The next chapter!

Holy crap guys I am so thrilled with the positive response from my last chapter! I mean 47 reviews for one chapter?! That's crazy! Almost as crazy as 478 FOLLOWERS HOLY SHIT! Thank you guys so much. I read through everyone and I am grateful for everyone who likes this more than the previous version. I hope this chapter will not disappoint your expectations. Sorry it took me so long. School has started and my schedule is crazy, so finding time to write and getting my muse to write is getting difficult, even with a thought out prewrite ahead of me.

Also, I repeat, this is not an EVILDumbledore, just manipulative with good intentions. I know some people were concerned with that. Ron will be evilish. More like a brat with bad intentions making an idiot of himself.

I'm rambling. You probably didn't even read this. Oh well. Enjoy!

(Hermione and Susan will be showing up sooner than any of you think)

Oh, and for those of you reading The Lone Rider, it will be updated as soon as possible. By that I mean probably in a few weeks. Ish.

"It's okay, Raven. Open your eyes now. You're safe. I promise." A soft voice whispered to him and slowly the young raven-haired boy opened his eyes. What he saw made his eyes widen in awe and wonder.

He was standing in a gigantic living room. There was the most beautiful stone fireplace right in front of him, lit and everything, looking like something out of a castle. The floor beneath his feet was a rich, polished dark wood and when he looked around him he saw couches and loveseats angled facing towards the fire. They were beautiful too, a deep red that reminded him of the roses in Aunt Petunia's back garden. The walls were made out of stone, which only enforced Harry's imagination that this, wherever he was, was part of a castle.

"Where am I?" he whispered, entranced by the luxurious room.

The portrait in his hand started talking again and automatically he brought it up so he was eye level with the woman inside. "You are here at Potter Manor, your family home."

Immediately Harry thought she was lying. But then... he also thought she was lying about magic but she couldn't have been, because he was here, not at the Dursley's, not in his cupboard, he wasn't dreaming, and this portrait was talking to him. "My... family lives here?" he froze as a sudden thought struck him like lightning. "Do the Dursley's ever live here?"

"No." The response was sharp, immediate, leaving no room for Harry to doubt. "Those... monsters do not live here. This is where the Potter family, your real family, used to live." Dorea's eyes softened. "This will be your home as you grow older, but our journey is not over yet. There is no one here who is able to take care of you in the way you need so we must call and old friend."

Harry swallowed back his bitter disappointment, berating himself for even hoping that perhaps wherever he was there would be someone to take care of him. He was worthless, a freak, a waste of space. No one would want him around. Harry wouldn't want himself around either.

Dorea seemed not to notice his inner rambling. "Harry, I need you to walk in front of the fireplace." she told him, gently interrupting his train of thought.

Harry only hesitated for a moment before he did as she said and stepped so he was standing in front of the fireplace, his chest trailing behind him. It was surprisingly light for being so full. The flames were mesmerizing, the orange and yellow and red all blending together into one; reaching and stretching, flames eagerly licking the air for more oxygen - "Harry!"

Harry blinked and glanced down at the portrait in his hand. Dorea rolled her eyes at him and smirked a little, which confused him but she didn't elaborate on her amusement and he didn't ask. "There's a small flower pot on top of the mantle. Grab a handful of the powder inside."

The raven-haired boy stared at Dorea for a moment before he frowned and looked up at the mantle of the fireplace. He spotted the flower pot easily and reached up; standing on the tips of his toes, and managed to grab a handful of the fine powder out.

"Good, good." Dorea approved and when he glanced down at her she nodded at the fireplace. "Now this part is a little scary, but you'll be perfectly fine, I promise. Throw the powder into the flames, walk in, then say 'Longbottom Manor' very clearly."

Harry froze when she said 'walk into the flames'. "What? No! I am not walking into fire!" he protested, feeling a little pale. "I'll die!" He's thought he would die before, when he was getting beat up by Dudley's gang or went without food for a really long time. He's dreamed about dying - a flash of green light and then unbelievable agony. But he's never thought about burning alive. He shuddered. It sounded awful.

"Raven, look at me."

