Hello! I've decided to take up challenges to get rid of my laziness. To anyone following any of my other stories, I'm really sorry. I don't have any excuses. I do want to finish at least one of my multichapters, but it may take a while.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the Harry Potter Universe, except on my book shelf and as DVDs.

A/N: I quoted parts of this (and will probably continue to do so) directly from the book. I didn't highlight them though because to me, it just ruins the flow of a story. Enjoy reading :)

A/N2: This is an edited version of chapter 1 with more details making up over 2000 words more than the first version. Feel free to skip the parts you've read. Also, as stated in the summary, this is mostly canon and n ot necessarily in chronological order.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced girl Harry had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He could barely see her eyes under the long fringe that hung over them but she looked tearful.

"I'm sorry." she said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, she hiccuped, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

Harry felt bad for her while Ron looked at her with raised eyebrows, his thoughts of why anyone would want a toad as pet, never mind miss it, displayed clearly on his face.

"He'll turn up." Harry reassured her.

"Yes." said the girl, still miserable, "Well, if you see him…"

She turned to leave. Without being able to explain why, Harry's heart sank. The girl's shoulders were hunched under her baggy jumper, making her look sad and lonely. He could empathise only too well. Trading a look with Ron who shrugged, he called out.

"Wait!"

She froze and slowly turned around, shoulders pulled even higher than before. Her eyes were wide and he could finally see what their colour was, some sort of blue-green-gray. She looked like a frightened mouse backed into the corner of their compartment. Harry smiled at her in what he hoped was a welcoming manner. "What's your name?"

She shrank back further against the apartment wall.

"E-Evangeline." she stuttered slightly, bewildered. Harry stood and reached out his hand.

"I'm Harry." he said. Evangeline looked down at his hand dubiously but took it nonetheless. She looked up at his face and finally, his forehead. Her mouth formed a silent 'o'. She let go of his hand.

"You're H-Harry P-Potter?"

Harry's smile turned awkward. This was still new to him after all.

"Yeah." he laughed a little uncomfortably. Harry turned to Ron and nodded in the girl's direction. Ron looked at him uncomprehendingly then suddenly jumped.

"'m Ron, Weasley." he quickly mumbled, sticking out his hand which Evangeline shook as well. The compartment fell silent.

Evangeline began to turn when Harry stopped her again.

"You can sit with us, if you want." he offered. She looked at him in surprise and then at Ron, who seemed just as surprised. Ron gave a slightly awkward smile but nodded at Harry's look. Evangeline smiled a little.

"Really?" she asked, unsure and Harry nodded. Her smile turned bright. "I-I'll just get my things."

And with that, she was gone.

The two boys turned toward each other.

"Well." Ron said. Harry shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, but she looked so sad."

"It's alright." Ron said. He inspected an opened packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and then put it down with a grin. "Don't know why she's so bothered about that toad though, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers so I can't talk."

They both looked down at the rat which was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference." said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glittering at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway -"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. It was a girl in new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Evangeline's lost one." she said. She had a bossy sort of voice and rather large front teeth. They both shook their heads.

"We've already told her we haven't seen it." said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down beside him. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er - alright."

He cleared his throat when a timid knock on the compartment door sounded and slid open once more. Evangeline peeked inside, eyes widening at the sight of Ron raising his wand and noticing everyone looking at her. She quickly slipped inside and closed the door, standing there awkwardly with an old-fashioned suitcase in hand.

"Sorry, I-I didn't mean to interrupt." she stuttered. Ron simply looked even more uncomfortable and Hermione shot her smile. Harry smiled as well, patting the space beside him which had stayed miraculously free of candy wrappers and sweets.

"Come on, sit down." he said. Evangeline smiled back and gladly sat, her suitcase beside her. Then she turned curious eyes on Ron who was still holding up his wand.

He cleared his throat again, eyes flicking toward the new girl who raised her eyebrows.

"Go on then."

"Right - well." he said, pointing his wand at Scabbers.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well it's not very good, is it?"

The girl launched into an explanation of her successful spells, her muggle heritage and generally how fascinated she was with the subject of Hogwarts. Apparently she had already read all their school books in her eagerness. She said all this very fast, finishing with her name. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

The other three in the compartment shared equal looks of surprise; they obviously hadn't learned all of their books off by heart either. Harry and Ron quickly mumbled their introductions and after a short, one-sided discussion about Harry's fame in the wizarding world and the different Houses of Hogwarts, Hermione left.

The other three stayed stunned silence for a bit, Evangeline smiling slightly.

"She's nice." she said, reddening under the boys' disbelieving looks. She quickly added, "She helped me look for Trevor."

"Yeah, I guess." Ron paused, then looked down at the small pile of chocolate frogs still left. He picked one up and held it out to her. "You don't collect chocolate frogs, by any chance, do you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.

'Not Slytherin, eh?' said the small voice. 'Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!'

