The Boys Who Lived

A/N - first i'd like to point out that haven't written any fanfiction of any sort since i was 13, so i'm fairly sure this wont be a one-hit wonder success. secondly, it'll also be the first fanfic i've ever done that wasn't based on anime, much less with english type slang that i've been seeing on the Portkey. well, here goes...oh right, fyi this is AU. definitely definitely AU.

The Boys Who Lived

Prologue

The noise the picture frame made as it shattered was the first sign that something was wrong. For James, even an image of his wife falling off of the Ministry desk was enough to fill him with supernatural dread.

Funny that the word supernatural came into play. For indeed James and many of the people he called his friends were above the ordinary. They were wizards and witches, each powerful in their own right. Each with the strongest trust in each other.

And all of them had the strongest of enemies after their very lives.

With a sickening feeling deep in his gut James had shoved himself away from his desk. Away from fellow Aurors who tried to ask him what was the matter. Away from the Ministry of Magic itself as he charged towards the nearest apparation point.

James and Lily Potter had known for a few weeks now that Lord Voldemort would be hunting them specifically. Albus Dumbledore himself had warned them of the danger. Of the Prophecy that was made. He had it on very good authority that the Dark Lord had heard of the words spoken on that fateful night, and he urged the Potters to take precautions. The problem was that depending on the interpretation, the Prophecy might not have been about them at all. But Dumbledore had hypothesized, and everybody had agreed. James Potter was simply more talented, more of a threat than Frank Longbottom and his newborn son Neville.

In hindsight, it was almost laughable that Voldemort had disagreed.

As James apparated to the Longbottom's humble home, he sank to his knees as he surveyed the carnage before him. The house itself was in flames, the Dark Mark hovering like a bright, terrible beacon above it. There were screams, oh yes, there were screams. While James had been working tirelessly against the forces of Darkness, Lily would have spent the nights with her closest friends. Since Frank was taking a long deserved, yet short break from his duties, he and Alice had spent the last few nights entertaining her and her son.

Their bodies were unmarred, for the most terrible of the Unforgivable Curses left no mark on its victims. Even now James was lost in her beauty even as he cradled her lifeless body in his arms. It wasn't until he finally ran out of voice, out of strength, that he noticed that the cries weren't stopping.

Gingerly he carried his dead wife in his arms as he stepped over the wreckage. With a quick spell he tossed a piece of rubble off to the side, to uncover a lone crib, in which two one-year old infants lay bawling.

Harry, he thought. Harry is alive! For long moments he simply stared at the crib as his heart momentarily lifted at the thought that his son was amongst the living...and judging from the strength of his lungs so was young Neville.

The distinctive sound of a wizard arriving by portkey broke him out of his reverie in time to notice a large hand clamping down on his shoulder. He looked over to see Hagrid, Hogwart's faithful gamekeeper staring down at him.

"It's good that yer still among the livin' young Potter," Hagrid mumbled to cover his suprise at seeing James there. His normally booming voice was quiet as he looked down at the wizard. In his hands he held an ordinary looking spoon, which he jabbed towards the motionless figure. "Lily and the Longbottoms...are they.."

As James looked on speechless, Hagrid coughed and tossed the spoon over his shoulder, shaking his head. "Dumbledore sent me," he explained, straightening. "Soon as he got word."

He clapped his hand against James' shoulder and moved off towards the crib. Reaching inside with both arms he cradled the two infants to his chest then moved back to where James was still kneeling. As he did, a rumbling noise separated itself from the background hubbub and steadily gained in volume. Moments later a flying motorcycle dropped from the sky and a lanky figure dismounted and dashed over.

"James!" came the worried voice. "James are you okay?" The man stumbled and skidded to a stop as he approached the two. "That's not Lily is it..? She's not..." he voice trailed off.

"She's dead, Sirius," James said, his voice barely a whisper. "It's all my fault...I should have been there for her..."

"Nonsense!" Hagrid boomed. "If you were here you woulda been smashed too!" He belatedly turned and greeted the newcomer. "Sorry, but if you'll excuse me. James, I'll leave young Harry to you. I've got to get young Longbottom to his grandmother."

"I'll help you Hagrid," Sirius said with a quick glance at James.

"Sorry. Dumbledore's orders, best get m'self on my way now."

"Oh," Sirius looked at a lost for words, his eyes taking in the wreckage. He looked up at Hagrid again, "Take my bike then. It'll help you get there faster since you can't apparate."

"Sirius Black!" Hagrid exclaimed, turning, "You love that bike!"

Sirius shook his head, "I wont be needing it now, go on Hagrid."

Hagrid nodded and settled into the motorbike's seat. Soon he was off, the rumble of the motor dying out in the distance.

Sirius moved back over to James and threw his arm over his shoulders. "I'm sorry Prongs," he whispered. "This is all my fault."

"It's not," James threw back. "It's Voldemort's. Voldemort's and his supporters!"

Black's eyes hardened at the last phrase. He clapped his hand against James's back and stood up again. "His supporters indeed..."

"How did he find them, Padfoot?" James sobbed, clutching Lily to his chest again. "The Fidelius Charm! It's supposed...!" he held her tighter, his voice falling to a whisper, "it was supposed to be..."

Sirius turned so as not to look at what his best friend had been reduced to. "I've got to go, Prongs," he said softly. "There's something I need to take care of. I'm so sorry..."

As Sirius apparated away, James turned his attention back to his son. Brushing his hair back he noticed the jagged scar on his forehead.

Confused with grief, he didn't grasp the significance of some of the events that night. He didn't know how Voldemort had stormed into the Longbottom's house to remove a threat to his power, only to have it stripped away from him. He didn't know how Lily and Alice had died sheltering their children, invoking a magic older than Merlin himself. That as the Dark Lord had tried to curse the children the ancient magic had come into play, rebounding his spell between the two and sending it back to the caster.

He didn't know that as word spread, wizards and witches everywhere were raising their wands in a salute, at the end of a frightful era.

"To Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter," they would whisper. "To the Boys Who Lived!"

The Boys Who Lived

Chapter 1: Make a Wish Harry

"Harry, WAKE UP!"

Harry Potter, child of prophecy, greeted the new day as his head greeted the hardwood floor. He groaned and rolled onto his back, glaring at the man standing over his head.

James tossed down Harry's bed sheets as he stepped over him and headed for the door. "Breakfast is ready," he called as he stepped out of the room.

It was another few moments for Harry as he lay on his back, only to sit straight up as realization struck. Another few moments while he swapped the clothes he'd slept in for a clean set and grabbed his glasses. Soon he was dashing down the stairs where he found his father shoving the last of his meal into his mouth and moving his plate away from the table.

Breakfast at the Potter house was nothing to brag about, nor were many other meals. Even after a decade of being a single parent James had never bothered learning to cook anything past the 'edible' stage. Still, it was better than starving. Harry slid into his seat and took a few seconds to decide that the mess on his plate was probably supposed to be scrambled eggs before he began eating.

Once finished he tossed his plate into the sink and met his father at the fireplace. James glanced at him before grabbing a handful of powder from the pot at the side and tossing it into the fire he'd just started.

"In you go," he said. "Hurry it up, we've got ten minutes to get to Flourish & Blotts to meet up with Mrs. Longbottom."

"Right," Harry mumbled as he walked up to the green flames. "The Leaky Cauldron," he called out before stepping in.

* * *

Despite his insistence that one shouldn't keep a cranky old witch waiting - his very words - James was the one who pulled Harry aside so that the two could stop and stare into the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. They stood there, admiring the new Nimbus 2000 along with a small crowd of shoppers, for nearly half an hour before they came to their senses and rushed for the bookstore.

It wasn't too difficult to track down the Longbottoms once they entered the store, for Mrs. Longbottom was giving a huge scolding to Neville for losing his new toad somewhere amongst the aisles. James interrupted her with a short cough as she was explaining, in great detail, the shame Neville would bring to their family for that act.

"Ah, James! It's good to see you again!" she exclaimed. She nodded at Harry. "Young Potter's here as well, maybe you can help Neville find his school books...along with some other things." She glared at her grandson as she finished her sentence.

Neville looked glum as he shuffled over to Harry, who was in the process of grabbing a small parchment from his father. The two nodded towards the adults as they moved deeper into the store.

As they moved into the first aisle, Neville's face broke into a huge grin, which Harry mirrored.

"Gran thinks I lost Trevor on accident," he whispered about his toad. "But really when she wasn't looking I tossed him into a cauldron."

"Excellent," Harry whispered back. "Did it belong to anybody?"

"Of COURSE it did, where would the fun be if it didn't!" Neville made a show of glancing at the volumes of books on the shelves, then nodded down the aisle. "Over there, that girl with that huge stack of books."

Harry pulled down two copies of 'The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)' and dumped them in the cauldron Neville's gran had bought for him as he sneaked a peek. Since the girl was facing away from them he couldn't see more than a head full of wavy, chestnut brown hair.

Well, there was also the fact that she was hefting a stack of books nearly her height. Harry's mind temporarily froze while he contemplated how someone her size could carry so much.

"Can you believe we're finally going to Hogwarts this year?" Neville said as he pulled down a copy of 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi'. "Gran was so relieved when she got my letter. I think I did TOO good a job pretending to be a squib when I was younger..."

"I never did understand why you kept at it," Harry replied, prying out his own copy from the shelf. "I only wanted to see her reaction once, I didn't mean for you to play dumb for THIS long."

"It's not my fault, I didn't even think she was paying attention!"

"From what my dad says, she doesn't miss much." There was a slight creak as Harry pulled. "Why..." another creak, "is this stupid book not...coming... DOWN!!!"

Neville, who'd been watching, managed to jump away as Harry pulled down the textbook...along with many other books as the shelf gave way. Unfortunately, the girl they'd been watching earlier hadn't noticed as she walked down the aisle. As she peeked around the stack she was carrying to see what had caused the noise, she failed to notice that there was a mountain of books at her feet, and she contributed to the pile as she lost her balance and toppled over with a shriek.

"NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!!! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!!!"

Neville winced as he turned around and faced his doom. Luckily he had a clever and well thought out escape plan.

He half turned and pointed at the mop of unruly hair that was poking out from the pile. "He did it."

* * *

Harry groaned as he pulled a book off his face. As he glanced at the title he noticed it was one of the books he'd need for school, so he pitched it in the general direction of Neville's cauldron as he turned to watch Neville receive his second lecture in less than an hour.

"Ow!" exclaimed a voice off to the side.

A talking cauldron? Harry thought for a brief moment as he turned his head towards the source. He watched the brown haired girl he'd seen earlier get up on her knees, massaging the top of her head. She turned to glare at him.

"If you would, PLEASE consider the other customers in this store before you decide to go and make a mess!" she said. As she started gathering her books together he stared at her.

After a few attempts at moving the books away to cross the pile she gave an exasperated sigh and rounded on him again. "Well? Could you please at least help? It's only natural to clean up your own messes isn't it?"

Harry still didn't say anything as she glared at him. Her expression changed as she noticed his eyes locked onto hers, which narrowed with suspicion when he held her gaze. Finally her patience must have worn out and she picked up a book and threw it back at him. Pulling a hand free from under the pile he rubbed his forehead as she tromped over to her cauldron.

There was another surprised shriek as Trevor leapt out from his concealment and onto her head, just as he'd been trained. The thudding sound of books falling to the floor returned as she stumbled back against the pile Harry was still buried under. Unfortunately, his laughter was cut short and she turned to face him and he was again treated to the sight of her hazel eyes flashing brightly.

