Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the canon characters. OC characters( if any) belong to me (obviously) and of course the plot belong to me.

Rating: T, it's mainly for safety. Abuse and rape but not graphic and a little language.

Summary: Harry Potter is a lonely misfit who hides a painful past while trying to fly under the radar, concealing some extraordinary powers amidst his 6th year, while Neville Longbottem, the Boy Who Lived, is struggling with Lord Voldemort's return and a secret that could change the BWL's life and the way people see him forever.

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Stranger, Standing Alone

Chapter One

September 1st, King's Cross Station

The usual throngs crowded King's Cross on September the first. Business men hurried to their trains while parents ushered families to their destinations. It was the usual morning rush, but it was also mixed with the most unusual. Dotted here and there through the crowds of people were children ranging in age with large trunks and some even with cages filled with owls. A new school year had started and students were streaming to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry Potter darted through the crowd as fast as his injuries would allow him, panting heavily. Now, he thought, was no time for magical security. Not bothering to stop and watch for muggles, he broke into a run and pushed himself and his trunk through the barrier to the platform holding the Hogwarts Express.

Just in time, he thought, as he heaved his belongings up onto the train and then set off to find a compartment. Choosing an abandoned one and the end, he settled down to lick his wounds. Lifting hi shirt he winced as he viewed the damage. It was just his luck. He could survive a fall from the top most balcony of St. Johns Home for Boys but still suffered from bruises and cuts. At least now he could hide them instead of having to cover them up the muggle way with powders and long sleeved shirts and pants. Sighing, he pulled out his wand and placed glamour charms over the worst of the scarring on his chest and upper arms. Hennerington had had a field day this summer, thinking bitterly about the Dean. But then again, he couldn't give the bastard all the credit. Running his hand over the now invisible writing scarred over his chest he had to admit that some of the decorations on his chest had been his handiwork. Harry pulled down his tee and laid his head against the window praying for sleep to come and give a respite from the nightmare he was living in.

With a jolt Harry jerked awake, not sure at what had awoken him. The sky outside the window was slowly darkening into a reddish hue and to the distance he could see mountains beginning to border the horizon. He glanced at his watch, wincing as pain ran through his chest and nether regions. He looked up as the train gave another screech. So that had been what had awoken him. But why would the train be stopping when there was no sign of the Hogsmead station in sight? Harry sat back down and waited, figuring the train would continue on its journey soon enough. Minutes passed and the train was still and a standstill. Grimacing in frustration, Harry got up and went to the door of his compartment, listening. The corridor outside of the small compartment was silent, no sound stirring in its desolation. Stepping out into the deserted corridor, Harry couldn't see nor hear anything from any of the surrounding compartments. Suddenly a blast of cold, clammy air hit his face and before he could act, a feeling of despair washed over him. Dimly he realized he could now here cries of help and panic before he sank into a world of memories he would rather forgotten. Bygone scenes flashed before his eyes forcing him to relive them.

He was seven and he was panting as he tried to run with a twisted ankle and swollen knee. He was too slow, and they caught him again, yelling out their triumph as they pounded the senses from his body.

He was four and was slowing starving in his small cupboard that was fashioned as a bedroom. He ventured out to get food, sure that his uncle was sleeping. A hand at the back of his neck and sharp whippings from a leather belt showed how wrong he was.

He was six and was being dragged from the car into the rain. He was set down on the cold hard steps and then watched as his uncle drove away into the night. The sign he could barely make out read St. John's Home for Children.

He was ten and was jumping from the highest balcony of the orphanage only to awake to find the bullies standing over him. He was supposed to have been dead. He had failed again. He had tried knives, cyanide, the noose, and even starvation. He was bound here to live…

Jerk, creek. The train was moving again and gathering speed. Harry awoke to find himself laying face down on the floor, in the entrance of his compartment. Sweating and shaking violently, he picked himself up from the floor and huddled miserably into the farthest corner from the door, trying to block the memories from resurfacing again.

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Neville Longbottem scowled as he watched his two best friends continue to bicker about the dementors.

"Can you two give it a rest already? You're giving me a headache," he said, irritability obvious in his voice.

His two friends looked up in surprise and their usually placid friend.

"Something wrong Nev," asked Ron Weasley, looking over at his best friend who was leaning against the wall, an unreadable( at least to him) expression sketched on his face.

"Nah, I just love revisiting the graveyard every time a dementor gets near me," retorted Neville moodily, while staring out the window at the darkening sky.

"Oh Neville, we didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, you never seem to Hermione. I'm going to go for a walk you guys. I'll be back soon,"

"But Neville, we'll be there soon and you-,"

Neville shut the door soundly behind him, while pulling on his school robes with a Gryffindor prefect badge fixed to the front over his muggle tee and jeans. Reveling in the quiet coolness of the nearly empty corridor he began to walk down through the train, heading towards the farther end of the train. Passing a group of giggling girls he self consciously pulled a lock of light brown hair over his temple, in attempts to hide the famous pentagram scar on his forehead.

