Something Worth Leaving Behind

Hey Mona Lisa, who was Leonardo?

Was he Andy Warhol?

Were you Marilyn Monroe?

He wasn't anyone special; he was just some kid nobody ever tried to know. Just a clumsy guy you didn't want to be stuck with during class. And he didn't blame them, either. He knew his horrible habit of drawing disaster near him. But he couldn't help it. He was just himself. Nothing more, nothing less. Even if he came from a very magical family, his abilities were weak compared to the rest of them. The only class he ever did well in was DADA, and that was a miracle in itself.

He didn't like to always be the odd man out. Sure, he did have the rest of his house to back him up, but that was because they were all in the same house. End of story. Or so he thought.

Hey Motzart, what kind of name is Amadeus?

It's kind of like Elvis;

You gotta die to be famous.

I may not go down in history.

I just want someone to remember me.

"Umm...excuse me. May I sit here?" A girl with bright blonde hair stood behind him. It was the new exchange student from America.

"If you want to," he replied. "But I'll warn you know that I seem to attract bad luck." She just laughed off his comment. She sat next to him anyway.

"What's your name?"

"Neville Longbottom. And yours?"

"Sally Symington. It's nice to meet you...What are those called?"

"Pumpkin pastries. Want one?"

"Sure." They talked all throughout dinner that night. But no one else seemed to notice. They were too caught up in their own activities to do so.

I'll probably never hold a brush

That paints a masterpiece.

I'll probably never find a pen

That writes a symphony.

But if I will love then I will find

That I have touched another life

And that's something,

Something worth leaving behind.

"Hey, Nev, wait up!" The teenage girl raced over to Neville. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, Sally. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"About how horrible things are."

"What? Neville, what are you talking about?"

Neville spun around and faced Sally. "Sally, you're the only friend I've got. But you've been drifting away. I feel as if we've never known each other." His look of hurt touched her heart.

"Nev, what are you saying? Listen to yourself! I've never heard you like this!!! What's the matter, really? Are you sick? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey or something? Let me feel your forehead..."

"Sally, stop! I'm not sick!"

"You sound sick!"

"Please, Sally; I'm just saying maybe you should go out with someone else right now." He turned away from her, unable to look her in the face.

"Well...if you feel that way, Nev..." She didn't look at him, either. The emotion was too noticeable in her face to let him see it. She left him, both still red in the face, both still with tear streaks across their faces.

"It is done," murmured Neville.

Hey Midas, they said you had the magic touch.

But even all that shiny stuff

Someday's gonna turn to dust.

Neville was simply miserable after that. Sure, he looked like the same bashful Neville, the clumsy old Neville of old. But inside, he was hurting really badly. But nobody was concerned enough to ask. Except for Sally. But he wouldn't say a word to her. Not a word escaped his lips to betray his true feelings. Soon, he was devoid of emotion inside. Even people who usually didn't notice noticed his unusually under-the-weather look on his face.

"Hey, Neville, are you all right?" asked Hermione. Hermione. The only girl other than Sally who had ever had any real concern for him. But everyone knew she was in love with Ron...

"I'm fine, Hermione; I was just thinking, that's all."

"Penny for your thoughts."

"I'll have to go poor, then, without the penny."

The truth was not something he felt like sharing. In truth, he felt miserable. He wished he could go to Sally and tell him how much he loved her, how much he'd do for her, how his whole existence revolved around her. But after what he had said...he felt like he couldn't take back his word. The one thing he could not deny himself was his word, for he always did what he said.

Anyway, he had seen Sally with another boy. With a handsome Ravenclaw; he couldn't remember his name. She seemed to be so happy with him, so cheerful around him. He didn't want to spoil her happiness. If she were sad, he'd be sad, too. He would just have to foget her as best he could...

Hey Jesus, must have been some Sunday morning,

In a blaze of glory;

We're still telling your story.

He tried his hardest to forget her; to forget her face, her beautiful green-blue eyes that spoke whole pages, was impossible, though. He was head-over-heels still, after so many years.

Well, he thought to himself, I'll never have to see her again. It's the last year of school. Then will I be able to forget her At least, that's what he thought would happen....

I may not go down in history.

I just want someone to remember me

It was the last week of school. His last week of being at Hogwarts as a student, maybe forever Yes, forever. His last time at Hogwarts forever. He had decided things were just too painful. Everything he looked at reminded him of her. Every blade of grass, everything seemed to remind him of Sally.

But he decided that that was enough. He couldn't take the torment of it any more. He was, to be frank, tired with life. Tired of who he was, what he was. Tired of living. And what better way to end your tiredness of living than ending life itself? So thought he.

That night, he went up to the Astronomy Tower. What memories came to mind! He remembered the first time they had come up there. She was a little nervous. He, even more so. But they enjoyed it. He could remember the moon that night. It was a full moon. It looked like a beautiful jewel up in the sky...

