DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you've seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$ from this…

A/N: Again, sorry for the delay getting this one up. More notes at end of chapter…

Thanks for the reviews.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: ONE OF THE OTHERS

MONDAY, AUGUST 27, 1988 - THE BURROW, OTTERY ST. CATCHPOLE, DEVON, U.K.

"Well that sucked," Harry said as he got back to his feet after falling face first onto a dirt road. It was the second time he had side-along apparated, the first being when Sirius had brought them to Black Manor, and once again he had landed on his face. He was not the only one as Hermione and Clarice had also landed less than gracefully to say the least.

"Give me shifting any day," Clarice said.

"It gets easier," Remus said. "Just a question of anticipating the landing is all."

"Which is something you don't have to do when shifting," Hermione said as she dusted herself off.

"That and you don't feel a thing," Harry added. At least he now knew what apparition felt like and to be honest he did not like it one bit. He was so not looking forward to apparition lessons next summer.

"What in the world is that?" Hermione asked pointing.

Harry looked where she was pointing and saw the strangest building he had ever seen before. He guessed it was a house of some sort, placed in the middle of gardens in an isolated spot in the countryside. But it looked almost like a tower. It was at least five stories tall and looked like whoever had built it was mad. There was not a strait line anywhere, excluding the windows and one door he would see and Harry was certain it should have fallen over ages ago. There was no way a wooden building like that could remain standing. Still, it had a charm to it - or perhaps many on it, Harry thought.

"That is the Burrow," Remus said.

"The what?" Harry asked.

"The Burrow. It's what the Weasleys call their homestead.

"Why would anyone name a house after a donkey?" Clarice asked.

"Not B-U-R-R-O," Remus replied, "B-U-R-R-O-W."

"Donkey makes more sense," Harry quipped.

"It certainly bears no resemblance to a hole in the ground," Hermione added.

Minerva had set this day up, but could not make it as she was busy getting ready for the next school term at Hogwarts which would start on Saturday. The Weasley children were known as experts at flying brooms and this would be the first lesson for Harry, Hermione and Clarice.

Bill Weasley was the oldest. He had played Chaser for his House team up through last year but was about to begin his final year and had given it up. He wanted to become a Curse Breaker and that required Outstanding N.E.W.T.s in six subjects, that and he had learned he was to be Head Boy. Much as he loved the game, he knew it was Quidditch or Curse Breaking. Charlie Weasley was about to start his Fifth Year. He was the Seeker on the same team and had been since Second Year. He had recently been named as Team Captain which meant he was supposed to train his players and that included improving their flying skills. Percy was said to be no slouch on a broom either. But neither was he the Quidditch fanatic like his other brothers. Over the last weekend, Fred and George had told Harry and the others that Perfect Percy had spent the summer planning to put his older brothers to shame this year as the prank God of Hogwarts and had not been out on a broom much at all. Fred and George claimed that they were no slouches either and planned to go out for the House Team their Second Year as Beaters. They knew the two veteran beaters would finish at the end of their First Year, which was a year away.

Ron was said to be okay, but annoying. This did not surprise Harry and the others for that was their impression of the youngest Weasley boy. Ginny, according to the twins, was a natural. Only they knew she had even sat a broom before. She had been sneaking out for flying for about a year now when no one seemed to be paying attention to her. The twins had caught her, and said nothing to their Mum about it. Ginny was too good to risk getting grounded. Apparently Mother Weasley considered broom riding in general un-lady like and Ickleronniekins would have a fit is he ever had to play with a girl. The twins thought this day would be a great prank on Ron as he would have no choice if he wanted to fly but to play with Girls and the twins were going to reveal their "secret" weapon (Ginny) to the older Weasleys. She could fly rings around Ron and he was in serious need of an attitude adjustment in their opinion.

While Remus and the children were flying, Sirius was off to locate the Lovegood home. There were two reasons for this. First was the fact that he was an animagus. His form was a large, black dog so he could move about the countryside without raising suspicion - Muggle or Magical. Second, while he had been exonerated for what had landed him in Azkaban, there were many who still did not trust him. Apparently Molly Weasley, the matriarch of the Weasley family, was one who was still uncertain. After all, Dumbledore himself had said that the evidence was incontrovertible.

