Thus the reason Harry had decided to Sort himself into Gryffindor. Right now, Neville was an easily frightened child with no confidence. Certainly, he acted nothing like the heir to one of the Founding Five families should. Harry planned on fixing that by taking Neville under his wing and bolstering the boy's flagging self-esteem. This would ingratiate the Longbottom heir to him, thereby giving him a powerful ally once he reached his Age of Majority.
Sure, it was a little underhanded, using the boy's lack of confidence for his own gains. But Harry justified himself with the fact that he was also helping the Longbottom heir quite a bit. Not only would Neville gain Harry as a powerful ally, he would also help Neville become the kind of man other people could look up to and admire. More to the point, Neville would be able to have confidence in himself, something that Harry felt was imperative for anybody to have.
After all, if you couldn't be confident in yourself, who would be willing to have confidence in you?
XoX
During his 11-years of life, Harry had placed people into three categories. These categories, or archetypes, as it were, were not conducive to everyone, but for the most part, Harry felt that most human beings fell under one of these three categories: Sheep, Shepherds and Wolves.
The sheep were what made up the majority of the populace. They were the people who had no real sense of self beyond their unique personality. These were the people who 'followed the heard' as it were. They did things because everyone else was doing them; they followed those who had a better vision of the future than themselves—or simply had more power—and they typically followed the whims of the crowd. Generally speaking, aside from how the vast majority of people were sheep, they were fairly useless to his overall goals.
Shepherds were a just as obvious branch of people. These were the people who had vision. They were revolutionaries of their times, leaders in every sense of the word. Those who Harry had dubbed shepherds were the kind of people the sheep followed. Harry liked to think himself a shepherd—or at least a shepherd-in-training. Sort of like being a Padawan learner.
Like shepherds, the wolves were a just as obvious euphemism. Wolves were predators, stalking their prey and pouncing when least expected. They were one of the apex predators, an animal well-known for both their cunning and viciousness.
Much like the wolves of the animal kingdom, human wolves acted very similar in execution. They preyed upon the sheep, devouring them in a not-so-literal way until they had what they wanted, which sometimes led to death and sometimes didn't, though occasionally death may be preferable. So far, the only people who Harry would have considered wolves in recent years was Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Of course, not everyone fell under these three categories. Lisa, for instance, was certainly no sheep, yet not quite a shepherd either. And she was far too nice to be a wolf. She was one of those people he could not place into a specific category, though that may have to do with her meaning too much for him to place into a stereotype. Perhaps the most accurate way to describe her would be a partner, someone he thought of as an equal, someone who could be a Shepard, but had no desire to take on the roll.
Hopefully, Neville would eventually become like Lisa in time. If he wanted to succeed in any plans he might make, he needed more than just sheep who blindly followed orders.
"Do you see him?"
"The one next to the pudgy kid?"
"It's Harry Potter!"
"The boy-who-lived!"
"I can't believe he's actually going to Hogwarts!"
"Oh, he's so adorable!"
Harry Potter listened to the students he passed in the hall and watched them gawk at him like he was some kind of circus animal. He made sure to memorize each and everyone person who did and put them under the 'sheep' category, which just so happened to include pretty much everyone he passed that morning.
Really, Harry noted with some ironic form of amusement, the people in the wizarding world acted exactly like those in the muggle world. He wondered what those blood purists would think if they knew that?
They'd probably throw a fit.
"Something on your mind, Neville?" Harry asked quite suddenly. The much shorter boy walking next to him looked up from where he'd previously been staring at the ground, his face scrunched up in thought.
"It's... it's nothing," Neville mumbled, ducking his head back down to stare at the large, granite tiles on the floor.
"Neville," Harry admonished with a slightly chiding voice. "If you have a question, please don't hesitate to ask. Asking questions is a fundamental key to gaining knowledge. If you don't ask questions, you'll never learn anything worth while."
Neville looked back up at Harry in surprise. Harry just smiled in return.
"So what did you want to ask me?"
"It's just..." Neville's eyes darted around the hall, and Harry realized the boy was looking at the dozens upon dozens of people they passed, all of whom stared at Harry like he was the second coming of Merlin. "How do you do it?"
"Ignore the stares, you mean?" Harry asked for clarification. When Neville nodded, he took a moment to think before responding. "I don't; I just don't let it bother me."