Drifting

Drifting

In Between Insanity

There's a boy above me. His blonde hair is wispy, and his pudgy cheeks hold a certain familiarity. He's talking to me now, but I can't seem to hear him. His mouth moves though, and I know he's speaking.

Why can't I hear him?

He seems disappointed for a moment, as his mouth stops, but then he keeps talking again with a nostalgic kind of look in his eyes.

I know I recognize him. He seems young, but I know that I know him. Why can't I remember who he is? I try to sit up to get comfortable, but my arms are heavy. I'm lifting, lifting, lifting them up, but nothing is happening.

Why won't they move?

Think...think...think... You didn't go through all that Auror training just to lose your head in a slightly confusing moment.

Why can't I move? What did my instructor always say? Oh my... what did...?

What was my instructor's name? I should know his....

Why can't I remember?

Think.... Think.... Think....

I close my eyes for a moment in concentration, and when I open them everything is different.

There is a woman here now. She is humming slightly as she walks by. She fluffs my pillows a bit, clucking with sympathy, and then she leaves.

Where am I?

I blink for a moment, something entirely natural, and suddenly the boy is in front of me again. He seems a bit different, a bit taller. His eyes are red and puffy, and I resist the urge to comfort him. I couldn't even if I wanted to; I still can't move.

What's happening to me?

I have to think. What do I remember? Auror... I'm an Auror... I fight dark wizards.... But why does the boy look familiar?

I'm thinking and thinking, but I can't remember, and suddenly a strange thought occurs to me; he has my face. The same pudgy cheeks I have.

I don't know why I can recall my own appearance when I can't recall anything else except my profession, but still this newfound information comes out of nowhere. And it brings a smile to my face.

The boy smiles back.

It occurs to me that he has my smile. And suddenly I'm lost in a sea of memories. Neville...Neville... my son.... Frank... oh Merlin...

And my body is racking in pain as I convulse up and down. My eyes are open for a moment, and I see a look of horror on Neville's face, before I gurgle with agony. Oh Merlin... It hurts so badly...

Suddenly a healer is over me. Her lips seem to move in slow motion, but I can understand what she says. "It'll be okay Mrs. Longbottom."

My body aches and I wish I could scream.

Then a spell hits me-- darkness.

Suddenly I'm awake again, but... my eyes were already open. It's an odd sensation to awake, knowing you've already been awake for a while. I blink though, and the boy in front of me seems to look with hope.

My son? I... okay... He's my son... Neville... and... what happened earlier?

I'm concentrating so much that at first I don't realize I can hear him.

"Mum, I'm going to Hogwarts soon. I'm not a squib, I have magic. I don't know what I'll tell everyone about myself. I'm probably going to be in Hufflepuff. I'm not brave like you and Dad ar- were. I mean, I couldn't do what you did. I'm just a coward. I wish you could understand me Mum. I... sometimes I think you really can. It's so silly, but I remember when you smiled at me once. Are you in there, Mum?"

Neville is about to leave, when I suddenly move my arm. I'm in complete shock for a moment, but I reach out to him on my bed. I pull on his robes, and he gasps.

"Mum?"

Darkness.

When next I gain awareness, it seems a lot of time has past. Neville is there again, and the room is decorated in red and green. Christmas?

He's talking and he's talking, but it seems only every other few words are understandable.

"Mum...love... school... chamber... scared... not... brave... Harry... petrified.... I... understand..."

He leaves some treats on the nightstand beside my bed, and he walks away. I see a shadow of a figure with him. Augusta?

I try to look around the room, when I see a bed next to me. Frank?

What happened to us? It hurts to remember, but oh, I wish I could.

I glance at the table filled with sweets and notice a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. I try to reach for it, but then my body is flooded with pain once more.

I look out the window, and the sky is black. Time has passed again. I try to remember. I try so much, but it hurts so badly. I stare at Frank out of the corner of my eye; my head hurts too much to move. He seems old, so very old. Do I look as old as he does? I wonder how much time has passed. It seems a lifetime. A moment later, he looks at me. I try to smile at him, tell him that I'm okay, but I can't. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I hope to Merlin the same thing isn't wrong with him. What kind of existence is this?

