"Neville Longbottom! Get down here this instant!" He heard his
grandmother shout from downstairs. He rolled his eyes and finished getting
dressed. He looked at himself in the mirror, "Not bad Longbottom.''
Neville was not a short little boy anymore. He was 16 years old, 6'2'', and had lost his baby-fat. He sighed. What good is it to get dressed up if they don't remember? He turned very slowly and headed down the stairs.
"I'm ready, Gran," His grandmother turned and grinned at him, "Sorry I took so long."
"That's perfectly fine, Love. Now come, on they must be waiting." He rolled his eyes as she walked across the room. I bet they are, he thought.
He had just gotten his license to apperate, which he was excited about. Floo powder was not his favorite was to travel.
"We'll do it on the count of three, alright?" She asked him and he nodded. "One, two, three." And with a pop both Longbottoms disappeared and reappeared in St. Mungo's.
"Why do we come and see them?" Neville asked as they walked to room 108, "They don't know who we are. It's rather depressing and this place gives me the creeps." He looked around at all the people. Some were yelling, some were picking at their skin, and others were reaching out and touching him.
"We come because we love your parents." She stated, "Would you want them without anybody? Like these people?"
He suddenly felt very ashamed, "Sorry, Gran." He said with his eyes cast down.
"It's alright, Neville." She stopped and faced him. "I know being here is scary. You're young and don't want to think about what it's like to be old or not be able to do what you want."
She turned back around and walked down a long corridor. When they finally reached room 108, Neville sat in a chair and his grandmother went up to her son's bed. She shook him gently.
"Bernard, honey?" His eyes started to flutter open, "It's mummy." Neville leaned further back in the chair and glanced at his mother. She was so beautiful, he thought. And he felt tears behind his eyes. He wanted to go over to her and shake her awake and scream that he was her son.
He stopped paying attention to his grandmother and his father and just stared at his mother. Then something jerked him out of his daydream.
"I have a son, Neville." Neville's head shot to his father and to his grandmother, who looked like she was crying. "I have a boy. Have you seen him?" His dark glazed eyes looked at his mother.
"Y-yes, Bernard. He is here with me." She reached her hand out to him without taking her eyes off her son. Neville got up and slowly walked to his father's bed. "Here he is, Bernard. Here is Neville. See how much he looks like you and how handsome he is?"
Neville could not hold back his tears. She was right. It was only a matter of time before they remembered him or her or anything. And he had remembered Neville. He stared and his father, not daring to blink. He was afraid he would wake up is he did.
His father's glazed eyes moved to him and stared at him. "Have you see Neville?" He asked. Neville could have died at that moment. He had woken up from his dream.
"I-I am Neville." He said through sobs. "I am your son!" Neville almost screamed.
"No! You are not Neville! He is a baby! What have you done with him?!" His father was screaming, "Where is my son? WHERE IS HE?!"
"I AM YOUR SON!" Neville did scream this time. His grandmother put her arms around him and led him back to the chair. "I told you he would never remember!" Neville could not control his crying now. He put his face in his hands.
The nurse came in, "What is it? What's wrong?" She demanded. She looked at Neville then at his grandmother then at his father. She suddenly looked sympathetic and left the room.
"Bernard. Go back to sleep." Neville's grandmother brushed his hair with her hand and his father closed his eyes. Neville looked up, he was no longer crying. He refused to cry anymore over them.
Why couldn't you have died! He thought. Why couldn't of I remember you anyway I wanted. Why couldn't Harry's parents be in these beds instead of you? Why did you have to be Aurors even when you had me?
He wiped away his last angry tear and waited while his grandmother spoke to his mother. Glaring out the window wishing he were the hero of the wizarding world.
Neville was not a short little boy anymore. He was 16 years old, 6'2'', and had lost his baby-fat. He sighed. What good is it to get dressed up if they don't remember? He turned very slowly and headed down the stairs.
"I'm ready, Gran," His grandmother turned and grinned at him, "Sorry I took so long."
"That's perfectly fine, Love. Now come, on they must be waiting." He rolled his eyes as she walked across the room. I bet they are, he thought.
He had just gotten his license to apperate, which he was excited about. Floo powder was not his favorite was to travel.
"We'll do it on the count of three, alright?" She asked him and he nodded. "One, two, three." And with a pop both Longbottoms disappeared and reappeared in St. Mungo's.
"Why do we come and see them?" Neville asked as they walked to room 108, "They don't know who we are. It's rather depressing and this place gives me the creeps." He looked around at all the people. Some were yelling, some were picking at their skin, and others were reaching out and touching him.
"We come because we love your parents." She stated, "Would you want them without anybody? Like these people?"
He suddenly felt very ashamed, "Sorry, Gran." He said with his eyes cast down.
"It's alright, Neville." She stopped and faced him. "I know being here is scary. You're young and don't want to think about what it's like to be old or not be able to do what you want."
She turned back around and walked down a long corridor. When they finally reached room 108, Neville sat in a chair and his grandmother went up to her son's bed. She shook him gently.
"Bernard, honey?" His eyes started to flutter open, "It's mummy." Neville leaned further back in the chair and glanced at his mother. She was so beautiful, he thought. And he felt tears behind his eyes. He wanted to go over to her and shake her awake and scream that he was her son.
He stopped paying attention to his grandmother and his father and just stared at his mother. Then something jerked him out of his daydream.
"I have a son, Neville." Neville's head shot to his father and to his grandmother, who looked like she was crying. "I have a boy. Have you seen him?" His dark glazed eyes looked at his mother.
"Y-yes, Bernard. He is here with me." She reached her hand out to him without taking her eyes off her son. Neville got up and slowly walked to his father's bed. "Here he is, Bernard. Here is Neville. See how much he looks like you and how handsome he is?"
Neville could not hold back his tears. She was right. It was only a matter of time before they remembered him or her or anything. And he had remembered Neville. He stared and his father, not daring to blink. He was afraid he would wake up is he did.
His father's glazed eyes moved to him and stared at him. "Have you see Neville?" He asked. Neville could have died at that moment. He had woken up from his dream.
"I-I am Neville." He said through sobs. "I am your son!" Neville almost screamed.
"No! You are not Neville! He is a baby! What have you done with him?!" His father was screaming, "Where is my son? WHERE IS HE?!"
"I AM YOUR SON!" Neville did scream this time. His grandmother put her arms around him and led him back to the chair. "I told you he would never remember!" Neville could not control his crying now. He put his face in his hands.
The nurse came in, "What is it? What's wrong?" She demanded. She looked at Neville then at his grandmother then at his father. She suddenly looked sympathetic and left the room.
"Bernard. Go back to sleep." Neville's grandmother brushed his hair with her hand and his father closed his eyes. Neville looked up, he was no longer crying. He refused to cry anymore over them.
Why couldn't you have died! He thought. Why couldn't of I remember you anyway I wanted. Why couldn't Harry's parents be in these beds instead of you? Why did you have to be Aurors even when you had me?
He wiped away his last angry tear and waited while his grandmother spoke to his mother. Glaring out the window wishing he were the hero of the wizarding world.