Reluctantly, Harry tore his shocked gaze from the flames to Dorea in the portrait. Her eyes were warm and reassuring and made Harry relax immediately. "I will never tell you to do something that would hurt you. Do not fear, this is perfectly safe and a common way to get around in the Wizarding World."

Harry hesitated but nodded. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He could do this. He doesn't have any reason not to trust this magic picture named Dorea who claimed she was his grandmother. Things couldn't get any weirder. Slowly, he walked into the fire with his chest and was very relieved when he didn't burn. He threw the powder down at his feet and said loudly and clearly, with a little hesitation, "Longbottom Manor!"

It was a very... uncomfortable feeling. The floor disappeared underneath him and it was like he was being sucked into a vacuum, going down, down, down, when all of the sudden he came to a stop and tumbled out of an opening. An opening to another fireplace.

Harry coughed the ash out of his lungs and shakily stood up, rubbing his eyes. He fixed his glasses and looked up - only to see a very intimidating woman with a stick pointed at him. "Who are you? How did you get access to my floo?" she demanded.

Harry paled and found himself unable to answer, fear making his palms sweaty and his voice catch in his throat. "Augusta! Calm yourself!" Dorea's voice snapped from the portrait in Harry's hand and harry quickly raised it and held it in front of his face as a sort of shield. He couldn't quite tell what Dorea looked like, since the portrait was facing the unfamiliar woman, but he half assummed she was probably glaring.

"Dorea?" Augusta asked in disbelief, her eyes revealing her wariness. She kept a steady and firm grip on the stick in her hand, as if it would do anything. That confused Harry. It was just a stick. It couldn't really hurt him. "What in the world is going on?"

"I need your help. This is Harry Potter, you know, Lily and James' son. He has been living with the wretched muggles for the past seven years and when I discovered this I refused to allow him to stay any longer and decided to bring him here." Dorea's sharp voice softened just a bit. "Augusta, please. He needs a caring and loving adult in his life. He needs stability."

Augusta's voice sounded different when she answered again, so different that Harry felt a little safer in lowering the picture frame, forgetting his annoyance of being talked about like he wasn't there. The woman, Augusta, was no longer holding her stick. In fact, her hands were empty and it seemed to vanish completely. Her eyes were a warm grey and she smiled at both him and Dorea. "Of course. Harry, it's so good to see you again." She began ushering him from the fireplace, righting her hat when it started tipping to the side.

Clucking lightly, she brushed the ash and dust off his too big clothes as she led him into the kitchen and Harry was too busy looking with wide eyes at the sight in front of him that he missed Augusta's concerned and confused frown. Green eyes struggled to take in the scene in front of him as his brain tried to comprehend what his eyes were seeing. Plates were hovering in the sink, being washed by themselves and then a rag was drying them off by itself, smacking one or two of the plates that didn't seem to want to be dried off.

A broom was sweeping the kitchen by itself and there were little creatures popping up in one place, doing something or fixing something, before disappearing again with a soft 'pop'. Augusta ignored all of it like it was completely normal, which, Harry thought, it probably was around if... magic... was real.

"Neville!" Augusta called, still fussing over the state of Harry's clothes. "Please bring down some one of your old shirts and trousers and do try not to fall and make a mess of things!"

Harry heard a muffled confirmation coming from above him and a few moments later there was a loud series of 'thumps' and then an almighty crash accompanied by a yelp of surprise. Harry jumped in surprise but Augusta barely reacted and merely sighed, addressing Harry. "That would be Neville, my grandson. Do forgive him, he is a clumsy thing." Though her tone was exasperated, her eyes were full of fondness that made Harry smile. "Now," she continued. "If I'm counting the days right, today is your seventh birthday is it not?"

Harry was extremely shocked and surprised that this woman he didn't know knew when his birthday was. His aunt and uncle didn't even know when his birthday was! Unable to speak, he just nodded slowly, his green eyes wide.

Augusta smiled at him softly. "Neville's birthday is the day before yours. He turned seven yesterday. We haven't held a party for him yet, I was planning on doing it tonight." her smiled widened and she ruffled his hair, ignoring the small flinch he gave at the sight of her hand coming at him - for now. "So I think it would be wonderful if we held a party for both of you!" Harry wasn't quite sure of this, but relaxed when Augusta quickly reassured him. "Don't worry; it'll only be the three of us. Though we might go visit Neville's parents as well."

