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ginnyweatherby · 8 days ago

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Birthday at the Closed Ward

I don't know if it's the end of summer or my upcoming birthday that's making me nostalgic, but I've had Potter on the mind lately, namely one Neville Longbottom. So here's something sweet that just wouldn't leave my brain.

I don't think it's ever been established whether he ever had any children, so I just made one up.

Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Hannah Abbott

Word Count: about 2200

***

Neville frowned at the squirmy pink bundle in his arms. He didn’t know what to make of it, in all honesty.

By all accounts, he should have been nothing short of thrilled.

A round button rose, rosy pink cheeks, a smattering of white-blonde hair atop her head.

She was perfect. He had never seen something so precious.

Yet… something nagged at him. It wasn’t that he was unhappy, far from it. He’d had nine months to sort through all his emotions, and happiness was certainly high on the list, but something still felt strange about it all.

He and Hannah never intended to have children. Between his teaching, and her bouncing around the infirmary, training below the soon-to-retire Madam Pomfrey, they never thought they’d find the time to start a family. They were content to be the proud parents of their many exotic plants.

… and yet, planned or not, here she was. Safe and secure in Neville’s arms.

“She’s pretty neat, isn’t she?”

Neville turned at the sound of his wife's voice. She’d been such a trooper, the last 48 hours had been the (well, some of the) longest and scariest of their lives.

“She looks like you,” Neville said, and it was true. Just beneath all the newborn redness and general squishiness, this little girl shared a striking resemblance to her mother… with Neville’s round cheeks, by the looks of it.

“Poor girl,” Hannah said, reaching out her arms for Neville to place the baby in.

“Hey now,” Neville sat gingerly at the edge of the bed. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

Hannah leaned back and closed her eyes, humming contently. “I know you were probably hoping to name her after your mother,” she mused as she absentmindedly stroked the baby’s hair, “but I’m afraid I’ve known three baby Alices born in the last six months, and I’d hate for her to be stuck in a class with four girls all with the same name.”

“We don’t have to name her after anyone,” Neville said, certain he did not want a daughter named “Augusta” running about either.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hannah’s eyes slowly opened as she peered down at the baby. “I think ‘Frankie’ has a certain charm to it.”

Neville blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Well, short for Francesca, maybe,” Hannah said, tapping the baby gently on the nose, “but it makes for a fine nickname, don't you think?”

Neville blinked back a few tears, and heard himself agree.

“Frankie’ it is, then,” Hannah said with a tone of finality, a smile on her face.

Despite his attempt to smile back, Hannah always seemed to see right through him, better than anyone.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed together in that adorable way they tended to when she was concerned - usually about him.

“I’m supposed to ask you that,” Neville said, looking down at his shoes.

“You did,” Hannah reminded him fondly. “Many, many times.”

Neville nodded, the day's excitement leaving him too tired to think of any sort of retort to that. He was quiet for another moment before saying, “I don’t know what to do now.”

Hannah looked taken aback. “About what?”

“Any of this,” Neville threw his hands out in front of him. “I don’t… I don’t know how to be a dad.”

“Darling, it’s not like I’ve had any experience in this area, either."

“No, but you at least got to talk with your mum,” Neville said, perhaps a little sharper than he intended to.

Hannah didn’t say anything to that, choosing to look down at Frankie instead.

“Hannah, I didn’t mean-”

“I wish I had my mum here with me too,” she said softly, “to help guide me a little.”

Neville chewed on the inside of his cheek, mentally kicking himself. The woman was only mere hours post-partum, and here he was, bringing up the one person that always upset her to think about.

I’m sorry,” Neville’s head fell into his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“Freaking out?” Hannah suggested.

Neville looked at her between his fingers, and nodded.

“You’re talking to the queen of freaking out, you know.” Hannah gently pried his hand away from his face, clasping their fingers together. “I’ve perfected several types of calming draughts for a reason, after all.”