He swallowed as his brain caught up with the situation, especially noting the particularly heavy tome she was hefting in her hand. Fortunately, Neville wasn't the only person adept at getting out of trouble. Harry had many years of squirming out of punishments under his belt, and no matter how angry this girl could be, she'd probably never be a match for Neville's gran.

So Harry flashed her the biggest grin he could muster and lifted his arm with a flourish that came from years of practice.

"He did it," he said, leveling a finger at Neville.

* * *

James returned to Flourish & Blotts with Harry's new school robes under his arm. As he crossed the threshold, he felt a smile tugging at his face as he listened to Neville being scolded off by his grandmother again.

A girl lugging a cauldron filled to the brim with books brushed past him on her way out, and he lifted his package a bit higher to let her pass. A few more steps into the store and he came to the peculiar sight of Harry half buried under textbooks. His glasses were askew and he was rubbing at a quickly reddening patch of his cheek as James walked up.

"Do I want to know?" the elder Potter asked in a reasonably reasonable tone.

Harry glared at him.

* * *

A few quick spells had sorted out the mess in the store, but the store's owner had decided to get in a few choice words to his young customers, so it was nearly lunch by the time the Potters and Longbottoms finally finished their purchasing and left Flourish & Blotts.

The two groups split ways, Neville needing to get his set of robes while James dragged Harry off to get his wand. They promised to meet back at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, then set off to get the rest of their items.

"In you go!" James said as he pushed Harry into Ollivanders. "Stay here until I get back. I still need to get you a late birthday present."

"A Nimbus?" Harry asked excitedly.

"What? Of course not Harry! There'd be no way to smuggle tha...I mean you aren't allowed a personal broom your first year." James grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "Nah I'm thinking of something else...you stay here okay?"

Harry nodded as his father left the shop and strolled out of sight. Looking around he saw hundreds of narrow boxes just on the wall behind in front of him.

"Hello there Young Mister Potter," a breezy voice said. Harry looked up as a wizened old man slipped through the door behind the counter. "I've been wondering when I'd be seeing you..."

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur for Harry. There was his own cauldron to buy, the loot from the day's purchases being sorted between him and Neville. James had returned to Ollivanders bearing a beautiful snowy owl, which Harry had decided to name Hedwig after browsing through his history textbook.

Underneath his arm was his brand new wand. The things Ollivander had said about it had made him breathless for long moments. Neville was using his late father's wand, so he'd not gone to the shop. But Harry...

"Neville," he whispered. The two were sitting at the Leaky Cauldron eating their lunches away from the adults. Harry pulled out his wand. "You remember...well...not remember. But you know about...these right?"

Neville blanched as hairy pulled aside his hair to reveal the lightning shaped scar the two had both sported since before they could remember. He pressed a hand to his own forehead. "How could I forget..."

Harry looked down at his wand again, drawing Neville's attention back. "THIS wand...it's the same type as Voldemort's..."

This time Neville nearly choked on his sandwhich. "HARRY!" he whispered. "Not that I care but what if an adult hears you?"

"I still don't see why they're still scared of saying his name when he got beat up by the two of us before we could walk," Harry scoffed.

"You KNOW that's not what happened," Neville replied. "Harry, just try not to bring it up too loudly. The media finally started to ignore us only a year ago."

"Fine," Harry replaced the wand back in its box. "I just...it feels kind of wierd...having something in common with Him."

"At least you aren't the parselmouth," Neville mumbled. "I still remember when Gran caught us trying to talk to that garden snake you had in your yard...I think my rump remembers it too," he said with a wince.

Harry grinned, but winced as he felt his jaw stretch. "That reminds me, remember that girl at the store?"

"How could I forget? Gran gave me ANOTHER scolding about Trevor." Neville smirked. "But I saw what she did to you. She's got a mean right hook with that book of hers."

Harry glared at Neville before his eyes unfocused again. "I dunno, but you know...before she walloped me..." Harry sighed. "She's only average looking, I guess. But her eyes, Neville. They're like...well....she's kind of cute when she's angry," he finished.

He blinked as he found Neville looking at him like he'd just declared himself to be the next Dark Lord.

"Harry, you're ELEVEN years old. PLEASE don't go all mushy on me now. I'm still eating."

"Oh, sod off," Harry muttered angrily.

"Don't let Gran catch you saying that." Neville warned.

"It kind of reminds me of what my Dad said. About Mum," Harry said. "He said he'd gone clear out of his head the first time he saw her too."

"Oh great, it runs in the family. I hope you never have kids."

"It was her eyes that hooked him too. I remember he told me that. He said they were....they were like shooting stars..."

"Really now," Neville said. He shook his head and grinned across the table. "Well, Harry, the next time you see her why don't you make a wish?"

A/N: of all the L/J fics on PK, i have to say that Pheonix Song's stories are my favorite, so i took the liberty of pulling a few situations from her story to toss into mine ^^a

The Boys Who Lived

Chapter 2: On A Rail

The weeks following the trip to Diagon Alley were uneventful at best. Partially because Harry was taking his father's advice and doing a quick review of the subjects he was taking that year. The sole argument that James had tossed into play was the simple fact that the better prepared Harry was, the less work he'd have to do, which would result in LOTS of free time to wander about.

But the main reason Harry was bored to tears in the month leading up to his departure was because he and Neville had both been grounded following their stint at Flourish & Blotts.

Maybe it was the mood he'd entertained over the duration of his punishment, but Harry felt a breathless excitement take hold as he was ushered through the magical barrier and took his first step onto Platform 9 and 3/4.

The feeling lasted up until the point a trolley was pushed through the barrier behind him and ran itself up the backs of his heels. As he belatedly moved away from the pillar with a startled yelp, he noticed a nearby guard giving him an I-Told-You-So stare. Apparently the wizard HADN'T simply been waving hello to him earlier.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate," a cheerful voice sounded over his shoulder.

Harry spun to see a lanky red-headed boy grinning widely at him. The boy extended his hand. "My name's..."

"...Fred Weasley," he introduced himself, startling Harry. He'd never known anybody able to throw their voice so well. He hadn't even seen him move his...

A second hand clapped onto his shoulder and Harry spun around again. Teleportation as well?

"Oh, don't scare him, George," the voice came again from behind him. "The poor boy hasn't recovered from your runaway trolley yet."

The boy in front of Harry put a hand to his chest in mock hurt and looked over Harry's head. "MY trolley, Fred? When clearly the poor bloke's shoes are sporting YOUR trolley's treadmarks."

Harry stepped back a pace and half turned, suddenly understanding the situation. Identical twins stood facing him, each sporting the same mop of red hair and grins reaching their ears.

James moved up to his side. "Most of your stuff's in the baggage car, Harry." He placed his owl cage down at his feet. "I'll leave Hedwig with you."

"Thanks." Harry turned back to look at the twins. "Oh! Sorry, where's my manners? This is.."

If anything, the twin's smiles grew bigger as one of them raised a hand in greeting. "Fred and George Weasley, Mr. Potter."

Harry glanced at his father, but James didn't look surprised that they knew their surnames. He merely gave an 'ah' of recognition and shook Fred's hand. Turning his head a bit more, he noticed Neville being scolded off by his grandmother again and he tugged on his dad's sleeve.

"Be back in a bit," he said. Then took off to see what his friend was being told off about NOW.

* * *

Almost half an hour later, the two were on the train and searching for an empty compartment as it made final preparations to leave.

"I've trained that stupid toad too well," Neville moaned as he collapsed into a couch.

"I only hope we find him before he gets half the school mad at you," Harry replied as he dropped into the opposite seat.

They both snapped their heads towards the door as it slid open. A apologetic face looked in and scanned the compartment briefly before the boy sighed and slid the door open the rest of the way. "Can I sit here? All the rest are taken."

Neville waved him in, "Sure, no problem."

Harry stared as the boy stepped in and tossed a trunk into the overhead racks. The mop of red hair on his head marked him as related to the twins he'd met earlier, and when Harry asked about it, the other nodded a confirmation.

"Ron Weasley," he said, settling down next to Neville. "This is my first year going to Hogwarts."

"Us too," Harry said. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find a sudden itch. He held out his other hand, "Harry Potter, by the way."

Ron's eyes grew wide at the name, and wider still as Harry's scratching pulled a bit of hair away from his forehead. He looked over at Neville, who obligingly moved his hair away to display his own scar. "Bloody hell," he whispered. "I thought Fred and George were pulling my leg when they said they'd seen you."

"Yes, yes," Neville said with a sigh of long suffering. "Famous names, famous scars, missing toads. Who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Me," Harry said, looking at Ron.

"Eh, um, sure," he said, his face going almost as red as his hair.

Before they could start, however, they looked up as the door slid open again, a girl standing irritably in the corridor.

"Does this belong to anyone here?" she said, holding up a familiar amphibian.

"Not mine," Ron said.

"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed.

"..." Harry stared.

She stared back, her expression blank as recognition settled in. "I should have known," she spat as she all but threw the toad at Neville. She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Harry said. "It's not his fault, we lost him on the platform. We're glad you found him though, before he could do anything...rash."

"He jumped from the overhead racks and onto my head."

Neville winced.

Ron's gaze wavered back and forth between the two near the window and the one in the door. Finally it settled on the girl.

"You KNOW them?" he blurted out.

The girl frowned, her eyes starting to flash in anger, just as Harry liked to remember her. "Not really," she admitted. Apparently deciding not to be a human doorstop, she took an open seat on the same couch as Harry. It didn't escape anybody's attention, however, that she scooted herself as far away from him as possible, all but scrunching herself against the wall. "Hermione Granger," she introduced herself.

"Ron Weasley," the redhead replied.

"Neville Longbottom."

They turned to stare at Harry, who had gone back to staring. A shove from Neville shook him from his daze. "Er, Harry Potter," he mumbled.

Hermione's expression took on a new edge as she seemed to process this information. "I thought you'd be taller," she said, finally.

"First year at Hogwarts?" Neville asked in a conversational tone. He threw a grin at Harry as the two remembered their last conversation at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry responded with a warning glare as Hermione sat up straighter, oblivious to the exchange.

"Yes. Nobody in my family's magical at all. It was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but once the shock was over I was ever so pleased, of course."

She was speaking so rapidly it was a few moments for the rest of them to process what she'd even said. When she said 'of course' she made it sound as if her statements were the most obvious things in the world.

"It's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all of our course books by heart, of course; I just hope it will be enough, I've heard all sorts of things about the teachers there, I DO hope that they're as...."

She trailed off as she noticed the blank expressions facing her. "What?"

"Don't you ever need to BREATHE?" Ron exclaimed.

* * *

As an argument brewed on the door side of the compartment, Neville noticed Harry seemed to be lost in his thoughts. He was about comment on it when the toad in his arms croaked as if to remind him of his presence. Neville looked down, then he grinned as he picked his head back up.

Harry nearly jumped as Trevor jumped onto his head and began to croak loudly. He grabbed him from of his head with an annoyed sigh as Neville, laughing, pulled out the small tank he kept the toad in.

As Harry tossed him in, he noticed that the brief scene had been enough to distract Ron and Hermione from their little row. Both of them were looking in his direction and Hermione coughed distractedly in her throat.

