[Neville looks quite like he'd just been slapped across the face.
He hadn't thought of that. Any of it, really. Not with Lily, and not with any of his other housemates (or Professor Dumbledore.) How hard it must be to come from the past and be unable to do anything to prepare for the future. It would probably drive him up a wall if a stranger walked in and told him that something terrible was going to happen a decade or two from now and ruin the lives of his friends and family, and that he couldn't do anything about it. Since coming here he's been so laser-focused on Snape, on how nobody is doing anything about Snape, that he'd let everything else get kicked right to the wayside.
Which is just-- well, he shouldn't be this much of a tosser. He isn't this much of a tosser, and he's letting a couple of Death Eaters turn him into one. That alone manages to make him feel even worse now than he had when Lily first walked in - and that's saying something.
In direct contrast to her relative restraint, Neville is blinking rapidly because there are definitely tears in his eyes. He's always been what one might charitably refer to as a bit emotional.]
I didn't say- I didn't mean-- [Well, he hadn't said but he had meant, which is the problem here. The war was all he lived and breathed and thought about for the past year, it was the only thing he'd ever done worth doing, and now he can't even talk about it. It's such a profoundly isolating feeling that he's lashing out at people who don't deserve it - he really doesn't want to be the kind of guy who does that. Miserably, ashamed, he ducks his head and fights back the urge to palm at his eyes.] I'm sorry.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-04-03 07:29 am (UTC)He hadn't thought of that. Any of it, really. Not with Lily, and not with any of his other housemates (or Professor Dumbledore.) How hard it must be to come from the past and be unable to do anything to prepare for the future. It would probably drive him up a wall if a stranger walked in and told him that something terrible was going to happen a decade or two from now and ruin the lives of his friends and family, and that he couldn't do anything about it. Since coming here he's been so laser-focused on Snape, on how nobody is doing anything about Snape, that he'd let everything else get kicked right to the wayside.
Which is just-- well, he shouldn't be this much of a tosser. He isn't this much of a tosser, and he's letting a couple of Death Eaters turn him into one. That alone manages to make him feel even worse now than he had when Lily first walked in - and that's saying something.
In direct contrast to her relative restraint, Neville is blinking rapidly because there are definitely tears in his eyes. He's always been what one might charitably refer to as a bit emotional.]
I didn't say- I didn't mean-- [Well, he hadn't said but he had meant, which is the problem here. The war was all he lived and breathed and thought about for the past year, it was the only thing he'd ever done worth doing, and now he can't even talk about it. It's such a profoundly isolating feeling that he's lashing out at people who don't deserve it - he really doesn't want to be the kind of guy who does that. Miserably, ashamed, he ducks his head and fights back the urge to palm at his eyes.] I'm sorry.