Remus had brought the children's Comet 260's as well as an older model Cleansweep for himself as he would be flying too. Sirius had played Quidditch at school. He had been a Beater on the same team as Harry and Clarice's dad, who had played Chaser. It was generally known that the most daring flyers became Seekers. Chaser required skill and teamwork. Beater was about brute force and a degree of recklessness, hence the reason why Sirius was not teaching the kids how to fly. Both Remus and Minerva shuddered to think what Sirius might encourage the kids to do.

They approached the odd looking house with brooms on their shoulders and could smell the cooking coming from the kitchen. The door into the kitchen stood partly open. It seemed to be split into two parts. The upper part was wide open while the lower was closed. They could hear some kind of argument in progress.

"But MUM," a voice whined, "Ginny's a girl! You said so yourself, she can't play!"

"I changed my mind, Ronald. Your brothers think she's good…"

"They're stupid! She's a GIRL! She's all icky and stuff!!"

"And two of our guests are girls too, and they are going to be on the pitch today," the woman's voice continued.

"BUT MUM! IT'LL RUIN EVERYTHING!! You can't let girls play on our Pitch! YOU CAN'T!!"

"No one said you had to go flying today, Ronald Weasley."

"BUT MUM!!"

"Enough. Ginny flies as do the others. You don't like it, you don't have to fly today!"

"BUT THERE'S NOTHING TO DO! YOU CAN'T LET THEM PLAY. I WON'T ALLOW IT!!!"

"RONALD WEASLEY! THAT'S IT!! LEAVE YOUR BROOM HERE AND GO TO YOUR ROOM!!!"

"WHAT?"

"YOU HEARD ME! GO TO YOUR ROOM … NOW!!"

The noise, while still loud faded and seemed to rise about their heads. Harry and the others saw Fred, George and Ginny quietly open the kitchen door and step out followed by two older boys.

"Hey Mr. Lupin," the oldest said.

"Bill," Remus replied. "Er…"

"Best we head off to the pitch," Bill said. "Mum's gonna be a while."

"How do you know?"

"She put the lunch cooking under a stasis charm," Fred or George said.

"Always bad news. Best thing to do then is run," the other twin said.

"Wh-why?" Harry asked in a small voice paling. He didn't like this Ron kid much, but no one deserved what he had been through.

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said sensing Harry's past was not all gone yet, "she's not gonna hurt you."

Bill picked up on that. "Not gonna hurt Ronny either," he said.

"Cept maybe his eardrums," one of the boys said.

"Second time in three days he set Mum off."

"Not even Fred and George are that stupid," Ginny said.

"Wh-what's going to happen to him?" Harry asked.

"She's gonna yell at him - a lot."

"And can she yell," Fred or George said. "The git should have run the moment she raised her voice."

"Mum told him last time…" the other began.

"One more icky girl comment…"

"She takes all his quidditch stuff…"

"And his broom…"

"And he cannot go outside except to de-gnome the garden until he learns to read."

"Looks like he'll have to learn to read," Ginny said with a smile.

"Looks like we won't have to de-gnome the garden for a long time," one of the twins said with a grin.

"How'm I supposed to concentrate with that ruckus?" a new boy said. He was clearly older than the twins, but younger than the older two boys.

"Gonna join us for some flying Perce?" the younger of the two oldest asked.

"Might as well, Charlie. Can't focus on some of my pranks with that noise. Who's this lot?"

"You know Mr. Lupin, Perce," Bill said.

"Sorry."

"This is Hermione Granger," Remus began. "And these two are Harry and his younger sister Clarice."

"Erm, Granger too?"

"Harry Potter and Clarice Jameson," Ginny said. "Their real parents died in the war and they lived in different house 'til recently."

"Oh. How come we've never met them before?"

"They live in London," Ginny said.

"Explains why they're here to fly, you prat," Fred said.

"Can't bloody well do that in London," George added.

"Sorry," Percy said meekly. "Just annoyed at ickleronniekins."

"Who isn't," Ginny chuckled.

"Right," Bill said. "Pitch and flying! Let's go!"

