Disclaimer: None of the Harry Potter universe belongs to me
This is just a really short piece on Neville. I believe our interest is piqued in ootp and he will come to play a major part. Just my musings on his thoughts during those four years.
No one had ever really expected much from me after it all happened. It's interesting how something I can't even remember has controlled my life so thoroughly. I have no doubt I would have come to despise it had I not met someone in a similar situation.
My childhood was uneventful. Depending upon the mood of my family, I could either be a martyr or an irritation.
It's a wonder I was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd never seen them, all so happy. Every few minutes the female relatives would burst into tears while the males would slap me heartily on the back and swipe their hand across their face to mask the tears. The naive side of me said that maybe there was hope after all; the cynical one said they were merely happy to be rid of me. I never could, and still can't, decide which one to listen to.
I faintly remember visiting my parents the day before school started. A part of me stupidly expected them to break their silence and congratulate me or whisper words of encouragement. They remained their same detached selves and I, once again, left with a heavy heart.
I have never known a more frightening experience than that of my first year sorting. I am grateful to whoever bewitched the hat into allowing me to be placed in Gryffindor.
It was there that I met the boys who symbolized everything I wished to be; they were all bright, social, capable of living full lives. It would be years later that I looked upon one of them as being the superior version of myself.
I quickly learned what to expect from Hogwarts. I would attempt, fail, be laughed at, and, eventually, escorted to the hospital wing. An ever repetitive, vicious cycle.
First year ended with a daring rescue of some kind performed by Harry. I wasn't jealous, merely envious of his ability to overcome.
The proceeding summer was as dull as my former life. No one from school wrote me, not that I expected them to. I didn't really fit into the group there.
Second year started and looked to be a continuation of it's predecessor. Despite Harry and Ron's...showy entrance, nothing seemed out of place. Then the attacks started. I didn't really know what to think then. Everything was turned upside down. I was now suppose t be suspicious of everyone, a feat I could never accomplish. And just like the former year, Harry rose to the challenge to defeat him once again. Surprise surprise.
Third year came and went almost the same as the other two with its own challenges. Nothing truly important happened to me during that phase of my adolescence.
Fourth year became a year of growth for me. Small steps were taken to enforce my worth as a human being. With his resurrection, I wasn't quite sure how to act. Did I return to my shell or attempt to go and fight like they did?
Fifth year was probably the most important. I was finally accepted by those around me. I conquered so many fears I had carried since I was a child. I also saw the evolution of those around me. Ron and Hermione seemed to take on the role of the simple minded student. While many people saw Harry gaining strength from them, I saw him distancing himself. No longer could they contend with the hideous internal struggle happening inside him. He had grown and left them in their world of adolescent troubles. Despite their best efforts, they could not experience or empathize with his plight, causing them to sound condescending and trivial. I should know. Hadn't I been through my own troubles? At the end of the year I accomplished something that neevr seemed possible. Confronted those that put me in my position and, despite a few injuries, and come out a stronger person. I often envisioned the moment I would face them. Tall and menacing, they would cower in fear from me. Shrink back until I delivered a fatal blow to them all. Finally avenging those that had died for me.
From then on each day was a new one. I had pushed the boundaries set for me and, inevitably, shattered them. Hiding in a box of ignorance was no longer an option. I feel as if I am making them proud. That one day I will live up to the legacy set by them. That one day, I will make a name for myself. One other than the title of son, other than coward, other than simpleton, other than idiot. I will be Neville. Not Neville, son of Frank and Alice. Just Neville. Admired for his OWN deeds.
Until then I patiently wait for my day. For now I will help all I can and do my best. No one, not even myself, can ask for more.
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~Daphnia