Neville's POV:
He felt silly, but he needed someone to talk to. With his quill in hand and parchment on his desk, he wrote to the mysterious gift-giver.
"Hi, it's Neville Longbottom. I know you must not want to talk to me at all, but I needed someone to speak to and I thought you'd be a good person for that. I've been feeling down lately, mostly about my father. I was told the other day that he is now dead. I never even got to hear his voice or get a hug from him or hear 'I love you, Neville!' But now it's too late. I should've known he'd never get better. My mother is still alive, but she isn't exactly in good shape either. You can say anything to her, but she won't respond like she should. I've never heard an 'I love you, Neville!' From her either. I have a grandmother, but she is kind of reserved. Not that she doesn't love me. If she didn't, I'd probably not even live there anymore and I wouldn't see my parents at the hospital. I also got broken up with today. It's weird though, I'm not really sad about the break up but rather sad that maybe I was too boring? Maybe I was too weird or ugly? Maybe I shouldn't be talking to you about this, but my grandmother would simply say, 'Sorry about that Neville. Hope it gets better!' Then go about her day. Then again, she is also grieving with me I'm sure. Sorry if this is too depressing. You don't have to reply I promise. I just needed to vent. That's all. Goodbye."
He folded up the letter and gave it to his owl. He opened the window and the owl flew away. He didn't expect his owl to come back with a letter, but luckily enough, he came back nearly thirty minutes later with a letter in beak.
He opened it up and smiled.
"Hello, Neville. Never think I don't want to talk to you, I simply keep my distance to be respectful to you. However, I will always be here if you need me. I really am sorry for your loss. That must feel terrible. I can't imagine what it must be like, but I know what it's like to not have a normal family that's for sure. As for your break up, I'm really sorry that happened. I don't think it would be because you're boring because I think you're the most interesting person in the world! It can't be because you're ugly because well... you're not at all! Just look at you! I'm shocked anyone would think you are anything but attractive. And you aren't weird, not at all. People just don't know you enough and they often make assumptions without evidence. If she thinks any of these things about you, which I'm sure she doesn't, then she was a bad match anyways. You deserve love, don't ever think otherwise. You deserve every good thing in the world to happen to you because you're a good person with a good heart. I'm sorry such terrible things happen to you, they shouldn't. The universe really is attacking the wrong person, that's for sure. By the way, this isn't too depressing at all. In fact, you can tell me anything and everything, no matter how sad or terrible it is. If you need a safe space, I'm right here. I'll never judge you and I'll never turn you away. I promise you. If I was as brave as you, perhaps I would meet you face to face and make an unbreakable vow to you saying that I'd never judge you and always be a place of comfort for you. But since that would terrify me and ruin everything, you must trust me instead. Just know that not everything is your fault and everything gets better with time. I know that's hard to believe, especially for me, but for someone like you it's inevitable to get better with time. You'll find a person who truly loves you and you'll find peace. It may take a while, but it'll come. Thank you for confiding in me and I really hope you find happiness."
Neville smiles wide and writes once again.
"Thank you, mystery man. I feel much better. I'm glad you talked to me because I was honestly worried you wouldn't. I'm just really scared that my mother will die soon as well, but I hope she doesn't. I'm also pretty scared for the future. I often forget it, but then I remember that he-who-must-not-be-named is back and maybe we will all die. Again, sorry to make everything so grim. I just wish things were normal. Also, if you don't mind, I want to know about your family. If it makes you uncomfortable, then you don't have to say anything. Again, thank you so much. P.S. I'm not brave at all, but thanks anyways."
He sends the letter and another comes back.
"Thank you, Sir Longbottom! And yes, you are brave. I can tell. Don't argue about it either because I'm right. Also I'm happy to be of help to you any day. Anyways, I agree, the world is becoming scarier every day. I often worry about my friend as well with this whole you-know-who thing. I can't exactly say why, but I often worry about his safety, especially at his home. That worries me the most. But I understand every fear you have. It's ok to feel that way, it is all pretty scary. I really hope your mother gets better soon and that she stays alive long enough for you to spend lots of quality time with her. For my family, I will tell you about it but I will warn you that it's kinda depressing as well. Well, my father is somewhere, I don't know where. And my mother has this boyfriend that is incredibly rude and stupid and well... he really hates me. He blames me for everything and my mother believes him. They also stay out for long periods of time, go to fancy restrauants, and I'm left at home all alone with very little food. If there is any food, it's very old and moldy. Eventually I had to start getting my own food... but I have no money. So, I started taking galleons that my mum's boyfriend would leave laying around and he wouldn't notice since he's incredibly rich. Well the other day I was really feeling bad so I went out to the Three Broomsticks and bought lots of firewhiskey to you know, numb myself. My music was too loud so I didn't hear her come in. She saw me drunk and maybe a few empty bottles and I got kicked out. Sorry if this sounds like me asking for pity. I promise that's not it at all. But it does feel great to tell someone other than my friend. Maybe you'll think I'm weird now, or terrible for stealing money. If so, I understand. But thanks for asking."