A boy that seemed to be about the same age as Harry - though pudgier, with round cheeks and almond shaped eyes - came into the kitchen holding a shirt and a pair of trousers. There was a small bruise on his cheek and he was grumbling under his breath. "Gram, why am I so clumsy?" he complained, unceremoniously handing her the clothes before flopping down in one of the kitchen chairs.

"You must get it from your father." Augusta shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Merlin knows that man constantly had bruises and scrapes when he was around your age. Neville, I want you to meet Harry. He's going to be living with us for a while."

"Harry, Harry Potter?" Neville asked, staring at Harry in confusion. Harry shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "But I thought no one knew where he lived? Didn't Dumbledore put him somewhere safe or something?"

"Yes, well, he is here now." Augusta said shortly, her eyes flashing angrily before she shook her head and sighed softly. "But yes, this is the Harry Potter."

Neville jumped off his chair at Augusta's confirmation and stuck his hand out to Harry, a serious look on his face. "I'm Neville Longbottom. I kinda of lost my parents like you lost yours." he smiled. "We can be brothers! Okay?" he added questionably, suddenly looking unsure.

Harry was a little surprised that Neville knew who he was, and that Neville had lost his parents too. Though he wondered what 'kinda lost' meant, he was happy that someone else understood what it was like to not have parents. Harry reached out hesitantly with a small smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Neville." his smile widened at Neville's proposal. He'd never had a brother before. He wondered what it would be like. Would it be good? Or would it be bad? Taking a risk, Harry added, "I would love to be your brother."

"You can sleep in my room!" Neville declared, looking absolutely ecstatic an in the next second he was gone, doing who knows what. Augusta chuckled and smiled at Harry. "I don't know what you did, but thank you."

Harry frowned slightly, looking at Augusta with question in his eyes. Why was she thanking him? He didn't do anything that deserved being thanked for. "Why?"

Augusta stared at where Neville had run off, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Neville is a shy, insecure boy. Outside circumstances haven't allowed him to have any friends and his accidental magic began very, very late, which didn't help matters." Augusta sighed. "I fear I have been too tough on him. He is not usually this open to strangers." she paused, looking at Harry thoughtfully. "However, he may feel a kinship with you since you lost your parents and you were only born a day apart. Whatever the case, he has taken a liking to you. I only ask that you do not hurt him."

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed, his green eyes going wide with surprise and disbelief. He would never hurt Neville! He tries to never hurt anyone, because he knows what it is like to be hurt and he doesn't want other people to be hurt too. Besides, Neville seemed really nice. Harry hoped they would be able to be good friends, perhaps even brothers as Neville had suggested.

Augusta smiled at him thankfully before clapping her hands together. "Now, I imagine you are probably hungry. Let's get some food in you. Slinky!" she called and a moment after there was a pop and one of those elf creatures showed up in front of Augusta, bowing low, and almost giving Harry a heart attack. "Slinky, prepare some soup and toast please, along with three cups of tea. Send a few of the house elves to resituate Neville's room. Tell them to add another bed so young Master Potter can share a room with him."

Slinky stayed silent, bowing even lower so his gigantic ears touched the floor before he disappeared and reappeared in front of the stove. Harry stared open mouthed in awe as Augusta gently told him to get up and led him to the sitting room. Harry sat down on the love seat and Augusta sat in a comfy and antique looking chair across from him. "Harry." she began, pressing her lips into a thin line, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "I need you to tell me everything you know."

Harry blinked. "Well, I know that 6 times 6 is thirty six. I know that an Italian named Christopher Columbus was sent by the Queen to find the New World - the Americas. If you combine baking soda and vinegar it makes a giant explosion -"

Augusta cut him off with a small chuckle and a small smile on her face. Harry somehow got the feeling she didn't do that very often. "No, no. I mean what you know of the Wizarding World and you parents."

"Oh." Harry said softly, folding his hand in his lap and staring at them as if they were the most interesting things in the world. He bit his lip, hesitating. He didn't really want to talk about his parents but... she wouldn't have asked unless she really wanted to know, right? "I know that my parents were killed by a bad wizard during some war." he said softly. "I know that they hid, and their house was under a Fidelus Charm? A guy named Sirius Back convinced them to let a man named Peter Pettigrew be the secret keeper. That man betrayed them, I guess, and uh that was why the bad wizard found them and killed them."

