomach.
"Oh dear," she whispered softly. She knew that this was what she always said when she didn't know exactly what to do.
Alice felt sorry for the little boy. She knew her arms must feel awkward around him.” This is my son, she repeated in her head. This is my son, and who is that? She looked from the child to the tall, dark-haired man in the other bed.
That had to be someone she knew too. His eyes were closed too. The face looked familiar. Who was he? Her brother? Sometimes he hugged her too. She loved the scents that floated around him, the smell of clean sheets, of after shave and...and something else. All those scents, they were so familiar...so strangely comforting... It was probably why he stayed so close to her at night. It was perhaps why this little boy fell silent, in her arms and buried his face in the soft material of her nightgown. Something rushed through her head. She took a breath, wanted to say something, but when she opened her mouth it was gone.
The man in the other bed shifted. He looked at her questioningly, then he mumbled something and opened his arms.
"Oh of course dear," the older woman said. She took the boy away and gave him to the man, and only then did she sink into a deep chair next to the bed and burst into tears.
"Oh you two," she sobbed. "Oh poor, poor you."
Those words rang in Alice's head for the rest of the night, mixed with the frightened sounds coming from the little boy, and the sad look in his eyes when he was carried out of the room again. Alice hadn't said anything. She had hardly any idea why he was there. All she could do was wave and say good-bye and then they both opened their box of sweets and chewed some of the blowing gum. It was another of those strangely comforting things, just as familiar as the scents in this room, just as calming as the touch of that little hand when it had brushed her cheeks.
Did that little baby say "mummy" to her? How could he think she was his mother? Mothers don't treat their children like this.
For the rest of that night, Alice observed the man lying next to her. There had to be a reason why they were placed together in this room, why the older woman visited them with the baby. Who was that woman, though? She had talked to them as if she was their mother. She had even given them names, and she knew the name of their son too. How on earth did she know all this?
Alice tried to search her memory, but didn't find much. She took the man's hand and held on to it for support, until she fell asleep.
Time passed. Sometimes it felt like minutes, sometimes like an eternity. A five-year old boy tiptoed into the room. Alice thought she knew his name now, although she wasn't sure why. Her mind was clear for once though, and she was calmer than she'd been in days. They were sitting on three chairs, looking at the empty bed and the small table with teacups and cake. The boy held out his hands and they each took one. Alice was relieved to notice that it still felt familiar. She pinched the small hand and it made the boy smile. His feet were dangling from the high seat, his toes trying hard to reach the floor.
Yes, she'd grown to love this boy. She wanted to show it to him, but she couldn't. If this is her son though, she had of course loved him already. She had cared for him before all the certainty turned into questions, before her mind went blank for good. Alice found a gum wrapper on her night stand. She picked it up, looked at it and smiled. She put it into the small hand, and the boy laughed. Oh, that sound! It made something bubble up in her stomach, and moments later she knew she was laughing too! Although what she heard, sounded as if it was coming from someone else.
"Thank you, mummy," the boy called out,, "Thank you!" Alice felt two small lips brushing her cheek.
When the Healer took him away again, when he quietly tiptoed out of the room, she suddenly slid out of bed. She stumbled over some papers and clothes in hopes of finding the door. They couldn't take this child away from her. She wanted to talk with him, to play some more. She wanted to sing him to sleep. But she only made a startled sound and opened her arms as he stood in the doorway.
.Please," she heard herself say, Was that how her voice sounded? She hated her ears for choosing this moment to give her back what others apparently heard every day. Perhaps it helped if she said his name out loud, but what was he called? She took a deep breath again, hoping it would just fall from her mouth, but then a hand was on her shoulder and she only noticed her lips moving. Her voice was gone.
"Come," said a soft male voice. Alice turned around. It was the tall man from the bed next to hers.
He walked her back into the room. How could he be so calm? Alice was convinced she sounded as if she'd gone mad.
There had been a time when she would try to find answers. She was too scared to think right now, scared of the empty spaces, the black holes. There were clear moments sometimes, but they always turned into nightmares. Whenever a door slammed, they both sat up straight and looked frightened. It was all the proof Alice had that her husband felt exactly like she did. Yes, she knew that much now. A Healer told them that they were married. All the other proof she had of that was the ring she was wearing. No one knew how much of the memory came back to her for a few seconds when someone put it on her finger. She was glad enough for that. The only other thing she remembered was a bright white light behind her eyes, someone pointing a wand at her, and a man screaming meters away as if he had broken every bone in his body... Oh if that image could just be removed. Alice would gladly offer it if it meant she'd get the rest of her life back.