"Pitch?" Harry asked.

"We got a regulation sized Quidditch pitch hidden in our woods," George said. "Muggles can't find it or see it."

"It's brilliant," Ginny added. "Come on!"

_____________________________________________________________

The "Pitch" was a clearing in a thick wood accessed by well used dirt path. It was and oval shaped clearing, two hundred meters in length and about seventy-five in width. Near either end was a pole with a vertical hoop on top. These were the goals Harry and the others were told.

"Right Gin," Charlie said. "Show me what you got!"

Little Ginny practically squealed! She mounted her broom (an old model Cleansweep) and fairly leapt into the air and began soaring around the pitch at what Hermione thought was a reckless speed. It was the first time Harry, Hermione or Clarice had seen a flying broom and it was impressive. Apparently Ginny was doing well because Charlie was impressed. Charlie pulled a red ball from a bag he had carried into the wood.

"Quaffle Gin!" he called out.

The little girl seemed to turn abruptly and began barreling towards her brother. As she neared, Charlie threw the ball into the air and she caught it with some difficulty but without falling. She sped off towards one of the hoops where Percy seemed to be waiting. She seemed to throw it at Percy and Percy caught it. He tossed it back to her and she caught it with greater ease. She raced out to mid pitch and began speeding towards Percy again. This time, she waited a little longer before throwing. The ball got by Percy who was trying to stop it, but bounced off the ring.

"Nice fake, Gin," Percy said.

"If sis develops a decent throwing arm, she'll make an awesome Chaser," Charlie observed.

Harry looked and saw George and Fred with what looked like stumpy Rounders bats bating a smaller ball back and forth between them as they moved down the pitch. Bill had now joined Ginny in passing the larger red ball and trying to throw it passed Percy.

"What's all this then?" Harry asked.

"Quidditch drills," Charlie said. "Bill and Ginny are playing Chaser. Their job is to try and throw that red ball through the hoop. Perce is playing keeper. His job is to keep that ball from going through the hoop. On a real pitch, there are actually three hoops for him to defend. Fred and George are batting a practice Bludger. In a real game, you hat those at the other team to either hit them or mess them up. Brilliant game!"

"Two different balls?" Harry asked.

"The red ball is a Quaffle. It's just a normal ball. No magic to it at all. You drop it, it falls to the ground and you might have to fly down and scoop it up. The Chasers try and throw it through the hoop. They do and they score ten points for their team.

"The Bludgers are actually charmed. They levitate all the time and move at a constant speed of twenty kilometers per hour. They will travel in a strait line until they hit the Pitch Wards on the sides or over the top of the pitch when they will reflect back in. Now, that assumes they aren't hit with a bat which can both change their direction and speed. They can get going wicked fast. Again, the Beaters both try and protect their team from the Bludgers and try and hit the other team.

"The last ball is this tiny thing," Charlie said holding a golden ball that was a little larger than a large chestnut. "This is the snitch and it's the most magical of all. It can fly in any direction at wicked high speeds and change direction real quick. The Seeker - that's me - spends the game looking for it and if he sees it, trying to catch it. The game continues until this is caught. Once caught, game over and the Seeker's team gets 150 points. Usually, that wins the game, but not always."

"So you actually try and hit people when they're flying?" Hermione asked. "That's barbaric!"

Charlie shrugged. "Can be a rough game. Fred and George are using a practice bludger made out of rubber. Won't hurt you or unseat you if you're hit. Real ones are solid oak with an iron outer shell. Those can hurt you real bad. You want to play real Quidditch, you cannot be afraid of broken bones or the Hospital Wing. We all spend time there. As a Seeker, I'm a prime target. But good seekers rarely get hit. Then again, a good Seeker tries to fly his opposing seeker into the ground more often than not and that is hardly a safe thing to do. One small miscalculation and you're the one who flew yourself into the ground."

"Is this the only reason to fly?" Hermione asked.

"Nah. Many reasons. This is the most exciting thing to do on a broom. But there are loads who just fly along for fun or site seeing. As long as you know how to do it and do it without Muggles seeing you, it is probably the most comfortable and scenic way to travel magically. It's slow compared to Apparition and Portkeys, but not nearly as nauseating."

