Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Archive- No part of this story may be publicly archived without my express written consent. What does this mean? Well, ladies and gentlemen, it means that if you want to post this story on a different site you MUST send me a PM and ask permission. If I don't respond, assume that the answer was no.

This little plot bunny has been working its way around in my head since I read a short fic by Mathiasgranger entitled The Potter Granger Manifesto.

The ship you are about to embark on is the HMS H/Hr. If that is not your intended vessel, abandon ship now, there will be no life rafts provided.

The following story is not Weasley friendly, consider yourself warned.

Chapter 1

28 July 2005
Unplottable Location
British Isles

A tall dark haired man sat in an armchair staring at the telephone. He just had a disturbing conversation with his mother-in-law and needed to speak with his wife.

"Harry?"

Looking up, the man found her chocolate eyes looking at him with concern and he smiled reassuringly. "Mum is on her way over."

Frowning, the woman asked, "Is something wrong?"

He took her hand and said, "Everyone is fine, she just came across some disturbing information and thought we should see it."

"Disturbing information? Where? How?"

Harry chuckled, she would never change. They'd known each other for fourteen years and had been married for eight of those years. If there was information to be found, she wanted it. "Hermione, she'll be here any minute, just wait until she can explain."

Hermione sighed and then nodded. She ran up the stairs to change out of her dressing gown and into something appropriate to wear in front of her mother. She knew she didn't have much time. Her parents and younger siblings lived in a cottage on the far side of the property, safe within the protection of the wards, safe from those that after all this time would love to get back at them. Far enough away from the main house and the ambient magic that wreaked havoc on the Potters' electronics and interfered frequently with their use of electricity. Far enough away that it did not affect the cottage, except on rare occasions.

Just as Hermione returned to the sitting room, the front door opened and two adults and two children entered the house.

Harry smiled and shook his head. Edward and Elinor Granger had become his parents. Since he was eleven years old, they were there for him. Not in a smothering controlling overbearing way, but used gentle admonishments and guidance. Elinor's ginger hair, crystal blue eyes, and milky complexion were a stark contrast to Edward's olive skin, brown hair and eyes. Hermione had inherited all three from her father, but the rest was all her mother. From her thick curls to her slender ankles, even her need to know, her thirst for knowledge came from her mother. Harry reckoned that it was a family trait displayed by females; it went along with the occasional bossiness. He knew Elinor's mother and she was not any different. In fact, it was a trait that his daughter had in abundance and any additional daughters that they had in the future, he was sure would be the same way.

Of course, it came with a price. Along with the ability to sniff out a library or bookshop blindfolded, came the inability to cook. Putting on a kettle for tea was all that any of them were allowed to do. Using magic did not help Hermione in the kitchen. In fact, it made the clean up worse.

Elinor was clutching several shopping bags to her chest and after a quick word to the two children that accompanied them, the youths headed up the stairs to the game room that Harry insisted that he put in for the children. He fooled no one, especially his wife.

"Mum?" asked Hermione.

"I know we've talked about it before, Hermione. Albus and Minerva explained why it was done, so I let it go all of these years. Since I felt that I had a pretty decent grasp on what happened, I never bothered to check. We really should have." She continued walking until she was in the kitchen standing next to the table.

The younger couple looked at each other and Harry shook his head. "Mum, I don't understand. What should we have checked?"

Elinor and Edward each took a shopping bag and dumped them onto the table. Out came six large books, each with the name Harry Potter written across the front. There were also two thin books that looked like smaller paperback versions of something they had in the house library.

"Mum was most disturbed Tuesday. She rang and insisted that I come to see her right away, but not tell anyone," explained Elinor. "The new book came out last week, um, this one," she held up Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, "and there was a reading at the local library. She attended, thinking that it would be a lark."

"We've told her a bit of what happened," said Hermione. "Inferi were probably new to her, but considering that she was living with us at the time, nothing should have been too shocking."

Edward broke in, "That's just it, Hermione. Your mum came home and we went straight to the bookshop. Between the two of us we've read all six books, both reading the sixth. This is not what Albus and Minerva promised. You wouldn't believe some of what is written here and the things that she says." The man's lips pursed and he half spat, "Harry ends up with Ginny Weasley and you, Hermione, end up with Ron."

"I'd take my chances with Malfoy," mumbled Hermione as she picked up one of the books and began to thumb through it.

Harry snorted. "We both know that I'm more his type than you, love, so I don't think that will happen."

*~*HP*~*

26 December 1995
Granger Residence
England

Edward Granger shook his head and said, "Explain to me, one more time, Professor, exactly why you think that exposing my children to this sort of public scrutiny is a good idea. The things that the Prophet has been saying about him have been borderline liable as it is. We've been thinking about contacting our solicitor. This will just make things worse."

"I understand your concerns Mr. Granger, I truly do, but the hardliners in the Ministry won't read it. Even our Muggle-borns tend to gradually shy away from Muggle literature once they leave school, especially those that marry into magical families. The only ones that will read it are Muggle and they will think it a fictional story. Not much different than The Wizard of Oz or The Lord of the Rings," Albus Dumbledore placated. He was a tall man with a long crooked nose, long white hair and a beard that went well past his middle.

After years of corruption within the Ministry, no one of power could be swayed that Voldemort had indeed finally returned. It had been a horrible six months and things weren't going to get better anytime soon. There was no money to fight against the evil that was taking root and in one of her more out of the box moments, Minerva McGonagall suggested that they sell Harry's story as a Muggle fantasy tale. The writer and publishing company were all lined up. All that was left was for the Grangers to give permission for their children to be used like this.

Jane Fairfax cleared her throat and asked, "How much artistic license does this writer get? How do we know she isn't going to change it all or twist the story?"

Minerva McGonagall looked over at Hermione Granger's grandmother and nodded. It was a very good question. The older witch sat down, pulled out the contract, and pointed to several locations that dealt with the story line. "That all depends on the topic. She is required to follow an outline that will be provided to her. We all agree that perhaps it would be better if the outline came from Hermione, she has more intimate knowledge of the children's adventures. We will permit the writer to embellish dialogue, create more magical settings that seem to fit into the Muggle ideals of what our world is supposed to look like, and add short or minor scenes to help the reader along. Small things really. She is not allowed to make significant changes to the storyline. As much as she might want it, Hermione will not be sorted into Ravenclaw nor will Harry walk off into the sunset with Miss Brown."

Harry and Hermione had spoken about this at length. Neither of them was sure, but they were out of options, the resistance needed money and this was the best option they had. A large withdrawal from Gringotts would not only alert the Ministry, it had the potential to destabilize the wizarding economy.

*~*HP*~*

30 July 2005
Unplottable Location
British Isles

Harry Potter just set the last book down and looked at his wife with horror in his emerald eyes. "That was different."

"I'll say. I'm just glad that she changed Aunt Lavender's name," said Hermione who had been reading curled up in an armchair. "Granted she's not the warmest woman I've ever met, but feeding you through a cat flap never happened."

