LVI. THE MEMOIR OF MAWAR
19:09 ─❁────────── 19:79
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❝Hold onto this lullaby,
Even when the musics gone, gone❞
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"THAT'S IT, MY LOVE. THAT is how you create a flower out of paper!"
It was a warm winter night, the 21st of December of 1985 slowly crept its way into their life as they stayed huddled in front of the fireplace, snuggling in each other's arms. Lucia DiFiore was only a mere six-year-old who knew nothing that was about to come.
"Are you sure you want to be doing this? Its been years already,"
Lucia snapped out of her daze as she walked behind the Healer in charge, escorted silently up to the fourth floor of the hospital.
She glanced at the Healer, before flashing the Healer a smile. Was it convincing enough? she didn't know, but she had to put it up or not they would shoo her out out of pure worry. And although she was half-present, and half-wanting to vanish at that moment, she could still sense the overwhelming glances that the Healer would steal at her.
It was uncomfortable.
The Healer was practically studying her every move. Actually — it was suffocating, and the walls were trying to swallow her alive. And it did not help the fact that she already wanted to pass out like she did the last time she entered the said ward.
"You do not need to worry about me, Ms. Healer," said Lucia, masking the hitch of a breath, looking as confident as she could ever be.
"Mama," The little girl called out to her mother as she hopped excitedly on her little feet.
Mawar Lim stared down at her young daughter, gaze softening little by little as her hand was occupied to whisk the cookie dough. She still could not believe how much her little miracle had grown up, from a wee baby that had to stay in the hospital for months after her birth, to a strong little girl who would do nothing but perform failed cartwheels all around the house.
She was proud, and she wished that Florian could see their little girl further into her life more than four years...
"What is it, my love?" Mawar asked endearingly, placing the bowl and whisk down before hoisting little Lucia up to the counter. "Do you need anything? You know Ah-Ma can help, right?"
"But Ah-Ma's too busy with preparing the cendol!" she pouted.
Mawar was about to speak, when her mother interjected herself, "I told you if you keep snitching, you won't be getting cendol!" said Ah-Ma from the other side of the house.
Lucia gasped dramatically, clamping a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as saucers. "Ah-Ma's getting good with English, Mama,"
"I really advise you to not be an enemy of your grandmother, my love," said Mawar wearily, as she could already hear the footsteps of her mother coming into her kitchen.
"Look at Melati, getting all brave, this is Florian's influence I bet!"
"Ma..." Mawar chuckled. Sure, it had been years since the death of her beloved husband, but not one thing could make them forget him who loved them unconditionally. "I think you're getting too comfortable using English..."
"You want to see comfortable?" Ah-Ma said in a threatening voice.
Lucia gasped.
"Mama, RUN!"
"Ma, I'm an adult don't — OUCH — stop — not the senduk!"
"I'm rather curious, Ms. Healer," spoke Lucia, not gazing away from the floor.
"Curious what?"
"Curious as to how you still remember me," she wondered aimlessly, "The... the last time I came her was like, what? Years?" Lucia withered at just the mere memory of the last time she came.
It wasn't a time where she was proud of herself.
The Healer glanced at her, before saying, "We Healers tend to memorise each and every one of the victims' family. Like the Longbottoms for example, they come by yearly, so it wasn't all that hard to recognise Neville Longbottom and his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom..."
"Is Neville here today?" Lucia asked. "I mean, since..."
The Healer casted a faint smile and nodded. "He's here today... Just arrived actually."
"Ma," Mawar called quietly as she stared out of the window, Lucia in her arms, the snow slowly pouring down of Godric's Hollow. "There has to be another reason they went after Florian... There just must be..."
Ah-Ma gazed up from her book as she sat on the rocking chair solemnly at her daughter, "Mawar..."
"And before you say that I'm saying this because I haven't gotten over his death... it's been nearly five years, Mama... you're not all that wrong — but you can't argue the fact it seems too odd,"
"Your father thought of that too before he passed," sighed Ah-Ma. "He told me it was undoubtedly because of our son-in-law's family..."
