History Doesn't Always Repeat Itself

"But how do you know for sure, Harry?!"

Neville took a deep breath. Leaving his bed as quietly as possible, so as not to wake up his roommates. Glancing at their sleeping forms, Neville sighed – two beds were empty; they always seemed to be.

"I trust him."

Carefully crossing the mass of clothing and books on the floor, Neville opened the door and crept out into the hallway, heading for the staircase.

"But you never know what he can do..."

"It's happened before, mate."

"History repeats itself."

Pausing, Neville heard voices. He couldn't very well pass through if there were people there. He wasn't normally noticed, but, at this hour, anyone would be interrogated about where they were going.

"You may be smart 'Mione, but you sure aren't a Seer."

He couldn't help it – Neville slowly inched closer and leaned against the wall, pressing his ear against it and listening to what the trio was saying.

"We're just trying to be careful though!"

Neville bit his lip. He was beginning to piece together what they were talking about. From what he's learnt from earlier on and this, Neville had a vague idea what was being argued.

"I know he wouldn't though."

Glancing down at his watch, Neville saw that it midnight was fast approaching. Neville wondered how much longer they would stay up arguing.

"That's what your father though before, and look what happened!"

"Just stop and think about it. She has a point."

Neville wondered if he would even go at all. He hadn't been all that sure in the first place, but had decided to try and see.

"Believe me – he wouldn't betray us."

Now he was having second doubts. Harry believed in him. And Neville felt a sudden desire to prove Hermione and Ron wrong as well.

"But Harry -"

However, he couldn't help but wonder what he could gain if he went along with his original plan. If he went, he might for once get something and be welcomed, rather than shunned.

"You don't know what he's been through."

Neville winced – it was true. Nobody knew what it felt like to be Neville. Nobody knew what it was like to wake up in the morning and hate who you are. To go through life day after day wishing that things would get better when deep down you know that they won't. To be ridiculed for everything you do. To be shunned and ignored when the teasing subsides.

"All the more reason!"

Neville remembered those days when he was younger – when he kept hoping and dreaming of having something better, and being something more.

"No, but you don't understand. He wouldn't."

And now he was being offered that. He could gain all that he had wanted, and all that he still yearned for.

"Why not then, if you're so sure!"

"Yeah, what makes you say that?"

But at what price?

"He wouldn't turn to the man that ruined his life."

Would he really be able to turn on everything he knew, and help that man? Would he be able to bring himself to fighting his housemates and classmates?

"Is it about his parents?"

"That's it isn't it?"

Neville closed his eyes. A distant memory – one of his only ones – of his parents flashed before his eyes. He didn't know when it was, all he saw was his parents smiling faces, alive and well.

"Yes. You saw them; you saw what HE did to them."

And now, Neville had no parents. His parents were only shells – worse than dead. It pained him to see them, but he wanted to. He wanted to always be with them, even though they didn't even know that they had a son.

"That could be an incentive though – he might think that there's nothing else to stand up to anymore."

Neville took a deep breath, holding back tears – not that he had any tears left to cry.

"He wouldn't let his parents' sacrifice be in vain."

Suddenly Neville froze. He hadn't thought about the fact that his parents had sacrificed so much for the Light. Would he be able to turn his back on what they'd suffered for; on what they'd done so that Light would prevail?

"You have to understand though..."

"But not only that – there are a lot of similarities between him and Wormtail."

The note flashed into his mind. The note that promised him power and glory. The note that said that all he had to do was go – everything else would be explained. The note that hadn't been signed with a name, but rather with an image of a skull with a snake.

"It's different though. You just don't get it."

Neville closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He'd heard enough. There were two people in that room that didn't trust him. And one person that did. And that one person was more important than the other two.

"Oh, Harry. Just, please -"

"It happened before and people were sure of it then too."

Quietly returning back to his room, Neville went under his covers, lying awake for the rest of the night. He heard Harry and Ron come in not too long after and go to sleep. He heard his roommates' light breathing turn into snores. He heard his deep breathing. He heard the taunts and jeers that he would have to endure tomorrow from a certain group of Slytherins.

"History doesn't always repeat itself."

And if anyone noticed the additional cruelty the next day that Neville had to suffer, they didn't say anything.