The days following the final battle with Voldemort's forces were characterized by a flurry of activity. The wizarding world was eager to rebuild, while Harry helped the ice people and the Trazkabanian sorceres to honor and bury their dead. Bella had woken up on the same day that Harry had; her injury was quickly mended, and the doctors had merely let her sleep to let the blood-replenishing potion they had given her do its work.
Those Death Eaters and dark creatures who were left alive after the battle at the Ministry were taken into custody and transported over to Azkaban, where Captain Nailoff and his regiment of soldiers once more turned the fortress into a prison. They would remain there until such a time that arrangements with the Ministry of Magic could be made. And when all was said and done, it all came down to numbers. Numbers on a report that Harry was given, and that he had forwarded to Cuthbert Mockridge. Numbers he was still staring at as he sat in his office unmoving.
Ten-thousand, six hundred and twenty-seven: The number of dark creatures killed, including Dementors, giants, werewolves, vampires, and others.
Four-hundred and eleven: The number of enemies captured.
Two-thousand, three hundred, and nine: The number of injured.
And five thousand, one-hundred, and sixteen: The number of dead ice soldiers, aurors, sorcerers, and goblins who had fought at his side.
That last one had him nauseous for days.
Now that most of the cleanup was done and everyone was busy going back to their lives before the war, there were only a few last things to take care of. Harry stood up and left the room when the clock chimed. Today was the day that they would be waking up Frank and Alice Longbottom. Neville was waiting for him outside his door, and quickly fell into step with Harry as they made their way down to the medical ward. Bella was waiting for them when they arrived, a flask of silvery liquid in her hand.
"You ready?" Harry asked. The question was directed at Bella as much as it was at Neville.
Neville paused, looking at his parents' still forms. "Yeah. Let's do it."
Bella carefully dripped the potion down into the Longbottoms' mouths before setting the flask on a nearby table. "Now all we can do is wait," she announced.
Almost three hours later, the Longbottoms began to stir. The nurse who was monitoring them immediately called Bella and Harry. Neville was still in the room, sitting with his parents, when Harry entered. Bella had decided to wait outside, and Harry had agreed that it would be for the best. She had come a long way from the dark witch who had been Voldemort's right-hand woman, but the Longbottoms didn't know that. Yet, Harry amended silently. He looked on from the sidelines as Neville and the nurse gently coaxed Frank and Alice Longbottom out of their decade-long coma.
"Hey, Dad, Mom," Neville whispered, a broad smile on his face as their eyes blinked open. He flitted from one bed to the next, turning his head around to alternate looking at his mother and father.
"Wh-where am I?" Frank Longbottom croaked, his voice raspy. The nurse quickly held up a glass of water for him, and he sipped through the proffered straw greedily.
"You're in Nair'i'caix," Neville explained.
"Neville?" his father seemed to just have realized who he was looking at.
"Yes, Dad." The pudgy boy grinned broadly as he was pulled into a tight hug. Not too long after, Alice Longbottom woke up, and Neville was pulled into a three-way hug as the nurse darted around, trying to perform a checkup on the two elder Longbottoms. Finally, she gave up and allowed the three to have their moment together before she interrupted them, an apologetic smile on her lips.
Harry watched for a few minutes longer, before turning around and leaving. He didn't need to see more. Whatever else was said was between Neville and his parents.
A knock on Harry's door caused him to look up from the reports he was reading. He hadn't realized just how much work it was to rule over the entirely of the holdings of House Polairix until it had actually landed on his desk. He was just glad that Queen Xerina and Count Hiscophney were quite capable of managing their respective nations by themselves, so the only thing he had to deal with was the fallout from the battle at the Ministry.
"Come in," he shouted.
The door cracked open, admitting both of Neville's parents. They were out of the wheelchairs they had been in for the first few days while the doctors and nurses worked at restoring the muscle mass and motor functions they had lost during the years they had laid in a coma. And while they still looked a little haggard, they were looking much better than they had just a few days ago.
