Frank and Alice Condition

As the bus screeched to a halt, Alex stepped off, straightened his robes, and made his way to the familiar house at the edge of the village. Before he could knock, a loud voice boomed from inside. "Neville! How many times have I told you not to put specimens in your mouth? Do you not listen?"

Alex smirked. Augusta's temper hadn't mellowed one bit. Chuckling to himself, he knocked on the door. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Augusta in an apron. Despite the lines of exhaustion etched on her face, her expression brightened at the sight of Alex.

"Oh, Alex! It's been ages! Look at you—you've grown taller and more handsome," she said warmly.

"Hello, Mrs. Longbottom. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to visit," Alex replied, offering a polite smile.

"Nonsense, dear. I understand. The year after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named disappeared was absolute chaos. Those lunatics were causing trouble everywhere," she said, her voice faltering as old memories resurfaced. Shaking her head, she quickly changed the subject. "But enough of that. Come in, come in."

As Alex stepped into the house, nostalgia washed over him. The once-bustling home was quieter now, occupied only by Augusta and young Neville. The cheerful atmosphere it once held felt dimmer, weighed down by the absence of Frank and Alice.

In the living room, three-year-old Neville sat on the floor, tears brimming in his wide eyes after Augusta's earlier scolding. At the sight of Alex, an unfamiliar figure, the boy froze, his lip trembling before he burst into loud sobs. Alex winced. This wasn't the first time Neville had cried at the mere sight of him. 'Does he just not like me?' Alex wondered.

"Neville!" Augusta barked, frowning. "Stop that crying. This is Alex Wilson—he held you as a baby! Don't you remember?" Her stern tone only made Neville wail louder, his small frame shaking. Alex held up a hand to calm Augusta.

"Mrs. Longbottom, he's still little. It's normal for him to be shy around strangers," Alex said gently, crouching to Neville's level.

"Hmph." Augusta's frown deepened, but she relented. "The men of the Longbottom family are supposed to be brave and strong, not sniveling cowards. I'm doing this for his own good," she muttered before turning toward the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready soon. Make yourself at home."

As Augusta disappeared, the house fell silent except for Neville's sniffles. Alex sighed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the boy's tear-streaked face. "Neville," Alex began softly, "let's start fresh. My name is Alex Wilson. You can call me brother or uncle, whichever you like. I'm a friend of your parents."

The gentle tone seemed to calm Neville. He peeked up at Alex with wide, curious eyes, the fear fading from his small face. "Are you really friends with my mum and dad?" Neville asked in a small voice. "Do you know where they are? I miss them."

Alex hesitated. The innocence in Neville's question was heartbreaking. Taking a deep breath, Alex sat on the sofa and pulled the boy up beside him. "Your parents are heroes, Neville," Alex said after a moment's thought. "They're very busy right now, but they'll come back to see you when they can."

Neville's small hands gripped Alex's sleeve. "But I miss them. Uncle, can you bring them back? I get scared when they're not here."

Alex froze, the boy's earnest plea cutting deep. He looked into Neville's hopeful eyes and, for a moment, struggled to find the right words. Finally, he nodded. "I promise, Neville. I'll do everything I can to bring them back. You can count on me."

Neville's face lit up. "Really? Pinky promise?" He held up his tiny pinky finger, his tears now replaced with a cautious smile.

Alex smiled back, hooking his pinky around Neville's. "Pinky promise."

That was all Neville needed. Within minutes, he was giggling and playing with his toys at Alex's feet, his earlier tears forgotten. Watching him, Alex felt a mix of warmth and resolve. For Neville's sake, he would keep his promise—no matter what it took.

Augusta, ready for dinner, stepped out of the kitchen and saw Alex and Neville getting along so well. A warm smile spread across her face. She called them over, her voice full of affection. "Dinner's ready, you two. Come and eat."

After dinner, Alex played with little Neville for a while, indulging the boy's boundless energy. When Neville finally grew tired, Alex gently carried him to bed, tucking him in with care before retreating to his own room.

In the days that followed, life settled into a peaceful rhythm. Alex helped Augusta with chores, played with Neville every day, and found comfort in the serene atmosphere. It felt almost like a dream, this little slice of normalcy. 

A few days later, Augusta approached Alex with a thoughtful look. "I'm going to visit Frank and Alice tomorrow. You should come with me. It's been a long time since you've seen them."

Alex had been considering suggesting a visit for some time, but he'd hesitated, knowing how emotionally complex it was for Augusta. Now that she brought it up, he readily agreed. "Of course. I've been meaning to ask about visiting them." He hesitated, glancing toward Neville's room. "What about Neville? Should we take him along, or…"

Augusta shook her head. "There's no need to worry. Frank's cousin, Algie, will be coming over tomorrow. He's Neville's uncle and will take care of him while we're gone. It's too early to explain this to Neville, anyway."

Alex nodded, reassured. Augusta had thought everything through, as always.

The next morning, Alex and Augusta packed up a few things and headed to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Sickness. Frank and Alice were in the Janus Thickey Ward, located on the hospital's fifth floor. The ward, named after a wizard who famously faked his own death by pretending to be eaten by a magical creature and then ran away to live with a Muggle woman.

When they arrived, the ward's door was locked, as usual. Augusta found Merriam, the therapist in charge, and asked her to open it. "Frank and Alice have been quite calm lately," Merriam said with a gentle smile as she unlocked the door. "They've been very sweet."

Alex blinked at the peculiar phrasing but didn't comment. When they entered the room, her choice of words made sense. Frank and Alice looked very different from how Alex remembered them. Strands of gray now streaked their hair, and their faces, once vibrant, seemed worn and weary. Their eyes lacked the spark of recognition or awareness.

"Sweets. I want sweets," Frank mumbled, stretching his hand toward Merriam like a child.

"Alright, Frank. Let's get you a treat." Merriam pulled out a piece of fizzing honeybee candy from her pocket and handed it to him. Her tone was gentle, almost maternal, as though coaxing a toddler.