Mawar crestfallenly sat down on the couch, cradling Lucia in her arm. She looked down achingly at her daughter, squeezing in her embrace. "I remember when we went to go see the DiFiore's, and Mama, the way they looked at our Luciana..."
"I am aware that you wanted so badly for that... 膣屄 —"
"MA!"
Ah-Ma shrugged, "Florian already knew that they — especially that Cons... Consta... Consti —"
"Costantia, Mama,"
"Oh, same thing," Ah-Ma brushed it off, causing Mawar to roll her eyes. "All I am saying is that Florian knew his parents better than anyone, and that was why he was reluctant to bring you and Melati to meet his parents. What do the English people say? A leopard does not change its spots?"
"Rian usually says, 'Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots'..."
"Ah, the English books he had gave me says that..." said Ah-Ma.
"But Ma, I didn't expect them to react with such disgust," Mawar paused. "I was ready for them to react to me that way, but not our daughter. She still has their blood, are they just not content?"
"Mawar, don't you dare consider them exiling Florian and Melati was your fault," said Ah-Ma firmly, but Mawar digressed. "They chose to not accept you and your daughter, what could you have done? That's how prejudice and tainted of a mind they have,"
"But we shouldn't be normalising that whatsoever..." whispered Mawar. "They didn't even bother to come to his funeral..."
Ah-Ma looked up and saw the crystallisation on Mawar's eyes as she propped Lucia into a much more comfortable position as she turned her head to the prominent photo frame upon the fireplace; Mawar's eyes softened sullenly with a tremendous emphasis.
Oh how the time betrayed them so...
"Mawar,"
"Yes, Mama?"
"Why did you suddenly speak of Florian and his death?"
Mawar swallowed the dry lump in her throat and said ominously, "Because something is very off tonight..."
They stepped onto the landing of the fourth floor, coming to an abrupt halt as they stared at the small window into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE. A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.
Lucia furrowed her eyes, not believing her eyes. "Professor...?"
"Ignore him," said the Healer, pushing the door open and hurried her in, shutting the door behind before the former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor could escape. She pulled Lucia away from the man and when they were finally out of ears reach did she asked.
"What happened to him?"
"You didn't know?" Lucia shook her head, puzzled. "Well, Dumbledore actually got him here. Said that there've been some accidents a few years ago and such..."
"Will he be okay — like, is he treatable?" she asked, concern. Lockhart may have not been a good professor, but she would have taken him over Umbridge any day.
The Healer sighed. "Can't say... still a bit foggy there." She said in dismay, "Lockhart's been apart of our long-term resident ward —"
Lucia straightened herself.
"Does that mean — ?"
"No, it does not." The Healer assured, "There's some improvement in Gilderoy for the pass few years and he does seem to be getting back some sense of himself."
"That's a relief..."
"It sure is," They came an abrupt halt when they reached the Janus Thickey ward. She waved her wand and the door swung open before she began leading her further into the the fourth floor.
Lucia watched as there were many visitors coming in for Christmas, visiting their families just like she was, and she wondered...
Were they nervous to seem them as much as she was?
Lucia looked around; the ward had not change since the last time she had visited as it bore unmistakable signs of it being a permanent home to its residents. They had many more personal effects around their beds than in Mr. Weasley's ward; a wall was filled with red instead of the boring white around the bed of an old man whom she did not recognise. Her eyes trailed away nervously as she looked around the place once more.
A sallow-skinned, mournful-looking wizard lay in the bed opposite, staring at the ceiling; he was mumbling to himself and seemed quite unaware of anything around him. Two beds along was a woman whose entire head was covered in fur. At the far end of the ward flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds to give the occupants and their visitors some privacy. She recognised those bed anywhere.
Neville...
"Rose, please be careful with that ring of yours —" shrieked the Healer abruptly.
"Healer Morris, why haven't you taken that bloody necklace from her after all these years?"
They whirled around and was greeted rudely by an awfully irrelevant looking Healer. From what she could tell, Healer Morris was having a tough time biting back a scornful gaze at the other Healer.
