"It was someone being tortured!" said Neville, who had gone very white, and spilled sausage rolls over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus curse!"
The ghosts of James and Lily paused in watching their son figure out the golden egg clue, and turned to Neville with pained frowns.
"Oh Merlin, d-does he remember? How could he remember?!" Lily asked, a tear falling down her translucent cheek.
James put a hand on her shoulder and wiped the tear away. "Short-term memory loss is a symptom of PTSD, Lils."
"How do you know that?" She asked, walking over to Neville and willing herself to be able to hug her godson.
"My mum went through it after dad..." James joined Lily next to Neville and, together, they embraced a boy who still remembered, even subconsciously, the sound of his parents screams, and cried for him.
...
When Harry met Neville's parents the next year, Lily couldn't contain herself and James wasn't fairing as well, either.
"Merlin, Alice!... Frank..." The pain of seeing two of her close friends reduced to what they were now was terrible. This can't even compare to what Neville must feel, she thought. And, for the second time, after sharing a solemn look with James, they embraced a boy who managed to put up with being scorned all the while knowing that his parents could never answer him, nor see really see him.
For the first, and last time, Alice smiled and thought the first cognizant thought that she had in a while, Thank you.
...
A/N: This was just a short one-shot about Neville's pain and James and Lily trying to comfort him.