Disclaimer: I in no way own any part of Harry Potter. I am making no profit off of this.

ELEVEN YEARS LATER

"Give over, Neville," Harry Potter huffs at his adopted brother. "Grandad Albus said we have to ride the train because everyone has to ride the train. There's to be no special treatment just because we're family."

"You give over," Neville grumbles, but there is no bite in his tone. He idly shifts his trunk handle from one hand to the other. "It's not about giving special treatment because we're family. It's about not forcing us to perform tasks again, because we have already done those things. It's silly for us to portkey from Hogwarts to King's Cross Station so that we can take a train to Hogwarts. We have already traveled to Hogwarts."

Harry snorts with suppressed laughter. "Did Grandad Gellert say that?"

"No, why?"

"You sound just like him."

"Come off it."

"Merlin's truth, I swear," Harry intones mockingly, crossing one hand over his heart and holding the other upright.

Neville throws a Chocolate Frog at him. Harry snatches it out of the air and takes an huge bite.

"Tasty," he grins at Neville in triumph, purposely showing off his chocolate-covered teeth. Neville mock-gags to hide his laughter and gives his brother a shove.

Harry is too distracted to shove his brother back. "Hey," he calls out as he snatches the Chocolate Frog Card just before it hits the ground. "It's Grandad Gellert."

"No way!" Neville is at his side in seconds. "Grandads always grab these before we can see them!" he exclaims, using their family term for referring to both grandfathers together.

The card's picture shows a younger Gellert Grindelwald striding ominously out of a badly damaged building. The Defence expert Gellert Grindelwald is perhaps best known for his work in the field of civil rights. He was instrumental in the passing of the Muggle-Born Protection Act of 1978. He is pictured here after driving off You-Know-Who at the battle of Godric's Hollow. He currently gives private lessons to Auror trainees and is often a guest lecturer at Hogwarts. Mr. Grindelwald enjoys logic puzzles and thunderstorms.

"How'd they find out that Grandad fought Voldemort?" Harry wonders out loud before Neville can shush him. The bustling platform falls instantly silent as everyone in hearing range turns to stare at whoever spoke the forbidden name. Harry, for his part, stares right back in a sort of frozen embarrassment at what he had done.

Neville suppresses a grin at how much his brother currently resembles a post owl. "You know you're not supposed to say that name," he mutters at Harry.

"Fear of a name only increases -"

"- fear of the thing itself, yes, I've met Grandad Albus too you know," Neville whispers wryly. "But you know Grandad Gellert said not to draw attention to ourselves."

"Fine! I'll just flounce off to kiss You-Know-Who's dainty feet, then," Harry huffs, but his words lack a sting.

Neville rolls his eyes at his brother but otherwise lets the matter go.

It is a fortuitous silence. In a matter of moments, the Hogwarts Express arrives and the platform descends into a chaotic mess of hurled luggage and tearful farewells. The situation isn't quite as bad as it will be when the train leaves in a couple of hours – one of the advantages of being related to the Headmaster of Hogwarts is that you always know when the Express will arrive at King's Cross Station.

The two boys struggle through the crowds, deposit their luggage, and quickly claim a compartment on the train. They still have over an hour before departure, so to pass the time Neville reads a book he had grabbed from Gellert's study just before leaving that morning. Harry pulls out his newly-acquired wand and studies it closely, idly turning it over and over in his hands.

"Mess about with that too much and you'll break it," Neville comments offhand without looking up from his book.

Harry gives him a sharp look but decides he isn't in the mood to fight with his brother. "It's just so different," he comments, sliding his wand back into his robes. "I always thought my father's wand worked just fine for me, but this one is so much better. How do they both work when they're so different from each other?" he asks as his fingers absentmindedly caress the end of his wand.

Neville frowns in thought. "It was like that for me too," he muses. "It always felt like my dad's wand wanted to work for me, but we only," he struggles for words, "we only fit so well together. My own wand fits perfectly, like it's made just for me."

Harry nods. "Hey," he asks suddenly, "are you still going to visit your grandmother on the weekends while we're in school?"

Neville shakes his head in relief. "No, though I'll have to spend more time with her over the summers to make up for it. She's not really all that bad, once you get used to her. Are you going to the Dursleys at all?"

Harry grins. "Never again. Grandad Albus said that I'm old enough now to decide what sort of people I want to be around. They are definitely not on the list. Remus will still stop by during the holidays, though."

Their conversation is interrupted as a red-headed boy enters the compartment, muttering imprecations against twins under his breath.

"Ron Weasley," he says without preamble as he sits down, holding his hand out for the brothers to shake.

Harry studies the other boy's face critically for a moment before giving a tiny nod to Neville. Harry had gained a certain measure of Albus' ability to read people through body language and general presence. Though Harry was no Legilimens, Neville had learned to trust his brother's opinions of people.

Harry and Ron are soon discussing Quidditch like they have been best mates all their lives. Neville rolls his eyes at the pair of them and returns to his book. He only has time to read a couple of lines before the door slams open and a sobbing, bushy-haired girl rushes in. Taking no notice of the others, she immediately tries to hide in a corner seat, pulling her legs up to make herself as compact as possible.

The apparent source of her distress imperiously strides into the compartment. Harry immediately gives a discreet shake of his head to Neville; the blonde boy is not to be trusted. Behind the interloper are two larger boys, each with the slightly confused expressions of the very stupid.

