ficpost, Tidings of Comfort and Joy
Jul. 27th, 2006 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mari4212For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cheshire23, who has probably forgotten that she requested this, it's taken me so long to do it, a story about Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Tidings of Comfort and Joy
Rating: PG
It was at times like this, Frank thought, that Alice was truly beautiful. Oh, if he said anything she’d blush and deny it, but as he watched her loving face as she played on the floor with their toddler son, he thought her more precious and more radiant than any other woman.
It had been a surprise for them both, when Dumbledore had told them about the prophecy, and how Neville was one of the two children that fit the requirements. He’d urged them to go into hiding, to use him as a Secret Keeper. Frank had objected at first, not liking the idea of cowering behind Dumbledore’s robes, but Alice had reminded him of how vulnerable Neville was, with one of her rare displays of temper that belied her normally gentle demeanor.
If nothing else, it was at least giving them some quality time with Neville. The past few months, before they’d been sent into hiding, they’d been so busy with their work as Aurors and their missions with the Order, they’d barely seen their son for more than a few hours at a time. His grandmother had been taking care of him, but that could only work as a temporary measure.
When this war is over, Frank thought wistfully, before he suppressed a bitter laugh. The war wasn’t likely to end anytime in the near future, so what was he doing trying to plan past that? Still, he continued, when this war is over I’m going to request a desk job. Neville needs someone who can be there with him regularly, and it’s Alice who really excels at the fieldwork we do.
Frank’s musing was interrupted by Neville breaking away from Alice and toddling over to pat at his knee. His smile became real as he gazed down at the determined look on his son’s face. “So you want Daddy to play with you now? Alright, Neville, what do you want to play with?”
Neville was still speeding towards his toy box when a knock sounded at the door. There was only one person who could find them here, and that was Dumbledore. But what was he doing here at nine in the evening on a school day? Worried, Frank gestured for Alice to pick Neville up and move back before he went to open the door.
It was Dumbledore, and he stood there before them with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Albus?” Alice asked, stepping forward with Neville balanced on her hip. “What’s happened, why are you here?”
Dumbledore’s expression seemed to lighten as his glance moved to Alice and Neville, before his face fell into sober lines once more. “I’ve come with news, Alice. Voldemort has been defeated, and Neville is not the child mentioned in the prophecy.”
Alice’s face turned briefly luminous as she heard the news, and Frank was practically beside himself with joy. Voldemort gone? And Neville was safe from the prophecy?
But as fast as it had appeared, the joy was gone from Alice’s face as she continued to lock eyes with Dumbledore. “What about the Potters, are Lily and James and Harry alright?” she asked.
And at that, Albus’ face took on an expression that Frank had seen far too often since the war had grown heated: sorrow. “Their Secret Keeper betrayed them,” he said. “James and Lily Potter are dead.”
Alice let out a horrified gasp, and Neville seemed to pick up the tensions in the room as he started whimpering. Frank rode out the initial shocked numbness, knowing that he would grieve for the loss of his friends later. Right now, he needed more information from Dumbledore. “James and Lily, but what about Harry? What happened to him?”
Some of the sorrow left Dumbledore’s face, and his body relaxed out of the tense pose that Frank now realized it had been in since he had opened the door. The worst of the news must be over. “Harry is alive, Frank. It appears that he was the child mentioned in the prophecy.”
Alice stepped in then. “What will happen to Harry now? Can he come and stay with us?” Trust Alice to hone in on that, Frank thought. But it was true, with James and Lily dead and Sirius having betrayed them, Harry was alone in the world. And Alice had always had a heart large enough to hold the whole world within, of course she would offer to take in the orphaned boy.
Dumbledore frowned again, though his voice remained pleasant. “Unfortunately, Alice, I cannot risk placing Harry with you. There are those who would seek to take revenge upon him for Voldemort’s defeat. Lily’s bloodline is the strongest defense I can create for him, and to gain that protection he must live with Lily’s sister.”
