Neville Longbottom sighed and tugged at the collar of the dress robes his grandmum had stuffed him into. "We must look special for your father," she said in the voice that always sounded like a chicken clucking. Of course the hat on her head didn't help quell that vision any, what with the long ostrich feathers flailing over the brim to her shoulder. Gran was always worried about him looking good for his father. She never once mentioned his mother. There were times when he wondered why.
The eleven-year-old boy was tired. He didn't want to go to St. Mungo's to see his parents. He wanted to go back to Hogwarts, the only place he felt comfortable. Gran was always so demanding of him. He understood that she was only wishing for him to be as good as his father had been.
Had been, before the Death Eaters had tortured him and Neville's mother with the Cruciatus curse. Before they lost all memory of their son. It always pained Neville to see them, how neither one recognized him. However, he did have lots to tell them on this trip. He was sure his father would be proud that he was a Gryffindor. Perhaps Mum would like that he was passing Herbology. He wasn't going to mention the Remembrall, though.
Gran pulled him into the Floo and in a puff of green smoke they were standing in the huge Foo of the hospital. Neville let his grandmother pull him through the corridors, his mind on what he was going to say so he wouldn't sound completely silly. As always, she slowed her pace the closer they got to ward forty-nine. He looked up to see the huge doors looming before them.
He heard his grandmother choke back a sob before reaching out and pushing the doors open forcibly. He knew she still loved his father. With a sigh, he followed her in and made his way towards the beds in which his parents were lying.
"You have visitors!" a petite nurse spoke up from a chair between their beds.
Alice lifted her head and looked towards the doors, not seeing that Neville was standing right there beside her. The nurse stood and moved so that he could sit in the chair she had been occupying. He looked to see Gran tending to his father, so he turned the chair towards his mother.
Laying a hand on her arm to get her attention, he smiled. "Hello, Mum. You look nice today."
The round-faced woman with gray hair turned to look at him. Confusion briefly flashed across her features. She was wearing a green sweater over her pajamas, one that he had given her last Christmas. Her hands dug into her pockets and she pulled out several gum wrappers, handing them to him. He took them, as always, and stuffed them into his own pockets.
"Thanks, Mum. Gran has your gift. I wanted to tell you that I'm passing Herbology. Professor Sprout says I'm a natural." He continued on, telling her about his time at Hogwarts.
Alice listened to every word, hanging on to each one as if they were precious gems. To her, they were. The majority of her mind was torn apart, except for one small bit. This area held her memories of Neville. It was normally locked shut, a place she couldn't get into for some reason. However whenever he was around, the door opened and the memories flooded into her mind.
Neville paused to take a breath, having just told her about knowing Harry Potter and being friends with him. He looked up and saw something different in her eyes, something he'd never seen before. It looked like... love, recognition, sympathy?
"Neville!"
His grandmother's shrill voice caused him to blink and loose eye contact with his mother. When he focused again, everything he had seen was gone. He frowned deeply. "Yes, Gran," he replied with a sigh.
"Time to speak to your father. Hurry up now so that we can leave." She turned and stormed towards the nurse's station, obviously to complain as always.
He moved over to his father's bed. His father was a bit worse off than his mother was. Neville hated looking into his pale, gaunt face. "I'm a Gryffindor, Dad," he said, not knowing how else to start the one-sided conversation. "Thought you might be proud to know that."
He was startled to feel two hands on his shoulders. His mother had stood from her bed and was leaning towards him. She kissed his cheek and smiled brightly at him. He blinked in confusion as she took one of his hands and placed it over his father's. She gripped both their hands tightly.
Neville was speechless. His mother was communicating somehow. He glanced around for his grandmother and saw her striding back towards them. Before he could open his mouth, his mother had moved back to her bed, the usual wild look back in her eyes. He looked from side to side, wondering what had just happened. Had he been dreaming?
"Have you finished?" Augusta asked as she approached. To Neville's nod, she continued. "Tell them good-bye. We'll see them again soon."
He looked down at his father. His eyes were still unseeing. "Good-bye, Dad," he said softly. Turning towards his mother, he saw her smiling. "Good-bye, Mum." He blinked a moment, swearing that he'd just seen his mother wink at him. His grandmother grabbed his arm and pulled him from the ward. He followed along behind, still looking at his mother. "I love you, Mum," he whispered.
Neville awoke with a start, sitting up and looking around the unfamiliar room in which he was sleeping. He could still remember the look of recognition on his mother's face. He'd never seen it again. Maybe, just maybe, one day she would be healed and smile at him like that again.
He lay back down, staring at the ceiling. There was a loud croak and he saw Trevor sitting on his chest. He reached out and ran a finger over the toad's head. "I think I'm going to make something for Mum this year, Trevor. What do you think?"
The toad merely croaked in response. Neville took that to be acceptance. "Right. We'll get on that first thing in the morning." With a bright smile on his face, he drifted back to sleep.