A/N: Thanks for your kind reviews, I read and appreciate each one.

NEVILLE / DRACO

At the other end of the train, Neville was confronting a familiar problem of his.

'He can't have gone far, dear,' said Augusta Longbottom wearily, for the third time that morning. 'You'd better get on the train, it's leaving in a few minutes.'

'But, Gran –'

'I'm sure he'll turn up,' said Augusta firmly, practically pushing Neville onto the train. 'Now, remember to send lots of letters, and I'll pass them on to Mum and Dad. Goodbye, dear.'

'Goodbye, Gran,' said Neville. Once the carriage door closed, he immediately began crawling under the seats of an empty compartment in search of Trevor.

'… Father's going to write to the school and ask them to change the rules,' came a drawling voice, floating into the compartment. 'I've been flying since I was six, I don't see why I can't get on the Quidditch team just because I'm a first year – What's going on here?'

'I've lost my toad,' answered Neville; he bumped his head on the seat as he straightened up. The boy, pale-faced with sleek blond hair, sniggered; his two burly friends guffawed belatedly.

'Well, get your fat arse out the way, we're taking this compartment,' the boy sneered.

'There's no need to be rude,' Neville scowled, though he moved out nonetheless. Finally, the train gave an ear-splitting whistle and shuddered into life, causing Neville to stumble and fall flat on his face. He scrambled back to his feet and hurried down the corridor amidst the three boys' howls of laughter.

He began knocking on every compartment to ask if anyone had seen a toad, but soon lost taste for the idea: most of them shook their heads and carried on their conversations; some merely laughed like the blond boy, and the older students scarcely bothered to register his appearance. Even the old lady with the trolley was no help.

Over an hour later, with an increasing sense of hopelessness, Neville reached one of the last compartments on the train. He knocked, and opened the door without waiting for a response. A pair of first-years were inside, one with red hair and freckles, the other with untidy black hair and round glasses.

'Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?'

Like everyone else, they shook their heads.

'I've lost him!' Neville moaned. 'He keeps getting away from me!'

'He'll turn up,' said the black-haired boy.

'Yes … Well, if you see him …'

Neville departed and slumped down the corridor, wondering what to do next. What would Gran say if he lost Trevor? He had bought him in Diagon Alley only two weeks ago. He was on verge of giving up when a girl with bushy brown hair strode towards him down the aisle, tutting under her breath.

'No manners whatsoever, honestly – What are you doing?' she asked when she spotted Neville. 'Haven't you found a seat?'

'No, it's not that. I've lost Trevor, my toad,' Neville said miserably. 'I thought he jumped on the train when I wasn't looking, but I can't find him anywhere.'

'Oh, I'll help you find him,' said the girl kindly. 'Come on, we can ask around. I'm Hermione, by the way, Hermione Granger.'

'Neville Longbottom,' said Neville. 'And I've already asked around –'

But Hermione had already burst into the compartment containing the two first-year boys. One of them, the redhead, now had his wand poised over his sleeping rat.

'Has anyone seen a toad? Neville here's lost one,' Hermione told them bossily.

Once they had again confirmed they had not seen Trevor, Hermione instead prompted the redhead to perform the spell she had interrupted. Disappointingly, the spell failed; thinking again of Trevor's possible whereabouts, Neville tuned out of the discussion that followed, though his attention was re-diverted when the black-haired boy declared himself as Harry Potter. The story of Harry and You-Know-Who was one Neville had enjoyed hearing many times throughout his childhood, and his Gran was somehow proud of the fact that her grandson and Harry Potter almost shared the same birthday. It was a strange thing to see him in person.

'… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad,' said Hermione finally. 'You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon.'

Hermione led Neville down the corridor once more.

'You might have to wait until we reach the station, Neville,' said Hermione. 'I'm sure someone will search the train properly once it's empty.'

'Yes, I suppose. Was that really Harry Potter back there?'

'Yes – although he didn't seem too sure himself, did he?'

Suddenly, the door to their immediate right slid open and the pale-faced boy that had tormented Neville earlier stuck his head out.

'Harry Potter, did you say? Here, on the train?'

'Yes,' Neville mumbled.

'Where?'

'Down the other end –'

'Out of my way,' said Draco immediately, pushing past the round-faced boy, who then had his shoulder checked by both Crabbe and Goyle. They ignored the girl's protests and set off down the corridor.

'Where're we going, Draco?'

'To find Potter,' said Draco, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

'Is he really on the train? He was joking, I reckon,' grunted Crabbe.

'Only one way to find out,' said Draco smoothly. As it happened, more whispers of Harry Potter floated out a third-year compartment, and Draco's excitement mounted.

'And why do we need to see him?' asked Goyle.

'Honestly, you two, do I have to explain everything?' sighed Draco. 'Potter's the most famous person on this train. Imagine how much respect we'll get if he sides with us. This is our best chance to make that happen.'

Once they had located the right compartment, Draco opened the door without knocking.

Five minutes later, however, the three of them were quickly backing out the compartment: Goyle was clutching his bleeding finger and Draco himself was suffering a sting to his ego.

'He'll regret that!' he spat. 'What's he playing at, hanging around with Weasley? What a waste. And stop moaning, Goyle, it was only a nibble … Yes, I bet that little blood traitor was lapping up the attention. Oh, Potter is going to pay for this …'