This was actually inspired by a post on Tumblr I saw about how Neville's story was far more tragic than Harry's in a way because his parents were still alive. Kind of like Ron said in Deathly Hallows, Harry's parents were safe, and his were still in danger. Anyway, I hope you like it! Reviews?

-PIAM3 xx

Snapdragons and Memories

It was five years after Neville Longbottom had started as Herbology Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and life was good for him. He wasn't married with children like a lot of his friends now, but he was content with his plants and the children at school were hassle enough without his own when he left for the holidays.

He would teach his lessons during the day, but in the evenings after dinner he would disappear into the greenhouses with folders of papers and not come out for hours. He was, with the help of his good friend Luna Scamander, trying to create a miracle plant. he had had doubts about Luna's assistance, remembering her wild stories of Nargles and Wrackspurts only too well, but she had grown up, and was - surprisingly - scientific about the whole thing. Luna of course knew all about what Neville was attempting to do, but never brought the subject up: he tended to go silent until the topic passed. So they worked in companionable silence most of the time, Neville concentrating hard to avoid false hope.

What they were attempting was foolish in the extreme, and would probably do nothing, maybe even making it worse. But he had to try, because they were his parents.

All his life, he had been grateful that his parents were alive, unlike so many others, but once they'd graduated, he'd realised it was even worse; his parents knew him, and he knew them, but they were almost strangers, or family friends, not parents. They could never hug him, and tell him they loved him, because they were categorised as insane, and while he never wanted them dead, maybe that way he could move on from them.

So when Luna had told him in that dreamy way of hers that there were myths about a miracle herb that cured insanity by 'driving out the demons', his eyes had lit up. What if they could be cured? What if they could be parents again? And that thought had burned inside him, consuming all his thoughts until Luna had promised t find more about the plant, ad they had begun trying to grow it in the greenhouses.

And eventually, after three years of research, dragon dung and pixie wing fertilisation, they had done it. They had, if the 500 year old source book was correct, grow enough of the delicate plant to cure two people of magical spell damage. Neville was bouncing around with excitement, and Luna was extremely curios. If this worked, Neville would have his parents back, and the pair would be sitting on a fortune if they could grow more of the stuff.

They followed the instructions on the crumbling, yellow pages carefully, brewing the potion with help of Hermione (Neville didn't trust either of them to do it properly), and fixing the vial with a cork stopper until they reached St. Mungos.

Neville had explained what the potion was to the Healers, who were reluctant at first, but when Hermione chipped in with her comment about Neville's knowledge of Herbology, they finally agreed it was worth a shot, and ushered the trio into the ward where Neville's parents lived.

Alice had smiled at them dozily as they walked in, giving Neville her customary sweet wrapper which he pocketed with a sad smile. He had boxes and boxes of the things now, and despite his grandmother's insistence, refused to throw a single one away. Hermione wiped away a tear, hoping beyond hope that this would work, while Luna examined the flowers on Alice's bedside table.

"These are Muggle plants aren't they?" she asked, "Snapdragons?"

Healer Holloway smiled, "Yes dear, they're Alice's favourite aren't they?"

Alice looked round at the sound of her name, and saw where Luna was looking. She walked slowly over, and began picking the flowers off their stalks, and passed them round to everyone with a kind smile. Hermione started crying at that, and cupped her hands for the flower.

"Thank you, Mrs Longbottom," she mumbled, swiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

Once Alice had settled back down on the sofa next to Frank, Healer Holloway poured them both a glass of water and mixed in the potion, the water swirling with the golden mixture to create a light yellow liquid that reminded Hermione of Felix Felicitus, which got rid of some of their fears. Frank and Alice were handed the cups, and Holloway mimed drinking, which they copied obediently, taking long sips from the cups until the potion was all gone.

"I think they should lie down now, after all, they've got a lot of work to be doing sorting out all those memories," Healer Holloway said kindly, helping Frank to his bed while Neville nodded and helped him mum to hers.

There was a tense two hours in the waiting room as Hermione had to leave (she had a date with Ron) and Luna had to leave to pick up her twin sons from school, leaving Neville sitting on a moulded plastic seat outside the ward, tapping his foot quickly while he waited for something, anything, to say that it had worked.

A Healer poked their head around the door frame with an ecstatic smile plastered across their faces, "They've just woken up! Come in, come in!"

Neville leaped up, and could hear his parents through the door already.

"Where's my boy? Is he okay?" Frank was saying loudly.

"Bellatrix, that /bitch/!" Alice was shrieking, and Frank put his hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

"Neville, is Neville alright? How long has it been?" Alice said, ignoring Frank when she saw her baby son wasn't there.

Neville stood and watched, tears streaming down his face as a Healer explained it had been almost 30 years since they'd been tortured, "A lot has happened," they were explaining.

"I don't care about who the Minister for Magic is," Alice said when a Healer was talking to her, "I need to see my son."

Neville coughed to clear his throat of the massive lump that had built there. All the stories he had heard about his parents were true, they were amazing, and he was no longer alone, "Mum," he never thought he could say that properly, "Mum, I'm here."

Alice and Frank turned as one, and Alice immediately burst into tears, clinging to Frank as if her life depended on it. Neville had a moment of worry when he thought she was disappointed in him, but Frank smiled warmly at his only son, and held out his arm. Frank took one slow step, then another, the another, before running over to them and flinging his arms round them. He was a head taller than Alice, the same height as his father, and far stronger looking than either of them, but as his mum and dad held him for the first time he could remember, he felt safe.

"Oh Neville, oh Neville," Alice sobbed, stroking his hair like he was the baby she remembered again, "I love you, I'm so very very proud of you."

He laughed slightly, "Mum, you don't know what I've done."

Frank smiled, "No, son, but we're proud of you whatever you've done."

And the Healer's watched in awe as their patients, kept in for magical spell damage, talked to their son fully cured by a plant they'd never heard of.

Frank, Alice and Neville talked long into the night, way past midnight and into the early hours of the morning, catching up with each other, telling stories, patching their memories up. And so when Frank dropped off to sleep from exhaustion, and Neville went soon after, Alice just sat there holding her husband's hand, looking fondly at her little boy.

All was well.

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