Summary : The last letter of Neville Longbottom to his parents. This OS is a translation of my own fic "Ce soir, je vais mourir", already published on the French fandom. A great thanks to my beta Avalon's Moon for having read the fic and corrected my mistakes ! :D
Disclaimer : Rowling owns and gets all the money ^^
Mum, Dad,
I'm gonna die tonight. I'm gonna die to be worthy of what you've accomplished. I'm gonna die to avenge you and to save him, Harry Potter; to give him a chance to kill the one who sent you to the depths of this squalid room in St Mungo's Hospital.
I'm gonna die to wipe Lord Voldemort off the face of the earth. Forever.
And maybe also to show the world that I, Neville Longbottom, am able to do something. Since my very first day, and especially since I first went to Hogwarts, I've been a burden for everyone around me. I'm neither handsome, nor smart, nor skillful, nor courageous. Neville Longbottom, the one who suffers from chronic amnesia, the one who can't cast a spell actually worthy of the name, the one who fears the Potions Master, the one who let Sirius Black come into the castle... The one they immediately think of when a disaster has come to pass. I was asked one day how could it be possible for me, nearly a Squib, to be the son of two famous Aurors. Even my grandmother was ashamed of me. She swore by you, dad. Always. I had to be worthy of you and mum, worthy of what you had endured for me to live. I had to sacrifice myself to the study of subjects that didn't interest me in order to follow your way. Only because grandma had decided it. Free-will has never been a right for me. I was useless. I had to conform to her decisions because I wasn't able to make them on my own. At least, that was what she believed.
It was only during the Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons given by Harry that I realized I really could do something. It wasn't much, but I learned far more with him than with any other teacher. Maybe it was because I was encouraged instead of being criticized. Maybe because he trusted me. And because he trusted me, I managed to master defense spells in only a few months, whereas before, I had no hope with them. And I felt more proud of myself than any one ever had before. Neville Longbottom, the millstone around everyone's neck, no longer existed. I was able to do something.
And I was determined not to stay inactive. At the end of fifth year, I fought against Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. Oh, how I wished you could have been there Dad, how I wished you could have seen me ! Because at that time, I was only driven by the will to fight to protect the ones I loved and by the will to kill, to take my revenge. That night, I wanted to kill Bellatrix Lestrange. I really wanted to, but she ran away before I could. And anyway, I had no wand left (I had broken yours, much to my shame...). I also had to protect one of my friends who had been injured, just like me.
After that night, I expected grandma to blame me for your broken wand. But instead she embraced me and told me how proud she was before going to buy me a new wand. I would never, ever have thought I would hear those words from her mouth and they became more precious to me than anything else. I was finally worthy of your sacrifice. And I carried on my way. I lead the rebellion in Hogwarts when Severus Snape became headmaster and hired two Death Eaters as supervisors. I wanted to perpetuate « Dumbledore 's Army » as Dumbledore was dead and Harry was missing. I wanted to represent a light of hope for all those who were suffering from the Death Eaters' domination. Of course, it wasn't without consequences for me. But I didn't matter, because I was finally able to be someone other than who I was before.
But that's not enough anymore for me. You fought to defeat Lord Voldemort, but Lord Voldemort is still alive. He has attacked Hogwarts tonight and I took these few minutes to write this letter while the battle is raging. I wanted to write to you before joining the fight.
Mum, Dad, even if you will probably never understand it, I want you to know that your son, Neville Longbottom, is no longer a burden on anyone. He never will be again.
Farewell, then. I'll die in peace tonight.
Because I love you...
Your son,
Neville