p class="MsoNormal"strongA/N/strong/p
p class="MsoNormal"strongSooooo... it's been a long time, fanfiction dot net! I've been a little bit busy with, you know, university and my evil weekend job and learning to drive and all the other fun things being a young adult means you kinda have to do to be successful or respected in this crappy society! But, I'm back now! Not sure for how long but for now, this story's something I've wanted to write for a while, so I plan to stick with it for at least the first few chapters, and hopefully that'll inspire me to finish it. Imagine that! Me! Finishing a story! Unheard of! /strong/p
p class="MsoNormal"strongAnyways, I'm trying something a little different this time- It's a HP story! This focuses on Neville, and what would Have happen if Voldemort had accidentally marked two boys as his equal instead of just Harry. I really hope you enjoy, and all feedback is appreciated! /strong/p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"-Longbottom residence, near the Yorkshire Dales National Park-/p
p class="MsoNormal"The sharp rapping at Neville's door woke him up, as it did every day. His grandmother's voice came from the hallway./p
p class="MsoNormal""Neville," she called, "It's time for breakfast!"/p
p class="MsoNormal"He sighed and sat up in his bed. Early morning sunlight pushed through his curtains into the small, dusty room, on the first floor of his Gran's tiny house, on the outskirts of the tiny Muggle village. He pushed back the covers and stepped into the dank bathroom wedged between the two bedrooms, wondering why his grandmother had woken him so early./p
p class="MsoNormal"After washing up, he looked into the mirror, at the unsightly scar splashed across his left eye, stretching from his forehead down to his jawline. No matter how much time passed, it remained a bright scarlet against his medium olive skin. Neville rubbed a finger across it, willing it down. He pushed his hair forward to cover as much of it as he could and chose a hoodie and jeans. If he felt uncomfortable with the staring today, he could just pull up the hood and shield himself a little better. With a jolt, he remembered what day it was- September the first, his first day at Hogwarts! Neville had been waiting for this moment for as long as he could remember. He's packed and repacked his trunk at least twenty times over the past few weeks, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. His books were nearly lined up. His pet toad, Trevor, sat in a travel tank, so that he wouldn't get lost in the chaos. Neville was always losing things, but not this time. He was determined to have a good start to the year./p
p class="MsoNormal"Downstairs, his grandmother Augusta was in the middle of whipping up some sandwiches for his long train journey, lost deep in thought. Her only grandchild was leaving to pursue his magical education. She worried whether she had made the right choice in raising him in a Muggle setting- surely, he would be behind compared to those raised in strongly magical communities? She pushed the thought out of her head as she cut the crusts off of the bread and put it in a plastic tub. She had done what she had to. He knew his background, and some basic information about the Wizarding World, but she couldn't raise him around nothing but wizards. As one of the two boys He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had marked that fateful Halloween, he would be receiving more than enough attention at Hogwarts. He needed a relatively normal childhood, even with the scar that marked him as visibly different. The Muggle children had kept their distance, when Augusta and her one-year-old grandson had first moved in, with rumours she was a witch and was hurting her baby, but in the next few years he made some friends, started school, had a relatively normal (if quite Muggle) childhood. She had never hidden magic from him, but she had forbidden him from ever speaking about it, showing other children, or otherwise exposing them. Neville, the shy, sensible boy that he was, had caught on quite well. In their ten years here, he had never let anything slip- not from fear, but from loyalty to his grandmother. After losing his parents at such a young age, he had latched on and not let go. At first, she had found his clinginess infuriating, wishing he was more independent, but after a visit from Remus where he explained how traumatising incidents can make children hold tight to what they know, she soon changed her attitude. She doted on her sweet grandchild, and babied him a little, but what else was she to do? He had no-one else. Not family, not like her./p
p class="MsoNormal"He came into the cramped kitchen and sat at the table, eating the rapidly cooling porridge with brown sugar she had set out for him, just as she always did on important days. he was quieter than usual this morning. Not so much as a peep out of him. She sat opposite him, finished with the sandwiches, and smiled fondly at the boy. "Neville," she said softly, "This is a big day for you. But if you don't feel ready, I'm sure we could write-"/p
p class="MsoNormal""No," he interrupted, in his serious manner, "that wouldn't do anything- I have to go eventually, waiting a few months won't change anything. Besides, I don't want to stand out any more than I already do."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Augusta looked down at her boy proudly, and for the first time saw how big he had gotten. He was almost a teen now, she had to remember, and would be needing her less and less. "I'm proud of you," it came out almost as a whisper, a lump building in her throat, but he reached out and placed his and on top of hers./p