Harry felt a great sense of relief wash over him. He took off the hat and shakily walked toward the Gryffindor table where he quickly found Evangeline. They exchanged relieved smiles; they had both been feeling rather insecure about which House they could have been put in. At least now they had each other as allies in the same House, even if Ron didn't make it. That thought, however, was quickly discarded when Ron was also sorted into Gryffindor a little while later. He sat down beside Harry and grinned at him, the scowled at Hermione who coincidentally sat opposite him. Before he could say anything though, his two older twin brothers bound over to them, grinning brightly. They congratulated their 'little-ickle Ronnykins' on becoming a Gryffindor by ruffling his hair and whooped in victory at Harry's sorting ("We've got Potter! We've got Potter!"). When Ron apologised to Harry and Evangeline for his 'idiot brothers' behaviour they pounced on her as well, exclaiming how their little brother was growing up and already had a girlfriend ("She can be our new pet, what do you think?" "Just what I was thinking! How about 'Neve'?" Thus they called her that and it stuck). Headmaster Dumbledore put a stop to all the talking as he stood up and held a short and confusing welcome speech. Then he sat down again with a mysterious smile on his face, the House tables and staff table filled with incredible amounts of food. Among all the first years' wonder, the whole Hall began to eat and burst into excited chatter.

The new students excitedly swapped stories. They met their respective House ghosts ("How can you be nearly headless?" Hermione sceptically asked theirs. Nearly Headless Nick proceeded to show them exactly how and the expected groans of disgust followed; he looked very pleased with himself) and got to know each other's backgrounds better during dessert ("I'm half and half." Seamus explained, telling them an anecdote of how his muggle father discovered his wife was a witch after their marriage. "Bit of a nasty shock for him." They all laughed). Ron asked Neve about her background; even though she had sat with him and Harry on the train, it had never come up.

"Well, my gran brought me up. She's a witch." Neve started, voice going a little quiet when she noticed the everyone's eyes on her. "My family thought I was a Squib."

Harry was just about to ask what that meant when Seamus beat him to it.

"What's a squib?"

"A non-magical child whose parents can both do magic." Hermione tuned in, pleased to see her pre-school reading was already paying off. Ron rolled his eyes but Harry smiled in thanks and Seamus nodded. Neve continued, a faint blush creeping up her neck at her blunder. But she had definitely opened up a little more compared to how she had been at the beginning of the train ride. "My great-uncle Algie kept trying to force some magic out of me through shock - he once pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier and I nearly drowned -" Ron looked scandalised at that and Seamus' mouth dropped open " - but nothing happened until I was eight. Uncle Algie came around for tea and was hanging me out of an upstairs window by one hand when Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced all the way down the garden and into the road." Neve's voice held a note of pride in it even if her story sounded strange to the others. She smiled. "Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I didn't have enough magic to get into Hogwarts, you see. Uncle was so pleased he bought me a toad."

Neve held up Trevor from her lap, grinning widely. Her Uncle Algie obviously meant a lot to her. Harry glanced at Hermione beside him to see what her reaction to Neve's story was since she had said her whole family were muggles - but she seemed to be too engrossed in her discussion with Ron's older brother Percy about school to pay much attention to anything else. Harry soon became drowsy from all the delicious food he had eaten; he couldn't remember a time he had been allowed to simply eat until he was completely stuffed. It was at this point that Harry let his attention drift, letting his gaze settle on the teacher's table. He recognised Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall talking to each other and Hagrid who was drinking from his goblet, Catching his eyes, the giant of a man waved at him. Harry returned the wave and smiled, then glanced at the rest of the table where he saw Professor Quirrell from Diagon Alley talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. The black-haired teacher must've felt him looking because the next moment he was staring directly at Harry. A sudden, sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on his forehead shook him to wakefulness.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped his hand to his forehead, grimacing. Ron, who had just been about to respond to Seamus with a sarcastic comment, noticed. He swallowed, shooting him a worried look.

"You okay, mate?" he asked. Harry nodded absentmindedly. The teacher had looked away as soon as he had felt the pain.

"Yeah." he said. "You wouldn't happen to know who that is, do you?"

He pointed at the teacher in question and Ron's eyes followed where his finger pointed. He frowned.

"You mean the greasy git?" Fred chimed in from Harry's right. He nodded.

"That's Snape." George said. "That's Quirrell beside him. Poor bastard's probably being terrorised by him."

"Snape's teaching Potions but everyone knows he really wants Quirrell's job." Fred added. Harry traded a wide-eyed look with Ron, then turned to watch Snape. He didn't look over again.

At some point, the desserts disappeared and the Headmaster stood to talk about something called Quidditch, warn them about a forest on school grounds and a couple of warnings, one of which sounded very cryptic.

"What do you suppose is on the third floor?" Ron murmured as they got up. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know." he said, curiosity seeping into his voice.

The House Prefects led their first years to their dormitories. On the way there, they encountered their first Poltergeist, Peeves. He was a small but evil looking man and Harry noticed Evangeline shrinking back into her shell in fright. He quickly squeezed her shoulder and smiled when she looked up at him. She relaxed slightly and timidly smiled back.

After their Prefect Percy had gotten rid of Peeves, they continued onwards and finally stopped in front of a portrait of a fat lady. The password 'Caput Draconis' caused her to swing aside and reveal an entrance in the solid looking wall. Inside, they discovered the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room filled with squashy armchairs and two-seat sofas as well as a huge fireplace. Two doors led to the girls' and boys' dormitories and Harry, Ron and Evangeline wished each other a good night before going their ways. Harry glanced back to where Evangeline disappeared through the dorm door with Hermione animatedly talking to her. Evangeline seemed a bit shy but nice. He was glad she didn't seem to be so sad and lonely anymore. Harry turned back and smiled as he followed Ron into their dormitory; already he felt like Hogwarts was his home.

