Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, his grandmother, his parents, or his goat.
The snow was falling outside of the Longbottom house showing no signs of stopping. It looked as if angels were dancing with the blizzard but Neville knew that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Angels were a thing of dreams, and that's where they should stay. In Neville's opinion.
He and his grandmother had just come back from St. Mungo's. They had been visiting his parents for Christmas again. Something had scared him today more than the condition of his parents had. He had seen Ron, Harry, and Hermione at the hospital. It completely caught him off guard. And at that moment he felt as if somebody had punched him hard in the stomach and then kicked his head in when he was down. He was humiliated, he was guilty, but most of all he was terrified.
He closed his eyes and felt the hatred surge through him again. He sighed.
Neville turned away from his window and reached under his bed, pulling out a box full of photo albums. He pulled the bubblegum wrapper out of his pocket and opened the top book to an empty page, pulling the film back carefully and picking up a pen. On the back of the wrapper he wrote 'Christmas 1996'. However small it was, however many he had gotten from her already, it was better than any present he could ever receive.
He closed the photo album and set it back down in the box. He only had about four albums full but it was more than what he had ever asked for because he had never asked for anything. He had only wished, hoped and dreamed, and his mother had provided him with some shred of proof that she could hear him. For this he was grateful.
Neville put the box back under his bed and changed into his nightclothes. He then turned off the light and climbed into bed. About two hours later, he fell asleep.
The snow was falling outside the Longbottom house marking the existence of winter. A boy slept soundly in his bed. Angels danced with Neville in his dreams, the one place that he would never be a failure. One angel grabbed his arm and pulled him close. His mother, the sweetest, kindest, most gentle of them all. Angels were a thing of dreams, and that's where they would always stay. Neville only wished that he could stay with them.