"Oh."

"If it make you feel any better, Hermione," Remus said, "I'm a decent flyer, but you wouldn't catch me in a Quidditch game."

"Okay," Hermione said feeling a little more confident.

"Now go have some fun, Charlie, while I teach these three the basics."

"Sure you don't want my help?"

"Maybe later."

"Okay. Have fun you lot," the boy said with a gentle smile.

_____________________________________________________________

Within half an hour, the three kids were flying. Harry and Clarice seemed to be naturals at it and were soon off joining the Quidditch game. True, they were not as good as the others, but they were not bad either. Hermione stuck to following Remus around the pitch. She did not mind a nice, gentle flight. Gentle turns, now reckless dives or climbs, certainly no looks or such, just a nice flight. Her broom responded to her touch with ease and, she was told, her model of broom would never get away from her. (Apparently, top notch Quidditch brooms could if the rider was not up to the task, usually with injurious results for said rider.)

She loved the flying bit without the horseplay and was amazed at how easy it was. But she lacked the reckless abandon of the others. Still, she had a wonderful time, especially when Remus performed a Disillusionment Charm on her and she flew off over the country side. Charlie was right. Even if she would not play that silly game, this was better than horseback riding! Remus was with her and they flew over the farms, fields and villages for miles before returning to the pitch a couple of hours later. For some reason, the countryside was much prettier from the air than the ground. It was, however, a good thing Remus was with her. She was certain she would never have found her way back to the pitch by herself. Then again, if she got lost she could always land and shift back to Potter House - or the pitch now that she knew about it.

It was a truly wonderful day for all three of them. They all agreed this flying thing was fun and could not wait to do it again. By the time they stopped for the day, Mrs. Weasley was done with Ron and in a pleasant mood. Remus talked with her about bringing the kids around once a week for some flying and she readily agreed.

"My Ron is so grounded," she said. "Might motivate him to learn to read if the kids come by to go flying. Will drive him spare."

"You sticking by your punishment?" Remus asked.

"Been trying to get that stubborn boy to read for ages. All the others were reading by age six, if not sooner. But not Ronald. Maybe this will finally motivate him. He's smart enough, just refuses to see the point of it. I also told him he better learn now because if he doesn't he won't be going to Hogwarts."

"You didn't!"

"I am not about to send a Weasley there who is incapable of doing the work! He's no mindless troll, but he sure acts like one - a point I made abundantly clear to him this morning - I hope."

TUESDAY, AUGUST 28, 1988 - LONGBOTTOM MANOR NEAR COLNE, LANCASHIRE, U.K.

Clarice was thinking about this "task" ever since Sensei had proposed it. They were here to help a boy Harry's age who in many ways was just like them. His parents, while alive, were not there for him nor could they be. Just like her own real and adoptive parents, the boy had lost that connection to family. He lived alone with his Grandmother and although there were Aunts and Uncles about, there were no cousins his age. Most were already young adults and starting families of their own.

His family thought him to be a Squib, which had a rather bad stigma in magical society. It meant, for all practical purposes, he was an outcast outside of his family. Raised in a Pureblood traditional magical home, he knew nothing of the Muggle World and would find it hard to fit in there at all. But not being magical himself - or so it was believed - he really did not fit in within the Wizarding World either. The poor boy was eight years old and had never had a friend his own age.

Clarice had just finished reading a book Hermione had recommended. It two was about a boy about the same age as Neville and Harry, maybe a little older. That boy was a Muggle, but it did not matter. The nature of personal relationships and emotions are the same everywhere. That boy lived in a huge, lonely manor. His father was alive, but was seldom around and not particularly affectionate when he was. His mother had died years ago and most of his contact with the rest of the world was with servants.

The boy was believed to be sickly and treated as such. He seldom ever left his huge room. He was confined to a wheel chair when he was mobile at all. Enter a girl his own age. She was his cousin and had lived abroad her whole life until her parents died of illness and she was sent to live with her Uncle. She became the boy's friend and led him on adventures on the grounds that would have scandalized the father. In particular, the two snuck out (him in his wheel chair) and found a hidden and rundown garden. They were enthralled with it and spent the summer fixing it, throughout that time the boy learned he was not truly sickly. The garden was restored and with it the boy. With that, so was the father who had lost all hope following the death of the beloved wife, for whom he long ago had built the garden.

