Don't you know me? ~ Neville Longbottom

P P P

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I've felt all alone for as long as I can remember.  Without my mum or dad, I was stuck with Gran and countless aunts and uncles.  This is what I was thinking when I walked through the front doors and the girl at the desk smiled apologetically at me, almost as if it was her fault I was here.  Not that it was.  It was all Voldemort's fault.  He didn't kill my parents, no, gave me something worse to deal with.  He tortured them with curses, until they went crazy and had to come here.  The nurses all know me from my previous visits, and if I was that kind of a person, they would let me sob my heart out.  Not that I am that sort of person.  I am the tell-no-one-until-I-break-down kind of person.  The kind other people didn't understand and push away.  Slowly, I almost crawl up the stairs.  I hate these visits.  The hospital felt too much like home, after being away for many years.  Slowly, I walked into the ward.  No one understands, I thought slightly bitter, they don't know what its like to visit your parents in a hospital and have to remind them who you are.  Surprised, I thought about myself.  Surely I didn't feel that vengeful?  The thing I hated most was having to bear the stares at on the trains, with people thinking "Where are his parents?" I wish I could just yell at them, scream until I was out of breath and then cry.  But no, I couldn't do that, I should think about my reputation.  As if!  I was a shy, quiet, clumsy fifth year at Hogwarts, the only person happy for me to be there was Ginny Weasley.  I think she felt the same way, cut off from her family, all alone at school.  But back here, in the present, I was in a hospital with the dreaded door in front of me.  Was it really worth it?  I wondered, was it worth the pain of familiar faces? Taking a deep breath, I reached out in front of me and inched the door open.  There were people all around me, laughing and singing.  Of course, these people weren't really here, just off with the fairies.  Stupid muggle expression.  Slowly, I walked past all of them, waving to the nurses as I saw them, registering the faces.  All like members of my family.  One weird, unhappy, deranged family.  Shuddering at the thought, I hiked over to a room.  As I walked inside, I noticed my things around the room.  Maybe, I thought remembering my foolish youth, today would be the day.  The day when mum and dad stood up and hugged me, told me how much they had loved my letters and drawings (which decorated the room I stood in) and how they were ready to come home with me.  Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I walked out onto the veranda, were they usually sat, at this time of the day.  My heart flopped over as I saw they weren't there.  Maybe my dream would come true today!  Then, almost skipping, I walked over to Annabel, the head nurse.  She looked at me in that sad way, as if to say, No, my dear, they are still here.  Blinking furiously, I tried to hold back the tears.  I succeeded, and I smiled slightly, staring as I saw my painting of mum & me holding hands, with the rest of the ward.  She smiled and said to me "Dear, I dug it out of the reception desk.  I thought it gave the room a cheery feel."  I nodded numbly.  It brought back memories about getting my letter.  I was overjoyed, because I thought I could forget my life right now.  Until, my life here followed me there.  With no mother or father (that could recognise me), the teachers tried to take pity on me, giving me good marks.  One day, I cracked and yelled at Dumbledore, and he told me that the good marks were because of me, not my parents.  I felt better, but not after I got detention from Snape.  No one heard about it because I had to help Dumbledore.  Suddenly, a man came up and looked at me, shaking me out of my thoughts.  "Don't worry son, they won't get us!! We'll fight unto the death!"  I took a deep breath.  Trying not to cry, smiled at him.  No one had ever called him 'son' before, except Uncle Alfred, who had stopped after I gave him the coldest stare I had.  My thoughts already interrupted, I stared into the recreational room and saw my parents.  Gulping, I walked over to them.  I wonder if they'll remember me.  Will they finally help me with my problems?  For a second it looked like they remembered me but then their faces clouded over and mum asked "Sorry, dear.  Do I know you?  Oh, of course I don't.  Are you lost?"  I felt as if there was a hand around my heart, crushing it.  I sniffed and simply said unhappily "No, its ok, I'm fine."  I walked over to the visitor's couches and thought.  Gran wouldn't be back for another 15 minutes.  Sometimes, I recalled, it looked like they had remembered me and sometimes when they didn't I felt like asking "Don't you know me?"  Crying silently, I grabbed my notebook, and ran out the door.  Outside, I leaned against the wall, panting.  Why had I done that?  Was it enough that my family cast me out, but then I had to run out on Annabel, who was the only caring person I had?  Or at least, she pretended she cared.  She really had her own life, where I wasn't present.  Her own friends, her own family, her own memories.  She didn't need me, like I needed her.  She was like a substitute sister.  Turning around, I figured I couldn't go back in there until next time.  Was there a next time??  Savagely, I ran down the stairs and past the receptionist.  Surprised, she started to yell after me "Mr Longbottom?  MR LONGBOTTOM!! SEE YOU NEXT TIME!!" Giving up, I saw her turn away.  Sitting down on the curb while I waited for gramma, I thought about my parents.  Why did I have to come visit?  They never remembered me.  I was the one with the memories, and the pain.  They lived in their own world, away from me, away from the hospital.  They probably had a son, who was great.  Not at all like me.  Someone, happy, and smart and funny. Getting up, I ran all the way home.  Tears ran down my face as I ran through the familiar streets, with the familiar potholes & the familiar smells.  Speeding up, I came into the house, and run up the stairs to my bedroom.  My aunt, uncle and cousin didn't even try and stop me.  This happened every time.  I always ran home from the hospital, and up to my bedroom.  I slowly realized there were tears on my cheeks, so I raised my arm to wiping them away. I threw myself on to my bed, and reached underneath it.  Feeling around, I felt the familiar box, with its hard edges, worn smooth, and the top, with it's soft baby fabric on it.  Slowly, I pulled it up, and opened it.  Inside lay a piece of tissue paper, and underneath that were pictures of me as a baby…a happy, smiling baby with my parents smiling and waving.  I put the box away, feeling the magic in it.  Not ordinary magic, just lots of love, that was poared into those pictures.  Sighing, I lay down.  I knew my break in life was due soon, but could I hold on? After all, life was so unfair sometimes…..

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^A/N^

This is new, and improved.  Please review, but not to say that you hate it and it was terrible.  Most of this was spur of the moment, because I felt really sorry for Neville.  There will be another one, like this about Ginny…  Hope you liked it!!!**