A/N:

There is now a rewrite of this being posted: The Revised Chronicles of Those-Who-Lived.
It has been heavily edited in content and seen by an excellent Beta from Perfect Imagination.

Those- Who- Lived

Chapter One

"Nanna, please stop crying!" Harry begged. He crouched next to his little sister, and gently stroked her hair. "I'll be back for Christmas, I promise! Hogwarts isn't going to be holding me there for anything."

Eleven-year-old Harry Potter was standing on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters with his trunk and owl on a cart behind him and his parents standing nearby. James was smiling ruefully, while Lily plucked seven-year-old Nanna off the ground.

"There now, Nanna, you know he'll be back. And in the meantime, you'll have all the time in the world to spend with me. You'll have to keep me busy, or else I might start missing him too." Lily smiled proudly down at her son, and Harry blushed before glancing around the platform once more. He was waiting impatiently for his friends to arrive, and, after not finding them once more, he gave his mother a smile and turned determinedly to his father.

James Potter was diligently scanning the platform, his Auror uniform on as he was here officially. The ministry was still slightly nervous, despite the ten years since the Death Eaters had just disappeared for no solid reason, and so any Auror seeing their children off to Hogwarts each year was considered 'on duty'. It was a security precaution James supported, and he took it very seriously. However, when his son firmly tugged the hem of his robe, he looked down and smiled brightly.

"Hey squirt, what do you need?"

"My trunk, dad. Can we get it in a compartment now? It doesn't look like Neville's gonna get here yet, so I want to save us a spot."

James smiled and grabbed the cart. "Where do you want to sit?"

"Up at the front."

James grinned and took off at a jog, making Harry yelp and chase after him, easily pulling ahead and swinging himself in. Leaving his dad behind, Harry pulled into the compartment, and then stopped as he found himself facing another boy his age, who looked a lot like himself. Pulling up short, he frowned.

"Who are you?"

The boy was markedly shorter than Harry, and he glared up at him with all the might his small frame could muster. Harry would have been amused had he not looked so very serious about it.

"What? Do you have any manners? Get out of my compartment."

James glanced up past his son and frowned. "Hey, Harry? Is someone in there?"

Harry scowled at the boy, and then turned and walked back out past his dad. "Yeah, there's a kid. He's really rude. Where's another good spot?"

James frowned back at the compartment again, and then smiled at Harry. "The one ahead might be clear."

It was, and James helped Harry pack his stuff up. Once it was all in there, James led Harry back. Halfway there, Harry saw Alice and Frank coming in, and tugged on James hand before taking off running once more. James looked over to see Frank and Alice both in their Auror uniforms, and he quickly moved towards them, as he saw Lily doing as well. They arrived after their son, and found the two of them already making banter. Nanna eagerly demanded to be put down – she wanted to play with Alice's eight-year-old daughter Melanie. James smiled fondly at Harry and Neville, and then led Frank to the compartment Harry had found to add Neville's stuff to Harry's. Neville and Harry themselves were left with Lily and Alice.

"Neville! I got us a compartment, and it's right at the front! And some of the other kids just coming in are rude."

Neville laughed, and playfully pushed Harry back. "You always manage to find rude people, Harry."

"Do not."

"Yes, you do. Where's Ron?"

Harry stood up straight and stared around the Platform. He didn't see a mass of red hair, and frowned. "Not here yet. You looking forward to anyone else?"

Neville made a face. "Draco's going to be here."

Harry scowled. "Not cool. He'll be a shoo-in for Slytherin."

"You're still stuck on Gryffindor?" Neville asked.

"What?" Harry asked. "Of course! I'm not going anywhere else!"

"Okay, okay!" Neville laughed. "Harry Potter, Gryffindor through and through!"

"You better believe it! Hey, it's the Weasleys!" Harry shouted, grabbing his mother's hand and pointing to the red haired family just moving through the barrier. Lily laughed, and she and Alice both waved. Molly glanced up and smiled brightly; Arthur began to move through the crowd towards them, trailed by Percy. Neville made a face; Harry laughed.

Ron quickly pushed forward to run towards his two best friends. He tackled Harry immediately, but, having expected this, Harry managed to keep his feet. Neville took on an announcer's voice.

"All hail Ronald, the tackling champion of 1991!"

