Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the world of Harry Potter.
A/N: Sorry this took longer to get out. For some reason, it just didn't want to be written like I wanted.
Chapter 6 Neville
The Neville Longbottom standing in front of the wooden door leading into the room that housed Harry Potter was much different than the one from Harry's school days. He had grown, and not just in a physical sense. He was no longer the bumbling school boy who was hopeless when it came to magic. He was a full grown man whom had a control and skill with his magic that was the envy of many. He had worked very hard for this and was considered the top auror to come out of his class. Neville also had a confidence about him that made many around him envious. Again, he was no longer the boy that went to Hogwarts with Harry. He, of course, always attributed all the changes in his life to his wife, Luna.
That confidence that he has become known for had all but disappeared the moment he stood in front of the door. He had spent the last half hour debating with himself whether or not to go in. This was the first time he would be to see the boy-who-lived since his release. He had been avoiding it. Even if Harry didn't know that he was there, Neville was not sure he could face him. Every time someone would try to convince him to visit, he always made some excuse not to. Now, after four months of arguing, Luna had finally convinced him that he needed to do this. She was right to. If he was going to move on with his life, he needed to face his past.
Saying and doing are two different things, though. So here he was, staring blankly ahead at the door in front of him. Never had a door seemed daunting to him; not even when he knew one held a three headed dog behind it, or worse, Potions class. However, if not for himself, then for Harry he had to do this. He owed it to Harry. With that though in mind, Neville wiped his sweaty palms off on his pants, took a deep breath, summoned his Gryffindor courage and opened the door.
Neville nearly jumped out of his skin. There was Harry sitting on the bed staring straight at him. His two dull, lifeless green eyes were looking through him as if he weren't there. Of course, considering his state, Neville might as well not have been there for Harry. He shook his head sadly. He couldn't believe that this…this…ghost was really Harry. It couldn't be Harry. Harry was the boy that Neville looked up to. He was the boy that he tried to imitate during school. The person that when they gave him even a moment of their time, made Neville feel like he was somebody, not the Gryffindor nobody. No, this figure before him wasn't the Harry he remembered. This was the Harry he had betrayed, more than anyone else.
That damn Bellatrix Lestrange. She was a curse upon his whole family. She had ruined yet more lives. Of course, this wasn't known until the Order had made a lucky capture of her. It was thanks to veritaserum that they now knew the truth. When asked if she had anyone under the imperious curse, she had replied yes. When asked who, she gave a list of names, Neville's included. It came as a great surprise to him. Of course, they had removed it, along with the memory altering spell she had put on him. Sometimes he wished they hadn't. The results now gave him nightmares every night, and he would probably have them for the rest of his life.
He now remembered, in perfect clarity, murdering Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Lestrange had caught him Diagon Alley. He had gotten separated from his grandmother in the back to school crowds. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled behind a store. Before he could so much as shout, she had cursed him. He was to kill the two and frame Harry for the crime. He was not to remember anything. It had taken him nearly to the end of the year to be able to take Harry's wand without him noticing. He'd waited until night before going to Ron and Hermione while Harry was in detention. He told them that he had run into Harry who wasn't looking to good and had asked him to get them for him. Worried, they had followed Neville into a corridor he knew would be empty until a teacher decided to patrol after curfew. While their backs were turned, he'd killed Ron. Hermione turned, but before she could shoot off a spell, he killed her too. He then went to Harry, who was now getting out of detention, and told him that they needed him, something was wrong. They sprinted the entire way. When Harry saw the bodies, he just froze. It was like a small part of him died right then. Neville didn't have to do anything. He just put Harry's wand in his hand and left.
Neville had been pardoned for his crimes. As a fifteen year old school boy under the imperious curse, he couldn't be held responsible. Even the Weasley clan forgave. However, he could not forgive himself. If only he had been able to fight it off. If only he had remembered at some point. They told him he couldn't blame himself. They told him not to think in what ifs. How could he not, though? They didn't have memories of killing two people he thought of as friends. They weren't the ones who remembered exactly when Harry Potter broke. He had to live with the knowledge that he was the reason Harry was the way he was now. It was all his fault.
Those thoughts spurred Neville into action. He quickly crossed the room and knelt the before the boy who had taught him how to believe in himself. He looked up into the once vibrant eyes with tears in his own. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said over and over again, seeking an absolution he knew would never come.
Reviews:
Alexiel86: I'm glad you like my story. However, those are questions you will only get answered if you continue to read. Thanks for the review.
Paul 'Crystalonkey': Really? You think its dark? I didn't think it was. Oh well, I'm just glad you like it. Thanks for the review.