In a station that did not exist, a giant red train loomed. Swirls of steam rose up around it like wings, and in the dimly lit cavernous room, it seemed to have eyes that glared down at passersby. The sounds of children wailing, teens laughing and parents reassuring echoed around the station, magnified, so that if one stood in the station for five minutes, one could hear snippets and snatches of hundreds and hundreds of conversations.

The boy standing in the station that did not exist had a face that was round like the moon. It was largely unblemished, except for a distinct scar on his forehead, that was shaped like a lightning-bolt. He was standing next an elderly woman, his grandmother, who was speaking quietly into his ears. As other families passed, hundreds of pairs of eyes zoomed in on his scar, staring with a mix of reverence and fear. He saw all of this, but his mind was on his grandmother's words.

"Don't accept duels, do you understand me? Keep track of Trevor; you'll need him for Transfiguration. And pay attention in class. And don't forget to comb your hair. And don't wear dirty underwear. And don't get too cozy with any girls. And don't associate with brats, especially if they're from Slytherin, or else your grandmother will have a fit. Do you understand?"

Neville nodded patiently. Nothing she was telling him was exactly new; she had been repeating this well-rehearsed speech during the entire trip to the station. As the stares grew in intensity (one girl had literally stopped moving), he fidgeted anxiously, rather eager to get on to the train and out of the public eye. Pulling gently on his grandmother's hand, he freed himself from her claw-like grasp and picked up his bags. He stood up on tiptoe, kissed his grandmother on the cheek goodbye and hurried on to the train. Most of the other children were still on the platform, bidding their parents goodbye. Spotting an empty compartment, he dived for it and closed the door. Putting up his luggage and taking up post by the window, he lowered his head and curled up his body in an attempt to hide his scar and seem surlier, in order to deter any unwanted compartment-mates to join him.

Slowly, more and more children trickled into the train. They passed in groups of two and three, searching for siblings or friends they could sit with. Neville watched them pass.

Suddenly, the compartment door banged open. A boy with unruly black hair and glasses stuck his head in.

"Can I sit in here?"

Neville nodded reluctantly.

"Oi! We can sit in here!" The boy leaped into the compartment, followed by a boy with shocking red hair and freckles. They were both his age.

The red one threw himself into a seat beside Neville, and the other, into the seat across from him. They sat in an awkward silence for a moment, and then the boy with the glasses extended his hand.

"I'm Harry Potter. And this is Ron Weasley. He's like my distant cousin by marriage or something." He grinned sheepishly.

"His great-aunt is my dad's cousin's uncle's wife or something." Ron added unhelpfully. Neville nodded shyly, understanding. Wizarding families, particular the old pure-blooded ones had a particularly tedious family tree, filled with fourth cousins two or three times removed. He suspected that in some way, he was likely distantly related to the two of them as well.

"I'm N-Neville Longbottom." He said shyly, although he knew they already knew. He was practically wearing a giant name tag on his forehead, after all.

"A-are you the Neville Longbottom?" Ron asked, rather tactlessly in Neville's opinion. Harry seemed to agree, because moments later, Ron doubled over in pain as Harry jabbed a pointy elbow into his stomach.

"Yes..." Neville said.

As the compartment slowly darkened, the three boys settled into a comfortable conversation. Ron, Neville learned, was from the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole and Harry was from Godric's Hollow.

"Wow, really? That's amazing!" Ron exclaimed, impressed.

"It's not much, really. Just a load of grass and some cottages. There weren't a lot of kids my age either, so I was pretty bored, most of the time. I don't meet a lot of people my age." He cast a shy smile at Ron and Neville.

Neville looked down. He understood Harry's feelings, but he suspected that Harry would not understand his. He felt a sudden surge of resentment toward his grandmother. He knew, of course, that she had meant nothing but the best for him, but her actions had, in some ways, disabled him in such social situations. From a young age, she had hidden him away in their sprawling country estate. He was free to roam the acres of untouched forest, but he was rarely able to interact with other children his age. This was all for his protection; he had never understood that better than now, when every eye seemed to be permanently glued to his forehead. He had never felt more out of place.

"I want to be in Gryffindor. " Ron informed them. "My whole family's been in Gryffindor, so it's a tradition, I guess." He shrugged.

"Same here. My mum and dad were Head Boy and Girl in their year, so I guess I've got a lot to live up." Harry said.

"Y-yeah." Neville nodded his head. "We've, uh, we've also only had one or two people in our family who've been in any other houses."

