He was quite all right just being 'a bloke named Neville'. He was never one to want for fame or all the attention Harry had gotten because of his name. In fact, he felt more sorry for Harry than anything else. It wasn't Harry's fault, after all. Just happen stance. Still, he was a bloke named Neville by James Potter and Sirius Black.
It remained to be seen if that was a good thing or a bad thing, so far. He really didn't know what to think of Harry's dad and godfather. Sure, he'd heard of them. His gran had drilled that information into him from when he was a kid, and how they were all related, one way or another. But Neville liked people more for who they were rather than where they came from or what they did.
So when he'd gotten the invitation, Neville thought hard about what to wear. Usually to a party, he would wear a suit. Yet, protocol from what he'd heard said that he should go as casual as possible. And so did the invitation. Lamely deciding on his school robes with his swimming costume beneath just in case (given the location), Neville said the password when he approached the prefect's bath and his eyes went wide when he entered.
They definitely knew how to decorate this place! Compared to what this place looked like even a year ago, this was definitely a lot better. "Er, hi," greeted Neville as he stepped, looking around curiously. "I'm the bloke named Neville." He had no problem poking fun at himself any more. In fact, it was rather easy to do, and it helped after everything that had happened.