Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings, or worlds within this work, outside of a few OC's. Any recognizable characters are not mine; I'm just playing with them. Harry Potter and its associated works belongs to J.K. Rowling. X-men and Marvel belongs to... er... Disney, I suppose? I am not making any money off of this fan work, nor do I wish to.

Chapter 2

Neville

Augusta Longbottom watched her young grandson as he toddled across the lawn. Little Neville ambled curiously over the grass, pausing on occasion as some interesting thing or other caught his eye.

"Such a quiet little boy," she thought to herself. "Nothing like Frank at that age. Fearless little rascal, that boy was." She smirked at the memory of a small Frank Longbottom running into a wild house-cat.

He'd waltzed right up to the cat to say hello, hoping to make friends with it-only to find himself being hissed and snarled at for his troubles. Dear Frank, silly brave child, had hissed and snarled right back at it, and accidentally used magic to make himself look bigger, startling the feline in the process so that it turned tail and ran off into the forest. Frank was rather upset at that, and had needed to be calmed down afterwards, but it had made for a good laugh at the dinner table that evening.

Augusta smiled wryly. "I always knew he was meant for great acts of bravery. Wasn't surprised in the slightest when he announced he wanted to become an auror."

Her face tightened, then. "Though perhaps he would have been better off in the end if he hadn't. Maybe then he and Alice wouldn't be in this mess..."

She shook herself and frowned at the direction her thoughts had taken. "No," she decided firmly. "He made his choice, and I've always been proud of him for it. I'd certainly have been less than pleased if ever he did put his own safety above another's. No, it's best he chose as he did." Satisfied with her introspection, she returned her attention to her ward.

Neville had finished his exploration of the lawn, and was now moving to investigate the footpath which led to the gardens. He stopped to study each stone as he came across it, stepping slowly as he went so as to avoid missing anything important.

"He really is such a quiet little boy" thought Augusta again. "I wonder when we'll start to see him do magic? He really should have been showing signs by now. Perhaps he's-...No. No, I'm jumping to conclusions. I'm sure he's a perfectly fine wizard. Besides-" Something odd caught her attention as she looked at the lawn.

"Is it just me or was some of that grass shorter a few minutes ago?" She wondered, peering down at the yard. She studied the patches of grass in question, then shook her head. "The house elves must have forgotten that the lawn needs trimming more often during the summer months," she decided. "I suppose I'll have to remind them about that."

Unknown to Augusta, the elves had, in fact, trimmed the grass just that morning, and were themselves quite surprised to find that their work had been undone. It was a mystery among them for quite some time, particularly as they found that the problem persisted, especially on particularly sunny days. Nobody made the connection between the odd lawn-growth and the days when the Young Master went outside, but soon it simply became a part of the regular weekly routine- cut the grass, complete the rest of the chores, go check to make sure it doesn't need cutting again.

Everybody amongst the Longbottom family and their friends knew the story of how Neville's accidental magic was (finally) awakened: his great-uncle dropped him out of the upstairs window, and his accidental magic reacted and made him bounce.

What they didn't notice, at the time, being somewhat distracted with Neville himself, was how a small potted plant in the corner of the room shot up several inches, overgrowing its pot, its leafy limbs stretching out in the direction of the window.

When the plant was discovered later, its strange appearance was waved off as an oddity of growing in a magical house, and it was summarily transferred to a larger pot and forgotten.

Neville studied the little flower bud- ...well, ex-flower bud, he supposed; it was a full-grown flower now- in bewilderment. He had gone into the garden today to look after the flowers, but it seemed perhaps he was looking after them a bit too well, if they were suddenly growing a dozen times faster than they should. This particular flower hadn't been due to open its petals for another two days.

"My magic is so odd sometimes," he thought.

It was a few weeks after the infamous Window Incident and, to be honest, Neville was still just downright relieved that he was magical at all. However, his relief did not prevent him from recognizing that, accidental magic aside, his affinity to plants was downright... weird. No matter how good they were with plants, even the best herbologists in history still had to work at it.

While it was technically possible to just make plants grow with magic, it was not a recommended route. The resulting plant would be extremely weak, prone to diseases, and too overloaded with magical energy already to be of any proper use. So it was considered plain common sense to let the plants grow on their own time, and simply use magic to guide their growth and ensure good care.

His magic didn't seem to get the memo. Ever since the Window Incident, plants just seemed to grow faster around Neville, whether he wanted them to or not. An unusual manifestation of accidental magic, he supposed. But here's where it started to get- odd... By rights, because his plants are being sped up with magic, they should have fallen apart by now from being over-magicked. And yet... the plants he grew seemed to be stronger, and more potent instead of less, which... really didn't make sense. It defied almost everything he knew about good Herbology.

"Though I suppose in the grand scheme of things, I don't really know all that much about anything yet. That's what Hogwarts is for, after all."

Neville smiled. Hogwarts.

Wizarding school.

With magic.