"She didn't exactly change it; she just switched it with Petunia Brown." Harry sighed and ran his hands through his unruly black hair. "I think that it is time we make an appointment to see the writer. We need to find out just what happened to the story we gave her and there are quite a few things she needs to make right before the seventh book comes out."

Hermione crawled into bed and cuddled up next to her husband as she had been doing every night for many years. The thought of either of them living the life this woman imagined for them was enough to make her shudder. "We aren't going to be able to make an appointment to see her using the names Harry and Hermione Potter," said Hermione. "We need to come up with something else."

"We'll use Grammy's name. She won't know that," said Harry.

"Nox," said Hermione. The lights in the room were extinguished. "The contract says we are permitted to meet with her if we need to, I'll ring the publishing company tomorrow to set something up."

*~*HP*~*

19 August 2005
Scotland

A young woman showed the two visitors into a study and left them alone. It was a good sized home with a significant amount of Muggle security. Something like that might keep out the Muggle criminals, but wouldn't stand a chance against a wizard. Harry shook his head. Ultimately, the writer had been a pawn in the recent war and with all that she knew, if certain factions ever found out, there would be trouble.

As a middle-aged Muggle woman walked into the room, Hermione felt her husband cancel his glamour charm. A woman with brown hair and eyes was commonplace enough, but black hair and bright emerald eyes along with his trademark glasses and faint scar was not something that would go unnoticed in this house.

The woman took a step forward and said, "It's nice to meet you Ms Fairfax. My publisher said that you are a representative from your ministry."

Hermione smiled, extended her hand, and said, "Not exactly, Jane Fairfax is my maternal grandmother. I felt that it would be best to use her name as opposed to my own."

The woman frowned. She looked at the man standing just behind the woman and took in his features. She gasped, "You… are you really Harry Potter?"

Harry just nodded.

"I've wanted to meet you for some time, but I was told that it was impossible. Molly has been quite insistent on that."

"Molly?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, I presumed that since you know her so well, that you knew that she was my contact," the flustered woman stated as she indicated two chairs.

Realization dawned on the two magical people in the room. "Just to clarify," said Harry as the two of them sat, "Molly Weasley is who has been giving you information."

The writer smiled and nodded. She then looked at the woman with whom she had the appointment and the realization of who she was hit her. "You must be Hermione Weasley. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Weasley?" said Hermione with a frown. "Merlin no, my name is Hermione Potter."

"Potter?" said the confused woman. She shook her head and said, "I'm sorry. I was told that you were married to Ron Weasley."

Harry snorted. "Not bloody likely. The traitorous git."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Ron Weasley is dead and has been for a number of years now. Honestly, from where we sit, it isn't a bad thing."

The writer looked at Harry and said, "So you and Ginny Weasley…"

"Never happened. Not that someone didn't try, on several occasions by using illegal methods, but no, I've never looked at her twice and quite frankly, other than the twins, I don't know the Weasley family that well at all."

"But you've stayed with them summers after you were able to leave Privet Drive and Molly was a second mother to you," the writer protested.

"Um, no. I spent every holiday with Hermione since I was eleven. We'd visit Neville on occasion and there were a couple of times we stopped by the Burrow to have a game of Quidditch with the twins, but not more than a few hours and not after fourth year. As far as someone being a second mother, my birth parents were James and Lily Potter, but my parents are Edward and Elinor Granger and I've thought of them as such for quite a long time now."

"Mrs. Potter?"

"Please, call me Hermione. It sounds like you have been horribly misled. We'll have to make a few inquiries as to why she was the one appointed to liaise with you, most of those close to us were aware of her, um, issues." Hermione looked at her husband who nodded. "Perhaps we should start at the beginning."

"Do you mind if I take notes?"

Hermione pulled out a beaded handbag and reached inside. She handed over several Muggle style notebooks and a dicta-quill. "This will save your hand. It will record everything we say and this way you can go back and review it later."

Harry cleared his throat. "One thing I want to mention, we've read several interviews that you have given recently about Harry marrying Hermione and how you feel that she is not compatible with him. We've been married for a long time and I promise you, while we do argue on occasion, we are very compatible. We know that you can't go back and change the previous six books, we are asking that you fix a bit of it for the seventh, actually we are demanding it, but hopefully we can find some middle ground where the two stories actually meet."

Annoyed that someone was about to dictate the ending of her story to her, the writer frowned and was about to speak when she was cut off by Hermione. "After you listen to our tale, I think you will understand why it is important to us that certain changes be made. Like Harry said, it's too late to change some things, but hopefully we can reach a consensus and you can go from there."

"We can talk after I listen."

Hermione handed Harry the first book and he grinned at her. He opened to the first chapter and said, "It all began the day after my eleventh birthday."

*~*HP*~*

1 August 1991
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
England

"Harry, get down here, now," bellowed Vernon Derby. He was a heavyset man with thinning light brown hair and a walrus mustache. Those weirdos that were coming to speak with his wife's nephew would be here any minute and he'd just as soon as not have to deal with them alone. They always made him nervous. After he saw what happened to his sister-in-law's house, someone that had the power to do something like that on a whim made him ill at ease. The boy didn't know about his secret yet. They decided years ago that it would be best if his own kind told him, answered his questions.

Lavender knew next to nothing about the daily ins and outs of the world in which her sister belonged, what little she did know was from conversations that the two had over holidays and letters exchanged by owl, but with almost ten years difference in their ages, Lavender was off to secondary school then university by the time Lily was interested in just talking to her older sister and when their parents died in that car crash, Lily was already seventeen, of age in the magical world and didn't need her sister to look after her. Lavender did insist that she wait until she was eighteen to marry the Potter boy. That is what their parents would have wanted.

What she did know about was the danger and the hatred. Lavender had been warned by her sister, had been told of the evils that they were fighting against and of a prophesy that dictated their lives.

"I'm coming, Uncle Vernon," called a child's voice from the next room.

Vernon Derby was a strict disciplinarian. He expected children to tow the line and any sign of disrespect was met with time in the cupboard. "Watch your cheek, boy, or you will find yourself in the cupboard."

While it was, true that Harry did spend quite a bit of time in there, his cousin Dudley found it to be a second home or at least he did before he became too large to fit through the door. Vernon and Lavender Derby were beside themselves about what to do about their son. He was rude, foul mouthed, aggressive, made poor marks at school, and on top of everything else, he was roughly the size of a baby killer whale. It didn't help that Vernon's sister Maggie was constantly sending him sweets and toys in the post. A gift or two arrived weekly for Dudley by Royal Mail. The Derbys hid the packages from Dudley when they could, but the boy had taken to meeting the postman at the curb to prevent this from happening. They were hoping that Smeltings Academy would be the answer. The only other option for them was Stonewall High, and it would just make matters worse.

"I'm sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect," said the scrawny eleven year old with black hair and vibrant green eyes.