Harry smiled at them. He had never seen Neville so happy ever since he met him, and, by extension, he had never seen Bella so… free, either. One of the greatest burdens on her soul had been lifted with this act and Neville's forgiveness, and he was grateful to his friend for that. Neville and Bella had had a long talk the day she had woken up from the injuries she'd received down in the ruins of Azkaban. Harry didn't know any details, he just knew that the two had been locked in a room for a good two hours, and when they'd come out, both of them had looked very relieved.
Bella had only told him that she'd apologized to Neville for what she had done, but not much more. Harry cornered his friend later on and managed to wring out a little more out of Neville. He'd told Harry that he and Bella had talked about the crimes she'd committed while she had served Voldemort, and her need to make amends. Harry had been fully prepared to deal with the potential fallout from that, as well, when Neville had surprised him. He'd told him that he'd forgiven Bella. Sure, she had done some horrible things, Neville had said, but that was the past. Nothing could be done to change it now, and everything she had done, everything she had risked in turning against Voldemort had gone a long way to making up for it.
But what had shocked Harry was Neville's parting comment, when the boy had told him that he didn't hate Bella. He didn't hate her, because she made Harry happy, and Neville was glad that his friend had found some peace in his life. He wasn't about to take that away to hold on to a grudge that would serve no purpose. Besides, Neville had admitted to Harry, he had suspected that Bella had been suffering from a form of psychosis while she was serving Voldemort; now that it was gone, she was a different person, someone he just couldn't hold accountable for the actions of a crazed mind.
That right there had told Harry one thing: Neville Longbottom would go on to be a great man. The kid was more generous, more forgiving than anyone Harry had ever met, and displayed a maturity in his decisions that most adults were sorely lacking. Most would hate Bella, despite everything she'd done. Heck, Bella hated Bella for what she'd done, but Neville had merely told her it would serve no purpose. She was good for Harry, and they both deserved a break, and that was that. Harry had been stunned, not even remembering to return Neville's wave as the boy took off to look after the Legion.
"Hey. What can I do for you?"
"Harry Potter…" Alice Longbottom smiled. "We had a long talk with Neville about what we missed. We just came by to thank you."
Harry shrugged. "I wish I could say it was nothing… but Voldemort was one annoying son-of-a-" he broke off abruptly. "Anyway, where are my manners? Please, have a seat." He gave his wand a quick wave when they had both settled in on the other side of his desk, conjuring up three cups of tea.
"We just wanted to talk to you," Frank Longbottom said as his wife picked up her teacup. "We heard a lot from Neville. We also heard quite a bit about what happened to you lately."
"Your parents would be proud of you, Mr. Potter," Alice added, "Everything you've accomplished, every hardship you've fought through… even against the judgment of the wizarding world." She chuckled. "Especially against the judgment of the wizarding world. You're so much like James…"
"So I'm told," Harry replied with a weary smile. He got that a lot. "I like to think, though, that most of the people I know would've done the same. Your son is a good friend, and a good man. You have every reason to be proud of him, as well."
"We are," Frank said. "Believe me, we are. I almost couldn't believe it when he told us he was heading a secret DADA organization at school. I mean, the last time we saw him, he was a toddler!"
Alice nodded in agreement. "And you sell yourself short, Mr. Potter. Not many people, today or during the first war, would have had the guts and the strength to stand up to Lord Voldemort. It's true, the people around you have stood up for themselves, but I do believe that is mainly because of you. This entire victory, the defeat of Voldemort, was entirely due to you. You inspire the people who follow you. You lead them by example. They're willing to give their lives, not because they believe in their cause, but because they believe in you ."
Harry blinked, trying to digest that. "Now you're really giving me too much credit," he chuckled weakly. "There are a lot of people who have the strength to fight for what's right, if given the right circumstances."
"Then let us just be thankful that it was you who was in the right circumstances, and not someone else."
Harry debated for a long moment whether to tell them of the prophecy. He finally decided that it was something they could do without. They didn't need the burden of knowing just how close Neville had actually come to be in Harry's shoes. "I am," he finally told the Longbottoms. "I am grateful that it was me, because I wouldn't wish this burden on anyone else."
Alice smiled at him. "And that, Harry Potter, is what makes you a great young man."