Her son visited every month, and it was a bright spot in their afternoon. It was better than the fresh cup of tea, better than the new sweets every week. He would sit on her lap every month, until he grew too big for that. From then on he played on the ground at their feet, showing them little figurines and plastic flowers.
"Daddy used to have a garden," he told them one day. "Granny says there's still some flowers in our backyard, and some plants he gave to her when I was small."
Plants...Frank...this man next to her was called Frank. Alice laughed at once, because she saw a strange sap splashing from a plant in a young boy's hand and it sprayed all over her. She sneezed, blinked, and put her hands in front of her face.
"Bubotuber!" Frank called out. The small boy burst out laughing.
"Of course not!" he laughed. "They're dangerous. These are just flowers and herbs. There are some plants for muggles too. Granny says I can help her take care of them."
"That's nice," said Frank, and he took the boy's hand and squeezed it.
"You'll take good care of them, won't you?" The boy bowed his head.
"Yes daddy," he said meekly. All Alice could do was smile at the man and take his other hand. Then a voice called from the doorway and they all got up. The boy hugged them both, then gathered his toys in a small box.
Alice and frank sat there,, smiling at each other. For some reason it seemed to Alice as if the smile was there ever since, all through the rest of the year.
Then, at once the boy forgot to come and only sent snippets of parchment with clumsy handwriting.
"Hogwarts," Alice mumbled. It only made Frank laugh. One night he even grinned.
"Quidditch," he cheered, and Alice realised he had more memories than she did She had a feeling some of the best memories of his youth were coming back to him whenever he read those letters. For her, it only helped a bit. It did as much as the stories of the Healers did to Frank. Whenever they told her something however, her mind stayed blank.
The boy came again that summer, and he had grown and was full of stories. Alice merely listened and smiled. She remembered Dumbledore. She remembered a hand on her shoulder, a strange grinning face that had only one eye, and a proud voice saying, "You'll make it one day. You're both going to be fantastic," or was that someone else?
Time went by and there were more and more scattered memories and realisations.
"We've got a new teacher again," Neville wrote. "He's called Lupin. He's fantastic, and he knows everything about Defence Against the Dark Arts. I really hope this one stays."
Oh goodness, Remus! Remus was teaching the kids. One of Frank's friends was helping her son.
"They'll be safe now, won't they?" she asked. But no one answered.
Neville still came every summer, and sometimes he visited in the winter. Alice started to listen to the sounds outside the room. More and more names floated into her room. Sirius Black, Crouch, Harry Potter. Then there was the other man on their ward scrutinizing the faces in a large photograph. It was the first time in years that she'd seen a copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Well, well, well," said the man. "What have we got here, an official meeting?"
Before she knew it, she gasped and rushed forward to tear the paper out of his hands. The man only made a sound of disapproval and Frank cleared his throat. There they were, ten sneering faces. Ten gaunt looking people, three of whom looked far to familiar.
"Oh dear," Alice whispered, and her eyes began to water. "Oh no..."
She hardly noticed what happened next. Someone snatches the paper away. A harsh voice called out, dhow dare they have something like this just laying around here!"
Alice shivered. Her husband shifted in his bed and cleared his throat again. When the door finally closed, he turned over again and searched for her hand.
"This is not good," he whispered, "not good at all."
The next time her son walked into the room she held him close for what seemed like half an hour and they hardly said a word. There were no thoughts, no strange images.
As soon as he left, however, the nightmares from years ago were back again. She heard more names, she started recognizing faces. She told the Healers stories when they came in with trays of breakfast. Frank listened to her as well. Sometimes he started to cry at night, and she'd climb into his bed just to cuddle him and soothe him to sleep.
Then at last, there were balloons floating in the doorway. A boy stepped in with a wide grin on his face.
"Happy birthday Neville," Frank called out. Alice smiled. A Healer walked past Neville.
"Well my friends," she said cheerfully, "we have a room for all of you. There's tea and cake, and music if you want to."
"Oh yes, yes," Alice muttered. She walked, she really walked and she held Neville's hand. It was a soft hand, but it had some scrapes, and some of the fingers had little red blisters.
"How's the garden?" she asked out of nowhere, and Neville laughed.
"I've got more dangerous plants now," he said with a grin. "I've got tons of books about them as well. Professor Sprout is fantastic! When I leave Hogwarts, I'll probably miss the greenhouses most."
