o-O-o
August 4th 1994
If the Ministry had buzzed with anticipation ahead of the July Wizengamot session, the run-up to the August session was twice as bad.
Rumours abounded that the Potter alliance was back; that the House of Black had started to sway the neutrals; that the pureblood alliance was on the verge of crumbling…
Augusta Longbottom was aware of the rumours and made sure to stoke the fire at every opportunity. A long dormant part of her had awakened with Sirius Black's ascent to his Lordship; a political animal she had half-forgotten in the wake of her grief and pain.
Nobody fully understood how devastated Augusta had been left after the attack on her son and daughter-in-law. She had been a relatively new widow; Gerald had died just after Frank's marriage. It had been a blow to Augusta who had loved him all her life. They'd tried for another child after Frank but their beautiful daughter had been stillborn and Augusta had never had the courage to try again. She had thrown herself into the role of the Lady Longbottom. Gerald had appreciated her political acumen and understanding; her sharp wit and intelligence. She hadn't been a Ravenclaw for no reason. Many of the policies and agendas Gerald had presented to the Wizengamot had been drafted by her hand.
And she had also thrown herself into motherhood; showering Frank with her attention and love. She had in all honesty probably spoiled him but he had been everything she could ever wish for in a son; handsome, charming, smart as a whip with an athletic build that had the girls swooning as soon as he had started dating. Nobody was ever going to be good enough for Frank but Alice's quiet charm and easy manner had convinced her of the girl's sincerity and Merlin knew Frank had loved her. Augusta wanted to say she hadn't been a dragon of a mother-in-law but it would be a lie; at least Alice had never held it against her.
Neville's birth had been a joy. Augusta had fallen in love with him as soon as Alice had placed him within her arms. He had been such a happy baby; so loved by Frank who adored his firstborn with the wide-eyed wonder of a new father. She could remember Frank playing with Neville, holding him to feed him when Alice went back to work (much to Augusta's disapproval), and singing him a lullaby just as Augusta had done for him. There was no doubt in her mind that Frank would have spoiled Neville as much as she had spoiled him if not for Alice's common sense.
And there had been a dream back then of lots of grandchildren…Frank had wanted to name Neville after his father but Augusta had asked him not to – Gerald had hated his name – but Alice had suggested for a second son that they might name him Charles Gerald after both his grandfathers. Augusta had dreamed again of a pretty baby girl to spoil silly.
Her dreams had been crushed by the LeStranges and Bartemius Crouch Junior in one horrific night.
Learning about the prophecy had been hard enough. Not that she had believed in that twaddle but Alice had taken it quite seriously and Frank had supported her when they'd gone into hiding. Augusta had been left alone with an empty mansion, not even knowing where they'd gone.
The night the Potters had died had been wonderful and terrible for Augusta. Wonderful in that it meant that the prophecy was about the Potter boy and not about Neville; that her family could come out of hiding and she would have her dreams still. Terrible that she had thought such a thing when two wonderful people had lost their lives.
James and Lily had been a lovely couple. Frank had always been close to James, the joke about being James's godbrother taken quite seriously because of the alliance between the Houses. His and Alice's decision to fight for custody of Harry Potter in the wake of their deaths hadn't surprised Augusta one bit and she had fully supported their decision. Maybe some of it had been to assuage her guilt (not Neville, thank Merlin, not Neville) but the idea that the heir to the Potter House would be brought up by muggles…
They should never have come out of hiding.
She could still remember the awful night. Apparating home from a dinner with friends to find the mansion filled with Aurors…Frank and Alice surrounded by healers…and Neville screaming terribly…fear in her belly that she would lose her family…that Frank and Alice would die like James and Lily (and the guilty remorse that maybe she had brought it upon them by being thankful it had been James who Voldemort had gone after and not her Frank)…
And then there had been the awful reality of brain damage, of a traumatised baby that had gone from that terrible screaming to simply not crying at all…and days and weeks of trips to healers and in the background always Neville slowly growing up but so different to Frank, and therefore such a disappointment that he should be Frank's legacy.
But now…
It was as though the events of the Summer had lifted the fog of grief from her mind and her heart. She could think clearly again. She could see clearly again. And what she saw first was Neville.
Her beautiful sweet grandson.
Augusta was so ashamed of herself. Had she really been such a harridan as to berate the boy for his lack of magical skill and prowess? To tell him constantly that he should be more like his father? Oh, she had hexed Gerald's Uncle Algie up one side and down the other when he dropped Neville out of a window but she had been secretly pleased to see the boy do accidental magic. What must Neville think of her?
She had resolved to turn over a new leaf. She had immediately offered him the opportunity to assume his Heir ring. She complimented Neville for small things; praised his gardening skill; admired him on his letter writing and behaviour during the various dinners and events they attended; encouraged him in building a friendship with Harry Potter.
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