They remained in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Harry spoke up again. "Did you give your return to the wizarding world any thought? I mean, practically all of them think I've kidnapped you for my own nefarious purposes."
The Longbottoms shared a quick look, before Alice grinned. "We would be glad to inform the public of their… misconceptions."
"Though we hear from Neville that you've made quite some headway with the new Minister, yourself," Frank commented with a knowing grin.
"Bert is a little more… sensible than the rest of the wizarding world." Harry chuckled in agreement. "His help has gone a long way to uniting all the magical creatures and bring us all together enough to fight Voldemort effectively."
"What about yourself, though?" Alice asked, looking around the sparse office curiously. "Have you thought of returning?"
Harry gave the woman a look that clearly said are you kidding me? "I don't think I'd be the most welcome person there right now. In fact, I think my popularity is at rock bottom, possibly even lower than Voldemort." He cleared his throat.
"Seriously? How can that be?" Alice was dumbfounded at his utter conviction. "I mean, you just fulfilled a decades-old prophecy, defeated the greatest dark wizard in centuries, and have united the wizarding world. Surely the people-"
"The people are idiots," Harry cut her off abruptly. "Not to be rude, but you haven't seen first hand how stupid they can be. Print something in the newspaper, and they believe it like it was the holy scriptures."
"From what it sounded like, Voldemort had a surprisingly easy time discrediting you," Alice noted.
"Yes, but that wasn't because Voldemort was good at it. Hell, look at what Fudge made the people believe about me when he was Minister. One would almost think I ate small children for breakfast," Harry explained darkly. "No, Voldemort played to everyone's fears, but those fears were in place long before this whole mess began. No offense, but I've found out the hard way that most wizards are cowards. Whenever someone appears who seems to be able to do something they can't, they immediately fear them. Oh sure, they did hero-worship me for a while after I defeated Voldemort the first time, but that was quickly replaced by the fear that I would replace him. And when I told them Voldemort was back at the end of my fourth year…" Harry shrugged. "Let's just say people didn't want to leave their comfortable little worlds and admit that Voldemort was back."
Frank looked skeptical. "I find it hard to believe the public was so easily swayed…"
"Oh, believe me, it wasn't hard," Harry snorted derisively. "All it took was one allegation. Look at how quickly my supposed friends turned on me. To this day, the Weasleys, except for the twins and Ginny, resent me. Hell, even Ginny believed I was evil until the evidence stared her right in the face, and all of them have known me for years, practically grew up with me. And let's not even get started on the Order of the Phoenix. Despite the fact that Voldemort admitted to framing me, they still believe that I'm out to replace him. So, no, I'm not all that eager to return to the wizarding world."
Frank and Alice blinked in surprise at that. Harry spread his arms, gesturing all around him. "Here, I have people who like me, not for being the Boy-Who-Lived, not for defeating Voldemort, but for who I am. They respect me for what I can do, but they're not afraid of me. Here, I have friends, I have found a family, and I have found love, something I've never had in the wizarding world. Why would I leave all that behind?"
"What about closure?" Alice finally asked. "Don't you feel the need to… tie up loose ends, as it were? Even if you have already decided to remain here, aren't there a few things left to do for you in the wizarding world?"
"Not to mention," her husband added, "that you could do so much good in the world. The wizarding world could learn so much from you, not just about courage and integrity, but also about tolerance. Look at what you accomplished in so little time - you could do a whole lot more in the years to come."
Harry shook his head decisively. "While it's true that there's some things I have to deal with still, I don't think I'll return. Sure, I might be able to make a difference, but to what end? In the end, it's the people's decision. I can't force them to learn tolerance, I can't force them to stand up for what's right. That's something they have to do for themselves. Besides, if this war has taught me one thing, then it's to be selfish."
"Selfish?" Frank echoed, puzzled.
"Yes." Harry smirked knowingly. "After all the wizarding world did to me, after all they accused me of, after all the betrayal… did you really expect me to kill Voldemort for them? Please, I'm no saint." He found a perverse sense of pleasure in seeing the Longbottoms' eyes widen in surprise. "I did it for myself. I killed him in revenge for my parents, for my godfather… for threatening my wife and child. For the people who followed me."
