Walking silently down the corridor leaving Dumbledore's office, I take a glace through the windows and down below. Noticing Harry, Ron and the Weasley twins outside chucking and dodging the snowballs being thrown at one another, I stop in my tracks, placing a hand over a frosted window. Shivering slightly, I whisper unconsciously to myself, Harry. Oh, Harry. How different his life could have been. My own life, too. But Voldemort chose me, so I must carry the burden, not Harry. I only wonder how much it would change him, if he happened to be me. The one with the wizarding world counting on them. The one with the bad past. That's not Harry Potter, but me, Neville Longbottom.
Oh, if only Harry was chosen. He would feel what I feel. Would we still be friends? But of course. He was always there for me. Who backed me up when Umbridge insisted that I was lying about the return of Voldemort? Who alone understood how hard Occlumency was, least of all with Snape? And remind me again, who was it that kept insisting that I never give up, no matter how hard Occlumency or Potions were? Harry Potter. Not to mention the countless times he defended me against Draco Malfoy; retorted back to Snape; took the blame for every wreckless thing I did; taught me everything I know in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which has kept me alive to face Voldemort time after time again for all these years. And I know, had he been "the Chosen One," I would have done the same for him.
It's a curse and yet a blessing, this burden of mine is. A beautiful disaster, I guess you could call it. Oh, the ego it creates. I can actually think overly highly of myself. It wouldn't be so, had I not been chosen. I wouldn't have the respect of the people, had it been Harry and not me. Without the respect, I would feel useless.
I never knew. Oh Lord, I could have never imagined. When Dumbledore told me tonight how very equal Harry and I were? What was I to think? It would have been so different, for the both of us, and for them. By 'them' I mean the people. Harry's family, my family, our friends and our enemies. Harry and I are equal, yet I was chosen to carry the burden, not him. Why? That, I do not know the answer to. He's always been stronger than I, there is nothing he is lacking that I posess, besides a curse scar on my head. I shall not have any regrets. I was put in this position for a purpose: to save the wizarding world.
Harry is a great friend; he's helped me out of many tight spots. He's saved my life, kept me sane when I wanted to give up. That's a true Gryffindor. He always puts me before himself. I can't even keep track of how many times he's stuck up for me when it comes to Malfoy, Snape or Umbridge.
If it was Harry, what lives would we live? Would he even be alive, I wonder? Of course. I've been over to his place on the summer holidays, and I know for a fact Mr. and Mrs. Potter would have sacrificed their lives for his, as my parents did for me. Oh, how they love him. And Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. What a piece of work. Daring to the point of wrecklessness. You'd think Harry was his own son. Even imagining Harry without the three people he loved most makes me feel sick. He would be nothing without the love of them.
But, he would still have Ron and Hermione. And me. Regardless of who was "the Chosen One," Harry would always have his friends. Would we be as close to him as we are now? Perhaps. Maybe even closer. He would need us, so we would be there for him. Dumbledore would be his mentor, and his duty would be to destroy Voldemort. He would have enough courage to call him by his name, as I do now. The people would respect him, yet sometimes take him to have "cock-and-bull stories," as they occassionally do with me. Harry would still be on the Quidditch team, and I still wouldn't. However, he'd most likely no longer have his parents, and I probably would.
My parents. Oh, how I miss them. I never really got to know them, which is a shame. I'm always told how respected they were among the wizarding community. But I don't want to be told, I want to be shown. Shown with my own two eyes, not just having tales told to me about them. And gran. Good old gran... I don't think she'd treat me the way she does now, had Voldemort chosen Harry. Never misses a chance to boast about me to everyone she meets. "Neville Longbottom is my grandson! He brings such honor to our family, just as Frank and Alice did," she says. But what if I wasn't?
These thoughts run through my head, wild and awake. They'll always be there, from this night on. Curious thoughts, eating at my head, eager to know what could have been. And above all, "Why me?" That I'll never know. Of all the times I've encountered Voldemort, and escaped, never could I have imagined a world without this burden of mine.
Now I wonder. Oh, how I wonder. Could Harry possibly take pity on me? Is he my friend simply because he feels bad for me? I know I would for him had he been chosen? but I wouldn't be his friend solely for that reason. Surely he doesn't? Not Harry. Someone else, perhaps. But not Harry. Harry Potter is the greatest friend I could imagine. Better than Hermione, who helps me with my work, and feels sympathy for me. He's a greater friend to me than Ron, Seamus or Dean, who I just happen to get along with. Even better a friend than Luna, Harry is, who of which just happens to be an outcast, like I. While she is laughed at, and insulted, I carry a burden which none can imagine, and I carry it alone.
Removing my chilled hand from the window, I tremble from my thoughts. Coming back from my subconsciousness, I observe Harry laughing, quickly running to take cover behind Ron, who of which seems to about be bombarded with countless snowballs. Harry shows a laugh full of bliss. He is truly happy, and all I can ever hope for is the possible joy I can feel in the future, when my burden has been lifted.
People take things for granted, I've noticed. Everyone it seems, besides Harry and myself. What is there for me to take for granted? Nothing. But Harry... he has so many people to love and care for him, yet he understands that he has it better than some people out there; me, for one. Why he's unlike so many other people in that sense, I will never understand. But I do know what could have been and what has become, and that makes all the difference.