Disclaimer: If someone told you I own Harry Potter, someone lied.
I hate potions. You might think you hate potions but it is nothing compared to the dread I feel when I enter the dungeon. I'm the only one who melted five cauldrons in a year. I'm the only one who could not even remember how to make a simple forgetfulness potion. I'm the only one who had to be taken to the hospital wing because I swallowed a newt tail by mistake. At least that is what Professor Snape tells me. He says it every class and every detention I get for my abysmal potion making.
I'm terrified of Professor Snape. Everyone says that I'm just being stupid. And a prat. I most commonly get called a prat. I suppose it's true. It all started on the first day of school. The toad my Great-Uncle Alfred gave me for getting into Hogwarts. We got off on a bad start. It was my fault, really. Who knew that toads did not enjoy being locked in a burning hot closet for over twenty hours? Look, I forgot about him, okay. Gram insisted I read over all my text books. So Trevor has been terrified of me since then.
So back to me being a prat. Everyone says that Snape is all talk and it is ridiculous to take his threats seriously. But they haven't spent three hours disemboweling toads in a dark dungeon with him leering at them. I have. I couldn't sleep properly for a week afterwards.
The week after the boggart incident was the worst. Everyone had laughed when they saw Snape in those clothes and it had been the most comfortable I had felt in any class other than Herbology.
But Snape had taken horrible revenge. He had picked on me worse than ever that week. I had finished each class white and shaking. Harry had told me to stand up for myself, that I was better than that. Snape shouldn't bother me. I suppose Harry knows what he's talking about. Snape picks on him worst than he picks on me. But Harry is also much braver and enduring than I will ever be.
He is everything a Gryffindor should be and I am not. I don't even know why the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor. He seriously considered Hufflepuff. I sometimes think that I would enjoy Hufflepuff much more but then I remember how proud my family was when they found out I got into Gryffindor, just like my parents. My Gram is endlessly comparing me to my parents. I never seem to measure up.
There is no need to tell me I'm a prat and pathetic and hopeless. I know. I've already been told by endless people. I'm just waiting to live up to the potential I supposedly have. Maybe then everyone will be proud of me. If that day ever comes.
I am Neville Longbottom, Hopeless Potions Extraordinaire, Out of Place Gryffindor, and Huge Disappointment.
A/N: I hope you like this. If you did, please review and maybe I will write more. Give me ideas.