Chapter 632: Alice Longbottom
Lupin had been in this place for a long time.
The Janus Thickey Ward.
A ward meant for permanent residents, typically kept locked. Most of the patients here had sustained lasting spell damage.
He had some impression of this room, but never expected to deepen that impression by becoming a patient himself. In this room, he always thought of Neville-kun's face, and those two heroic names—Alice and Frank Longbottom, the Aurors tortured into madness by the Cruciatus Curse.
Now, there was another patient in the room; from the Healers, he learned it was the Muggle Junior Minister, Herbert Chorley. He had been hit by a poorly performed Imperius Curse, which left him imitating a duck, much to the public's amusement. On the other hand, when the Healers tried to treat him, he had attempted to strangle three of them, and was currently trying to bludgeon them to death with a bedpan.
Fortunately, it was merely a fit of furious rage, and he was quickly subdued.
The rain outside the window was so heavy it looked as though someone were chucking water against the glass by the bucketful.
Sean stood in the doorway of Lupin's fifth-floor ward, his robes still dripping wet. The grey light of the overcast sky filtered through the windowpanes, illuminating the profile of the subdued Muggle Junior Minister.
Sean paused for a moment, his eyes searching for Lupin.
Lupin was not lying in bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress, his bare feet resting on the freezing stone floor. The hospital gown hung loosely on his gaunt shoulders, and his left hand was still wrapped in thick bandages.
But the instant the door was pushed open, he stood up. With a reflex-like speed that could almost be described as springing to his feet.
Then he saw clearly who had entered.
Lupin's face suddenly brightened in the gloomy light. A kind of almost searing emotion, radiating from deep within, instantly ignited his eyes. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but his throat felt blocked.
"Mr. Green."
The tone he used to say this name was entirely different from before.
Then he did something Sean completely did not expect.
Lupin lowered his head, his chin almost touching his chest. He bowed deeply and solemnly, offering reverence to someone truly worthy of it. His left hand pressed against the chest of his hospital gown, his knuckles turning white from the grip.
"That night," he said, his voice a pitch lower than usual, "If it hadn't been for you—the two of us would be dead."
Sean was stunned. "Mr. Lupin, there was still the Magical Web mirror transfer—"
"There wasn't time." Lupin raised his head.
There was a light in his eyes that Sean had never seen before.
"Only then did I barely realize that there are some things we simply cannot accomplish on our own..."
They hadn't even run into Voldemort; they had only faced his Death Eaters. There used to be only one person in the magical world who could face Voldemort head-on, but he was bound by the future of the entire magical world.
It was on the verge of death that he finally understood. Green... the weight that the name Green carried in this storm-tossed magical world.
He was a gift from above.
The sound of the rain rumbled outside the window. Lightning flashed across the edge of Lupin's bed, illuminating the chart detailing his condition.
[Bed 520 Patient: Admitted in a coma, woke up after three days.]
"I want you to understand... It was the thought of you that gave me the firm resolve to wake up..."
As he spoke, Sean instinctively avoided his eyes. And so, on the bed to the left near the window, he noticed a man.
Frank Longbottom.
Sean recognized him at first glance. Not because he had seen a photograph, but because Neville's face was an exact replica of this one. The same square jaw, the same slightly prominent brow ridge.
But Frank's face was empty. He lay on the pillow, eyes wide open, his gaze resting on the ceiling, as if looking at something, yet seeing absolutely nothing. His lips moved occasionally, but he made no sound.
In the chair beside the bed sat a woman.
Alice Longbottom.
She looked much older than Sean had imagined. Although the contours of her features still retained traces of her youthful elegance, her entire posture was frail and elderly. She sat there, leaning slightly forward, a stack of brightly coloured sweet wrappers resting on her lap.
Her fingers folded endlessly, shaping the sweet wrappers into tiny flower forms, one after another, lining them up neatly on the bedsheet.
Lupin followed Sean's gaze.
At that moment, the ward door was pushed open. A flustered Sirius stood in the doorway, his face beaming:
"Mr. Green—"
Then he noticed Lupin's melancholy expression, and he followed their gaze.
Thus, the ward fell silent.
Two men who had similarly been almost killed by Dark Magic were standing just three steps away from the Longbottoms.
Sean's gaze involuntarily fixed on Frank Longbottom.
"Does he remember anything?"
The words slipped out without passing through his brain, startling even Sean himself.
Lupin's gaze trembled. He walked over to Frank's bed, looking down at the man with empty eyes.
"Nothing at all." He paused, then suddenly added, "He was once one of the finest Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
Alice finished folding another flower. She placed it on the bedsheet, aligning it neatly in a row with the five she had already folded.
Then she raised her head.
Her gaze swept past Lupin, past Sean, without focusing on anything.
But she spoke:
"Has Neville finished school today?"
Her voice was soft and slow. But no one here could answer her. Nor did she wait for an answer.
Her gaze dropped back to the sweet wrappers on her lap, and her fingers resumed folding.
A new flower.
"She asks that every day or two. Always Neville—sometimes she asks when Neville is coming home, sometimes she asks if Neville is wearing enough warm clothes."
Lupin's voice was remarkably calm, but Sean saw his bandaged left hand hanging by his side, his fingers trembling slightly.
"The Healer told me that this sentence is the only thing that still floats up in her mind. Before the Cruciatus Curse obliterated her memories, the very last thing she thought of managed to survive the chaos.
"She thought: Neville is finishing school."
Sirius had not spoken a word.
Then he suddenly broke the silence, his voice hoarse and low:
"Bellatrix, Dolohov, Rookwood, and another bloke I didn't recognize... Four of them."
When he spoke Bellatrix's name, the word sounded like shattered glass being chewed in his mouth.
"When they broke into the Longbottom house, Neville was in his cot in the next room. Frank shut the door and stood in front of it. He didn't run—he could have Apparated away, but he chose not to run, because Neville was right next door."
He paused for a moment.
The sound of the rain outside suddenly grew louder.
Amidst the downpour, Sean heard the fainter-than-faint sound of paper crinkling—Alice had folded yet another flower.