Alice smiled absently as she played with the fingers of the hand she was holding. She knew she'd held a hand like this-one before, when she was sixteen or seventeen herself.
Frank walked in front of them and looked over his shoulder every now and then. As they entered the carpeted room they immediately walked to a sofa.
"Fantastic!" Neville called out, and he sat down with a content sigh. His grandmother beamed at all of them.
"Tea?" she asked. The door closed. There was only one Healer with them, and no one else could be heard other than the people inside the room. Someone waved a wand and Alice heard music, soft tinkling music.
"Oh good heavens," the Healer muttered, looking rather embarrassed. "I'm sorry, the children's hour."
"We'll try to find something else," said Neville's grandmother, but Frank first shook his head, then cried out "No!"
"You want to hear this?" the healer asked slowly.
"Oh let them," Neville said with a grin. There was a strange twinkle in his eyes as he sat in between his parents. He nibbled on a piece of cake, then licked the index finger of his left hand. Alice dipped her nose in the whipped cream. Frank laughed.
When they had finished eating and the Healer walked out of the room again with the tray, they sat back and listened to an old familiar voice singing a song, telling some rhymes and stories, playing some soft music...and suddenly time turned sixteen years back.
Alice looked from her husband to the boy sitting in between them, observed the two faces. Neville had his father's eyes. Many other features were perhaps more like her own, but his eyes, his voice, his laughter, his hands, this was what Frank was like when they still lived in a house together.
Alice heard the story again about the mermaids in the lake, about the forest full of faeries, and then she put her arms around Neville. She felt his head on her shoulder. A warmth came over her, something she hadn't felt in so many years.
She started to hum something, and Neville buried his nose in the soft material of her dress. He sniffed, he sighed contently. He nestled in her arms and she laughed.
"Little Neville," she cooed softly. "Sweet little Neville."
Frank laughed quietly. He looked at his hands, then moved away a bit and looked at the crumbs on his robes.
"Lovely little Neville baby," Alice whispered. She kissed the top of his head, and all the odd little words fall from her mouth, all the little words she hasn't said for more than fifteen years.
Finally Neville lifted his head and she saw tears trickle down his face.
"Mum?" he whispered. His voice sounded hoarse. It sounded different from what she'd expected, but of course, he wasn't her baby any more. He was of age now. He was seventeen. But oh, how she'd missed this! How she wished she had known how to do this before.
"Dad?" said Neville from his place in his mother's arms. Frank mumbled something and nodded. Then he laughed.
"It's alright," he said at once, "we'll be alright. Just a few more nights of sleep and then..."
Alice almost choked on her own words. She suddenly realized that this was exactly what he said when they first woke up here.
"It's only the radio," Frank mumbled, and he sounded rather sad.
"Yes, it's just the radio," Alice sighed. "No don't turn it off, please! I think...I believe..."
I think I found the answers, she thought, and I don't want the sweets any more either. She felt happy at once, and hugged her son once more. This is my son, she thought, and finally she knew how it felt to have him here. Everything else was forgotten, left behind in her bed, on her pillow in the dim room. Perhaps it had flown out of the window for good.
Alice felt rather shocked again. To think that all the puzzles could only fall together once someone happened to listen to the good old children's our. To have The Wizarding Wireless help her find the last few bits. She was about to ask for a quill and send her first owl in twenty years.
That night, they took one last bite of bubblegum, and she heard two loud pops before she fell into a sleep without nightmares.
Author: Selune /
erised1810Rating: pg
prompt:
64. Of course I realized there was a measure of danger. Obviously I
faced the possibility of not returning when I first considered going.
Once faced and settled there really wasn't any good reason to refer to it
again. --Amelia Earhart (merely an indirect inspiration)
Summary: Neville will never realise how much of the lost memories he gives back to his mother every time he visits.
disclaimer/notes: Nothing invented by me, everything belongs to JKR.
Tanks to my beta
jackie_oh for the helpful comments and suggestions.Alice stared in front of her, completely shocked. A one-year-old boy stared back at her on the bed.
"Now then, there he is," a soft voice whispered.
She had been angry with herself when she couldn't remember her child. She was disgusted by the way she had only shrugged when a Healer told her about him. This morning, when someone told her he was coming to visit them, she had merely raised her eyebrows.
She saw the man next to her look up, look from her, to the boy, to the Healer, then to the older woman who put a hand on the child's head.
