Quick, spur of the moment little Neville exploration. The Longbottom's are my very favorite family in the entire HP series. :3
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You've always wanted me to be something I'm not, and never have I doubted why. I know that I'm not what you wanted me to be and I know that I don't live up to anything I'm supposed to. I'm not completely stupid; I happen to know that this isn't the way I was supposed to turn out. With my parents and my family and my potential, this was all supposed to be rather different, wasn't it? But they're gone, you know, they're gone and I'm still here and maybe that's why I'm not anything you want me to be. Maybe it's because I've been wanting someone my whole life to be what you all tell me I should be, but the examples are just pictures in a photo album, ghosts in the hospital, and gum wrappers under my pillow. Without them I'll never be them.
I'm pretty sure you mean well. I know you're looking out for the family, even if that's at my detriment at times. Somewhere, I know you want what's best for me, not just for your reputation. But it's hard to find that part of you. Mostly you're just another bully in my life, telling me constantly that I'm not, that I won't be, that I'm lazy and a fool and Merlin, boy, can't you even see where you're going? But I'm here, and this is what you got. You can't change this anymore, no matter how much either of us wish you could. I'm not happy either. But even so, no matter how many howlers you send, telling me over and over that I'm not getting good enough marks to follow in their footsteps, I'll never be them.
This is reality, Gran. This is the way it is. I'm grounded here, looking at the pictures of the people I'm supposed to be and holding their meaningless presents in my sweaty hands. I'm not like them. They were horribly clever and brave and strong and they were good at transfiguration and charms and defense and potions and all those things that are actually useful. Me? I'm good at stuttering and being nervous and Herbology. Plants don't talk back and as long as you pay attention to them they're pretty content with life. Even though they aren't all beautiful, they all have their purpose, and I know those purposes and I know how to manipulate them to my will. And you don't think it's useful or glamorous and it'll never get me anywhere, you say, but plants respond to me. They don't leave. They don't see me and they don't hear me stutter and they don't have any expectations that I don't live up to.
... Am I ever going to be good enough? Do you see me at all, or am I just the living manifestation of every that's wrong with your miserable life?
I'm alive. They're not. They will never be again, even if we visit every day.
I want to scream at you but I don't have the voice, I want to cry over them but I don't have the strength, I want to stop needing to be what you want me to be but I don't have the heart. You hurt just like I do, and that's why I'm just thinking all of this and not saying it. I know why you want me to be all these things - it hurts me every time I think about them, too. It must hurt you more to know there's no one fit to carry on their legacy.
I don't think it's all about me, Gran, and how I've failed. You're just not ready to let go of them yet.
Sit down, have a bubblegum wrapper. Neither of us will ever figure out why it had to happen to them, but maybe we'll figure out why both of us are still here.
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Reviews are worshipped, like chocolate and Neville Longbottom.