"Definitely, Neville!" Harry answered excitedly when Neville asked if he would like to spend the holidays with him at the Longbottom Mansion. "Thanks so much! This is gonna be awesome!"

Neville blushed. "I'm glad you've said yes. When I asked Gran for permission to ask, she wasn't sure you'd want to."

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend!" Harry exclaimed, still ecstatic about being invited and a bit louder than he normally was. They were alone at the edge of the courtyard outside, so it was okay.

Neville beamed, a small feeling of pride rising in his chest. He was someone's best friend!

"So, where do you live?" Harry asked, a bit calmer now.

"In the outskirts of Wiltshire, England, with my grandmother."

"And you call her, Gran, right?"

Neville nodded.

Harry's eyes suddenly widened, looking down at Coral. "Um, Neville, she knows about Coral, right?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, she reads the Daily Prophet, even though she doesn't care for some of their reporters. I told her Coral and Hedwig would likely be coming with you if you said yes."

"And she's alright with Coral?"

"She just said to let you know Coral is your responsibility."

Harry nodded. "Okay."

Neville smiled, before growing serious and troubled.

Harry frowned. "Neville, what is it?"

"Well, during the holidays, at some point, we'll go . . . to visit my parents, and I, well, Gran told me you should know. . . ." Neville sighed, finding it difficult to say anything more.

Harry blinked, a bit confused. "Okay, that's fine, but I don't understand. I thought . . . well, when I learned you grew up with your grandmother, I thought you were . . . well, like me."

Neville smiled sadly. "I am. My parents live at St. Mungo's."

Harry frowned, not liking where this was going.

"Ten years ago, my parents were tortured by Death Eaters with the Cruciatus Curse. They're not . . . well, they're not themselves anymore," Neville continued softly. "And never will be."

Harry swallowed. "I'm sorry, Neville."

Neville shrugged halfheartedly. "I didn't really know them before."

"Must still be hard."

"It is," Neville admitted.

"Thank you for telling me, Neville."

They didn't speak for a long time after that.

O o O o O

Harry made his way up to the Headmaster's office. The holidays started the following day, and he was eager to leave with Neville and had already completely packed, including the medical books Madam Pomfrey had allowed him to borrow.

He didn't know why Professor Dumbledore had summoned him, but Neville said it was probably because he was going home with him for the holidays. According to Neville, his grandmother had felt it necessary to clear his visit with the Headmaster even before they formally invited him. Following the directions Professor Sprout had given him, he found himself standing in front of a stone gargoyle.

"Um, lemon drops?" Harry asked, feeling a little foolish talking to the gargoyle. However, to his surprise, it slid aside and a staircase rotated into view.

Going up, he knocked on the door.

"Come in, Harry."

Harry obeyed, recognizing Dumbledore's voice.

Entering the office, he was quickly taken with the place. There were so many gizmos and sparkling things to look at, but it didn't feel like an old museum like one would think. No, it felt very welcoming.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry looked to the front of the office, finding a large wooden desk in front of the colorfully robed Albus Dumbledore. There was a sleeping red bird on a perch beside the desk.

 "Hello, sir," he said, tentatively moving forward.

"Lemon drop, Harry?" he offered, pointing to the bowl at the edge of his desk.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, sir," he said, coming to a stop at the desk.

"Feel free to sit, Harry. If you haven't already gathered, you're not in trouble."

Harry gave a relieved smile. He had been pretty sure he wasn't in trouble, but it was still nice to be told for certain.

"Well, I've been told you'll be spending the holidays with Augusta and Neville Longbottom."

"Yes, sir."

"I trust you are fully packed?"

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling before he grew a little more serious. Standing up, he moved to one of the shelves behind his desk. Lifting his hand to one of the finely crafted boxes, Harry noticed that the Headmaster's hand was carefully wrapped with a white cloth.

:I can taste faint traces of dried blood in the air: Coral hissed quietly. :I believe the Headmaster has somehow injured himself:

Harry nodded mutely, wondering what had happened and why the Headmaster hadn't already healed himself. Surely the headmaster could cast a simple healing charm?

Dumbledore turned back around, holding a small, simple medallion that could be attached to a necklace or bracelet. There was a phoenix at the center of the white metal and etchings of a strange language around the rim. 

"I would like you to wear this from now on, Harry. It is an emergency portkey. It will activate if your life force drops suddenly for whatever reason or if you say Fawkes' base. It will bring you here and alert Madam Pomfrey and I to your arrival."

