The first time Neville could remember going to visit his parents, he was four years old. He didn't like St. Mungo's at all- it smelled of sick people, and potions, and the stringent scent that was left behind by the constant use of cleaning charms. Wrinkling his nose, he put another piece of drooble's best blowing gum in his mouth, pocketing the wrap to throw away later. It made everything he ate taste of pineapple afterwards, but he thought it was worth it if it masked the unsettling hospital smell.

He didn't understand why his parents had to be here; why couldn't they come stay at home where it was nice? Then they could all sit by the fire and listen to one of Uncle Algie's stories, or look for frogs in the back garden together. Why did they like it here better? It certainly didn't smell welcoming, and all the grownups were always so stern-faced and sad. Neville looked around the ward, and a mediwitch who caught his eye gave him a thin smile as she arranged several vials on a tray.

Gran gave him another tug, telling him for merlins sake don't dawdle in the corridors, they were nearly there. He trotted along a little faster then, he knew how Gran detested being late. Now focused on keeping up with Gran's pace, they arrived in front of a door marked 'Longbottom' in what seemed like no time at all.

They stepped inside quietly. The room was nearly bare, with just a few chairs and a side table across from where Alice and Frank Longbottom lay silently in their seperate beds. At the sound of the door closing, there had been no acknowledgement of their presence other than a small, scared whine from Frank. Neville's timid 'hullo!', as prodded by Gran, only served to rouse them slightly more. They didn' smile, nor did they greet him back. Alice flinched as if expecting a blow of some sort, and Frank worried a nail between his teeth, eyes frantically bouncing across the room searching for something Neville and Gran couldn't see.

It was a long afternoon. Neville's parents acted so strangely and he hadn't a clue why. Fathers were supposed to be strong and stern (but still a bit fun!), but Frank was nothing like that. He curled in on himself in bed, and cried, and screamed if Gran moved too fast or spoke too loudly. And mothers, Neville knew, were supposed to be warm and soft and kind. They were supposed to sing lullabyes and spell your tea warm, but Neville's mum wouldn't make a sound the entire visit. She would sometimes yank at her hair so hard that it would come off in chunks, and she couldn't even feed herself, much less others. And several times it seemed as if they didn't know who he was at all. No matter how many times Gran would say he was Neville, Alice, your son Neville. Look how much he's grown, Frank. They just kept on in their stilted, broken down way. It hurt to look at, and he knew when they readied themselves to leave that he and Gran had the same sad faces as the others walking the corridors of St. Mungo's.

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Too long, and too soon, and Neville found himself and Gran on another visit to Alice and Frank Longbottom's permanent room in the incurable spell damage ward. Gran had explained to him since then about his parents, but he still couldn't quite understand. How could someone do something so bad that it left his parents like...that? But still he nodded his head, filled his pockets with gum, and trotted down the melancholy halls to stand awkwardly while his parents withered away in a silent room.

But today it was not silent. The closer they got to the room, the louder the shrieks and cries rang out in the corridor. Nev

ille couldn't make out what was being said, it was just a string of babbling without words, just pain and scared and sadness filling out into his ears. He clutched his Gran's robes as mediwitches rushed by with vials and wands and grim faces. Neville and Gran had to stay back until they had the situation calmed, and for ten whole minutes Neville cried into her side while the screaming was blocked out by a silencing charm.

They didn't get to visit that day.

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The next visits were calmer. Today Gran was able to talk to Frank- well, at Frank- with no major meltdowns, and Alice had taken to fretfully stroking Neville's hair as he sat next to her bed, thankfully without any of the pulling she did to her own. Quiet as the room was, Neville could hear Gran making commentary on the recent stories of the Daily Prophet. It was all boring adult stuff though, like the rising price of newt eggs (I just can't abide this madness, dear. 2 whole sickles for an ounce, it's practically robbery!) or how a relative was doing this or that. With a sigh, he took out another piece of gum, fiddling with the crinkly wrapper in his fingers as he chewed.

The sound must have bothered Gran, because she turned from her spot between the hospital beds to give him a pointed look. He couldn't help it, she knew he was bored and uncomfortable, so she wasn't at all harsh when she reached her hand out and told him to give her the wrap. She patted his hand with a weary smile, pocketing it in her robes, and it was then that Neville noticed his mother watching the entire exchange. Her eyes, glazed as they were, roved over them curiously.

Neville didn't quite know what to do.

In a moment of panic, he reached into his robes and clumsily fished out another piece of gum, holding it out in an awkward offering. She took it immediately. Alice of course, paid no mind to Gran's distress at handing small chokeable objects to hospital patients. Neville grimaced, mouthing an apology to Gran. Honestly, how stupid could he be? But if it was taken away now, there would be a fit like no other, and no one wanted that, so the two had to make do with watching the woman very carefully.

Alice didn't seem to care much for eating the gum, actually. She took the little glob and tucked it neatly as she could in a little side tray. The big prize to her, it seemed, was the wrap. Her frail fingers, jerky and trembling, gave the blue foil a little crinkle before looking at it, then to Gran and Neville. And then, with a ghost of a smile-more a twitch of the lips, but Neville would take what he could get- she reached out almost reverently to place it in Neville's palm. She even gave it a little pat afterwards. Another twitch and a proud nod to herself, and Alice drifted slowly back, but it was more than enough for the little boy seated beside her.

Even after they left the ward, Neville would not let his Gran take the wrap, still clutched firmly in his little hand. He wouldn't give it up for the world. She gave it to him, and really truly meant to. And for just a moment she felt almost like a real mother who would look at their child and smile and give them little gifts with a pat. He didn't care if it was just a gum wrapper; he was keeping it, thank you very much.

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After that, Neville wasn't so wary of visits any more. He would sit with his parents and talk like Gran did, or just be there quietly while Alice pet his hair. They weren't the usual kind of parents, but they were his and he still loved him. And when he was old enough to be told how they ended up in that ward, he was even more proud. They could have given up and just died, but they fought and lived. Even if they struggled and couldn't take care of themselves anymore, every visit over the years proved over and over again to Neville how brave they were. They were his heroes. Through all of it, they were still fighting. And through all of it, all the terror and pain, they still cared.

It was faint, and glazed over, so small that someone could mistake it as trivial. But Neville held on to every gum wrapper, merlin knew how Alice kept getting hold of them, and remembered the time when he was four years old and felt the love in his mother's eyes as she gave him the best she had.

A/N: If there's any glaring errors or just anything that doesn't read or look right, let me know and I will do my best to fix it! If people like this enough, I'll try and do a companion piece from Alice's POV :D