"So..." she started, looking at Harry. She paused, seeming to collect her thoughts, and snapped her gaze to the side. "So Neville, you two are really the Boys-Who-Lived? I've heard so much about you, of course."

"Of course," the others repeated blankly.

"I've read several books about the wizarding world in my spare time, just for a little background reading. You're both mentioned in 'Modern Magical History' and 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts' and in 'Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century'"

Harry and Neville shared a glance which seemed to say this was news to them. Hermione looked at the two of them and threw her arms in the air.

"Goodness, didn't you know? I would have found out everything I could about myself if it were me!"

"Of course," Ron deadpanned.

The boys broke into laughter at his comment. Hermione bristled, then her mouth twisted into a small grin and she looked down. "I HAVE been running my mouth of haven't I?" she asked ruefully.

"Of course!" Neville howled, clutching his side as he laughed. He straightened up as a seat cushion bounced off his head.

"So have any of you given a thought to which houses you might go to?" Harry said, replacing the cushion.

"Well," began Hermione, looking crossly at Ron and Neville as they mouthed two familiar words and began sniggering. She paused and reconsidered what had probably been another rant in the making. "I wouldn't mind being in Ravenclaw, but after reading 'Hogwarts, A History', I think it'd be much more exciting to be in Gryffindor."

"Both our parents were in Gryffindor," Neville pointed out.

Harry looked at Ron, "What house are your brothers in?"

"Gryffindor." Ron looked glum, "My parents were in it too, so I can't imagine what would happen if I didn't get in. I guess Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad, but if they stick me in Slytherin I'm leaving straight away."

"That's the house You-Know-Who was in!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Not just that," Ron replied. "My Dad works in the Ministry of Magic. Every wizard who went bad during that time was in Slytherin."

Harry arched an eyebrow as he turned towards Hermione. "I thought you said you were muggle-born."

"Yes, so?"

"Well, it's not like you grew up hearing horrible stories about him. Why don't you just say Voldemort's name?"

Ron hissed. Neville rolled his eyes at him.

Hermione's eyes went wide and started darting back and forth, as if reading the inside of her head, looking for an answer. "Well...it's just since the wizarding world finds the name a bit...shocking, and you know...well..."

She glanced down at her watch and suddenly stood. "You'd better change into your robes," she said. Her voice had gone back to its former lecturing tone. "It won't be long now until we arrive."

As she stepped out into the corridor, Ron slumped in his seat. "With that kind of attitude you'll both be in Gryffindor for sure." He tilted his head towards the door. "I hope she goes into Ravenclaw, I don't think I could stand a week being with her in the same house."

"Oh, I don't know," Harry mumbled.

* * *

Another half hour had gone by without incident, though the three had taken the time to unpack their robes and throw them on. Harry had entertained Ron with some of the stories his father had told him about his time at the school. Neville, having heard most of them already, pitched in by pointing out obvious embellishments that had accumulated with each retelling.

"...and so there he was, narrowly escaping certain death from thousands of bludgers all charmed to bash his head in, saving my Mum from equally certain death as he repelled them all with a wave of his wand and locked the doors so they couldn't get out!"

"Except," Neville leaned in. "The charm in question was a simple summoning charm, cast by the 'damsel in distress' herself. I'm still undecided at this point if she really was trying to take his head off or not, but Mr. Potter stopped talking when I asked."

"I like my version better."

"Your version is worse than your Dads! At least in his version there was no plot by Dark wizards to kill him with a quidditch equipment shed!"

Harry's face fell. "The Dark wizards came later."

Ron bit a chunk from a chocolate frog he'd gotten from the snack trolley, which had passed by minutes ago. His face took on a contemplative edge as he chewed, and as he swallowed he looked at the other two. "No more Dark wizards around though, thanks to you two."

"I don't know..." Harry said thoughtfully. "My Dad gave me a few names to watch out for, I'm pretty sure I told Neville."

The round-faced boy nodded.

Before Ron could pester them for names, the door slid open to reveal a trio of boys. The center one sported sharp, gray eyes, a pointed chin, and pale hair which was slicked back. He also carried a sneer which seemed to stay no matter how he contorted his face.

"So," he sniffed. "What they said all over the train is true then." He raised his chin and looked down at the compartment's occupants. "The great and legendary Boys-Who-Lived are coming to Hogwarts." His tone was mocking, his manner disrespectful. Clearly a Slytherin in the making.

Harry and Neville took this in at a glance and looked at each other. "Hello, Malfoy," they recited.

Malfoy straightened, his smirk growing even wider. "I'm honored, the two celebrities know who I am." He stepped into the compartment, hand outstretched.

"It doesn't take much to remember a git," Harry scoffed, stopping Malfoy in his tracks.

Ron's bark of laughter drew his attention, and he rounded on him. "Think that's funny? No need to ask who YOU are. Red hair...freckles..." He glanced at his robes. "Shoddy, second-hand robes. Or should I say third-hand?" He sniffed again. "I don't need to associate myself with a Weasley..."

Ron jumped to his feet, but the other two followed suit and clamped their hands on his shoulder. Malfoy glared at him for several moments longer before he spun around.

He swept back through the door, "I'll see you at school, Potter, Longbottom. Crabbe! Goyle! Let's go!" His voice carried down the corridor, the two boys outside dutifully following.

Ron's ears were turning pink as Harry and Neville sat back down. It was another few moments before he got his breathing under control and then he sank back into the cushions as well.

"I've heard of his family," he said in a low tone. "Dad told me about them too. They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. Rubbish. Dad says they didn't need an excuse to go join his side..."

"We heard the same," Neville said. "That little git's dad was in school at the same time ours were. Their whole family was insufferable." He looked down.

"Neville's family suffered at lot worse than mine," Harry said. "Their first casualty took place while our parents were at school. The Malfoys were part of what happened."

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered. "Is there anybody else I should know about?"

Harry looked thoughtful. "Dad said something about a snake?"

"I think it was Snape," Neville said.

"That's right, Snivellus Snape. Or was it Severus?"

"I think we should just stick to the last name..."

Ron's eyes had widened. "We're doomed."

"Why?"

"He's the Potions Professor at Hogwarts."

Neville blanched. Potions, though he had a reasonable grasp of it, had never been his favorite subject. "He's right, we're doomed."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

A/N: well, i finally got my PortKey authorship, which is both good and bad. yay because i finally have some readers that i can inflict this on, and bad because since i havent quite made much headway i cant do another super-multichapter-post again :D

Disclaimers: i suppose i should have done this earlier, but harry potter, hogwarts, yadda yadda, all belong to jk rowling, whos eyes she has bequeathed to our favorite boy wonder. im merely hacking up her story in my own little way and putting it back together in a twisted shadow of its former self.....but anyhow..

The Boys Who Lived

Chapter 3: The Welcoming Feast

The rest of the train ride passed without any extra fuss, unless you count a small, insignificant event involving a pair of red-haired twins, some candy, a few inventive spells, and the small matter of a gullible first year breathing enough flame to set his compartment on fire.

But who keeps track of little things like that?

Once the train pulled into the station at the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the students piled out of the cars and milled about the platform. Most of the students almost immediately headed for a long line of horseless carriages that were to one side of the platform, but as Harry, Neville, and Ron made to follow a booming voice caught their attention.

"Firs' years over here! Firs' years!" A large figure stood in the middle of the sea of students, waving a lantern high over his head. "Firs' years, right this way now!"

As the trio drew closer, the first thing they noticed was that the man wasn't just large compared to the students, he was positively HUGE. Most of the first years surrounding him barely came up to his belt line, and the mass of hair on his head almost gave him a sinister look. But there was a twinkle in his eyes that almost seemed to display childish excitement as he looked around.

"Blimey, he's enormous," Neville blurted out. His comment mirrored the conversations of the students around them, but the man focused his gaze on their group.

"Well I'll be. Yeh sure have grown, young Longbottom. And Harry! Good ta see you again!" he said.

The boys in question blinked in confusion as their guide's face fell. "Wha', yeh don't remember me do yeh? Well I feared yeh might not have...not seen me in...must've been years!"

Harry found his voice at the same time his brain woke up. "Years? Then you were the ones that found us back when our...when we were young?"

Neville caught on, "Oh, you must be Hagrid! Harry's dad told us loads about you!"

Hagrid was positively beaming as they spoke. Before he could reply though he seemed to notice the rest of the students gathered around, waiting on him. "Right then," he coughed. He pointed down towards the lake, where they could see a flotilla of boats down at small harbor. "Make yer way down thataways and grab yourselves a seat. Four people to a boat, mind you!"

It was a short trip to the dock and the three boys quickly loaded themselves onto a nearby boat. As the rest of the students sorted themselves out they traded speculations on how they'd be sorted into their houses.

"I heard they'd make us wrestle a troll, and if you lost you'd definitely be stuck with Slytherin," Neville moaned.

"Well it's a school right?" Harry said. "Maybe they'd just give us some sort of exam."

"Ugh, I hope not," Ron mumbled. "Still, it sounds better than what Fred and George told me. They said we'd have to squash a hundred spiders, and the splatter pattern would spell out which house we'd go to." He shuddered.

"I think that was the most revolting thing I have ever heard," a familiar voice chipped in.

They looked up to see Hermione standing beside their boat, looking a bit nervous. "The other boats filled up before I could reach them," she explained apologetically. "Is it okay if we share?"

Harry's face lit up for a moment before he schooled his expression to a polite smile. With a flourish he waved his arms to an empty spot on the bench as he spoke in his most official-sounding tone. "Miss Granger, we would be honored to have you join us."

He heard the other two quietly laughing at his behavior but kept his gaze on Hermione's face. A flicker of worry crossed his face as he noticed her frown and glance along the length of the boat suspiciously, then it turned to puzzlement as she opened her mouth.

"Neville, your toad is still with your trunk, right?" she asked.

Now it was Harry's turn to laugh as Neville's face went pale.

* * *

It was a pleasant trip across the lake to the school grounds. The spectacle of the castle standing serenely over the water was breathtaking, the twinkling stars in the night sky above and behind it magnificent. As Harry's mind took it all in, he could find only one word to describe the view: magical.

The view also had the added benefit of making Hermione forget about the possibility of another ambush from Trevor. Since her paranoia-induced inspections of the boat had caused it to rock erratically, he was sure that Neville and Ron were also thankful for the distraction.

Once inside the castle, Hagrid led the group up several flights of stairs where a stern looking witch stood waiting. "Professor McGonagall," he greeted.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she replied. "I will take them from here."

Behind her a set of doors creaked and slowly slid open to reveal a brightly lit antechamber. With a glance she told the students to follow her in as she walked to the large doors opposite the entryway.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said as she turned to face them. "Before we begin the welcoming feast you will all take part in the Sorting Ceremony. As this ceremony will determine which houses you will be part of. Your house will be your family during your stay at the school. You will live together in your house dormitories, spend your free time in their common rooms, and your classes will be with your housemates of the same year.

"The four houses here are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Work hard, for achievements will earn your house points for the House Cup, which is a great honor, awarded once each year at the end of the school term."

Whispers and comments began to circulate through the crowd until she raised a hand for silence. "You should be warned, however. Points can also be taken away from your house just as easily for poor behaviors and any infractions of the rules. I suggest that you keep the your housemates in mind should you decide to do anything...rash."

With a promise to return shortly, she entered the Great Hall to prepare the ceremony. As the doors closed the conversations picked up again, topics ranging from which houses they would be sorted into, to which monster they'd have to fight.