He was going to magic school. Because he had magic now.

He was so happy not to be a squib. He was a bit nervous to think what his uncle might have tried next.

The plants around him started quivering in excitement. Neville froze, and the plants did too. He rolled his eyes. "Here we go again, I guess."

"My magic really is so odd sometimes."

Some time during first year...

Neville stared morosely into his bright magenta-colored potion.

It was supposed to be a deep navy blue.

"This is the third time this month that I've managed to muck up a potion this badly, even after doing everything right," he thought in a panic, "and I've no idea why. I know I followed the recipe. I know I got the right ingredients. I know I did it right, so why-" his train of thought was brought to a halt as a dark, menacing presence loomed over his desk. Neville looked up, fingers growing shaky.

"You know, sometimes I think he does this on purpose because he likes being dramatic."

Professor Snape glared down into Neville's cauldron. "And just what potion did you think we were brewing today, Mr. Longbottom?" asked Snape with a sneer.

"Lightning Protection Potion, professor. It... it- it protects you from... from being electrocuted," Neville answered quietly, voice barely louder than a whisper.

"So you were listening to the class lecture, then."

"Yes, sir."

"Hm. If that is the case, then perhaps you would care to explain why the substance within your cauldron appears to be far more likely to cause electrocution than to prevent it?"

Neville blinked at Snape in bewilderment. Cause an electrocution?

He looked down at his cauldron just in time to see the contents begin popping madly, small bolts of lightning sparking within it, occurring faster and faster and faster-

Neville ducked for cover, and Snape threw a shield over the cauldron just in time, as the entirety of its contents suddenly flared up in a bright mass, hundreds of bolts of electricity flashing brightly like a giant electrified firework show. The mass of energy kept sparking for a minute or two, then finally the reaction began to die down, until all that was left was a charred black-and-magenta mass of fried goo splattered all over the brewing stand.

All was silent for a long moment, then Snape huffed in irritation, removed the shield, and vanished the dying remains of Neville's... concoction.

"A point from Gryffindor I should think, Mr. Longbottom, and a 16-inch comparison between snapdragon stems and snapdragon petals, and the differences in how they react within electric-based brews. Your essay is due on my desk at the beginning of next class."

Having said his piece, Snape moved away to loom over the other students, leaving Neville to mourn the loss of yet another potion.

Wait.

"Did he say...petals?"

Neville glanced at the floor, where most of his ingredients had ended up during the commotion. Sure enough, there amidst what was left of his pile of chopped snapdragon-stems, several of the stems had grown and sprouted a few fresh flowers. No wonder the potion had reacted so badly, if those flowers had grown inside the cauldron...

He groaned and let his head fall forward onto the desk. "My strange accidental magic strikes again. No wonder I mess up every potion I try."

"Sometimes I wonder if it even is magic, this weird thing with the plants. It feels...different, somehow. Almost like it comes from something else, a different part of me that's separate from the magic. or something..."

He frowned at that thought. "Well now you're just being far-fetched," he chided himself. "A different part of me? Not magic? What else could it possibly be!"

His magic is really, really odd sometimes.

Ugh.

During the summer after Neville's second year at Hogwarts...

"This can't be happening."

He closed his eyes. He counted to ten, then opened his eyes again. No change.

"This really can't be happening."

Neville had been doing well this summer, really. His homework was easier for him to understand than last year, now that he'd gotten more used to it. His toad hadn't gotten lost in weeks. His tulips were growing well...a bit too well, come to think of it, but that wasn't particularly unusual...

Huh. Maybe he should've been expecting something like this, after all. It would be just his luck.

There, by his bedroom window, was a flower.

A giant flower.

A giant flower that looked very much like an enlarged version of one of his Grandmother's special begonias, growing tall and strong and inside his bedroom.

You'd think Neville would be used to this by now, but frankly, he was just... Tired. Of everything. He'd been doing research for the last two years into multiple varieties of plant magics in all the libraries he came across, trying to figure out why he had such a strong power over plants, and come up empty. Oh, sure, there were descriptions of different magical affinities, and how they could affect a person's natural talents for different things, but there was nothing in there about random bursts of accidental magic making plants grow faster.

Or reach ridiculously large sizes, for that matter.

He sighed, and decided he might as well get up. Ignoring the elephantine begonia in the room, he prepared for the day, and went downstairs to see what the elves had made for breakfast.

His grandmother was already at the table, a copy of the Daily Prophet spread before her.

Breakfast was oatmeal. Not his favorite, but not a bad start to the day. Until he felt something- an odd feeling- push through his body, and suddenly the oatmeal in his bowl sprouted. The newspaper rustled as his grandmother startled, pulling the advertisement pages away from her face to stare down at her own bowl of sprouting oatmeal. "What on earth?"

Neville really hoped he hadn't sprouted the oatmeal that was in her stomach. That would probably be rather uncomfortable.

