Fic: No Neville, No Cry Title: No Neville, No Cry Author: Foodie foodie Summary: Neville visits his parents at St. Mungo's a final time before joining in the war effort. Rating: PG Characters/Pairing: Neville, Frank, and Alice Longbottom Word Count: 743 Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, they are owned by JK Rowling. A/N: The title is taken from the Bob Marley song, No Woman, No Cry. This was written before DH was released.
Neville sat in the curtained off area of St. Mungo’s hospital that his parents lived in. For as long as he could remember, his parents had been here. He’d heard stories from his family about what they had been like before…He’d always wished that he could have seen his mother and father when they’d been normal. As a young boy he used to fantasize about going back in time and visiting them, having regular conversations with them, and receiving the comfort that a parent gives to a child. He’d never had any of that, and as he sat on the chair looking at his mother, he knew he never would.
Alice Longbottom walked over to the boy who visited often, and sat down next to him. She brushed her hands through his blonde hair, and smiled. “Pretty boy,” she said simply. She gazed deeply into Neville’s eyes, as though trying to remember something that she couldn’t quite grasp. Finally, she tilted her head and pointed to herself. “My boy?” she asked.
Neville’s eyes filled with tears, as he nodded his head. “Yes,” he gasped, “your boy.” He hung his head and let the tears fall. It was always so difficult when his mother had a moment of realization of who she was, or who he was, for by the time the next moment arrived, it would have passed, and she’d have forgotten again. He hated the thought of his parents forgetting who he was, and never getting to see him again. But with the way the war was going lately…He had to be realistic about it, which was why he’d chosen to visit his parents that day.
“I wanted to tell you and dad, that I’ve decided something important,” he said while turning to look at his father. Frank watched his son with a blank look on his face. “I’ve decided not to return to Hogwarts next year. I’m going to join in the fight. I don’t know if I can do anything to help, but I think I have to try. I have this feeling inside me that I’m supposed to.”
Frank and Alice smiled and nodded their heads, clearly not understanding anything that was being said. Neville sighed and looked at the floor. “I’m going to fight for you both, since you can’t do it anymore. I owe you that much,” he whispered. “I just hope I get to come back after the war ends, and see you again. But if I don’t…I wanted to tell you now that I am so proud to be your son. I love you both so much.” Tears began to fall once again as Neville spoke. He was terrified to join in the fight, but he couldn’t sit back and let the world fall apart around him without trying to help stop it. He might not succeed, he might not even survive, but he knew he had to try.
Neville stood up and walked to his father. He slowly embraced the frail older man, and tried to still his tears. “I love you dad,” he said before kissing his father’s cheek. He closed his eyes and enjoyed a moment of comfort to feel Frank’s arms close over his shoulders and pull him into a mutual embrace.
After several minutes, Neville released his father and stood up to walk over to Alice. “I love you mum,” he said before repeating the same actions he’d taken with his father. His mum hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek in return.
Alice sat up and looked at her son again. She frowned and reached out to wipe away his tears. “No cry,” she said. “No sad.”
Neville took several deep breaths before shaking his head and standing up. “No sad,” he repeated while squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw determinedly. “No cry.” With that, he waved farewell to his parents, for what could possibly be the last time.
The strength that had kept his parents from breaking under the pressure and pain of torture ran through his veins. It was a strength he would need to draw from if he wanted to make it through the war alive. At that moment, he could feel it coursing through his body, making his steps strong and certain as he walked out of the hospital and out onto the streets of London.
With his head held high, Neville Longbottom walked away from his painful past, and towards his uncertain future.