The first morning found Harry sitting in the Headmaster's office. Percy, the Gryffindor prefect, had taken him here after breakfast upon Dumbledore's request. Harry had worried about not being on time his first day in school, but figured if the Headmaster wanted to talk to him he couldn't refuse. And so he was sitting opposite this strange man with long white hair and beard and eyes that were much too happy this early in the day.

When he first started speaking, Harry was simply relieved that at least he wasn't in trouble, never mind that he couldn't recall having done anything wrong. However, after listening to what Dumbledore was saying, that relief quickly faded. Harry had the vague impression he was experiencing some kind of culture shock.

He stared across the desk at the Headmaster whose intertwined fingers supported his chin.

"Excuse me?" he was finally able to formulate. Dumbledore looked grave and sad.

"I am sorry, my dear boy. But now that you know the truth about your parents' passing," Harry swallowed down a sudden lump in his throat, "you must know the whole truth about the Potter family."

"The whole truth?" Harry parroted. Not only had he learned that magic actually existed - his parents had been wizards and he was one too! And all of this in the time span of just over a month.

And now he was supposed to be the sole heir to the Potter legacy which were part of wizarding nobility, a part of the wizarding society called Purebloods? What did that even mean? And what was he expected to do with that knowledge? He must have asked a question out loud because Dumbledore seemed to be answering it.

"That, my boy, is a topic too complex to explain. You see, a Pureblood is a witch or wizard who have no trace of muggleblood." At Harry's uncomprehending stare, he elaborated. "As you know, witches and wizards do not always have parents who are both of magical descent or even any." Harry thought of Seamus and Hermione and nodded. "Purebloods are those who can trace their bloodline back many generations and only find ancestors whose parents were both magical. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded again and then opened his mouth to ask a question.

"But what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, strictly speaking you are not a Pureblood, because your mother's parents were non-magical. However, because you are the only living heir of the pureblooded Potter family, you are the Head of the Potter family and automatically inherit all the titles and responsibilities associated with it."

"But what responsibilities?" Harry blurted, already beginning to feel panicked at what Dumbledore had just told him. He was just an 11-year old boy, for goodness' sake! One who hadn't even known about his magical abilities until recently. And now he was expected to… do what exactly?

"That usually differs slightly from family to family. However, we do offer a subject compulsory for every pureblooded student here unless their family specifies no instruction; it becomes an optional elective for any other student from third year onwards. Witches' and Wizards' Instruction in Traditions, Customs and Heritage (or for short, W.I.T.C.H.) teaches precisely the customs and traditions of Pureblood society, among other things. You have the option of choosing it, I will not force you to; however, I do recommend you do. It unfortunately will not teach you all you need to know -"

"I'll take the class." Harry quickly said, not even noticing that he had interrupted him. He may be only a boy, but he bore the name Potter. And if the responsibilities that came with it (and if he could learn more about his parents) were so important to the legacy his parents had left him, it was the least he could do to honour them.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly at the thought-absorbed boy over his half-moon spectacles. His heart was heavy with having to put this much pressure on the shoulders of such a young boy, but sooner or later he would have to face the reality of what it meant to be the heir to a family such as the Potters. He would rather have him ill-prepared than completely clueless.

"Then you will receive your new timetable tomorrow morning. For such an important matter, an exception can be made." Dumbledore paused. "However, there is one more matter I have to discuss with you. You see, Pureblood children usually have already received some kind of education on what it means to be a Pureblood before they come to Hogwarts. Therefore, you will have a tutor to teach you the basics of what you need to know."

"So who will be tutoring me?" Harry was almost afraid to ask. He just hoped it wasn't one of Malfoy's posse, if it was a Slytherin.

Just then there was a knock on the door.

"Enter." Dumbledore called, smiling. The door opened with a slight whine and a familiar figure entered, or better, tripped inside the room. She righted herself with a furious blush on her face, eyes hidden by a long fringe and the long, ash blonde braid twirling around her hand nervously.

"You wished to speak to me, Professor Dumbledore?" Neve asked, those unusual colour eyes flicking to Harry nervously.

Dumbledore gestured for her to sit next to Harry and nodded.

"Indeed I did."

That afternoon, after classes and before dinner, Neve joined Harry and Ron in the common room. Ron looked up in surprise but shrugged, waving at her in greeting and went back to leafing through a magazine. Harry sat up from where he was lounging in the armchair in front of the fireplace and smiled at her.

"Is something the matter?"

"Well…" she slowly said, searching for the words. She sighed. Harry looked at her questioningly. "I don't really know how to teach you, to be honest. I've never tutored anyone before."

"Tutoring in what? It's only the first day." Ron put in absentmindedly.

"Remember how I told you about what Dumbledore talked to me this morning? Neve is my tutor for it." Harry reminded Ron who nodded as he remembered.

"Right, I know. Mum and Dad didn't want us to take W.I.T.C.H. Said it was no good for decent folks since all it teaches is old-fashioned Pureblood stuff." At Neve's downtrodden expression and Harry's slight shake of his head, he hastily added, "No offence. I'm sure it's really interesting."

Neve gave a small smile.

