Author's note:

This story is about Neville Longbottom. It will follow the events at Hogwarts like they happened in canon, but through his eyes. I think of him as a powerful character, even before his moment of glory during the Battle of Hogwarts, and I hope I'll be able to show you that throughout the story. He just needs some encouragement. His grandmother is in my opinion not some cruel woman, she just doesn't know how to lure him out of his shell. I can imagine it must have been hard on her, too; she lost everything, when Frank and Alice were tortured to insanity, and as an elderly woman, she was suddenly raising an infant. I hope this is clear, I seem unable to find the right words to explain it…

Some parts might deviate from canon. Last point of this long author's note: I'm starting when they are boarding the Hogwarts Express. I might do a prequel about his childhood, but I don't feel confident enough as of yet, as a beginning author. I feel like for now, I need the guidance of Canon.

The underlined parts are from the books.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 1: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Today is a big day. Today is a day I, Neville Longbottom, never expected to come. Today has filled me with nerves and excitement, although the first is not uncommon. My teachers at primary Muggle school used to say I was shy and mediocre. It's much nicer than some things I've heard my gran or relatives say about me. But I'm drifting off. It tends to happen when I'm nervous.

You might be wondering why I'm so nervous. Well, today is the day I'll start at Hogwarts. I'm about to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, like my parents and grandparents – and probably generations and generations of Longbottoms – before me. I never thought this day would come; I always thought I was a Squib, a disgrace to the name Longbottom. But then the letter came, and who knows, perhaps I'll make grandmother proud? Hell is probably more likely to freeze over, I think, but here's hoping. As I see a whole bunch of redheads passing and one small raven-haired boy, I check my belongings for the last time. My memory is bad, and I know I disappoint grandmother regularly with it.

"Grandmother, I think I lost my toad.", I say dejectedly, when I come to the conclusion that I miss Trevor. Although toads are out of fashion, they are also easier to care for than cats, and nobody would trust me with something as expensive as an owl.

"Oh, Neville.", she sighs. It's that tone again. My grandmother is a master at making people feel like they are notoriously stupid and disappointing, making you feel like a stupid toddler. I hear that tone a lot.

She proceeds to simply summon him. Although I don't have him very long, he's already used to that – I think that says something, too. We say out goodbyes on the dignified and brisk manner that is characteristic for my grandmother, and I go to find Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Our families are all friends, and as we're about the same age, we often spend time with each other as children.

I find them in a – thankfully – further empty compartment. I'm not great at making friends, and when new people are around, I always worry about saying the wrong things.

"Hello Susan, Hannah.", I say smiling. It's great to see them again. I can feel the excitement building – although the Sorting still weighs on my mind, as it has been this entire summer. They greet me back, happy to see me again. We sit down and chatter a bit, mostly about the summer holidays, but also about Hogwarts. Both are looking forward to the Sorting and the classes. I do neither; most likely I'll not become a Gryffindor, which will once again disappoint my grandmother. And I just don't think I'll be good at magic. To be completely honest, I think I won't even make second term without getting kicked out. I'm nearly a Squib, after all.

The train ride is pleasant, however; although I miss grandmother, it's nice to be in the company of my friends, and their excitement is contagious. I'm just starting to relax, when the door opens for the first visitor we've seen. It's a pale boy, with a smug look on his face and blond hair. I recognise him as Draco Malfoy, from the few social gatherings we've had. Grandmother steered me away quickly. The Malfoys claimed to be imperiused and are held in high regard, but grandmother doesn't believe them, and she is not one to hide her distrust.

"I've heard Harry Potter is on this train. But he's not here. Pity. Although, you still have some sweets, I see?", the boy invites himself. He looks to the girls, and I see Susan frowning – most likely because her aunt warned her for this boy's family as well, as the head of DMLE.

"G-get lost, Malfoy.", I say, trying to sound unconcerned and cool. I don't like the way he's looking at both of them, as if they are worth nothing. Unfortunately, it doesn't come out like that.