My mouth feels frozen as I try to smile again. A moment later, my face lightens and I smile right at him.

He smiles back, and in that moment, I know that there are still things worth living for.

The next time Neville comes, I can move around. He looks at me in complete bewilderment as he catches sight of me sitting straight up in bed. I smile at him weakly, and he smiles back brightly. He looks so big. How long has it been? He glances back at someone-- Augusta? --and asks her something. The reply must be a good one, as he looks back at me and begins to ramble.

"Oh, Mum... The healers say you've been a lot better... I'm doing okay in school...Harry found the chamber that I told you about," Neville says.

Harry? Lily's and James's son? I hope he's alright.

"Now he's in a tournament though. The Triwizard Tournament." Neville says.

I listen to him talk about the different schools and everything that's happened. His face is lit happily the whole time, but I can't help but wonder why he comes to visit, when I can't even answer him, and neither can Frank. He seems to have grown up well. Is he fourteen now? Maybe fifteen? It's hard to tell.

Augusta raised him well.

He gets up to leave an indefinite amount of time later. I reach out to him and squeeze his shoulder lightly. He looks sad and happy all at the same time. I see Frank smile at him.

What have we become?

I run through memories in my mind. I can remember Auror training and Frank. I can remember Neville. I even remember what the Triwizard Tournament is. (Maybe Neville is older than I thought if Harry is old enough to be in the tournament?) I remember Augusta. I remember Hogwarts.

And I remember pain.

I try to stop remembering.

The next time he comes, he seems especially sad. I feel so bad for him, that I'm in here. I must be in Saint Mungo's with Frank, and Augusta must have raised him. Other than that, I know nothing of his life. I know about a chamber and a tournament, I try to reassure myself.

I let out a laugh as he's talking to me, and he looks happily surprised, not knowing it is a laugh of disgust. I know nothing.

Suddenly, people appear near our beds, and Neville flushes purple, looking just like Frank did whenever he was embarrassed. Augusta begins to speak to the shadow people, mentioning Weasleys and Grangers.

I know the name Weasley. Arthur and Molly are here? Or is it their children?

Suddenly, Augusta makes a comment. I don't hear it all, but I hear enough. "Hasn't got his father's talent."

I want to snarl at her and scream and yell. I know nothing of Neville, and even I know that is a bald-faced lie. How dare she insult our boy? How dare she put that kind of pressure on him? How dare she?

In the back of my mind, I try to think logically, but the thoughts get a bit jumbled. Augusta lost her son to the Pain. (I don't know what else to call it.) Of course she would put expectations on Neville. Still, I open my mouth to protest. All that comes out is a small gurgling sound.

No one notices. It's not like anyone ever does. In the corner of my eye, I see Frank's eyes squinting. I know he's trying to glare too.

No one ever notices.

Neville looks infinitely embarrassed and defiant, as I look around the ward. I catch sight of a James Potter look-a-like. It must be Harry. He seems old. I see flashes of red hair. The Weasleys had more children, I guess. I see a few other people, as I look at Augusta again.

"Tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers."

My mouth tries to form an o of surprise. I see Frank flinch back in his bed, ever so slightly. I wonder if he had already figured out what has happened to us, or is this first he's heard of it too.

I know what happens when people are tortured. Frank knows too.

And now I know what has happened to us.

Insanity. Insanity. Insanity. Augusta's words echo in my head. I want to scream and yell and shout. I want to stand up and say, "I'm right here. I'm okay. I can hear you!"

But I can't. Because I'm insane.

Suddenly, everything makes sense. The memory of pain comes flooding back into my body, but this time it doesn't hurt to remember.

I know my name is Alice. I know I was an Auror. I know Neville is my son and Frank is my husband. I know Augusta is my mother-in-law. I know of Hogwarts and Triwizard Tournaments. I know that Neville looks like I do. I know all of this, and now I know I am insane.