"Hiding, mudblood?" the strange boy taunts as he glanced around the compartment, and Harry sees the strange girl stiffen in fear at the sound of the boy's voice. "Ah," the blond said, spotting Ron, "a Weasley. Figures you'd come here, to hide among the blood traitors."

Ron leaps to his feet, face as red as his hair. "You watch your mouth!" he yells. "You're what, a Malfoy? Too bad that You-Know-Who isn't around to protect you."

Neville's lips are drawn into a thin white line. The name of Malfoy says a great deal to him, none of it good, and this Weasley kid is clearly not terribly bright. Next to him, Harry is fingering the end of his wand again. Neville discreetly elbows him. "Grandad said no magic," he murmurs, but Harry gives no sign he has heard.

"Poor and stupid, how terribly sad for you," the boy says easily, but his eyes are murderous. "My name is indeed Draco Malfoy, not that you've any right to speak it. Is this mudblood your girlfriend, Weasley? Are you two rutting like-"

Harry casually raises his hand. Neville slaps it down. Harry shoots him a look and jerks his other hand up in a sharp motion before Neville can stop him.

Draco keeps talking, but no words come out. Harry and Neville glare at each other for a moment until Draco abruptly turns on his heel and strides out of the compartment, face red with fury. His two bodyguards stare at each other in a total lack of comprehension for several seconds before realizing they should follow.

"What happened?" Ron asks, looking at the two boys blankly. "That looked like a charm my dad uses sometimes when my brothers are getting on his nerves, but that's a sixth-year spell at least," he slowly says, his tone alternating between admiration and suspicion.

"Fifth year, actually," interjects the girl, who has stopped crying and is now watching the brothers with an avid expression of interest. "And it's not so hard as it might seem from that. They just delay teaching it because the faculty doesn't want third-years running around with the ability to silence them, so they don't teach it until right before the OWLs."

The three boys look at her in surprise. "How did you know that?" asks Harry. He sees Neville shrug out of the corner of his eye; neither of them expected a muggle-born to know about one of the more secret policies of Hogwarts.

"I read it in Hogwarts: A History," she says carelessly, as if it should have been obvious. "It's a fascinating book, really."

Neville whistles. "You actually managed to finish that? I couldn't get past the third chapter."

"Well, it was a bit dry," she admits as she fishes the book out of a bag that has long since been beaten into shapelessness. "But the notes in the margins were exceptionally helpful."

"What – that's the teacher's edition!" Neville splutters as her copy comes into view. "How did you even get that?"

She looks at it in surprise. "Is it? I told the man at the bookstore I wanted a copy of every book that had to do with Hogwarts, I suppose he simply made a mistake."

"Some mistake," says Harry in surprise. "Don't let on that you have that, they likely won't be pleased."

"I . . ." the girl looks at the book again, obviously torn. "Well, if it's against the rules, I suppose I really shouldn't have it, but . . ."

Neville sighs and takes pity on her. "It's not a written rule. The teachers just don't like it when the students know their secrets, is all."

The girl calms down a bit at that, before sticking her hand out in a businesslike fashion. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she added.

Hermione fits into the conversation awkwardly at first, and it is obvious she would rather be reading. Ron, however, proves to be extremely proficient at talking, and she soon finds herself drawn in against her will.

The rest of the trip flies by, and it seems like it is only a few minutes until they find themselves waiting at Hogsmeade Station. They nod to Hagrid, who nods back and sends them straight on to the boats for first years. Harry silently gives thanks that his grandfather had asked the staff not to immediately be familiar with the boys.

"How do you two know the staff here?" Hermione demands of Harry as they walk to the boats.

"Uh," he flounders, caught off guard, "well, they are . . ."

"- very famous in the wizarding world," Neville steps in to save his brother. "You'd know them too if you had grown up here." He flinches as he realized what he just said. "And by here, I mean as a wizard, rather than with muggles. How was that, by the way? You must have been so confused the first time you did accidental magic . . ."

Harry lets Neville take Hermione off to a different boat, grateful for the save. As they cross the lake, he can just barely hear his brother's voice from time to time as he tells his companions all about Hogwarts.

" - and there's a giant squid in the lake, but don't be afraid of it," Neville says urbanely. "It's actually the animagus form of Professor Severus Snape."

Harry has to bite his cheeks to contain his wild laughter as they all leave for the Sorting Feast.

Four hours later, a flabbergasted Harry Potter sits his trunk down in front of his bed. Next to him, Neville groans with relief as he collapses onto his own bed face first.

"So," Neville says into his pillow. "Ravenclaw."

Harry sits down on his blue and bronze bedsheets. "Yeah."

"Somehow, I didn't see that coming."

Harry buries his face into his own pillow. "Me either. At least that Granger girl is here as well."

"Grandad Gellert will be happy."

"Grandads would be happy with anything that wasn't Slytherin."

"True. I feel kind of bad for Ron though, I think we were the only ones he talked to on the way here."

"Ron said he has three brothers in Gryffindor. He'll be fine." Harry intends to say more than that, but he is suddenly too tired to recall what he had meant to say. Sleep comes quickly and mercifully.

A/N: I feel the need to assure you guys that this is not a Super!Harry or Neville story. Two boys raised by Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald are going to be extraordinarily competent, particularly when they are the primary targets of Voldemort. Regardless, while they are very intelligent (for a given definition of intelligence), they are not perfect wizards who could apparate by the age of five. They have worked very hard to get where they are now. For the record, they can't apparate, cast a patronus, shift into an animagus form, or generally use any spell above third or fourth year (Silencio and Protego are the two exceptions to this. We will cover them later).