A/N: I just want to say hello to all my lovely readers and reviewers, and thank you for the fantastic response I have had to this fic.

Enjoy! Love from me x

Dear Neville

So as you read this, which should be opened on your first night in your dormitory, I'm trying to imagine what you will be like. Are you sat on your bed? Are you reading this in the common room? I wish I was ...alive to know. I know I'm still alive, but not being able to know you...it feels as though I may as well be dead. I just can't imagine my life without you.

Anyway, enough depressing talk! Nev, I know you might be feeling down at the moment. I know that the sorting hat took a long time to decide which house you should be in. I also know that you are in Gryffindor. That's the same house that your father and I were in.

I'm guessing, but I think you might be feeling lonely at the moment. Like you shouldn't really be in this house, because it took so long to decide. I'm just trying to think how I would feel in your situation. If I'm wrong, then ignore me and I'm glad you're happy :) But from what I'm told, at this time you are very quiet.

I just want to say, Neville, that you do belong. Your house becomes your family. And don't forget that I do know something of what your future life will be like. So believe me when I say that you DO belong here.

At the moment, in my time, you are four weeks old. And already, your smile makes my heart are such a good person Neville, just believe in yourself.

And don't worry that you ran off wearing the sorting hat...to make people laugh, even unintentionally, is a talent, a gift greater even than that of magic. And if you are confident in yourself, people will laugh with you, not at you.

I will love you forever and always,

Your mummy, Alice.

Neville lay on the scarlet sheets of his new, four poster bed, staring at the silken canopy. He could hear the hustle and bustle of his new dorm mates around him. The four boys - Weasley, Finnigan, Thomas and, unbelievably, Potter, seemed nice enough. On the train,Potter had told him that his toad would turn up, and thankfully he was right.

Neville was also glad that his friend Hermione was in his house,she would be somebody he knew. She seemed clever too, maybe they could study together, and he could finally prove that he was a good wizard.

Neville hadn't been scared when the ghosts had made their annual appearance to the first years. Someone had screamed, and a girl stood next to Neville had jumped, overall there were a lot of gasps. But Neville had enjoyed it. His Gran had often taken him to visit what she called historical wizarding sighs and towns, and Neville had seen and met many ghosts there. His Gran had hoped that Neville would absorbed some of the 'magical culture', and somehow do some magic, but it hadn't happened. Neville still remembered her – badly masked – disappointment.

Granted, none of the ghosts in those towns had had a head that appeared to be on hinges, like Sir Nicholas, but they were still just ghosts, and Neville knew they couldn't hurt him. Hermione had looked rather scared, and Neville had shyly told her not to be scared, which she seemed grateful for.

Neville hadn't really spoken to anyone else...she had helped him look for his toad, and had introduced herself to him. Speaking to people first just seemed...somehow, scarier than the ghosts.

He thought back to the boat ride up to the school. Even though he had visited many castles over the years, nothing could prepare him for the sight of Hogwarts. It had been wet, and windy, and Hermione had talked non stop in his ear. But even so, it felt like he was uncovering something... fantastic. His parents had been here. They had laughed, and been happy here. Maybe he would be too. He hoped so.

He had just read the letter from his mother. He had no idea how his mother knew so much, but at this time, he was so thankful that she did. He'd been to visit her the day before his first day at school.

His father had simply turned away and looked out of the window when Neville walked in. His mother had seemed to know his grandmother, but not him. Not him. That killed Neville. Sure, Alice wasn't exactly say gossiping with his gran, but there was a shade of recognition in her eyes. There was nothing for him.

Nothing except the letters.

Neville had been so embarrassed when he ran off with the sorting hat. The hat had taken forever to sort him, and Neville had nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice whispering in his ear that he was a difficult lad to place.

Ultimatley, his mother was right. Neville didn't feel brave enough to be in Gryffindor. He knew that was what his house was famous for, outstanding bravery and good heart. Neville had never done anything brave. He hadn't even stood up to his great uncle Algie when he had pushed him off of Blackpool pier to see if he had magic in him. He had at least thought his grandmother would be worried about him, seeing as he'd nearly drowned, but she'd been crying with happiness when Neville finally pulled himself out of the water, aged eight.

Neville hugged his knees close to his chest, and looked at the letter on the bed in front of him. His mother seemed to have such a good idea of the way he would be feeling. She had probably been told, somehow, but Neville liked to imagine that she knew because they were similar people. That somehow, even though he didn't know her, he was like her. That thought comforted him.

She said that she loved him. She said it in every letter. He trailed his fingers lightly lover the ink on the page. She had touched this paper, had been thinking of him. He couldn't bring himself to associate the woman who wrote him these letters, with the woman he visited in was almost like the woman who wrote him letters was a spirit of his imagination.

Neville laid down onto his bed, and imagined that he could feel arms around him, comforting him. He drifted off to sleep, smiling.

He woke up the next day, still smiling. He didn't feel totally a part of Gryffindor. But when he got up, Ronald Weasley grinned at him. Harry Potter asked him how he'd slept. Dean Thomas asked him if Trevor was ok, and Seamus Finnigan explained the rules of the muggle sport, football to him.

Walking down to breakfast, he felt a little better. Gryffindor was not just about bravery, he remembered. It was about loyalty too. He didn't feel brave yet, but these were the first friends he had really had, and already, he felt loyal to them. And more brave when he was with them.

Maybe Hogwarts would be OK. Maybe he did belong.

A/N: So i know it's short, but I hope you like it. Chapters will be longer the further into the book I get, so stick with me Please review!