Unconsciously, Harry raised his hand to rub his scar, a watery frown on his face. "T-They - I have grandparents that died and uh, a man named Remus Lupin was mentioned and so was Severus Snape." Harry looked up at Augusta with wide eyes filled with tears. "'Gusta, why didn't anyone tell me any of this? Sirius Black and Remus Lupin and Severus Snape were all my p-parents friends. Why couldn't I live with them? Why'd I have to live with the Dursley's?"

Augusta knelt down in front of him and Harry felt hands tipping his chin up so he was looking into Augusta's sympathetic eyes. "I do not know, Harry. But I do know that you are very strong for what you have gone through." That made Harry smile a little. No one had ever called him strong before. "Your parents were wonderful people. How did you learn of this?"

Harry paused; hesitating for a moment before pulling out the letter his parents wrote him from his pocket and handed it over to Augusta. "From this. They wrote it for me. They knew, somehow. It was inside the chest with the picture frame and a bunch of other stuff." he touched the Gryffindor scarf around his neck, inhaling the musky scent of pine and something else - perfume? "I found the scarf with it, too. I think it was my Dad's."

Augusta was only nodding absently, her eyes narrowing a little as she read the letter. As he watched, she made that face that aunt Petunia makes when she gets a really good idea for some kind of cake. "Harry." Augusta lowered the letter and carefully folded it and handed it back to him. "I know why you found that chest."

"Really?" Harry perked up, his curiosity stronger than his sadness at the moment.

"I believe you're parents had set every precaution for the war. It is not an uncommon practice, especially for a family as important as yours. They probably set something up for each thinkable and unthinkable outcome of the war. In this case, you received the outcome that was set up if your parents both died and you were sent to the Dursley's because Peter betrayed them. My guess is the chest followed you, to wherever you were, and revealed itself to you when you were in dire need of an escape" She frowned slightly. "We all had our doubts about who were spies and traitors during the war. It wouldn't surprise me if they had a letter and chest made assuming Remus Lupin betrayed them. Everyone did think…" she trailed off, a troubled look on her face.

Harry wasn't listening to her mumbling; instead he was focusing on the warm glow in his chest. His parents had set up that many precautions? Just for him? "'Gusta..." Harry asked hesitantly, catching her attention. "How'd you know my mum and dad?"

Augusta blinked. "You're mum and dad were both close friends with my son and his wife - Neville's parents." The elf thing suddenly popped into view, placing food and tea on the table for them and nearly scaring Harry out of his skin. "Now, Harry," Augusta told him strictly, but gently. "I want you to eat this soup and drink this tea, alright? Neville should be down soon -"

"OUCH!" Neville suddenly came bouncing on one leg into the sitting room; his face scrunched up weirdly as he held his foot in his hand and hopped around on his other. He sat down on the sofa next to Harry, making him flinch a little, but Neville didn't seem to notice. "Gram..." he whined. "I hurt my toe!"

Augusta rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Well, Neville, you'll have to let it heal the muggle way." she said sternly, narrowing her eyes. "I told you last time that happened, and the time before that, and the time before that, that I would not heal it again."

Neville began to protest but was silenced with a look and hung his head dejectedly. "Yes, Gram..." His mood perked when he saw the food on the table and snatched up on of the bowls eagerly. "Tomato soup!" he groaned, a grin on his face as he stuffed a spoonful of the red soup in his mouth, "I love this!"

Augusta shook her head before turning her attention back to Harry. "Now, as I was saying before I was interrupted," she sent Neville a look, who ignored it and continued to happily eat his soup, "I want you to eat the soup and drink the tea. You can talk with Neville and when you're done he can take you up to your new room and you can change into these clothes, alright?" she handed him the shirt and trousers, which Harry placed on the couch beside him. "I know this must all be coming as a shock to you, to have things happen so suddenly. If you want you can take a nap, or Neville can answer whatever questions you have. I'll wake you up before the party." Augusta then addressed both of them. "I'm going out for a little bit, I should be back in a couple of hours. Behave."

