"I know you don't understand, I know you don't actually listen to me when I talk to you. But…I hope you're proud of me." Neville looks out the window in the hospital, thinking back to weeks ago when he was fighting in battle. "I did it, Mum and Dad, I finally fought like you guys did. And I won. Grandma says you'd be proud of me, at least I know she is now. I only wish Mrs. Weasley would have left Bellatrix to me…you deserved that much from me. I regret not being able to finish her like I vowed to, but she's dead all the same."
Mrs. Longbottom just smiles at Neville's elbow as he talks and Mr. Longbottom tries to flatten out his bed sheets with his legs still under them.
Sometimes Neville wishes they would snap out of it, like they have the option to, because he wants nothing more than for them to talk. They would be able to tell their stories about when they were in the Order and when they went to Hogwarts. They could be actual parents. Other days he just wishes they'd die already, because them being alive still gives him slim hope that they might break out of the stupor. Seventeen years of unfulfilled dreams, and yet he can't give up hope.
"I was brave, I fought alongside Auror's and skilled wizards… Kingsley even offered me a job as an Auror. I want to take it, then I'd be like you, Dad," Neville says. "I don't even have to take my NEWTs, luckily, because otherwise I would have no hope. I'm scared though…because if I fail, I'd be failing you guys again, and I don't know if I can do that to you… I want you guys to be proud of me. I still…I—I want you to know that I'm doing all of this for you two."
His mum hands Neville the button from her shirt, after working to pull it off for the past half hour. He takes it with a smile, but feels like crying.
"I used to want to…I don't know what else I've ever wanted actually, other than to impress you, to make you proud. You were so brave…and I never could be. Until now. And I know everyone's saying that's all that matters now, because I was brave when it counted the most. I'm just angry with myself for not finding my courage until seventeen years too late. I could have done more if I was just able to find it sooner, I know it. I might have even been able to save more lives at the battle…"
Neville's dad stands up from his bed, so he can go watch out the window at the empty street below, watching for cars to pass, he likes waiting for car horns.
"I even killed a bit of Voldemort, y'know. Yeah, he split his soul—something I didn't know at the time, but Harry explained it to me later on—and he put a bit of it into his snake, and I killed the snake with Gryffindor's Sword. The sword is the only reason I believe I'm brave, if it were just my friends and other fighters telling me so, I would never believe them. That sword only shows itself to true Gryffindors, courageous Gryffindors, in their time of need…and I got it. It still overwhelms me."
Neville hears the door at the end of the room open and stands up quickly, getting ready to leave. He doesn't like talking to his parents when other families are here, he like having private—one sided—conversations with them.
"Well, I just wanted you two to know what happened…I hope you're proud of me," he says firmly, trying hard to make them believe his words, still wishing they would say them back to him.
"Come on, Neville, I think it's time we leave, or we might be late to Harry and Ginny's," Luna says, finally reaching the end of the room.
"Yeah—yes, I know, I was just saying my goodbyes." He turns to her slightly, willing Luna to understand he'll be right out.
"I'll meet you downstairs then," she confirms, knowing he wants one minute more alone with them.
Once the door shuts behind her, Neville speaks again, "Goodbye, I'll try to stop by in the next week , hopefully I can bring some cake or something, to celebrate my birthday, I know you'll like it," he tells his parents, knowing they aren't really listening. "I love you," he whispers, "goodbye."