"Because, Garrison," began Healer Morris mockingly. "It is not ours to take. It is the patients' belongings, and there aren't a lot of things that can tie them down back when they were still... you know..." she added firmly. "Rosa isn't going to hand over that memento so easily you know?"
"Then use magic," said Healer Garrison said bluntly.
Healer Morris have had enough with him. She rushed over to him and hurried him out of the ward before closing the door shut with a scowl. She then rushed back to Lucia "Don't mind him," she said earnestly.
"He seems a bit..."
"Ignorant? Well, that's what happens when you're colleagues with a prat." Healer Morris snorted. "Anyway," she started, "Come on."
Lucia stood in front of flowery area belonged to a sole person only; the wall around the bed was painted of beautiful yellow that Lucia so much loved, and it was adorned by vines and plants hanging on it so effortlessly with beauty. Photo frames decorated with different photographs that were all too familiar to her filled her eyes. Her heart swelled immensely: It reminded her of home.
The home that was ripped away from her.
On the bed sat a thin yet at the same time, plump woman. Her hair was of ebony black with no strands of white hair in sight. Her smile resembled greatly of her, Lucia noticed, as the woman fiddled around with a silver ring, a dandelion engraved on it with words Lucia couldn't quite understand.
"Ro... Mawar Lim?" called Healer Morris gently. "Your daughter is here to visit you,"
"Mama... Can you sing Papa's song to me?"
Mawar wheeled around from the window, turning her gaze as well to her daughter that jumped giddily on her bed. Mawar smiled softly and grabbed the stuffed bunny that was placed on the wardrobe. "Of course, love. Shall Mr. Bao be with you as well?"
"Yes, please!" Lucia giggled, doing grabbing motion to Mr. Bao.
She remembered all too vividly of how the name came to be... How they were all so complete and so happy, without any tragedy becoming apart of their chapter in their story.
Lucia hurriedly scrambled up on Mawar's lap, nuzzling her face into her mother's chest comfortably, smiling widely as an innocent child would be after her mother sank on her bed. Mawar mirrored her daughter's smile... The smile that brought a thousand of memories racing through her mind...
Despite being the carbon copy of her, that smile of hers would always belong to her Florian...
She patted her back rhythmically, "You say Papa's song, but which one?"
"There's only one song that Papa sang to me!" argued Lucia. "You know... the one that went... that went..."
"La mia melodia?"
"Sì!" giggled Lucia.
Mawar chuckled softly, "My clever girl," she tapped her nose endearingly. "Alright, Mama will try as best as she can, okay?"
"Mama's always the best! Sing! Sing!"
"Okay, here I go..." Lucia bounced excitedly, waiting for her mother when finally, the dulcet melodies of her voice reached her ears:
"Close eyes, it's time now,
sleep my love..."
As she sang, it was as though her husband was by her side, singing with her to their daughter. Not once had she shed a tear whenever she reminisced the time she had with her husband whilst singing his lullaby, however, there was an odd pit in her stomach that made it heart-wrenching to her as to this moment.
As if... this would be the last time she was to ever sing it...
And the thought made her choke.
"You will be the most beautiful light,
my melody,
lost in a dream,
you are mine
you will hear that one day he will find me again.
Do not be afraid,
I will never leave you again.
We will meet again one day,
if the heart allows:
You will be the voice that one day guide me..."
Sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, Lucia rose her puzzled gaze to her mother, only to be met by her crying. Lucia widened her little eyes in panic, before attempting to wipe her mother's tears away, saying, "Don't cry, Mama... Don't cry...."
"I'm sorry, my love. Your mama is acting like a cry baby today..." sniffled Mawar, hugging Lucia's tiny frame tightly.
"It's okay, even Mama can cry — Mama told Lucie that — that big girls can cry! So Mama can cry too!"
"Oh, my dear Luciana..." Mawar gazed at her daughter. She couldn't bear it if something were to happen to her...
"It's okay, Mama..." Lucia patted her mother's back comfortingly, "Lucie is here, Mama..."
"And Mama will be here for Lucie too,"
Lucia looked back to Mawar excitedly. "Really?"