I feel the world click into place as I remember pain. Crucio after crucio after crucio. Wishing for death but praying to live. Hours that lasted days that lasted years. Time blending together. Pain.

But Neville lived.

Suddenly, the people begin to leave. Neville looks so embarrassed, yet he does not look ashamed. I hope he's not angry with me, with Frank. We may have prayed for death, but we still wanted to live. Oh how we wanted to live.

I try to signal to Neville. I want him to come over here. I want to hug my son. I want to see him smile, and I want to hear him laugh. I want to apologize for being insane. I want to tell him I can hear him, and his visits mean everything to me. Instead, I reach for a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapped on the table next to me. I walk over to him, and I hand it to him with what I hope is a squeeze of sanity.

Augusta speaks, but all I can focus on is Neville. "Thanks Mum."

Neville thanks me, and in that moment I know that these moments of lucidity are both a blessing and a curse. I totter back to my ward, and I wish he would follow me. He doesn't.

I stand at the front of Frank's bed, and I try to speak to him. I try to speak to my husband. For better and for worse. In sickness and in health.

Instead, I lay back in my bed. Till death do us part.

For a while, I try to tell myself I'm not insane. I try to tell myself this is all a dream. Then Neville comes to visit again. He smiles at me, and Augusta goes to the front of Frank's bed. It seems like only days have passed, but Neville looks so much different.

My son is giving me my sanity. He talks to Frank and me. He tells us about school and classes. I listen, and I realize I'm insane. I'm insane, but I can still hear him. It is a worse curse than the Cruciatus itself. Neville looks so old. He looks sixteen or seventeen. Maybe even older. I've missed it all. My life is confined to small blips of time.

I look at Frank, and he smiles lopsidedly at me. I look at Augusta, and she flashes a weary look back. I look at Neville, and I realize he will never stop visiting and talking, even though we'll never answer. He looks at me expectantly, and I stare at him. Then I lie back in my bed.

He talks some more.

The next time I'm aware, Neville is there again. He looks so much older, like years have passed. Years probably have passed. He says he's sorry for not visiting last year, but he wasn't able to. He explains to me that the government was corrupt, and Hogwarts was being run by Death Eaters. He says he had to stay to help the students. He was helping to lead a rebellion. I'm so proud of him.

Then the world stops as he tells me Voldemort is dead.

I can't help it. I let out a laugh of delight, and my face bursts into a bright smile. He stops mid-word, and looks at me in complete shock. His face goes pasty white. "Mum?"

I nod at him. He has to know it's me. He just has to know I can hear him.

"Oh." He looks from my bed to Frank's. Frank gets up and wobbles over to my bed. We sit next to each other and stare at Neville. "Dad?"

Frank nods.

Neville hugs us both. He begins to speak quickly, telling us everything. The lucidity lasts for hours, as he talks until his voice is hoarse.

The next thing I know, he is gone with a smile, telling us he'll be back. He'll come more often. He loves us so much.

I begin to drift again. Drifting, drifting, drifting, as if in a dream. Memories flood my mind between Neville's visits. I'm not angry any longer. I'm insane, but I'm alive. I'm insane, but I'm sane. Neville keeps me this way. So when he comes to visit, I hold on to my few moments of sanity with all that I have. And whenever there is a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper nearby, I hand it to Neville.

He knows we're here for him. We're here only for him.

Dozens of visits later, he comes to visit with a young girl. He calls her Hannah and says this is the girl he is going to marry. I smile at her and hug her, and she looks sadly at me. I look over at Neville and he looks at me. I give him a motherly nod of approval. I know he sees it for what it is when he mutters in her ear, "They like you."

Before they leave, I hand Hannah a Drooble's wrapper. She looks at me with confusion in her eyes, but Neville mutters something in her ear. Hannah slips the wrapper into her pocket and says, "Thank you...Mum."

Neville kisses Frank and me on the cheek before he leaves. He thanks us. "I'll see you again soon."

The door to the ward slams shut as they leave.

Darkness.