Harry listened, understanding. Well, to some extent he understood; he could really only imagine what it must be like to live in Voldemort's world. It was still very weird to him that so many people who would have fought had been simply controlled, allowed to live. It didn't quite mesh with his idea of the person Voldemort was, but it was probably a good thing that he didn't fully understand Voldemort's motives. What kind of person would that make him?
"Yeah," he said. Having a limited number of people to talk to, at least, was something he understood. Having to keep up a false cheer and optimism even when he didn't feel it, too. He always felt like he couldn't really admit it to Ron or Hermione when he was really down, because he'd bring them down with him.
He'd been having trouble with that lately, with his scar forever aching. It was prickling now, but he'd gotten accustomed to keeping it out of his expression. There was no point in telling anyone about it unless it was useful to them.
It was still his first instinct to say no to Neville's request, though. Not because he didn't trust Neville or believe what he was saying, but because the idea of Neville getting involved, getting hurt or killed when Harry had gotten him into the battle was one that he didn't want to deal with. He had barely, barely accepted that Ron and Hermione were fighting for their own reasons and nothing he could say would stop them. Still, their influence made it difficult to say no, and he did feel like he might need help soon, loath as he was to admit it.
Even if he killed Voldemort, he might die trying. Other people would be needed to take care of everything else, and maybe that was their destiny, in the same way it was his. That didn't mean Harry wanted to be the one instructing them, guiding towards them their possible deaths.
"I really don't want to see you get hurt, Neville," he said, sounding tired. He knew that this argument was probably futile, that he had really already conceded. He couldn't fight Voldemort and fight his friends, too, and Neville had been able to stand up to his friends even in first year. "You or Hannah. Or anyone else, for that matter."
An idealist's view, maybe, but without his idealism, Harry would have nothing to keep him going, especially after all these years. He clung to it with everything he had.