Mawar laughed. "Of course! Would Mama ever lie to her sweet flower?"
Lucia shook her head slowly. "But — Mama has to promise Lucie that!" said the little girl sternly, and Mawar couldn't help but laugh endearingly at this.
She shook her head and had her pinky out to Lucia, "Fine. Mama will promise to the dandelions that Mama will stay by her Lucie's side for forever!"
The little girl stared at her mother; eyes suspicious before she broke into fits of giggles. "Okay, Mama! Lucie will believe you!"
"I know you would have," Mawar said, pressing a chaste kiss on Lucia's forehead, causing Lucia, in turn, to give her a kiss on her nose.
"There! Now Mama is like Lucie!" said Lucia. "Kissy on the nose, but Mama kissy Lucie on here!" she patted her forehead.
"Yes..." Mawar smiled, "I guess we are the same, huh?"
Their little moment was soon cut off as the door creaked open, revealing Ah-Ma in all her glory, holding a tray with three bowls of what looks to an iced sweet dessert containing with little droplets of green rice flour jelly, coconut milk and palm sugar syrup.
"I see my two favourite people are still up?" said Ah-Ma, placing down the tray on the bedside.
"Ma, it's so late already and didn't I told you that Melati cannot have sugar this late?" eyed Mawar.
"Ah, you're being fussy," said Ah-Ma. "It's already twelve o-clock, which means it is little Melati's birthday, she deserves a little... what do they say..."
"Ah-Ma!" Lucia sat on her kness obediently but couldn't contain her excitement when she saw the dessert bowl. "It's leeway!"
"Yes! Clever you are, Melati!" Ah-Ma praised. "Now, here is you bowl of cendol, just like you wished — ah, Mawar!"
"Hmm?" Mawar reverted her gaze from Lucia to her mother, tilting her head in confusion. "What is it?"
"I was thinking of what cake should be back tomorrow?"
Mawar blinked, before she smiled warmly. "Well, that is up to Melati. Isn't that right, Lucie?"
"Sì!" said Lucia eagerly, as Mawar wiped her messy mouth with a napkin. "But — but Lucie wants a big chocolate cake!"
"And here I was, thinking that I'll finally get my pandan cake..." said Ah-Ma jokingly.
"Ah-Ma, pandan cakey is for old people only! It's icky!"
Mawar snorted.
"Now who told you that?"
Lucia, with utter confidence, said, "A-kong!"
"Ah, that bastard..." Ah-Ma squinted her eyes, "Even after death he is still bothering my pandan cake..."
Mawar shook her head. "A-kong said that because he hates pandan, Lucie,"
"He does? But then... then it's for a good reason!"
"There is no good rea —"
BOOM!
Lucia screamed; Mawar instantly shielded her daughter; Ah-Ma stood up instantly.
"Shhh, calm down," said Mawar, but the shakiness in her voice made it fairly evident of how scared she was. Not for her, but for her mother and her child. "MA, DONT!"
"Mawar —"
"Ma, y-you're not a witch like me. Let me go instead!"
"Mama... Ah-Ma..." Lucia didn't know what was going, but she was scared to death
"MAWAR!"
"JUST HIDE AND PROTECT LUCIA!"
And that was the last thing Lucia DiFiore heard before everything fell apart...
Mawar Lim rose her head slowly at the call of her name and in an instant, Lucia couldn't help but feel a deafening sound of a ring in her ear as she stood frozen before her; it had been way too long since she had seen her mum. Her Mama. Her heart clenched just staring down at the once radiant night eyes that light had been ripped away by those who pained them. Now, all she could see was the abyss that was slowly swallowing her up whole.
"Warning: your mother is still a bit... well, frankly, she hasn't been listening to any of us for years. So, I would say she's slightly fragile —"
"I get what you mean, Healer Morris. I just need to talk to her," said Lucia bracingly, fiddling with her peony locket as her breath went rag.
Healer Morris looked hesitantly at her, before nodding. "Call me when you're done or if you need anything, alright?"