It was not exactly like The Secret Garden, Clarice thought, but there were parallels if what they had been told about Neville was true. They were here to rescue a boy from loneliness and self doubt, just as the heroine of that book had done. It was, in Clarice's opinion, a noble cause. Still, she and the others were nervous as they stood at the gates of Longbottom Manor hoping for admittance. They had sort of invited themselves over. It was under the guise of a social call by Remus and Sirius to Madam Augusta Longbottom, the boys paternal Aunt and now the Dowager of House Longbottom. The gates to Longbottom Manor soon opened and the five of them entered to begin yet another long walk up a tree lined drive.

_____________________________________________________________

The three children were introduced to Augusta Longbottom, Dowager and Regent of the House Longbottom. She seemed like she could make their Aunt Minnie seem like the giddy, giggling schoolgirl, but she also seemed to be in a wonderful mood. She dismissed the children after the formal introductions to visit with old friends and suggested they head out to the lake through a path and beyond the woods. She was sure her grandson was there as he was almost always there if he was not scouring the woods for interesting plants and such.

The three children walked along the path through the dense woods. Harry and Hermione were as almost always holding each other's hand while Clarice led the way for now. She usually walked on one side or the other and was not above holding hands with either of them on occasion. But the part was too narrow for three abreast. They soon passed beyond the wood and entered upon the banks of a large lake. Harry scanned for the boy in question and noted a lone figure seated beneath a spreading oak tree about a hundred or so yards distant. The figure seemed to be reading a book and had not noticed their arrival yet. Harry pointed the figure out to the others and they nodded. The three walked forward slowly.

"Hello," Clarice said softly as they got close hoping not to startle the boy. She was unsuccessful.

"Bloody hell!" the boy exclaimed. He was about their age with dark brown hair, matching eyes and a cherub like face still flushed with baby fat - the kind of face an annoying Aunt would love to pinch the cheeks as she cooed over the blushing lad.

"I'm Clarice," she said. "This is my big brother Harry - although he's barely a year older than me and our best friend Hermione - although she's Harry's best best friend and only my best friend, but there you go. You must be Neville."

"How'd you know that?" the boy asked.

"Logic," Hermione said. "This is a warded Manor and your Gran said you were out here by the lake."

"Oh. And - sorry - but why are you here?"

"My Godfather is paying his respects," Harry said. "Your Gran shooed us out to find you…"

"She want's me back now?"

"No. She wants us out here I guess."

"Oh."

The three sat down on the ground.

"This is a lovely place," Clarice observed. "We have a nice place in London, but nothing like this."

"Er," Neville said. "I suppose. London you say?"

The three nodded. "Right off Hyde Park," Hermione said. "Quite nice. But we have no private lake. You like it here?"

"I suppose. I like this tree," Neville said. "But you must have loads of friends there. I don't have any here."

"We could be your friends," Harry said.

Neville nodded. "Wh-why would you want to be friends with me? I'm not much of a …"

"Not much of a what?" Harry asked.

"Are you three," Neville began, "are you three witches and wizard?"

"Yep," Harry said.

"Course we didn't know that until a few months ago," Clarice added.

"You didn't?"

"Nope."

"You didn't do magic until then?"

"Oh we did," Hermione said. "But until a few months ago we didn't know it was magic. You see the three of us were all raised in the Muggle world."

"Muggle Borns?"

"No, Muggle raised. Long story."

"I like stories. Specially true ones."

"My real Mum and Dad were killed during the war," Hermione said. "Harry and Clarice's real Mum and Dad were too. We all got sent to live with Muggles. All our real parents were magical, but they died when we were very little. I was barely two when mine were killed. Harry and Clarice were much younger."

"I lost my parents too," Neville said. "Same time, I guess. I was just a baby."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said sympathetically.

"Oh, they're not dead," Neville said. "They're just not really alive. Might be worse, I don't know. Gran takes me to see them but they can't talk or - or know me or nothing."