"N-no, I think you're right. I-I mean, I'm taking it because my grandmother thinks it's important…" she trailed off. Neve quickly shook her head, ducking it apologetically. "A-anyway… I guess, I could take notes for you and share my books with you, if you want? Until you get your own at least."

"Sounds good." Harry smiled. Neve returned it shyly and Ron closed his magazine in final looking gesture. He rubbed his stomach with a large grin and looked at the other two.

"So how about going down to dinner?"

To Harry's delight, all the first year Gryffindors had their classes together, meaning he could get to know his new friends better. Unfortunately it also meant that he was in the middle of Ron's and Hermione's squabbling. Neve, who often joined them, and Harry, by silent agreement, usually said nothing when that happened, occasionally trying to break them up but since they would not be able to end their arguments anyway they eventually learned to not get in between. However, it never seemed serious and everything was just so new and fascinating to Harry that he got swept up in his new life. For the first time in his life he had friends, people who genuinely cared about him and he about them. He was learning things and was part of a world he hadn't even known existed; even the most simple of magics were awe-inspiring to him, such as the first spell they learned, Wingardium Leviosa. Hermione clearly shared his enthusiasm, being muggleborn and not familiar with much magic either, though she was clearly gifted. This was probably the main reason why Ron rather disliked her; Neve, however, asked her for help whenever she needed it and that happened very frequently. Hermione always provided it happily; sometimes Harry caught her sneaking longing glances at the three of them and he couldn't help thinking that she was lonely. According to Neve, when Harry once asked, Hermione was on speaking terms with most of their dorm mates but not particularly close to any of them. Harry felt bad for her and didn't even mind her that much; it was Ron,, one of his first best friends, he was worried about losing if he included her in their little group.

But so far, every good thing that had happened to him was accompanied by a bad side effect and so it was this time as well. Even Neve and Hermione, who both seemed to be open-minded and non-judgemental, agreed with Harry and Ron that Potions and Flying lessons with the Slytherins were the worst. The boys had already taken a dislike to Potions in their first lesson; it was taught by Professor Snape, the teacher who Harry had already noticed staring at him during the welcome feast in the beginning of the year. Back then, the great hooked nose, long black hair and dark eyes had already seemed menacing enough; but during Potions Snape was downright hostile. It didn't help that he clearly favoured his own House and made the Gryffindors his personal verbal punching bags, or that he was obviously targeting Harry out of some personal grudge he was holding. That already was enough to get Harry seething but what made him even angrier was the bullying Neve had to endure on hands of the Potions master and the other Slytherins; having been bullied himself, he felt a sort of kinship with her. Neve's fear of Snape he could understand; his permanent bad mood coupled with his appearance and billowing black cape which made him look like a giant bat made for an intimidating picture. It was even worse when directed at one single person. But the Slytherin students bullied her because of her clumsiness which only made her fear and nervousness during Potions increase, causing her to keep giving wrong answers when called on and melting her cauldron more than once. It made Harry feel angry on her behalf but also helpless; Snape clearly turned blind and deaf if it came to the Slytherins misbehaving. However, as much as his dislike for Snape grew (and Harry was sure the feeling was mutual), the stabbing pain in his forehead didn't happen in his presence again.

Flying lessons were different; both him and Ron enjoyed them and the sense of freedom flying brought them. Hermione and Neve didn't; the former because it was something instinctual which you couldn't learn, the latter because she already had her fair share of accidents with solid ground under her feet, never mind what being in midair would do to her appalling sense of coordination. As predicted, Neve came out of their first lesson (a Friday to boot) with a broken wrist; as she was led away by their teacher Madam Hooch, Harry had to suppress the urge to run after her. His worry for her quickly turned into anger, though, when Malfoy snatched a gift off the ground which Neve had dropped. She had received it just that morning from home, a so-called Remembrall.

Harry's eventually successful attempt to get it back for her resulted in a miracle: their Head of the House, Professor McGonagall, ended up making him the Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"'The youngest Seeker in a century', she said." Harry told Ron and Neve enthusiastically during dinner, trying to ignore the guilty twinge at the sight of her bandaged right wrist. The three of them had picked Neve up from the hospital wing after class where Madame Pomfrey had to let her heal the non-magical way as she had run out of potion and the break was too complicated for her to heal with a spell. She dismissed them with strict orders to keep the wrist still and promised to administer Neve a healing potion as soon as she had new ones in. Harry had given her the Remembrall on the way to dinner; she had taken it back with a shy thank you.

Neve, who sitting beside Hermione and opposite the boys, smiled at the news, quietly congratulating Harry. Ron was even more excited than him, but according to him Quidditch was the best game in existence. Hermione was the only one frowning.

"That's all well and good, but you still disobeyed a teacher and probably broke a few school rules to boot. You really should have been more cautious, Harry." she reprimanded. Ron rolled his eyes in irritation and Neve looked conflicted, gaze flitting between the girl and the two boys. Harry didn't quite know what to say; he knew she was right but everything had ended well or not? As he was struggling to come up with a response, the Weasley twins joined their conversation.

"Oh, what's life without a little rule-breaking?" they chorused. They appeared on either side of where Ron and Harry sat, grinning at the bushy-haired, indignant girl. They turned to Harry, patting his shoulders. "Well done, Harry! Welcome to the team!"