Lucia nodded absentmindedly, not wavering her eyes from her mother. She could cry — she would literally cry if it weren't for her perseverance in keeping those tears suck into her eyes, unlike how it was these last few days, but even then, as she took a couple more steps to her mum, she knew that it was nearly possible to do so; streaks of crystal clear tears watered down her cheeks. She could barely support herself when a hand softly parted her curtained hair. It was then she realised that it wasn't a mere someone, but her mama.
Mawar smiled at her softly as she parted strands of her ebony hair from her daughter's face, reminded of the time in which she had done many times in the past. Once she was content, she stared at Lucia with her dreamy eyes, in which was filled the dull constellations of a burnt-out stars. She patted the space beside her.
Hesitantly, Lucia sat down.
"Ma — Mum. I mean... Mum, how are you doing?" Lucia asked, shifting uncomfortably in where she sat.
Mawar blinked. "Ma..."
Lucia tilted her head to the side, "Ma...?"
"Ma...ma." Mawar pointed at herself, "Mama only,"
"But —"
"Mama."
"Mama..." Lucia's hand shook as it slowly turned clammy. Her legs bounced nervously as she fiddled with the cuffs of her jumper, "H-How have you been? Okay, I hope? I've been... I've been doing a little bit better since the last time we saw each other..."
Mawar smiled. "Mama," she pointed at herself dreamily, "Be...tter..."
Lucia's eyes shimmered. "T-That's good! That's great actually!" she said, never been happier to hear that. Though, it wasn't enough to erase the guilt she was going through as she wilted. "Um, Mama, c-can I talk to you?"
"Mama... always... talk..." Mawar rested a hand over Lucia's, surging a wave of comfort into the younger girl. "Mama... Luciana..."
As warmth rushed through her body, Lucia gathered the courage to say, "I'll... I'll say this first, but, uh, the world has been playing a game of chance with me these days, but... it's not all that bad I guess... there were some good stuff out of it too..."
Her mum quirked her head, closing her eyes, smiling, intrigued.
"You see, I'm in my fifth-year right now — Gryffindor, Papa would've probably be puking just at the mere thought of it — and I met a couple of pretty nice people there..." started Lucia, "Well, I met them later than I expected, but I'm still am glad. For some odd reason, most of them are redheads... I've never seen so many redheads in all my life before,"
At this, as though she could understand it, Mawar giggled.
Lucia blushed. "Also, I've met this really great guy. I guess he could be deem as one of my greatest friend, which is quite surprising seeing as having a friend that stuck by you for more than a year is already hard enough... I-I'm really excited to tell that I got into Gryffindor's Quidditch team as well..."
"Quid...ditch?" Mawar asked, and Lucia nodded vigorously.
"Yeah! But it isn't permanent, so there isn't as much pressure on my shoulders than how Ron and the others have! I'm only filling for the Seeker position because the real one got himself banned —"
As if amused, Mawar quirked a brow.
Then, Lucia pursed her lips. "You were probably worried, weren't you this whole time? The fact that I haven't even visited you even though you cared for me for as long as you could — the fact that your own daughter didn't even make an effort to visit you? Frankly, I'm surprise how you could still welcome me with open arms," she said, "If it were me, I would have already shooed myself a way..."
Mawar didn't say anything.
"I've been thinking of myself all these years that I've forgotten the one that had been effected the most... You were probably worried sick for your daughter that was left to be cared by people you didn't even know..." Lucia breathed, "I mean, your worries would totally be valid since, well, reasons..." she added quietly, hoping that Mawar didn't capture that.
Lucia felt as though she was rushing, and she was. All the years that had gone by... all of the years that her mum had missed on her life... She needed to recap them all into one moment, and she wasn't even sure how long until the others decided to find her, and frankly she didn't want to receive any looks of pity from her friends. Being treated differently because of something unfortunate in her life was the last thing she wanted.
"I-I'm —"
However, her words were cut short; Mawar instinctively felt the obligation to comfort her daughter as she reached her hand out to cup her daughter's cheeks, tracing her thumb over the tears that escaped the frame of her phoenix eyes. She already was aware of what she was about to say, and Mawar didn't think that there was anything to apologise for.
