Chapter 14

The-Boy-Who-Was-Depressed

"Longbottom, stay behind."

The melancholy boy nodded as he gathered up his things. He didn't startle as he usually did when I called on him, at the moment I couldn't decided if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The boy hadn't reacted too much of anything lately. Frank was worried, as any father would be. Albus had told Frank that he simply needed time to come to terms with what happened and while that was true in part I knew, and Lily agreed, this wasn't something the teen was going to be able to work though without guidance.

Once the rest of the class had left I summoned the boy to my office. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of my desk and I sat at the one beside him.

"Neville."

Calling the child by his first name clearly took him by surprise as he actually looked up from his lap.

"Yes, sir." He spoke softly his dark eyes locked with my own.

"You really need to stop acting like a zombie, it isn't going to help anyone."

The boy just sighed, shrugged and once again dropped his gaze.

I've never been know for my patience and I really should have just had Lily do this. I'm not good with this sort of thing. Helping depressed children figure out their emotions is not something I am good at. He needs a bloody counselor. Unfortunately Hogwarts doesn't have one though they bloody well should. Longbottoms not the only one who could use someone to talk to right now.

"Look… this is war Longbottom. That's not going to change and you are in the midst of it. The Dark Lord wants you dead and he will get what he wants if you keep moping around like a five year old whose puppy died!"

What the boy did next was completely unexpected. His droopy face suddenly contorted into a mas of anger and frustration. His eyes narrowed as he jumped from his seat. His fists clenched as he banged them hard on my desk.

"Then let him. Let him kill me then maybe he'll leave my friends and family alone. I am tired of this. I'm not made for this. I-I'm not my dad ok! I'm not strong or brave or even all that smart. I don't care about that stupid prophecy I am not the Chosen One. You know who should be though, James. James is just like his dad, brilliant, and fearless and now….now he can't even write his name on a piece of parchment because of me. Because I was stupid enough to fall for Voldemorts trick. It's all my fault. All I do is make things worse. My mum should have let him kill me, everyone would be better off."

That was it, I was done with the whining. The self-pity. It was time for this boy to man up.

Standing up, I took several steps closer so I was practically hovering over him. Glaring down at him I narrowed my eyes in disgust. "You truly are pathetic Longbottom. Your mother gave her life for you and this is how you repay her, by making her sacrifice worthless! For all I know that prophecy could be worth less then a pile of Hippogryph dung but as long as the Dark Lord believes otherwise we are all in danger. Do you honestly think it would stop if you were dead? Do you think he would stop killing, stop tearing families and lives apart to satisfy his own agenda just because you were out of the picture? No. It would only add fuel to his fire.

Your death would not only be a waste of your mothers sacrifice but it would negate everything we stand for. You are more then just The Chosen One, Neville, you are a symbol. A symbol that there is hope. If that hope is gone, then all that's left is defeat. Our side is growing weaker by the day and without hope we have nothing worth fighting for.

If you die, Longbottom, we all die."

It took a moment but then it happened. He broke down. His body fell back into the chair, he dropped his head into his hands and began to sob.

"I'm so scare, professor. I want to make my dad proud, I want to stop him but I don't know how. I just don't know how."

Of course he didn't, no one had shown him. They tutor him in Defence Against the Dark Arts and they try to force him to learn mind magic, an art he's just not cut out to preform. They keep secrets from him and expect him to figure out how to deal with things on his own. The sink or swim method doesn't work on everyone, and certainly not on Longbottom. He needs guidance, encouragement and training and he needs it now.

"I know you don't, but you will, Neville, you will."

Even if I'm the one who has to show him.

XXX

A/N: I know very short chapter but I felt this scene needed a chapter to itself.