Chapter Text
The Hogwarts Express sat gleaming red and black on Platform 9¾, steam billowing from its chimney as dozens of families said their goodbyes. Harry pushed his trolley toward the train, still feeling the warmth of Uncle Vernon's hand on his shoulder and the echo of that word—son—in his ears.
He found an empty compartment about halfway down the train and heaved his trunk onto the overhead rack, settling Hedwig's cage on the seat beside him. Through the window, he could see other families having their final conversations—some tearful, others business-like, a few that looked downright relieved.
Uncle Vernon had taught him to observe, so he did. A red-headed woman was fussing over a boy about his age while several older children looked on with fond exasperation. A stern-looking grandmother was giving what appeared to be last-minute instructions to a nervous girl with pigtails. And near the barrier, a pale boy with round face was standing with an intimidating woman whose lips were pressed into a thin line. She wore what appeared to be a stuffed vulture on her hat, its beady eyes glaring at anyone who came too close.
The boy looked terrified.
Harry was still watching when the compartment door slid open. The same pale, round-faced boy peered in nervously, carrying a small traveling cage.
"Er—sorry—everywhere else is full. Mind if I sit here?"
"Course not," Harry said, gesturing to the seat across from him. "I'm Harry."
"Neville," the boy replied, struggling with a large trunk. "Neville Longbottom."
Harry got up to help him hoist the trunk onto the rack. As they wrestled with it, he noticed Neville's hands were shaking slightly. Once they were settled, Neville placed his traveling cage on the seat beside him.
"First time on the train too?" Harry asked as the train gave a lurch and began to move.
Neville nodded, pressing his face to the window to wave at the intimidating woman—his grandmother, Harry assumed. She didn't wave back, just gave a sharp nod before turning away.
"Are you nervous?" Harry asked.
Neville's laugh came out as more of a squeak. "Terrified, more like. I probably shouldn't even be going. I might not even be magical enough for Hogwarts."
Harry frowned. That didn't make sense. "But you got your letter, right? They don't send those to people who aren't magical."
"Well, yes, but..." Neville's voice trailed off. "I didn't show magic until I was eight. Gran thought I might be a Squib for years. And even when I finally did magic, it was just because my Great Uncle Algie dropped me out a window and I bounced."
Harry's eyes widened. "He dropped you out a window?" Something about the way Neville said it - like it was normal, like he should be grateful - reminded Harry of how he used to make excuses for Dudley's friends when they hurt him.
"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Neville said quickly, though his face suggested otherwise. "Just the first floor. And I bounced, so Gran was thrilled. Proved I wasn't a Squib after all."
Harry tried not to let his face show what he was thinking. Neville's family wanted him to be something he didn't think he could be, and they weren't being very nice about it. It reminded Harry of the feeling he used to get when Dudley would break something and blame it on him, that sick certainty that no matter what he said, no one would believe him.
"What about you?" Neville asked, seeming eager to change the subject. "Are you nervous?"
"A bit," Harry admitted. "It's all new, isn't it? But my family—they helped me prepare as much as they could. Told me to keep my eyes open, make friends with good people, and remember that being underestimated can be an advantage."
Neville blinked. "An advantage?"
"Well, think about it," Harry said, remembering Uncle Vernon's lessons about turning weaknesses into strengths. "If people expect less of you, they're not watching you as carefully. They're not seeing what you can really do."
"I... I never thought of it that way," Neville said slowly.
The train was picking up speed now, countryside rushing past the windows. Harry could see Neville relaxing slightly, his shoulders losing some of their tension.
"What House do you think you'll be in?" Neville asked.
Harry shrugged. "Don't know much about them yet, honestly. What about you?"
Neville's face fell again. "Gryffindor, I suppose. Everyone in my family's been in Gryffindor for centuries. My parents were Head Boy and Girl there." His voice got quieter. "They were war heroes. Gran expects me to live up to that somehow, but I can barely keep track of my toad."
There was something in Neville's voice - a kind of tired sadness - that Harry recognized. It was how he used to sound when people asked him about the Dursleys, back when he thought he had to pretend everything was fine. And the way Neville talked about his parents in the past tense...
"Were?" Harry asked gently.
Neville's face crumpled slightly. "They're... they're still alive, but they don't know who I am anymore. They were Aurors. They fought against You-Know-Who in the war. Death Eaters tortured them until their minds broke. They're in St. Mungo's hospital now."
"What are Aurors?" Harry asked.
"Oh—dark wizard catchers, sort of," Neville explained quickly.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, meaning it completely. "That's terrible."
"The thing is," Neville continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "sometimes I wonder if there might have been a different way. If someone had been smarter about it, more careful, maybe they could have fought without ending up like that."
"I don't know," Harry said slowly. "But... what if your family doesn't need another person doing the same thing? I mean..." He struggled to put it into words. "What if they need someone different?"
Neville frowned. "Different how?"
"Well," Harry said, feeling his way through the thought, "you said they charged in to fight. And that didn't... I mean, it didn't work out, did it?"
"No," Neville whispered.
"So maybe being brave isn't just about charging in. Maybe there are other ways?"