Ron made a face, and stood straight. He was easily the tallest of the three, and Harry really thought that unfair. He'd ended up with his mother's small frame and was barely taller than Neville. Neville, however, was stockier than him, Harry being a slight child, much like the boy he'd run into …

"Hey Ron, I ran into this little stick kid earlier. He'd taken the compartment I wanted."

Ron laughed. "Was he smaller than you?"

Harry made a face. "Yes, he was. And he was really rude. Hey, let's go put your stuff away."

Ron nodded and followed as Harry led the way to the compartment he'd claimed, leaving Lily, Molly and Alice locked in conversation and keeping a careful eye on the youngest of their children. Ginny was standing near her mother, looking downtrodden, while Nanna and Melanie were both talking animatedly between each other. Neville's little brother, six-year-old Connor, had been left at home with a sitter, likely Emmeline Vance, whose daughter was Connor's age. All their parents knew each other from an old social group of something, but Harry, Ron, and Neville didn't really care. It was all dealt with now. Why should they worry?

Ronald was packed into their compartment as well, and they all heaved a sigh of relief and went back out for the time until the train had to leave. James ushered them on well before the warning whistle, though, and the families stood outside waiting and watching. Harry stifled the feeling of anxiety in his chest and sighed, slouching in his seat. Neville smiled wanly as well, but Ron seemed too happy to notice. Harry supposed that with such a hectic home, going away to Hogwarts was probably fun. Harry, however, knew he was going to end up missing Nanna something bad. Even if she was annoying …

Around half-past twelve, the witch with the sweets cart came by. Ron smiled, and pushed aside the sandwiches he'd brought as both Neville and Harry bought themselves a fair share of the candy there, and then spread it between them all. Harry grew a little bored of his candy and asked Ron for one of the sandwiches. Ron stared at him a moment.

"You want to eat a sandwich?"

Harry flushed slightly and then determinedly nodded. "I like sandwiches." He stated, and snagged one off the seat. It turned out to be corned beef, and a little dry, but some pumpkin juice fixed that very easily. Neville snickered.

"Harry'll eat about anything. He's only ever picky about his candy."

Indeed, Harry had only bought liquorice wands, chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans, and some Fizzing Whizzbees. He'd left everything else alone. Annoyed at Neville, Harry threw a chocolate frog at him, and snagged another serving of pumpkin juice as he finished off the sandwich.

"And you eat anything you can get your hands on, just like Ron." Harry returned. "You both are so weird."

"Look who's talking, Potter."

All three boys looked out of the compartment and glared at the pale boy standing in the door. Draco Malfoy had apparently decided to make an appearance today, and all three of them stood carefully and glared. Draco sneered.

"I thought you three would all be here together. What are you up to, talking Gryffindor?"

"Please Draco," Harry snapped. "You can do better than that. Everyone knows you're as much of a shoo-in to Slytherin as we all are to Gryffindor. It's really stupid to repeat the same thing."

"Does your dad still do his stupid work today? Keeping an eye on the little kids when everyone knows the ministry's just crazy!"

Neville looked ready to step forward and slug Draco across the jaw, but Harry put his hand on Neville's shoulder and stepped forward. He was visibly angry, but his hands remained by his sides, even as they curled into fists. "And your dad is just wondering what hole to look in to find his own excuse to go back to his old ways, isn't he?" Harry had overheard his father several times when they'd thought him in bed. He'd heard speculation repeated several times that Voldemort was biding his time, and Harry believed it. He also believed his father that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. Draco apparently agreed, as he flushed a dull pink and went for his pocket, presumably his wand. Harry stepped back, his own hand moving to slide over his own Holly and Phoenix feather, the same wand that had made his mother and father pale when they'd heard Ollivander say it was the twin to Voldemort's. Harry hadn't really cared; he'd just been relieved he'd found one after the search had taken so long. It was only a tool, albeit a very special one.

They didn't get much farther than reaching for their individual wands when they both froze as an older student hollered at them down the corridor.

"There is no fighting on the train! Malfoy, get back in your own space and stop bugging Potter! Potter, stop egging him on."

Harry scrunched up his face, but removed his hand from his pocket to shove the door closed in Draco's face. Draco quickly stepped out of the way, stomped his foot, and moved away several steps. However, Harry quickly shot back out when he heard Draco start in on someone else.

"Stop staring, mudblood."