Alice knew she should be used to it by now, should have accepted that no one in this room seemed familiar. Everyone acted as if they knew the both of them very well, however, and the first few nights here it made had her furious.
Alice looked at the child in her arms. The boy had blonde hair. His eyes were almost closed. Alice hoped they were blue like her own eyes.
He wore beautiful clothes too and Alice wondered who made them. She kissed the soft cheeks and smelled something sweet and flowery.
She heard soft little baby sounds, and something welled up in her stomach.
"Oh dear," she whispered softly. She knew that this was what she always said when she didn't know exactly what to do.
Alice felt sorry for the little boy. She knew her arms must feel awkward around him.” This is my son, she repeated in her head. This is my son, and who is that? She looked from the child to the tall, dark-haired man in the other bed.
That had to be someone she knew too. His eyes were closed too. The face looked familiar. Who was he? Her brother? Sometimes he hugged her too. She loved the scents that floated around him, the smell of clean sheets, of after shave and...and something else. All those scents, they were so familiar...so strangely comforting... It was probably why he stayed so close to her at night. It was perhaps why this little boy fell silent, in her arms and buried his face in the soft material of her nightgown. Something rushed through her head. She took a breath, wanted to say something, but when she opened her mouth it was gone.
The man in the other bed shifted. He looked at her questioningly, then he mumbled something and opened his arms.
"Oh of course dear," the older woman said. She took the boy away and gave him to the man, and only then did she sink into a deep chair next to the bed and burst into tears.
"Oh you two," she sobbed. "Oh poor, poor you."
Those words rang in Alice's head for the rest of the night, mixed with the frightened sounds coming from the little boy, and the sad look in his eyes when he was carried out of the room again. Alice hadn't said anything. She had hardly any idea why he was there. All she could do was wave and say good-bye and then they both opened their box of sweets and chewed some of the blowing gum. It was another of those strangely comforting things, just as familiar as the scents in this room, just as calming as the touch of that little hand when it had brushed her cheeks.
Did that little baby say "mummy" to her? How could he think she was his mother? Mothers don't treat their children like this.
For the rest of that night, Alice observed the man lying next to her. There had to be a reason why they were placed together in this room, why the older woman visited them with the baby. Who was that woman, though? She had talked to them as if she was their mother. She had even given them names, and she knew the name of their son too. How on earth did she know all this?
Alice tried to search her memory, but didn't find much. She took the man's hand and held on to it for support, until she fell asleep.
Time passed. Sometimes it felt like minutes, sometimes like an eternity. A five-year old boy tiptoed into the room. Alice thought she knew his name now, although she wasn't sure why. Her mind was clear for once though, and she was calmer than she'd been in days. They were sitting on three chairs, looking at the empty bed and the small table with teacups and cake. The boy held out his hands and they each took one. Alice was relieved to notice that it still felt familiar. She pinched the small hand and it made the boy smile. His feet were dangling from the high seat, his toes trying hard to reach the floor.
Yes, she'd grown to love this boy. She wanted to show it to him, but she couldn't. If this is her son though, she had of course loved him already. She had cared for him before all the certainty turned into questions, before her mind went blank for good. Alice found a gum wrapper on her night stand. She picked it up, looked at it and smiled. She put it into the small hand, and the boy laughed. Oh, that sound! It made something bubble up in her stomach, and moments later she knew she was laughing too! Although what she heard, sounded as if it was coming from someone else.
"Thank you, mummy," the boy called out,, "Thank you!" Alice felt two small lips brushing her cheek.
When the Healer took him away again, when he quietly tiptoed out of the room, she suddenly slid out of bed. She stumbled over some papers and clothes in hopes of finding the door. They couldn't take this child away from her. She wanted to talk with him, to play some more. She wanted to sing him to sleep. But she only made a startled sound and opened her arms as he stood in the doorway.
.Please," she heard herself say, Was that how her voice sounded? She hated her ears for choosing this moment to give her back what others apparently heard every day. Perhaps it helped if she said his name out loud, but what was he called? She took a deep breath again, hoping it would just fall from her mouth, but then a hand was on her shoulder and she only noticed her lips moving. Her voice was gone.
"Come," said a soft male voice. Alice turned around. It was the tall man from the bed next to hers.
He walked her back into the room. How could he be so calm? Alice was convinced she sounded as if she'd gone mad.
