#I’ve never really understood when people make frank and Alice the same age as Lily and James | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aprilsrant · 4 years ago

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Be brave, little wizard.

PAIRING: Neville Longbottom x Aunt!Reader (platonic, of course) | Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) and Alice have been best friends since they were kids, way before Hogwarts. After everythin that happened to her and Frank, (Y/N) is the one that takes care of Neville.

WORD COUNT: 2,9k

WARNINGS: pretty sad, angst, character death, change of canon (big detail but i think it was necessary), mentions of Neville’s parents being tortured, reader kills someone, ups. If there are more and there aren’t here, please tell me.

A/N: This took me ages to even start and I’m really sorry, but now that’s here I feel so proud of it. This has to be the fic of my own that I love the most even if I broke my own heart while writing it. The end is kind of rush because it was almost 3am, sorry.

English is not my first language.

MASTERLIST | WORK IN PROGRESS.

Gif below is not mine.

One could never find Alice Fortescue and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) far away from one another, one of them would always follow the other. Both girls became joined by the hip after a particularly hot day in July when (Y/N) and her family visited the Ice Cream Parlour on Diagon Alley, owned by Alice’s uncle, Florean.

After that, Alice and (Y/N) did everything together meaning it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that their friendship only grew stronger on their days at Hogwarts. They had their fair share of fights of course, people always do, whether the matter is relevant or silly, but they knew better: arguments happen and proving your point might be important, but friendships hold more value than being right.

Although the Wizarding World was turning more dark and dangerous with every passing second because of Voldemort’s hunger for power and his ruthless Death Eaters hunting down muggleborns and what they liked to call blood traitors, Alice and (Y/N) still tried to find joy and happiness in the littlest of things, exciting over Alice and Frank’s wedding, daydreaming about the day they could get a proper and big ceremony, instead of a small gathering with the closest of friends and family members.

On July, 30th of 1980, (Y/N) understood what Alice was to her. The girl with the plump, always happy looking face was, not only her closest confidant, but her sister as well. They may not have been related by blood, yet they loved each other like family. Thick as thieves, as the muggles would say.

(Y/N) had barely sat in the brown, ugly chair beside her best friend’s hospital bed, with her newborn boy asleep and unaware of the silent tears running through both of the girl’s cheeks, when Alice confided.

“We want you to be Neville’s Godmother.”

Her eyes stopped looking at the baby boy tucked in her arms to glance towards Alice’s direction, who was now being hugged from behind by Frank, both of them with large grins on their faces and reassuring expressions.

“M-Me?”

“Well, of course you, (Y/N)!,” exclaimed Frank before letting go of Alice for a second and getting shushed by both of them to keep him from disturbing Neville, “you are practically Alice’s sister after so many years of friendship,” he continued, now in a more quiet voice.

“He’s right, you are my sister and I can’t think of anyone else being better than you as his godmother.”

Several hours later, Harry Potter, son of Lily Evans and James Potter, was born. (Y/N) had gone to their room a day after to deliver her congratulations along with the ones from Alice and Frank, encountering Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew hunched down over the crib in which Harry was sleeping peacefully, staring at his small frame and his tiny chest barely rising with every breath.

None of them imagined how fast things could change for the worse.

(Y/N) knew Alice’s choice of career was dangerous, being an Auror was never an easy task but with Death Eaters and Voldemort bringing chaos and destruction to their world, the job was even harder. Still, she never thought she would be escorted to St. Mungo’s after receiving the news that her best friend, her sister, and her husband had been tortured by a group of blood supremacists seeking for their Master, not after also learning about the Potter’s deaths and how they’d been betrayed.

A healer explained to her what had happened to them, but she didn’t care, she didn’t want to listen; she didn’t have the strength for it. She could only sit beside Alice and grab her hand, and cry and beg someone, anyone, to bring her back.

“Alice, please, I need you, please,” (Y/N) repeated between sobs, almost like a mantra, ”Neville needs you, he is your son and- and he needs his mother, please, Alice. You can’t leave us.”

During her fourth day in the hospital, which she would only leave to eat and shower because of Augusta Longbottom’s insistence, a diveleshed Remus Lupin walked through the doors of the Janus Thickey Ward. He sat down beside (Y/N) and neither of them talked for a long time, until Remus decided he needed to say something.

“I don’t have much to say, (Y/N), but I know how close you were and I’m so sorry,” the boy whispered while reaching to grab her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I’m sorry too, Remus,” she whispered back, biting her lip and trying to not cry again,” neither of them deserved this.”

Neither did us, the pair thought.

“Where is Harry?,” (Y/N) asked him, suddenly remembering that the Potters had left a child too, “is he staying with you?”

“N-No, no. He is with Lily’s sister,” Remus answered after swallowing harshly, “what about Neville?”

