This is an entry for vicky199416's Happiest Moment In their Lives Challenge. I got Hannah Abbott – and she always seemed to me as someone who would be happy if everyone else was too.

Usual disclaimer applies: I do not, in fact, own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. I do thank Ms. Rowling for creating them for us and letting us play with them.

"Hannah?"

"Yes, love?"

"Are you still going to visit Ernie in St. Mungo's this afternoon?"

"Yes, why?"

"Can I come with you? There's... something I wanted to show you."

"Alright."

It had been four days since the Battle. Neville and I had been helping in the clean up of the castle. There was still a lot of work to be done, towers to rebuild, paintings to repair... but the worst of the rumble had been cleared off. There had been no particular reason to start working immediately after the Battle, except that all of us so desperately needed something to do, to avoid thinking. We all had something we didn't want to think about. For me, it was Ernie, who had been one of the first transported to St. Mungo's. My best friend of seven years was still in a coma, caused by an unknown Curse, and no one had the faintest idea how to wake him up.

I had been putting off the moment to visit Ernie. I was afraid that seeing him lying in a cold hospital bed would just make it all more real – as if my presence would make his coma permanent, and he'd never wake from it.

But while the Gryffindors had all the courage, I had loyalty beyond words – and what kind of loyal friend let her best mate lie alone in a hospital bed?

So I had made my decision the night before to go see Ernie, before the series of funerals started. I was so relieved that Neville would come with me and hold my hand, that I forgot to pester him about the thing he wanted me to see.

St. Mungo's was a disaster scene. On top of all the injured from the Battle of Hogwarts, they were also dealing with a deluge of witches and wizards who'd become ill or hurt during the war but hadn't dared leave their home.

Seeing Ernie was a bit of an anti-climax. He was indeed lying in a hospital bed, but he wasn't alone – the entire MacMillan clan had arrived from Scotland, and was determined not to leave his bedside. The Healer actually informed us that they had started to notice a tiny amount of brain activity, and that whatever the Curse had been, it might be starting to fade.

Neville squeezed my hand.

"That was really brave of you, you know. It's hard to see people you love helpless."

He looked truly impressed. Stupid Gryffindors. They do like to think of themselves as all around experts on bravery. That's why we love them.

"There was something you wanted to show me?"

Something flashed in Neville's eyes. Anxiety. Nervousness. The man had had no problem basically giving the finger to Voldemort, but he had something to show me in St. Mungo's that scared him. I started to worry.

"Did I ever tell you what happened to my parents?"

"No, I don't think you did. I mean, I know they died in the first war but..."

"No," Neville interrupted me. "They didn't die in the first war. They didn't die at all. They were... tortured into insanity. By Bellatrix Lestrange, at the very end of the war. She Cruciated them for so long that something broke in their minds. They're... They've been here at St. Mungo's for seventeen years."

He was looking at the floor when saying that, not even bothering too pretend he wasn't avoiding my eyes.

"Your parents are alive?"

"Yes."

"They're here?"

"Yes."

"But... Why have you always said they were dead?"

"Because they might as well be, Hannah," he answered, suddenly looking up. "They don't recognise me, they don't recognise my grandmother, they have no idea who they are, or what they've done in their lives. They were brilliant Aurors, the bravest of the brave, and now they can't even feed themselves or button their shirts! They are truly gone!"

His eyes were shining with tears. He looked broken.

I was speechless for a minute.

"How many people know?"

"Almost no one. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione. They found out by accident."

"By accident? Did you ever tell anyone?"

"You're the first," he replied, looking back at the floor.

A wave of emotions overtook me. Here was Neville Longbottom, one of the heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts, my boyfriend of just two months, trusting me with what apparently was his biggest secret in the world. I was completely and utterly in love with him. I felt ridiculously happy – and then ridiculously ashamed, because Neville was obviously miserable.

"Alright. Are we going to see them?"

He looked up, again, surprised.

"Well, you said you had something to show me here. I really hope it's not that stain on the floor you've been looking at, because after a story like this, it'd be a bit underwhelming."

He smiled a bit nervously.

"No, I mean yes, I mean... Let's go to the Fourth floor."

I grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the stairs.

He might have only been my boyfriend for two months, but I'd known Neville for a lot longer than that. Neville just didn't let anyone in. Bringing your girlfriend to meet your parents is always special. Bringing her to meet your parents when they also happen to be your biggest secret in the world – I might not be a Ravenclaw, but I was smart enough to know he might as well have proposed right there. I wasn't about to let him back out of this.

As we arrived on the Fourth Floor, and started to walk towards the Janus Thickey Ward, a witch in green robes saw us and started waving.

"Mr. Longbottom! Wait up!"

Neville turned towards her.

"Hello, Healer Strout. We're here to see my parents."

The witch nodded really quickly and excitedly.

"Of course Mr. Longbottom. We meant to contact you, but everything's been so crazy. I'm so sorry, we didn't even see the starting signs, we've been understaffed up here, with everyone pulled in to treat the injured from the Battle. I have no idea how it's happening..."

"Healer!" I shouted to stop her. "What has happened to Neville's parents?" I asked more quietly. I could feel Neville trembling with worry next to me.

She looked at us, and a bright smile appeared on her lips.

"Their minds have started to come back."

Neville just stared at her.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, when it became obvious Neville had lost all power of speech.

"The signs are really small, but they're there. The first steps to recovery. Mrs. Longbottom can hold a fork and almost feed herself. Mr Longbottom managed to put on his shirt on his own yesterday. It's nothing short of a miracle."

There was complete silence for almost a minute.

"When did that happen?"

"I'm not entirely sure – as I said before, we've all been so busy, I'm afraid we haven't paid enough attention to long term patients these days. But it must have happened in the past four days or so."

"Bellatrix," Neville muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" Healer Strout said.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Neville repeated. "She was the one who tortured them. She was killed in battle four days ago. Could that...?"

He didn't finish his sentence. He was glancing at the door of the Ward, as though afraid it would disappear. .

"Well, I guess it could... When the caster of a spell dies, the spell ends as well, but in this case, the Curse itself ended a long time ago... But the studies on this topic aren't all conclusive..." Healer Strout stopped when she realised Neville wasn't paying any attention to her. He was squeezing my hand so hard, I figured he would break it any moment. I could handle a little pain, though.

Slowly, he walked towards the door. I didn't think it was possible to look terrified and gloriously happy at the same time, but that's exactly what Neville looked like. He opened the door, and on the other side, in the ward, two persons were sitting on a bed, their backs towards us. They must have heard the door, because they suddenly turned. I think by that moment, Neville had forgotten how to breathe altogether.

Neville looked just like his mother, I realised when I first saw Alice. But his smiles – the ones that make me melt when he sends them my way, starting in the corner of his mouth, and slowly blooming over his entire face – his smiles came from his father, I realised, as Frank Longbottom's mouth started to curve.

"Neville," Alice said, simply.

And looking at the tears on Neville's cheeks as he looked at his parents who had essentially just come back from the dead, I remembered why we had fought this war. For moments like these, of pure happiness, shared between people who simply love each other.