He makes a move, and I lose my grip on Trevor – I was just showing him to the girls – who hops away to freedom. I feel tempted to follow him, but I know better. I started resisting; therefore, I must continue.

"G-get lost, Malfoy.", he says in a too high-pitched voice. "Oh dear, whatever shall we do know?", he asks. To my surprise – maybe I sounded more sure of myself then I thought, maybe he's afraid of the power my family holds (although his is more powerful), or maybe he doesn't feel like fighting before school even started, I don't know – but he leaves, with two people I only now notice after him, after snatching a large part of our remaining sweets.

"Thank you, Neville.", Susan says, smiling.

"Perhaps we should warn Harry Potter?", Hannah asks hesitantly.

I think about it, then shake my head. "Most likely he's had a good briefing about our world, so he'll already now. Besides, we don't know where he is; Malfoy probably finds him before us, as he already has searched part of the train."

They both nod. "I'm going to search Trevor.", I mumble blushing. I decline their help; Malfoy's question had thoughts tumbling through my head. Harry Potter. I know his story, of course; everyone does. How his parents died, and he lived. It reminds me of my parents, and I don't want to think of them. Shame fills me immediately, but I push it away. I need to find Trevor; he was entrusted to my care by a family member, so it would be highly embarrassing if I lost him already. I should go ask inside compartments, but I hesitate. Talking to people I don't know is hard. Everyone who has been around me knows of my parents, and yet they keep dancing around the subject. Not to mention they expect me to be some kind of cool kid, great at Defence.

"Hi, are you a first year, too?", I hear behind me, and I turn around. I see an eleven-year old, with rather large front teeth and bushy hair. She smiles excitedly, friendly even, and I try to smile back.

"Yes, I'm Neville Longbottom."

"I'm Hermione Granger.", she replies.

Now or never, I think. Later I'll know how true that was; when she's excited and starts talking, it's hard to make her stop rambling. But I like it, somehow. How genuinely excited she is about things she learns, as it is quite refreshing. "Have you seen my toad?", I ask shyly.

"No, I'm sorry."

I nod sadly. I don't know how long it is before we arrive at Hogwarts, so I bid her farewell, and welcome her to sit with us for the time being. She happily accepts, and I continue searching. I'm starting to enter compartments; this gentle girl has encouraged me. I receive polite answers and less polite answers – although the latter are less common – but no one has seen Trevor.

After a while, Hermione joins me, and when we enter a certain compartment the second time, one of the two people is about to perform magic. Hermione is excited, and decides to stay and watch; naturally, so do I. Unfortunately for the red-haired kid, the spell doesn't work. I look at other person, and with a start, I realise it's Harry Potter. I do not dare to utter another word, though I'm just as astounded as the other boys when she announces she knows her schoolbooks by heart already. I flipped through them, yes; especially Herbology and Potions seemed interesting. Luckily, we find Trevor, and then go change. I politely excuse myself to the bathroom, saying I'll certainly need fifteen minutes. That gives the girls time to change, without having to throw me out. I make sure to actually take twenty.

And then, at last, we come to a halt. We leave our belongings where they are, and step on the platform. Luckily, I can't see Harry Potter nor his friend. I have embarrassed myself enough for today.

"First years!", someone calls. Said person is huge, certainly from my point of view, but looks friendly. I try not to stare – grandmother says it's rude, and as I hate staring, I try not to do it myself – but I fail miserably. I know I don't have my robes on correctly, and I don't dare to ask for help. A Longbottom is proud and takes care of himself and others, I can practically hear my grandmother say it. Suddenly, I realise how far away she is. It's a strange experience, she has always been there. As I again overthink things, we reach the boats. Apparently, we go the Hogwarts by crossing the lake.

