Dear Neville,

As a woman who has lived for quite some time, and seen many things over the years, I must say that I have never seen anyone grow, develop and change as much as you did in the past eight years.

I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. Your father sent me a letter the second your mother went into labor and by the time I arrived, you had just been born. I was the first person, besides your parents and the nurse of course, to see you. You were born with a lot of hair for a baby. The top of your head was covered with a large tuft of hair, the exact same color as both of your parents.

It still amazes me how much you have grown to look like them. You have an equal mix of both of their features and I can see them both in you ever so clearly. You're not like them only in looks, either, as I have come to realize.

I'm quite sure that you know the story of when you were younger. The family was very afraid that you wouldn't show any signs of magic at all. Besides being a very clumsy child, you were a rather late bloomer where showing signs of magic was concerned, but better late than never I always say. You still got that letter to Hogwarts, same as your parents, and went off on the train on the first of September with that ruddy toad from your Uncle Algie. If I had gotten my way, you would have received an owl, but you took a liking to that toad.

When you got to school, I noticed you performed average in every class with the exception of Herbology, where you excelled, and Potions where you, well, seemed to lack. You seemed to struggle more than your father did when he was at school, and I will admit that it frustrated me a bit. I wanted you to excel at your schoolwork and make me as proud as your father had, but I learned that there are other ways of making people proud. It's never too late for an old woman to be taught something new.

When I heard about what happened in the Department of Mysteries during your fifth year, my first concern was whether you had been hurt or not. I know I come across as very strict and proper, but I'm your grandmother and I love you very much. The last thing I wanted was to lose you. Besides that, I wouldn't have been able to bear losing another family member. When I learned that you were alive, I was overcome by a feeling of pride. I was incredibly impressed with how much you had improved and learned over the course of the school year, even if it wasn't from a licensed teacher.

During your sixth year, you impressed me again by fighting in another battle against Death Eaters. In your seventh year, you stood up to those Carrow fools and tried to reform that Dumbledore's Army. You were refusing to take any bullying or torture and you were standing up for yourself as well as others. I was witnessing my once clumsy, shy grandson change before my very eyes and truly become his parents' son.

When I heard there was going to be a battle at Hogwarts, I had been on the run from those idiot Death Eaters, which I had informed you about. I hurried to the school as fast as I could. The owner of the Hog's Head directed me through the tunnel leading to the school and when I got there, I found a room, empty except for the young Weasley girl and another woman with bright pink hair (honestly, pink, for heaven's sake!). We didn't have to wait long until Harry Potter arrived and told me you were fighting. Of course you were. Where else would you be?

I also must say that I almost collapsed of fear, pride and shock when you stood up to You-Know-Who himself. I suppose it sounds silly to call him You-Know-Who now, but it's still so much of a habit. Anyway, in that moment and in the moment when you killed that horrible snake, I felt immensely proud that you were my grandson. It was the moment I finally learned two things, one being that I could be proud of you for other things besides schoolwork, and the second thing being that you really were the spitting image of your parents in personality and in looks. It had just taken you some time to grow into yourself. I suppose that would be the appropriate phrase to use.

In that moment when you killed the snake, I found myself wishing more than ever that your parents could be there, but this time it wasn't so that I could see them, sane and well, but so that they could see you, grown up and brave. If they were here right now at this very moment, they would be so very proud of you, just like I am. They would have been proud of you no matter what. Clumsy and shy, or brave and outgoing, they would have simply adored you.

I know I have been tough on you and maybe harsher than was necessary, but I have learned a lot about myself, about you, and about the scary reality of life. You'd think that I, of all people, would know how short and completely realistic life could be, but I think it took that final battle and knowing that we were both facing the possibility of death to remind me once again that life is too short to expect too much from yourself or from anyone else.

You are perfect the way you are, Neville, and I am so very proud of the brave, determined, and fearless young man that you have become. I want to apologize for being so harsh on you over the years. I did just want the best for you and still do, but I realize that I came off as a very strict, stuffy perfectionist in a vulture hat. I hope you can forgive me.

I know that typically, I should be the one teaching you about life's lessons, but I think this time, you were the one to teach me and I appreciate that. I know this phrase has never been thrown around in our household very often, but I love you, Neville, no matter what.

Love, Gran

P.S. I found your toad hiding in my bed again. If you can't keep him in one place, then I think it's high time I bought you an owl.

Neville smiled to himself as he read the letter and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair he was occupying. He ran a hand through his hair and placed the letter on his lap, looking from one side to the other, taking in the sleeping forms of his parents.

That morning, he had been expecting to visit St. Mungo's with Gran like they usually did once a month, but instead, she had thrust an envelope into his hands and shooed him out the door, telling him to open the letter when and only when he had reached the ward his parents were in. Now, he was glad that he had been able to read the letter without the presence of his grandmother. For one, it would have been slightly awkward to read in front of her, and secondly, it was more significant this way; just him and his parents, even though they couldn't understand.

Neville hung around the ward for a while longer, tending to the flowers in the vases on the nightstands and adjusting his parents' sheets. When they woke up, he read them the letter. He knew they wouldn't understand, but he wanted to read it anyway. As he read the paragraph on how his parents would feel if they were well, Neville felt his throat constrict. By the time he got to 'you are perfect the way you are…I am so very proud of the brave, determined, and nearly fearless young man that you have become', his eyes were filling with tears of joy and contentment.

He felt a sudden pressure on his knee. When he looked up, both of his parents were smiling comfortingly at him, their hands lying on his knee, one on top of the other. In their minds, a friendly boy who took care of them needed comforting, but Neville knew the truth. He was their son and while his parents' touch was indeed comforting, he had already found comfort in other things. He was teary eyed because he knew he had finally found comfort. He had found comfort in reading this letter, in Dumbledore's Army, in his friends, in the Herbology greenhouses, in his grandmother, and in his parents whether they knew him or not. But most importantly, he had, for once, found comfort in being himself and now that he had found it he didn't want to ever move.