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Thestrals by 800 words of heaven
Chapter 2 : Neville
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 19


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You are Neville Longbottom.

And you can see thestrals.

You were six when you watched your grandfather die.

You held his hand as he breathed his last breaths. He wheezed for you to be brave, to be strong.

Those were his last words. Be brave, be strong, Neville.

You feel the guilt settle into the pit of your stomach.

It doesn’t leave for many years.

You were eleven when you stood up to those who were bullying you.

Be brave, be strong.

The words rattle around your head as you hop to the Common Room, mocking you. You see the red and gold of Gryffindor, and the guilt weighs heavily. You fall over in exhaustion; from jumping across half the castle, or carrying your cowardice for five years, you don’t know.

You were twelve when you confronted your friends in the darkness. They didn’t really think much of you, you knew, but you had to try and stop them. You had to try and save Gryffindor from falling even more from grace. You had to try and save them from the trouble they’d get themselves into.

It didn’t work. They didn’t listen, and once again, you were defeated.

Be brave, be strong.

The words roll through your mind as Professor Dumbledore awards you the points for an act of bravery that you didn’t commit, winning Gryffindor the House Cup.

Your cowardice stops you from admitting your shame.

You were fifteen when you joined Dumbledore’s army.

You knew you were terrible, but you were willing to try.

You were willing to pour your blood, sweat, and tears into helping your school, your friends, your family.

Be brave, be strong.

You were not brave, you were not strong, but you’d move heaven and earth to fight for what you believed.

You were sixteen when you fought at the Ministry. Your blood pounded in your ears, your nose ached, and your wand felt clumsy between your fingers.

You stood in silence as you watched someone die for the second time, and only one thought flashed through your mind.

Be brave, be strong.

You didn’t think you could, but for the sake of your friends, you’d try.

You were seventeen when the responsibility of the rebellion at Hogwarts fell to you.

You put on a brave face, and spoke in a strong voice, but you quivered inside. They’d find out. They’d all find out that you were a fraud. You only pretended, but you hoped that when the truth came out they’d understand that you did it for them. You did it to help your school, help your friends, help your family.

You were eighteen when you hobble to confront Voldemort.

You were beaten, you were broken, but you were not dead. No, you’d only die when you gave up.

You spoke in defiance, and you were swept aside, forgotten.

But you picked up the sword, and you cut off the snake’s head.

You are Neville Longbottom.

And you are brave, you are strong.


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