Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, because I'd OWN HARRY POTTER -_-

COUGH. Why hello there, readers c:

Alright, so the important things:
1. This is Harry/Neville, with both slash and hetero side pairings.
2. This isn't my normal writing style, so it might be a smidge awkward. Let me know what you think! (:
3. DEHR, this is AU. This means alot of weird things will be going on, and you will question my sanity, but I ASSURE YOU, everything is here for a reason.
4. Harry is a smartass, so be prepared for bad jokes and sarcasm. He also has a thing about explitives, so GOOD FOR YOU GUYS!

I hope you enjoy! Please review, I really need some feedback ^^

Harry stared at the sign declaring Platform 10 and sighed, dropping his trunk uncerimoniously and taking a seat on it, rubbing his face. He looked around him and tried to spot anyone who might know how to help, and spotted an elderly man in what appeared to be a conductor's uniform hurrying by.

" 'Scuse me!" He called, waving over at the man. He stopped and turned around, looking irritated. "Could you tell me how to get to Platform 9 3/4?"

"I don't have time for your jokes, kid." He snarled, not waiting for explanation as he started off again, leaving a downtrodden Harry to worry over how he was actually going to make it to Hogwarts.

'What if it was all a joke? What if the letter was a lie and I have to go back to Uncle Vernon? Oh, Gosh... I can't go back there... This was supposed to be my chance.'

During his heartbreaking inner monologue, he'd not noticed the bushel of gingers hurrying past, the matriarch of the bunch yelling at an ungodly octave. He sniffled, and heard two pair of feet stop directly in front of him, and wondered if someone had wanted his seat. He had conveniantly forgotten he was seated on his school trunk.

"You alright there, mate?"

"Lookin' a little down, aren't you.."

"Wha's wrong?"

Harry looked up at the voices, just then realizing that they were talking to him. He came face to faces with two redheaded twins, looking as concerned as they had sounded. Harry pondered over whether or not he should tell them, not wanting them to think he was crazy or playing a joke.

"Erm, do you know how to get to Platform 9 and three quarters?" He asked softly, his green eyes shining with ill concealed hope. Fred gulped down at the sight, both twins blushing.

"Yeah, we're going there ourselves!"

"C'mon, mate."

Harry felt a spark of relief that made his hands twitch, and hurried to pick up his things. The twins grinned at him and led him over to a brick wall, an older reheaded woman and a smaller boy about his age in front of it. One of the twins patted his shoulder.

"Just run through that wall, alright? It'll take you straight to the platform. I don't know why it's a bloody wall, most firt years can't find the thing."

"By the way!"

"I'm Fred,

And I'm George!"

Harry looked from the chipper pair to the wall. He was supposed to run through that thing? He'd break his nose! The twins, now known as Fred and George, must've noticed how absolutely not lovin' it he was, because they both leaned in and smiled.

"If you're scared, we'll run through together." Fred whispered.

George nodded. "We were scared, too. Don't be upset."

Of course that was a complete lie. They had grown up with magic. Running through walls? Kitty Pride had no bidniss with them.

By now, the other little boy had run through, and the woman was trying to usher in the twins, not noticing Harry. The brunet let out a long breath and grabbed George's sleeve.

After the three had gotten Harry's luggage into a compartment, the twins had bid him good luck and good day, wanting to go see their friend, Lee. Harry had grinned and bid right back, letting all that had happened in the span of month wash over him.

Harry had recieved a letter on his 11th birthday. This had been quit a shocker, as he never got mail. EVER. Eager to read it, he ran into the kitchen, gave them their mail, and ran back into his little cupboard, ignoring his Aunt's screeches not to jog on her good carpet.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We look forward to seeing you and your classmates on September first, and educating you in the art of magic.

sincerely,
Deputy Headmistress,
Minerva McGonagal

Enclosed is a list of supplies you will need for the year, and the wand you will use for the rest of your life.

Harry had actually nearly fainted. He'd gotten a little woozy and had to sit down. A wizard? There was no way... well, okay, NO, there were so many ways, it was silly. It explained pretty much everything. His affiliation to pretty much everything weird that happened, the unexplainable-now explainable- bouts of power he felt, that time he'd just popped into the girl's bathroom without walking down the two hallways it took to get there. Harry had actually, after his little heartattack, smiled and started laughing. He stood and jumped around and held his pants because he was sure he was going to shit himself. And though there was the possibility that this was a prank, he allowed himself to trust the small feeling in his gut that told him to trust this letter.

"Stop all that racket!"

"Yes, aunt Petunia!"

Afterward, Harry had worried. Like a wart.

You see, he had no money, no transportation, no idea where the poo Diagon Alley was and if it even existted. And if it did, didn't little children like him have bad experiances in alleys? Whatever. So he stole a trunk from Dudley's room and packed the few clothes he had, and waited. On Spetember 1st, he'd gone to his Uncle Vernon and asked for a ridde to the train station. When asked why, Harry said he was getting a job. God knew Vernon liked jobs.

And now Harry was laying blissfully on the most comfortable seat he'd ever given his butt the pleasure of. Which was sad, because the compartment seats were considerably stiff. He stared up at the ceiling, where a little unidentifyable-atleast to him- bug was frolicking around in a bug sort of way, oblivious to everything but it's path. For a moment, he kind of wished he was that bug, not a care in the world, only doing the nessecary things, not having to deal with abusive relatives and-

Ew. Harry was getting kind of contemplative. Besides, he was a wizard now. Things were going to change.

