The young man sat at the bottom of his bed with his legs over the edge, fidgeting with the little round possession he'd found. The other end had cardboard boxes and a half full suitcase. It was something of a right of passage, wasn't it? To be emotional leaving his bedroom. He'd left places he'd called home before. Technically there was his nursery as a baby though all he remembered of it was the photo's of him in it. There was the Room of Requirement where he had practically lived for the majority of his seventh year. Then his dorm at Hogwarts. He had returned to complete his last year with Dean and Seamus. Dean said he needed to just feel safe again and come home after a year on the run. Seamus returned, Neville suspected to be with Dean after being separated for so long, but his return was brief. The bruises from the Carrows may have healed but the memories were fresh. The castle seemed to have more ghosts, just not in the traditional sense. Neville tried not to look at Harry and Ron's empty beds. On bad days he'd plague himself thinking of how he could have done more.

He thought he'd be more prepared for this though. He'd dreamt of moving out when he grew up. Although his Gran claimed she was keen to get him out the house ("Nothing worse than a grown man still living at home!") he still felt guilty. This wasn't just his childhood bedroom, it had been his dads too. It was like a special connection between them. He swallowed the lump in his throat packing up his vast collection of sweet wrappers his mum had given him over the years.

It was a surprise to him what finally caused him to crack. He found the remembrall he had lost years ago. It was completely clear. He longed for it to run foggy like his mind or turn red like the anger that burned inside him. He squeezed the little gobstone sized ball and hot tears began to fall. It was telling him what he already knew but tried so hard to ignore. He remembered. He remembered it all. He remembered first learning what had happened to his parents and his Gran taking him to visit them. He remembered Harry clutching Cedric's dead body and finding out his teacher for that year had tortured his parents. He remembered Bellatrix using crucio in The Department of Mysteries, the consuming pain and realising the agony his parents felt. He remembered the guilt he felt as Harry dragged him away and the look on Harry's face when Sirius died. He remembered Hannah's wails outside the greenhouse after hearing of Mrs Abbott's death and Dumbledore's funeral. He remembered boarding the train in seventh year without so many of his friends and the Carrows torture. He remembered learning of Luna's capture. He remembered seeing Professor Lupin's body, wishing it wasn't real and it was just another boggart lesson. He remembered Denis Creevy shaking his brother and begging him to wake up. He remembered hearing Lavender Brown screaming from across the courtyard and realising later what it had meant. He remembered Fred lying there and wishing he would sit up to tell one last joke and the pain on George's face when he didn't. He remembered Harry lifeless in Hagrid's arms.

He remembered the war. He remembered the noise, the screams, the pain, and the blood. He thought he'd seen enough red to last him a lifetime, and now here he was, desperate for red smoke to fill the glass orb because that meant by some miracle he'd forgotten. He just wanted to forget it all. He launched the Remembrall across the room hoping it would shatter into a million pieces and fell back onto his bed. He covered his face as the tears fell. Mum. Dad. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Remus. Tonks. Mad-eye. Colin. Lavender. Fred. Just forget. Just forget. Let me forget, he thought, sobbing into the palms of his hands.

Mrs Longbottom found Neville clutching the Remembrall in one hand with his wand in the other. He was extracting his memory as one did for a pensieve, only he was attempting to remove the memories completely. Neville spent some time in St Mungo's after that. He bitterly thought of how all his Gran had wanted was for him to be like his dad and now here he was, in the same hospital, driven mad by war. He wasn't the only survivor that needed professional help. Some muggleborn healers had called it PTSD. Neville's friends visited him and when he started feeling better he was able to see his parents each day. It was a small comfort being so close to them.

Neville still had the remembrall. The healers had returned it once he got the "all clear", ironically. It hadn't shattered, but there was a big crack on the inside of the glass and it remained empty. Harry, Luna and Ginny were the last ones to visit before he was discharged. Luna spoke about her mother and how she dealt with the trauma of losing her so young. Ginny told Neville that the only thing worse than remembering was forgetting. That she made herself remember because they deserved it. Fred didn't deserve to be forgotten, nobody did.

"It's like that Remembrall there," Luna said thoughtfully, "Some days things will be foggy and other days they will be crystal clear. Some days you'll feel broken and empty on the inside but you've got someone to hold you and catch you." She took hold of his other hand.

Neville smiled and ran his thumb across the gold band on the object. "Catch," he gently tossed it to Harry, who caught it, always a seeker, "Like in first year, you remember Harry?" Neville grinned.

"Yeah, Neville," Harry glanced down at the empty glass ball and smiled up at Neville. "I remember it all," he said quietly.

THC

FFn name: AWellWish

House: Hufflepuff

Class: Astronomy

Category: Drabble

Prompts: [Object] Remembrall

Word count: 998