Vernon sighed. Harry had on his spare glasses and even these were taped together. That meant that Dudley had taken his other pair and broken them, again. The pair that they received from the NHS were not as attractive as the pair they paid for, but the Derbys felt that it was a wise idea to take them anyway to be used a spare should anything happen to the pair they bought. Unfortunately, in the last few years Dudley thought it funny to snatch Harry's glasses off his face and break them, forcing him to wear the unsightly glasses.

"I'm sure you didn't, boy," he patted the child on the head awkwardly. "Where did he put them this time?"

"I don't know," said Harry shaking his head. "Aunt Lavender is looking for them."

Vernon nodded. "Do you remember what we told you yesterday?"

"Yes, sir. Someone is coming from that school that you registered me in, the one in Scotland, and the representative is coming to talk to me about it today and then I going on an outing to London with him."

"That is correct. Now, stay downstairs until he gets here and after we introduce you, go put on some tea."

"Yes sir."

The doorbell rang and Lavender ran down the stairs and headed to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and ushered the three most unusual people Harry had ever seen into the lounge.

All three of them looked to be dressed for Hallowe'en. The oldest was a man in lilac colored robes with silver spangles. His hair was white and his long beard was tucked into the waistband of his trousers. He shook Vernon and Lavender's hands and then smiled at Harry.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Potter. I am Albus Dumbledore and I will be your headmaster."

Harry swallowed. He looked out the corner of his eye to his aunt who was speaking in hushed tones to the lone woman of the trio. The woman wore green tartan robes and her black hair was mostly hidden from view by a green witch's hat. Lavender handed the woman the broken glasses and Harry swore that he saw them repair instantly.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"Harry," Uncle Vernon said sternly.

"Yes sir. I'm sorry. But," his aunt held out the freshly repaired spectacles and traded with him. "Uncle Vernon? Aunt Lavender?"

Vernon Derby understood the child's confusion, but he did not want these people to think that he allowed anyone to be disrespectful in his home. With all the trouble that Dudley caused with the neighbors it was bad enough, but he had done well with Harry. He was a respectful young man and polite to his elders.

"I think we should sit down and talk. There is quite a bit that the headmaster needs to speak with you about, Harry. Run along and set the tea while I have a quick word," said Vernon.

As soon as Harry was out of earshot Vernon said, "You received our letter then? You know that we never explained it to the boy, didn't know how?"

"What does he think happened to his parents?" asked the woman.

"Murdered," said Lavender. "An immoral man broke in, killed James, then headed upstairs and killed Lily and somehow, inexplicably, he survived with just the scar. It's about as close to the truth as we could come and not mention your kind."

"You're sure that he will be safe?" asked Vernon. "He may stay here and be tutored by your lot if there is any doubt."

Albus Dumbledore sat down in the chair offered to him and he peered over his half-moon spectacles at the two non-magical people in the room. Granted they didn't love the boy like their own, but they did genuinely care about him and have done what they could to provide him with a normal childhood.

"Alas, there is no way that Harry can learn what he needs to learn by staying here. I give you my word that I will do everything I can to ensure his safety, but there will come a time that he will fulfill his destiny. I do regret that by removing him from your home to attend school that we will be breaking the protections that his mother's sacrifice provided. You both understand just what that means?"

"Yes," replied Vernon. "You have made that clear on several occasions."

A voice from the doorway called, "I've the tray set, Aunt Lavender."

"I'll be right there to help you." The woman stood and walked into the kitchen. Several moments later, she and Harry appeared each carrying a tray. Lavender's laden with a tea service and Harry's a plate a biscuits.

"Harry, sit down please," said Albus Dumbledore. Once the boy was sitting, he continued. "As I introduced myself earlier, you know that I will be your headmaster. The woman next to me will be one of your teachers."

"Hello, Harry. I am Minerva McGonagall."

"Hello. What do you teach?"

McGonagall smiled thinly and said, "As close as I can describe it to you would be physics."

"But it's not physics?" asked the boy.

"You will understand in just a bit."

"Rubeus Hagrid. I'm the, er, um, well game keeper I s'pose," said the tall man. He was easily the largest person Harry had ever seen. He took up the space of two people and when he stood, he had to duck so as not to hit his head on the ceiling.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Hagrid."

"Jus' Hagrid," smiled the man.

"Excellent," stated Albus Dumbledore, "now as we are all acquainted, we may continue. As your aunt and uncle have explained to you, we will be having a bit of an orientation for new students this afternoon."

"Yes sir," replied Harry. "But, if you please, what is the name of the school. No one's told me."

"Ahh. Yes. Well, that is because your aunt and uncle were unsure just how to explain some of it to you. The school you will be attending is called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry started to laugh. Surely, this must be some kind of joke. When he looked at his aunt and uncle, they weren't laughing. In fact no one was.

"Come again."

Albus Dumbledore smiled and said, "You, Mr. Potter, are a wizard."

*~*HP*~*

19 August 2005
Scotland

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt, but what about all the letters and the shack in the middle of the North Sea?"

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Well, it is true, I didn't get a letter close to my birthday, my aunt and uncle received it and accepted for me and sent it back along with a letter explaining that they had not yet told me I was a wizard."

"So Hagrid didn't come rescue you? He didn't take you to Diagon Alley to do your shopping?"

Harry smiled and said, "No, there was no need to be rescued and the only time I've been on an island in the North Sea was when I visited Azkaban. As for the shopping? That did happen. After Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall explained to me about the magical world and what really happened to my parents, we Portkeyed to Diagon Alley and they left me with Hagrid to do my shopping while they prepared for the orientation."

"So you did get Hedwig?"

"Absolutely. Aunt Lavender gave me some Muggle money for my birthday and told me that she had something very specific that she wanted me to buy with it and would tell me later. She knew that my mum corresponded by owl and she wanted me to have one. After learning that Hagrid was in charge of all the animals at Hogwarts, it seemed like a good idea to have him choose for me. He didn't like any that were in my price range so he told me that he'd planned to get me a birthday gift as it was so he would make up the difference. And he did."

"You didn't live in a cupboard?"

Harry, again, shook his head. "No. I did spend a bit of time in one. That was how Uncle Vernon disciplined us, but I had a bedroom. It was the smallest in the house; Dudley had lived in his for a few months before I moved in, and so it was reasonable for me to get the smaller room. Uncle Vernon was very strict, but he wasn't the monster that you portrayed in your books. Dudley was about right and so was Aunt Maggie, but not Aunt Lavender or Uncle Vernon."

"I thought it was Petunia and Marge?"

"Um, no," said Hermione. "I don't know where you got Marge, but her name is Maggie, or Margaret actually, and Petunia was one of our year mates. She was a Gryffindor. I think you have Aunt Lavender confused with Petunia Brown. You switched their names."

"Hagrid took me shopping pretty much like you have it in the book. We went to the bank and collected a bit of gold from my vault and then a certain package from another vault."

"The stone," said the writer.

"The stone," confirmed Harry. "Only I had no idea what it was. We then took the Underground to Kings Cross and I met Hermione for the first time."