p class="MsoNormal""It's okay," he said. "We always knew I'd go one day." She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Who knew one day would come so soon? "Besides," he dug back into his porridge, "Now you have more time for yourself, instead of worrying about me so much." Little did he know, this only made her worry more. She'd been to Hogwarts- she knew how dangerous it could be. And he had already faced more in his first year or so, than more wizards would have to in their entire lives. He had been there when his parents were tortured. She knew he couldn't really remember it, but she still heard his mumbled nightmares through the paper-thin walls of their little house. It still sat deep in his psyche, and she worried about how he would cope with being in a new environment, around new people. Her brave, precious boy./p
p class="MsoNormal"She coughed back a tear and got up to put the sandwich-box in his bag. "Remember, I've arranged for you to meet up with the Weasley's son, Ronald, when we get there. It'll be good for you to have a friend on the train."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Neville cast his mind back to when he'd briefly met the Weasleys in Diagon Alley over the summer. A small herd, he'd thought, of flaming redheads, jostling each other, joking around. He didn't know which Ronald was. What he did remember was they had all stared at him, even if it was fleeting, except for the two adults, Molly and Arthur. Molly had hugged him and told him he was welcome to visit them any time, and Arthur had been busy grilling Augusta on how electric kettles worked./p
p class="MsoNormal"Either way, he wasn't sure he was looking forward to seeing them again./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"-King's Cross station, London-/p
p class="MsoNormal""Keep up, Neville!" Augusta pushed the trolley, with the trunk and Trevor's little tank, through the busy platforms. Neville, by her side, looked around nervously as he tried to keep up with his sprightly grandmother. "Come now… it's just down here…" pushing past another crowd of confused European tourists, she approached a solid stone pillar. "Here it is," she announced, "Platform 9 ¾."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Neville looked at the pillar. It looked so… pillar-y. Looking back at his grandmother, he saw she had positioned herself a couple of metres back, directly facing the pillar./p
p class="MsoNormal""Come on, come here," she said impatiently. He moved to be almost behind her. "Hold onto my sleeve, it'll be easier if we go through together. You remember what I taught you?"/p
p class="MsoNormal"He nodded mutely, and gripped her arm a little tighter. They moved towards the wall… he closed his eyes, waiting for the impact… which never came. once he felt he could breathe again, he opened his eyes and saw the train, just as she had always described, red and shiny and… almost ready to leave. It was ten to 11. The porter helped lug the trunk onto the train, and Augusta began looking around frantically for the Weasleys. Spotting them, she waved them over. "Molly, Arthur, so good to see you again," she greeted them each with a kiss on each cheek. "You remember Neville." Molly kissed his cheek too, then called over the two twins. Neville nervously flattened the hair over his face again, and wondered if it would be rude to pull up his hood now./p
p class="MsoNormal""Hi Neville," said one of the twins. "I'm Fred, this is George." He nodded to the other, and they started climbing onto the train as their mother yelled at them to be good, the smaller ginger girl clutching Molly's hand waving quietly. . Neville went to follow, then hesitated as he looked back at his grandmother./p
p class="MsoNormal"She gave him one last hug and smiled at him encouragingly. "Go on," she said, "Make some new friends. Send me an owl when you get there."/p
p class="MsoNormal"He smiled back, albeit sadly, and followed the two boys onto the train with less than a minute before departure, pulling the door closed after him. The porter walked down the length of the train, making sure everything was secure, and Neville heard the whistle blow. He looked back at his grandmother for the last few moments and saw her silently crying into her handkerchief. He began to choke up but swallowed it down as he turned back to the twins, waiting for him near the entrance of a compartment where two boys were sat on either window seat./p
p class="MsoNormal""Neville, this is our baby brother Ron." They nodded into the compartment and moved aside so he could squeeze through the narrow doorway. "I guess our mum wanted you two to be friends, so we'll leave you be." Fred winked at Neville, "We have a few pranks to pull further down the train, but we expect you to be good and keep Ron in line."/p
p class="MsoNormal""Hey," yelped Ron, but they were already gone. He shook his head. "Hi, Neville. Good to see you again. This is Harry," he gestured at the other boy sat opposite him- their eyes met, and Neville felt a connection with this other boy he couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was his forehead scar, or something else. Harry felt it too, Neville was sure, but all he said was, "Hey. Good to meet you," and sat on the seat nearest the door./p