“But you aren’t,” Neville’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Oh, I am,” Hannah said, with a bit of a dry chuckle. “Very much… but I’m also so exhausted I’m not sure the full gravity of the situation has entirely sunk in yet.”

She leaned back and carefully adjusted the baby so Neville could peer down at her sleeping face.

“Think about it,” she said, “we made a person, Neville!”

“Yes, you see, I’m afraid that’s the reason for my panic in the first place.” Still, he reached down to move the blanket out of Frankie’s face. “What if I screw up? Screw her up? Badly?”

“You won’t,” Hannah said. “You’re so good with your students, you spoil your godkids rotten. You’re excellent with children.”

Neville was silent for a moment.

“I was raised by someone who wasn’t prepared to take me,” he said quietly.

“That’s different, and you know it is,” Hannah said, looking him firmly in the eye. “You aren’t trying to raise your grandson while also coping with having to put your child into St. Mungo's permanently.”

“Well, that’s another thing!” Neville’s voice was growing desperate and he hated it. He stood from the bed, and started pacing across the floor. “What if something happens to me?”

“It won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Neville said. “You can't know that, and if it does, what happens to her?”

Hannah sighed. He could tell she was getting tired, and he knew he shouldn’t be keeping her awake much longer. She needed rest.

“Then we - all of us - will figure it out,” she said, reaching out a hand to stop his frantic pacing. “You hear me?”

Neville didn’t reply.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

He did.

“Everything will be fine,” Hannah motioned for him to take the baby. “You will be fine. I will be fine… and most importantly-”

Frankie chose that moment to let out a yawn that seemed much too large for her tiny body. It overtook her features, and she made what was possibly the most adorable noise Neville had ever heard.

“Most importantly, Frankie will be fine.”

“Alright, up you go,” Hannah’s father had her by one arm, while Neville held the other. Together, they carefully eased her into a wheelchair, while Neville’s grandmother expertly held Frankie in one arm, and her cane in the other.

It had been three long days since little Frankie made her appearance, and it was finally time to go home.

“All set?” Neville asked, dropping to his knee to make sure Hannah was comfortably settled.

“As I’ll ever be,” she reached out as his gran laid Frankie into her arms. “Let’s get this little lady home!”

Neville squeezed Hannah’s shoulder as he stood, before steering the chair toward the exit.

They were chatting lightly on their way out the maternity ward, when they came across a very familiar corridor.

Neville paused, causing Hannah to let out a small grunt of surprise. “Sorry.”

“What is it?” Hannah asked, craning her neck around to look at him. Her father and his gran had stopped ahead of them, and were now looking back curiously. “Did you forget something?”

“Sorry I just, er,” Neville shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I was just thinking…”

Suddenly his gran was at their side, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know just what you’re thinking, and I agree.” She looked down at Hannah, who now had a look of recognition dawning on her face, as well.

“We’ll wait out here,” his gran said. “We'll make sure Hannah stays comfortable.”

Hannah guided Frankie into his arms, before squeezing his arm. “You’ve got her. They’re going to love her, I just know it.”

Neville didn’t know how she could be so sure, but didn’t argue. She was usually right, after all.

“Don’t be too long,” Hannah said, before looking up at her father. “There’s a hot chocolate with my name on it when I get home.”

Neville smirked. Any time her father visited she managed to swindle him into making her his famous hot chocolate, the kind she always insisted only he could make properly.

“Just a quick visit,” Neville promised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Hannah nodded as her father took the handles of her chair, and Neville watched them turn the corner toward the waiting area, before looking down to Frankie, who had started to fuss a bit. “I hear you,” he murmured, as he gently bounced her. “We’ll go back to Mummy soon… there’s just some people I want you to meet first.”

Softly humming to Frankie as he went, Neville finally came to a door that had become all too familiar over the years. He slowly pushed the door open, nodding politely to Gilderoy Lockhart as he passed by, before greeting a nearby Healer.