*~*HP*~*

1 August 1991
Kings Cross Station
London
England

Hagrid walked them to the group standing between platforms nine and ten and then gestured to Harry to stand next to his fellow students. There were only five others. Two of them boys and the other three were girls. One of the boys was standing with his nose in the air in a haughty manner the other was a skinny black boy in nice trousers looking nervously at his mother.

The three girls Harry expected to be giggling like the ones at his primary school, and while the Asian girl and the blond with her hair in two plaits were, the third was trying to make herself not noticed.

They were all instructed how to get on to Platform 9¾. That was where their train would leave to take them to school. They practiced it several times. The first without a trolley, the subsequent attempts, with one.

Everyone else was through the barrier except Harry and the girl who had been trying to hide. He was following along with her just as they had been told when all of a sudden the wheel fell off her trolley and she tripped over it, causing Harry to do the same.

"Oh, sorry. Are you alright?" He looked down and he was lying directly on top of a girl with bushy brown hair, wide brown eyes, and overly large front teeth.

"Yes, I'll be all right, but would you mind getting off of me now?"

"Oh, sorry." Harry rolled off her and the two of them collected their spilt luggage and tried again. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter by the way. What's your name?"

"Are you really?"

"Am I really, what?"

"Harry Potter. I've read all about you in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. It was quite interesting."

"Was it?" asked Harry in disbelief. "Oh, well, if you say so, but to answer your question, yes, I'm Harry Potter. So what does it say about me in your books? And you haven't told me your name."

The girl blushed and got shy again. "Hermione Granger. You don't know what it says?"

Harry was getting frustrated. It was as if they were talking in circles. "No idea. I've not read them."

Hermione blinked. She set her trunk right and the two of them slipped through the wall. "It talks about how you defeated You-Know-Who. You know, about you summoning your mum's wand and all."

"You-Know-Who? Who's that?" asked Harry completely confused.

"The dark wizard that you defeated," said the girl with growing exasperation.

"Oh, you mean Voldemort. That's what Professor Dumbledore told me his name was."

"It's not printed in books, I couldn't find it anywhere. When I asked at the bookshop I was told that he was so evil that even now everyone is afraid to say his name."

"Professor Dumbledore isn't," Harry protested. "He told me all about it when he came to pick me up this morning." Harry frowned for a minute. "Who said I did something with my mum's wand?"

Hermione blinked. She didn't understand. "You mean you didn't?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I don't understand exactly what happened, but I was told that because she died it protected me and so the curse rebounded and got him and left me with this scar." He moved his hair and showed her the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

Hermione's face fell. The book was wrong and not only was it wrong, it was very wrong. "Oh."

Misunderstanding why she was all of a sudden crestfallen, Harry said irritably, "I'm sorry to disappoint you. It is a bit of a sore subject considering my parents were murdered and all."

Horrified, Hermione put her hand to her mouth and said, "No, I just can't believe that someone would write such a lie in a book. I was told that those were the most popular. I didn't mean anything by it. Maybe if we could start over."

Eyeing her warily, he had been warned by his uncle about fan girls and people wanting to get to know him because of doing something famous. Still, she wasn't giggling, and she did seem truly sorry about their misunderstanding. "Alright. I can give it another try."

The girl smiled shyly. Harry immediately understood why she did it that way. She had buckteeth and if his primary school was any indication, she had probably been teased, mercilessly. "I'm Hermione Granger and you are?"

"Harry. Harry Potter." The two children walked over to join the others.

After the orientation, the magical adults present opened up for questions and Hermione's hand shot immediately into the air. She peppered them with question after question and Harry thought most of them were things that he needed to know. He found himself wishing that he'd taken the knapsack that his aunt had packed for him. He knew that there was a notebook and pen in there.

All of the children were soon talking and Harry noticed that once again Hermione made herself as small as possible. It was the complete opposite she had been during the orientation while asking questions.

He didn't think that he could make friends with either of the other two girls, all they did was giggle and the boy Justin Finch-Fletchly told him all about how he was signed up to attend Eton. It was all Harry could do to not roll his eyes. The last boy was nice; he was quiet and very in to football. Aunt Lavender had not allowed him to play, since Dudley wasn't interested in playing, she didn't have time to take him to practice and then watch his games.

"Are you ready, Hermione?" came a soft voice from near Harry.

"Yes, Mum. I'm ready," Hermione replied.

"Who is your friend, poppet?" the same voice asked.

"Oh, well," Hermione looked like she was gathering strength and then took a step closer to Harry. "This is Harry Potter. Harry, these are my parents Edward and Elinor Granger."

Taught to be polite by his uncle he stuck out his hand and attempted to shake theirs. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. It's nice to meet you."

"Are your parents here, dear?" asked Mrs. Granger. She was hoping to arrange a playdate before the children left for school on the first. Hermione rarely showed any interest in another child, maybe now she would make a friend.

"I live with my aunt and uncle. My parents were killed when I was a baby," replied Harry.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's alright. You didn't know and I'm used to it, but um, my aunt and uncle aren't here either." Harry frowned. Now that he thought about it, he was rather odd that neither his aunt nor uncle had attended the orientation.

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall approached the group. After reading, all the reports on the children and knowing some of them personally, the teachers made an educated guess as to what house they would end up in. There was not one person on staff that believed Hermione Granger would sort anywhere other than Ravenclaw. They had watched the interaction and from the file sent by Hermione's primary school, she was painfully shy and had been bullied to the point of abuse for her academic interests and oddities. They were glad to see that she was willing to try to make a friend.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I have a bit left to do before we can leave Harry and I need to head to the Ministry to take care of business. I hope you don't mind waiting. Perhaps you would like a bite from the cart in the station?"

"I'm fine, Professor. I'll just read. How long will we be?"

"At least an hour, my boy, maybe two."

"Excuse me, Professor," said Edward Granger. "Perhaps we can help. Young Harry here seemed to get on well with Hermione and if we can't drop him at home, then possibly a trip for ice cream or something?"

Harry smiled and said, "I live in Surrey. Little Whinging."

"Well maybe not exactly on the way, but it's not that far of a side trip. It isn't like you live in Derby."

Harry started to laugh. When the Grangers all looked at him he said, "My aunt and uncle's last name is Derby."

Hermione started to giggle and Elinor blinked when she noticed that Harry had taken hold of Hermione's hand and was holding it in his own.

The two professors watched also. They looked at each other and nodded. By all accounts, they were good people and were both some form of Muggle healer. It wasn't as if he would be sending Harry off with the Finch-Fletchly boy. His father was a solicitor of some sort.

"If you are sure that it would not be too much of a hardship for you, I would greatly appreciate your assistance in returning young Harry home," stated Dumbledore. "Will you have room for his things or should I send them separately?"

"We'll make it work," replied Elinor.

His eyes twinkling Dumbledore said, "Perhaps I should follow you to your car. I might be able to ease things in a bit better."

It wasn't until years later that Harry and Hermione realized that Dumbledore had put an Expansion Charm on the Grangers' boot.