"Bye Gram!" Neville grinned cheekily. "I always behave!" Augusta didn't seem to believe that statement deserved a response judging by the way she rolled her eyes, making Harry stifle a giggle. He watched as she walked out of the room and heard her voice faintly call out from the room with the fireplace and after hearing a whoosh, Harry guessed she was gone.

Neville was still eating his soup and Harry assumed that that meant he was allowed to have the other bowl, since no one else was there to have it. As he picked it up, he half expected Neville to turn mean and smack it out of his hands since Augusta was gone, but he didn't. Harry was unable to contain his smile at this fact and quickly started eating his soup, content to let Neville ramble on while he ate.

"I can't believe I finally get to meet you! I was starting to wonder if maybe no one knew where you were, no has heard from you for years! I was hoping one day I would get to meet you and we could play and be friends but Gram told me that that probably wouldn't happen which made me sad so I wished last night on a star, like Muggles do, to meet you and I did!" Harry was fascinated by how Neville could eat and talk so rapidly at the same time without breathing. Harry wondered if he breathed out of somewhere else. Did he have gills like a fish, but for air? Harry investigated his neck and came to the conclusion that no, he didn't, and Neville just must not need to breathe.

"You have to come see my garden it is so cool. There are so many different plants and my Gram promised me a couple months ago that she would get me a very rare one for my birthday but she got busy and was called away yesterday by the Ministry so we had to postpone my party for today, which is now awesome because we can both have a birthday party together!" Harry spooned another scoop of soup into his mouth as Neville talked. Hmm… he seemed to be inhaling his soup. Maybe he breathed through the soup?

"We weren't going to have a big party, though. I'm not really sure but you're probably used to giant birthday parties because you're the Boy-Who-Lived and all that so I'm really sorry that it's just going to be me and my Gram and maybe my parents if we go visit them today. I also didn't get you anything so I won't have a birthday present for you but I will make it up to you –" Harry interrupted Neville's ramblings quietly. "I've never had a birthday party before."

If the subject wasn't so somber, the scene in front of him would have been hilarious. Neville's spoon, filled with tomato soup, was hanging out of his wide open mouth, the red liquid dripping down his chin like blood from a vampire. Neville's eyes were wide with abject horror. "What? Never?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well we'll have to fix that!" Neville declared, swallowing the last of soup and hastily wiping his mouth off with a napkin. "Tomorrow you're first birthday party is going to be the best birthday party you've ever had! We'll make cake and cupcakes and have doughnuts for breakfast and have Gram take us to Diagon Alley to get presents and play and –" Neville cut himself off, suddenly looking really insecure. "And, uh, we can see my parents, yeah? Gram said they were close to your parents and that you were supposed to come live with us but Dumbledore put you somewhere safer but I guess it wasn't much fun since you haven't had a party but I think you would want to meet them cause they were your parents best friends and –"

Harry, while Neville had been talking, felt like crying. He had just met this boy and already he was talking about doing stuff a sibling would do or a really close friend would do. He placed his empty bowl (he wasn't quite sure when he had finished) on the table while the brown-haired boy was talking and walked over to Neville, hugging him tightly. Neville was surprised, but hugged him back.

They separated, and Harry grinned at Neville with suspiciously shiny eyes. "Neville, I would love to see your parents. Thank you."

Neville grinned back. "Yeah, well, you should get to see them. I know I've always wanted to meet your parents." He added wistfully, then seemed to catch himself. "Not that – I didn't mean –"

Harry laughed off the comment and Neville's stuttering. "It's alright, Neville. I know what you meant."

Neville's grin returned and he offered to show Harry the room they would be sharing, which he gratefully accepted after grabbing the clothes Augusta had given him. Part of him wondered, as Neville led him up a breath-taking stone staircase (seriously, was this actually a castle?), if the Dursley's would do anything when they found out he was gone, but shrugged it off. It didn't really matter. He wasn't going back and he would do anything for Augusta and Neville to make sure that happened. And if that included being Neville's brother and going along with this party, well, then, that's even better.

He stopped in the doorway, his jaw hitting the floor and his eyes going wide when he saw Neville's bedroom. "This is your bedroom?" Harry asked incredulously. "This room is bigger than the Dursley's house!" Okay, that may have been a stretch, but it was definitely huge.