There was really no need for that, for she had already seen her trying to visit her before.
Despite knowing how she wasn't all that right in the mind; it didn't mean that she wasn't conscious anymore. Her mind was slowly evolving back to what it used to be before... that day. She had watched many times when her daughter did visit her, and the look of horror every time she was to enter the ward — the hospital in general, it brought an expression that simply haunted her dreams.
Forcing her into torture was the last thing Mawar wanted to do to her one and only treasure.
Mawar didn't held any resentment toward her daughter, for she understood. If it were hard for her, she could imagine how hard it was forher daughter. The most daunting moment in her life so happen to be in this said hospital, it would've been extremely surprising if she did come out of it all with no trauma whatsoever. However, Mawar was also grateful that she had finally found the courage to visit her again.
She was proud.
"No..." she shook her head. Mawar hated how limited she was being, but she knew one day she will have the reunion with her daughter that she had long been waiting for all these years. "Luciana... okay... no sorry..."
"But —"
"Lucie... did great..." Mawar said, pulling Lucia into her embrace.
Lucia's breath hitched. She had forgotten how different it was when being held by her mum. It was as though she was hugging a warm cloud, cosy, comfy and for once, at home. She had never thought the day she would be in her mum's arms would ever come, for it was like a distant dream that she could only experience if she kept on dreaming. But feeling it for the first hand, the weight she held on to her shoulders for all these years felt as though it was coming undone.
With a simple gesture that felt like everything, Lucia had never felt so vulnerable before.
And before she knew it, tears began to escape the cages of her eyes. She wailed into Mawar's arms, like a baby that just woke up from their nap and only wanted their mother to cradle them in their arms for comfort. The lost of time was compensated by the universe to her and her mum, as if it was the easiest of all feat.
Why didn't they do it in the first time? Why did they have to wait all this years just to reach this stage of their lives?
Was worth it?
She wasn't sure. She thought that this should have happened sooner than later.
Even as the stars were aligning for her, was she satisfied?
After crying in her mum's arms, Lucia dangled her legs as she laid her head on Mawar's chest. Mawar didn't say anything, she was content that finally had her daughter back in her arms.
She didn't have many people anymore, but Lucia was her world. And now, her world was back in her arms.
"S-Say, Mum..." Mawar casted a stern gaze, but Lucia didn't see it as she occupied herself with playing with her locket, "I think I need some advice. Maybe it's like a romantic advise, which I think it is since I'm fairly rubbish at it... but there's this guy, his name is Harry and he's been my friend for a while now..."
Mawar gazed blankly at Lucia, interested.
Lucia's ears slowly reddened. "He's a pretty great guy," her voice cracked, causing Mawar's eyes to widen. "I mean, sure he does have flaws — who doesn't? But somehow he crept his way into my heart, and I don't know what to do."
"I know, I know, you'll probably tell me that I should just go for it, but he likes someone else already. They even kissed! And as much as I want to move on, I just can't." Lucia paused for a moment, her mind drifting back to Harry. "We've had our upside downs, but really, it wouldn't be life if there were no upsides and downs, right? I really like this guy, but what am I supposed to do?" Lucia laughed dryly to herself; of course, there would be no answer, but it was slightly a relief to her.
But Mawar had other plans as she raised her hand slowly but surely, pointing at over her heart, though not speaking. When Lucia raised her gaze to the woman's eyes, something was written in the dark and dull sky full of stars. Was she, perhaps, telling her that it all came to her heart?
She really needed to read on how her mum had come to accept the fact that she fell in love with her dad, because she was just confusing.
Regardless, Lucia managed a small giggle, her blotchy eyes threatening tears to fall once more. It was embarrassing to even think of how many times she had been crying since the last D.A. meeting...
"I really missed you," said Lucia, voice muffled into Mawar's shoulders delicately. "I missed you... Papa... Ah-Ma... and A-kong..."
"Us... still have... each other..." said Mawar softly.
