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Augusta Longbottom walked along the corridors of the empty house knowing fully well where feet were going to lead her. Every day for the past week she had walked to her grandson's bedroom door, had hovered over the doorknob only to turn away. This could happen several times in a day but it always produced the same effect. Today was going to be different though. Today she was going to be strong and enter his room. That was what she had spent years nagging him to be; strong and brave like his father. Now she wished she hadn't.

If people could see her now, they would be worried. Her hair hadn't seen a comb in days, she hadn't touched makeup for the longest period of time since she started using it and she was wearing old black robes that had faded in colour and looked more grey than anything else. It was a difference to how she was usually well made up and coiffed with elegant clothing and so on. Augusta was one to do her best to impress. Now it felt pointless.

Reaching the room, Augusta took a deep breath and opened the door.

There was no nasty shock or surprise waiting on the other side of the door. Just his bedroom as it always was. She had nagged him constantly to clean it up but he had never done anything about it and nor had she. It was a mutual agreement. She never went in there without his permission and he kept the door shut but now that agreement had terminated. It no longer applied.

Manoeuvring her way through books strewn on the floor amongst clothes and quills, Augusta was reminded that he had been a normal teenage boy though she had failed to see it until now. If she probably looked carefully enough she would find a porn stash somewhere. Even Neville had to have one. Now she was here she didn't know what to do. Would she leave it the way it was or tidy up? Looking around an envelope lying on the table caught her eye. With care not to step on anything, she made her way to the desk.

Gran.

The only thing written on the envelope. Turning it over she felt her heart swell to see the Longbottom seal. The way she had nagged on at him about his choice of career just because of the seal. The Longbottom seal wouldn't be much good to him if he was become a Herbologist she had said. To her working up high in the Ministry had been more respectable. Right now she didn't care as long as she had her grandson.

Her hands trembling she opened the letter.

Dear Gran,

If you're reading this letter, I can only presume that I'm dead or I've ended up like Mum and Dad. You wouldn't go in my room otherwise, I know you. Just in case though, if I am still alive and kicking then please put the letter down and come nag me about something. If not, then read on.

First of all, I'm sorry. I should have told you where I was really going when I left but if you let me go, you must have been gullible. It was the climax of the war and you believed I was going to spend the summer with the Weasley's, just for fun. I had to lie to you though. The war brought a change in you I had never seen. You began to encourage me to become a Herbologist and stopped telling me that I should be more like my father. It seems to you I had proved myself in my fifth year fighting against Death Eaters then. I wanted more.

I went to fight alongside Harry because that is what Dad would have done and wanted me to do. You wanted me to do that as well before but when there was an attack in Diagon Alley and we narrowly escaped death, you seemed bound on keeping me at home safe and sound. I guess I understand you in a way; you've already lost a son, I guess you don't want to lose a grandson but don't worry you haven't. You've gained one.

Before, I couldn't understand why you pushed me. I couldn't understand why you wanted me to be so good but then I grew up. I realised you wanted to see a bit of Dad in me, to remind you of the son you once had. You just wanted the best for me Gran, but you anted the best for you as well. In fifth year I didn't fight alongside Harry for the glory or to make you proud. I did it because in a way I wanted to show Bellatrix Lestrange that she had got two Longbottoms but she shouldn't forget that there was still one.

This time though, I did it for you. I did it in your honour. I didn't fight for the wizarding world. Personally I don't care about it. What has it ever done for me? Everyone thought I was stupid and wouldn't amount to much as I wizard but I bet, or at least I'm hoping, I proved them wrong. I went to get revenge for you. Actually, for you and me both. I am going to do onto them as they did onto my parents. If Lestrange survives then you can disown me. I will have failed you. But if she doesn't and even if I don't either, you can rest knowing that the woman that robbed you of your son and daughter-in-law is dead.

Please don't cry for me too much Gran. I went in knowing what I was doing. I knew I might not come out. I felt really bad but I made a decision and stuck to it. I'll be leaving you on your own but you won't really be alone. If I really die and not become insane, then know that I'll always be there watching over you. Just call my name and I'll be there. I know it sounds cheesy but I promise you that I will come. Just wish for me hard enough.

If I do end up in St. Mungo's talk to me and I'll hear you though I can't guarantee I'll respond. No matter how much I'm tortured there is one thing that I won't ever forget and that's the love you gave me. All the nagging you did, all the Howlers you've sent; I know they've been out of love. I realise that now. I used to think you hated me, now I know you're just not brilliant at expressing emotion. But I know. You never said it but I know. You love me and I have a feeling you always will, whether I'm there or not.

And guess what Gran?

I love you too. I always will.

Your grandson,

Neville.

Augusta read and read the letter over and over again.

Tears fell down her wrinkling cheeks and she did nothing to wipe them away.

Last week she had buried her grandson. After two years of fighting, his mind had given up on him. Augusta had felt like asking him why he hadn't gone for seventeen years like his parents but knew it had been right. There was nothing left for him. In those two years she hadn't come back to the house. She had spent every waking moment in London, as close as she could to her Neville. Her poor beloved Neville.

Neville had loved her. He still loved her, wherever he was. That's all she had needed to hear.

Augusta had outlived her only son. She had outlived her only grandchild.

Now she knew Neville had loved her she could finally die in peace.


A/N - I've always wondered about the relationship Neville and his gran have.