"W-what?"
Alice glanced at her husband with a look of disbelief. "What do you mean, for the people who follow you?"
"The sorcerers of Trazkaban, the Ice people…" Harry leaned forward, taking a sip of his now-cold tea. "They went to war with Voldemort for me, without me having asked them, because they felt that it was the right thing to do. Count Hiscophney and Queen Xerina hate oppression and xenophobia and all that Voldemort stood for. They didn't go to war for me, or because of me, but for themselves. They did it because it was the right thing to do, and I just happened to share their ideals. They threw their support behind me, respected me, and ultimately, sacrificed for me and the wizarding world. Same thing with the goblins. They didn't have to come to the final battle, but they did. Eight hundred and seventeen goblins died to free the wizarding world from Voldemort, after all that the wizarding world did to them. Do you think wizards would've been so generous if the roles were reversed? I don't think so. That is what I fight for. Not the wizarding world. Not the people who sit idly by and let children fight their battles for them, or who oppress other races, maybe not in the way Voldemort did, but in other ways. I fight for those who fight for me. That's all."
When Neville's parents remained silent, Harry smirked. "Not quite as noble as you had expected me to be?"
"No… not really," Frank finally muttered.
Harry shrugged. "Honestly, I don't really care anymore. I've gotten past the point of caring what other people think of me. I had to, in order to survive," he finished grimly.
"I supposed so," Alice admitted. "And from what it sounds like, you have every right to be angry at the wizarding world."
The words reminded him so much of what Hermione had told him weeks ago, when she'd tried to get him to vent the anger and betrayal he felt on her, and Harry chuckled. "Angry? No, not really. Frustrated? Yes. Infuriated? Definitely. But I came to realize that you've got to help yourself before you help others, and if the wizarding world doesn't want to help itself, well… they got lucky my interests intersected with theirs, no matter how much they screwed me over."
Alice recovered first and managed to put a slightly forced smile on her face. "Nevertheless, your parents would be proud."
Before she could say anything more, the door cracked open a bit, and Bella stuck her head in. "Harry? Can I-" the dark haired witch trailed off as she stared at the two Longbottoms, caught like a deer in a headlight.
The Longbottoms stared back with a similar expression that quickly turned to hatred, but before they could say anything, Bella quickly excused herself and closed the door. They turned around to stare at Harry, who looked back, an unspoken challenge in his eyes for them to dare say anything.
"What is she doing here?" Frank demanded.
Harry noticed the hostile look in their eyes and sighed. He and Bella had hoped that they could avoid having the Longbottoms run into the former dark witch, and she'd done a pretty good job of avoiding them for the last few days. Bound to happen, though, Harry admitted silently. It wasn't like they could keep it a secret forever. Bah, forever. A few days more would've been enough, he amended sourly.
"She's my wife," Harry told them evenly.
Both of his visitors blinked, looking at each other and then back at him in unison. It would have been comical, had the situation not been so tense. "I don't think I heard you correctly, Mr. Potter," Frank said. "I could have sworn you said that she's your wife."
"Your hearing's fine, Mr. Longbottom. Bellatrix Potter is my wife. Of, oh, around ten months now."
"Your… what ?" Frank hissed. "Are you out of your mind?!"
"I'm feeling quite sane, thank you," Harry replied acerbically. He'd seen the expression that had crept up on his two houseguests' faces a hundred times. It was the same look of disbelief and hatred that Ron Weasley gave him these days.
"What do you think you're doing ? That woman is a demon! She's worse than the dark lord!"
"She's my wife, and I'd appreciate it if you could keep your opinion of her to yourself."
"She's a twisted, evil bitch! What did she do to you? Blackmail you? Torture you?" Frank's eyes widened in horror. "She seduced you, didn't she! Can't you see what she's doing? She's just trying to use you to-"
Harry slammed his palms on the table as he stood, his chair sliding out from under him. "That's quite enough," he said calmly, his face neutral. "Despite the fact that your question is unwarranted and does not deserve an answer, let me put you at ease. She has not manipulated me in any way, and she's certainly not out to rule the world, unlike a certain evil maniac we all know who's now dead, thanks in great part, to her ."