"I think I had a cousin who went to some school in France somewhere." Ron scratched his chin absently.

The three boys looked at each other and smiled awkwardly for a moment, each secretly pleased to have made friends so easily; although none of them would have admitted it, this had been a great concern for all of them.

Harry and Ron had shifted into a heated discussion about Quidditch. Ron was eagerly insisting that the Chudley Cannons, despite their depressing performances in recent games, could still come back in the remaining time before the season was over. Harry was a Puddlemere United supporter, like his dad, and as such, he was highly skeptical about their chances.

The sun began to set. The nice lady who operated the food cart came by, and Neville and Harry loaded up on Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties and Licorice Wands. Ron turned bright red and pulled out a set of sandwiches, but Harry and Neville insisted that they had more than enough and could spare a pasty or two or ten. Soon, all three boys were happily stuffing themselves with snacks.

Suddenly, the door banged open again and another mysterious person dived into the compartment. Ron hurled his pasty across the room with fright. Neville caught a glimpse of bushy brownness and suddenly, a bright-eyed, slightly buck-toothed girl was standing in front of him.

"Is anybody sitting here?" She gestured to the seat beside Harry.

"No." Harry looked slightly reluctant to share a seat, but he scooted over politely.

She plopped herself down on to the seat, clearly worn out.

"My name is Hermione Granger." She was panting heavily as the three boys introduced themselves.

"I was running." She explained, noticing their confused glances. "Some awful pig-faced girl was trying to drop her toad in my hair, which was absolutely revolting. I think I lost her near the bathrooms, because she couldn't get around the nice lady selling the snacks, but I was worried that her friends might come after me, you know. " She shuddered. Neville wondered which had left her more out of breath, the running or the high-speed chattering.

"Why was she trying to do that?" Ron asked curiously.

"Well, she and her friends didn't want me to sit in her compartment, so I told them that the compartments were public property and that I could sit wherever I wanted. They tried to push me out, but I just ducked under them-she was really tall, the girl who tried to push me out was. I think she was rather insulted so she started chasing me with her frog, but I made her robes fly up a bit and she tripped. Although I think that just made her angrier. " She smiled, still clearly satisfied.

"How did you make her robes fly up?" Ron asked incredulously at the same time that Neville exclaimed "You c-can do spells already?".

Hermione stared at them, slightly shocked. "Of course, it was only a levitation spell. It's the only one I really know, and I was dreadfully worried because I tried a more complex spell and it didn't work, even though I think I did the wrist movement correctly. I think it's something like this-" and here she demonstrated by lazily flicking her wrist, "but it didn't work. Though I suppose that's what we're going to school for, isn't it? But I wasn't sure if anybody else could do spells, or if I should be able to do some rudimentary spells or something."

"What Wizarding family do you come from?" Harry asked, interested.

"Yeah. Are you a half-blood? I've never heard of a family named Granger before." Ron piped in.

"Oh, I don't think I've got a wizard in my family. My parents haven't got any magic, see, and I don't know my grandmum and granddad much but I don't think they did either. That's why I was worried, because I assumed people who've got magic in their family would have already picked up something."

Harry nodded. "I can do an unlocking spell." Stepping up to the compartment door, he whispered a word and the door sprung unlocked.

"It isn't much, but my dad only taught me five or six." He shrugged apologetically. "I learned another one that was like this..."

"Locomotor Cage." He said loudly, pointing his wand at his owl cage, where a great big white owl sat, staring at him with big eyes. Nothing happened, and Harry looked slightly embarrassed.

"I think it's more like this, actually. Locomotor Cage!" Hermione said with a great flourish of her arms and the cage floated up. She waved her arm around, looking pleased, and the cage followed. Neville thought he saw a wave of irritation wash over Harry's face, but it disappeared quickly.

"I need to use the restroom." Ron leaped up suddenly and hurried out the room, but Neville noticed how red he was in the face as he left the compartment. Harry and Hermione stared confusedly after him.

"Can you do any spells, Neville?" Harry asked, turning to him.

"N-no. I'm not very good at magic. At first we didn't even know if I had any magic at all, until this one day when Uncle Algie dropped me out the second story window and I bounced down our driveway, and that was only a few weeks before my letter came." He blushed intensely.