I end up in the same boat as Hermione, Harry Potter and the unknown friend of Harry Potter. It's a quiet ride, and I subtly watch Harry from the corner of my eyes. He seems just like the rest of us; somehow, I had expected a really tall, strongly muscled near-adult, not this rather scrawny kid, who watches Hogwarts amazed. Although, Hogwarts is quite the sight.

When we reach the shore – and after Hagrid found Trevor in the boat, where he had escaped again – we march towards the castle. As Hagrid knocks, a stern witch appears, who introduces herself as professor McGonagall. Her look makes me nervous, especially when I see she notices the state of my robes. The Sorting… Although I don't know what it will entail, as my grandmother didn't want to tell me (she's a firm believer of tradition), I'm not looking forward to it. I'm definitely not a Slytherin, and certainly not smart enough for Ravenclaw. My grandmother would want me to be a Gryffindor, like my parents. I, however, would be much rather in Hufflepuff, as I don't think I would fit in in Gryffindor. People never notice Hufflepuffs, I wouldn't need to be courageous, and I would be with my friends. But then again, I'm worried about my Gran's reaction…

My thoughts are interrupted by the ghosts flying by, discussing Peeves. At least I know who that is, my Gran warned me for him. I don't have time to think anymore, as professor McGonagall comes back to collect us. All eyes are on us, and professor McGonagall places a hat on a crutch before us. As it sings on, I feel myself relax a little bit. At least I don't have to do anything as of yet; I just have to put on a hat, and it will decide. It's both relaxing, and worrying at the same time. After all, it will not be in my hands – which means it's not a test of skill, but also not in my power to do something about it…

As I expected, both Hannah and Susan are sorted into Hufflepuff. I don't pay attention to the other Sortings. My memory is so bad, I wouldn't remember them anyways. And then, way too soon (or maybe just on time? Is anticipation worse than the actual event?), my name is called.

I walk forward slowly, and sit down. The Hat is on my head.

Ah, mister Longbottom. Yes, yes, what shall we do with you?, it asks.

I don't know, mister Hat, I think.

The hat chuckles. No worries, that's why I'm here. Let's see… You won't be a Slytherin, and though you're certainly not stupid, Ravenclaw is not your house.

I'm surprised it hasn't ruled out Gryffindor already.

You know, I've made up my mind, the Hat continues. You're just like you're mother, a really loveable and kind personality. With the sense of justice of your father. They were both truly amazing people, I'm proud to have been able to look in their minds. Such a purity of heart I see in you, Neville Longbottom. Yes, your parents were the kindest people. They never fought when they didn't have to, but when someone threatened something or someone they value, you'd better cover. Amazing Aurors, too. Yes, yes… And although you don't believe it now, young Neville, you also have their courage. I think all you need is a little push in the back, so to speak. Therefore, your one and only House will be-

"GRYFFINDOR!", the Hat shouts.

I am so happy, not only for my House, but also because of what the Hat said, that I forget to take it off before I go join the right table.

I know you're excited, Neville Longbottom; but you better walk me back!, the Hat whispers in my ear.

While everyone is laughing, I do so. But I don't mind as much as I would have minutes ago. I go sit close to Hermione, and watch the rest be sorted. Harry Potter is a Gryffindor, but then again, how could he not? His friend, Ronald Weasley, is also a Gryffindor.

The food is delicious, but I listen more to the conversations than I'm eating. I note that Harry Potter seems uncomfortable with the attention he is receiving and I'm quite surprised. What did they honestly expect? He is The-Boy-Who-Lived! I can't understand why no one apparently prepared him for this, but then again, maybe he's just shy. I can't give it too much though; I'm still too excited to be in Gryffindor. It feels like a dream come true; and everyone is friendly, too. I know I just thought about being a Hufflepuff, and it's still a great House. But that was partly because I thought I would never make a good Gryffindor. The fact that someone, even if it's a hat, believes in me, makes me want to sing out loud – although I truly can't sing. I can't even bring myself to care when professor Dumbledore announces a certain corridor is out of bounds, though I hope he's joking about the painful death. Even Peeves dropping sticks on my head doesn't bring down my spirits, and not even needing help to get through the portrait hole can embarrass me. For I, Neville Longbottom, am going to show the world that I am worth something. The Hat believes in me, enough to put me in Gryffindor.