A few minutes later the doors creaked open again as Professor McGonagall poked her head through. "They are ready for you now," she announced as she threw the doors open the rest of the way. "Form a line and follow me, the Sorting will now begin."

* * *

The following events were a blur to Harry. McGonagall had led them through a side door to the Hall, which brought them facing the many professors of the school sitting at the faculty table. Behind them the rest of the students were divided up into four long tables, every one of them filled with whispering as the first years nervously fidgeted in place.

McGonagall had drawn their attention to a shoddy looking wizard's hat, which had surprised them all by breaking into a song. Relief had settled over several of the first years as they realized that they weren't going to fight any trolls, but Harry was wondering how exactly the hat would sort them all.

One of the tables cheered loudly as the first student called, "Hannah Abbott," became the first new Hufflepuff. "Susan Bones," also became a Hufflepuff amid cheers. And so it went down the list. Different sections of the room would clap and shout as each student was sorted into a house, though Harry thought he noticed a few scattered boos each time a Slytherin was announced.

He heard Ron groaning from a few places down the line as Hermione jumped off the stool and ran eagerly for the Gryffindor table.

When Neville's name came up the school went silent for a few moments as people made sure they hadn't been hearing things. The Sorting Hat seemed to take an awfully long time to decide for him as conversation picked up again, then the table closest to Harry roared in approval as the hat triumphantly shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!!"

Neville was so relieved that he nearly took the hat with him in his haste to leave the stool, laughter following him back as he meekly replaced it on the stool.

The hat needed no time with Malfoy, Harry noted, as the blond swaggered past the remains of the line on his way to the Slytherin table.

There was another moment of breathless excitement as "Potter, Harry," was called. As Harry jammed the hat over his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch the crowd, he realized why it had taken Neville so long.

Well, well, well, a voice whispered into his head. Another difficult one, I thought I'd gotten through the ones for this year already. Hmm, plenty of courage, I see...a bit misguided but it's there. There's lots of raw talent, oh yes...that other boy doesn't even come close. Lots of ambition, I see...with a great thirst to prove yourself...I've half a mind to put you in Slytherin - except I don't have a mind...

"Not Slytherin," Harry whispered fiercely.

Oh no? the voice whispered back. That other boy was just as insistent as you were. Ah well... The hat seemed to sigh, which caused Harry's head to bob. I suppose the blood would tell in this case...might as well shove you with the others in...

"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted. Harry grinned and carefully removed the hat before he dashed off to the spot on the bench Neville had cleared out for him.

Ron, like Malfoy, had only to lift the hat over his head before it mumbled something about "more Weasleys" and sent him on his way to the Gryffindor table, and with a few more students Sorted, the ceremony was complete and the tables were alive as the occupants greeted the newcomers.

The feast began after a kind-looking, elderly wizard stood from the head table and said a few words. Literally only a few words, of which their meanings were completely beyond the comprehension of anybody present.

"Mad?" a student across from Harry repeated as Harry asked about it. "Dumbledore's the smartest and most powerful wizard the world has ever seen, and the best Headmaster Hogwarts has had in ages." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "He is a bit mad though."

"Percy, older brother," Ron belatedly introduced as he chewed on a helping of potatoes.

"He's a prefect," the Weasley twins chorused from beside him. Their expressions suggested a great stain on their family's honor for that transgression, which Percy reciprocated with a scowl and a gesture which really would be a stain on his honor.

Harry looked out of the corner of his eye to watch Hermione, who had started a conversation with Percy about their lessons.

"I do hope they start straight away, there's so much to learn. I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course."

There was a snicker from Ron, which she pointedly ignored. "It's supposed to be very difficult..."

"Don't worry," assured Percy. "You'll be starting small, matchsticks into needles and that sort of thing. But McGonagall's a hard taskmaster, so you had better keep up with your studies."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of slacking off, not with the OWLs in only a few years."

"It's good to see a student that thinks ahead, Hermione. Hogwarts could really use more students with that attitude."

"Say," interrupted Neville. He jabbed a fork towards the head table. "Who's that teacher at the end? The one staring at us."

They all looked over in the direction he'd indicated. Two professors were engaged in conversation, one with greasy looking black hair and a hooked nose, the other with a turban obscuring the rest of his head.

"The one with his back to us, his head's in a turban, that's Professor Quirrell. He just came back from a year's sabbatical to 'get some experience'," Percy explained. "He's the Defense Against the Dark Arts, teacher. The one next to him is Professor Snape. If he's looking upset right now it's probably because Quirrell's here."

"Snape's been after the DADA position for years," George said with a grin.

From the look on his face, Neville wasn't convinced with that explanation, and Harry was of mind to agree with him. The look on Snape's face was more than simply 'upset', it appeared to be genuine loathing. More importantly, his gaze was not towards Quirrell at all, but focused directly at Harry.

As Harry's eyes met his, Snape's expression twisted into barely contained fury, and at the exact same instance Harry felt a sharp pain at his scar.

"Harry!" he heard someone exclaim. "Oiy, what's the matter with you?"

Dimly he felt a hand give his shoulder a shake as the pain faded. To his side he noticed one of the Weasley twins doing the same with Neville, who had a hand pressed to his forehead as well. As the pain faded, they locked worried stares on each other, oblivious to the questions being thrown at them from all around.

The conversation they'd had on the Hogwart's Express floated back to them, and they seemed to share a single thought.

Snape.

The Boys Who Lived

Chapter 4: Flying Lessons

Peeves the Poltergeist was one happy spirit.

One of many ghosts that roamed the hallways of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Peeves was a familiar sight to the various denizens of the school. That he was the least popular was of no concern to him. In fact, he made no secret that he was thrilled about being one of the few ghosts that were able to manipulate objects in the material world and did everything he could to maintain his reputation as the biggest environmental hazard Hogwarts had to offer.

At the moment, his efforts towards that goal consisted of a cache of water balloons he'd stashed up in the rafters, a suit of armor that he'd spent the morning loosening the supports holding down, and his 'jovial, fun loving' attitude.

Now all he needed was some poor bloke to wander along and...

"How does she do it?" an irate voice echoed down the corridors.

Peeves cackled as he darted through a nearby closed door he knew led to a broom closet, settling in to wait. This was shaping up to be a rather good day...

* * *

This was shaping up to be a really lousy day, fumed Harry as he stormed down the corridor. Behind him trailed Ron and Neville, watching their friend stomp along the floor.

Harry was staring at his wand in betrayal, seeming to blame it for his current mood. "Herbology, I can understand. History of Magic, I can understand! Charms, I can sort of understand!"

"'It's Win-gar-dium Levi­-o-sa'," Ron chimed in irritably. "'Not Levio-SA.'"

"But Transfigurations too?!" Harry threw his arms into the air. "My Dad taught me Transfigurations since before I even held a broomstick! And that's saying something! How does a muggle-born do this stuff so well on her first try?!"

"Harry, you're almost starting to sound like Malfoy," Neville said.

"I've nothing against them, especially her...but seriously!!" Harry wailed. He stopped in mid-stride and spun to face his two friends. "Neville, you're our last hope."

Neville arched an eyebrow.

"You're decent at Potions, I know you can do it! We can't let a girl show us up! Not even Hermione Granger! And not in EVERY BLOODY CLASS!!"

"Face it, Harry, she clearly didn't memorize the entire curriculum for nothing," Ron quipped.

"We haven't had flight lessons yet," Neville pointed out. "I doubt she could beat you at that."

Harry sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I don't know if I should be laughing that Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins are having their pure-blood rhetoric thrown back in their faces, or upset about having to admit to be second best to a girl."

"Oh we already know you're upset," Neville said. "No question about that. How about we get to the laughing part, we're going to need all the cheer we can get before we submit ourselves to Snape."

"I swear, he must be part Dementor," Ron moaned.

"He's a Veela to the Slytherins," Harry huffed as he set down the corridor again.

He hadn't gone more than three paces before there was a loud popping sound and he suddenly found himself soaked from head to toe. There was a cackling from Peeves as he streaked from his hiding spot, hurling water balloons in his direction.

"WHEEEEEE ICKLE-FIRSTIES!!" the poltergeist whooped. "SO SCARED OF SNAPEY THEY WET THEIR BRITCHES!" Peeves cackled some more and swooped off to shove a statue into a group of startled Hufflepuffs who had peeked out of a classroom to see what the commotion was about.

As the ghost sped away, Neville and Ron cautiously emerged from their hiding spots and regarded the soaked student.

"What do you think?" Harry speculated as he silently fumed. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for getting Snape's precious classroom floor wet, or twenty points for being late after I finish changing?"

* * *

As it was, Gryffindor lost about sixty points during their Potions lesson, twenty from Harry for being both late AND getting the floor wet (since a Slytherin had 'accidentally' upended his cauldron while walking past). Thirty were scattered between Neville and Hermione, Neville for having answered the questions Snape had thrown at him correctly without raising his hand, and Hermione for annoying him with her hand nearly constantly in the air. And the last ten were on Harry again for failing to submit the day's work.

Harry would have been happy to show his innate ability with curses and hexes in their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, if not for the fact that they were incredibly dull. Professor Quirrell spent the time all but huddled behind his desk, speaking timidly of vampires and zombies, the former explaining the garlic stench that seemed to permeate the room.

When the hour for flying lessons finally came, Harry was visibly brimming with relief at a way to vent out his frustrations, but he was sorely disappointed when Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, made it plainly clear that she wouldn't have any of them flying on their first day.

"Why did you bring a Remembrall to a flying lesson, Neville?" Ron asked.

Neville stared at the round glass, watching as the insides began to swirl with a red fog. "I forgot to leave it in the common room," he mumbled in a low tone.

By then Madam Hooch had finished her inspection of the class and turned to face the two rows of children. "Stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'" she ordered.

It was a small amount of satisfaction for Harry as he instantly summoned his broomstick into the air, closely followed by Malfoy's. His eyes narrowed as he belatedly remembered that the Slytherins and Gryffindors shared this class, as well as every other class, with each other.

As Madam Hooch waited for the rest of the students to get their brooms afloat, he looked over to his side to see how Hermione was faring.

It was another few moments before she was able to summon her broom into her hand, and as she did she glanced over towards him. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his smug grin.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Potter?" she asked icily.

"Not at all," Harry said loftily. "Everything's just fine, Ms. Granger."

"Mount your brooms!" Hooch called out. She started going along the line, making comments and adjusting students' seating positions and their handgrips.

"God, I forgot how much I hate this," Neville croaked out. His eyes, Harry noted, were squeezed shut as he tried very hard not to think about what they were about to do.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off the ground hard," ordered their flying instructor. "Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly."

She raised her whistle up to her mouth, "Three, two, one, *tweet*"

As one the students lifted off the ground. Most of them, like Harry wore a bored expression on their faces, while some of students who'd never ridden a broom before had a look which suggested they fully expected their broom to take off like a wild Zonko Rocket. Hermione and Neville both shared similar expressions of nausea.

Madam Hooch walked down between the two classes again, making sure they didn't try to take off. As she passed Malfoy's position, his face twisted into a sneer as he settled back to the ground. As he did so, he dismounted and raised the handle of his broom to give Neville's a sharp whack.

Neville, who still had his eyes closed in an attempt to stave off his vertigo, snapped them open at the jolt. Reflexively he grabbed at the broom's handle to keep from falling off, yanking it into a climbing angle. With a fearful cry Neville shot off into the sky, Madam Hooch furiously shouting out reprimands as she noticed him.

