On May 3, 1998, a bruised and bloodied Neville Longbottom walks into St. Mungos hospital with his head, which is somehow still on his shoulders, held high. He makes his way to his parents’ room in the permanent ward and sits between their beds.
He tells them everything about his 6th year at Hogwarts. About Luna Lovegood (I’m so mad about her I want to save the world just so she can keeping being in it). About Dumbledore’s Army (My first friends, my best friends, the bravest people I will ever know). About the Order of the Phoenix (I know how it feels now, to be part of something bigger, so much bigger than yourself). About the Battle of Hogwarts (It’s strange, it seemed like it was over before it even started, but it also felt like it lasted a life time). About destroying the last horcrux (I swear I have never been so terrified in my entire life, and I have been terrified A LOT).
After Neville finishes his story he takes a deep breath. He knows his parents haven’t understood a thing he’s said, but it has been so much for so long and he just can’t keep it all in anymore. He had to tell someone, and it felt right, to tell them first (it really was all for them, after all). He looks up to see both his parents staring at him intently.
Alice Longbottom is smiling, she has tears in her eyes, her hands are clasped over her heart.
Frank Longbottom places his hand on his son’s shoulder, he nods and utters the first word he has spoken in years… “Proud.”