The hospital room was so quiet that only faint sobs could be heard.
Alice's thin, cold hand still rested against Neville's cheek.
The boy's lips trembled. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a shaky breath.
He barely dared to move, afraid this was a dream and the slightest motion would wake him. He only clasped his mother's hand between both of his and nodded hard.
Beside the bed, Augusta slowly loosened her grip on its iron rail.
The old woman turned away and quickly wiped her eyes with her gray sleeve. When she turned back, her spine was straight again. Only the faint redness around her eyes betrayed that she had cried.
Vittel quietly retreated to the wall, summoned a fresh sheet of parchment with the Summoning Charm, and began taking careful notes with his quill.
Gavin stepped aside too, leaving room for the family.
"I'm in my third year now... Mum."
Neville finally caught his breath. Holding Alice's hand, he began telling her about Herbology again.
He had spent so long talking to an unresponsive shell. Now, though the eyes that had been clouded for twelve years moved slowly, they were truly fixed on his face.
He told her again about life at Hogwarts, his favorite subject, Herbology, the soil in the greenhouses, and the dancing flower seedling Professor Sprout had given him.
Alice's cracked lips moved faintly. After a long while, she managed a few broken syllables:
"...Do you... like it... there...?"
"I do! I really do, Mum!" Neville answered at once, speaking much faster than usual. "Professor Sprout says I've got a good feel for how seeds behave. Even the older students ask me how to divide Dittany..."
Only after he finished did the boy realize he was gripping his mother's bloodless