Alice was trembling with rage as Dumbledore finished speaking. “You can’t mean Petunia, Albus Dumbledore. Tell me that you don’t mean Petunia. Lily,” and she stuttered for a moment as she spoke her name, “Lily told me about her. She hates magic, she hated Lily for being a witch. You can’t put Harry with Petunia.”
“I can and I must,” Dumbledore responded, the furrows in his brow growing deeper with every word. “Harry must be kept safe at all costs, and Petunia Dursley is our only hope for the time at hand. Perhaps, in a month or so, when we have dealt with Voldemort’s followers, we can reconsider.”
“He’ll come to us.” Alice was adamant, her voice icily determined. Even if Dumbledore didn’t recognize the warning signs, Frank did. Nothing would deter Alice once she’d reached a decision like that. “Harry can grow up with Neville, they’ll do well together.”
“That is a possible solution,” Dumbledore said. “However, we should discuss it at another opportunity. The hour grows late, and I must see Harry safely arrives at Petunia’s for the time being. I have lifted the Fidelius Charm from your home, and I should leave now if I do not wish to miss telling Harry goodbye.”
Frank walked him to the door. “Goodbye, Albus, and stay safe. Voldemort’s followers will be out looking for revenge, and you were the strongest figurehead against him. Any attacks in the days ahead will probably be directed towards you.”
Albus Dumbledore looked him in the eyes before gently pressing one hand to his shoulder. “And you also, my friend. I have lost many close companions to this war, I do not wish to lose you or your wife here at the end.”
cheshire23, who has probably forgotten that she requested this, it's taken me so long to do it, a story about Frank and Alice Longbottom. Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Tidings of Comfort and Joy
Rating: PG
It was at times like this, Frank thought, that Alice was truly beautiful. Oh, if he said anything she’d blush and deny it, but as he watched her loving face as she played on the floor with their toddler son, he thought her more precious and more radiant than any other woman.
It had been a surprise for them both, when Dumbledore had told them about the prophecy, and how Neville was one of the two children that fit the requirements. He’d urged them to go into hiding, to use him as a Secret Keeper. Frank had objected at first, not liking the idea of cowering behind Dumbledore’s robes, but Alice had reminded him of how vulnerable Neville was, with one of her rare displays of temper that belied her normally gentle demeanor.
If nothing else, it was at least giving them some quality time with Neville. The past few months, before they’d been sent into hiding, they’d been so busy with their work as Aurors and their missions with the Order, they’d barely seen their son for more than a few hours at a time. His grandmother had been taking care of him, but that could only work as a temporary measure.
When this war is over, Frank thought wistfully, before he suppressed a bitter laugh. The war wasn’t likely to end anytime in the near future, so what was he doing trying to plan past that? Still, he continued, when this war is over I’m going to request a desk job. Neville needs someone who can be there with him regularly, and it’s Alice who really excels at the fieldwork we do.
Frank’s musing was interrupted by Neville breaking away from Alice and toddling over to pat at his knee. His smile became real as he gazed down at the determined look on his son’s face. “So you want Daddy to play with you now? Alright, Neville, what do you want to play with?”
Neville was still speeding towards his toy box when a knock sounded at the door. There was only one person who could find them here, and that was Dumbledore. But what was he doing here at nine in the evening on a school day? Worried, Frank gestured for Alice to pick Neville up and move back before he went to open the door.
It was Dumbledore, and he stood there before them with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Albus?” Alice asked, stepping forward with Neville balanced on her hip. “What’s happened, why are you here?”
Dumbledore’s expression seemed to lighten as his glance moved to Alice and Neville, before his face fell into sober lines once more. “I’ve come with news, Alice. Voldemort has been defeated, and Neville is not the child mentioned in the prophecy.”
Alice’s face turned briefly luminous as she heard the news, and Frank was practically beside himself with joy. Voldemort gone? And Neville was safe from the prophecy?
But as fast as it had appeared, the joy was gone from Alice’s face as she continued to lock eyes with Dumbledore. “What about the Potters, are Lily and James and Harry alright?” she asked.
And at that, Albus’ face took on an expression that Frank had seen far too often since the war had grown heated: sorrow. “Their Secret Keeper betrayed them,” he said. “James and Lily Potter are dead.”