“Oh, Mr. Longbottom! How nice to see you!” The Healer said, cheerily. “How is Hannah doing?”

“Just on our way home now,” Neville said, nodding toward Frankie.

“Oh my goodness, how precious!” The Healer cooed over Frankie’s adorable little cheeks for a moment. “I suppose you’re here to introduce her to the grandparents, then?”

Neville nodded. “Is now a good time?”

“Of course it is,” the Healer said. “Your mother has just woken up from a nap, so she’s in high spirits.”

Or as high-spirited as someone in her condition could be, Neville privately supposed.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” the Healer said, edging out of the area, pulling the curtains closed behind her.

Neville walked slowly over to his parents. They both had those same faraway smiles they always wore. He often wondered what they thought about all day, wishing so desperately they could tell him.

“Hi Mum, Dad,” Neville said, sitting in a chair between their beds. “Having a good day, then?”

His mother hummed in that way Neville had grown accustomed to hearing. It was comforting, in a way.

“I won’t stay long,” Neville said. “I need to get back to Hannah, but I wanted to introduce you to someone.”

Neville pulled the blanket away from Frankie’s face, the baby’s wide blue eyes looking around curiously. “This is my daughter, Frankie. Named after you, Dad!”

Neville’s father looked at him, and made a sound that Neville could nearly fool himself into thinking was a sort of recognition.

“She’s brand new, and I’m terrified,” He admitted, “but she’s perfect. Hannah’s doing brilliantly, too.”

His mother hummed again, gesturing toward the baby.

“You want to see closer, Mum?” Neville sat on his mother’s bed, bringing Frankie closer to her.

She made a happy sort of sound that brought a smile to Neville’s face. “That’s right, Mum - your granddaughter.”

He moved over to show the baby to his father as well, who reached out and touched Frankie’s gauzy hat.

“She’s pretty cute, huh?” Neville said, affectionately. “I knew you’d love her.”

They spent a little more time together, Neville prattling on, airing out all his worries about becoming a new parent, how he wished they had some advice for him. His parents seemed to take an interest in Frankie too, the way they kept gazing at her, giving her smiles. They might not have fully understood who she was, but they seemed to know she was important.

Neville knew their visit was coming to an end when Frankie started to really fuss, obviously in need of a feeding.

“Well, I suppose I need to be going now,” Neville said, somewhat sadly. As a kid, he struggled so much with these visits, only going when his gran forced it, but as an adult he grew to really appreciate them.

“Yes, yes,” Neville bounced Frankie as her cries got louder, not wanting to disturb the others in the ward. “We’re going to see Mummy now…”

Just as he stood to leave, his mother tugged on his sleeve. “Yes, Mum?”

She passed him a sweet wrapper, like she did nearly every visit.

“Thanks, Mum, I’ll be sure to put it with the rest.”

She hummed, before gesturing pointedly to the baby.

“Oh, for Frankie?” Neville tried to swallow a lump that had started to form in his throat.

“Mm.”

“Okay, Mum,” Neville choked out. “I’ll make sure she gets it.” Neville placed the wrapper on Frankie’s blanket with a gentle tap, as if the baby was holding it. “The start of her own collection.”

His mother seemed satisfied with this, and turned back around toward her bed, humming to herself again.

“You don’t know it yet,” Neville told Frankie quietly, as they made their way back out into the corridor, “but that is a very special gift from your gran.”

He kissed the baby's soft little head, and as he met back up with Hannah and the others in the waiting area, he realized that the uneasy feeling he’d had for the last three days had not only lessened, but somehow miraculously disappeared.

#i hesitated to post this because of She Who Must Not Be Named #but man these brainworms have HANDS #an enormous fuck you to jkr. but ily neville 💜#the timeline is a little fuzzy because madam pomfrey and augusta are mentioned but i figure wizards can live a long time so. it's fine!!!!#harry potter #hp #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #neville longbottom #hannah abbott #hp fan fiction #weatherby writes #random ramblings

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