"You have any friends?" Clarice asked after a long and awkward pause.

"No, not really," Neville replied. "For a long time my family thought I was a Squib. You know what that is?"

The three nodded.

"I was raised magical and never did magic accidental or what. Can't be a Muggle but wizards and such don't like Squibs much so … Gran felt it was best not to let me get my hopes up there. Don't get me wrong - she's been wonderful to me. Still…"

"Still," Harry said softly in agreement. "Um … you're not a Squib?"

"Nope. My Uncle Algie kept trying to make me do magic. He was right nasty about it in a nice way, I guess. Couple weeks ago he grabbed me and took me to the highest window in the Manor and told me he was going to chuck me out the window."

"Why would he do that?" Clarice asked in horror.

"Accidental magic," Hermione said. "Scare him witless and…"

"Worked for me," Harry added.

"Uncle Algie was always trying to prove I was a wizard," Neville said softly. "But he never really did anything truly terrifying to me. Okay, he did chuck me off the pier in Blackpool, but… Well that wasn't all that bad although the water was really cold and I couldn't swim. Anyway, as Uncle Algie dangled me out the window, my Great Aunt Enid walked in and scared him but good and he dropped me from five floors up."

"Goodness!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I bounced!" Neville said with more than a hint of pride. "And bounced and bounced! Would have been totally brilliant had I not gotten sick from it."

"Sick?"

"Lost my breakfast."

"Oh."

"Gran was so proud. She was so worried 'bout me until then. Still…"

"What?"

"I'm eight! Accidental magic happens much sooner so I must be a really pathetic wizard."

"Why?"

"You three must have done magic much younger."

"Can't say," Harry said. "My Muggle relatives never told me about magic or nothing. They just said I could never have friends 'cause I was a Freak."

"Are all Muggles like that?" Neville asked.

"No!" Hermione and Clarice answered in unison.

"We were also Muggle raised," Hermione said. "We didn't have any friends, but our Muggle parents loved or love us."

"Speak for yourself," Harry said. "My Aunt and Uncle hated me and wished I was dead. Nearly had their dream come true. According to the doctors and Healers I've seen, they nearly killed me."

"Why?" Neville asked.

"They hated magic, I guess," Harry replied.

"Are all Muggles that way?" Neville asked.

"No," Hermione said. "Most are not. Harry's Aunt and Uncle were mean and evil, but they were not normal."

"They thought they were," Harry said.

"THEY WERE NOT!" Hermione said. "My Mum and Dad adopted me. Their Muggles. Are they mean and evil?"

"No."

"They are wonderful people," Clarice added. "They took Harry and I in when we had no one and - wow! I lost my adoptive parents. My real parents were long dead. My Dad - the one I knew - got real sick and died almost two years ago. In May, my Mum was driving me to school when we were in a car crash. I was hurt bad and sent to Hospital. My adoptive mum died. I lost everything and everyone I knew and the Grangers took me in to be with Hermione and my brother Harry. It was a hard time for me. Still is at times. But between them and my brother and best friend, it was okay in the end. Sad to think that for me to find friends and have a real family, I had to lose the only family I knew and the only people who liked and loved me 'til then. But that's what happened."

"So you three haven't been together long?" Neville asked.

"Last May," Harry said, "my Uncle hurt me really bad. I was told by rights I should have died. They left me to die. But I somehow lived. Hermione and her family found me and sent me to hospital and I lived. Odd that, when you think of it."

"Why?"

"Well, I lived in Surrey. Hermione and the Grangers lived in Essex. Dumb luck we would meet in a way - although I really don't remember much before I woke up a week or so later."

"I lived in London," Clarice said. "By chance I was sent to the same hospital Harry was at when my Mum died. They found out that Harry and I were really brother and sister when they went through the papers or some such."

"By then," Hermione continued, "my folks had already agreed to take Harry in and they would not allow that to happen unless we agreed to take Clarice too."

"So you never met before then?" Neville asked.

The three shook their heads.

"None of us had a friend before we met," Clarice said.

"Really?"

"Really," Harry said. "I wasn't allowed to before I was really hurt and the Grangers took me in. Hermione and Clarice were scary smart - still are…"

"You're not slouch," Clarice said.