"She is much worse than the dark lord ever was," Alice joined in, "while Voldemort just kills his enemies, she… she relishes their agony. She'll torture you to the point of death, only to heal you and torture you again - look at what she did to us !"
Harry sighed. He could understand where they came from, but it was that precise attitude that had caused the wizarding world so much trouble. "Yes, I am fully aware of what she has done in the past. But are you aware of what she has done during the past year? Let me tell you, then. She has risked her life in becoming my informant within Voldemort's ranks. She provided me with information about raids and attacks that have allowed the Ministry, the Order, or myself to prevent them from happening. She has single-handedly saved thousands of lives. And you know what? After I was thrown into Azkaban, she was fully prepared to die by my hand to atone for what she did. She taught me what I needed to learn to break out of that god-forsaken place."
"She-"
"It's because of her that I'm still here, still alive. She was there when the rest of the world, my so-called friends and family," Harry spat angrily, "gave a damn about me. If it was up to them, I'd be a rotting corpse in Azkaban by now. When the whole world was prepared to lock me up as their scapegoat, she saved me. And you know what? She didn't do it to save her own skin - she did it to save a kid who'd been wrongly condemned. Do you have any idea what she went through these last twenty years?"
"Frankly, Mr. Potter, I couldn't care less what that… woman went through. She has inflicted enough pain and harm on the rest of us that the best place for her would be six feet underground," Frank snarled.
"Manic Schizoaffective Disorder," Harry said calmly.
"What?"
"It's a form of psychosis where the individual suffers from severe mood swings, manic episodes, and epileptic symptoms. The behavior can, in extreme cases, be very violent, and the individuals affected usually lack a sense of self-fulfillment. They seek self-gratification any way they can… usually in violence," Harry replied. Hermione had done some research into Bella's state of mind after he'd shared his suspicions about Bella's extreme behavior during her service to Voldemort.
"A… a mood swing ?" Alice shrieked. "You call what she did to us a mood swing ?!"
"And we're supposed to just believe she had a change of heart just out of the blue?" Frank shook his head as he comforted his wife.
"Fifteen years in Azkaban will do that to you," Harry told him dryly. "Imagine living through fifteen years of hell. I was in the presence of Dementors in my third and fourth year at Hogwarts, and just one of them managed to knock me unconscious. A dozen of them, and I thought I was going insane. Fifteen years, and hundreds of Dementors change any person." Ask Sirius, Harry almost added, the thought of his dead godfather sending a stab of pain through him.
"That's exactly why we send criminals there!" Frank shouted. "That's what they deserve!"
"And innocent children?" Harry shot back acerbically.
Frank took a deep breath and rose to his feet, pulling his wife up with him. "I can't believe I just heard you correctly, Mr. Potter. I was wrong. Neville is wrong. The wizarding world is right about you. You've let the power go to your head, and now you're defending a woman who has a history of torturing and killing others. Your parents would be ashamed of you - cavorting with a dark witch, letting her seduce you. You disgust me. I am taking my family and leaving. If I ever see you again, I will personally put an end to you."
Harry remained seated behind his desk, leaning back in his chair casually, but underneath the table, he had his wand within reach. "Do whatever you like, Mr. Longbottom. I owe no one an explanation, and to be perfectly frank, I don't care what you think of me. If I did, I'd still be in Azkaban and most likely dead, you'd still be in a coma or dead, and Voldemort would have control of the country." He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the older man. "Neville is always welcome here, but as long as you show this kind of attitude for my wife, then you are not. A word of warning, though… I don't take well to threats."
Frank glared back at him and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Harry let out an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes, letting himself slump in his chair.
"Didn't go well, I take it?"
Harry's eyes snapped open as he looked up. Narcissa was standing inside the doorway the Longbottoms had just left through, a wry look on her face. "What gave it away?" Harry asked dryly. "The shouting, or the slamming door?"
