Summery: Neville is the way he is for a reason. This is a spin off from my story Against All Odds.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they belong to the wonderfully amazing J.K. Rowling.
People ridicule me because of my memory. Actually because of my lack of a memory. Let me assure you, had you been through what I had, you would think twice about calling me an idiot. I'm not stupid. Far from it.
My parents were taken from me. People think I don't remember that day. I do remember. My memory of that day is perfect. I remember every little detail. Some would say that it's impossible for someone to remember something so vividly after so much time. But who could possibly forget? Even though I was so small when it happened. I was just over a year old, sixteen months old to be exact. My parents and I were in our living room. I remember my father sitting in his favorite chair watching me, smiling, as my mother held my arms over my head and was having me walk on her shoes. The rain was hitting the front window. I liked the rain, so I looked towards the window as my mother walked me past it. I saw four black cloaked people standing there, watching us. I pulled my tiny hand from my mothers and pointed. My parents looked, but the mysterious people moved from view.
"Yes, Neville." my mother said lovingly. "Look at the pretty water."
Soon after the words had left her mouth, the front door was blasted open, rain splattering inside. The hooded people came in. My father stood quickly, drawing his wand from his robes. My mother pulled me close to her body and shielded me with her arms.
"Leave at once." my father told them sternly, moving in front of my mother and I.
A lone figure stepped forward from the group.
"We shall leave when you tell us where the Order is hiding our Master." a female voice replied to my father.
"Bellatrix?" my father said, confused. "Bellatrix Black?"
The women removed her white mask. She was young looking women with long black hair. An evil looking grin graced her face.
"No, Bellatrix, my old friend." my mother gasped. "What has become of you?"
"Silence, you fool!" Bellatrix shouted. "You were never a friend to me! Where is my Master!"
"Your Master is dead." my father said his voice filled with disgust.
"Liar!" the horrible women screeched. "Tell the truth, Longbottom, or your pathetic wife and child shall suffer!"
"Frank is not lying, Bellatrix." my mother said, putting her hand over my head. "He is gone."
"No!" Bellatrix shouted again.
The other three figures drew there wands.
"Crucio!" one of them shouted.
My mother screamed as my father fell to the floor, his whole body shaking uncontrollably in pain.
"Bella, please no!" my mother wept.
The women laughed and threw the horrible spell at my mother.
She dropped me as she fell to the floor screaming. I started crying as my small body landed hard. The four people laughed as my parents withered in pain. I cried louder as there screams became more agonizing.
The evil women walked casually over to me. She looked down at me and pointed her wand.
"Crucio!" she said, and everything went black.
My Uncle Algie told when I was six that I had been in a coma for two months after that night. I don't even remember waking up. While my grandmother refuses to speak of it, he tells me the answers to all my unasked questions. The doctors knew within a few days that my parents, while conscious, would never recover from the torture they had endured. He told me about how my grandparents sat by my bedside almost every moment of everyday for the whole two months. How my grandmother became deftly silent when the doctors told her that I might never awake or possibly die. About how my grandfather, the strong man he was, cried inconsolably at the thought of having to bury me before himself. How they both cried the moment my tiny eyes opened.
I don't remember re-learning how to walk. Or how to feed myself. I don't remember my recovery at all. I don't remember my parents from before that night, and it's possible that I never will. I don't remember a lot of things I should know now. The doctors said that there is something wrong in my brain, that my memory will never be what it should.
So, go ahead. Call me stupid, call me weak. Tell me I'm worthless. Call me every name you can think of. Your words can't hurt me more that I already have been hurt. If you could only stop and think. If you could only understand. If you only knew. You wouldn't.
-THE END-
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