An idea that's been floating around in my head for a year. Procrastination for the win? :)

It's recently occurred to me that I have not written any Harry Potter fanfiction since joining this site (which is pretty bad, because I've been here for nearly three years and I love the books). Hence why I decided to finally write this, before school starts again and I get buried beneath a pile of homework.

Enough of my rambling. Enjoy~

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Among other things (like the fact that I'm not British, and my name isn't Joanne Rowling), I don't have a big enough imagination.

"We're going to go visit your parents today, Neville."

That one sentence is enough to make Neville Longbottom cringe, but he doesn't dare. He knows from long experience that showing displeasure over these visits is enough to send his grandmother into a rage. Instead, he nods, not meeting her eyes.

"Yes, Gran," he complies, albeit reluctantly.

Neville knows, without even looking, that his grandmother is frowning suspiciously at him. She always does when she suspects that he would rather stay home than go visit his parents. After a moment's pause, she says finally, "Well, hurry up, then. We haven't got all day."

They arrive at St. Mungo's Hospital within the hour. The witch behind the reception desk, recognizing them, gives them a small wave before turning to a giggling wizard.

Without hesitation, Neville's grandmother marches across the reception area, toward the stairs. Neville trails along behind her, staring at the ground. As they climb to the fourth floor, they meet a number of other staff members, each of whom spare them a quick, "Hello, Mrs. Longbottom, Neville," before continuing with their day's work. It seems as if all of the Healers and trainees recognize them from previous visits. Neville wonders if that's a good or bad thing.

Finally, they reach their destination, a long-term residents ward. The room is so familiar to Neville after nine years of visits that he knows it as well as his own home. He barely notices the fur-covered Agnes, or the wizard mumbling to himself near the window. He has eyes only for the two beds in the corner of the room, hidden by long curtains for private visits.

Behind that curtain, he knows, are his parents.

A Healer suddenly appears in front of them, almost as if from thin air. Neville tries to remember the motherly-looking woman's name, but it escapes him.

"Hello, Mrs. Longbottom," says the Healer brightly. "Here to visit Frank and Alice?"

Mrs. Longbottom nods stiffly.

The Healer gestures to the curtains. "Well, don't let me keep you," she says.

Again, Mrs. Longbottom nods, then crosses the room. Neville follows slowly behind her as she opens the curtains and steps inside. She takes a seat as Neville closes the curtains tightly, and he hears her say, in a less stern voice than usual, "Hello, Frank, Alice."

Neville fiddles with the curtains, reluctant to face his parents.

He hears his father mutter something incoherent in reply.

"Yes, it's me," Mrs. Longbottom confirms. "And this is Neville. You two remember Neville?"

Taking it as his cue to sit down, Neville turns away from the curtains and takes one of the two chairs sitting next to the bed. Then he looks at his parents.

Frank Longbottom has a small smile on his face, but it doesn't quite reach his empty eyes. Tufts of his gray hair are beginning to fall out – despite the care he receives at St. Mungo's, he looks frail and thin. There is no recognition in Frank's face, in his eyes, in his movements – he doesn't know that his own mother and son are sitting beside him, only that they are strangers who come to visit sometimes.

Then there is Alice. Her hair is gray and wispy, her round face, so much like her son's, blank of all emotion. She isn't even looking at her visitors, but stares blankly at the curtains that surround them, chewing something in her mouth, clutching something in her hand. She too has no idea who they are, and doesn't seem to care that they are there. She is lost in her own little world, and it does not include these two people who visit so often and care so much.

Neville's hands ball up into fists as he stares at his parents. It hurts that the people who brought him into this world no longer recognize him or care about him. He wishes one of them would say his same, give some indication that somewhere in the mist of their memory, they remember him.

But after nine years of nothing, he has given up hope for even the smallest shred of recognition. He knows better than to believe in the impossible.

After some pointless banter ("How do you feel today, Frank?" "Alice, what are you eating?") Neville's grandmother stands up. Neville begins to stand up, hoping that they will be leaving, but Mrs. Longbottom quashes his hopes when she says, "I'm just going to the bathroom. Stay here, Neville."

Slowly, Neville sits back down as his grandmother leaves. When the curtains close, he

buries his face in his hands, his eyes stinging with tears.

After a moment, he hears the creak of bed springs, and the soft padding of bare feet. When he looks up, he sees his mother standing in front of him, her hands behind her back. Although slightly taken aback, Neville doesn't let his surprise appear on his face.

"Hi, Mom," he says, almost conversationally. "What're you doing?"

Alice looks nervous, silently rocking backward and forward on her heels.

"Mom?" Neville repeats, concern creeping into his voice.

Slowly, Alice extends her closed fist toward him and opens it. In the palm of her hand sits an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper.

Neville stares at the gum wrapper. Questions whirl inside his head – What's she doing? being the chief one – but they get stuck in his throat. Instead, he looks at Alice, who watches him with wide eyes as she waits for a response.

Finally, Neville brings himself to speak. "Is that for me?" he asks in a small voice.

Alice doesn't reply with words. She never does. Instead, she looks down at the wrapper in her hand, then back at Neville imploringly.

It's answer enough.

Slowly, Neville reaches out and takes the wrapper from his mother, staring at it in wonder. Nothing like this has ever happened since his parents lost their minds. Until now.

His throat burning, Neville glances back at his mother. Alice is still watching him, a mixture of anxiety and hopefulness on her face, as if she desperately wants him to accept her gift.

Something inside Neville breaks, and suddenly, he finds himself hugging his mother for the first time, barely holding back tears of another variety.

"Thanks, Mom," he whispers to her in an unstable voice.

Alice pats him on the shoulder, and her simple, childlike smile makes Neville smile back.

Never mind that his mother still doesn't know that he is her son. Never mind the fact that she is still as insane as she has always been. Because he's sharing this moment with her now, and he has never felt happier in his life.

"Neville?"

Neville turns around to see his grandmother standing behind him, a look of utter confusion on her face. "What's going on?" she asks, almost suspiciously.

Meekly, Neville steps away from his mother and holds out the gum wrapper. "Mom gave it to me," he explains, not meeting his grandmother's eyes.

Mrs. Longbottom stares down at the gum wrapper for a moment. "Oh," she says, looking back up at Alice, who is still smiling. "Well, that's very nice, Alice dear." In an undertone to Neville, she adds, "We're going now. Better throw that out."

"But–" Neville can't believe his own ears as he tries to protest.

"It's just a gum wrapper, Neville," she says sternly.

As Mrs. Longbottom bids goodbye to her son and daughter-in-law, Neville turns away and slides the wrapper into his pocket. He knows that his grandmother is wrong. It's not just a gum wrapper. It's so much more than that, and he will never, ever throw it away.