"Actually, he almost shoved me down the stairs as he passed me," Narcissa replied, then held up a hand quickly when Harry began to rise, an angry expression on his face. "Don't. I'm all right." She walked over and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.
Harry sighed and sat back down, as well. "Yeah, well, it doesn't really matter to me what they think of me, but…"
"You had hoped they'd be as forgiving as their kid?" Narcissa chuckled humorlessly. "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, Harry. You'll find a big difference between this new generation of yours and us old-timers. You children are much more tolerant than we'll ever be, I'm afraid. It's just the way we were raised."
Harry nodded gravely, then leaned forward. "How are you holding up? I didn't get a chance to talk to you since Draco's funeral."
"I'm… okay," she said hesitantly. "He is… was my son, and it hurts. Oh Merlin, it hurt, seeing him lying there on that slab…"
"I'm sorry," Harry began, only to be waved off.
"He chose his path. I knew full well what could happen once I left Lucius. Draco… he was always so much like his father. Ambitious, easily tempted." Narcissa managed a weak smile. "I… I probably failed him as a mother."
Harry just sat there, staring at her for a few moments, unsure of what to do. The Draco he'd known had always been a jerk, and he couldn't really imagine him as anything else. Finally, he settled on covering her hand with his. "I don't think you did," he told her. "You made some bad choices that allowed him - and you - to be influenced by Voldemort, but in the end, he was responsible for his own way in life."
"I know." Narcissa smiled at Harry. "I never really said thank you, did I? For what you did for me."
"You needed help. I was able to," Harry shrugged. "I am… glad I did."
"So am I."
"Neville, we're leaving. Pack your things. Right now."
The boy looked up, startled at the angry look in his father's eyes. "What?"
"You heard me, Neville. Pack your things. We're leaving this place."
"Why? I thought the doctors said-"
"Your friend is an evil maniac," Frank hissed angrily. "I can't believe he actually had you fooled! What did your grandmother teach you?"
"What?" Neville's eyes were wide. "What are you talking about?"
"That… that woman !" Frank spat. "Lestrange!"
"You mean Bella?"
"You know her?"
"Well… yes." Neville shrugged. "She's Harry's wife. It's kind of hard not to know her."
"You-"
Neville sighed as he realized what his parents's problem was. "Look, please, just calm down and listen-"
"You knew that woman was here all this time and didn't tell us?!"
"We knew you'd react this way, and-"
"She's dangerous !" Alice cried. "She almost killed us!"
"She took us away from you for the last fifteen years," Frank added.
Neville set himself. The discussion he'd had with Bella hadn't been easy on him, but he'd come to realize a few home truths. Holding grudges for what was in the past didn't help in looking towards the future - that was one of them. "That was a long time ago," he began. "She's different now."
"No, she's not!" Frank snarled, almost grabbing Neville by his lapels. "People like them don't ever change! All they want is to kill and torture others for their own perverse pleasure!"
"She's not like that, not anymore," Neville defended, but he couldn't really get another word off before his father slapped him.
"Has she gotten to you, too? What, is she sleeping with every goddamn kid in this castle?" Frank screamed. His wife tried to place a hand on his arm, but he shook it off. "What the hell is the matter with you, Neville? That woman put us in a coma for the last fifteen years, and you're defending her!"
"Dad-"
"No, Neville, we're going, right now!"
The boy frowned. His parents were mad - beyond mad, even, and he couldn't really fault them. But couldn't they see that it would only do harm for them to hold on to their hatred? It wasn't as if they had to suddenly start liking Bella - Neville was far from it, himself, but they were cordial, even friendly at times. It had lifted a terrible burden from his shoulders when he'd agreed to let the past go, a burden he'd not even been aware he'd been carrying. He'd been tense every time Bella had entered the room, but now, that tension was gone, replaced by pride… in himself, that he'd managed to jump beyond his own shadow, and at her, for managing to turn her life around. And it felt good.
"No, Dad," he whispered.
"What?"
"I said, no, I'm not leaving, Dad."
"What did you say?"
Neville blinked in confusion. He just knew he'd just said that clearly. "I said-"
"I heard what you said! You're coming with us, young man, and there'll be no discussion! With any luck, we can undo whatever brainwashing she did to you."
