Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR and Warner Bros are the ones who get the monies.
She knows her name is Alice.
She can't remember where she lived before this place of beauty, but here there are endless fields of green, with flowers and butterflies, and the sun shines with a perfect heat that allows her to be comfortable in the open air and she doesn't think about it for very long. She knows it shouldn't be like this, but she doesn't remember how it should be, only that it is pleasant the way it is, and that whatever had been was different. Sometimes, if she tries very hard, she can hear her name whispered on the wind, but there is no-one else here in her hazy, little, peaceful world.
She is alone – aside from that one special day each year when He comes to visit. He is her knight, who comes to her and calls her 'Mum'. She doesn't understand it, but she likes it nonetheless, and when He comes He speaks of adventures and trials, and people that she doesn't know who live far away from her in places that are more terrible than she can imagine.
At the end of His visits, she gives him a gift, a token, and He smiles a little sadly as he looks at it, but when he looks back at her it is true and wide and beautiful, and she feels a little flicker of familiarity that goes beyond his knighthood, but it always vanishes too quickly to be grasped completely.
When he disappears, she is alone again, free to lie in the fields and watch the butterflies flit about, the flowers grow, and the horses that run free with their foals over the rolling hills.
She is Alice, but she doesn't understand what that means.
OoO
When he was younger he was just Neville, and he didn't understand.
Neville feels his heart clench when his mother looks so genuinely happy to see him. He hasn't ever observed her react in the same manner with anyone else. It is only he that gets that smile, and the expression in her eyes that she recognises him. When he is finished telling her about the events in his life, she hands him an object clenched tightly in her surprisingly small fisted hand. She drops it in his large open one, and when he looks down he can't help the sadness seep out just a little.
The bright pink lolly wrapper will join the others (from each visit he has taken) in the special box that contains his parent's things, the ones he prizes the most. Among them are photos, and love notes, and baby items, like socks and bonnets, and Neville wonders whether he might have had a sibling had Voldemort never existed – had he been born in May or November – had his family been better protected.
Returning his gaze to his mother, he smiles a true smile in thanks for another day that he can see her in which she can recognise him. He couldn't bear to see her if she no longer smiled that welcoming smile, but cowered and had to be sedated by the nurses who worked in the ward.
He says thank you and joins Gran outside, his hand in his pocket, grazing the lolly wrapper, a fond smile on his face and a sad expression in his eyes.
He is Neville Longbottom, and he knows exactly what that means. It means parentless, but not orphaned.