Neville didn't know how it happened, one moment he's furious and grieving the loss of one of his best friends at the battle of Hogwarts; All he can see is red as he cuts off the head of Voldemort's pet snake.

The next he's waking up, that moment in the battle feeling like a fuzzy memory; It makes no sense, yet when he looks around he can see the telltale signs of his childhood bedroom.

He can't help but clutch his blanket for comfort, the familiar feeling of his heart starting to race alerting him that something is wrong, well apart from the obvious. ah yes, anxiety my old friend, what a bitch you are.

Being diagnosed with anxiety by a mind healer in his teens, along with his slew of other issues, and finally getting help changed a lot for him. Now here he is, from the looks of it a child once more. (though how young, he will still have to figure out.)

Oh, and in the custody of his Gran again, joy.

At least he knows now what he didn't know when he was a child. His Gran does not see him, will never see him. In her mind he is a poor substitute and imitation of the son she so desperately misses and wants back.

Neville is not his father and he never will be. He has made peace with that, he doesn't want to be his father, not like he did when he was seeking validation from the only parental figure he has ever known.

He loves his parents don't get him wrong, but he will never be an Auror. He hopes that somewhere in his parents minds, they want his happiness more than for him to be a carbon copy of his father.

Sometimes Neville wishes they had died that night, it might sound callous but he thinks it might have been better for them to be dead than to be stuck in the perpetual state they are now.

Fucking Bellatrix Lestrange, Crazy Bitch of a Witch

He doesn't know what magic or entity sent him back in time,(because that is the only option, he refuses to believe he is a seer or worse that he's insane. He did not make up the next ,,, eight? nine? years of his life.) but he will not squander a blessing when it is bestowed upon him.

As a child he had been so anxious, he had still felt like an imposter for so long, a pretender in the midst of the greatness that was his friends.

Now, he has coping mechanisms and preternatural memories of another life that will never be, not if Neville can help it.

__________________

Apparently coping mechanisms don't work as well when you're a child and haven't trained your mind to have any mental fortitude through repetition of use.

Who knew?

It takes him longer than he expects to calm his racing heart to an acceptable level of anxiety, he wishes he was easier to deal with but at this point it's nothing new.

The first step he takes is trying to figure out how old he is, he needs to know what has already happened and what events are still to come.

He hopes he hasn't gone to Hogwarts yet, a change in personality would be hard to explain. Not impossible but not something he really wants to put any effort into, he'd rather a clean slate from the beginning.

Slipping out of bed and into the hall is easy, his gran doesn't keep tabs on him unless she wants to compare him to his father in some way. As far as the house elf's know, he doesn't need to be monitored. It was the norm for so long that when he learned about his friends having actual families and parents that cared enough to take care of them it left him feeling more than a little hollow; Hollow and robbed of the opportunity for family, he doesn't think his parents are perfect, he's never been one to delude himself, but parents who were alive and coherent enough to take care of him had to be better than what he has now.

Alas you can't change the past.

Well in this moment Neville could, but that wasn't really a choice he made.

He can't help but try to quiet his footsteps as he pads into the dinning room where he and his gran usually take breakfast. A habit he honed thanks to the year of hell that was having Death Eaters in Hogwarts.

When he gets to the dinning room he see's that his gran is already there, she's looking down at a piece of mail as if she could set it alight through the power of her mind alone.

Neville can't help the way his gaze roams over her face taking in every freckle and wrinkle, he has a margin of sympathy for the woman who probably thought her child rearing years were over only to lose her son and have to take care of her grandson all in one fell swoop.

"Good Morning, Gran." Neville said, he keeps his tone and words polite as he was raised. Back straight, head held high, shoulders down. He was Heir Longbottom, he had survived encounters with Death Eaters, his gran in comparison shouldn't be nearly as scary.

He carefully pulls out his chair and takes a seat while he waits for the house elves to bring them breakfast.

His gran's eyes have snapped up, she looks surprised to see him.

"Neville," Gran says, her lips pursing as she hands him the piece of mail she had been looking at.

He takes it carefully from her hand and sees the Hogwarts crest on the envelope.

Good that means he can meet all his friends again, and hopefully make better first impressions.

Speaking of first impressions, there was a niggling in the back of his mind that told him something important was supposed to happen soon. He opened his letter to read through it while pondering what it was that he was missing.

first impressions.

first impressions.

first impressions.

Malfoy

That's what it was that was niggling, he remembers the night he and Haz had stayed up late talking about everything and nothing, he had told him about how he had met the Malfoy Heir in Madam Malkin's in Diagon Alley. It had left a rotten taste in his mouth because the interaction had reminded him of his bully of a cousin and on his birthday as well, maybe this time could be different. If he can get Gran to take him on the great "Harry Potter"'s Birthday, he may be able to stop the interaction from happening at all.

"Gran," Neville says in his most polite tone, he looks up at her trying to maintain eye contract, it was better now years later than when she had first tried to teach him, but he was still wholly uncomfortable with eye contact when he didn't want it. "May we go to Diagon Alley on Harry Potter's Birthday?"

His Gran blinks in what seems to be surprise, then amusement.

"I didn't think you cared for anything that had to do with Harry Potter, Neville, you've never given any indication otherwise before."

Neville has to think fast, it was true he had never really bought into the rumors surrounding Harry before he met him. (Oh he knows Harry didn't do anything those children's books said he did, but he also knows Haz and the boy is wicked powerful.)

"I don't know, isn't he my godbrother? I just, I have a feeling I need to be there on that day." Neville finally replies, it was the best he had so it would have to do.

For the first time in what felt like ever, his Gran looked at him as if she was really seeing him.

"Fine." His Gran finally replied. "We're going on the 31st, don't forget to make your list, I don't want to have to go back simply because you forgot something, Neville."

Which is fair, she hadn't gotten him the Remembrall for no reason after all.

"Yes, Gran." He chirps happily, "I'll start today so If i forget anything I can add it on in the following days."

Just as he's finishing speaking, breakfast appears in front of them.

Logically he knows he just ate last night in this body, but mentally he's been dodging Death Eaters and meals trying to get as many students out of Hogwarts and to the safety of Aberforth's Bar as he could. He's ravenous as he digs into the food the elves prepared.

Which reminds him, if he wants to not blow up a cauldron and get a decent grade in Potions with Professor Snape, he's gonna have to ask an Elf to teach him the different ways to prepare foods in terms of slicing and dicing.

Summer homework has never been his cup of tea, but needs must.