Lucia nodded. "You're right, we still have eavh other. I mean, I hope that one day we can be with each other again, Mama. I really don't want you to miss out on anything more anymore — so please, don't leave just yet. Please don't leave me alone in this world. Not until I get my life together first. Please." She held onto her mum's hand, fearing that if she were to let go, she would be losing her again.
"I... will... not... leave... again..." Mawar promised.
And this time, she was going to make sure that she wasn't going to break that promise.
After a few more minutes of spending time with her mum, Lucia finally decided it was best to leave. She bid her mum farewell, albeit she found it harder to do it after pouring all her feelings — needless to say, she was not the only one that was about to leave.
The curtains had been drawn back from the two beds at the end of the ward and two visitors were walking back down the aisle between the beds: a formidable-looking old witch wearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur, and a pointed hat decorated with what was unmistakably a stuffed vulture and, trailing behind her looking thoroughly depressed — Neville.
Lucia contemplated her choices before winging it; she approached the two with a warm and welcoming smile. "Hi," she greeted.
Neville glanced up at the familiar voice and was stunned to see who it was.
"Lucia?"
"You know this girl?" his grandmother asked him as she stared down at the girl formidably. Neville nodded.
"Um... Sorry to intrude — I was also just visiting — anyway, I'm a friend of Neville. Lucia DiFiore." She greeted the woman politely.
Mrs. Longbottom took a double take before recognising the girl immediately. It was because she looked awfully like an acquaintance of hers. Her eyes softened tremendously. "You... you are the daughter of the late Florian DiFiore and the incapacitated Rose Lim, aren't you?"
Meekly, Lucia nodded. "I'm actually visiting my mother,"
"Ah, yes, Rose. Nice woman," sighed Mrs. Longbottom.
Neville was still comprehending of the fact that Lucia had finally gathered all her strength and courage to visit her mother that she had been avoiding all these years. He recalled the last time she visited, and the anguishing scene caused so much turmoil within him that he thought it would have been the same with his parents.
Her visiting her mum all the sudden came to him in a shock.
He stared between the girl, and the woman that was playing an everlasting game of chess by herself, before he stared back at Lucia. How did she —
"Neville!"
The three wheeled around at the sound of the voice and Lucia wanted to dig herself a grave when she was directly faced with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione at the entryway of the ward. They stared back Lucia in shock to see her at such area of the hospital. Harry was the first to react.
"Lucia?" his voice was as though it was echoing around the room, but it wasn't. It was merely the figment of her imagination.
While the others were still loading of her presence, Ron wasted no time to show how tactless he was.
"It's us, Neville!" said Ron brightly, getting to his feet. "Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting? Blimey Lucia, we've trying to find you everywhere —"
"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon them all.
Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them. Lucia didn't blame him since she was doing the same thing as he was.
"Ah, yes," said his grandmother, peering at Harry, who had been staring at Lucia with a puzzled look. She then stuck out a shriveled, clawlike hand for him to shake. "Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you."
"Er — thanks," said Harry, shaking hands. Neither of the teenagers were looking at him; Neville was staring at his own feet, the color deepening in his face all the while. Lucia simply was studying the many painting on the wall, as though she was examining it like a professional artist.
"And you two are clearly Weasleys," Mrs. Longbottom continued, proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. "Yes, I know your parents — not well, of course — but fine people, fine people... and you must be Hermione Granger?"
Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew her name but shook hands all the same.
"Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy," she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville, "but he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say..." And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly.
"What?" said Ron, looking amazed (Harry wanted to stamp on Ron's foot, but that sort of thing was much harder to bring off unnoticed when you were wearing jeans rather than robes). "Is that your dad down the end, Neville?"
Lucia cursed at Ron's lack of observation of the mood in the room. Mrs. Longbottom, however, was appalled that they did not know of the Longbottoms condition.
"What's this?" said Mrs. Longbottom sharply. "Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?"
Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and shook his head. Her heart ached for him, knowing that out of anyone, she could relate to him the most with. But he was the most upset than anyone in the room, for he could not find away to answer his grandmother.
"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" said Mrs. Longbottom angrily. "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!"
"I'm not ashamed," said Neville very faintly, still looking anywhere but at Harry and the others. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds.
