A/N: Sorry that this chapter is shorter than most of the other ones, but I'm not sure yet if I want to write more about their Christmas vacation or just have them go back to Hogwarts. Plus, I thought I ended this chapter in a nice spot, so that's what ended up happening. :) Don't forget to review!
I don't own Harry Potter.
"Neville! Luna!" Ron called, waving at us. I glanced at Neville. He looked nervous. I took his hand and squeezed it. "It's us!" Ron continued. "Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who have you been visiting?" He glanced back towards the way we had come, but thankfully the curtain was there, blocking his vision.
"Have you just been visiting your dad?" I asked, trying to get off the subject of why Neville and I were here. "Hermione mentioned his injury on the train home the other day." I tilted my head towards Hermione and smiled a small smile.
"Yeah, he's going to be fine," Ron answered with a grin. "Thankfully Harry saw it before-," Ron stopped when Harry shook his head slightly.
"Friends of yours, Neville dear?" asked Neville's grandmother, coming up behind us.
Neville was blushing crazily and he nodded his head as he stared down at his feet.
"Ah, yes, I know who you are of course," Neville's grandmother shook Harry's hand. "Neville speaks very highly of you."
"Thanks," Harry said quietly.
"And you are clearly a Weasley," Neville's grandmother continued, shaking Ron's hand. "And you're Hermione Granger."
"Yes," Hermione said with a smile. She sounded surprised that Neville's grandmother knew who she was.
"Neville's told me all about you," she explained, as if reading Hermione's thoughts. "Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy." She gave Neville a half smile and squeezed his shoulder. "But he hasn't got his father's talent I'm afraid to say." She jerked her head back towards the closed off beds.
Neville's face turned an even deeper red and I heard him inhale and hold his breath. "Breathe," I told him. "It's quite necessary unless you want to pass out from lack of oxygen."
"I think that sounds good right now," he whispered.
I was about to answer, but Ron was talking and anyway, it might be best of I talk to Neville about this later; when we're away from here.
"What?" Ron was asking. "Is that your dad down there, Neville?"
"You haven't told your friends about your parents?" Neville's grandmother asked.
Neville looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. "No," he whispered.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of!" His grandmother adjusted her hat. "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them."
"I'm not ashamed." Neville's voice was faint, but defiant.
Ron was trying to glance down to the other side of the ward again. I shifted over slightly to try and discreetly block his view. The curtain was still in the way, but I felt uncomfortable for Neville.
"My son and his wife," Neville's grandmother was saying to the others, "were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who and his followers."
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. Harry looked down at his feet and Ron stopped trying to look over my shoulder and instead slumped into his chair, looking embarrassed.
"They were very highly gifted, the pair of them," Neville's grandmother continued. "I—what is it, Alice?"
Neville and I turned. I felt everyone's eyes on us as Neville's mum approached us, a small smile on her face, and her eyes vacant. I imagine they were once very pretty and full of life. It was sickening what You-Know-Who and his followers could do to people without even a second glance.
Alice took Neville's hand and held it palm up. She smiled a little wider and dropped a bubble come wrapper into his hand. Neville closed his fingers around it and she patted them happily.
"Again?" Neville's grandmother asked. "Well, in any case, it's very nice, Alice dear."
"Thanks, Mum," Neville said quietly.
Neville's mum turned her eyes on me and looked at me unblinkingly. Somehow, I knew what she was asking. "Yes, I have it right here." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Christmas ornament. Neville's mother smiled and clapped her hands together before walking away unsteadily back towards her bed, humming quietly to herself.
"Well, we'd better get back," Neville's grandmother finally said. Neville looked relieved. Harry, Ron and Hermione were staring at Neville in horror and concern. "It was nice to have met you all. Luna, dear, you don't have to keep that ornament." She pointed at the tree in the corner.
"Oh, no, I'd like to keep it."
"If you want," she shrugged.
"Neville, you have enough of those wrappers. She's given you enough of them to wallpaper your bedroom. Just toss that one in the trash." She turned and headed for the doors. Neville and I followed her, but I saw Neville slip the wrapper into his pocket. When he saw me looking, he started to turn red again.
"You can never have too many bubble gum wrappers," I said with a smile. "Maybe you should consider wallpapering your room with them. It might look very nice."
Neville smiled. "I don't know if Gran would like that. I keep them all in a special box in my closet."
"How lovely," I said. "I think I'm going to put my ornament in a special spot near the top of our Christmas tree. I think it will look nice near the top."
"So do I," Neville said.
We were quiet for a minute. I finally said what I had been thinking earlier. "Neville, maybe it's not such a bad thing that other people know. I mean, I don't think they'll spread it around school."
"I don't think they will either," Neville said, "but it's just that-," he paused and took a breath. "It's hard to talk about and not everyone understands. Some people are sympathetic and feel bad, but they don't truly understand what it's like. Plus, I don't want people to treat me like I'm the diseased or mentally unstable one. I don't have anything contagious. Then there are people who walk on eggshells around me as if anything they say might hurt me or set me off into a fit of tears."
"And on top of all that, it would be hard to have to tell the story over and over again to anyone who asked."
"Exactly," he said. "It's not that I'm ashamed of my parents."
"I didn't think you were," I answered as we stepped back out into the street. "I understand. I don't talk about my mum much either. I talk about her to you and dad, but a few other people know about her. I told Harry at the beginning of the year. I find him to be a very trustworthy person." I smiled warmly at him.
He nodded. "I've known Harry, Ron and Hermione for five years. I've been in the same dorm with Harry and Ron for those five years. I would have told them myself when I was ready. Ginny, too. I didn't want them to find out like this."
"I know," I said, "but maybe the truth was just ready to come out and it happened like this to make it easier on you. Not that this was easy either, but now you don't have to think about exactly how and when to tell them."
"Good point," Neville said, looking at me and blinking. "How is it that you always think of the things that I never think of?"
"I'm not sure, Neville," I shrugged. "But it's not that hard to do. You just need to open your mind to things."
"Are you calling me closed minded?" he teased.
"No, more like half open, half closed," I shrugged. Neville laughed for the first time all day, a sound that I loved.