Fic: Neville's First Birthday
Title: Neville's First Birthday
Author: drooblesnowords (or, my personal journal antigoneschase)
Summary: Neville's first birthday party (pure fluff for my Ali's Frank frank_auror)
Rating: PG
Neville’s first birthday party was on the Saturday before his actual birthday. There were a great number of people who thanked Merlin for this in the ensuing years, though when it was decided, Alice had had to argue with Augusta for nearly three days over it. Something about celebrating early seemed to sit badly with the older witch. Seemed to almost offend her in fact. But Alice fought and won, and so it came to pass that July 25, 1981 found the Longbottom family gathered around Neville’s first birthday cake.
The cake was shaped like a giant toad (and years later, it would be this, his first birthday cake, that would inspire Neville’s Great Uncle Algie to give him Trevor) and was covered in Slytherin green frosting. Neville’s eyes grew big when the cake was brought out, his pudgy little baby hand reaching out in a “gimmie gimmie” gesture, bouncing in his seat, excited and squealing.
Alice sat the cake down, a little wobbly on her feet. They’d found out two weeks ago that she was pregnant again, and she was a the point that she got exhausted just being alert enough to take care of Neville. Planning a party and putting it on was about the absolute limit of her energy, but she was doing her best to put on a smile and pretend to not be nearly falling over. Especially as Augusta was watching her like a hawk, looking for any sign of weakness to exploit (Or that was how she felt around Frank’s mother, usually).
Frank seemed to notice her slight wobble, and made a big show of pulling her onto his lap and kissing her until they had to draw breath or faint. And just that few minutes being off of her feet gave her the strength to continue. She blushed prettily as she turned on his lap to face the table. It didn’t help that everyone was staring at them, amused expressions on their faces. All but Augusta, who simply “hmm”ed at her son and his wife, waving her wand to make the cake hop a little as Neville’s face had fallen and he looked as if he was going to cry. The spell made him giggle, leaning forward to touch the hopping cake, some of the frosting coming off on his fingers.
“Wipe his fingers, Alice,” Augusta said, frowning when Neville stuck his fingers in his mouth before Alice could get to them. She frowned more when Neville’s little face lit up and he made a small “mmmmmm” sound, then squealed and bounced, reaching for the cake again. “Well, I’ll just..” she started.
“You’ll not,” Alice said softly, raising her hand to stop the flick of the wand, “it’s his birthday, and if he wants to shove both hands into the bloody cake and eat it by the handful, he’ll be allowed.” She didn’t even look back at Frank, knowing that he’d support her completely. Especially where their son was concerned.
“He doesn’t need to-” Augusta said, tutting a little.
“Mother, enough,” Frank said, interrupting her. “Alice said he’s to be free to do as he likes, and I agree.” He gave her almost a sad look. “Let him be a child.”
Alice heard the hurt in his words and leaned back a little against his chest. His mother, while loving, was never very permissive and Alice was of the opinion that it had done more harm than good. Frank was loving and kind, but he was also mature beyond his years, and had been since before she met him.
But today was not the day for hurts. Today was the day for happy baby boys turning one to shove both hands into cakes shaped like toads and beam at his parents, green frosting covering him from end to end. It was a day for a wave of a wand and thirteen little toad cakes jumping off of the main one (and she was careful to give herself and Frank the ones smooshed by baby hands) and onto plates around the table. It was a day for laughter and a sense of peace in a war-torn world.
Hours later Neville was tucked into his cot, and Alice was stumbling and tripping about, trying to clean up the last of the mess from the party when Augusta came downstairs. She sat herself in the chair Alice mockingly called “the throne” to Frank, looking like nothing less than a queen awaiting service. “Alice, come talk with me,” she said finally and Alice nearly flinched, but she did as she was asked, sitting in the chair next to her mother-in-law.
She wasn’t at all prepared for the gentle touch of the other woman’s hand on hers, the small smile that Augusta offered. She knew she must have looked confused, but the older woman simply smiled again. “I realize that your job…” here she paused, obviously displeased, “is dangerous. Very dangerous, in fact. And I just wanted to tell you that should anything happen to Francis, you and Neville always have a place here.”
“Oh,” Alice murmured, a slight touch of panic setting in. Not that she didn’t appreciate the offer, but she couldn’t see herself raising Neville with Augusta constantly peering disapprovingly over her shoulder. And the thought of Frank being gone more than panicked her, it made her stomach rise up in her throat.
“Things happen, dear,” Augusta said, and here her voice was gentle and kind, “I simply want you to be prepared. To not worry overmuch. It’s not good for you, nor is it good for the baby.” At Alice’s look, she smiled. “I’m a mother, Alice. I know the signs.”
“Th-thank you,” Alice murmured, and it seemed suddenly as though some kind of truce had been reached between them. It was tenuous, at best, but it was there.
“Go rest,” the older woman said, her voice taking on the slight hint of coldness again. Then, it softened. “I’ll finish cleaning up.” She scoffed a little at Alice’s amazed look. “I always have liked household spells. Go on now. Don’t make me say it again.”
Alice took an extra second after she stood to kiss her mother-in-law’s cheek before turning to go upstairs. She stopped at the landing and looked back down toward where Frank’s mother sat, and she would have sworn she heard a quiet sigh and a murmured “Dear Merlin, keep my family safe”. She pressed her hand to her heart. “My family,” she said quietly, for the first time feeling a true part of it.
