Really, you never asked for this.
Never asked to love him. Never, ever, ever (maybe one time, but you were drunk and you were already crazy about him and for a second, just a second, it seemed like a good thing to be in love with him).
Never asked to fall into those bottomless eyes (and you’re still falling).
After the war, they put up his portrait next to Dumbledore’s and you like to imagine that the old wizard keeps bothering him every now and then and that he still gets this annoyed “I-really-want-to-Petrificus-Totalus-you-in-a-lake” look. (It was one of your favorites because at least it wasn’t the blank mask he usually wore.)
You never went to see him because really, what would you say? “By the way, Neville, yes, the Neville you picked on and traumatized for the rest of his life, killed Nagini with the sword you gave us, so you kind of got your revenge.” That would go well. (And you’re afraid that as soon as you’ll see him, you’ll freeze or you’ll start crying hysterically, or you’ll do something totally Hermione-esque and you’ll get kicked out of the room)
The thing is… you really miss him. It’s stupid and if you told Harry or Ron, they would probably think you’ve gone crazy and they would send you to St-Mungo’s pronto. Because they don’t know. They never did. You never told them that you’re in love with him. (Because you can’t quite believe it yourself)
You don’t even know if the feelings you have for him could be qualified as “love.” You’re not an expert and you thought you were in love with Ron (yes, yes, Ron, and you’re ashamed of ever thinking that you… yeah, very ashamed). You don’t know if the fact that you miss him more than anything in the world, that you felt like dying when you saw him die (and it took you 1 year to even stop drinking yourself to sleep every night: your friends thought it was because of the war, oh how wrong they were), that you think about him day and night and really it’s kind of an unhealthy obsession at this point and you’re even creeping yourself out, that you would give anything just to see him smile (at you preferably, but you can tolerate him smiling at cute little animals too) and tons of other shitty feelings that you can’t even explain in words… You don’t know if all of that is “love.”
(You don’t know if the fact that, last time you did your Patronus to send a message to Harry, it turned into a doe and you were too scared to send it to Harry so you owled him instead – you don’t know if it means that you’re in love with him.)
(You should really stop kidding yourself.)
You know he’s never going to love you. Because you saw his memories a thousand of times (you asked Harry for a copy and he got you one and it’s a miracle that he didn’t ask any questions really, but maybe he thought that you wanted them out of gratitude). You saw him pining over Lily Evans (Potter) and his struggle with himself and you saw him crying over her dead body (and if that isn’t love, you don’t know what is).
So you don’t lie to yourself or try to make yourself feel better on the nights you remember how he used to look at someone that wasn’t you. You know he’ll only ever love Harry’s mom. And you’re fine with that (it’s easier on days you have too much work to even think about anything other than work).
It doesn’t change the fact that you love him and you never got to say goodbye while he was bleeding on the floor and you had to go (Harry had to drag you out of there and you stumbled and practically fell on your way out). And seriously, what kind of shitty ending was that? You’re supposed to be the brightest witch of your age but at the time, you couldn’t even think of something and Harry had to ask you for a flask (Harry never asked you for obvious things like that because you were always ready).
(Except, that time, that time you weren’t ready and little pieces of your heart, your mind, your soul, were scattered everywhere, drowning in his blood.)
You try to remember his living moments. They weren’t the greatest (but then again, he wasn’t the greatest either, and neither were you, so who are you to judge?). Most of them were horrible. But you enjoy remembering the times you got to spend with him. They were mostly in Potions. And he was mean. (You always fall in love with assholes.) But he was alive.
You’re considering visiting him. That way he could be alive again (in your eyes at least, because he’s actually very dead). And you’re freaking out, like usual. He’s unpredictable. That makes you slightly uneasy (but you love it). You just know that he’s going to be mean, bitter, resentful and not at all pleasant. But you’re counting on Dumbledore to keep him in check while you tell him the things you didn’t have to the time to tell him (not the “love” feelings, no, never that, you still have dignity).
You really want that goodbye. That closure.
(And you want to be able to do a Patronus without your friends freaking out or his memory clinging to you.)