The question hung in the air between them. Harry could see Neville turning it over in his mind, his round face scrunched up in thought.
Harry felt something twist in his chest. Here was someone who'd lost his parents too, just in a different way. "Neville—"
"Maybe what your family needs now," Harry said quietly, "is someone smart enough to survive and win, not just someone brave enough to try."
Neville looked up at him with wide eyes. "You really think that?"
"I think," Harry said, "that there are lots of different ways to be brave. And lots of different ways to honor your family."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the countryside rush past. Harry was just starting to doze when Neville suddenly sat up straight.
"Oh no! Trevor!" Neville started looking around frantically. He opened his traveling cage - it was empty. "He was right here a minute ago - where did he go?"
Sure enough, the toad was nowhere to be seen in the compartment.
"He must have hopped out when we weren't looking," Harry said, getting up. "Come on, let's find him before he gets too far."
They made their way down the corridor, checking compartments and asking other students. Near the middle of the train, they could hear a girl's voice from an open compartment door.
"...so naturally I'm hoping for Gryffindor. I mean, that's where Albus Dumbledore went, so it's obviously the best house. Don't you think?"
Harry and Neville exchanged a glance as they passed by. Through the doorway, they could see a girl with bushy brown hair talking earnestly to a bored-looking older student.
They continued their search until they reached one of the rear compartments where three boys were sitting. The one in the middle was pale and pointed, with slicked-back blonde hair. The other two were large and looked like they might struggle to spell their own names.
"Have you seen a toad?" Neville asked hopefully.
The blonde boy looked up with a smirk. "A toad? Who brings a toad to Hogwarts?" His eyes landed on Neville, who flushed red. "Let me guess—yours?"
"Yes," Neville mumbled.
"Malfoy," the boy said with obvious pride. "Draco Malfoy." He clearly expected recognition, and when he didn't get it from Harry, his smirk faltered slightly. "And you are?"
"Harry Potter," Harry replied calmly, noting how all three boys straightened up at the name.
"Really?" Malfoy's manner shifted immediately, becoming more formal. "I'd heard you were starting at Hogwarts. These are Crabbe and Goyle," he gestured to his companions. "You'll want to be careful about the company you keep at Hogwarts, Potter. Some families are... better than others."
His gaze flicked dismissively toward Neville.
Harry felt Uncle Vernon's lessons in his head. He could see what was happening here—Malfoy was trying to show he was important by deciding who was worth talking to and who wasn't. But Harry also knew that if they ended up in the same House, he'd be living with these boys for seven whole years.
"Thanks," Harry said evenly, "Thanks, but I think I'd rather figure people out myself."
It wasn't a rejection, but it wasn't acceptance either. Malfoy seemed to recognize this, nodding slowly.
"Of course," Malfoy said. "Very wise. The offer of friendship stands, naturally."
"Naturally," Harry agreed.
"Nope," Crabbe said suddenly, as if just remembering why they were there. "No toad."
"Thanks anyway," Neville said quietly.
As they continued down the corridor, Neville whispered, "He seemed awful!"
"Seemed like he was trying to act important," Harry replied thoughtfully. "Doesn't mean he's really awful, though. Maybe just... trying too hard, I guess."
Neville glanced at him curiously. "You see a lot, don't you?"
Harry shrugged. "Uncle Vernon always said people tell you who they are if you pay attention."
They found Trevor three compartments later, sitting calmly under a seat as if he'd never been lost. Neville scooped him up with relief.
"Thank you," he said as they walked back toward their compartment. "I don't know what I would have done..."
"That's what friends are for," Harry said simply.
Neville stopped walking for a moment, staring at Harry with wide eyes. "Friends? Really?"
"Yeah," Harry said, feeling a bit embarrassed but meaning it completely. "I mean, if you want to be."
"I'd like that very much," Neville said quietly, and his whole face seemed to brighten. "I've never really had a friend before."
"Me neither," Harry admitted. They stood there grinning at each other for a moment before continuing back to their compartment.
Neville's face was still bright with that shy smile, and Harry felt something warm in his chest. Uncle Vernon had told him to make friends with good people, and he thought Neville counted. More than that - Harry had never had a real friend before, and it felt really good.
As they settled back into their seats, the countryside outside was growing wilder, the sun beginning to set.
"Harry," Neville said quietly, "what you said before. About different ways to be brave, and honoring family differently. Do you really think I might... that maybe..."
"I don't know how they decide," Harry admitted. "But I think maybe it's worth being open to possibilities. What if they see something about you that even you don't know yet?"
Neville nodded slowly, clutching Trevor a bit tighter. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough."
"We will," Harry agreed, watching the landscape rush by. "Together."
As the train carried them toward their new life, Harry felt the weight of Uncle Vernon's final words: See you at Christmas, Harry. For the first time in his life, he was going somewhere knowing that home would be waiting when he returned. And sitting across from him was a boy who seemed to understand what it felt like when your family expected things from you—and who might be ready to find his own way forward.
The Hogwarts Express rolled on through the gathering dusk, carrying them toward whatever came next.