Harry half-hoped his friends wouldn't find him on the train, he wanted quiet to think. He had always known his aunt and uncle didn't care for him. He'd made the assumption that it was based on him not being of their blood, but now he knew it was based on the fact he was magical. The questions were what did he want to do about it and what could he do about it…
Neville was swift to say his goodbyes to his Gran. All summer he had seen Harry most every day but he had watched as Harry had grow quieter and more morose with every passing day. He wondered what would bring his best friend back to himself. He got on the train and looked for Harry. He found him in one of the compartments that were very unpopular, the one next to the prefects. Usually those compartments were the last to fill because the students generally didn't want to get caught in their mischief.
"Finally, there you are!"
"Hey, Nev."
"Alright, what's wrong? All summer I've watched you become more down with every passing week. I've minded my own business but I can't stand this any longer. Tell me what's going on with you?"
"Nothing." Harry tried to lie.
Neville recognized it for what it was. "Bollocks, Harry. I know you didn't get enough sleep this summer because of your adopted baby cousin, but all summer I've watched you; it's like you're a plant that is being denied sunlight or water. Something is wrong. I care about you, you're like the brother I always wanted, please tell me."
Harry felt a prickle of tears in his eyes, but he blinked them back. "The death of a dream, Neville, a death of a dream is all."
Neville gulped. Harry was almost crying. He waved his wand towards the door of their compartment, sealing it with a basic locking charm. "Tell me. I swear on my magic it will go no further."
Harry sighed. Then he drew his own wand and silenced the compartment. "All my life I've dreamed of my Aunt and Uncle caring about me the way they did my cousin Dudley. I did everything they expected of me, everything I could think of to please them. I thought that they didn't love me because I wasn't their son, because I wasn't born of them."
Harry paused, searching for words that would describe his thoughts and feelings. He was a little surprised to realize it was only Neville he trusted enough to be this open with. "I thought if I did what they wanted of me I could earn their affection. This summer made it clear to me that their dislike of me isn't because I am not theirs, but because I am magical. Nothing I ever do will be good enough for them to feel more than duty towards me. They will never love me. While Dudley and I are close and trust one another we will never be brothers because he is their child and I'm just the abnormal burden on the house, his parents don't care about me and there has always been a gap that stems from the inequalities between how we've been raised. To them I am nothing but a tool for revenge on Albus Dumbledore," Harry added in a barely audible mutter, "or a sometime servant."
Neville blinked. He and his Gran had their problems, but this was a whole new level of relational problems. "Why do they want revenge on Albus Dumbledore?"
Harry suddenly realized he had said more than he should.
Neville watched as his best friend closed up. Over the last two years he had gotten to know Harry very well. His Great Uncle Algie, Aunt Enid and his Gran had always put down his choices and assumed because he preferred working with plants that he was clueless about people but he wasn't. He knew for example that Gran had feared he had completely suppressed his magic in response to the attack on his parents and on reflection that was true to a degree. Neville had realized late last year when he met the Ravenclaw firstie, Luna Lovegood, that he was an bit of an empath. Empathy was a rare gift, one he had suppressed. He had shut himself down to avoid being overwhelmed by the emotions of the others surrounding him at home and at school.
Luna had bumped into him. "I'm sorry. I didn't notice you; your walls are very good. I normally sense everyone before we touch. I didn't know an empath could build walls. How did you learn?"
Neville had been shocked. "I-" He'd wanted to deny he was an empath, but after being around Harry who instinctively contained himself on an almost constant basis he had become more aware of how he could sense the moods of people around him. It also explained why he preferred plants; plant don't shove their feeling in your face. Through the meditation during tai chi and through the steady encouragement and faith Harry gave him, Neville had learned him what was him versus what came at him from everyone else and how to block it rather than suppress his own magic.
"I wonder if I could learn it. I might have to get to know Harry more. But you might want to learn to make yours less like a stone wall and more like a benezoazian's membrane. That way you'll be less likely to be surprised and less likely to have it break down on you."