Petrified with fear, Neville was helpless to control his broom as it careened through the air. His attempts to do so only sent him twisting and twirling, adding nausea to his fright.

He only seemed to notice the large stone wall a few moments after he ran headlong into it, the impact sending the broom off at an odd angle and Neville falling nearly twenty meters into the ground.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" Madam Hooch pushed her way through the crowd that had formed around the motionless body. In a flash she was crouched beside him and inspected the odd angle his arm was bent at. "Broken wrist, at the least," they heard her mumble. "Possible fractured his arm too...well!"

She pulled out her wand and set the stricken boy floating into the air at her side. "I'll be taking him to the hospital wing," she announced as she began to move. "Nobody is to move from THIS SPOT until I return! If I catch any of you in the air, you'll be out of here before you can even say Quidditch."

Harry waited until she and her charge disappeared back into the castle before he rounded on Malfoy, but Ron beat him too it.

"Bloody hell! What was that for, you git?!"

Draco merely affected an air of innocence. "I don't know why you're talking to me, Weasley. I suggest asking your hero why he couldn't even follow simple directions," he sneered. "Especially when he knows he couldn't even fly!"

Both Harry and Ron started for him, when they were both grabbed by the backs of their robes and yanked back.

"Don't start a fight," Hermione warned them. "You know that's what he's trying to do."

"I'm hurt, Granger," Malfoy said. "How could you think such a low thing about me?" He smirked as he reached down and picked up a familiar globe. "You'd think Longbottom would have paid some more attention to this," he gloated, juggling the Remembrall. "Maybe he wouldn't have forgotten how much of an idiot he is, then!"

"Malfoy..." Harry growled.

"Yes, Potter? Oh do you think he'd want this back?"

It took everything Harry had to keep the fury boiling in him to from showing up on his face. "I think he might like that," he said. Then, almost faster than the eye could follow he pulled out his wand. "Accio Remembrall!" he shouted.

Nothing happened as Malfoy glanced down at his hand briefly. He looked back up with a satisfied smirk. "The Great Harry Potter," he said as he tossed the sphere from hand to hand. "Can't even perform a simple charm when he wants to."

Several students, not all of them Slytherins, began laughing as Harry stood there. He noticed Hermione stepping around to where he could see her, no doubt about to remind him that the Summoning Charm was an intermediate level spell, and he shouldn't expect it to work when they were still working on beginner level ones.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to meet her gaze. As he concentrated, an idea blossomed in his head and he opened his eyes to return Malfoy's glare.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he chanted, waving his wand almost lazily at him.

Again Malfoy glanced down at the Remembrall in his hands. "It's still not moving, Potter. Even I wouldn't have expected you to forget a spell we learned just this morning."

But Harry's attention wasn't focused on Draco at all, but rather at the broomstick at his feet behind him. With his spell the broom slowly floated up behind the laughing Slytherin.

Wand still held out in front of him, Harry let his eyes flick over to Malfoy's face, then back to the broom. Malfoy caught the hint and turned around.

"Well I guess you didn't forget the spell, but you've got the worst aim I have ever-"

"Accio Broomstick!"

This time, the charm was a success as the broom was summoned into Harry's waiting hand. There was the slight problem of an eleven year old boy in its way, but spells generally ignore such trivialities.

The impact to his face sent Draco reeling backwards, the rest of the broom shooting over him as he was knocked to the ground. As he fell, however, a reflexive twitching of his hands sent the Remembrall into the air, and the tail end of the broom had swatted it as it went past, sending it soaring towards the other side of the courtyard.

With a curse, Harry hopped onto the broom, ignoring startled cries and reminders of Madam Hooch's warning. After taking a moment to relocate the falling object, he quickly took off, skimming the ground until he was nearly under it.

Only seconds after he'd thrown himself after it, he was gliding back to the group, holding the Remembrall triumphantly.

"Harry Potter!" an irate voice called out.

Harry's smile slipped as he belatedly noticed Professor McGonagall standing amongst the students. Beside her was a bloody nosed, but smug looking Malfoy.

"Well I never," the professor exclaimed. "Madam Hooch informed me she was taking a student to the hospital wing, and suggested I watch over the students in her absence! I come down and what do I see?!"

"Professor..." Harry began.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall interrupted. "Get down from that broom and come with me, this instant!"

* * *

The students were silent as the irate professor all but shoved Harry through the courtyard doors. After wrangling promises from the other students to ensure nobody else would take to the sky, she'd grabbed his arm and led him away, towards whatever punishment he'd undoubtedly face.

To nobody's surprise, Malfoy broke the silence with a sharp bark of laughter. "Did you see his face when he saw her? Boy, I wish there was a camera to record that!"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron said through gritted teeth.

"You know what, Weasel? I'm in such a good right now that I'm going to ignore that. I'll even do you a favor, I wont make fun of your family at all for the rest of the day!"

Ron narrowed his eyes.

"That's right, I wont mention at all how you're so poor it makes my brain hurt to think how you manage to scrape by. I won't talk about how your muggle-loving father is the most despicable blood-traitor in the world. I won't even go into the fact that you're a-"

"Ron, don't!" Hermione cried as she tugged on his robes to avoid him charging Malfoy.

"Let me go," Ron shouted at her. "You heard what he just said, I can't just ignore it!"

"You're just going to lose more points from Gryffindor!" she retorted. "You don't want the all professors to think we're just common street brawlers, do you?"

Ron turned around in disbelief. "Is that all that matters to you? There is a stuck-up, spoiled little prat in need of a good beating and you're worried about getting a shiny trophy?"

"Excuse me, but I can still hear you," Malfoy reminded him crossly.

"I'm just looking out for more than myself, unlike some other people I know!" Hermione retorted. "You and your friends," she spat, "have lost us more points than the rest of the first years combined!"

"At least I have friends," Ron said in a low voice. "At least I'm not some stuffy know-it-all whose only companion is a stupid book. You don't care about anybody else! You're just worried about what teachers will think about you!"

He yanked his robes away from her hand and glared at her. "No wonder you don't have any friends," he snarled.

Hermione didn't say anything as she matched his glare with her own. Then, without saying a word, she brushed past him and strode up the steps to the school.

Ron looked back to see a grinning Malfoy.

"That was brilliant," he chuckled as the castle doors slammed shut. "I couldn't have done it better myself, Weasel."

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The Boys Who Lived

Chapter 5: The Plan

"You must be joking!"

The voice echoed through the Great Hall, easily piercing the low murmurs of ordinary dinner conversation. Irritably, Harry waved away the few heads that turned in their direction and glared at Neville.

"Sorry," the boy mumbled, then continued in a lower tone. "Seeker for our House? That's bloody fantastic."

"I know," Harry said, grinning from ear to ear.

Ron shoveled a second helping of kidney pie onto his plate and speared it with his fork. "So McGonagall wasn't mad?"

"I think she was at first, but then all she did was run me straight to Wood. Erm, Oliver Wood, he's the team captain," he explained

"Man, the things you miss when you're in the hospital," Neville said mournfully. "First years almost never get a crack at tryouts! You must be the youngest seeker in years!"

"A century. Wood told me." Harry suddenly blinked and reached for the inside pocket of his robes. "That reminds me. Here you go," he said as he dropped Neville's Remembrall in front of him.

Neville simply stared at the object beside his plate.

"I've got you to thank for all this," Harry beamed. "I couldn't have done it without you. Oh, by the way, you and Ron...try to keep quiet about this, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

As they nodded in agreement a pair of hands clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Well done, Harry," George said in a low voice.

"Wood told us," said Fred.

"We're beaters," the two chorused.

Ron groaned and held his head in his hands.

"Don't worry, ickle Ronnikins," George said lightly. "You'll get a shot later, most of the team will be gone after a few years."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred.

"We haven't won it since Charlie left - "

"But this year's team is going to be brilliant - "

"You must be good, Harry - "

"Wood was almost skipping - "

" - Dancing - "

"Ugly sight I have to say - "

" - when he told us about you."

By now Harry's neck was sore as he tried to follow each Weasley twin as they spoke. They clapped his shoulder again and moved on, "Anyway, we've got to go."

"Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week..."

Rubbing his sore muscles, Harry turned back to the table. Ron's expression was a trifle more cheerful, while Neville looked just as lost as he did.

"I guess it's a fair trade," Ron said. "Seeker your first year, but now you have to deal with my brothers."

"Who knows?" Neville said. "Maybe he'll hear some really good stories about 'ickle Ronnikins'."

Harry laughed and craned his head around, scanning the length of the table. After a few moments he lost his smile and looked at the other two. "Have either of you seen Hermione?"

Neville simply shrugged, but Ron's reaction caught Harry's attention.

"Ron?"

"What? I don't know where she is," came the snapped reply.

Harry frowned at him. "Ron?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly in warning.

Ron didn't meet his eyes as he fidgeted on the bench nervously.

"Ron........"

"Okay, okay..." Ron said. He quickly told them the events that had occurred after McGonagall had dragged Harry off to meet Wood. He spoke so rapidly that it was a few moments for the others to process what he'd just said.

"Wow..." Neville finally said in an astonished voice.

Harry looked murderous.

* * *

The next day began in eerie silence.

In the morning, Harry woke up early, dressed and went down to have breakfast. Though he'd carefully picked a time when most of the early diners were finishing and the general crowds had yet to arrive, he failed to find a familiar bushel of brown hair amongst the small crowds.

As he was finishing, Ron and Neville slid into the benches opposite his and also made a show of scanning the room.

"She's not here," Harry said, somehow managing to glare at Ron while his eyes were still focused on his plate.

"Look, Harry, I said I was sorry," Ron began.

"I still can't get over the fact that you said that to her," Neville said.

"I SAID, I was sorry," Ron repeated. He spooned his breakfast onto his plate. "Even though what I said was true," he mumbled.

Harry shot out of his seat but Neville simply reached over and tugged him back down onto the bench.

"Merlin's Beard, what I can't see is why she didn't hex you on the spot!" Neville exclaimed. He turned to give Harry a sympathetic look. "But you know, Harry, she was probably right about us too."

"It's not that we're looking for trouble," Harry grumbled. "It's just that Malfoy-"

"-is a git and a prat, we know." Neville sighed. "Don't you remember those stories your Dad told us about his school year? All that fighting he did with the Slytherins, it didn't help his image at all!"

"What my Dad said," Harry began. He suddenly paused.

Neville waited.

"What my Dad said..." Harry repeated thoughtfully.

Ron sat a bit straighter as he noticed a strange glint in Harry's eyes. "Harry?"

Neville recognized that look, "Oh no...Harry- no- I didn't mean to-"

Harry grinned and stood up again. "I'll show her she can't brush us off so easily."

"No! Harry, weren't you listening?"

"C'mon Neville, where did your sense of adventure run off to?" Harry quickly set off for the common room. "It'll just be like old times!"

Ron was thoroughly confused at this point, "What's he talking about?" he asked Neville.

Neville dropped his head into his hands. "We're doomed."

* * *

Harry's plan, as it turned out, was not the nightmarish series of pranks Neville had imagined, thankfully. However, what he did have in mind was almost as scary, especially as he outlined the details to his friends.

Once he was finished speaking, Neville became convinced that Harry had finally accomplished what he'd been threatening to do since their trip to Diagon Alley. He'd gone completely nutters.