Harry slammed the door open, ready to rip into Draco's scrawny little hide, when he heard whoever was addressed snipe right back,

"At least I'm not some fake blonde inbred bimbo, Malfoy. Go stick your head in someone else's hole!"

Harry was out in the hall in time to see the black-haired boy he'd seen earlier slam his own door in Draco's face once more. Harry stopped where he was, and didn't react when Malfoy told him to mind his own business, the red colour in his cheeks darkening even more. Ron and Neville finally pulled him back in and shut the door as Harry just blinked blankly.

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, I just … don't get it. Or maybe I do. The kid who called Malfoy a fake blonde was that rude kid I'd seen earlier."

Neville laughed. "Rude he is, but he's good at insulting Malfoy. I wonder where he'll end up."

Ron snorted, but Harry frowned. "So long as he's not in Gryffindor with me, I don't think I really care."

Neville shook his head. "I doubt it. I think I pity Malfoy, though; he'll probably end up stuck with him in Slytherin!"

Harry snorted, and then leaned back and smiled. He supposed things would work out all right after all.

They were quiet for a little while until Harry pulled out his Exploding Snap deck. They played, and then Ron got them all excited. "Harry, guess what?"

Harry blinked, and played his turn, before turning back. "No, I don't want to know." He intoned. Ron laughed, played, and shook his head.

"It's from Bill, actually, and was all over the papers. Gringotts was broken into."

Harry slipped up, and pulled quickly out of the way as the hand exploded. After a moment, he stared back at Ron. "What? Who? How? What was taken?"

"Nothing!" Ron exclaimed. "And nothing happened to them either! That's why it's such big news. But Harry, it happened on your birthday!"

Harry shook his head determinedly. "This is getting too weird. Hey, we were in Diagon Alley then, and we saw Hagrid go into the bank. Dad said he was on business from Dumbledore most like …"

Neville and Ron's eyes both glinted in the compartment, and they each grinned. Business from Dumbledore was important indeed, and likely whatever had happened was related. It was a bit of an unspoken agreement. Neville scratched his head.

"My mum was real worried about the papers that day, actually, and although I never looked it was something really big, I'm sure. Dad reassured her Dumbledore had taken care of it …"

Percy Weasley poked his head in and scowled at them, interrupting their discussion of that conspiracy theory. "We're almost there, you know. You should get ready, Ronald, and your little friends." Percy gave Neville and Harry a firm nod and a stern look before pulling back out of the compartment without another word. Ron started mumbling curses against him, but Harry and Neville just laughed it off, and pulled on their robes, stuffing their pockets with the last of the candy, Harry hoarding his favourites as Ron and Neville laughed. Harry merely stuck out his tongue, and stalked into the corridor to join the rest of the throng. Directly behind him, however, was the dark little boy and beside him was a bushy-haired witch with a very excited expression, and large front teeth. He seemed to be listening to her with slightly disdainful amusement, but she didn't seem to notice, instead continuing on a long spiel that Harry finally decided was indicative that she was quite muggle-born. They were apparently discussing the houses and their prospects.

"-I heard that Ravenclaw is for those in the school who are really into learning, but I personally want to end up in Gryffindor. I heard Albus Dumbledore was in that house myself, actually, and he also taught Transfiguration before he was Headmaster."

"I'd heard that." The boy allowed. "However, I think I'm going to end up in Slytherin." The girl gave a short gasp, and the boy snorted. "Don't believe everything you read. Besides, just because you're in a house doesn't change who you are. I think I'd like to keep talking to you no matter where we end up." His tone sounded politely interested. Harry thought he sounded fake, but the girl beamed.

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes to Ron and Neville, who started laughing quietly. A huff behind them made them look, and he found the girl looking down on him. This was infuriating, as she was indeed, barely taller than him, about as much taller as the other boy was shorter. Ignoring his wish for more height, Harry smiled gently at the girl and politely offered his hand. "Harry Potter. Am I correct to guess that you're muggleborn? My mother is."

The girl smiled carefully at him and accepted his handshake. "Yes, I'm muggleborn. I'm Hermione Granger, and this boy is …" She stopped as he gently pushed her and shook his head, giving Harry a slightly dirty look. Hermione looked trapped, but then she just squared her shoulders and shrugged. "I suppose he'll tell you himself if he wants. It's good to meet you. Are your parents the Potters, your father James Potter the decorated Auror?"