"I'm not sure that when you get your magic has to do with how good you are at it, does it? Although I think I started showing magic when I was really little, like six or seven. I think I made a flower change colors or something. I'm not sure, I guess it might..." Neville suddenly felt that he sympathized slightly with the pig-faced girl that Hermione was attempting to flee from.

"I think I need to go to the bathroom also." Hermione said, hopping up.

The instant she left the carriage, Harry leapt up and snatched up his bags.

"Quick, let's get out of here before she gets back." He grinned mischievously at Neville. Neville got up, got his bags and followed Harry out of the compartment. Near the back of the train, they found Ron, who rather sheepishly waved them into the carriage.

The rest of the train ride passed uneventfully. Neville found a new Chocolate Frog card, Hengist of Woodcroft, who promptly left the card after shooting him an unimpressed scowl, leaving Neville feeling slightly embarrassed. The three boys changed into their school robes as the train slowly pulled into Hogsmeade.

The first years boarded the boats. These boats made Neville slightly nervous, as did the main doors, the stairs, the talking pictures, the foreboding suits of armor, the strange talking statues. As a matter of fact, the entire expedition from the boats to the main hall was one terrifying journey. To make matter worse, he was painfully aware that every pair of eyes, including those of the teachers and the paintings, were glued to his forehead, where his scar glared intimidatingly.

It was in the main hall that he met Draco Malfoy for the second time. The first time was at some family gathering when he was much younger, and from then on, he had always harbored a deep fear of him. His memories of that gathering primarily involved a jealous Malfoy, who as per protocol, felt a need to bully anyone he considered inferior to him.

"Hey Squib." He smirked as he passed. Harry and Ron shot him dark glances.

"That dolt. We ought to-" Harry grinned at Ron quickly before pointing his wand at the back of Draco's robes, which promptly leaped up and tangled with his legs, causing him to trip and land face first at the feet of a pretty pair of Indian twins who pulled their robes away, giggling. Many of the people near them laughed as Draco tried to untangle himself from the mess and Ron and Neville shot Harry glances of impressed admiration.

"Trip jinx." Harry muttered, grinning at Neville. Neville smiled back, and he wondered if Harry's face ever hurt; he had smiled more in the last hour than Neville had smiled in his life, and Neville was a fairly happy person, frankly.

Draco whirled around. Checking to make sure that Hagrid was deep in conversation with Professor McGonagall, a tall stern woman with a permanently angry look, he hit Neville with a curse that made him extremely itchy. Neville immediately began scratching furiously at his legs, while Ron and Harry hurried forward, only to be rebuffed by Draco's two goons, Crabbe and Goyle.

The first years filed into the Great Hall, Neville still scratching away at his legs and arms. In the crowd, he noticed Hermione Granger, who was shooting them dark glances; he had not doubt that she knew exactly why they left. The first years got up onto the benches and sat nervously, waiting idly until their names were called by the terrifying Professor McGonagall.

It was quite mortifying for Neville, when he stepped up with shaking legs to be sorted and found that he could not stop itching himself. Loud guffaws came from the Slytherins as he stepped up to the seat, itching fiercely at his back and legs, where red rashes had sprung up. He pulled the hat up onto his head, and itching all the while, listened to the hat as it deliberated his fate.

"Well. You'd rather not be in Slytherin, which is a pity I suppose. You probably wouldn't fit in in Ravenclaw, which I think you know, but you could be a Hufflepuff maybe? No? Well, we've gotten rid of all the rest so all you can be is a GRYFFINDOR!"

And as Neville hurried toward the Gryffindor table, which was applauding loudly, he felt that he had never been more relieved in his life.

Also, the rashes on his legs were starting to bleed.

The Great Hall was filled with the loud buzz of conversation as children and adults forced dish after dish of delicious food down their throats, as though they were afraid that they might never eat again. Ghosts floated about, dropping in on conversations. The older students talked loudly, confidently, comfortable and eager to show off their experience to the new, timid first years, who sat in a group, excited but slightly scared.

The variety and quantity of food that appeared magically on the dishes was overwhelming. Many of the foods Neville did not even recognize, but the ones that he did were more than enough to fill his stomach and then some. All around him, magic thickened the air he breathed and hung heavy on his skin, and he could not recall ever having felt more and home.

