IN ALL BUT BLOOD
"Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead — anyway, got yeh this …"
It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from nearly every page were his mother and father. There were many photos of them with what Harry assumed to be his parents friends.
"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos … knew yeh didn' have any … d'yeh like it?"
Harry couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood.
(Chapter 17 – PS)
Chapter 1 - Intro
Harry sat in his Hospital Bed looking over the photos, drinking in every detail he could see with each photo.
He turned a page to find a photo of his mum and dad with another couple. The other couple were smiling and waving at the photographer along with his parents. His mum was clearly heavily pregnant with him, and so was the other unnamed lady.
"You've got another visitor Mr Potter," said the voice of Madam Pomfrey.
Harry looked up, surprised. So engrossed in the photo album, he had forgotten he was in the Hospital Wing.
"Who?" he asked.
"Young Neville Longbottom wishes to speak with you," she remarked.
Harry felt dread and regret right away. The last time he saw Neville, Hermione had made him immobile for trying to prevent them from saving the stone.
"Send him in," he choked out. He felt like he owed the kind-hearted boy an apology.
It ended up being the other way round. Because Neville had been involved in trying to preventing them from going out, Dumbledore had informed him of the full details of what happened so he could understand why they were heading out.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he sniffled. "If it wasn't for Hermione petrifying me, You-Know-Who would have come back and taken over. I'm so sorry."
"No, Neville," said Harry. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have treated you that way. Maybe if we actually explained things to you, you could have helped us. Me and you would have brought down Voldemort together."
Harry sat up straighter in his bed, accidentally letting his photo album turn over and land in front of Neville's eyes.
Neville's face suddenly went from cheerful to shock. He was staring at the photo of Harry's parents and the couple they were with.
"Are you okay, Neville?" asked Harry, feeling worried at the sudden change.
"That's my mum and dad," he whispered.
"In the photo?" asked Harry.
He moved down the bed and looked back at the photo. His and Neville's heads were almost touching.
He could now see the resemblance. Neville very much had his mum's round, friendly face and his dad's hair.
Then he realised something else.
"We're in the photo too Neville," he whispered, pointing at their mums pregnancy.
Harry and Neville looked at each other and smiled.
"Maybe we knew each other as babies," offered Harry.
"Well, I am just one day older than you, Harry," said Neville. "I'm July thirtieth."
"How do you know my birthday?" asked Harry.
"Everyone does," said Neville simply.
"Can I meet your mum and dad, Neville?" asked Harry. "They'd probably have plenty of stories about my parents."
The smile vanished from Neville's face and he suddenly became quite distraught. He made to leave but Harry wasn't having that.
"Neville, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Harry suddenly understood. At least he thought he did.
"Are they dead?"
"No," said Neville, now on the verge of tears. "They're insane."
And with that Neville burst out crying.
Harry wasn't comfortable with his crying friend, so he did the only thing he could think of. He eased Neville onto his bed and just sat there opposite him patiently.
"What do you mean?" asked Harry gently.
Gulping, Neville spoke. "After You-Know-Who's defeat, his followers attacked my parents. They believed they knew where he was. The attack left my parents insane. They don't recognise me."
The last part was said quietly, almost a whisper.
"We're both orphans," said Harry softly.
He didn't know why he did what he chose to do. He climbed into the bed next to Neville, their heads almost touching. They both stared up at the ceiling above them. Words seemed to fail them.
Madam Pomfrey turned up five minutes later to tell Neville to leave, only to find the two eleven year old boys curled up together sleeping.
She smiled and decided to come back in an hours time. The feast wasn't on for another six hours anyway.
lIlIlIl
When Dumbledore awarded ten points to Neville at the Leaving Feast, Harry was the first to hug him. He held onto Neville for ten seconds before letting go, letting Fred and George get in their own congratulations and a few others too.
For the next few days, Harry spent as much time as possible with Neville. They had become close friends very fast. Ron was jealous at first, but Hermione had pulled him away and told him Harry could be friends with anyone before he might blow up.
Harry found it very easy to be friends with Neville. Despite his shyness, Neville was very easy-going person who wasn't loud, brash and obnoxious like Ron. He liked his peace and quiet, but had very much wanted a friend when growing up. Harry felt more connected to him than Ron.
On the Hogwarts Express going home, Harry dragged Neville into the compartment he was sharing with Ron and Hermione. They played exploding snap with each other. Harry and Neville against Ron and Hermione. They talked and laughed throughout the trip, and also eating the sweets they bought off the trolley lady.
Before they knew it they were wearing their jackets and coats; and pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.
It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.
"Harry, would you like to come and stay at home sometime during the Summer," asked Neville.
"Yes, I would," smiled Harry. "Is your grandmother here to pick you up?"
Neville smirked. "Look for the vulture."
He, Neville, and Hermione passed through the gateway together. Ron was right behind them with a scowl.
"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"
It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.
"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see —"
"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point."
Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.
"Busy year?" she said.
"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."
"Oh, it was nothing, dear," she smiled back.
Neville had since left them. Harry looked around for him. He couldn't see him, but then he saw the pointed hat decorated with what was unmistakably a stuffed vulture.
Realising this was Neville's grandmother, he made his way over to the hat.
"Neville, care to introduce me," he said, finding his friend standing by the formidable looking witch.
"Friend of yours, Neville, dear?" said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon Harry.
"Ah, yes," said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shriveled, clawlike hand for him to shake. "Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. The last time I saw you you were just a little baby. You have grown up so much Mr Potter."
"Er — thanks," said Harry, shaking hands.
"Are your guardians here, young man?"
As if on cue, Uncle Vernon's voice cut in.
"Ready, are you?"
Purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry.
"Are you Harry's family?" asked Mrs. Longbottom.
"He is not family!" bristled Uncle Vernon. "Just a burden."
That was enough for the elderly lady to hear.
"Mark my words, sir," she said menacingly. "If you say another insult about him I shall come around to your house and you shall be target practice. Do we understand each other?"
Uncle Vernon was shaking with fright, and Harry understood why. If this lady would wear clothes like this in public she would wear it to Privet Drive. There was no way the Dursley's would want her near their house.
He promised to write Neville, thanked Mrs. Longbottom, and followed his now-fleeing family out of the station.
Once they got into the car, Vernon cleared his throat before driving.
"Boy, was that a real vulture?" he asked, a quiver in his voice.
Seeing his opportunity, Harry smiled. "It's actually still alive. It yells at people to stay away from her."
AN: Welcome to my new story. I have always preferred the friendship between Harry and Neville. Neither had a sibling growing up and it just makes sense to me that they would be each others. And I find Neville to be a nicer, more interesting friend than Ron Weasley. I don't hate Ron anymore, but I don't think he was the right friend for Harry. He has too much jealousy issues. I will be focusing on both HP: Prank Connoisseur and In All But Blood so updates will be in between.