Augusta Longbottom stared at her bowl of oat sprouts. She glanced to Neville and took in his oddly guilty face.

"A bit old for magical accidents, aren't you?"

Neville grimaced. "I, um..."

"Would this have anything to do with why my begonias seem to have crossed themselves with giants in the night?"

Neville cringed. "I- uh." ...he couldn't think of anything decent to say to that. So he switched from looking at his grandmother to staring into his bowl of oat sprouts.

Very nice sprouts, those. Quite lovely. Oh dear, they were still growing. Well, in for a knut, in for a sickle, he supposed.

Augusta was silent for a moment, studying her grandson. "He doesn't look surprised to find his oats sprouting out of the blue. He knows what this is. This isn't something new, it's been going on long enough that he expects it."

"Neville."

Neville shifted in his seat and moved his gaze to just over her shoulder.

"Neville... Is something wrong? What- what is going on? Are you ill?"

Neville sighed and laid his head against the back of his chair, closing his eyes. "No, Gran. I'm not ill."

"Are you... experimenting with some strange potion? A magical magnifier, perhaps? Exstimulo Potion?"

"No, Gran, I don't- I wouldn't!" ...I'm not good enough with Potions to try making something like that anyways.

"Hmm... Perhaps you're having an unusual allergic reaction to somethi-"

Neville actually growled in frustration, surprising himself, and startling his grandmother into silence. "No, Gran, that's not it! None of it- this isn't-I don't. I'm not...I...Ugh!"

As his agitation rose, all the potted plants in the house, along with the oat sprouts, began to writhe in agitation. It was in this moment that Neville realized that not only was he making things grow, but he could feel all the plants that were nearby. There was the honeysuckle by the window, the rhododendrons by the front door, the wisteria grown along the outside of the terrace... He could even feel the grass on the edge of the lawn nearest to this side of the house.

"I need to get out of here. Preferably before I overrun the house with plants."

He stood abruptly and ran out the door. His grandmother called after him, but he paid her no mind, doing his best to ignore the twinge of guilt at just leaving her hanging like that. But getting out of the building was more important than being respectful. Even now, as he strode across the lawn, the grass rose up to meet him in a strange swirling mass.

...He was starting to reconsider that thought he'd had during that infamous (well, infamous in his mind, anyways) potions class a while back. Maybe this really was something other than magic, as strange as that sounded. Because honestly?

This...whatever it was, didn't feel like magic. He'd been around magic his whole life, he'd been studying magic for two years now, and he knew what magic felt like. This ability with the plants felt different, other, in a way he'd never encountered before. It was also easier than magic- easy as breathing almost, to nudge a seed into sprouting sooner, to push a fruit into growing bigger, to feel all the life that surrounded him in a garden or a greenhouse...

No. This wasn't magic. It couldn't be.

"And if it's not a wizarding power, then what is it? And if I can use this power, even though it's not magic..."

"What... What am I?"

Author's Note:

-Last chapter I mentioned that I'd be posting characters' chapters in order of mutation development. While that's technically accurate, it should be noted that Neville's mutation has been showing up in little ways since he was a small child, growing gradually over time rather than having an abrupt awakening, and he's known about them since he was ten or so.
On the other hand, Chapter 3's character's mutant abilities show up suddenly, powerfully, out of the blue. While he has had some degree of minor mutant-power-use incidents throughout his childhood, it's not nearly to the same degree as Neville, and with maybe one other instance of serious use prior to "the big moment" when his powers fully awaken and he becomes aware of them.

So while Chapter 3's character has his "official mutant awakening" before Neville does, you could also say that Neville technically developed his mutation first even if it didn't start to develop into its full strength until he was a bit older. I could honestly write these two chapters either way and they would both be in the correct order depending on how you look at it. So part of the character chapter-order is "when did the mutation activate" and the other part is "when did the character first realize there was something weird about them/their ability."

I felt the need to clarify this. It probably won't matter to anybody else but me, but if I hadn't explained this particular issue, it would have kept bugging me until I posted an AN about it anyway. So I figured I'd get this out of the way now so I stop proactively fixating on this particular issue and can focus on actually writing the thing. :P

-Sorry if Snape is weird...

As I said in the Prologue Author's Note, I haven't actually read or watched Harry Potter, so all my knowledge comes from fanfiction... However, there are so many different characterizations for Snape throughout the fandom (ranging from being Evil, Snarky, and Disturbing all the time, to being simply a Misunderstood Sarcastic Good Guy Who Just Wants His Students To Listen To Him Even If He Does Hate Teaching.

I personally suspect that the True Snape lies somewhere in-between... but that doesn't really help me much for discerning how he acts in his role as a teacher. I don't know for certain how he acts towards Neville in the books, so I just went with what felt right for the scene I was depicting.

-As with Luna Lovegood, a description of Neville's mutant ability will be posted to my profile for anyone interested. It should be fairly self-explanatory, but if you're like me and want to know more specific details, it'll be there.