Up at the tables where the teachers sat, Dumbledore and McGonagall were deep in conversation; they held between them a copy of the most recent edition of the Daily Prophet. On the cover, a middle-aged writer named Daisy Hookums winked at Neville, before leaving the frame. Next to them, the Muggle Studies professor, Professor Pettigrew, was laughing at a comment the Herbology professor, a dumpy witch named Professor Sprout had made. Down at the end of the row, Professor Quirrell. who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts was having a conversation with Hagrid, who, from the looks of it, was more interested in his pheasant than in Quirrell. Tiny Professor Flitwick, who taught Charms, was entirely concealed by the table. The tassle on the tip of his purple hat flopped around has he ate. At the other end of the table, a man with a sharp, hooked nose and greasy hair glared down at the students; his eyes seemed to bore straight into their heads. Down at the other end, a grossly fat man was gobbling the food down faster than they appeared on the plate; he was the only person in the hall who had an empty plate in front of him. This was Professor Slughorn, who taught Potions.

Neville had been sorted into Gryffindor, along with four other boys and three girls. Hermione Granger was also in Gryffindor, as was Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, as well as a dark-skinned Muggle boy named Dean Thomas, a round-faced slightly rodent-like boy named Seamus Finnigan and a pair of giggly girls, named Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Parvati Patil had a twin sister named Padma who had been sorted into Ravenclaw.

"That's so neat!" Lavender squealed.

"Yeah, I think it's a family thing. My dad has a twin brother too, and he works in the Ministry." Parvati smiled.

"Really? What does he do?" Seamus asked.

"He's an Auror." Parvati responded proudly.

"Really? My dad and mum are Aurors too! Maybe they know him." Harry chimed in.

"Ooooh yeah. That would be neat! Ask them if they know Paresh Patil!"

Further down the table, Ron was explaining about Quidditch to Dean, who had never heard of it before.

"Basically, you've got these three guys who ride on broomsticks and they throw around this Quaffle that they try to get into these hoops that are blocked by a Keeper-"

"-a-and that's worth ten points." Neville cut in shyly.

"Right. And then there are these other balls called Bludgers, these nasty black balls that are really tough and all, that go around and try to hit people, so the Beaters have got to protect the players and hit the other team with the Bludgers." Dean nodded in understanding.

"And then there's the Snitch." Neville added helpfully, feeling slightly more confident.

"That's the one that the Seeker has to go after, it's worth a hundred and fifty points. Once you get the Snitch, the game is over. That's why they're really important."

"It makes more sense if you see it." Lavender put in, having lost interest in Parvati and Harry, who were now talking about all the Aurors that their parents had introduced to them. "It's kind of hard for Muggles to get, I think."

Hermione and Percy, Ron's older brother, who was a prefect and had helped get rid of the jinx that Malfoy had put on Neville, were discussing classes.

"I'm a little worried about Transfiguration, because I heard it's terribly difficult."

"It's alright, McGonagall is an excellent teacher, she been teaching since my parents were in school. She normally gets everyone through the OWLs okay."

"Those are the wizarding examinations, right?"

"Yes, I've got them this year, actually. Very important, you know, you'll understand when you go in for Career Consultations, most real jobs require some OWLs."

"But that will depend on the job, right? My dad says being an Auror is really hard." Parvati added in, having switched seats with Dean so he could talk to Seamus.

"Yes." Percy puffed up, feeling very important. "For being an Auror, you've got to have lots of NEWTs too, those are Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. You've got to be good at everything, Charms and Potions and all of that. Now, if you want to work in Magical Cooperation, on the other hand, you've got to have strong marks in History of Magic, although you have to do well in everything else too, of course."

"There are lots of other classes too, right? Like Divination and all." Hermione asked.

"Of course; there are plenty of other classes. My brother Charlie took Care of Magical Creatures for many years, and now he's in Romania working with dragons. It all depends on what you're interested in." Percy patted Hermione reassuringly.

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. For example, my other brother, Bill, works at Gringotts-did you hear about the break-in, coincidentally?"

"No! What happened?"

"Well, the specific details haven't been released yet, but seeing as I've got a family connection," Percy smiled haughtily, "I can tell you that it seems only one item was stored in the vault, which was thankfully cleared before the thief got in. It was a high security vault too, quite shocking, quite shocking indeed..."

Neville felt horribly bloated. HE had stuffed himself with an excellent treacle tart and now, he felt his eyelids drooping as Percy and Hermione shifted their discussion to the technical aspects of Transfiguration. Hermione, who had already finished the entire Transfiguration textbook, was full of complex unfamiliar questions. It crossed Neville's drowsy mind that only Hermione Granger could have this many questions before she had even actually performed any kind of magic. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

The feast slowly winded down and Dumbledore stood to give a few parting words. The first years were instructed to follow Percy to the Gryffindor Tower. Somehow, though, Neville was forgotten in all the commotion and as the other seven children wandered off after the Gryffindor prefects, he remained asleep, his face precariously close to crashing into a plate of mashed potatoes.