"They're the Beaters." Ron explained when Harry stared in surprise.

"We sure are. And with you on the team as well -" Fred started.

"- we could actually win the Quidditch Cup this year!" George finished enthusiastically. Fred continued. "Yeah, old Snape's been grinning way too much lately."

"That Cup deserves better than those dingy old dungeons." George added.

They told him stories of past Quidditch matches in enthusiastic detail until Harry was itching to be on a broomstick and zooming through the air.

Neve's first tutoring session with Harry was on their first Saturday at Hogwarts. They had agreed that this was a good day as Sunday seemed to be the unofficial 'fun-day' for most students. Neve had also asked if it could be more of an all-around study day and if Hermione could join. Harry hadn't minded; he had asked Ron if he wanted to come but he had declined in order to sleep in. He had said he might join them later. The three of them went to the library as soon as they were done with breakfast, Harry wondering if W.I.T.C.H. was as interesting as his other subjects. After passing Madam Pince's inspection of their bags, they found an empty table. Unsurprisingly, the library was very empty. After unpacking their things, Neve pulled out a piece of parchment on which she had written a sort of checklist. Harry pulled it closer, admiring the penmanship; it looked closer to calligraphy than anything written by a school student. Hermione was obviously interested as well; she kept trying to glance over his shoulder at the list while at the same time keeping an eye on their Transfiguration essay. Judging by Neve's guilty look she had done as much of it as him.

"W.I.T.C.H only starts next week, so you at least don't have to catch up on any lessons. But there's still a lot of other stuff; I wrote down what we're expected to know by now." Neve started a little nervously, looking back at her list and twisting the end of her braid around her finger. Harry noticed she did that a lot. She continued, "Most of us are able to speak three or four foreign languages by the time we become adults; the most common ones are Latin, French, Italian, Spanish, German and Russian. By now, we are expected to know one foreign language and start another in W.I.T.C.H. Instead of after-school clubs, we have lessons."

Neve stopped at the wide-eyed stare Harry Hermione traded; she had given up all pretense of writing the essay and was listening attentively.

"That's a lot to learn." he said weakly after a moment. "And isn't W.I.T.C.H. a subject in the regular timetable?"

"Yes. But because there is so much to learn, we have to attend after-school classes as well." Neve explained, a little calmer now. She had stopped twirling her braid. She looked at him a little worriedly as he frowned down at the list in his hand. "I'll just quickly finish telling you what the basics are, alright?" At his nod, she continued, "We're expected to know social dances like ballroom and need to play at least one musical instrument. Oh, and we need to learn proper Pureblood etiquette, like for social situations."

Harry looked up in faint amusement when she stopped.

"What, that's it?" he asked in a joking manner. "No more surprises like the languages?"

"Well…"

"Oh, no." Harry quietly groaned, stopping when he saw Neve's crestfallen face. Hermione looked at him a disapprovingly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it. Go on."

"Are you sure? You could just pick something off the list." Neve offered quietly.

"It's alright, Neve. I'm sure he can handle it. As for me, I find this fascinating. I wish I could do W.I.T.C.H as well." Hermione reassured her. Harry laughed a bit and nodded. He gestured for her to continue and she smiled. "You'll also need to learn hand-to-hand combat and duelling at some point."

"Duelling with magic?" Harry asked a little too eagerly. He had never been keen on violence, but if he could defend himself from bullies and use magic to do it, he was all for it. Hermione rolled her eyes, determined now to finish her essay.

"Yes. I can't teach you that, though." Neve added, feeling bad at the disappointment on his face.

"Why not?"

"According to old traditions, it's 'not ladylike'." Neve could barely suppress her eye roll; according to her grandmother, that was not ladylike either. It was a good thing she didn't know about the sort of 'un-ladylike' things her Uncle Algie taught her. She liked Uncle Algie. Harry frowned.

"But what if you got attacked when you're by yourself?" Hermione asked very logically, rejoining the subject. Neve shrugged helplessly.

"Is there anything on the list you're feel familiar with? Something you might find easier to do than other things?" she asked instead of answering. Harry's hopeless look at her list was enough but just as she was about to suggest something, he looked up with a question in his eyes.

"Maybe you could explain to me what it exactly means, to be a Pureblood? Dumbledore told me about the whole Halfblood and Muggleblood thing with the parentage, but is it really that important? Why isn't it just magical and non-magical?"

Neve fidgeted a little. Of course she knew; she was part of it. But that didn't mean she had to like it. Hermione was once again looking very interested as well; after all, she knew about as much about this as Harry did.

"The difference in terms comes from a long time ago. They really shouldn't mean anything anymore or be used at all." Neve explained quietly. "Back when magic was freely accepted and even admired, we had nothing to be scared of. It didn't matter if we were muggleborn, pure - or halfblooded. We co-existed with muggles, respected each other, had our freedom and married who we loved; our magic often gave us certain privileges. But when the church began to hunt us down, we needed to hide. We decided to separate our world from the muggles' for our own protection and that it was safer to stick to our own people. We began to only marry each other, to become stronger and better able to protect each other. Of course, there have always been those who didn't care and still married for love, not survival. That's where the whole differentiating comes in. Purebloods are those who married for survival; for us, it became tradition and simply stayed the way it's been for centuries. There are families who believe," Neve swallowed down her irritation and forced herself to continue, " that being a Pureblood makes us better, more valuable and cleverer than others."