“Augusta, Frank’s mum, will take care of him.” (Y/N) glanced over the old woman sitting beside her son while her grandchild rested on his crib. “I’ve been thinking about asking her if I can move in with them, I- I don’t feel like being alone right now.”

“You are always welcomed to visit me,” he assured in a low voice, as if he wasn’t sure of how she would react, “I know we weren’t the closest of friends back in Hogwarts, but- but you can count with me, we can count with each other.”

The sixteen year old (Y/N) would have been a stuttering mess if Remus Lupin had said that to her back in their sixth year at Hogwarts. Alice would have laughed at her embarrassed expression, joked about her sweaty hands and insisted that the Gryffindor returned her feelings, to which she would refuse to accept.

Now her best friend was in the hospital, a place she could never leave, her husband in the same condition and their son would have to grow up without his parents. She would have the chance to watch Neville first steps, to hear his first words, to celebrate the arrival of his Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven, to compliment his achievements, to just be there for him every time he’ll need it. It wasn’t fair and she would give her soul in an instant to anyone that claimed they could bring Alice and Frank back, even if it meant not seeing them again.

Taking care of Neville was easier than (Y/N) had expected. He’d only cry if he was hungry or if his diapers needed change, and for moments the woman wished for him to be more like the kind of babies who won’t let you sit down and relax, so then she wouldn’t have to force herself to block the blinding rage, the never ending desire for vengeance and, the worst of all, the guilt sinking down in her stomach and numbing her mind every single time Neville would look at her and smile, or whenever a giggle would escape his mouth after watching (Y/N) conjure tiny, golden lights with her wand.

The first time Neville properly talked, which meant he didn’t just babble like he usually did, (Y/N) swallowed all of her tears in front of Augusta and only let them out behind her room’s closed door after dinner. That same night, she sent a message through her Patronus to Remus, asking if she could Apparate in his flat right away. When she received an affirmative answer, she didn’t waste any time, quickly informing Augusta where she was going in case of an emergency.

The minute she was in front of his door, she’d started to regret her decision. What was she thinking? They weren’t particularly close, they would see each other from time to time since he would visit Neville once or twice every two weeks and he would go with her to see Alice and Frank, but never really talked about the important things, just making light conversation and asking each other how they were doing, both of them knowing that neither would answer the question truthfully.

After coming to the conclusion that she needed to do this, needed someone to confide in, (Y/N) raised her fist and knocked on the door two times, waited, and knocked again ��his idea so they could know it was the other behind the door—.

On the other side of the threshold was Remus Lupin with his wand pointed towards her.

“Bowtruckle,” she said confidently, although her hand was clutching tightly around her wand.

“Thunderbird.”

She loathed the idea of having safe words, but he had insisted on it because of the few Death Eaters still on the run and causing havoc. Even if she’ll never mention it to him, the second the word she had picked up for him to say left his mouth, tranquility invaded her system, calming down most of her fears.

“We could have chosen better words,” (Y/N) commented while she entered his apartment, which looked like he had tried to tidy everything up before her arrival but had failed miserably. The space was small, not a problem since he lived alone, but that meant you could see all of the rooms. There were mugs on every surface, clothes thrown over the sofa and a bin filled to the top with chocolate wrappers.

“The whole place is a mess, I’m sorry,” he rushed to say while flicking his wand and enchanted the cups to clean themselves, different items of clothes, mostly sweaters, flew across the flat and ended up in the laundry basket, “I-I wasn’t expecting you to come today.”

“It’s good, Remus, I don’t mind,” (Y/N) assured, following him and sitting down on the maroon sofa that occupied pretty much all of the living room, “I should be the one apologising for showing up with such short notice and at this hour, but I… I guess I needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh, okay. Did something happen? Is Neville alright?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine, brilliant actually,” she answered quickly to not worry him,” the thing is, he said his first word today and, and, well, he called me mum.”

“And now you feel guilty,” Remus assumed. (Y/N) had filled with tears once more, blurring her sight and dripping down her cheeks. When she started to sob, shaking her shoulders while her hands tried to muffle the sounds, Remus understood it wasn’t just guilt, but the grief she hadn’t let herself experience. Pulling her closer to him, Remus rested his chin on top of her head while his arms embraced her figure.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Remus,” she whimpered, “I’m not, I’m not trying to replace her, I swear.” Her hands found his old, forest green sweater, fingers clutching desperately to the fabric while her cries increased. “I could never replace her.”

“You are not replacing Alice, (Y/N),” he denied. His fingertips rubbing her arm tenderly, knowing nothing would be enough to comfort but still trying, just for her to know he was there. “You’re doing your best and there’s nothing wrong with Neville seeing you as a mother figure.”