After about 13 minutes of silent peace, his compartment door slid open and he loooked up to see a chubby little boy huffing like he'd just run a marathon. Who knew, maybe he had.

"Have you seen a toad around here? Like, he's about this big, and has this mole on his bum that looks like Rudolphus LeStrange... Anyway, I lost him, have you seen him?"

Harry blinked and it took a moment for his brain to catch up with the words, and then another moment to decide not to correct the boy's grammar, and he shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen a toad. Do you need help-

"Neville!"

Both boys turned toward the voice, Harry sticking his head out of the compartment to see a bushy haired girl hurrying forward with a disgusted look on her face.

"Here's your toad. Try to keep better care of it, because I found him about to get turned into potion ingrediants by a bunch of third years."

Although he was ashamed of himself for it, Harry found himself immediately not liking this girl. There was a distinct holier-than-thou tone in her voice that Harry had heard far too often from his family.

"Thanks, Hermione!" The boy- Neville exclaimed, hugging the poor toad. Harry giggled at the cute sight, and Hermione turned her attention to him, and stuck out her hand.

"I'm Hermione Granger. And you?"

Hesitantly, Harry stuck out his hand and shook hers. "Harry Potter."

Hermione reacted like everyone else he'd ever introduced himself to. She pretended she cared what his name was and went with it. Neville, however, sputtered, dropped his toad, scurried to pick it back up(apologizing to the poor thing several times), and stared wide eyed at him.

"Y-Y-y-you're H-Harry P-P-Potter?" He stuttered out, sitting down in front of Harry. "I-I'm Neville Longbottom. Wow, Harry Potter. I can't believe it!" Suddenly, his face turned completely red and he tried to curl into himself. "I'm sorry."

Harry blinked and backed into his seat, pretending Neville Hadn't said anything. Hermione stared intensely at Harry, trying to figure out what that had been about. Harry, of course, wanted to push her out the door and lock her out.

the rest of the train was spent talking to Neville and ignoring Hermione. Honestly, the girl was getting on Harry's nerves, which was extremely hard if your last name wasn't Dursley. Pretty soon They'd been politely ordered by the bushy haired girl to don their robes. Harry was excited he finally got to push her out of the compartment.

"FIRS' YEARS! OVER 'ERE! FIRS' YEARS!"

Neville and Harry made their way over to the half-giant, and Harry, upon spotting the giant lake of death, promptly turned tail and ran. Hagrid- the giant guy- called after him, but He had seen the twins head this way, and it was probably safer. Much safer.

He turned corner and hit his face on a carriage.

Yup. Safe.

So, it was holding onto the back of a carriage and grinning at his genius that made his way to a giant castle that looked like it'd come from a storybook.

Harry zoned out from there. He blended in with the croud, was led into the great hall, and somehow got pulled down to sit at a huge yellow and purple decked table. He stared up at the ceiling in wonder, taking in a cloudy night sky that for all intense and purposes, shouldn't have been there.

A moment later, the huge doors he'd come through a moment before opened, and a strict looking woman led a gaggle of terrified children into the hall. With a blush, Harry realized he was supposed to be over there, but remained seated. He liked this seat.

Blah blah welcome to Hogwarts blah sorted blah blah like your family blah blah If you will, Professor McGonagal?

What? Harry jerked into awareness as the strict lady stepped up where the elder man had been previously and cleared her throat.

"Abbott, Hannah."

A little blonde girl nervously made her way up to the stool, where a dingy looking hat was placed on her head. A few seconds passed before the entire first year crowd shreiked in surprise when the hat yelled something about a jigglypuff.

One by one, little first years made their way up, and Harry squirmed in his seat. What house would he be in? Did it matter? Why the hell were there houses, anyway? Couldn't it be like a normal school, where the teachers just taught and the students- Oh gosh, they were cliques, weren't they!

Darnit.

"Potter, Harry."

Every head in the hall had snapped their head to look furiously through the remaining first years, trying to spot Harry -why, he had no idea- and were more than surprised when a feminine little thing stood from Ravenclaw and bounced up to the stool. Whispers started up and Harry really wanted to know why the hell everyone was doing that. Then he saw the dark.

Not literally, of course. The Voldy thing wouldn't actually reveal it's entire self until after hols, until then it'd be foreshadowing.

"Ah, already chosen your house, have you?" Harry jumped when he heard the voice, and grimaced when he realized the hat was poking around in his head. "Ooh, like your privacy do you? Well, Just pretend I'm not here."

That was harder than it sounded. He could hear the hat mumbling about his courage being awesome, but not enough for Gryffin-something, and his Cunning being like a snake, but not serpenty enough for this and that. There was his wit and intelligence, but he was too lazy to be studious.

"I haven't a clue where to put you, Mr. Potter. You are, weirdly enough, not fit to be in any of these houses."

"What about that house with the squirrell?"

"It's a badger."

"Whatever. Why can't I go there?"

"...There are some who believe that Hufflepuff is the house of leftovers. Albus is one of these people. He would sew me into a gay scarf if I put you there."

Harry lifted the hat a few inches off of his head and peaked at the table. Everyone currently sitting there seemed really cool, actually. Well, not The Fonz cool, but Harry could work with it. He let the hat drop.

"Yeah, okay. Put me there."

He felt the hat hesitate, but smiled and gave it a little encouraging nudge. It sighed, and took a deep breath.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"