p class="MsoNormal"It was going to be a long ride./p
p class="MsoNormal"strongSooooo... it's been a long time, fanfiction dot net! I've been a little bit busy with, you know, university and my evil weekend job and learning to drive and all the other fun things being a young adult means you kinda have to do to be successful or respected in this crappy society! But, I'm back now! Not sure for how long but for now, this story's something I've wanted to write for a while, so I plan to stick with it for at least the first few chapters, and hopefully that'll inspire me to finish it. Imagine that! Me! Finishing a story! Unheard of! /strong/p
p class="MsoNormal"strongAnyways, I'm trying something a little different this time- It's a HP story! This focuses on Neville, and what would Have happen if Voldemort had accidentally marked two boys as his equal instead of just Harry. I really hope you enjoy, and all feedback is appreciated! /strong/p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"-Longbottom residence, near the Yorkshire Dales National Park-/p
p class="MsoNormal"The sharp rapping at Neville's door woke him up, as it did every day. His grandmother's voice came from the hallway./p
p class="MsoNormal""Neville," she called, "It's time for breakfast!"/p
p class="MsoNormal"He sighed and sat up in his bed. Early morning sunlight pushed through his curtains into the small, dusty room, on the first floor of his Gran's tiny house, on the outskirts of the tiny Muggle village. He pushed back the covers and stepped into the dank bathroom wedged between the two bedrooms, wondering why his grandmother had woken him so early./p
p class="MsoNormal"After washing up, he looked into the mirror, at the unsightly scar splashed across his left eye, stretching from his forehead down to his jawline. No matter how much time passed, it remained a bright scarlet against his medium olive skin. Neville rubbed a finger across it, willing it down. He pushed his hair forward to cover as much of it as he could and chose a hoodie and jeans. If he felt uncomfortable with the staring today, he could just pull up the hood and shield himself a little better. With a jolt, he remembered what day it was- September the first, his first day at Hogwarts! Neville had been waiting for this moment for as long as he could remember. He's packed and repacked his trunk at least twenty times over the past few weeks, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. His books were nearly lined up. His pet toad, Trevor, sat in a travel tank, so that he wouldn't get lost in the chaos. Neville was always losing things, but not this time. He was determined to have a good start to the year./p
p class="MsoNormal"Downstairs, his grandmother Augusta was in the middle of whipping up some sandwiches for his long train journey, lost deep in thought. Her only grandchild was leaving to pursue his magical education. She worried whether she had made the right choice in raising him in a Muggle setting- surely, he would be behind compared to those raised in strongly magical communities? She pushed the thought out of her head as she cut the crusts off of the bread and put it in a plastic tub. She had done what she had to. He knew his background, and some basic information about the Wizarding World, but she couldn't raise him around nothing but wizards. As one of the two boys He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had marked that fateful Halloween, he would be receiving more than enough attention at Hogwarts. He needed a relatively normal childhood, even with the scar that marked him as visibly different. The Muggle children had kept their distance, when Augusta and her one-year-old grandson had first moved in, with rumours she was a witch and was hurting her baby, but in the next few years he made some friends, started school, had a relatively normal (if quite Muggle) childhood. She had never hidden magic from him, but she had forbidden him from ever speaking about it, showing other children, or otherwise exposing them. Neville, the shy, sensible boy that he was, had caught on quite well. In their ten years here, he had never let anything slip- not from fear, but from loyalty to his grandmother. After losing his parents at such a young age, he had latched on and not let go. At first, she had found his clinginess infuriating, wishing he was more independent, but after a visit from Remus where he explained how traumatising incidents can make children hold tight to what they know, she soon changed her attitude. She doted on her sweet grandchild, and babied him a little, but what else was she to do? He had no-one else. Not family, not like her./p
p class="MsoNormal"He came into the cramped kitchen and sat at the table, eating the rapidly cooling porridge with brown sugar she had set out for him, just as she always did on important days. he was quieter than usual this morning. Not so much as a peep out of him. She sat opposite him, finished with the sandwiches, and smiled fondly at the boy. "Neville," she said softly, "This is a big day for you. But if you don't feel ready, I'm sure we could write-"/p
p class="MsoNormal""No," he interrupted, in his serious manner, "that wouldn't do anything- I have to go eventually, waiting a few months won't change anything. Besides, I don't want to stand out any more than I already do."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Augusta looked down at her boy proudly, and for the first time saw how big he had gotten. He was almost a teen now, she had to remember, and would be needing her less and less. "I'm proud of you," it came out almost as a whisper, a lump building in her throat, but he reached out and placed his and on top of hers./p