The entire room was made from stone and the floors were a rich hardwood, but the furniture made it seem quite cozy. Tucked in the right side of the room was a large four-poster bed with red and gold blankets and pillows. Across the comforter was a large golden lion. There was a gleaming wooden trunk at the foot of the bed with the golden letters N.L. carved onto the top. Across the walls on the right side were posters of bands Harry had never heard of and posters of men and women riding brooms? There was a nightstand beside his bed, which was mostly empty save for a photograph inside a picture frame and – curiously enough – a small basket of chewing gum wrappers and Harry made a note to ask about that later.

On the left side of the room it was mostly bare, save for a four-poster bed with only a mattress, no pillows or blankets or a comforter. His trunk was neatly pressed up against the end of the bed. Harry frowned a bit when Neville announced that this was now his. Harry supposed he looked as confused as he felt, because Neville added, "Oh, right. What's your favorite House?"

"House?" Harry asked, brows furrowing in confusion. What does he mean, House?

"Yeah, you know, Hogwarts House? Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Gryffindor? I mean, you're wearing a Gryffindor scarf." Neville explained and clapped his hands. "Slinky! Red and gold, please!" Not a moment later, on Harry's bed was exactly the same kind of blankets and pillows and lion comforter as Neville's. However, the raven-haired boy cringed at the bright, clashing colors. It didn't… fell right. It didn't feel like him.

"Err… how about something else?" Harry suggested apologetically, feeling bad for basically telling Neville he loathed the gold and red. Perhaps one of the other… houses had better colors. "What about Slytherin?" he asked, picking one of the names Neville had mentioned. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue.

Neville made a face. "I don't know why you would want the nasty Slytherin house but…" he shrugged and this time told Slinky to make it Slytherin house. Immediately, the colors changed from the eye-burning red and gold to a much cooler green and black, bringing a small grin onto Harry's face. "I love it!" he declared, throwing himself on top of the black comforter that had a giant green snake stitched into it. He sighed happily, practically sinking into the softness of the mattress. It was like a cloud. He'd never had his own bed before. Or his own room.

Suddenly clothes were thrown on his head and he spluttered, shoving them off and sitting up to see Neville grinning at him. "Get dressed!" he rolled his eyes as he sat down on one of the plush white couches in the center of the room, angled towards the fireplace on the back wall. "Gram said you should take a nap, which means you have to take a nap, which means I have to take a nap to." Harry blinked and glanced around for the bathroom to change, nodding his acceptance of Neville's words. He was looking forward to a nap. He was so exhausted, mentally and physically.

"The bathroom is the door to the right. Go ahead and change." Neville yawned, stretching out on the sofa before getting up and crawling into his own bed. "I'm going to go ahead and sleep, 'Kay?"

Harry needn't have answered because Neville was snoring within seconds, bringing a small smile to Harry's face. He followed Neville's directions and entered the bathroom on his right, too tired to be completely impressed and awed by the size of the luxurious bathroom. He pulled on the new clothes (pajamas, still a little too big) and splashed some water onto his face. Then he walked out, holding back a yawn when he noticed Neville hadn't even bothered to get under the covers. A small smile graced his face as Harry walked over to Neville's bed and gently, careful not to wake him, position the boy so he was full on the bed then laid the covers over him. Harry stood for a moment, the smile remaining on his face as he gazed down at – Neville? His brother? Whatever he was now, Harry whispered to him a soft thank you.

Harry didn't know how much a brother Neville would truly become, nor did he understand the implications of everything that had happened that morning/afternoon. One day, he would understand. One day he would know what Augusta had been doing when she mysteriously left and would be forever indebted to her. But for now, he was content to not worry about anything for once and just take a nap.

Did you enjoy it? Again, sorry for the long wait. Feel free to review your thoughts, opinions, and suggestions for how YOU would like to see the story go. You can also PM me if you have any questions. I think I had something else to say, but it's late, I'm tired, I ran six miles today and have to run more tomorrow morning and I need to go to bed.

BUT I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH I DECIDED TO POST THIS FIRST!

QOTC: Which character would you want to see the most?

Luna

Weasley Twins

Draco

Sirius