And I?

I will show them.

My resolve only goes to that Friday. I particularly liked Herbology, from our classes. I struggle in Transfiguration, and trying to stay awake in History of Magic is a war on itself. Defence Against the Dark Arts is not such an exciting subject, which is fine by me. All those I could have managed – if not for what we had on Friday: Potions.

It started well. Professor Snape's introduction catches my attention; he sure knows how to keep a class captivated. I dislike it when he starts asking Harry questions, and keeps pressing when he can't answer. He seems like a nice kid. Of course, when Harry told him to ask Hermione, Snape deducts points. But I have to admit, it was not uncalled for, from either side.

The atmosphere in the dungeons makes me nervous, and I check the recipe constantly. I don't want to butcher my first Potion, especially after Snape already deducted points. But unfortunately, my nerves get the better of me and it's then I make a mistake. Suddenly, there are boils all over my arms and face.

"Idiot boy!", Snape reprimands me. He proceeds to explain what I did wrong, but I'm in too much pain to register. I'm relieved when I hear the words 'Hospital Wing', though the feeling vanishes when I hear Snape deducting points, again.

Simon is the one who takes me to the Hospital Wing.

"Sorry about not watching you better, mate. It doesn't hurt too much, I hope?", he sounds worried, as if he thinks I'll keep it against him.

"Made the mistake myself, Simon. No worries. It's all right."

I deliberately ignore the last question.

"Where's the Hospital Wing, anyway?", I hear him asking.

I groan mentally. Off course, it's not exactly an area we already came across. Neither of us thought to ask Snape, though I do wonder if I would've dared to ask. I doubt it.

In the end, Simon asks a ghost for directions, and a short time after that, we are in the Hospital Wing. Luckily, we don't encounter Peeves. The matron comes out of her office as we enter.

"Hello, dear boy, I'm madame Pomfrey. What happened?"

"He made a mistake in Potions. It was a cure for boils, I believe.", Simon replies.

I'm embarrassed, until I hear madame Pomfrey tutting.

"Each year there's one… Really, I'll have a word with Severus.", she states firmly.

"It's really not needed…", I protest feebly. I just know he'll be worse if she says something.

She looks doubtful, but reluctantly agrees. "If you're quite sure, mister Longbottom."

"You can go to class.", she tells Seamus.

"I'll bring your stuff to our dorm, Neville, no worries.", he says before he leaves.

"Here's some salve, apply it to the boils. Sit now here on the bed, you can go after an hour."

It's a few weeks into the semester, and I slowly begin to settle in. I feel at ease. I'm not exactly brilliant – certainly not in Potions and Transfiguration, and who doesn't fall asleep in History of Magic – but I do kind of okay. But here I am, in my first Flying lesson. I do not fancy a ride on a broom; I know that my grandmother forbade me those for a reason. I've been hanging on Hermione Granger's lips when she recited everything, she read about flying, as the only one of our year. I do not want to embarrass myself and my family by falling. Despite all that, I'm nervous beyond words. I don't fancy another trip to the Hospital Wing, although I do know where it is now.

I watch nervously while Madame Hooch demonstrates proper broom technique. My nerves are getting worse by the second. I've always thought I would fall, but now I come to think of it, what if I'm the only one who can't even take off? It would be just something that would happen to me…

When Madame Hooch readies herself to blow her whistle, I already take off. My feet are off the ground, and I keep going up. I'm beginning to panic. How do you steer this thing? It doesn't seem to listen to me. What did Madame Hooch say?

Come on, Neville, I think. You know what she said, come on, you can do it. I look down to Madame Hooch for some advice – that's a mistake. I feel dizzy; where is above me and where beneath me?