Over the rest of the week, they paid careful attention in Transfigurations and Charms, trying to absorb the lessons in both and applying them to their preparations their little task would require.

Even though Ron was still wary of the reasoning behind Harry's actions, the plan itself was interesting enough that he decided to help out as well. Though Ron didn't quite have the knack with spells the other two did in their respective specialties, he did have the benefit of being a Weasley and growing up with his brothers. Even Harry was impressed as Ron told him stories of the twins' accomplishments, both at the school and at their home.

Harry didn't see much of Hermione during this week, since she was suddenly very quiet during their classes, and was often the first to leave when they were over. He saw her once in the Library, as the trio searched through spellbooks to find the incantations they needed for some of their ideas to work. As they walked past, however, she had started packing up her books and had left soon after.

* * *

The days turned to weeks, and before they knew it their first school holiday had crept on them. Despite the heightened mood the rest of the school was enjoying, they were still sorting through the details of Harry's idea as they dragged themselves into the common room.

As 'The Plan', as they referred to it, was slowly taking shape, and they soon found their ideas becoming more complex, the necessary spells increasing in difficulty. Because of the research they were pouring into, they noticed the welcome side affect of improved schoolwork, at least during practical applications.

"I'll admit, Harry," Ron said, "This is loads more interesting than what the professors are giving us at the moment, but its bloody difficult!" He stumbled over and collapsed into a chair close to the fire.

"Well, we've never tried anything like this before," Harry said as he followed suit. "Especially since Neville and I weren't allowed to use magic back then."

"I think we're going to need help," Neville commented. "At least with the final phase of it."

"Not any of the other students," Ron warned him. "They might just turn us into the teachers for it."

"And none of the teachers for that reason either," Harry added. He leaned back and stretched his arms. "I do agree we might need help, but we have something of a short list of candidates..."

"Hey what about Hagrid?" Neville said. "He's not a teacher, definitely not a student, and I'd imagine he'd be willing to help us."

"That's not a bad idea," Harry murmured. He glanced over at the clock sitting on the wall next to him. "We still have a while until the Halloween Feast, why don't we go now?"

"I'll pass," Ron said. "I'm too hungry to move right now."

"I think I need a break from anything related to The Plan," said Neville. "At least for the night."

Harry nodded and shrugged his robes back on. "See you later, then." He tossed them a wave as he stepped through the portrait hole.

The weather was growing chilly as the winter season approached, so Harry had his robes wrapped tightly around him as he made his way down towards the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's hut was only a few meters away from the forest's edge, a short enough distance that Harry was slightly uneasy with its proximity.

Warm lighting poured out from the window of the hut, however, and as Harry approached he heard a booming laughter which could only mean that Hogwarts' groundkeeper was in good spirits. He smiled as he raised a hand to the door.

Before he could knock, however, the door opened on its own and his smile faltered. A familiar figure stood in the doorway with their back to him as they addressed the occupants inside.

"Thank you for the tea, Hagrid," he heard Hermione say.

"No problem at all 'Ermione," came the reply. "If yeh need to talk to somebody again, yeh know yer always welcome here!"

There was another short exchange and then Hermione turned to leave, stopping when she noticed Harry standing just outside. He felt his throat constrict as he saw the smile on her face slowly disappear.

She gave him a curt nod, "Potter."

"Hermione, wait," Harry said as she moved past him. "About what Ron said, he's really so-"

"I assure you, Potter," she said coldly, not breaking her stride, "I haven't given it a moment's thought. You needn't concern yourself with someone such as myself."

Harry winced and made to follow her when a hand the size of his head clapped him on the shoulder. "Let her be, 'Arry," Hagrid rumbled softly. "Yeh came here for a reason? I'd be happy to listen if yeh wanted to talk."

Harry followed him into the hut, anything concerning The Plan wiped clear from his thoughts. "Hagrid," he began. "Did she - did Hermione..."

"She's strong, she is," Hagrid assured him. "S'not my place to say but she's been feeling a bit lonely." He looked at Harry through half-closed eyes. "You wouldn't know anything about it, would ya?"

"Sort of..." Harry mumbled.

"Well she just comes down once in a while, she tells me how she's been doin' in her classes." Hagrid set a steaming mug on the table in front of him. "Why don'tcha sit down, have a some tea?"

"Thanks," Harry said as he took a chair. "She comes down often?" he asked as he warmed his hands against the ceramic.

"Yep, I used to be a wizard too, y'know!" Hagrid said. "'Course I got expelled an' all, they snapped me wand an' everythin'. She likes telling me what yer all learnin up there."

"I see."

"She likes my stories too," Hagrid said happily. "It's nice, y'know. Ain't been a witch or wizard in years who'd listen to me, y'know. Reckon they still don't like...well...people like me, I guess. Even after You-Know-Who left...old hates don't go away easily."

"'Like you'?"

"Ah...well I guess you wouldn't mind, 'Arry, you bein' James' son an' all. But I'm a half-breed, wizard and...well y'know. Yeh might have, er, noticed...what with me bein' so..." Hagrid gestured towards himself and waved at the oversized furniture of the hut.

"I don't mind," Harry said honestly. He suddenly found himself gasping for breath as Hagrid reached over and gave him a bone-crushing hug.

"You've a heart as big as your mother's," sobbed the half-giant.

"Hagrid...air..breath...air....."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that." Hagrid quickly released Harry and leaned back into his chair, brushing tears from his eyes. "Well anyways, I was just telling Hermione about ol' Fluffy."

"Fluffy," Harry repeated.

"Yeah, he's just the cutest little dog, I had a handful raising him, mind yeh."

Harry looked around and spotted a large canine snoozing in the corner. "He doesn't look that bad," he commented.

"Wha', him?" Hagrid glanced over his shoulder. "Naw, that's just Fang. Fluffy's up in the castle, doubt you'd see him much, being in the restricted sections and what not."

Harry's mind recalled Dumbledore's warning at the start of the term, concerning a certain corridor on a certain level. "Restricted section? Why would your dog be up there?"

"Eh," Hagrid blanched. "Shouldn't a told ya that. Do me a favor and forget I said anything, I accidentally told 'Ermione too, so remind her if yeh see her."

"Um...right." Thinking about the times he hadn't seen her over the weeks, Harry suddenly remembered why he'd come down. "Oh, Hagrid-"

"Blimey!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Look at the time! Yeh better get back up to the castle, 'Arry. Yeh don't wanna miss the feast!"

Hagrid all but pulled Harry to his feet and ushered him out the door. "Gowan, 'Arry! Yeh wouldn't want to miss good food would yeh?"

* * *

As befitting a school dedicated to magic, the decorations for the Hogwarts Halloween Feast were simply awe inspiring. The ceiling was currently showing dark clouds against a full moon. The usual arrangement of candles floating through the air had been replaced with thousands of jack 'o lanterns. A cave's worth of live bats fluttered through the air, the rustle of their wings barely heard over the noise of the students.

"You're late," Ron said as Harry slid into the seat he'd saved.

"Sorry, I ended up staying longer than I expected."

Neville looked over a huge pumpkin pie. "So did he agree?"

Harry frowned. "Agree?"

"Hagrid!" Neville looked exasperated. "Did you ask him about helping us with The Plan?"

"Oh, sorry." Harry looked down at the food on his plate. "It sort of slipped my mind." He glanced along the tables again, masking his attentions by reaching over and snagging a dish from a platter barely in his reach.

"She's not here," Neville said, seeing through his actions.

"We heard Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that she's been in the crying in the bathroom," Ron informed him. "She was saying she wanted to be left alone."

Harry took some comfort that Ron looked rather uncomfortable for his part in this. He was about to point it out when a shrill scream cut through the celebrations.

Everybody in the Great Hall snapped their heads to watch as the doors were thrown open, a distraught Professor Quirrell tearing down the aisle, shouting something incomprehensible.

"Troll!" he repeated as he stumbled towards the head table. He was gasping for breath, his turban and robes askew. "Troll...in...the dungeon..." he wheezed...and fainted dead away.

* * *

"Hermione!" Harry gasped.

They were walking down the corridors with the rest of the Gryffindors, Dumbledore having ordered the students back to their common rooms. Ron and Neville, walking beside him, could barely hear him over the frightened babble coming from most of the students.

"You, are, obsessed," Neville sighed.

"No!" Harry turned and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. "She doesn't know about the troll!"

"What do you want us to do about it?" Ron asked.

Since they had stopped, most of the students had passed them already, and soon they were alone in the corridor.

"We've got to find her," Harry insisted.

"Harry," Ron began, but he froze as they heard footsteps clicking sharply against the stone floor. "Hide, Percy's come back to find us!"

The trio dashed into an alcove set into the wall, hiding behind a stone griffin.

From their new vantage point they could see, not Percy, but Professor Snape walking rapidly down the hall. As they watched, he turned down a side corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Neville whispered after the coast was clear. "All of the teachers were supposed to be heading to the dungeon."

"Beats me," Ron said.

Harry was quietly moving down the hallway. He peeked around the wall to look where Snape had gone and moved back to the group. "He's headed for the third floor."

"Isn't that...?" Ron began, when he was shushed by Neville's hand.

"What's that smell?"

A heavy grunt answered his question as they spun around. At the far end of the corridor a lumbering figure stepped into view. They all dashed back into their hiding spot as the troll stepped out, its ears and nose wiggling slightly. Turning towards an open doorway, the troll slowly shuffled in, dragging its massive club behind it.

"Look," Harry pointed. "That door still has its key in the lock. We can trap it in there."

"Don't just stand there talking, let's just do it!" Ron said as he dashed across the hallway.

Harry and Neville followed Ron as they charged towards the door. They kicked the doorstop out from under it and quickly swung the door around, Neville locked it with a satisfying click.

"Alright," panted Harry, pulling out the key. "Neville, go down and find the teachers, tell them we've got the troll here. Ron and I will make sure it doesn't escape."

Neville nodded and ran for all he was worth.

It was a few moments of nervously looking around, when Ron spoke up.

"Say," he said, pointing at a sign. "This is a girl's bathroom."

Harry was about to ask him how that piece of information was important, when a high pitched scream floated through the closed door. Both of them looked at each other, then at the door.

"Oh sh-"

"Get the door open!" Harry shouted, his hands fumbling to get the key back into the lock.

"Unlock it first!"

"Trying!"

Finally he was able to twist the key around and Ron threw the bolt as they pulled on the door. They raced inside to find Hermione huddled in the far corner as the troll stalked towards her, smashing the sinks as it passed them.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted.

"Calling it names won't make it stop!" Ron said as he charged past him.

Harry glared at Ron as the other boy picked up a broken pipe.

"Distract it somehow!"

Harry reached over and picked up the remains of a faucet, banging it against an exposed pipe. The sound of metal striking metal echoed harshly in the relatively small room.

The troll paused at the sound, looking around in confusion. Finally it's eyes settled on Harry and began lumbering towards him.

"Oy!" Ron shouted, drawing its attention to him now. He was down at the other side of the bathroom now, his pipe in hand. "Over here, you pea-brain!" he said as he threw the pipe directly at the troll's head.

The troll stalked off towards its new target, the other two children completely forgotten. Harry quickly ran over to Hermione and latched onto her arm. "Come on, run!" He tugged again when she refused to budge. "Run!"

Suddenly she gasped and Harry spun around in time to see Ron diving to the side, avoiding the troll's club by mere centimeters.

