"Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad," Neville said mournfully, hugging each of them. "I'll visit soon- I promise. I

love you." He smiled at his parents, and left the room with his grandmother. He felt the anger rising

again, not at them, but that Bellatrix Lestrange might soon be on the loose, and he couldn't do

anything. If there was anything he could ever do to get back at that woman, he would do it. All he

wanted was to make her pay for the pain she had caused… His thoughts were disrupted buy a

woman's voice.

"And – oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?" He blinked, clearing his head but then, -

"Neville!" He jumped, than shrank back, cursing his foolishness. They would talk to him now, he

didn't want to explain. As Harry and the rest talked with his grandmother, Neville felt himself turning

a dull purple color, they were getting closer to the inevitable.

"What's this?" His grandmother rounded on him. "Haven't you told your friends about your parents,

Neville?" He took a deep breath, looked up, and shook his head. He could feel their eyes on him.

Harry was probably pitying him, the rest were in disbelief. His grandmother was scolding him.

Neville spoke softly, anger seeping into his consciousness.

"I'm not ashamed." Why did she always do that? It was hard enough to be accepted without the

pity. Neville sighed inwardly, not paying attention to the rest. He saw his mother edging towards

them in her nightgown. He could tell she was intimidated by grandmother. Her wispy white hair,

floated behind her. His mother stretched out her hand to give him something. His hand was there,

taking it from her, grasping her hand to reassure her, for a moment, she looked almost normal, soft

blue eyes clearing on seeing him, just for a moment before re-clouding. It was another Drooble's

gum wrapper, folded into a flower, though lopsided. His grandmother didn't know what it meant to

him and his mother, so she scorned. She used to enchant the bubbles when she blew them so that

they grew big enough to amaze baby Neville. It was one of the last happy memories, the last time

being the night they were tortured into insanity.

"Do you like that, Nevvie?" his mother cooed sweetly to the one year old as he giggled. She

blew another bubble, than poked it with her wand. It began changing colors to amuse him.

His father watched, light dancing in his eyes, as his mother, blowing another bubble, folded

the bright gum wrapper into a paper flower. Baby Neville gurgled happily, reaching for the

wrapper. His mother smiled, handing it to him. The door flew open, revealing Bellatrix

Lestrange, wand in hand. His mother knew what would happen next. "I love you, Nevvie,"

she said sadly, turning to face Bellatrix. "You can't have him," she declared. Neville watched

his parents being tortured, and his mother met his eyes once more before the clouded in hazy

confusion. When the Aurors got there, it was too late, and they found his parents

unconscious, and the little baby clutching a brightly colored gum wrapper flower.

"Thanks, Mum," he whispered. Her eyes met his, in silent apology. She was sorry, and so was he.

Sadly, he watched his mum walk back to her bed, humming. He glared at the others, daring them to

laugh, if they did, he would… do something. Defiant of his grandmother's words, he slipped the

precious paper flower into his pocket. He was quiet the whole way home. He brushed past his

grandmother, and he fled to his room. His grandmother never touched his room, preferring to leave

him alone. He clambered up on his bed, laying down and gazing at the spot where he had just

placed the brightly colored flower on the last blank spot on the ceiling.