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"We were… detained. The moment we stepped foot in Hogwarts, really." At Neville's confused face, Harry sighed and beckoned him over as he reached carefully for the package Severus had left for him on the desk. Harry had been adamant to tell everything to Neville on his own but Severus, understanding how taxing an experience that would be for both parties, he decided to do the one thing he had been avoiding for three years; go through the stuff Nicholas had left them in his will. It hadn't been much in that vault other than his book collection and a few boxes. But the potions master remembered Nicholas speaking of a pensive he owned, once upon a summer five years back. Pensives were rare and precious artefacts, prized by every single witch or wizard in existence and having one could prove a tremendous aid; as it was, Severus avoided it like the plague.
If Nicholas had passed his pensive down to him and Harry, he had probably done so while leaving the memories he had placed there intact. Severus wasn't certain he would ever be ready to see them and he knew himself well enough to understand he would hardly resist should the pensive be found. But there came a time when Harry needed it so, personal emotional pain be damned, he would search for it. Nicholas, in his wisdom, had indeed placed his prized pensive in one of those crates. The same pensive that now lay, carefully wrapped on the desk in front of Harry. The boy had been loath to use it but… How does one explain meeting Merlin and sounding sane at the same time?
"You know, I was fully prepared to talk about everything for hours and hours," Harry stated, unpacking the pensive and placing it carefully on the desk under Neville's perpetually confused stare "but there are some things you have to see to believe. Or rather, that are too difficult to explain." And he pulled out his wand, pointing it at his head, placing memory after memory in the pensive, the liquefied moments of his life swirling and turning creating a maelstrom of images on the troubled surface. "I didn't want to use that specific pensive; it belonged to someone I cared about and lost. He…" Harry sighed in defeat. "Oh you'll see." And he pointed at the pensive. "Do you know how to use a pensive?"
"In theory." Neville answered softly.
"It's quite easy; and I'll be right there with you." Neville nodded, realising he had done so much of that during the past hour or so. But then again, what else was there? So, both friends took a deep breath and delved into seven years worth of memories. Together, the two brothers walked through Harry's memories of Merlin, the Flamels' -and, oh, how those hurt still!- snippets of the places in the world Severus and Harry had found themselves in, how they had both changed and hid it, Harry's years at Hogwarts, the creation of the Firebolt even and finally of the second prophecy. And Harry talked and explained as he pointed things out at a mostly silent Neville, as he laid his life bare in front of him. It was well past noon when they stepped into the real world again.
"I need to sit down." Was Neville's first and understandable reaction. The world was spinning as Harry led him back to the armchair he had vacated some hours past, his legs almost giving out on him.
"And now you know." The green eyed boy stated softly, waiting for his friend's reaction, whatever that would be. He slowly lifted the concealment charms first placed so many years ago and stared at the floor, his head throbbing and his heart clenching and unclenching painfully. This was it. Neville tried to process what he had just witnessed. Harry was the one that had vanquished the Dark Lord. He was the one that had stopped him from returning time and time again, saving his brother and putting himself in mortal danger in the process. He was the boy -man?- that had trained and trained, preparing for a battle that was now approaching while hiding himself in the shadows, never claiming the fame the world had bestowed on his brother. The same person that fought still with his guilt over the death of two people he had considered grandparents. The one that had made a philosopher's stone at the age of twelve, who had met Merlin and shared common characteristics with him, who had designed the Firebolt, who still hated himself for taking the life of a man who would have killed him and his brother without a second thought. He was the child his parents had pushed away in favour of his brother, pushing and pushing until he felt himself almost detached from his once family. And most of all, Harry was his friend; his friend that had managed to tear away all the walls he had built and let him see just what lay hidden beneath. It wasn't that hard to reach a conclusion after that.
"How can I help?" Harry's head snapped upwards, startled and confused eyes seeking his own. That wasn't what he had expected, Neville realised; Harry had just stood there, waiting to be judged and found wanting, just as he had been by the grand majority of the people he had known all his life. And even if Neville knew Harry was much stronger than he looked -even without the concealment charms- he felt that he was fully prepared to hex and maim whomever tried to hurt him. and though he was older than him only by a few hours, Neville knew that this was what an older brother felt like towards their younger sibling. Because despite all his strength, Harry had been hurt through the years; by the darkest of wizards and by the people that should have been there for him, over and over and in so many ways, Neville just wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. He swore that pain and misery would befall anyone that tried to hurt his little brother in the future; even if he had to train every hour of every day, he would stand by Harry's side. That's what families are for after all.
"What?" Harry asked, scarcely believing what he had heard. "Help?"
"Yes." Neville nodded, feeling more certain about this than he had felt about anything else in his life. "Help. Merlin knows -and he does, doesn't he?- that you have had little help over the years! Professor Snape, brilliant as he is, shouldn't have to do everything on his own either!" Harry was looking at him with an almost scared look in his eyes. "Hey; that's what families are for, right?" And Harry broke. One palm covering his eyes, a chocked sob left his lips, followed by another and then another as the dam broke. Neville, deep down having expected such an outcome, let him compose himself in peace and, once the tears seemed to have lessened, pulled Harry awkwardly closer and patted him on his back, not quite knowing what else to do; being an older sibling was new to him after all.
"I… Nev, I… I don't even know what to say!" Harry exclaimed, squirming away and blushing furiously at how he had broken down like that.
"You can start with; "Sure, Nev! Of course you can help!" and we'll see where we go from there, okay little bro?"
"Yeah, I guess!" Harry's smile was face splitting at Neville's last proclamation; brother. He finally had a brother… Hey, wait a minute!
"Little bro? Little?" The green eyed wizard exclaimed, both teens staring at each other for a few seconds before Neville answered with a blasé;
"Well, I am older than you after all."
"By seven hours."
"I'm a bit taller still."
"It's not my fault you were hit with a stretching spell over the holidays!" They stared at each other once more, the silence stretching for only a few short moments before they started laughing hysterically at the absurdity of the situation. It was like that Severus found them entering the room with a loud banging sound of the doors.
"I'm sorry, I know I said I'd wait but it's been four hours and…" He looked at the two laughing teens on the floor, whose laughing fit only seemed to intensify at his appearance. The potions master, Neville thought, looked ridiculously young without the spells he had used to alter his appearance and that confused expression on his face. "What did I miss?" Said potions master asked resigned after their laughter had died down a little. And they told him.
HI GUYS IF YOU WANT READ 300 + CHAPTERS THEN VISIT
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