To Hannah and Neville Longbottom, Hogwarts is home. Not in a spiritual, emotional sense. But, in an actual, physical, yes-we-honestly-live-in-a-school sense.
Hannah had been working as the Hogwarts matron for ten months when she fell pregnant, properly this time. After years and years of trying they were going to have a kid. Not just a kid, kids. They were having twins.
Nevile knew he wanted to honour his parents, his grandparent’s. But, he’s heard what it’s like to be named after war heroes. He’s heard from Teddy and James and Fred and Al and Lily.
So, when the twins are born they’re named Alissa Margaret (After Neville and Hannah’s mother) and August Francis (after Neville’s grandmother and father).
Ally and Gus thought they owned the school. Just before their second birthday, their Dad was named Head of Gryffindor and was required to move into the castle permanently. So, they grew up in the castle.
Running down the corridors. Climbing trees on the edge of the forbidden forest. Dipping their toes in the black lake. Sliding down bannisters. Sitting on benches in the kitchen, kicking legs, and licking spoons. Talking with fifth years as they walked to class, and interrupting prefect meetings to give their opinions.
Though they were younger than all the Weasley-Potters (being at least six years younger than Lily Luna) they never seemed to realise it.
They weren’t raised just by their, loving and committed, but by the faculty and the students and most of the shopowners and residents of Hogsmeade.