But there was no moon that night. Nothing but a few stars above in the sky let any illumination to his sight. Everything else was darkness. He was glad for the darkness; there was less chance of anyone seeing him, therefore less chance of anyone trying to stop him. For his mind was made up. This would be his deathbed.

He took the bottle out of his robes. Inside it was the mixture he had concocted while he was in Potions one class. Of course, Snape hadn't known about it. Another thing to be glad of: no more Professor Snape, not even just chance meetings.

He uncorked the bottle. The liquid was a greenish color, reminding him of the bracelet he had given Sally on her sixteenth birthday. It was a jade bead necklace. She had always loved jade jewelry. He, of course, knew that for a while. But that didn't matter anymore. Not since he learned that she and that Ravenclaw were engaged. He still couldn't remember that guy's name...but it didn't matter anymore. It was over with.

With that last thought, he pressed the edge of the bottle to his lips and let the cooling liquid into his mouth. It ran like the calming and refreshing feeling of rain pouring down your face, only inside his throat. He was peaceful and serene. He was ready for this.

He sank to the floor, unable to hold up his own weight. "Good-bye, Sally," he whispered. He sank into oblivion. The last thing he saw was the figure of Sally next to him, bending over his body to look into his face once more.

I'll probably never dream a dream and watch it turn to gold.

I'll probably never lose my life ot save another soul.

"Well, how long will that potion last, Professor?"

"In the portion we gave him, and because we added water to weaken the powerfulness of the potion, I would say about five more minutes."

It had been a little less than three hours since Neville had taken the potion. The thing was that Neville did not know that he had taken a different potion than he had thought. Sally, having found out of Neville plan via his scribbles on odd pieces of parchment, substituted his draught of death with a potion that simulates death for twenty-four hours, then brings you back to life. Professor Snape had helped her make the potion.

"All of the professors here have been waiting for the two of you to make up and get engaged."

"I know, Professor; it's just that I couldn't reach Neville. He has become so distant, you know? I just didn't know what to do.

"When he told me that it was over, that we should be seeing other people, I was heart-broken. So, I covered it up by dating this other guy. The Ravenclaw. I can't even remember his name anymore. It seems like so long ago. But I feel bad for him. He asked me to marry him, but I had to refuse. I wasn't in love with him. He wasn't the one for me, that's all."

"I understand. But I hope Neville will, too. He should be waking up just about now."

And so he was.

*Neville's POV (kind of)*

He felt himself waking up. He could feel his heart beating, his lungs pumping in air. What had gone wrong? Had he not made the potion strong enough? But he remembered doing everything right. His eyelids weren't heavy anymore. He slowly opened his eyes. His hand moved towards his pockets. "Good thing I brought this," he muttered to himself as he slid out a different bottle of poison. "Don't know why I didn't just use cyanide before."

Before he could uncork the bottle, though, a hand stopped him. "Leave me alone," he said weakly.

"No, Neville; I won't let you." He remembered that voice from somewhere...just where...it wasn't...was it?...

But if I will love than I will find

I have touched another life and that's something

Something worth leaving behind

"Sally?"

"Neville, I love you. I've always loved you. Stop with this nonsense. I never liked that Ravenclaw guy. I dated him because I was angry at your for dumping me. You understand, don't you?"

But Neville heard not a word of what she had said. All he heard was "Neville, I love you." And that was enough for him. "Sally, will you marry me?"

"Of course, Nev; you know I've been waiting for that for too many years, don't you?"

And with that, they did what they had been waiting to do for so long...

Snape quietly left the room, a small smile creeping onto his features.

Hey baby, see the future that we're building

Our lives live on

In the lives of our children.

*two years later*

"Neville, honey, look! He's walking!"

Neville walked into the living room to see Sally and his baby on opposite ends of the room, the baby standing on his feet and wobbling over to his mommy. "That's my boy! Come here, Rupert! Come to Daddy!" Now Neville was crouched on the floor, next to Sally, coaxing his boy on.

The baby, very slowly, walked towards his parents. He finally reached his mother's arms. "That's my little sweetheart! Yes, you are! Yes, you are!" Now, Neville took up his child and swung him around the room. The baby laughed in the cute way babies laugh. But then, the baby yawned.

"Looks like it's time for a nap-nap!" They took their little one into his room and placed him in his crib.

"Neville, look at him," said Sally. "He'll grow up to be just like you!"

"I'd rather him grow up to be like you, but if you insist..." He grabbed his wife by the waist and hugged her tightly. "But, seriously, Sally, I think he's gonna be like you. He's gonna have a bright future filled with love and laughter. And I hope he doesn't have moods like mine, or we're going to have our hands full!" They laughed together, forgetting the troubled past and looking into the bright future.

And that's something, something worth leaving behind.