Harry smiled proudly and nodded. His father had received an Order of Merlin, first-class, when peace had been tentatively declared. His mother and godfather, Sirius Black, had received the same award, only his mother's was second-class. Hermione looked ready to start on a long rant about how much she knew, and so Harry made a point of introducing Neville and Ron as well. Hermione knew of Frank and Alice as well, and their Order of Merlin, second-class, awards, and she looked apologetic that she didn't know as much about Ron. However, they were shortly bumped outside as the train stopped, and Harry lost her and the boy as they made their way over to the ever-cheerful Hagrid.

The trip to Hogwarts was expected, and Harry only ran into the boy once. A tall black boy joined Harry, Ron, and Neville in their boat and introduced himself as Dean Thomas. They then stood near the front of the room Professor McGonagall lead them too, and followed her into the Great Hall at the front of the line. Harry was rather determinedly not thinking about what the sorting might include, as Sirius had several times hinted that it was hard, and his mother had made an off-hand comment about it being nerve-wracking. Neither was exactly comforting. Thus, Harry was a nervous as the rest of them when McGonagall set the hat on a stool in front of them. When it moved to sing, he jumped.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind
Where those of wit and learning
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a thinking cap!"

Harry was silently stunned as the rest of the school started clapping, before he joined in weakly. McGonagall cleared her throat and began.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted. Abbot, Hannah."

Harry heaved a short sigh of relief, and listened to the sorting with only half an ear. He noted Hermione Granger went into Gryffindor, as did Neville. Malfoy barely spent a moment under the hat before he became a Slytherin. However, Harry felt mildly ill as his name was called, to the same awed looks Neville had gotten. He ignored them; he had always been looked at in the light of his parents. It was mildly annoying, but unavoidable.

The hat slid onto his head with ease, and fell down over his eyes. Harry stifled his irritation, but jumped when a voice began whispering into his ear.

"My oh my, the second special boy. You and Longbottom are much alike, but you're less happy with what you have. You want to be known for who you are, and not your parents. There's a place for boys like you, now –"

'No! I'm not going into Slytherin!' Harry furiously thought at the hat. 'I'm no Slytherin!'

Harry could tell the hat was put out. "That's not really fair, you know. You children need to go where you belong. However, I don't suppose you'd do best in a house you hated. I'm very disappointed, though. The houses should not be so divided, and you would do well in bridging that gap …"

Desperate, Harry asked, 'Anything! I'll do anything to not be put there!'

"Anything? Well then, I know the list of students better than Minnie, and I know something you don't about the next boy … if you promise to make friends with him at some point, I think I can honour your choice …"

'Sure, I'll make friends with him if he wants.' Harry agreed. He knew that would likely make it easy to avoid it, as he couldn't be resorted afterwards and the kid probably wouldn't want to make friends anyways.

The hat sighed gustily, and resigned, he continued. "Mind you, Potter, always remember, your house should have been Slytherin, but for you, I'll place you in Gryffindor!"

The word echoed in the hall, and the Great Hall roared with cheers. Harry shakily pulled off the hat and hurried to take his place next to Neville and the Weasley twins, before, curious, looking back at McGonagall to see who the next boy was.

"Prince, Alan."

Harry felt his stomach drop as the rude, dark-haired small boy stepped forward and put on the hat. It covered his entire face, and remained there for only a minute or two before it straightened, and announced with conviction that Harry felt was mocking him, "Slytherin!"

The boy stood and set the hat back down and his eyes scanned the room. He found Harry and locked eyes with him, and Harry felt his stomach drop again. Alan Prince did not like him. And Harry couldn't help but feel that he returned the sentiment, with interest.

Here is the first chapter of Those- Who- Lived. I will post all chapters until first year is done, as they are all finished, and will post each after either a set time of about a month, or after I get five reviews for this. Once second year is done, I'll begin posting that, and so on and so forth for each year.

So if you want to see an update, please review!

A/N: July 2008: Just as a potential note, first and second year are prime for a rewrite once I get done. So please keep reading! The time between now and then has improved my writing greatly, so fourth year and up are much better.

A/N: Jan 2011: Said rewrite is now being posted: The Revised Chronicles of Those-Who-Lived.

Fire & Napalm