"That's not true!" Harry protested, glancing at Hermione. She had gone white, her lips pressed together in a tight line. Her eyes shone in outrage. Madam Pince shushed at them furiously from behind a bookshelf she was dusting beside their table. He lowered his voice. "You know, that's a lie, Neve."

"Yeah. But that doesn't make that belief go away." she replied in thinly veiled disgust. She paused, chewing her lip and looked at them. They were tense. "Should I explain Halfbloods and Muggleborns too?" After a short pause, he nodded. Neve continued, "Halfbloods are those who come from a marriage between a muggle and a witch or wizard, who may be half - or pureblooded, or even muggleborn. Muggleborns," here she glanced at Hermione who had stiffened a little, " are those witches and wizards whose parents are both non-magical. There are theories though, that say that most muggleborns do have magic in their blood; it's just from so long ago, that the family doesn't remember and not enough magic is there to make sure all descendants are magical. Some say it's a mutation."

Harry frowned; Hermione looked intrigued, her anger forgotten.

"I think I prefer to just see all witches and wizards as equal." Harry finally said after a long silence. Hermione nodded passionately and Neve smiled.

"Me too."

There was a short pause in which they hung after their own thoughts. Hermione quickly scribbled something onto her essay paper, then laid her quill down.

"Well, then. Have you done your Transfiguration essays yet?" she asked brightly. "I can help you if you like. Or did you want to do Potions first?"

Both Harry and Neve gave twin groans at the mention of either. Hermione fought to keep a stern face but ended up grinning.

"How about I let you read my essay and you take notes? You can start on yours and I can proof read them when you're done."

It was obvious she thought she was being generous but Harry couldn't help but feel a twitch of irritation. But he really did need her help, for Potions at least. Neve had already taken up her offer and was taking notes on her own piece of parchment. Harry smiled at Hermione even though it was a little forced.

"I think I'll be doing Potion notes first."

"Yes, I'll do that too. I know he said two rolls of parchment, but there's just so much…" Hermione trailed off worriedly and Harry quickly opened his Potions book to hide his exasperation. He really hoped Ron would turn up sooner rather than later.

The next day after his first Quidditch practise, Harry was called into McGonagall's office. He hoped she didn't expect him to look very presentable; after all, he had just spent a good portion of the day in midair on a broom. Harry already knew that he loved to fly; but the broom he had been given reminded of an elderly person - slow to react to his movements, insecure and hard to control. At least he hadn't fallen off yet. As Harry was standing in front of McGonagall's office and tugged at his already unruly and now windswept hair, he wondered if being called by teachers would be a regular occurrence before he knocked.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" he asked politely after stepping inside. A long, brown paper wrapped package lay on her desk. She smiled and stood, coming around.

"Yes. I apologise for calling on you on the weekend, but this is not strictly a school matter and will not take long." she said, turning back to the desk and taking the package. She then offered it to him. "I do believe you will be needing this at Quidditch practise. I hope it serves you well."

After a cautious look at his teacher's face, Harry carefully took it and unwrapped it. He gaped at what was inside.

The same broom he had been admiring in Diagon Alley not so long ago.

"Thank you, Professor." he whispered reverently, his fingers skimming across the sleek, smooth handle, admiring the texture and glossy finish.

Professor McGonagall smiled a little sadly at the boy who was now examining the tail of the broom, not even the tiniest twig out of place. It was moments like these when his upbringing was the most obvious; of a neglected boy, never having known the kindnesses of a loving family. She caught herself becoming sentimental, thinking back to when she had been a new teacher and her first students being a particular boy looking like Harry and having a penchant for danger and an intelligent, kind redhead. McGonagall silently reprimanded herself and pulled herself back to the present.

"You may go now, Mr Potter." she said to still fascinated boy. He looked up and gave her a heartfelt smile. He nodded and turned toward the door, turning before he left and opening and closing his mouth, not knowing what to say.

"Thank you." he finally said and ducked out the door. He could hardly wait to tell Ron about the broom!

The morning of Harry's first Quidditch match he felt nauseous. It didn't help that hadn't slept well due to nerves and nightmares. What if he was so nervous he couldn't get off the ground? What if he got hit by a Bludger as soon as he was in the air? What his broom refused to obey him? What if -

Harry must have gone down to breakfast with Ron because someone was pushing two slices of toast with scrambled eggs in front of his face. He stared down at the food, his stomach clenching.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." Ron said. Harry shook his head. The smell of breakfast and excited chatter filled the Great Hall, but he was anything but happy. What had he been thinking, joining the Quidditch team?

"I'm not hungry."

Neve traded a frown with Hermione.

"Just have a bit of dry toast, then." she suggested.

"You'll need your strength, Harry, Seekers are always the first to be attacked." Seamus said through a mouthful of sausage. Harry felt his stomach turn over.

"Thanks."

As Fred and George came over to march Harry to the changing rooms, Neve smiled at him encouragingly.

"You'll do fine, Harry. You'll see." she reassured him. He sent a weak smile back at her and half-heartedly reciprocated Ron's high five before leaving. He heard his dorm mates, Neve and Hermione muttering something behind him. It sounded like Ron and Hermione were, for once agreeing with each other. Now he was sure his nerves become bad enough his hearing was playing tricks on him.

