St. Mungo's was not known for being quiet, as many of its patients tended to babble or scream, whether from lunacy or agony, it was always rather noisy overall. However when Neville stepped over the threshold of his parent's permanent home that day, it felt as if the volume was turned down. His grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, shuffled behind him, looking more pleased than she'd ever appeared in Neville's presence, for even she had reason to be proud of him on this day.
"Mum, Dad," Neville called softly, a quiet tone of excitement in his voice. Alice Longbottom sat up straighter on the floor, a smile blossoming on her face. She looked absolutely filthy, but her shining toothy smile gleamed up at her son despite not knowing exactly who he was. Between her criss-crossed legs lay a pot where she seemed to have been repotting tiny sprouts, not quite budding yet. Frank Longbottom who sat on the bed directly behind her stared in absolute rapture over her shoulder at what she had managed to do.
Watching his happy oblivious parents, Neville found it hard to say what he'd come to say. He hadn't seen his parents in nearly a year, after his gran had had to go into hiding, forcing Neville to stay at Hogwarts for any holidays when he normally would've come to visit. His relief to see they were still safe and alright ― as alright as someone mentally-tortured can be ― was immense and yet the words wouldn't come out. He wanted to tell them about the battle at hogwarts, about Harry Potter coming back from the dead and defeating You-Know-Who; about the Sword of Gryffindor coming out of the Sorting Hat for him marking him as a true Gryffindor; about killing You-Know-Who's snake; and about seeing their torturer Bellatrix Lestrange killed right before his eyes by an Order of the Phoenix member, an organization they had both fought for valiantly during the First Wizarding War.
"Thank you, dearest." Augusta said gently, taking the newly potted plant when the smiling woman offered it. Neville smiled wearily, looking about the room. There were potted plants sitting wherever space allowed, filling the room with a thick musky smell that reminded him greatly of a funeral.
"Oh goodness, another one, Alice, dear?" Chortled the squat healer witch that came bustling in with more pots and a watering can tottering precariously in her chubby arms. "You'll run out of room soon at this rate!" Alice didn't appear to understand what was said however, as she just smiled sweetly in the healer's direction, happy to see more pots to fill.
Augusta straightened up importantly, snagging the healer's attention with a rough prod. "Why is she doing all this?" She lowered her voice significantly and ventured, "Is she getting worse?"
"Oh my heavens, no!" The healer said smiling sadly at Alice, "Its true we can't do much to fix her mind but she hasn't gotten any worse. I see this as a bit of an improvement, actually!" The little witch handed over the pots to the elated Alice who couldn't seem to wait for the conversation to be over to have her newest pots. "You see, a while back, you boy, yes you," she pointed at Neville who stared awestruck, "You brought that dreadful looking plant ― green and bulbous and pulsing, covered in boils ― ghastly thing, really ― " She recalled with distaste.
"Oh ― the Mimbulus Mimbletonia!" Neville said at once, recognizing the description immediately. After being sprayed with its gooey green Stinksap it is certainly a hard plant to forget. "What about it?"
"Yes well," The witch continued, "After you brought that Mimbo― Mumba ― that ghastly thing ― Mrs. Longbottom became very fond of plants. We try to clear them all out before visitors come so its not quite so messy but there has been a lot of celebrating since we heard the news from Hogwarts." The healer's tone seemed to totter on the edge of asking more about the battle, knowing full well that Neville was a Hogwarts student himself, but she seemed to think better of it and stop herself. "The one right there though, she never lets us take it, I'm not sure what kind of flowers they are. I'm just glad she lets us take some of them, I must say the hospital looks much more cheerful with so many flowers everywhere!"
Augusta nodded sagely beneath her furry hat, drinking in the information. "Well, Neville is quite the fan of plants and flowers, he'll know."
Neville traveled over to the bedside table where the witch had indicated, where his mother's prized flower lay on the bedside table. The little flowers were far from spectacular, very modest in comparison to some of the other flowers strewn here and there about the room. They were small and a soft blue with a bright yellow center. "They're a flower muggles like to plant in their garden." Neville's voice quivered, "They're called forget-me-nots."
A gentle hand reached past Neville and he realized his mother had noticed him looking at her flower. With a quick tug she plucked off a fingerful of the little blue flowers and handed them to Neville with a bashful smile.
Neville took them gratefully. "Don't worry, Mum." He said, emotion thick in his voice, "I'll never forget you, even if you never remember me."