"I wasn't-"
Neville suddenly found himself being dragged along as his parents stormed out of the room towards the fireplace in the main hall. When they stopped, he finally managed to get his arm out of his father's vise-like grip. "I wasn't brainwashed, Dad!"
"Of course you were!" Frank told him in a tone that brooked no argument. "Why else would you be going along with the Potter boy? All this time you've been telling me the wizarding world's gone mad when it's you who's gone mad! They are right, that Potter boy is a menace!"
"Harry isn't a menace, Dad-"
Frank spun around, glaring at his son. "He's gone dark! He's bloody married to a dark witch, and the worst of them all! I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to get you to practice the dark arts, either!"
"No, Dad, listen to me," Neville argued, standing his ground. "Harry's not evil, and Bella's not who she was years ago. Can't you see? People change-"
"Damn right they do," Frank agreed. " You changed, Neville. If I were you, I'd have killed her the first time I saw her!"
"Frank!" Alice cried in shock.
"Dammit, Dad, listen to me! I've had my differences with Bella, but you know what? Despite what she did to you, despite everything else she's done in the past… it's just that. The past. She was sick, Dad, very sick, for a long time-"
"Sick in the head is more like it-"
"Yes, Dad. Maybe Harry explained it to you, but Bella wasn't herself, really herself when she did all those things. But ever since… ever since Harry was thrown into Azkaban, she's been there for him, she's helped us out a lot. In fact, I don't think we could've won without her. She's been trying to come to terms with what she's done and atone for it all this time, Mom, Dad."
" She is trying to come to terms with what she's done?" Alice howled, "What about us ! We're the victims! She took fifteen years with our son away from us, and nothing can ever bring them back! You're telling us to just forgive and forget?"
"No," Neville shook his head. "Not to forget. I don't think any of us can ever forget. But if you keep being so angry all the time, if you keep up hating her… it's - it's not good for you. I wanted to hate her for so long, you know, for what she did to you, but you know what? When it came down to it, when I had my wand pointed at her and she was ready to die? I couldn't do it. She's done so much to make up for the past, and there's so much more she could do. She wasn't herself when she did those terrible things, but she's herself now, and the worst punishment, something she doesn't deserve, is to live with the guilt and hate of her past. No one deserves that."
His parents stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You… you… you're not our son!" Frank yelled, rearing back to slap Neville again, only to find the boy's arm blocking his swing.
"I love you, Mom, Dad. I really do. But I can't hate Bella. I can't hate her, because it's not going to do anyone any good."
"It'd sure make me feel good to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze," Frank muttered
angrily.
"Mom, Dad, can't you see? If you just keep on hating and hating forever, you'll end up just like the people we just fought against. They hate for hate's sake. I can't do that, I don't want to do that."
"We don't hate her for hate's sake, son," Alice told him quietly, "we hate her because of what she is."
"You hate her because of what she was," Neville corrected. "You haven't even given her a chance!"
"Why should we?" Frank shot back.
"Because she cured you. She brought you back to me. She healed you, developed and brewed the potion that restored both your sanity."
"And that makes it all right? The hell it does!"
"She makes Harry happy," Neville added.
"What?" His father looked at him, staring in disbelief, unable to believe what his son had just told him. "She… makes… Potter… happy?" he echoed.
"Yes. Harry's never been happy before in all the time I've known him. With all the crap he's gone through so far, he deserves to be happy," Neville explained.
"Potter? I don't give a damn about Potter's happiness! The damn kid corrupted my son!" Frank shouted.
Neville's eyes narrowed. That was the exact same attitude that had landed Harry in the mess that was his life to begin with. People just saw the Boy-Who-Lived and what he could do for them, and damn the cost to Harry. He'd been used, abused, and tossed aside when convenient by the wizarding world. "You should," Neville said quietly. "You should care about his happiness, and you know why? Because he's my friend. He's my family. And it's thinking like yours that made him into who he is today, because people didn't care about him, just what he could do for them."
"Neville-"
"No, Dad. Please, don't make me choose between you and Harry." Neville turned around and walked off.