Harry was shaking by the time the team entered the pitch. Oliver's speech had calmed him a little but seeing and hearing the crowd outside sent his heartbeat racing again. His eyes automatically searched for his friends in the crowd. When he found them, he felt a surge of courage and grinned.

There they were, right at the front, waving a banner with Potter for President written across it and a large Gryffindor lion drawn underneath which changed colour.

Madam Hooch told the team captains to shake hands, warning them she wanted a fair game. Then she told everyone to get on their brooms. As soon as they did, she blew her whistle and threw the Quaffle she was holding high in the air. The game had officially begun.

For the first half, Harry was circling the pitch and keeping his eyes open for the Snitch. He was listening to Jordan's running commentary on the game's proceedings but keeping out of it, keeping Oliver's plan in mind.

Then he saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downwards after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it too and neck to neck, they hurtled toward the Snitch. Harry was pulling up ahead, just a tiny bit, the little golden ball only a few feet in front of him - and was suddenly blocked by Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain. Harry was just able to hold on, shooting him a dirty look. Flint just smirked. Harry heard the Gryffindor supporters boo at the action but obviously Slytherin thought it was worth it even though Gryffindor got a free pass.

The outrage following this last manoeuvre had just calmed down when Harry's broom gave a sudden jerk. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall, gripping the handle tightly with his hands and knees, his heart hammering in his chest. Nothing more happened and he relaxed slightly. But then it did it again. And again.

Harry tried to turn to Oliver to ask for a timeout but the Nimbus Two Thousand was completely out of his control. It was bucking wildly, trying to throw him off while Jordan was still commentating the game. The broom was going higher and higher, away from the game and twitching violently all the while. No one seemed to notice.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing." Hagrid mumbled. He had joined the other five earlier and was watching through his giant binoculars. The banner wavered as Seamus and Ron holding it focused on Harry. Dean, Hermione and Neve looked on worriedly.

"It almost looks like he lost control of his broom…" Neve whispered. Ron shook his head.

"That's not possible." he said. They all watched tensely.

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. The whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus asked. Hagrid shook his giant head.

"Impossible. No kid could have done anything to it. Only powerful dark magic could do that to that broom."

Hermione quickly grabbed Hagrid's binoculars from him and searched the crowd with it.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked half annoyed, half desperate. Hermione didn't answer, still searching. Then she gasped.

"I knew it. It's Snape - look!"

Ron took the binoculars from her, Neve, Seamus and Dean wide-eyed. Hermione was right - there Snape was, eyes intently fixed on Harry's form and lips constantly moving as if chanting.

"He's doing something - jinxing the broom." Hermione said.

"What should w-we d-do?" Neve asked, stammering in fright and eyes shining with suppressed tears. The other girl frowned.

"Leave it to me."

Before anyone could protest, she was gone. Ron groaned.

"What's that nutter up to now?"

Ron looked through the binoculars again, watching as Harry was still struggling to get back on the broom as it swished back and forth violently.

"Come on, Hermione." he murmured urgently.

A commotion over at the teacher's area drew their attention. Snape was wildly trampling on the hem of his robe which was flickering with small flames and giving off puffs of smoke. By the time it was gone, Harry was back on his broom. Neve stopped sobbing into Hagrid's jacket as he nudged to signal her everything was alright and Seamus and Dean whooped. Ron gaped as he saw a familiar head full of bushy brown hair behind the teachers' stands disappear. She had actually set a teacher on fire! Maybe Hermione wasn't as bad as he had thought she was.

After that, the game was quickly over. Harry caught the Snitch long before Higgs had even spotted it and Gryffindor was declared the winner. Everyone except the Slytherins whooped as the teams landed on the pitch.

By agreement of all involved, Harry's dorm mates and the two girls didn't tell Harry about what Snape had attempted to do during the game. He deserved to be happy and celebrate tonight.

Harry was still grinning by the time he went to bed; being as quiet as possible so he didn't bother his sleeping dorm mates. Today had been his first Quidditch match. And they had won! It had been an incredible feeling when his hand had closed around the Snitch and its fluttering wings stopped beating. In honour of their victory, their dorm had thrown a huge celebration. He could still hear them, even though McGonagall had already come in earlier to shut it down.

Harry had just crawled into his bed when he saw a silky square of fabric lying at the foot of his bed. He curiously took it; it felt as silky as it looked and seemed to shimmering in the moonlight. A note fell out when he unfolded it. Quickly tapping his table lamp with his wand, it lit up enough to read it and not disturb his sleeping dorm mates. It said:

Your father left this in my possession before he died.

It was time it was returned to you.

Use it well.

PS: Congratulations on your victory.

Turning the note around, he saw no signature. He looked back at the fabric in his hand, shaking it out to see it completely. It was a cloak. Glancing around to make sure everyone was asleep, Harry quickly threw it over and tiptoed into the bathroom to look into the mirror. What he saw made his jaw drop.

Or better, what he didn't see.

As the cloak had made all it covered invisible. His reflection was a gaping, floating head with slightly uneven glasses and a bird's nest of hair.

A not necessarily good idea shot through Harry's head and he grinned. He probably wasn't thinking straight since it was late and he was still somewhat pumped up from earlier. And so he covered his head with the cloak as well, the mirror proving him to be completely out of sight. Harry's grin grew wider. It was time for a midnight stroll.