There had been a time when she would try to find answers. She was too scared to think right now, scared of the empty spaces, the black holes. There were clear moments sometimes, but they always turned into nightmares. Whenever a door slammed, they both sat up straight and looked frightened. It was all the proof Alice had that her husband felt exactly like she did. Yes, she knew that much now. A Healer told them that they were married. All the other proof she had of that was the ring she was wearing. No one knew how much of the memory came back to her for a few seconds when someone put it on her finger. She was glad enough for that. The only other thing she remembered was a bright white light behind her eyes, someone pointing a wand at her, and a man screaming meters away as if he had broken every bone in his body... Oh if that image could just be removed. Alice would gladly offer it if it meant she'd get the rest of her life back.
Her son visited every month, and it was a bright spot in their afternoon. It was better than the fresh cup of tea, better than the new sweets every week. He would sit on her lap every month, until he grew too big for that. From then on he played on the ground at their feet, showing them little figurines and plastic flowers.
"Daddy used to have a garden," he told them one day. "Granny says there's still some flowers in our backyard, and some plants he gave to her when I was small."
Plants...Frank...this man next to her was called Frank. Alice laughed at once, because she saw a strange sap splashing from a plant in a young boy's hand and it sprayed all over her. She sneezed, blinked, and put her hands in front of her face.
"Bubotuber!" Frank called out. The small boy burst out laughing.
"Of course not!" he laughed. "They're dangerous. These are just flowers and herbs. There are some plants for muggles too. Granny says I can help her take care of them."
"That's nice," said Frank, and he took the boy's hand and squeezed it.
"You'll take good care of them, won't you?" The boy bowed his head.
"Yes daddy," he said meekly. All Alice could do was smile at the man and take his other hand. Then a voice called from the doorway and they all got up. The boy hugged them both, then gathered his toys in a small box.
Alice and frank sat there,, smiling at each other. For some reason it seemed to Alice as if the smile was there ever since, all through the rest of the year.
Then, at once the boy forgot to come and only sent snippets of parchment with clumsy handwriting.
"Hogwarts," Alice mumbled. It only made Frank laugh. One night he even grinned.
"Quidditch," he cheered, and Alice realised he had more memories than she did She had a feeling some of the best memories of his youth were coming back to him whenever he read those letters. For her, it only helped a bit. It did as much as the stories of the Healers did to Frank. Whenever they told her something however, her mind stayed blank.
The boy came again that summer, and he had grown and was full of stories. Alice merely listened and smiled. She remembered Dumbledore. She remembered a hand on her shoulder, a strange grinning face that had only one eye, and a proud voice saying, "You'll make it one day. You're both going to be fantastic," or was that someone else?
Time went by and there were more and more scattered memories and realisations.
"We've got a new teacher again," Neville wrote. "He's called Lupin. He's fantastic, and he knows everything about Defence Against the Dark Arts. I really hope this one stays."
Oh goodness, Remus! Remus was teaching the kids. One of Frank's friends was helping her son.
"They'll be safe now, won't they?" she asked. But no one answered.
Neville still came every summer, and sometimes he visited in the winter. Alice started to listen to the sounds outside the room. More and more names floated into her room. Sirius Black, Crouch, Harry Potter. Then there was the other man on their ward scrutinizing the faces in a large photograph. It was the first time in years that she'd seen a copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Well, well, well," said the man. "What have we got here, an official meeting?"
Before she knew it, she gasped and rushed forward to tear the paper out of his hands. The man only made a sound of disapproval and Frank cleared his throat. There they were, ten sneering faces. Ten gaunt looking people, three of whom looked far to familiar.
"Oh dear," Alice whispered, and her eyes began to water. "Oh no..."
She hardly noticed what happened next. Someone snatches the paper away. A harsh voice called out, dhow dare they have something like this just laying around here!"
Alice shivered. Her husband shifted in his bed and cleared his throat again. When the door finally closed, he turned over again and searched for her hand.
"This is not good," he whispered, "not good at all."
The next time her son walked into the room she held him close for what seemed like half an hour and they hardly said a word. There were no thoughts, no strange images.
As soon as he left, however, the nightmares from years ago were back again. She heard more names, she started recognizing faces. She told the Healers stories when they came in with trays of breakfast. Frank listened to her as well. Sometimes he started to cry at night, and she'd climb into his bed just to cuddle him and soothe him to sleep.
Then at last, there were balloons floating in the doorway. A boy stepped in with a wide grin on his face.