The four of them stopped along the way to Surrey and had an ice cream. The two children made plans to see each other again before meeting on the train.

While Hermione helped Harry carry his things up to his room, Edward and Elinor had a brief talk with the Derbys. Harry would spend the following weekend with Hermione and the Grangers would pick him up on the way to Kings Cross on the morning of the first. Lavender knew that it would be better for everyone if she wasn't seen and unfortunately, the boy was not aware of what would happen after he left.

*~*HP*~*

19 August 2005
Scotland

The writer frowned and said, "That means that Hagrid never gave your cousin a tail."

Harry chuckled and said, "No. No one ever gave Dudley a tail. I'm not saying that he didn't deserve it, but as far as I know he never had one."

Hermione laughed. "He looks like a pig, even now. I've only seen one other person with table manners like Dudley Derby and it is enough to make anyone loose his or her appetite." Taking Harry's hand in her own Hermione said, "So we left Harry in Surrey and went home. The next day, a Friday night, we drove back to get him."

"I spent every weekend between the orientation and the start of term with the Grangers," said Harry. "It was easier on Aunt Lavender so she didn't have to worry about what Dudley was up to next."

"Mum and Dad had a week off in the middle and Harry stayed with us the whole week."

"When I wasn't with Hermione, poor Hedwig was flying back and forth between our two houses carrying letters and such. Mum drove back into London after that first weekend and bought a bag of owl treats and a perch just for when Hedwig came to visit," said Harry.

Hermione nodded. "It was useful over the years."

"When it came time to leave Privet Drive for Hogwarts, I thought that Aunt Lavender and Uncle Vernon were acting a bit odd, but I didn't think about it. It wasn't until June I learned why."

"What was the reason?" asked the writer.

Hermione shook her head and said, "It would be best if we explained to you as Harry found out."

*~*HP*~*

1 September 1991
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
England

At precisely half past nine, the doorbell rang and Harry quickly opened it.

"Hi, Hermione. Come in. I'm just getting the last of my things together."

Elinor smiled and looked at the Derbys. "I didn't realize that you were moving. Are you staying in the area?"

Lavender looked a bit awkward and then nodded. "Not too far. With Harry, er both boys, leaving, it's time for a change."

"How long have you been here?" asked Edward.

"Since Vernon and I married and that was straight out of university," replied Harry's aunt.

Edward smiled and then said, "We really should be off, and we don't know what traffic is going to be like getting into the city."

Vernon Derby smiled at the boy he had given shelter to for almost eleven years. "You remember what I taught you, boy, and you will do well. Mind your manners and always use a firm handshake. It sets a good impression."

Harry smiled. "I will, Uncle Vernon."

Vernon Derby patted the boy on the top of the head, shook Edward's hand, and then left the room. He hoped that he'd see him again. Just to know that he was well if nothing else.

"Aunt Lavender?"

"I'm fine Harry. I've packed some surprises for you in your trunk and… and a few other things too."

"Alright," said Harry. He waved to his aunt and then started toward the door. Edward had one end of his trunk while Harry had the other. He never saw Lavender slip Elinor a letter.

"I'll see you over Christmas," said Harry.

Lavender cleared her throat and said, "We'll be spending Christmas with Maggie this year. You will be able to stay at school."

Harry blinked. He'd forgot this was Aunt Maggie's year to host. Harry did hate visiting her. He would rather stay at school. "At the end of term then. Goodbye." With a quick wave, Harry Potter left Privet Drive.

The drive into London didn't take that long. The two children chatted about what little they knew about Hogwarts. Most of it coming from Hermione's book Hogwarts, A History.

After procuring two trolleys for the luggage, they loaded up their trunks and Hedwig's cage and slipped through the barrier with more than twenty minutes to spare. Edward helped them place their trunks in an empty compartment and they headed back down to the platform to say goodbye to Elinor.

She situated both children in front of the Hogwarts Express and took numerous photos. Hugging them both firmly she said, "I expect a letter soon telling me that you are both safe and where you were sorted. I hope that it will be together. Just remember that nothing says that even if you are in different houses that you cannot still be friends and Harry, unless you would rather stay at school, you are welcome to stay with us for the Christmas holiday." The whistle blew and she hugged them both one more time then shooed them toward the train.

They had just returned to their compartment when a chubby boy with brown hair and a round face slid open the compartment door and asked, "Is…is it all right if… if I sit in here? There… there doesn't seem to be room anywhere else."

Harry smiled at the nervous boy. He'd noticed that he was sent off at the station by an older woman. Since it was a Sunday, Harry wondered where his parents were. It was possible however that they did have to work.

"Sure no problem. I'm Harry and this is my best friend Hermione." He noticed that Hermione beamed at him when he said that. Dudley pretty much guaranteed that he had no friends at school and as much as his aunt and uncle tried to intervene, it was pointless. He also doubted that Hermione had any either. The one time they had gone to the park together near her house, Harry had left her alone to use the toilet and on his way back, he heard some boys teasing her, calling her a rabid beaver. Harry took her hand and they left after that.

"I'm Neville Longbottom. So you two already know each other?"

"We met at orientation and I've visited Hermione loads of times since and we send letters with my owl."

"I wish Gran would let me get an owl, but all I got was Trevor." He pulled a toad out of his pocket. Within two hops, the toad tried to escape, but Harry quickly caught him and they put him back in the terrarium in Neville's trunk.

It was then that Neville saw Harry's scar. The young boy squeaked and asked with great trepidation, "Are you… Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry sighed. He hoped that this was not going to be the standard reaction. Mr. Granger told him to make sure to get to know people before they found out who he was, that way he would know if they wanted to be his friend or the friend of 'Harry Potter'. Mrs. Granger suggested that if the person stared at his scar or looked first for confirmation, he shouldn't waste his time. It reminded him of the fan girl conversation that Uncle Vernon had with him a few weeks prior. "Yes Neville, but most of what you heard was rubbish. I didn't do anything to get rid of Voldemort," Neville squeaked at the name. Harry looked at Hermione. They would have to work on that one. Neville seemed like a good bloke. "My mum died and that protected me so when Voldemort cursed me, it rebounded and he disappeared to wherever."

"He's dead," stated Neville still shuddering from hearing the name spoken aloud.

Hermione shook her head. "Professor Dumbledore told us, well, Harry and me, when we asked about it just after the orientation, he said that he was just temporarily disabled and someday he would be back but it could be tomorrow or in one hundred years, no one knows."

Harry smiled at Neville and said, "So if you don't mind Neville, I prefer just Harry and not all the rest. We were getting along just fine before so why don't we just go back to that and I'll be just Harry and you can be just Neville and that's just Hermione. Hogwarts students."

Neville nodded. Harry Potter wanted to be his friend and he was a good person too, not what he expected.

Soon the three were talking and hadn't even noticed that the train had long left London and was zooming up the English countryside.