"What are you two idiots doing?!" he bellowed as he scrambled back to his feet. "Get her out of here!"

Harry jumped to his feet and pulled out his wand. "STUPEFY!" he roared, sending a red stream towards the troll. He watched in horror as the spell merely bounced off the troll's back and smashed into the ceiling.

"Already tried that!" Ron's voice echoed. Harry belatedly noticed Ron's wand in his hand as he ducked to avoid another swing. He noticed the resigned expression on his friend's face as he ran out of room to maneuver, no way to escape the next blow

Lacking options, Harry acted on the first thought that crossed his mind. He ran as fast as he could, down the length of the bathroom, and jumped onto the troll's back. Even the impact of his body wasn't enough for the troll to notice. Bashing its head with his fists didn't work very well either. Harry settled for poking the troll in the eye, but as its head snapped around to track Ron, his wand ended up in its nostril.

Irritably, the troll raised its club to knock away this unwelcome intruder, but Harry dropped to the floor as it swung, clocking itself on the head. Dazed and irritated now, the troll lifted its club again as it swiveled around to look for a Harry that was less than a foot away.

As it held its club high, Ron brandished his own wand and said the first spell that came to his mind. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The troll blinked in confusion as it noted its empty hand. Still blinking, the troll craned its head back to stare at the floating club. It raised a hand to pluck it out of the air, when Ron waved his wand to remove the charm from it.

Harry held back a wince as the troll's club smashed its head. It wavered on its feet for a moment as the club bounced to the ground, then it keeled over and fell down on its face. He struggled to his feet as Ron looked at his wand in awe.

"Is it...dead?"

The two of them glanced over at Hermione, who was still curled up in the corner.

"I doubt it," Harry said nonchalantly as he walked over to the troll. He reached down and pulled out his wand, grimacing at the mucus connecting it the troll's nose. "Urgh..."

Ron made a face. "Troll boogers."

They all jumped as the door slammed open, looking over in time to see Professor McGonagall charge into the room, followed by Snape and Quirrell. Last through the door was a worried looking Neville, whose face relaxed as he saw them all standing. Quirrell took one look at the troll on the ground and fainted, Snape giving him a dark look before stepping over to the monster.

"What on earth were you THINKING?!" McGonagall said coldly. She looked from Hermione, supporting herself against the wall, to Harry, a goopy wand in his hand, to Ron, still frozen in the same position he'd been since he'd cast the Flying Charm. "You're lucky you weren't killed!"

She stepped away so she could face Neville with the rest of them. "Why aren't you all in your dormitories?" she demanded.

Harry and Neville began to make random blubbering statements, Snape sneering coldly at them as he rejoined the professors.

"Please, Professor McGonagall...they were looking for me." Hermione slowly got to her feet, her legs shaking slightly. "I went looking for the troll because I...I thought I could deal with it on my own...you know, because I've read all about them."

They stared at her in shock, the sound of Ron's wand dropping and rolling along the floor filling the silence. This was Hermione? Bossy, know-it-all, teacher's pet, bookworm Hermione? Who was this imposter that was lying to a teacher in order to cover up for them? And with a straight face!

"If they hadn't found me," she continued, "I'd probably be dead now." She gestured in Harry and Ron's direction. "They distracted it before it could kill me...and knocked it out with its own club."

The two in question schooled their expressions as McGonagall turned her frown on them. Her eyes flicked back to Neville.

"We sent Neville to find you when we discovered where the tr...where Hermione was," Harry said.

There was another tense silence as the two conscious professors stared at the four of them. In the silence, Ron bent down to retrieve his wand.

"Well," McGonagall sighed as he stood up again, "in that case..." She focused her eyes on Hermione. "Miss Granger, you were very foolish tonight. How could you even think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. Harry was silent, but not speechless. Hermione was the last person imaginable who'd break the rules, yet here she was taking the blame, just so they wouldn't get in trouble. He had a hard time keeping his mouth closed lest he spoil everything. It wasn't her fault! We locked her in here with it!

Right, THAT sounded so much better...

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your poor judgement. I'm very disappointed in you."

Hermione looked as if she'd prefer to have a half-dozen trolls beating her up rather than have that sentence directed at her.

McGonagall turned towards the boys. "Understand that you two were very lucky, not many first years could have accomplished what you did. Is anybody injured?"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other before they shook their heads.

"Five points to each of you for this task, another five for Mister Longbottom. I will inform the Headmaster of this, but you may all go now."

Solemnly, the four of them walked out of the room and set down the hallways. They walked in silence for several minutes as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Why?"

Hermione peeked out of the corner of her eyes to find Harry staring at her. "Why, what?"

"Why did you cover for us? Why did you take all the blame on yourself?"

She gave him a rueful grin, "You idiot, it's called being grateful. You did save my life..."

"Oh."

She saw Neville elbow Harry, and the two glared at each other for a moment before exchanging harsh whispers that she couldn't overhear.

"Hermione?" that was Ron.

She sighed quietly and waited a heartbeat before she looked at him.

"About earlier...about what I said..."

She waited.

Ron sighed, "I'm sorry for being such a prat, okay?"

She laughed, the clear sound startling them all. "Don't apologize now, Ron, I'm sure you'll need it for sometime in the future as well."

"Hey!" he said angrily, as the other two boys joined her laughter. It was another few moments before the color faded from Ron's face and he began laughing as well.

They stood there, chasing away the realization that any one of them could have been killed. They laughed until they cried, and they laughed some more. Finally, they relaxed, finally they allowed themselves to feel exhaustion.

They gave the Fat Lady the password to the common room, but not before she had given a short lecture about staying out so late and was it true there was a troll on the school grounds she hadn't seen the students that scared since the time that-

Neville slammed the portrait shut, cutting her off, and walked over to the other three.

"I guess we'll be going off to bed now," he said as he headed towards the stairs to the boy's dormitory. The other two turned to follow him.

"Wait," Hermione said.

They paused at the foot of the stairs, waiting.

Harry watched as she chewed on her bottom lip, trying to find the right words. She looked at them, in turn, and he liked to think her eyes had stayed on his face a fraction of a second longer than the others.

"Thanks," she said at last.

"No problem," Harry said as the other two grunted acknowledgements. "You'd do the same for us, right?"

Her nervous smile was answer enough and they each headed up to their respective dormitories after exchanging "good night"s.

"So, Harry," stated The Boy Who Lived. "Now that she appears to hate us no longer, are we still going to be working on The Plan?"

The Other Boy Who Lived blinked behind his glasses. "After all that work we put into planning it?" He grinned, "Of course we are!"

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The Boys Who Lived

Chapter 6: Suspicious Severus Snape

The day had started so well...

This thought ran repeatedly through Neville Longbottom's head as he gazed towards the sky. It was a bright and sunny day, with nary a cloud in the sky. It was the sort of weather for which most people would spend their time relaxing in, gladly shirking whatever responsibilities they had.

It was the first inter-house Quidditch match of the season at Hogwarts, a match that everybody had been anticipating for weeks. There had been numerous wagers in place throughout the other three houses on who'd be the new Gryffindor Seeker, since by now it had become common knowledge that Gryffindor had been the only house this year that hadn't run tryouts of any sort.

To Wood's delight, not a single soul amongst those houses had even guessed that Harry Potter would fill the spot, and with a sparkling new Nimbus Two-Thousand no less. Not even Draco Malfoy, who'd even been witness to a surreptitious meeting between Professor McGonagall and Harry, had put the obvious clues together.

Neville had mentally shrugged. Malfoy was fairly bright, he knew that from his test scores, but the Slytherin seemed to have a huge deficiency when it came to intuitive guesswork. His failure to surmise why the Gryffindor's Head of House had given Harry the Nimbus was just another mark on the checklist Neville was tallying in his head, as was the shocked look on his face as the Gryffindor Quidditch team marched into the Great Hall for breakfast, resplendent in their red and gold trimmed robes.

To Neville's mind, the shock that rippled through the other three houses had been one event in a long chain of events that should have resulted in being a Really Good Day. He had been able to sleep a bit later than usual since today was a weekend. Upon checking Trevor's tank, a routine he'd reluctantly added to his schedule after a few...incidents had occurred in the common room, he had found his toad asleep, with the tank itself still securely closed.

But after breakfast, things had rapidly gone downhill.

As Neville had walked back to the common room, he ran into Malfoy and his two cronies. The irritated Slytherin, deprived of venting against his usual target, had apparently settled on taking it out on the first Gryffindor he'd seen. Unfortunately, that had been Neville.

Then, as Neville had hopped towards the Fat Lady, he'd chanced upon Professor Snape in a sour mood; not that he could remember Snape in any other mood. His punishment for accidentally knocking over the Potions Master had resulted in a five-point loss from Gryffindor, followed by another five for slandering the name of a certain student after Neville had tried to explain the Leg-Locker Curse that he'd been victim too.

Snape had quickly moved out of sight, but not before Neville had noticed the professor favoring his leg, limping away as he'd stalked down the hall.

When he finally returned to the safety of the common room, he became aware of a certain amount of shouting floating down from the girl's dormitory. An unpleasant thought crossed his mind, a fear that was confirmed when Hermione marched down from the upper levels, toad in hand.

It didn't take much to figure out what had happened, especially considering the state her hair had been, so Neville immediately moved forward, mumbling apologies as he went. Of course, he'd forgotten about the curse momentarily, but in retrospect, the pain of smashing headlong into the carpeting was much better than what an angry bookworm could do with a VERY large book in hand.

Hermione had quickly cast the counter curse, after which he'd gratefully taken Trevor back up to his dorm room while she went back to her room to tame her hair. He'd replaced the toad in his tank, sealing a broken hinge with liberal applications of Spell-o-tape, and joined Ron as they went back down to the common room. The two of them had waited for Hermione to return before they set off for the Quidditch Pitch.

It was a situation both boys were still getting used to. Although Hermione had been more civil towards them following the night of Halloween, the situation between them hadn't changed all that much. She and Ron still seemed to argue over the most trivial of things, while the actions of Neville's toad did nothing to endear him to her. Even Harry, who'd gone out of his way to avoid antagonizing her, was under a certain amount of suspicion, mostly because he had been behaving while his two closest friends seemed to be getting into her hair.

In spite of her suspicions, she'd been willing to help them with their schoolwork, or at least with their writing assignments. Also despite their efforts of the past term, she still outstripped all three of them in nearly every class, although she had admitted they were doing better than she'd given them credit for. And while she didn't realize it, she was the perfect sounding board for them as they used her to assist in research for The Plan.

After the first week, however, when it quickly became apparent that they were the only real companions she had, even Ron had stopped teasing her about her scholarly habits...at least not as much. Their change of attitude towards her had been reciprocated, which had resulted in inviting her to watch Harry's first match with them...

* * *

...Which was where Neville found himself now, silently bemoaning the events of the day. Watching helplessly as his best friend, flying hundreds of meters above the ground, seemed to be giving his best impression of a muggle cowboy on a bucking bronco.

"Dunno what 'Arry thinks he's doing," a deep voice mumbled from his side. They'd met Hagrid while climbing up to the spectator's boxes. The gamekeeper had a large pair of binoculars held up to his eyes as he watched the Gryffindor seeker.

Neville looked past him and met Hermione's eyes staring back at him with equal concern. The two looked back to the sky as Harry's broom gave another wild jerk, nearly unseating him.