"Happy birthday Neville," Frank called out. Alice smiled. A Healer walked past Neville.
"Well my friends," she said cheerfully, "we have a room for all of you. There's tea and cake, and music if you want to."
"Oh yes, yes," Alice muttered. She walked, she really walked and she held Neville's hand. It was a soft hand, but it had some scrapes, and some of the fingers had little red blisters.
"How's the garden?" she asked out of nowhere, and Neville laughed.
"I've got more dangerous plants now," he said with a grin. "I've got tons of books about them as well. Professor Sprout is fantastic! When I leave Hogwarts, I'll probably miss the greenhouses most."
Alice smiled absently as she played with the fingers of the hand she was holding. She knew she'd held a hand like this-one before, when she was sixteen or seventeen herself.
Frank walked in front of them and looked over his shoulder every now and then. As they entered the carpeted room they immediately walked to a sofa.
"Fantastic!" Neville called out, and he sat down with a content sigh. His grandmother beamed at all of them.
"Tea?" she asked. The door closed. There was only one Healer with them, and no one else could be heard other than the people inside the room. Someone waved a wand and Alice heard music, soft tinkling music.
"Oh good heavens," the Healer muttered, looking rather embarrassed. "I'm sorry, the children's hour."
"We'll try to find something else," said Neville's grandmother, but Frank first shook his head, then cried out "No!"
"You want to hear this?" the healer asked slowly.
"Oh let them," Neville said with a grin. There was a strange twinkle in his eyes as he sat in between his parents. He nibbled on a piece of cake, then licked the index finger of his left hand. Alice dipped her nose in the whipped cream. Frank laughed.
When they had finished eating and the Healer walked out of the room again with the tray, they sat back and listened to an old familiar voice singing a song, telling some rhymes and stories, playing some soft music...and suddenly time turned sixteen years back.
Alice looked from her husband to the boy sitting in between them, observed the two faces. Neville had his father's eyes. Many other features were perhaps more like her own, but his eyes, his voice, his laughter, his hands, this was what Frank was like when they still lived in a house together.
Alice heard the story again about the mermaids in the lake, about the forest full of faeries, and then she put her arms around Neville. She felt his head on her shoulder. A warmth came over her, something she hadn't felt in so many years.
She started to hum something, and Neville buried his nose in the soft material of her dress. He sniffed, he sighed contently. He nestled in her arms and she laughed.
"Little Neville," she cooed softly. "Sweet little Neville."
Frank laughed quietly. He looked at his hands, then moved away a bit and looked at the crumbs on his robes.
"Lovely little Neville baby," Alice whispered. She kissed the top of his head, and all the odd little words fall from her mouth, all the little words she hasn't said for more than fifteen years.
Finally Neville lifted his head and she saw tears trickle down his face.
"Mum?" he whispered. His voice sounded hoarse. It sounded different from what she'd expected, but of course, he wasn't her baby any more. He was of age now. He was seventeen. But oh, how she'd missed this! How she wished she had known how to do this before.
"Dad?" said Neville from his place in his mother's arms. Frank mumbled something and nodded. Then he laughed.
"It's alright," he said at once, "we'll be alright. Just a few more nights of sleep and then..."
Alice almost choked on her own words. She suddenly realized that this was exactly what he said when they first woke up here.
"It's only the radio," Frank mumbled, and he sounded rather sad.
"Yes, it's just the radio," Alice sighed. "No don't turn it off, please! I think...I believe..."
I think I found the answers, she thought, and I don't want the sweets any more either. She felt happy at once, and hugged her son once more. This is my son, she thought, and finally she knew how it felt to have him here. Everything else was forgotten, left behind in her bed, on her pillow in the dim room. Perhaps it had flown out of the window for good.
Alice felt rather shocked again. To think that all the puzzles could only fall together once someone happened to listen to the good old children's our. To have The Wizarding Wireless help her find the last few bits. She was about to ask for a quill and send her first owl in twenty years.
That night, they took one last bite of bubblegum, and she heard two loud pops before she fell into a sleep without nightmares.
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Date: 2005-08-11 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-11 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-08-12 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 07:41 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-08-12 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-12 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-16 02:59 am (UTC)I haven't seen many stories about Alice and Frank; this is by far my favorite.
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Date: 2005-08-16 07:03 am (UTC)that's more tha no uproalby wanted to know but Ifele yo udisere this aftery ougotthis effect out of it. that ws a beautifu ldescriptio nby the way.