"How rude," said Hermione.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry looking up from his trunk where he was searching for whatever Aunt Lavender had given him. Giving up until he got to school, he sat back down. Harry thought with all the time they'd spent together he knew Hermione pretty well and manners were important to her. He hoped that he'd not done something to offend her.

Neville answered. "This redheaded kid looked into our window and didn't look happy that we weren't who he was looking for."

"Probably looking for a friend," said Harry.

"Have you two ever played Gobstones?" asked Neville.

"We bought some," said Hermione. "My mum got us several sets when we were in London getting owl treats. That and a pack of exploding cards, but we've never played."

The three of them were sitting on the floor playing with the Gobstones when Harry noticed that Hermione was once again looking at the door. "What's wrong?" asked Harry.

"He's back and he's looking in the compartment again."

Harry turned around and as soon as the boy saw him, his face lightened and the compartment door slid open. In stepped a tall lanky red headed boy with pale blue eyes and a smudge of dirt on the end of his long nose. "Do you mind if I sit in here? Everywhere else is full."

Harry shot a look at Hermione. The red headed boy's eyes had yet to leave Harry's forehead. Neville, being quicker on the uptake than his gran gave him credit for, cottoned on to what was happening and realized that this is just what Harry had been talking about earlier.

Not being able to come up with a reason that they could ask the boy to leave, Harry said, "We're playing Gobstones. If you'd like to play, you're welcome to join us."

"Gobstones," said the boy. "That's a kid's game. I prefer Quidditch."

Having read a book on Quidditch that Mrs. Granger had picked up in London, Harry knew just a bit about the game and said, "Well, we can't play Quidditch in a train compartment can we? If you don't want to play, then you can leave or watch."

The boy frowned. Things were not going his way at all. If they'd been on time for the train, then he would be the one that found Harry Potter alone on the train. He would be in here with him and not these other two. His mum told him all about poor Harry Potter the orphan who was being raised by Muggles and how he'd need friends. Someone just like Ron to show him around.

"I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley." He looked at Harry ignoring Neville and Hermione.

Harry nodded. He was hoping that he would be sorted into a different house than this guy. "That's Neville by the window and this is my best friend, Hermione," he said taking Hermione's hand in his and not letting go. All three saw the look that crossed Ron's face at the mention that Hermione was his best friend. "And I'm Harry."

"Right Harry Potter. Do you really have that, you know, scar on your forehead?" He pointed at Harry's forehead.

"You'd know since you've been staring at it for the past five minutes," Hermione mumbled. Neville just snickered and then went back to cleaning up from where the Gobstones had squirt him. It seemed Hermione had a knack for the game.

"Yes," was all Harry said and then raked his fingers through his hair to try to cover his scar the best he could. He figured that he would let his hair grow out between now and the Christmas holidays and see what Mrs. Granger could do to cover it better. Aunt Lavender always liked it short since it was so unruly.

The lunch trolley came and Harry bought several kinds of sweets and then realized what the album that his aunt had placed in his trunk was for. The jumping frogs came with trading cards and the album contained several older cards. He wondered if it was hers or if it had belonged to his mother. Harry was hoping that she sent a note.

"I got Dumbledore," said Harry looking at his card.

"I've got three of him," said Ron biting into a frog. Hermione huffed. Ron had neither offered to pay nor had he asked if he could have a frog, he just helped himself. She handed Harry one of the sandwiches that her mother packed for them and a drink too.

"So how do you two know each other?" asked Ron as he watched Harry root through Hermione's rucksack. Harry pulled out two bags of crisps and the serviettes.

Deciding that the boy didn't need to know that they just met a month ago, Harry said, "I told you, we're best friends. I've stayed over at Hermione's house loads of times before." He handed Hermione a bag of crisps then stuck his straw through his juice box.

"What is that?" asked Neville.

"Oh, this is a juice box. Muggles use it to store drinks in it and then it goes in the bin when you're finished. Mine has apple juice in it and Hermione has blackcurrant," replied Harry.

"No pumpkin?" asked Ron incredulously.

Harry shuddered. Pumpkin pie was one thing, but juice didn't sound too appealing. Um, no. I've never seen pumpkin juice before."

"It's the best," declared Ron. "Better than that Muggle stuff anyway."

Hermione frowned and moved closer to Harry. She didn't particularly like this boy.

Eventually the call for them to change into their uniforms came from the head boy and within minutes, they pulled into Hogsmeade station.

*~*HP*~*

19 August 2005
Scotland

"That's what happened on the train?"

Harry blinked. "We met Ron Weasley and Neville and learned pretty quickly what Ron's true colors were. We also had a run in with Draco Malfoy and his minions, but that pretty much went as you described."

"Oh and Ron did try to turn that ridiculous rat yellow," said Hermione rolling her eyes. "That didn't work, obviously. Idiot."

The writer frowned. She had retrieved her notes on their first year and was reviewing them to what they were telling her actually happened. "So you weren't friends with Ron Weasley?" That concept being incredibly foreign to her. She had been told that they were all inseparable and were now one big happy Weasley family.

"Merlin no," said Hermione. "Ron was… well like we said earlier, he was a traitorous bastard."

"Hermione, language," laughed Harry. She rarely cursed so it was always funny when she did. Oddly enough, it was usually the mention of Ron Weasley that led her to it.

"Sorry. But to answer your question, we met a wonderful friend on the train and learned that we did indeed not want to make friends with the wrong sort."

"What happened once you got off the train?"

*~*HP*~*

1 September 1991
Hogwarts School

A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' year! Firs' years over here!"

They all followed Hagrid down a narrow path that led to a black lake. A mass "Ooooooh!" was heard when the group saw the castle for the first time.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Hermione climbed into a boat and Harry helped Neville in. Unfortunately, for them, Ron decided to follow.

Ron sat on one of the seats and clearly indicated that he expected Harry to sit next to him. However, Neville realized at that moment certain sacrifices would have to be made to be Harry's friend and protecting him from people like Ron was one of them. Neville plopped himself down on the seat next to Ron and smiled at the grateful look that Harry gave him.

"Did you say something, Ron?" asked Hermione as she took tight hold of Harry's hand. The boats were all moving and it made her a bit uncomfortable.

Ron looked over at Neville and shook his head. "No, nothing."

For the rest of the ride Hermione regaled them with information about the lake that she learned while reading Hogwarts, A History.

The little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a large opening in a cliff face. Through a dark tunnel and to a sort of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto a beach of rocks and pebbles.

"Everyone here?" called Hagrid. He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door opened at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes stood there. Harry and Hermione instantly recognized her as Professor McGonagall.

The group was handed off to her and she led everyone into a large entrance hall. There was a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors, the ceiling was so high that it was hard to see and the stone walls were lit with flaming torches.

They didn't stay in the entrance hall, but followed the professor into a small chamber off the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

She left the chamber after eyeing Ron's smudged nose.

"They give us some sort of test," said Ron trying to impress Harry with his knowledge. "One of my brothers said you have to wrestle a troll, I just hope he was joking."

Professor McGonagall returned. She looked appraisingly at all of them one more time then said, "Now, form a line and follow me."