Harry hadn't been walking around for long, taking his time as he strolled down corridors and curiously looked at the moving paintings and armours lining them, when he could hear a distant meowing. An icy shiver tingled down his spine at the sound. That could only be Mrs Norris and she could move faster than lightning; and where she was, Mr Filch wasn't far behind. He quickly walked around the corner and pushed the nearest door he saw, hoping it would open. It did and Harry quickly shut it behind him, locking it.

"Who's there?"

Harry whirled around at the question in alarm, wondering if he was visible again. He saw the silhouette of a figure among what looked to be chairs and desks. The figure was taking a couple of steps toward him, the candle it was holding shaking slightly. It was too far away from the person's face to tell who it was but Harry recognised it. He slipped the cloak off.

"Neve?"

She gave a shocked gasp and the candle swivelled in his direction.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked at the same time. Harry automatically grinned and walked toward her.

"I felt like walking around for a bit." he said dismissively, keeping the cloak behind his back. It felt like a little piece of the family he had never known, too private to show anyone yet. Neve looked at him with wide eyes.

"Aren't you scared you'll get caught?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing, anyway?"

She half turned away from him and beckoned him over. Her head was slightly turned up as she looked at something propped against the wall, her hair as always in a neat braid.

"I found this a few days ago when I was hiding from M-Malfoy and his f-friends." she told him over her shoulder, a slight stutter in her voice. Harry felt a stab of anger but before he could say anything, she continued. "Take a look at this."

He came to stand beside her and saw what she was looking at: a mirror. It was as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame and standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

"What does that mean?" he asked, pointing. When Neve didn't answer, he looked at her and saw her looking in the mirror, the expression on her face a cross between sadness and joy. He glanced at it and then looked back again with wide eyes. For the second time that night his mouth fell open in shock and surprise.

In the mirror, he saw not Neve and himself. Instead, it was just him - but with a crowd of people standing behind him. There were people with eyes like his, or his nose, or his hair. He even saw an old man with his knobbly knees. At the very front, right behind him, Harry saw a young woman with dark red hair - and his eyes. Beside her stood a tall, thin man with glasses and Harry's unruly black hair. The woman was smiling at Harry but she was crying at the same time. The man smiled at him as well, putting an arm around the woman. Harry's throat dried up when he realised he was seeing his family - his parents.

"Mum? Dad?" he whispered, stepping forward as if in trance.

"You see your parents?" Neve's quiet voice startled him out of his state and Harry blinked. She was looking at him curiously and he was feeling slightly resentful. Why couldn't she leave him be?

"Can you see them too?" he asked, feeling guilty. Neve shook her head.

"No." She turned back toward the mirror. "I see mine."

Harry didn't know what to say. He turned back to the mirror, feeling a great sense of relief when his parents were still there.

"Do you know what the mirror does?" he asked absentmindedly. Neve shrugged.

"I'll tell you if you promise to go back to bed."

They both turned so fast, it was a miracle they didn't twist anything. There, leaning against a desk behind them was Dumbledore, smiling.

"You really shouldn't be wandering around this late at night." he said. He stood and came to stand beside them, looking in the mirror. "This is the Mirror of Erised."

"It's called Erised, sir?" Harry asked. "Where does that come from?"

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." Neve said softly, pointing at the inscription. Dumbledore smiled at her.

"Yes. I have seen you here before, Miss Longbottom." Neve flinched guiltily. "Have you thought about what this mirror does?"

She turned to look into it again, eyes once more sad.

"Yes. But I don't know, I only see my family the way I wish they were." She unconsciously moved closer. "I wish for it more than anything."

Something in Harry clenched at the heartbreaking tone in her voice and he looked at his parents again. The wheels in his head began to turn.

"The mirror… it shows us what we want…whatever we want…" he said slowly. He could tell Dumbledore was nodding out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes and no." he said quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. I show not your face, but your heart's desire. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

Neve and Harry's eyes automatically flicked upwards at the inscription. Now it made sense.

"I do know that Erised is tempting, but I ask you not to go looking for it anymore, especially not at night. It will be moved to a new location tomorrow." Dumbledore smiled kindly at both their frowns. "It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, how about you go back to bed? You must be tired."

Harry nodded, numb from having had the chance to see his parents taken away from him so fast. But he couldn't bring himself to resent Dumbledore for it. He threw the Invisibility cloak over Neve and himself, forgetting to keep it private for now and they left. He could the Headmaster's eyes following them even though he told himself that was impossible. Somehow, he always seemed to know everything.

By the time the two of them had gotten back to the common room, after having groused a very displeased Fat Lady from her sleep, his euphoric post-Quidditch mood was thoroughly ruined. He took the cloak off as soon as they were inside. To her credit, Neve didn't ask about it. She didn't seem to he in a happy mood either.

They didn't talk to each other about their nightly adventure; they only quietly wished each other a good night and went to their respective dorms.

How is it so far? I admit the beginning is a little slow. But please do tell me what you think. And since I have seen this elsewhere and it worked (I admit, I also like knowing people like what I read - I like compliments as much as the next person (;) I think I'll try this too: I will update within the week if I get, say, 3 reviews for this chapter? Even if it's just a short sentence to know you read it? Please?