"If I didn' know better," Hagrid continued, "I'd say he'd lost control of his broom...but he can't have..."

"He's been like that since the Slytherin captain nearly knocked him over," piped up Ron.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" whispered Seamus Finnigan from his other side.

The whole crowd was aware of Harry's plight now, a collective gasp as another random course change finally throwing Harry clear, only his quick reflexes had managed to save him as he grabbed onto his unwieldy broom.

"No student could do something like that," Hagrid boomed with certainty. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful magic. Dark Magic, I'd say."

Neville threw his head into his hands. The day had started so well...

There was an exclamation from Hermione, and he turned as he watched her scan the crowd with Hagrid's binoculars.

"What are you doing?" Ron sputtered.

In response the witch pressed the binoculars against his head, swiveling both so that they pointed down the field to where the professors were sitting.

"Snape," she whispered. "Look, he's doing something...jinxing the broom or something."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked doubtfully as he passed the binoculars over to Neville.

"Of course," Hermione hissed.

Neville looked over the crowds and quickly found Professor Snape. Like almost everybody else in the pitch, his eyes were focused straight on the struggling Harry Potter. Unlike the rest, however, his mouth was moving, a consistent motion which gave him the appearance of muttering under his breath.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

As Hermione ran for the stairs, Ron took the binoculars back and turned them towards Harry. As he did so, Neville glanced towards the players. Though most of the stadium was aware of Harry's plight, Madam Hooch seemed to be of the opinion about continuing the game, and Oliver Wood was still staring in shock as his Seeker struggled to right himself. Neville noticed as the Slytherins used the handy distraction to send the quaffle past the Gryffindor Keeper, though poor aim resulted in a scant five goals being scored.

Ron gave a sort of strangled cheer and Neville snapped his head back to the sky. Harry had finally remounted his broom and was diving for the ground, his face pale. He'd made it halfway to the ground when he suddenly threw his hand up to his mouth, looking like he was about to be sick. As the crowd watched in horror, his shoulders heaved, spitting the contents of his mouth into his gloved hand.

A sparkle caught Neville's eye, which he pointed out to Ron just as the crowd erupted into cheers. By a stroke of luck, Harry had managed to 'catch' the Snitch, ending the game in Gryffindor's victory.

* * *

"He did what?" Harry demanded.

Hagrid had volunteered to let Harry recover from the match in his hut, seeing as he had no lasting injuries to warrant a trip to the Hospital Wing. The five of them sat around Hagrid's oversized table, each cradling a mug of hot tea.

"He was cursing you," Ron explained. "We saw Snape doing it. He was just...staring at you, mumbling."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid. Having focused all of his attention on Harry, he hadn't heard anything the others had been talking about. "Why would Professor Snape - and don't you forget his rank even in your thoughts - want ter do somethin' like that?"

"I don't know," Hermione said grudgingly. "But I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. I've read all about them. You have to keep eye contact, and Sna...Professor Snape wasn't blinking at all! I saw him!"

"How'd you stop him anyhow?" asked Harry.

"I...er..." Hermione looked a bit embarrassed. "I set fire to his robes." She pulled out a small jar, inside it was a blue flame. "It's very handy spell to know," she explained. "It can burn for a very long time, even in strong winds, and you can carry the flames around like this."

"Yeh haven't answered my question," Hagrid rumbled impatiently.

Neville looked up as something occurred to him. "Harry," he said, "remember that night on Halloween..."

"How could we forget," Harry scoffed. He shot a quick glance at Hermione, which she appeared not to have seen.

"But do you remember how we saw Snape- (Hagrid rumbled) Professor Snape alone in the corridors?"

"He was heading for the restricted section!" Harry leaned forward. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"He must have seen you, Harry!" Ron said. "He didn't want you to tell anybody, so he tried to kill you!"

"It's been weeks since Halloween," Hermione interjected. "And it's only us students that aren't allowed to go there, I'm sure the rule doesn't apply towards professors."

"Has anybody noticed Snape's got a limp now?" Neville asked. He ignored the glare Hagrid threw at him. "I ran into him today, just noticed it."

"He looked like he'd gotten slashed up on Halloween, now that I think about it." Harry looked over at Hagrid. "As if he'd gotten into a fight with...something."

Hermione's eyes widened and she also looked at Hagrid, who was starting to look a bit uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

"Yeh aren't talkin' about Fluffy now, are yeh?" he demanded.

"Fluffy?" Ron exclaimed.

"Oops."

"That reminds me," Hermione said. She reached into her robes and pulled out a large stack of parchments and quills, quickly stuffing the latter back into a pocket. She started sorting through the parchments, "I remember reading at the beginning of the term, there was an attempted break in at Gringotts Bank."

Ron's eyes bugged out at the size of the stack, a reaction that the others chose to ignore, even if they felt the same way.

Hermione finally found what she'd been looking for and dropped an article of the Daily Prophet onto the table. She waited long enough for the boys to each read through the article once before turning towards Hagrid with an apologetic smile.

"I remember someone once told me that even the wizard bank had nothing on a certain school when it came to keeping something safe," she said quietly.

"'Gringotts Goblins today insist that nothing had been taken,'" Neville read as he traced a line. "'The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that day.'"

"I first met Hagrid while my parents and I were wandering down Diagon Alley," Hermione said. "He was so nice, showing us around, even my parents were glad for his help."

"Hermione..." the half-giant warned.

"He took us to Gringotts so we could convert some of my parents' money into Wizarding currency," she continued. "It was no problem for him, he said. He had business there already..."

Hagrid was silent for long moments as the boys digested this information.

"Are you saying that Hagrid tried to rob Gringotts?" Neville finally asked. He winced as Harry clapped him on the back of his head.

"WHAT? No!" Hermione exclaimed as Hagrid made similar remarks. "Hagrid probably took what was in that vault and brought it to Hogwarts!"

"Dumbledore must have guessed it might have been stolen," Harry mused. "My Dad's always said the old wizard must be part seer, his intuition is just astounding."

"So he had Hagrid bring...whatever-it-is to Hogwarts, so that they could guard it here?"

They turned towards Hagrid again, who was looking very irritated now. "Tha's right," he admitted. "All the professors are guarding it," he stabbed a finger at Harry, "even Professor Snape! Not that anybody would get past Fluffy anyhow."

"Snape's trying to steal it, Hagrid!" Harry insisted. "He tried to KILL me because he thinks we know!"

Hagrid waved his arms. "I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong! I dunno why Harry's broom acted like it did, but Snape wouldn' be tryin' to kill a student!" He pointed at each of them in turn. "Now listen to me, all of yeh, yer meddlin' in things that dun concern yeh. Leave it alone, forget about Snape, forget about that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin'! That's strictly between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel and it doesn't-"

He suddenly blinked and looked at their faces with growing horror. "Out!" he roared. He began ushering them towards the door. "Out! An' remember what I told yeh all! ...Except for the last part, forget about that! But the part about forgetting, remember the forgetting! Forget the remembering, the last...ah, I shouldn'ta told yeh that..." he mumbled.

He slammed the door shut as they left, leaving them wondering who Nicolas Flamel was.

* * *

Winter soon fell upon the school in the form of a fierce snowstorm. Though the skies cleared after a few days, the cold that had come with it had seeped through the whole school, leaving only the House Common Rooms and the Great Hall comfortably warm.

Despite the dreadful conditions, the students' morale was high with the prospect of the Christmas Holidays, mostly for the break from classes, although some were anticipating seeing their families for the first time in months since they were heading back to their homes.

Ron and his brothers were staying at the school, however, since his parents had gone to visit another one of his brothers, Charlie, in Romania.

"He's a dragon keeper," Ron had explained.

Neville's grandmother had written to him, telling him to stay at Hogwarts since she didn't have the energy to deal with him so soon after she'd finally gotten him out of the house. Perhaps in response, Harry's dad had wrote him, telling him he could also stay Harry wanted to.

Of course, since it was usually quite rare that students stayed at the school for the holidays, word got around. Malfoy had been especially bitter about Slytherin losing their Quidditch match and had gone around spreading the rumor that the trio was unwanted by their own families.

"I really feel for you, Potter," Malfoy said as they left Potions. He was rubbing his hands together to stay warm, since Snape's dungeon was one of the coldest rooms in the castle. "Longbottom has no parents and Weasley just has the misfortune of being a Weasley, but I expected you at least to be welcome in your own home."

Harry, who was still upset that Malfoy had hexed Neville before the Quidditch match, lazily flicked his wand over his shoulder. "Accio Helmet," he chanted. He took a few more steps before he heard the satisfying clang of an armored helm connecting with the back of Malfoy's skull, ending the pale boy's taunting.

The headless suit of armor across the hall made a rude gesture as its head clattered to the ground, the dazed Slytherin following it down.

* * *

"Queen to H-4."

". . ."

"Sorry Harry, that's checkmate."

"That was only two moves!!!"

"It's your own fault for moving your pawns that way." Ron grinned and leaned back into his chair.

"I think that was the shortest game of Wizard's Chess I've ever seen."

"Sod off, Neville."

The Christmas Holidays had come so swiftly that even remembering the last few weeks of classes was difficult. The three of them, along with the Weasley twins, had spent the first part of their day engaged in a huge snowball fight. Though the trio had fought well, Fred and George had far too many years of experience against their older brothers under their belt and had used their knowledge mercilessly against their youngest brother and his friends. The minor avalanche they'd set off certainly hadn't made their fight any easier.

After the trio had dug themselves out, they had gone back to the common room to warm themselves up. It was there that Ron had decided on a game of Wizard's Chess, a game exactly the same as the muggle version, except for the small fact that the pieces in Wizard's Chess were animated and somewhat self-aware. They also tended to be unnecessarily vicious.

In all fairness, it was Harry's first game of Wizard's Chess. His father wasn't much of a player, and he couldn't play with Neville either since his Gran wouldn't let him get within wand distance of a board. However, he still couldn't keep a wince from his face as Ron's Queen marched up to his King and took off its head with its own scepter.

"Another game?" Ron asked.

"That's alright," said Harry as he slid out of his seat.

Neville took his place, "I'll try."

Harry watched silently as the pieces pulled themselves back together and stalked back to their respective squares. He seemed to be brooding a lot, ever since Hermione had left for her vacation. To anybody else he'd seem perfectly normal, since Harry was very good at hiding his emotions.

To Neville, who'd known him since before he could remember, his face was as readable as a page from a children's book, one with big bright BOLD letters. Neville gave one last look at his friend and sighed. He's obsessed... He turned back to the game...

...and blinked. "What the-"

"Checkmate," Ron said cheerfully. "You did better than Harry though, three moves this time."

"Bloody hell..."

"I'm going to the library," Harry suddenly said as he stood up.

"Now? What for?"

"Research."

"Harry, we've already worked out most of The Plan." Neville stood up too, throwing a glare at his chess pieces. "It's just a matter of waiting for the 'opportune moment,' as you keep saying."

Harry looked pained. "Neville, I don't have a one-track mind, you know. We need to look up Nicolas Flamel."

"No," Ron said. "We did that during almost all of our spare time since the game. Between that and The Plan, I'm sick of the library right now..."

"Go ahead and stay here then." Harry peeked out of the portrait hole. "I just want to know what Hagrid's dog is guarding."

Neville followed him out but he poked his head back in to look at Ron before he closed the portrait. "I'm going too. I'm curious to know what's in there that Snape thinks is worth killing for."

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