Neville Longbottom: The boy who lived

Harry and Neville

Albus Dumbledore always seemed to know things before anyone else; to guess (and was rarely wrong) what the future may bring. Few had asked him if he had seer blood, but they were always turned down with a chuckle and a look over the top of a certain pair of half-moon specticals.

With this in mind, Professor McGonagall knew exactly who to go to when wild rumours started flying around her door. With a small pop, the tabby cat which was sat on the wall of Privet Drive, turned into the transfiguration teacher and disappeared. All day McGonagall had seen wizards celebrating, and she disapproved of the carelessness of these witches and wizards around Muggles, 'are these people trying to get us exposed, or what?!'.

When McGonagall appeared again, it was on the end of an old wizarding street that she knew Augusta Longbottom lived in. Looking around, she quickly spotted a solemn Albus Dumbledore, which made dread rise in her chest. If he was here then that would mean...

"Ah, Minerva." Dumbledore nodded towards her once he spotted her coming.
"Albus, the rumours? Are they true? I mean, Frank and Alice, it can't be. Can it?" Dumbledore's expression didn't change and he said no encouraging words, "Oh Merlin!" McGonagall gasped, "What about the boy?"
"Ah," Dumbledore smiled, "the boy. I was wondering when we'd get to that. Yes Minerva, the rumours are true. Little Neville has survived. The boy has rid us of Voldemort."
"But what's going to happen to him?"
"He is coming here." Dumbledore answered, "I would rather have him to live in the Muggle world, but, as it is, he needs to come here. I have owled Augusta and told her the situation, I bet she'll need time to recover from the shock of her only son and his wife's death, so I have asked her to come by the Potters' place tomorrow, as I'm sure James and Lily will be delighted to look after Neville until Augusta can come to collect him."
Minerva smiled fondly at Dumbledore's words. She'd always had a soft spot for those boys, however many times they got themselves in detention. And Lily was - well Lily was Lily not a person alive couldn't like Lily, well maybe with the exception of her sister.

▪▪▪

Sirius Black, Lily Potter and Remus Lupin were sat on the sofa, enjoying the peace. None of them had had much sleep last night, as the two baby boys kept crying in the early hours. Finally, both were fast asleep now which left the three adults to have some well earned peace and quiet.
Remus sighed, "How do you and James manage?" Lily looked down when James' name was mentioned. Remus looked up to Sirius for help. James Potter had been gone for four days now, on a task the head of Aurors had given him.
"Have you heard anything on him?" Sirius asked hopefully
"No, still nothing." Lily was looking ill. She had bags under her eyes and she looked like she hadn't slept for days.
An awkward silence lay heavily over the three, all of them hoping for an excuse to leave the room. Finally, a cry echoed through the house. Glad, for once, of his werewolf abilities, Remus reacted first. He jumped up from the sofa and hurried out of the room to see which baby was crying now.

Lily was about to go to help ('men just don't understand how to calm a baby!'), when a loud knock pierced the baby's wails. Swiftly, she walked up the corridor towards the front door and opened it, Sirius lingering behind her.

In the doorway stood an old lady, carrying a red handbag.

"Augusta!" Lily covered her concern for her husband, knowing that at least he was had the chance of being alive. Augusta's family was definitely gone. All except Neville. "please come in."

"Lily m'girl," came the reply, "keep strong love, he'll be fine." Seeing Lily's surprised expression, she chuckled, "an old lady's tricks, my love. An old lady always knows."
Augusta Longbottom stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were slightly red, but she was just as strong as ever. Sirius smiled softly; he knew that the joy of her grandson having survived would be enough to keep her going, she always was a positive soul.
"I suppose you want to see him?" Sirius asked her, leading her into the bedroom that the two cots were sat in, giving Lily a chance to leave them if she wanted. She did. When they entered, Remus was sat on the bed in a shadow, trying to calm down a baby, who was crying into his chest.
He looked up, and saw Sirius and Augusta enter, "This is Neville, do you want to take him?" Both Sirius and Augusta laughed, seeing Remus' attempt to get the crying baby out of his arms.
Sirius tilted his head to the side, before taking the crying baby and placing him in Augusta's arms. Immediately the baby stopped crying.
"Hewwo Neville. How's my favourite grandson?" Augusta brushed Neville's hair away from his head, "And I see someone has a nice little scar to mark their bravery, huh?" Baby Neville giggled softly, before snuggling up to his grandma, and falling asleep. Augusta placed him back in his cot and sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, watching the two men, curiously. They were sat side by side whispering. Remus sighed and lent back slightly, which made the light from the window shine across his face.
"Remus?" Augusta asked concerned, "What on Earth has happened to you?" Fresh cuts covered Remus' face, and he looked thin. Too thin.
"It was full moon last night," Remus sighed, "and I missed one of the potions."
"Dear, can I do anything? I have some dittany here."
"Thanks, but I'll be fine."
Sirius looked over at the old lady, "I've tried, but my friend is too stubborn for his own good"

▪▪▪

Sirius Black lay on the sofa. He had been coming over to Godric's Hollow as often as he could to help Lily, but he couldn't say it wasn't hard. These moments of relaxation were rare. Very rare. He shut his eyes, enjoying the peace.
"Siwius! Siwius!" Sirius sighed, as his two year old godson came running into the room.
"What is it Harry?"
Harry dragged his godfather off the sofa, "Siwius! Mummy and Daddy!" Surprised, Sirius looked down at Harry. Lily had gone out earlier that day, but James hadn't been seen since he went off for the Auror department, to do some research on dark magic in Bulgaria. He was due to have been back months ago. Sirius missed his best friend more than anything else. As often as he dropped in to help Lily, it just wasn't the same.
"What about them Harry?"
"Wemus sais they're coming home today!"
"What?" Sirius was fully awake now.
"Mummy and Da-" Harry was cut off by the front door slamming open. Sirius drew his wand but before he could think of a spell, someone was hugging him. Someone with black messy hair.
"I - what - James?" Sirius stammered.
The man let go of him, but smaller arms hugged around his knees. He placed a hand on Harry's head before bending down to pick Harry up.
"Thank you. Thank you Sirius. We couldn't have chosen a better godfather for him." Before him stood James Potter. The real James Potter. Sirius wondered if he was dreaming. His friend was thin, pale and looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks.
He turned to the beaming redhead, "Lily? But - but I - why didn't you tell me where you were going?"
"Padfoot?" James said, "Are sure your little brain could have coped waiting without doing something incredibly stupid?"
"I missed you Prongs."
"Dadda?"
"Harry! Wow! You've grown ya little squirt, haven't ya!"

▪▪▪

Neville Longbottom. Not a witch or wizard alive didn't know his name. Neville Longbottom. The wizard who rid the world of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This is how the world saw him.

But this is how his Grandmother saw him. Neville Longbottom. The boy scared of the dark. Neville Longbottom. A poor orphan, constantly reminded of his losses. Neville Longbottom. The boy scarred for life. Neville Longbottom. Hers. Her Grandson. Her son's brave, brave boy.

The two year old boy clung onto the bed covers, shaking. "Granna- GRANNNNAAAAA!"
The boys grandma came quickly into the room, "I'm here, Nevvie , I'm here."
"There was a green light!" He squealed. "and a giant on a motorcycle... I'm scared Granna-."
"Hush, my child. I'll explain when you're ready, OK?"

When Neville's grandmother deemed him to be 'ready', he was eight years old. Being the kind generous soul he was, Neville never took it too hard that his Grandmother had never told him of this before, but crawled up onto her lap and wiped away her tears.