No one knows me.

No one knows me.

Has anyone ever asked me about my parents?

Has anyone ever cared?

Has anyone asked what I remember?

I remember things.

I'm not stupid, you know.

Though some may think that.

Sometimes I cry at night.

I am alone.

I have friends, but are they really friends?

Do they ask me what's wrong?

Do they try to help?

No.

I can rely on no one.

I have to fend for myself.

Just like an auror.

I've always wanted to be an auror.

I have to be.

What else could I be?

With who I am.

With what others think of me.

Expect of me.

But do they really know me?

Does anyone really know me?

No. They think they do.

Everyone analyzes me.

They think they know everything there is to know.

They're wrong.

They don't know a side of me that I have shown to no one.

I am very different.

No one knows what I have to go through.

They've never asked.

No one can relate to my life.

Except one.

The other poor Gryffindor in my year who has no one who loves him.

Almost.

He can almost relate to what I'm going through.

Almost.

Sometimes I feel sorry for him.

Sometimes I pity him.

Even though I know he would not like pity.

I hate pity too.

That's two things in common.

Our parents are dead, or worse than dead.

And we hate pity.

Life is funny, ain't it?

Sometimes, you've got everything, and yet you've got nothing.

And sometimes, you've got nothing, and yet you feel like you've got everything.

And sometimes, you've just got nothing at all.

Confusing?

Good.

It's supposed to be.

Life is confusing.

Life isn't fair.

That's life.

Get used to it.

I have.

So has he.

We both are similar in some ways, different in others.

But there is one main difference…

I am Neville Longbottom.

~~~~~~~~~~**********~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did the ending surprise you? It was supposed to. I hope you liked it. Tell me if you thought it was Neville or Harry writing this until the last sentence. Review!