p class="MsoNormal""It's okay," he said. "We always knew I'd go one day." She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Who knew one day would come so soon? "Besides," he dug back into his porridge, "Now you have more time for yourself, instead of worrying about me so much." Little did he know, this only made her worry more. She'd been to Hogwarts- she knew how dangerous it could be. And he had already faced more in his first year or so, than more wizards would have to in their entire lives. He had been there when his parents were tortured. She knew he couldn't really remember it, but she still heard his mumbled nightmares through the paper-thin walls of their little house. It still sat deep in his psyche, and she worried about how he would cope with being in a new environment, around new people. Her brave, precious boy./p
p class="MsoNormal"She coughed back a tear and got up to put the sandwich-box in his bag. "Remember, I've arranged for you to meet up with the Weasley's son, Ronald, when we get there. It'll be good for you to have a friend on the train."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Neville cast his mind back to when he'd briefly met the Weasleys in Diagon Alley over the summer. A small herd, he'd thought, of flaming redheads, jostling each other, joking around. He didn't know which Ronald was. What he did remember was they had all stared at him, even if it was fleeting, except for the two adults, Molly and Arthur. Molly had hugged him and told him he was welcome to visit them any time, and Arthur had been busy grilling Augusta on how electric kettles worked./p
p class="MsoNormal"Either way, he wasn't sure he was looking forward to seeing them again./p
p class="MsoNormal" /p
p class="MsoNormal"-King's Cross station, London-/p
p class="MsoNormal""Keep up, Neville!" Augusta pushed the trolley, with the trunk and Trevor's little tank, through the busy platforms. Neville, by her side, looked around nervously as he tried to keep up with his sprightly grandmother. "Come now… it's just down here…" pushing past another crowd of confused European tourists, she approached a solid stone pillar. "Here it is," she announced, "Platform 9 ¾."/p
p class="MsoNormal"Neville looked at the pillar. It looked so… pillar-y. Looking back at his grandmother, he saw she had positioned herself a couple of metres back, directly facing the pillar./p
p class="MsoNormal""Come on, come here," she said impatiently. He moved to be almost behind her. "Hold onto my sleeve, it'll be easier if we go through together. You remember what I taught you?"/p
p class="MsoNormal"He nodded mutely, and gripped her arm a little tighter. They moved towards the wall… he closed his eyes, waiting for the impact… which never came. once he felt he could breathe again, he opened his eyes and saw the train, just as she had always described, red and shiny and… almost ready to leave. It was ten to 11. The porter helped lug the trunk onto the train, and Augusta began looking around frantically for the Weasleys. Spotting them, she waved them over. "Molly, Arthur, so good to see you again," she greeted them each with a kiss on each cheek. "You remember Neville." Molly kissed his cheek too, then called over the two twins. Neville nervously flattened the hair over his face again, and wondered if it would be rude to pull up his hood now./p
p class="MsoNormal""Hi Neville," said one of the twins. "I'm Fred, this is George." He nodded to the other, and they started climbing onto the train as their mother yelled at them to be good, the smaller ginger girl clutching Molly's hand waving quietly. . Neville went to follow, then hesitated as he looked back at his grandmother./p
p class="MsoNormal"She gave him one last hug and smiled at him encouragingly. "Go on," she said, "Make some new friends. Send me an owl when you get there."/p
p class="MsoNormal"He smiled back, albeit sadly, and followed the two boys onto the train with less than a minute before departure, pulling the door closed after him. The porter walked down the length of the train, making sure everything was secure, and Neville heard the whistle blow. He looked back at his grandmother for the last few moments and saw her silently crying into her handkerchief. He began to choke up but swallowed it down as he turned back to the twins, waiting for him near the entrance of a compartment where two boys were sat on either window seat./p
p class="MsoNormal""Neville, this is our baby brother Ron." They nodded into the compartment and moved aside so he could squeeze through the narrow doorway. "I guess our mum wanted you two to be friends, so we'll leave you be." Fred winked at Neville, "We have a few pranks to pull further down the train, but we expect you to be good and keep Ron in line."/p
p class="MsoNormal""Hey," yelped Ron, but they were already gone. He shook his head. "Hi, Neville. Good to see you again. This is Harry," he gestured at the other boy sat opposite him- their eyes met, and Neville felt a connection with this other boy he couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was his forehead scar, or something else. Harry felt it too, Neville was sure, but all he said was, "Hey. Good to meet you," and sat on the seat nearest the door./p
p class="MsoNormal"It was going to be a long ride./p