Author: drooblesnowords (or, my personal journal antigoneschase)
Summary: Neville's first birthday party (pure fluff for my Ali's Frank frank_auror)
Rating: PG
Neville’s first birthday party was on the Saturday before his actual birthday. There were a great number of people who thanked Merlin for this in the ensuing years, though when it was decided, Alice had had to argue with Augusta for nearly three days over it. Something about celebrating early seemed to sit badly with the older witch. Seemed to almost offend her in fact. But Alice fought and won, and so it came to pass that July 25, 1981 found the Longbottom family gathered around Neville’s first birthday cake.
The cake was shaped like a giant toad (and years later, it would be this, his first birthday cake, that would inspire Neville’s Great Uncle Algie to give him Trevor) and was covered in Slytherin green frosting. Neville’s eyes grew big when the cake was brought out, his pudgy little baby hand reaching out in a “gimmie gimmie” gesture, bouncing in his seat, excited and squealing.
Alice sat the cake down, a little wobbly on her feet. They’d found out two weeks ago that she was pregnant again, and she was a the point that she got exhausted just being alert enough to take care of Neville. Planning a party and putting it on was about the absolute limit of her energy, but she was doing her best to put on a smile and pretend to not be nearly falling over. Especially as Augusta was watching her like a hawk, looking for any sign of weakness to exploit (Or that was how she felt around Frank’s mother, usually).
Frank seemed to notice her slight wobble, and made a big show of pulling her onto his lap and kissing her until they had to draw breath or faint. And just that few minutes being off of her feet gave her the strength to continue. She blushed prettily as she turned on his lap to face the table. It didn’t help that everyone was staring at them, amused expressions on their faces. All but Augusta, who simply “hmm”ed at her son and his wife, waving her wand to make the cake hop a little as Neville’s face had fallen and he looked as if he was going to cry. The spell made him giggle, leaning forward to touch the hopping cake, some of the frosting coming off on his fingers.
“Wipe his fingers, Alice,” Augusta said, frowning when Neville stuck his fingers in his mouth before Alice could get to them. She frowned more when Neville’s little face lit up and he made a small “mmmmmm” sound, then squealed and bounced, reaching for the cake again. “Well, I’ll just..” she started.
“You’ll not,” Alice said softly, raising her hand to stop the flick of the wand, “it’s his birthday, and if he wants to shove both hands into the bloody cake and eat it by the handful, he’ll be allowed.” She didn’t even look back at Frank, knowing that he’d support her completely. Especially where their son was concerned.
“He doesn’t need to-” Augusta said, tutting a little.
“Mother, enough,” Frank said, interrupting her. “Alice said he’s to be free to do as he likes, and I agree.” He gave her almost a sad look. “Let him be a child.”
Alice heard the hurt in his words and leaned back a little against his chest. His mother, while loving, was never very permissive and Alice was of the opinion that it had done more harm than good. Frank was loving and kind, but he was also mature beyond his years, and had been since before she met him.
But today was not the day for hurts. Today was the day for happy baby boys turning one to shove both hands into cakes shaped like toads and beam at his parents, green frosting covering him from end to end. It was a day for a wave of a wand and thirteen little toad cakes jumping off of the main one (and she was careful to give herself and Frank the ones smooshed by baby hands) and onto plates around the table. It was a day for laughter and a sense of peace in a war-torn world.
Hours later Neville was tucked into his cot, and Alice was stumbling and tripping about, trying to clean up the last of the mess from the party when Augusta came downstairs. She sat herself in the chair Alice mockingly called “the throne” to Frank, looking like nothing less than a queen awaiting service. “Alice, come talk with me,” she said finally and Alice nearly flinched, but she did as she was asked, sitting in the chair next to her mother-in-law.
She wasn’t at all prepared for the gentle touch of the other woman’s hand on hers, the small smile that Augusta offered. She knew she must have looked confused, but the older woman simply smiled again. “I realize that your job…” here she paused, obviously displeased, “is dangerous. Very dangerous, in fact. And I just wanted to tell you that should anything happen to Francis, you and Neville always have a place here.”
“Oh,” Alice murmured, a slight touch of panic setting in. Not that she didn’t appreciate the offer, but she couldn’t see herself raising Neville with Augusta constantly peering disapprovingly over her shoulder. And the thought of Frank being gone more than panicked her, it made her stomach rise up in her throat.
“Things happen, dear,” Augusta said, and here her voice was gentle and kind, “I simply want you to be prepared. To not worry overmuch. It’s not good for you, nor is it good for the baby.” At Alice’s look, she smiled. “I’m a mother, Alice. I know the signs.”
“Th-thank you,” Alice murmured, and it seemed suddenly as though some kind of truce had been reached between them. It was tenuous, at best, but it was there.
“Go rest,” the older woman said, her voice taking on the slight hint of coldness again. Then, it softened. “I’ll finish cleaning up.” She scoffed a little at Alice’s amazed look. “I always have liked household spells. Go on now. Don’t make me say it again.”
Alice took an extra second after she stood to kiss her mother-in-law’s cheek before turning to go upstairs. She stopped at the landing and looked back down toward where Frank’s mother sat, and she would have sworn she heard a quiet sigh and a murmured “Dear Merlin, keep my family safe”. She pressed her hand to her heart. “My family,” she said quietly, for the first time feeling a true part of it.