“I don’t want him to,” the words left her mouth in a whisper, as if she was scared of what Remus would think of her for saying them out loud, for crossing her mind, “I shouldn’t be his mother figure because she should be here. She should be the one to feed him, to play with him, to get to know him and- and she is not, she is not here, Remus.”

Neville is four years old when he asks his Auntie (Y/N), because yes, he understands that she is not her mother, about the middle size portrait hung in the living room. The little boy doesn’t recognise the man nor the woman carrying a baby painted in it, for they don’t like his aunt, or granny or Remus, (Y/N)’s friend who always gives him chocolate when Augusta is not in the room.

(Y/N)’s heart beats loudly after hearing her godson’s question, the tightness in her chest making her feel trapped. Sitting down Neville beside her on the sofa, she glanced down to the boy, who was the spitting image of Alice.

“The people in the picture are your parents, Nev,” (Y/N) began in a soft tone, her fingers playing tenderly with the curls of his brown hair, “and the baby the woman, your mother, is carrying is you of course.”

“Why aren’t they here?,” he asked after climbing and settling on her lap, his head raised to look at his aunt.

“Because they- they need to be in another place.”

“Will they- will they come back, auntie?”

“I don’t know, Nev,” she lied while hugging him and planting a delicate kiss on one of his round cheeks, the lump on her throat growing.

She’d hoped he didn’t ask more questions or else she’ll have to explain the tears. He didn’t.

(Y/N) wouldn’t dare to say that the pain and the guilt abandoned her completely, but with each passing year things got just a little bit easier and her heart less heavy.

The first time Neville visited his parents wasn’t so terrible as she had imagined. (Y/N) had put him aside before entering the doors leading to the Janus Thickey Ward and explained, one more time, the situation to him, making sure he was ready.

“You need to be brave, little wizard. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

Neville was nine years old when Alice gave him a gum wrapper, something that quickly became a “tradition” between the two of them, mother and son. She would never recover and she would never watch Neville grow up and become a man, but such simple gesture showed him consistency and, most importantly, that Alice’s love for him could never be taken away from her.

People would pity the death most of the time, (Y/N) had been guilty of it, but after everything that had happened she realized it was so much worse for those left behind. You are expected to overcome your grief and move on with your life, but the void and the mark someone is capable of leaving in you never goes away and it’s the reason why it hurts so much to lose them.

Although (Y/N) hadn’t been alone, Augusta and Neville would never understand her pain and she’d never understand theirs for they were very different. Therefore, Remus Lupin became her rock in the darkest times and she became his, confiding in each other during their most vulnerable moments.

They would spend entire days together, playing with Neville and telling him stories of their years at Hogwarts; drinking tea near the fireplace during winter while discussing books, politics, muggle movies or whatever topic they could think of; celebrating birthdays just for the sake of Neville, who loved the cake and giving presents. It was clear that falling in love with Remus hadn’t been much difficult for her, it was, instead, getting him to open up and let her in his life in a whole new way.

(Y/N) respected his decision, it was better to have Remus as a close friend and companion than not have him at all. She would stay with him on the days near the full moon —he told her after quite a few shots of Firewhisky and she admitted she’d been suspecting for a long time now—, look after his wounds and sleep on his sofa, because she could never take his bed in those nights (especially the rough ones).

On May 2nd, he left her behind.

However, she had barely escaped the claws of death, her only thought being Neville and how she needed to stay alive for him.

Bellatrix Lestrange was the last Death Eater standing, the mad woman fighting Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger in the middle of the Great Hall, while Harry Potter faced Voldemort all by himself.

(Y/N) didn’t know how or from where she had gathered the strength to send all of the three girls behind her with a swift motion of her wand, but seeing Lestrange, one of the Death Eaters responsible for her best friend’s fate, shouting the Killing Curse to the Weasley girl had ignited the fire she’d tried so long to extinguish. Perhaps because Ginny reminded her of Lily for a second, or because she was tired of watching innocent people die around her.

She was now standing a couple of metres away from Bellatrix, the one that’d tortured her sister into insanity, taking away all of her life. But (Y/N) wouldn’t become one of her victims, she wouldn’t be a name on a list and she wouldn’t let Bellatrix take another person from Neville’s life.

It hadn’t been easy and she should have felt sick of it, but the lifeless body of Bellatrix Lestrange and the roars of people all over the place, brought her a bittersweet feeling of satisfaction.

Sitting down beside Neville after the final battle finished, she threw one of her arms around his shoulders and kissed his forehead, silently thanking whoever had watched over him.

“Earlier, I saw you on the Courtyard defending a group of students from the Dementors,” he began, “and your Patronus was so, so extraordinary. What did you think of, aunt?”

(Y/N) allowed herself to smile softly.

“I thought of the day you were born, of course.”

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