Making sure he had a firm grasp on Hermione's hand, the two of them followed Neville out to the entrance and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry was in awe. Thousands of candles were floating midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. Hermione leaned over and whispered, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

They came to a stop at the front of the room, just before the head table.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years, setting a pointed hat on the top.

Harry looked at Hermione who shrugged. Secretly Harry was thinking that Aunt Lavender would never let something that old and frayed into her house and he wasn't all that sure Mrs. Granger would either.

The entire hall was silent and all of the teachers and older students were staring at the hat, as if waiting for something to happen. Suddenly the hat twitched and a rip near the brim opened like a mouth - and the hat began to sing.

The pair didn't say anything; they just looked at each other and then back at the hat in shock. As they listened to its song, Harry realized that all he had to do was try on the hat and it would place him in the proper house.

"That's not so bad, and definitely not a troll," said Hermione in his ear.

"I wonder if it's ever sent anyone home before. What if I'm not any of those things?" asked Harry.

Hermione smiled at him and said, "You're Harry, my best friend, and you are all of those things."

Professor McGonagall's voice caught their attention. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She looked at them one more time and then said, "Abbot, Hannah!"

It was the blonde girl with two plaits from the orientation. Next was another girl and then a boy. The line of first years was slowly thinning when she called out, "Granger, Hermione."

With one last squeeze of Harry's hand, Hermione all but ran to the stool and jammed the hat on her head.

"I hope whatever house she's in, I'm not," said Ron.

Neville looked at the boy while Harry just shook his head. It was best not to respond to comments like that, especially considering he was thinking the same thing about Ron.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Harry clapped and smiled at her. He didn't notice the stunned faces at the staff table.

Then it was Neville's turn. He swallowed hard and nodded to himself as if trying to muster the courage to walk to the stool. The professor called out his name a second time and only after Harry nudged him forward, did he actually make progress.

"A Hufflepuff if there ever was one," said Ron into Harry's ear.

"Doesn't sound so bad to me," said Harry. "The hat said they were very loyal and not afraid of hard work."

"Naw, it's just a dumping ground for squibs. They just don't want to hurt anyone's feelings so they call them loyal."

It was then that Harry knew Ron was not headed to Hufflepuff. He doubted that loyalty was a trait he had in abundance.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"No bloody way."

Harry watched Neville run over to the table and sit next to Hermione. They were both smiling at him, hoping that he too would be joining them.

The repugnant blond boy with slicked back hair from the train was sorted into Slytherin.

"Potter, Harry!"

Hushed whispers broke out throughout the hall all of them saying his name. He stepped forward. If Hermione and Neville could do it, then he could too. Just as he sat on the stool, the hat was dropped over his eyes.

A voice inside Harry's head began to speak. "So where shall I put you?"

Not Slytherin, Harry began to think. The last place he wanted to be was with the blond boy. I'd like to go to Gryffindor with my friends.

"Yes, I can see that. Still, you could be great and Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness."

No. Not Slytherin, Gryffindor.

"A word of advice before I sort you, I have a unique perspective on everyone in this school, by seeing into their minds, I can gauge their true intentions. Not all Slytherins are evil, merely ambitious and cunning. Just as that is true, not everyone outside of Slytherin is on the side of good."

What about my friends? What about Hermione and Neville?

"They are both steadfast enough to make Helga Hufflepuff proud, but Gryffindor is where they will do the most good. I do believe that you and Miss Granger will make a formidable team and the Longbottom boy will add balance. GRYFFINDOR!"

The hall erupted in cheers and the loudest were coming from the Gryffindor table. Professor McGonagall's lips twitched and she nodded toward the house table. Harry ran all the way to his friends and took a seat between Hermione and Neville.

Hermione gave Harry a hug. "Mum will be pleased, Harry. I think she was afraid that we wouldn't be together. May I use Hedwig to send her a letter, she'll want one."

"Hermione," Harry said patiently, "we promised her that we would. If there is time tonight we can send it off, if not we'll do it tomorrow."

One of the last to be sorted was Ron and much to the dismay of the three friends, he too was sorted to Gryffindor.

*~*HP*~*

19 August 2005
Scotland

"The rest of the feast happened pretty much as you wrote, except Ron was annoyed that neither Neville nor Hermione would move to make room for him, so we all had the great misfortune of sitting across from him."

"He and Dudley Derby had identical table manners," said Hermione. "We learned to wait until Ron was already seated before we sat, that way we wouldn't have to sit across from him."

"I felt a pain in my scar after looking up at the staff table and we all sang the school song. Percy Weasley walked us to Gryffindor tower and that was pretty much it. We didn't have time to write to Mum that night, but Hermione penned a note the next morning and we sent it off with Hedwig," explained Harry.

"I think the next significant event that you have is the troll," said Hermione as she leaned over her husband's shoulder and looked at the book.

"No, what about your first Potions lesson with Snape, getting a spot on the house Quidditch team or the duel Draco Malfoy tricked you into agreeing to, running from Mr. Filch, and finding the three headed dog?"

Harry looked at Hermione and blinked. Most of it was so inconsequential that it didn't matter, but there was a chance to set some of it straight. "Potions went down about the way you wrote, except I was able to answer the first two questions. Hermione and I read through the first few chapters in each of our textbooks before we left for term."

"The incident during flying lessons is different though," said Hermione.

*~*HP*~*

12 September 1991
Hogwarts School
Scotland

"I don't think many of those tips are going to help, Hermione. I mean if I'd actually ever been on a broom before, maybe, but you're just making me more nervous." Hermione had taken to memorizing the whole of Quidditch Through the Ages in hopes of learning to fly without ever having to actually touch a broom.

"Sorry," said the bright red witch.

"I didn't mean it like that," explained Harry. "I just don't want to think about it."

Just then, a barn owl swooped down in front of Neville with a package tied to his leg.

"It's from Gran. I wonder if I left anything at home."

Harry shook his head. "You've not mentioned not having something. Open it up and see what she sent."

He opened the parcel excitedly. Once the box was open, he reached in and pulled out a ball the size of a large marble. It was made of clear glass and looked to be filled with white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he exclaimed. "Gran knows I forget things and this tells you if there's something you've forgot to do." Seeing the look of confusion on his friends' faces he explained, "I just need to hold it tight like this and if it turns red then… Oh bother." The white smoke in the ball suddenly turned scarlet.

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and said, "Not to worry Neville. I've not noticed anything. Maybe you've just forgot to write her and this is her subtle way to remind you."

Ron, who was telling the table ad nauseam that he had been flying since he was a toddler, looked over at Neville's Remembrall and snatched it out of his hand.

"Ron, give Neville back his Remembrall," demanded Harry.

"I was just looking at it," said the boy shaking his head. He really needed to do something for Harry Potter to see what a looser the squib was then he could move on to the incessant know-it-all. He began to toss it up in the air and catching it.

Harry reached out and grabbed it midair then handed it back to Neville.