I have lost it, lost balance, and then suddenly, the ground is speeding towards me, and I fall with a dull thud.

Madame Hooch kneels beside me, and I know something is wrong with my wrist. There goes another trip to the Hospital Wing… I hear her warning the students to stay where they are; I hope the Gryffindors do so. It's my fault Madame Hooch is away from them; therefore, if something happens while they fly unsupervised… I don't even dare to finish that thought. Once again, I find myself in the Hospital Wing, were it luckily turns out to be nothing more than a broken wrist.

It takes a few hours, but then I'm released. As I walk back slowly – I don't fancy seeing my peers now, they will either be overly worried, or laughing – I feel like it's unfair. Why does it always have to be me? Haven't I, my parents, my family had enough already? When I come to a halt in front of the Fat Lady, I realise I have another problem: I can't remember the password. And, as she explains me, no password, no entrance.

I resign myself to sleeping in the corridor, hoping none of the teachers pass me – certainly not Snape. I shudder at how many points he would deduct, at how he would look at me, like I'm some pathetic being with no right of existence. The Bloody Baron passes a few times, but I pretend to be asleep. I fear that ghost; there's something about him that unsettles me, as if he thinks he has done something inexcusable.

Luckily, I'm not there all night.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed.", I say.

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" said Harry.

"Fine," I say, "showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later -", Harry begins to say.

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you.", he says.

I see Hermione open her mouth, but Harry interrupts her. I wonder what they are up to, but at this point, I don't care. It feels good not to be alone, like now I can handle anything. That is, until Hermione quietly fills me in, they are going to an official duel against Malfoy. Great.

But it gets even better. As Harry and Ron are discussing if Malfoy would still show up – I doubt so – or not, Harry suddenly shushes us.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.", we hear Filch say.

We start to sneak out, we're just around the corner, surrounded by suits of armour, when Filch enters the trophy room. I can't take it anymore, what if we got expelled? My Gran would never let me live it down. I break in a run, but (naturally), I trip and fall – right into a suit of armour. I suppress a sigh. It's always me. I don't need the encouragement Harry shouts to start running. We run and run and I have no idea anymore where we are, although that's nothing new.

But the nightmare is not yet over. Of all people, we run into Peeves. Why not Snape, I think sarcastically. It's the only way to make this night worse.

I desperately listen for Filch to arrive while they negotiate with Peeves. But, unfortunately, Ron loses his patience and makes a move towards Peeves. He starts screaming immediately, getting the attention.

We run on, and I start to get hope when we encounter a door – but it's locked. No no no no-

"Alohomora!", I hear Hermione say. I'm glad she's so ahead.

We run inside, and Harry and the others turn around to hear Filch' interaction with Peeves. I don't want to hear it, I can't stand. My eyes dart around the room we got in, until-

I was wrong. The night can get worse. Suddenly, I'm not so glad that Hermione's ahead.

I start tugging at Harry's sleeve, who is just saying that Filch has gone.

"What?", he asks.

And then they see what I've seen: a giant, three-headed dog, sniffing and eyeing us suspiciously. I don't know about them, but I'm scared stiff.

We bolt out the door. I'm not the only one who is scared, apparently. I don't care about Filch anymore; I would much rather make it out alive, thank you very much. We run all the way to the Tower, and I proceed to the boy's dorm without hesitation.

Lesson learned; I think. I'm never going out after curfew, never ever, I silently vow.

It's only the next day, before breakfast, I realise I can't find my Remembrall, which I had received over breakfast yesterday. I start to search around frantically, only to be interrupted by Harry Potter.

"Are you looking for something?", he asks, almost shyly.

"Yes, my Remembrall…", I trail off

"Oh! Yes, I found it yesterday … after you fell, so I thought I'd keep it and return to you when you were back…", he brushes through his hair nervously. "Must've forgotten…"

He looks like he expects me to be angry with him. "Thank you.", I reply, confused. He's hiding something.