"I know. But I kept my head down then. Being scary smart meant a beating then."

"And now?" Neville asked.

"It means I have these two to contend with for who is more scary smart," Harry chuckled.

"I'm not that smart," Neville moped.

"What makes you say that?" Clarice asked.

"Cause I don't do magic much."

"That has nothing to do with smarts," Hermione said. "That's just training and practice. Smarts is understanding the theory not the practice."

"I'd listen to her Neville," Harry said. "She really is scary smart."

"I suppose. I'm still not much of a wizard though, not for my age at least."

"What makes you say that?" Clarice asked.

"Had to be dropped out a window a couple weeks ago to show I was magical at all, that's what," Neville said in embarrassment.

"You want to be a wizard?" Harry asked. "A good one?"

Neville nodded.

"We can maybe help you there," Clarice said. "But only if you want to be our friend."

"I'd like that," Neville said.

"The friend part or magical part?" Clarice asked.

"Friends," Neville said. "Without friends, who cares?"

"We'd like to be your friends, Neville," Harry said honestly.

"You would?"

The three children nodded.

"I'd like that."

"Friends it is then," Harry announced.

"We can show you stuff," Hermione added.

"Wh-what kind of stuff?"

"How to do magic without an Uncle trying to toss you from high places," Harry chuckled.

"You can?"

"It's not all that hard," Harry said. "You be our friend and we'll show you. We can show you loads of stuff. And you can show us what you know and stuff.""I'd like that," Neville said. "I'd like to have you all as my friends."

"And you are," Clarice said. "You wanna see some cool stuff?"

"Sure?"

By the end of their visit, Neville had his first real friends.

__________________________________________________________

Sensei had watched the whole day transpire and watched little Neville begin to come out of his shell. Harry and company got him doing some very basic controlled wandless magic within an hour or so and he showed them his secret garden of magical plants and such. Not even his Gran knew about it. He had never shown anyone his private garden before, but it was clear he was thrilled to do so.

It was quite impressive for an eight year old boy. Sensei was no longer surprised at how Neville seemed to be a natural in Herbology at school. The lad had a talent for it and was raising even a few of the N.E.W.T. level plants at age eight without difficulty. The kid could even tell his new friends why they were important and what they were used for without hesitating or consulting an book.

But to Sensei's amusement, it was not all about magic and knowledge. The four children also played around and acted like children should. It was obvious from Neville's face that he had just had the day of his life. He had learned he was a decent wizard in terms of ability and actually knew more about some stuff than his new and smart friends. But he also learned how to have fun as they played non-magical games as well.

It was wonderful to see the formerly friendless boy have a day in the sun with his new friends and act like both the boy that he was and the wizard that he could be. Neville now had found friends. He had found friends for life.

The best moment, in Sensei's opinion, was later. The kids were again outside playing after a lunch in the Manor. It was obvious that Neville's Gran had seen something in her Grandson. She insisted that the relationship continue and Sirius and Remus promised that it would. Neville would be granted access through the Potter House wards and Harry. Hermione and Clarice would be granted similar access to Longbottom Manor.

Maybe the Neville of Sensei's time was now going to be different. This Neville was being encouraged and now had friends. The timid boy of the future that Sensei remembered might now be what he could have been much earlier.

What was more important was that this Nevile seemed to have been found at the right time. He was no longer the Squib, but a promising young wizard in the eyes of his surviving family.

A/N:

1. Again sorry for the delay. This chapter gave me fits. Originally (See Ch. 24 A/N) this was supposed to be simple. Harry & Co. befriend Neville and Luna. Obviously one bit is missing. I realized I gave the kids brooms but no flying lessons (and I know that would irk you if I left that bit out 'cause it did me.) Moreover, Harry & Co. will not meet Luna until after Hermione's B-day, and I can't skip that can I? It's her first real one with friends! So, add a chapter to my estimate.

2. This is NOT a bash Ron Weasley fic! He is eight years old right now and is probably the ONLY kid who truly is acting his age for the most part. He is - for now - a selfish little snot, but he will grow up in time. However, he will not be Harry's best mate... that's Hermione's role with Clarice a close second.