"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" said Mrs. Longbottom. "My son and his wife," she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Lucia, "were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers."
Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parents and looked mortified. Lucia looked down to her black flats in dismay.
"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the Wizarding community," Mrs. Longbottom went on. "Highly gifted, the pair of them. I — yes, Alice dear, what is it?"
Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge, and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions toward Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand.
"Again?" said Mrs. Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. "Very well, Alice dear, very well — Neville, take it, whatever it is..."
But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Blowing Gum wrapper.
"Very nice, dear," said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder. But Neville said quietly, "Thanks Mum."
His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but none of them did.
"Well, we'd better get back," sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now..."
But as they left, Lucia was sure Neville had slipped the wrapper into his pocket. Subconsciously, Lucia reached the poppy pendant.
"I never knew," said Hermione, who looked tearful.
"Nor did I," said Ron rather hoarsely.
"Nor me," whispered Ginny.
"I did," he said glumly. "Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't mention it... that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds."
"Bellatrix Lestrange did that?" whispered Hermione, horrified. "That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?"
They all looked at Lucia, who looked at the endless corridors in a trance, rubbing her eyes that they now realised was blotchy and red.
"Luce," Harry called softly.
"Hmm?" she hummed.
"What were you doing here?"
Her hand rose from its limping state as she pointed over to the dreamy woman in the ward that was playing a game of chess on her own, clapping at her winning occasionally. It took a moment for them to understood before both Hermione and Ginny gasped once more; Ron stared at the woman, and then at Lucia. From the hair to her nose... the resemblance was uncanny...
Harry drifted his eyes away from the woman, frozen in place.
"I was visiting my mum" she said hoarsely. "Her name's Mawar, but she goes by Rose around here. Doesn't she look sweet? Well, she's not when she brings out the shoe."
Hermione was the first to speak, "But you said your mum was —"
"I said I was raised by a family that adopted me and that only my Ah-Ma died, but I never said that my mum was dead. My dad? Yes. My Grandfather? Hell yeah. My Grandmother? Yup. My mum? Never. She's still here in this cruel world with all of us, but I'm sure she's much happier than we all are, blissfully ignorant of what's going on," Lucia said as she flashed them a small and weak smile.
"W-What happened to her?" Ron asked abruptly, yet carefully.
Ginny, Hermione, and Harry glared at him, but Lucia did not mind it at all as she answered Ron.
"I was really young at that time, but I can remember it pretty well. Yadda, yadda... Death eaters, yadda, yadda... they broke in... yadda, yadda... the Unforgivable Curse... yadda, yadda... the way she's right now," Lucia said vaguely. She didn't think she could talk about it without breaking down right there and then.
He felt itchy all around; Harry wanted to pull her in his embrace, assuring her that she will no longer have to go through this alone now that they were here, but he didn't. After knowing Lucia for all these years, he felt guilty for not even bothering to learn more about her past.
"Don't look at me like that," said Lucia dryly.
All four of them gazed at her incredulously.
"Don't look at me with those annoyingly pitiful eyes — it was one of the many reasons that I never told anyone," she sighed. "Look, I know you probably feel guilty for not knowing this, but I deliberately didn't say anything about my family's situation because I refuse to be a receiver of pity that I just don't think I deserve. Please treat me like you always do and... and don't make me regret telling you this."
Somehow, Harry felt as though it was more directly to him than it was for anyone else. Today, he learnt many things. And one of the very few things he learnt was that not everyone is what they seem to be, and Lucia was no exception. Behind those innocent masks they wore, lay dormant a person with a heartbreaking story that they were reluctant to share. And they were strong for having kept it all to themselves for so long. Neville... Lucia... both were stronger than they made themselves out to be, and the people that underestimated them will soon find themselves in a regretful position one day.
One way or another.
But he didn't want her to be all alone now. Soulfully, he pledged: Never will she have to walk down the path alone anymore.
"C'mon," said Lucia, breaking the silence. "Let's go back,"
She interlocked her hands around Ginny's and Harry's hand before guiding them back from this unforgettable trip that taught them more than they thought they needed to