As I head down to breakfast with Dean and Seamus, I subtly steer them to a place far from where Harry and his friends are sitting.

"So, how was Flying?", I ask nonchalantly.

"Oy, mate! You missed the best of it!", Seamus exclaims enthusiastically.

"Yeah.", Dean agrees. "You know, after you fell, Malfoy picked up your Remembrall and wanted to hide it, you know? Little prat."

"But then," Seamus continues excitedly, "none other than Harry Potter asked it back."

"And Malfoy gave it?", I ask incredulously.

Dean starts grinning. "Nope, Malfoy took off on his broom."

"And then Harry followed him and challenged him up in the air!", Seamus is now really in for it, I can hear it.

I'm glad nothing happened, as it would've been on me for it was because of me the teacher left.

But Dean continues, and I lean forward excitedly. This is way better then what Harry told me. "And then, Malfoy threw it up in the air, and he caught it!"

Seamus nods so hard I'm starting to worry for his neck.

"Yes, you should've seen it! It was brilliant flying!"

Dean nods excitedly, as the Weasley twins walk by. "Yes, right up until professor McGonagall came by and took him to task."

My happiness plummets. So, we lost points because of me, again.

But as I walk to class on auto-pilot, something strikes me. Why did Harry only tell me the very watered-down version?

Author's note:

Hello there, and thank you for reading this.

I'm a university student with an interest for Harry Potter. This is my second fanfic ever. Because I'm a university student, I won't be able to upload as much as I would like to – even when it's the summer holidays. I try to upload every two weeks, but sometimes I simply don't make it. If I know this before I post the previous chapter, I'll inform you in the author's note. Usually, I use this top author's note for warnings (such as torture scenes) that only apply to a chapter, but I don't expect too many of those, and I repeat them before the piece of the chapter where it applies to. The bottom ones are me asking questions, or about an expected delay on next chapter (hopefully not too many of those!), or me clarifying something I'm not sure is clear. Also, I apologise for any mistake against the English language – it's not my first language, and proofreading only does so much. Last but not least, a huge thank you to bookhater, who brought this idea to my attention. If you haven't already, you might want to check out the story's bookhater has on this site, they are magnificent.

For the questions/thoughts:

I don't know about you, but I feel like Harry could have used some information – for example, who was associated with Voldemort? Not that I'm saying he shouldn't be hanging out with those people, but come on. What if Malfoy came to take him at the Hogwarts Express before first year, saying Dumbledore wanted to see him or something? He would've gone and been in the power of one of Voldemort's inner circle. A little more information on this Pureblood mantra might have been helpful, too. But perhaps I'm overthinking things.

Also, in canon, we have no idea if Neville had childhood friends – I hope so – but I think he must've known some younger people. I can't imagine him spending his childhood only with his grandmother.

Last point of this Author's note… While I was writing this, I couldn't help but try to imagine what happened to Neville's parents. And then it struck me that, as far as I can remember, we never knew where Neville was during their torture. To break it down logically, there are, in my opinion, three options. One, Neville and his parents where on separate places when the attack began. Perhaps Neville was with his grandmother. But I think that would be strange, because Neville was one of the children who might be targeted because of the prophecy. On the other hand, Voldemort had just disappeared. The threat appeared gone. Second option, Neville and his parents where at their home when the attack began. I imagine that as it was late at night, Neville in bed, his parents downstairs. His parents are abducted to an unknown location, the baby stays behind. Again, a problem, since who would take care of baby Neville? Unless their disappearance was discovered quite soon, but a large part of the people where celebrating Voldemort's supposed demise. Third option, Neville and his parents where at the same location, and all of them where abducted, or they stayed wherever the Longbottoms were hidden. And in that case, it's not impossible Neville has heard the torture. Even if he doesn't remember consciously, it could explain his less-than-average start with magic: he learned as a young child to associate it with pain. What do you think?

Hint hint - I always enjoy hearing from my readers... - hint hint