After what seemed like hours, but in reality was only fifteen minutes, Neville was shaken awake. Harry's anxious face stared down at him.

"Neville, come on, we've got to go. The others already left."

The two boys hurried out of the hall after two tall Gryffindor boys, who were joking and flirting with a pretty Ravenclaw fifth year. However, in the crowd of black robes, they quickly lost track of the two boys and within minutes, found themselves in a highly unfamiliar corridor.

They wandered, steadily more and more lost. They were in corridors that were not well-lit and Neville was beginning to feel afraid. The small torches on the walls flickered, producing an eerie shadowy effect. Round and around they wandered, getting steadily more and more lost. Along the way, they began to discover that Hogwarts was a place that was extremely magical.

Several times, they found doors that turned out to be walls. Once, Neville tripped and fell into a wall that turned out to be a door. They found staircases that just ended suddenly, leaving a deadly drop for the unsuspecting, and other stairs that appeared to be going up, but turned out to be going down. The paintings on the walls were of no assistance; most of them were drunk, having visited the portrait of the drunk monks that Harry and Neville had seen earlier. They walked for what seemed like hours, and were no closer to the Gryffindor Tower than they were when they started out.

Neville winced as the legs of his trousers scraped against the cuts on his legs. Harry noticed and grimaced apologetically.

"Sorry about that, by the way. Only Malfoy would have already learned such a nasty jinx, before he had even gotten to school. Don't worry, me and Ron'll get him back somehow." He smiled mischievously.

Neville smiled gratefully. He felt a warm feeling spread up his body; his concern that he would be unable to make friends seemed absurd now, looking back.

"Do you and Ron know each other well?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, pretty well. My mum asks his mum to babysit me a lot, because Mum's always got missions and what not. They don't really know each other well, but they fought You-Know-Who together back in the day."

"Oh." Neville said. He began to say something, but stopped suddenly, as suddenly, from a corridor off the main corridor along which they were walking, they heard an explosion voices and hurried in that direction. As they reached the corridor though, they realized that what they were hearing was not a serious conversation, but an argument.

They ducked behind a large pillar and peeked around a suit of armor, trying to see what was happening, but they were down too low and could only see a nondescript pair of black shoes.

A quiet, hushed voice was apologizing over and over again while a high, clearer voice repeatedly chastised him for his carelessness. Both were clearly male.

"You failed, you idiot, he removed it already! How could you make such an idiotic mistake? Such a basic task. You fool!" The voice screamed furiously.

"I apologize m-my lord." The second, quieter voice responded, with a slight quaver, as though about to cry.

"And him, the other one, he nearly saw me! You incompetent, useless fool!"

The first voice continued to hurl insults as Harry and Neville slowly eased backwards away from the pillar and down the hall. Suddenly, Harry backed up onto Neville's leg, scraping his trouser leg harshly against the open cuts on his leg. Dizzy with the pain, Neville's arm gave out from beneath him and his head banged against the suit of armor behind his head, which promptly fell to the ground with a loud heavy clang that echoed around the empty halls like a gunshot.

The conversation stopped and one of the men began walking toward them. They sat, frozen as the footsteps grew louder and louder.

It isn't much, but I thought I should write something, it being the holidays and all. I'm trying to figure out how to make this story interesting, because you already know who Voldemort's spy is and etc. I'm not sure how this is going to work, so I'm kind of worried. Also, I kind of realized how LONG this could become, depending on how detailed I am with it. Ugh.

In response to the comments you all left for me:

Hi hohoho: Thanks! I hope you keep on reading.

Blayze: Thank you for commenting! I'll do my best to keep updating. I don't think I will completely stop until this whole thing is over, but I may not be able to update weekly, or anything. Right now, I am on Christmas Break, but we'll be going back to school soon :( and I'm not sure what my schedule will be like then. I hope you keep reading, in any case! Also, you should write! I'm sure you've got a lot of great ideas; don't let your laziness bring you down! :)

I hope everybody had an excellent Christmas, and consider this update a gift, if you want.

Happy Holidays and thanks!

gv

ps review if you have good things to say :)