The pentagram scar, the little five pointed star that was the cause of all his problems, or so it seemed. It was what gave him away to every witch and wizard in wizarding Britain. Without it, he would have probably been able to go unnoticed in most crowds, because with his light brown hair, brow hair, and average height, he was pretty easy to overlook. Except for the scar. It was the scar that was his only souvenir from the attack on his house when he was a year old. The only souvenir except for his two parents that lay in St. Mungo's insane from being under a prolonged cruciatus curse. It was the scar that marked him as the Boy Who Lived, the only one to survive an attack from You-Know-Who himself. Of so they thought. No one, not even Albus Dumbledore could be completely sure that You-Know-Who actually had attack the house himself as there had been two attacks at the same time on the same night, October 31st 1981. An attack on the Longbottem's and an attack on the Potter's, in Godric's Hollow. Professor Dumbledore had told him that he had to be the one to defeat You-Know-Who because of all the magical residue on him and the house. There hadn't any dark magic on the Potter's house, nor on the soul survivor of the attack, Harry Potter. So, he Neville Longbottem, and been named the Boy Who Lived. All because of a little dark magic on his body and a scar that looked a little bloodier than the lightning bolt on Harry Potter's forehead. And he had never doubted it. Never questioned it until recently, no he had only started when the dementor attacks got worse and forgotten memories had been remembered.

The memories always started the same. He had lied to his friends; the nightmares weren't from the graveyard. The nightmares were memories that the dementors brought back to him. They started with blackness, night. Then the screams came, tortured screams of a man and a woman. Bright red light, and then….figures with white faces? At that point he would usually wake up. The thing that puzzled him though, was once he realized that these were his one year old memories that there was never You-Know-Who in the dreams. Never, not once did the feared Dark Lord make an appearance, and that was something that even he couldn't explain it away.

Neville sighed, no sense in brooding, at least not now. Not until he actually got to Hogwarts and got to see the Headmaster personally and talk to him. Then, for the first time in minutes, he looked up to see where he was going. He frowned, had he ever been this far down the train? This had to be the last car except for the baggage compartments. Peering into random compartments, most which he found to be empty; he turned to head back to the front of the train. Carelessly casting one last glance into an empty compartment he started back up the corridor.

Wait, was someone in there?. Neville turned back to the compartment he had just glanced into and pulled the door open with a shout.

"Hey, hey-are you okay?"

Shaking the figure that he found laying crumpled on the floor of the otherwise deserted compartment, Neville continued to ask frantically if they were okay.

"Hey, shit, I don't even know your name. Are you okay? What year are you? Can you hear me? Hello? Do you need help? Please answer me….," Neville said desperately.

Damn, this kid can't be more than a 4th year, he's so small, thought Neville as he continued to shake the boy, trying to wake him. Turning the small boys face so he could look at it, he gasped as he recognized the familiar features of his house and year mate.

"Potter? Potter, hey, are you okay? Harry, Harry…,"

Neville continued shaking the boy on the floor, when suddenly, emerald green eyes snapped open and a hand flew up to wrench his own from Harry's shoulder.

"Harry?" asked Neville, relief apparent in his voice.

"I'm fine," came the horse whisper, as Harry reached up to quickly wipe away a tear that threatened to fall. This movement did not escape Neville's notice.

"Um, what happened? I mean, unless you usually lay on the floor of the Hogwarts Express….," Neville's voice trailed off as dull emerald green eyes fixed their gaze on his face.

"Just the…nothing. I must of fallen asleep and then fell of the seat. I'm fine," Harry said, his voice staining not to crack with the tears of painful memories still so vivid.

"Oh…um, okay. Well, Ron and Hermione are waiting for me and….well, um, I guess I'll go. Since you're okay…right?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine. You can go," Harry said, turning his head to stare at the floor.

Harry finally looked up from the floor after he heard the click of a closing door. Six years. Six years of being in the same house, year, room and still doesn't even notice. But what did I expect anyway? I'm invisible in a visible body.

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A/N: Okay, this is my first multi-chapter fanfic, so any encouragement is welcome, along with constructive criticism. Also, I have been working on this chapter a very long time (long story….) so unfortunately I have lost a little bit of interest in the story, but if I get some reviews and people actually enjoy it I'll try my hardest to finish the story!

I'm pretty new at dialog ( all my other stories are oneshots with no dialog or poems) so bear with me!

Obviously the characters are going to be a bit OC, after all this is an AU fic, and I am not JKR so I can't right the characters like she does.

This chapter was dragged out a bit to give a little history and just to introduce you to the story. Hopefully the story will proceed a little more quickly in the future chapters.

As for romance, the main ship will probably be Harry/Ginny, but no guarantee that there will be any romance at all in this fic. Might just be friendship. We'll see how things progress.

Also, where I go to school this site is blocked, so I will only be able to update when I am on vacation and am at home. So updates will be a little spaced out. I'll try to get as many chapters updated while I am at home though!

Enjoy!

Shulamit