Alice let out a horrified gasp, and Neville seemed to pick up the tensions in the room as he started whimpering. Frank rode out the initial shocked numbness, knowing that he would grieve for the loss of his friends later. Right now, he needed more information from Dumbledore. “James and Lily, but what about Harry? What happened to him?”
Some of the sorrow left Dumbledore’s face, and his body relaxed out of the tense pose that Frank now realized it had been in since he had opened the door. The worst of the news must be over. “Harry is alive, Frank. It appears that he was the child mentioned in the prophecy.”
Alice stepped in then. “What will happen to Harry now? Can he come and stay with us?” Trust Alice to hone in on that, Frank thought. But it was true, with James and Lily dead and Sirius having betrayed them, Harry was alone in the world. And Alice had always had a heart large enough to hold the whole world within, of course she would offer to take in the orphaned boy.
Dumbledore frowned again, though his voice remained pleasant. “Unfortunately, Alice, I cannot risk placing Harry with you. There are those who would seek to take revenge upon him for Voldemort’s defeat. Lily’s bloodline is the strongest defense I can create for him, and to gain that protection he must live with Lily’s sister.”
Alice was trembling with rage as Dumbledore finished speaking. “You can’t mean Petunia, Albus Dumbledore. Tell me that you don’t mean Petunia. Lily,” and she stuttered for a moment as she spoke her name, “Lily told me about her. She hates magic, she hated Lily for being a witch. You can’t put Harry with Petunia.”
“I can and I must,” Dumbledore responded, the furrows in his brow growing deeper with every word. “Harry must be kept safe at all costs, and Petunia Dursley is our only hope for the time at hand. Perhaps, in a month or so, when we have dealt with Voldemort’s followers, we can reconsider.”
“He’ll come to us.” Alice was adamant, her voice icily determined. Even if Dumbledore didn’t recognize the warning signs, Frank did. Nothing would deter Alice once she’d reached a decision like that. “Harry can grow up with Neville, they’ll do well together.”
“That is a possible solution,” Dumbledore said. “However, we should discuss it at another opportunity. The hour grows late, and I must see Harry safely arrives at Petunia’s for the time being. I have lifted the Fidelius Charm from your home, and I should leave now if I do not wish to miss telling Harry goodbye.”
Frank walked him to the door. “Goodbye, Albus, and stay safe. Voldemort’s followers will be out looking for revenge, and you were the strongest figurehead against him. Any attacks in the days ahead will probably be directed towards you.”
Albus Dumbledore looked him in the eyes before gently pressing one hand to his shoulder. “And you also, my friend. I have lost many close companions to this war, I do not wish to lose you or your wife here at the end.”
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Thank You
Date: 2006-07-28 12:47 am (UTC)Re: Thank You
Date: 2006-07-28 12:48 am (UTC)Bugger the stupid return key!
Date: 2006-07-28 12:49 am (UTC)Re: Bugger the stupid return key!
Date: 2006-07-28 01:12 am (UTC)Re: Thank You
Date: 2006-07-28 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 01:26 am (UTC)I've had a keen interest in Alice Longbottom for a while now - there's this weird thing about how she's simply described as the Auror's wife in the courtroom scene in GoF, and then in OotP, Neville's grandmother says that both of his parents were highly gifted Aurors. I suppose it was just another of those odd bursts of sexism in Rowling's writing...but your Alice is a lot like how I pictured her. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 02:25 am (UTC)I'm really glad you liked this, because I was rather unsure of it going in.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 04:26 pm (UTC)Seriously, what is with me writing all these bittersweet stories? You'd think, given how optimistic I am, I'd be writing stories that are all sunshine and daisies.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 05:25 pm (UTC)I think most optimistic people choose to be optimistic. They still realise the things that are 'bad', disappointing, upsetting, and yet still they go out there with a smile on their face, seeing the brighter side.
And I think it stems from that. Writing something more bittersweet or depressing is a way of getting the more unhappier thoughts out of the system and allowing to go on. It's a release.
Maybe it's just easier being bittersweet etc. in fiction rather than in real life.