EpilogueDisclaimer: None of the characters are mine, but belong to their respective owners.
Neville was dreaming. It was a strange dream, much different from his regular ones (which usually featured all sorts of magical and wonderful Hogwarts’ flora), when he was lying in his bed, and his long-lost parents (well, not exactly lost, but you get the idea) were approaching him, their faces distorted in a grotesque, diabolical way, and the visible parts of his bodies were covered in some strange design (not the DE tattoos, but still strange).
Neville didn’t like this dream, he did his best to wake-up, but for some strange reason he couldn’t, and when his parents suddenly ended-up too close for comfort, there was a gust of cold wind, a clap of thunder, and someone appeared behind him. Neville wasn’t sure who that someone was, but since he or she were emitting a light as bright as that of a powerful Lumos
spell, he was certain that the newcomer wasn’t a human either.
“You!” the newcomer spoke, still positioned behind Neville. “What business do you have here?”
“None,” his interlocutor replied, and Neville gulped, because he didn’t sound anything as his father sounded. “We were supposed to stay in the hospital, until the end of their lives, but now a spell has taken a hold of us, and it is driving us mad.”
“Then go back to whence you came from,” the newcomer said sternly.
“Gladly!” And suddenly Neville’s parents were grabbed by a being that appeared to be mostly pure white energy. There was a burst of bright light, the smell of something burning, and...
...And Neville Longbottom woke up. It was morning, the sun was shining and the birds were singing outside.
“Son?” Alice Longbottom, followed by her husband, approached Neville cautiously.
“Yes?” Neville replied, equally cautious. He wasn’t sure about this for some reason – possibly because of a mostly forgotten dream he had last night. “What’s going on?”
Before either of his parents could reply, an owl bearing news with St. Mungo’s impression on the wax landed on their dining table.
“Good news,” Frank muttered, as he reached the letter first. “Mother’s crisis is over – she’ll be back here this evening... with a nurse assigned to her by the hospital. That’s great.”
Instinctively, Neville exchanged a look with his mother: he didn’t think that that was too great for some reason, but rather that it was going to be rather ominous - and he was correct... but that is another story.End