Neville sits in silence. How could someone go through this? How could a parent do that to their child? He scribbles angrily.
"That's terrible, all of it! I am so sorry you go through that. Your mother shouldn't be like that! You seem like such a kind person. You don't deserve this, you can't possibly deserve it! I know you're scared for me to know who you are, but maybe we can give you shelter at my house? My grandmother makes good food! And you'll never be ignored that's for sure. What do you say?"
He sends off the letter and shakes his leg nervously while waiting for another response. Then, the letter dropped into his lap.
"I appreciate your kindness, but I'm afraid you wouldn't want me in your house. But I really do appreciate it. I can handle it on my own though, so don't worry about me. If you need anything else to vent about, then do so, but I'll have to go if this is it. If so, goodbye and thank you for listening. You're really a sweet guy, Neville."
He sighs sadly and closes up the letter. He wishes he could help this person, but without knowing who they were made that impossible. So instead, he rushes out of the dorm and towards the Ravenclaw common room.
He is met with a Ravenclaw, just about to step into the common room.
"Wait!" He shouts.
"Woah! Why are you in such a hurry?" They ask him.
"Is Luna Lovegood in there?" He asks, breathing heavily.
"Yes. I'm assuming the matter is urgent?" says the boy.
"Yes." He grunts out.
"Alright. Step inside before the door closes." He says, urging him inside the room. His eyes scan the room and catch sight of Luna's light blonde hair.
He rushes towards her and sits in front of her.
"Oh, what are you doing here, Neville?" She asks.
"I need to know who that person is. It's a matter of life or death." Neville says.
"Well... Listen, I don't want to out anyone and you might be upset with the answer."
"But this person is in danger. Please, Luna." He pleads.
"If it makes you feel better, I will be the one to help this person. But, I can't tell you who it is. That would be betrayal. I'm sorry."
"Just please, get him help. That's all I want." Neville says with pleading eyes.
"I will. I'm worried he won't tell me what the issue is, so please enlighten me."
"Well, I won't say everything but he is homeless and doesn't have any food. I'm worried he'll die." Neville says with urgency, "Just please find him as quickly as possible."
"I'll go right now. I'll make sure he's safe, ok?" Luna promises, closing her book and standing up to leave. Neville followers her but they seperate soon after. He notices her making her way to either the basement or the dungeons.
But that wouldn't make sense... He said he wasn't a Hufflepuff. She would be in the Ravenclaw Tower if it was a Ravenclaw. It can't be a Slytherin! That isn't possible!
If it was a Slytherin, they must be some outcast and must have a Z in their name. The only one he could think of was impossible. There's no way that Blaise Zabini could be the person who gave the gift. Unless the guy lied about his house. Maybe he is a Hufflepuff?
But then he kept thinking of the possibility of Blaise Zabini being the mysterious gift-giver. It oddly made him happy, except that's not the case and Blaise Zabini is evil, just like every Slytherin.
He stands there for a while, then an intrusive thought enters his brain. He can see Blaise and him together, holding hands, him saying he was the person who gave the gift, and reaching in to kiss him. And kiss him for a long time.
Neville shakes his head, but the thought remains. He turns to the Fat Lady, only to notice her giving him a weird look.
"Are you just going to stand here?" She asks him in a sassy tone.
"I can't remember the password!" He complains softly, pulling at his hair. The more he thought about Blaise, the more his chest tightened.
"Are you alright... dear?" The Fat Lady says, speaking almost fearfully.
His head was spinning. He almost relaxed and let his mind take him away, but the logic in his brain kept screaming at him that this was wrong. He began to wheeze. Oh where did he put that bracelet?!
The more he tried to put the thought away, the farther the thought went. He felt disgusted with himself. How perverted was he?!
"Let me in!" He pleaded with the Fat Lady, tearing streaming down his face.
The Fat Lady looked at him in fear. Suddenly the entrance opened and he rushed in.
He ignored the voices around the room saying: "Neville?!" "My goodness, are you ok?" "Bloody hell, what's wrong with you?" and much more.
He instead runs to his dorm and closes the door tight. Luckily, no one was up there with him. He closed his curtains, casts muffliato, and puts the covers over his head.
He then lets it all out. He sobs so hard he could barely breathe and his head was burning.
Why was he never normal? Why was he fantasizing about Blaise? Why did it get worse? Many questions fell through his head as pulled at his hair. He kept telling himself it would all go away tomorrow. Boy, was he wrong.