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"Neville, I am just going to get a cuppa, this kind Healer is here if you need anything." A small boy simply nodded from the chair he was sitting in, between two beds, as his Gran strode from the corridor.
The boy sat quietly watching two adults stare into nothingness. He had known these people all of his life, but they didn't know him. They once knew him, but that was before they screamed in agony as they lost their minds, all because of the fault of some Death Eaters that wanted to know where Voldemort was. To the Death Eaters, Voldemort was something like a lord, but to everyone else he was the cruellest, most hated man.
The boy, Neville, was six years old and he knew every detail of what happened that night. No, it wasn't because he had seen it or remembered it, but because his Gran had made sure that he knew exactly what happened to these people and how brave they were.
But these people weren't just ordinary adults to Neville. No, they were his heroes, his inspiration; the ones that he looked up to most and they were so much more than the most incredible people to him. These people were his parents - his Mum and Dad.
Neville didn't quite understand it though. How could his parents not know who he was? How could they not know that he was their son who once he meant everything to them? How could they not know that they once loved him so much that they would have died to save him? They would have died to save him just like Lily and James Potter had done for their son, Harry.
Once, a Healer at Saint Mungo's, the hospital that his parents stayed at permanently, had told him that his parents 'still love you, they just don't know it'. But, Neville didn't think that they didn't know it, he just thought that they were playing a game and that they would stop playing if all of the adults left. But, the adults never left. The adults always stayed in the same ward - The Janus Thickey Ward.
The Janus Thickey Ward held other people too. Other people that didn't speak, other people that weren't quite sure what happened to them, or where they were. These people always made Neville feel less comfortable about being with his parents. It was as if that they gave him less hope for his parents. To fix this problem, Neville would always attempt to close the curtain around the beds of his parents, but his Gran always stopped him and pulled him away and said, "Neville, don't you want the world to see you visit your parents. You should be proud of them, Neville, you should be proud."
But, of course Neville was proud of his parents, why would he not be, they were his parents?
Neville continued watching his parents in silence, until it was broken by the Healer that was watching him, "Would you like some colouring in pencils, Neville?"
Neville considered the offer for a moment, and then was struck by an idea.
"Yes, please," he said quietly.
"Alright, sweetheart, I'll be back in a moment." And with that, the Healer had vanished.
Taking the opportunity and putting his plan into action, Neville quickly pulled the curtain around the beds of his parents, Alice and Frank Longbottom.
"Look, there aren't any grown-up's in here anymore, it's just us. You don't have to play anymore, you can come out."
His Dad continued to stare into nothingness; his Mum turned her head to his face, waiting for more to be said.
Neville didn't normally say anything to his parents, but he had a feeling deep in his heart that his Mum had recognised his voice, so he continued, "Mummy, Daddy, I love you lots and lots."
At this, his Dad looked at him and a smile erupted on Neville's face. But he had to be sure.
"Do you know who I am?" Neville was trying to be brave- like his parents, "Do you remember me?"
The moment Neville had waited for, day and night, had finally come; he was going to find out if all the hope had been worth it, if he had been right, if his parents did remember him.
But, his parents couldn't remember how to talk, they couldn't remember much at all, so would they remember him? How would they show it? Did they remember that by nodding they could answer positively?
His Dad groaned a little. This was it, they were playing a game, and he knew it.
"Daddy?"
His Dad turned his head and looked at his wife, and she looked back. They smiled at each other, and then both looked back at Neville.
Neville thought that they were sharing some kind of silent communication, that a smile meant something different to them.
"You do remember me!" Neville cried.
Suddenly, his Mum picked up a gum wrapper from her bedside table and forced it into his hand, all in one swift movement, just as his Gran pulled open the curtain.
"Oh, really?" Gran said huffily.
Neville didn't understand. It was a gift, a sign - the sign that proved his parents remembered him.
"Here you are Neville, your colouring in pencils." The Healer had returned. "You can take them home with you," she whispered as an afterthought after seeing his Gran.
Neville was beaming, but for a completely different reason to what the Healer thought.
"Would you like me to put that in the bin for you Neville?"
Seeing his Gran kiss his father on the head he whispered, "It was from my Mum, I want to keep it."
Smiling, the kind Healer patted him on the shoulder as his Gran took his hand and they walked down the corridor.
This wasn't the only time that Neville received a gum wrapper from his Mum; in fact, he was given a gum wrapper every time he visited his parents, sometimes given more than one. And every time he did receive one, he knew that his parents really did remember him, a thought that kept him smiling every day.
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A/N: Thankyou to my beta, RabbitohsGirl. Thankyou to my readers and if you review I respect you highly for making me smile.