Neville Longbottom

You and Neville have been friends since your first year at Hogwarts. You met on the train during your first trip there, and you've been friends ever since—in your fifth year. You were sorted into Gryffindor together. He talked to you despite your pimples.

It's always been like this; it's genetic. At first, as a child, it all started with a couple of unnoticeable pimples. During my first year, they increased slightly, but they were still unnoticeable, as they were during my second year. During my third year, the situation worsened—they were mostly on my forehead, and by my fourth year, they had appeared on my cheeks as well. No treatment helped—not perfectly selected creams, not dietary restrictions, not the rules that came with them. In short, nothing.

Neville didn't pay attention to it - who doesn't have flaws? You didn't believe it at first. "Pity? Or is he using you?" you thought. But it wasn't like that: he communicated with you selflessly, just as you did with him.

--

It was Saturday morning. You were standing in your room, in front of the mirror, looking at your face, and you didn't notice Neville enter the room.