A/N: Read my last Rosemary post first. This is the writing on the scroll. Neville, Harry, Hermoine, Ron, and all of those people and things are J.K. Rowling. Story itself, Rosemary, and Room of Stories are mine.
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Neville's Memoir
(Writing on scroll.)
Hello. My name is Neville Longbottom. I am almost eighteen years old, and this a required project. This writing, I mean. The Hogwarts staff decided on anew project for all seventh-years a while ago. We have to write something about our lives, and put it somewhere. Most of us just wrote an essay and gave it to a teacher. A few kept them for no one to see. Some, who knew about muggle things, "posted" it on the "internet." They called them "fan fics." I have no idea what they mean by all that. Harry Potter go this first year in a muggle book, and is planning on doing his other years soon. I think I'm the only one who put something here, in the Room of Stories.
The Room of Stories is full of secrets, normally in lost memoirs. Some were purposly placed here, like mine. I wonder how many people have been in here at all. I found it on accident, tripping one time when I was lost in my fourth year. My wand rubbed it. My ankle almost got sprained, so I sat in the chair to check I tout. You know how that must have turned out. Suddenly I was on a throne, with a heavy book in my lap. It told me straight off to put the wall back. You should do that now. Just, instead of pushing, pull it. Imagine you can, and it will. Like the barrier at King's Cross. Believe.
Anyway, I came back and new book came to my lap. I can't tell you what it is. What books you should read will come to you. Don't worry about time. The Room of Storeis is a time capsule, and it stays still as long as you are reading.
I must get back to my life. It was a miracle I got put in Gryffindor, if you ask me. My family tried forever to make sure I was magic. In only told my friends about a great-uncle, but he was just the most persistent. The others gave up when I was about six.
My parents divorced about a year after I was born, and neither wanted me. So my dad's mom was stuck with me. There's my life until Hogwarts. Yippee.
As I said, the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor. I was scared of Slytherins, too dumb for a Ravenclaw, and not loyal for a Hufflepuff, I guess. But nobody would ever say I was brave. Except Dumbledore. Those who know Harry's story know about that. Yeah, he was in my class. Made me look even worse. You see, I told Harry, Ron, and Hermoine they shouldn't go out at night our first year. Hermoine put a full Body-Bind on me. I wasn't discovered until the next morning. Brave my foot. The Weasley twins almost tripped over me while getting up extra early for some trick. Oh yeah, they laughed. Long and hard. My one moment of bravery and fame.
It hurts to be me sometimes. I couldn't have lived without the trio though. Would have failed Hogwarts, beat up by Malfoy. Or rather his goons. I actually was still and still am smarter then Crabbed and Goyle. At least I tell myself that. I've somehow managed to pass all my classes so far. Mainly from other's help. I lost count how many cauldrons I've blown up in Potions, and how many times Snape's temper blew up because of me. Too many. I didn't like potions, wouldn't even if I had a nicer teacher. It seems too dangerous, and the animal parts always bugged me too. Snape hated me. As I said, it hurts to be me.
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~Springrain