Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling. I do not own the Harry Potter series, any of its characters, etc. *sighs sadly*

Little side-note: Chronologically, this would take place somewhere around the end of the first book, so he's still 11.

Neville Longbottom had been told a lot of things in his life. He'd been told apologies for his parents' deaths, as though those saying 'sorry' were the ones that had caused it, that he was going to be hung out a window by his toes, just to see if they could get one little spark out of him ("Don't worry, my boy, I won't drop you, I swear. It's a little test- that's all."), he'd been told he was worthless and a nothing, but he'd also praised with stories of his parents' glory and bravery- oh Neville Longbottom had been told many, many things of many, many varieties.

However, two of the things that he'd been told had stuck with him, and perhaps, these little things had become his favorite numbers.

Not many people stood up for him when he was bullied, but he could always count on three people- Hermione, Harry, and Ron. Hermione was always there with a counter-curse or knowledge, Ron with his silly stories, and Harry, well, Harry had encouraging words. He'd told him once that he was worth twelve of Malfoy, and given him a chocolate frog. Neville knew that Harry might not remember that small act of kindness, but he did.

He remembered it when Malfoy pushed him around again, and although he hadn't meant to, he'd blurted it out. He'd berated himself for that, but the meaning of the words were still there, even when Crabbe and Goyle snickered, and Malfoy sneered. Because, to Harry Potter, the great, famous Boy Who Lived, little Neville Longbottom was worth 12 of someone. And that would mean the world.

Not many people commended people Neville for the things that he actually managed to accomplish. They either didn't remember, or they didn't care, or it didn't pertain to the situation. He'd always counted on Professor Dumbledore to be a great Headmaster, but he'd never thought that the man would notice something Neville had done.

Standing up to his friends, the only people he counted on, was a risk. But he had to take it for his house. In the end, he'd failed. Or so he'd thought. Because, while he'd felt awful afterwards (and hadn't really enjoyed Hermione's petrification curse either), the ten points he'd earned for his house proved that he really had made a difference after all. Ten points weren't really much, but for the lions of Gryffindor house and Neville Longbottom on that day, they were worth more than all the gold that the Sorcerer's Stone could've produced. (Not literally, of course.)

In the end, being worth 12 of Malfoy, one of the biggest jerks Neville had met, to Harry Potter, and making 10 points a difference to a whole house of people, it hadn't been a bad first year, and those were some good things people had said to him to remember.

Sorry if this wasn't really all that coherent- I was re-reading the first Harry Potter book, and I was like 'Hey, why not write a drabble about Neville?' I hope you guys liked this, and, please favorite, and review if you have any tips on how to be more organized. Merry-sort-of-belated-Christmas, GriffinGirl8655