"What's going on?" asked Professor McGonagall. Sensing trouble, she came over to nip it in the bud.

"Just a misunderstanding, Professor," said Ron. "Neville must not have heard me ask to look at his gift."

With an eyebrow raised, the Transfiguration professor evaluated Ron. "I suggest in the future you concern yourself less with another's post and more on your homework." She turned and walked back to the head table.

At half past three that afternoon, the Gryffindors met Madam Hooch on the grounds for their first flying lesson. The Slytherins were also scheduled for the same time. Twenty brooms were lying on the ground evenly spaced a meter apart.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" barked the teacher. She had short grey hair and yellow eyes. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry found a broom and stood with it to his right. Hermione was on one side and Neville was on the other. He looked down at the broom. It was old and some of the twigs were sticking out in odd directions.

"Stick your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

Harry's broom jumped into his hand. He looked left and Neville's was still on the ground. To his right he saw Hermione eyeing her broom nervously. He looked at her and nodded. Harry watched as she took a deep breath and said, "Up." Slowly, but surely, Hermione's broom rose into her hand.

"I did it," she whispered.

The pair smiled at each other and looked around at their classmates. Only about half so far had managed to get a reaction from their brooms and Harry wondered if they could smell fear. There was a snicker from his right. He looked up and followed Hermione's gaze. There was Ron "I've been flying since I learned to walk" Weasley shouting at his broom that was still firmly on the ground.

"I said UP!" yelled Ron. Suddenly his broom rose and instead of heading for the boy's outstretched hand, it whacked him in the nose, instantly breaking it.

Madam Hooch sighed and said, "You, you're a Weasley. I would have thought with the way your brothers fly you would know that brooms don't like to be yelled at. Off to the hospital wing with you to get your nose looked at." Ron frowned and with a vain attempt to stem the flow of blood with his robes headed off in a huff.

Again, Madam Hooch was providing them with entertainment. Draco Malfoy, the stuck up Slytherin that irritated them on the train, was being told that it didn't matter how his father had taught him to grip his broom, he was doing it wrong.

Finally, everyone had a broom in his or her hand. "Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off from the ground, hard." She looked around then continued, "Keep your brooms steady, rise about a meter, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly."

The whistle blew and Harry, Hermione, and Neville were all about a meter off the ground and had started back down when Neville's broom suddenly developed a mind of its own, shot straight up, and inverted itself. Before Madam Hooch was able to react, Neville lost his grip and fell three meters to the ground.

"Damn, that's a problem with the older Shooting Stars." She wandered over to where Neville was sitting on the ground looking around stunned. "Longbottom, what's the damage?"

Neville stood and shook his head. "Just my pride, ma'am."

"That's the ticket. Now be a good boy and get back in the saddle. Use the broom that Weasley left. You shouldn't have any more trouble."

The teacher mounted her broom and took off after the wayward one. It wouldn't do to have Muggles finding a flying broomstick.

"Did you see the great lump?" said Malfoy as he burst out laughing. The Gryffindors did not find it funny. Immediately after being tossed from a defective broom, Neville was a meter feet off the ground giving it another go.

"Shut it, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Look!" said Malfoy snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing his gran sent him."

Neville checked his pocket and then groaned inwardly. He'd never be able to beat Malfoy in a fight. "Give it back, Malfoy," said Neville.

"Like you can make me," Draco scoffed.

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had already leapt onto his broom and was a good ten meters in the air.

Taking a look skyward to confirm that the teacher was indeed not able to hear them, Malfoy said, "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

Harry leaned forward on his broom and took off after the Slytherin. "Give it here," he demanded.

"I don't think so. Catch." He threw the glass ball high into the air.

Harry saw the ball begin its descent. He pointed his broom handle in the direction of the ball and soon was gathering speed. The wind was rushing past his ears. He could just make out Hermione's voice calling out to him to be careful, but it didn't matter. All his focus was on catching that ball before it hit the ground. Just before it was sure to break, he stretched out his hand and caught it, a mere foot from the ground. He pulled hard on the broom handle and then rolled onto the ground with the Remembrall ensconced safely in his hand.

After a quick hug from his best friend and several pats on the back from the rest of his house, he looked up into the faces of two professors.

"HARRY POTTER!" came the yell from his head of house. She'd come down to see how her new Gryffindors fared with brooms and was witness to the entire incident.

"Have you ever been on a broom before, Potter?" asked the flying instructor.

He looked at Madam Hooch and shook his head. "No ma'am."

The two women shared a look that Harry didn't recognize and then McGonagall held out her hand. He immediately placed the ball into it. She rolled it around and looked at it carefully before handing it back to Neville. "It would be a shame for Potter's work to be a waste, Longbottom. Please keep better track of your possessions."

"Yes ma'am," the round faced boy squeaked out.

"Mr. Malfoy, that will be a detention tonight with Mr. Filch," stated Professor McGonagall.

"When my father-" Malfoy began.

"It will not do you any good to protest and your father will not be able to help you. I witnessed the whole incident." Her attention turned to the other adult present. "Rolanda, if I may borrow Potter please?"

"Of course." She looked at the class and said, "The rest of you, back on your brooms. Three meters up and form a single file line."

Harry took one last look at his friends and then silently followed his head of house. He had no idea what was going on. She didn't appear to be upset with him, at least not in the way that Uncle Vernon used to get, so he knew he wasn't in for an ear boxing, a detention at worst, but even then, he wasn't sure.

They stopped in front of the Charms classroom. She stuck her head in and politely asked Professor Flitwick if she could borrow Wood.

Wood turned out to be a burly Gryffindor student, at least fifth year, maybe sixth from what Harry estimated.

After leading the boys to an empty classroom, she broke out into a smile and said, "Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker."

The older boy looked absolutely delighted. He eyed Harry carefully and nodded. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," she said. "The boy is a natural. I've never seen anything like it. It was his first time on a broomstick too." She looked back at Wood and continued. "He caught a Remembrall a foot from the ground after a twenty meter dive and didn't even get a scratch. Charlie Weasley couldn't have even done that."

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" the boy asked.

"No, I've read about it, but no," Harry stammered.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained. With one last look at Harry she said, "I'll talk to the headmaster about seeing if we can't get you a broom. A Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say. …couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks after last year," the last was barely heard by the two boys.

*~*HP*~*

19 August 2005
Scotland

"And that was actually how I got on the Quidditch team. If it hadn't been for Ron, Neville, and of course, Draco Malfoy, it might not have happened," said Harry smiling at the memory.

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. "After all this time you're still pretty smug about it."

Harry just shrugged and grinned. They turned their attention back to the writer. They knew she would have questions, she always seemed to.

A/N: I've been away from home on an unexpected business trip for the past couple of weeks and in my rush to leave the house, I grabbed my laptop and completely forgot to swing by my home computer and save copies of After Sunrise and Breach of Trust to take with me. Sitting in my hotel room bored, I started typing. This story will not be updated an any regular schedule and will take a back burner to the other two once I return home.