Harry blinked.

"This is just a precaution, Harry. I understand that Professor Snape spoke to you about the need for such things?"

Harry nodded slowly, taking the medallion and seeing a little hook at the top that could easily be secured to the necklace Snape had given him. Swiftly, he latched it to the silver chain around his neck before burying it back under his robes.

Dumbledore smiled, placing his hands on the desk. Once again, Harry's eyes were drawn to the white bandage on the old wizard's hand. The headmaster noticed where his gaze was and smiled softly.

"The other reason I called you here was for me to personally see how far you have come in parselmagic." He moved his injured hand and began unfastening the bandage.

"What happened, sir?"

"I was a little careless while traveling through the forest a few days ago. Normally, I would have cured the cut straight away, but then I became curious. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to treat this. I have been told by Madam Pomfrey that you have treated a number of your peers, and, as they are my students, I would like to experience your good work firsthand."

Harry got up from his seat and moved closer to the desk to get a better look. Dumbledore turned his chair and motioned for Harry to come around the desk.

Looking at the Headmaster's hand, which was now completely uncovered, Harry found a long gash along the bottom portion of the old palm. It was red and swollen around the raw edges and Harry instantly knew it was infected. Harry was also able to conclude that whatever had caused the cut had been blunt and jagged.

"Well, sir, it looks infected, but it shouldn't be any problem. Do you want it to be numb for when I heal it?" Harry asked, falling into the ‘professional mode' Madam Pomfrey had mentioned him taking whenever he treated someone.

"You can do that?" Dumbledore asked, a little surprised.

Harry nodded. "It's not that hard. My magic just temporarily covers the nerves, blocking the pain signals."

"I see. Well, don't worry about doing that. I'll be fine without it," he said lightly.

Harry nodded, not that surprised the Headmaster turned down the offer. Most of the guys he healed turned the numbing option away. When he had healed Fred Weasley the previous week, George, his twin, had said accepting such a thing would be girly.

Harry glanced up at Dumbledore's face before taking the injured hand in his right and moving his left with Coral around his wrist over it.

"It'll probably twinge a bit when my magic takes care of the infection, but it shouldn't hurt much more than that," he stated simply.

Dumbledore nodded, watching intently.

Harry wondered if this was more of a test than a curious request. No matter, he supposed it was the Headmaster's right to make sure he was making sufficient progress in parselmagic. Who knew how much the Board was really concerned with it all, and he didn't want anyone to think he wasn't working as hard as he could in magic.

:Wound, cleanse; cut, heal: he hissed.

He felt the muscles in Dumbledore's hand stiffen slightly when he stretched out his magic and took hold of the Headmaster's, quickly overwhelming the infection and healing the wound. He watched the flesh mend back together, leaving no scar or evidence of the gash ever having been there.

Dumbledore closed and reopened his hand, testing the healing job. He smiled.

"Very impressive, Harry. Well done."

"It was no trouble, sir."

Dumbledore looked to Coral. "And thank you, Madam Coral."

Coral straightened in obvious pride, basking in the attention. Harry smirked, amused.

"She says, ‘you're welcome,'" Harry translated.

Dumbledore gave her a brief, appreciative nod before looking back to Harry. "Well, my boy, enjoy the winter break, and Happy Holidays."

O o O o O

The train ride to the station passed by quickly, and before Harry knew it, they were getting off the train and hurrying toward a ghastly looking old woman standing near the area where the students got off to rejoin their families for the holidays.

"That's my Gran, with the vulture hat. Come on, she doesn't like waiting," Neville said breathlessly, pulling his bag behind him while trying to keep Trevor in his breast pocket.

Harry managed to keep up beside him, dragging his suitcase behind him with Hedwig's cage balancing on top.

"Good evening, Gran," Neville said, standing at attention just three feet in front of her.

"Neville," she said, lifting her nose slightly.

Neville quickly cleared his throat, putting his things down as he turned toward Harry. "Gran, let me introduce you to Harry Potter, my friend and fellow Hufflepuff. Harry, this is my grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, matriarch of my family."

Harry held out his right hand, keeping Coral behind his back and out of sight. She took his hand as she sized him up. Harry kept himself tall and straight. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Longbottom. Thank you for having me this holiday."

She nodded stiffly, but it seemed that she approved of what she found.

"We will be dropping your things off at the mansion first, and then we will be going to Diagon Alley," she said, holding out a handkerchief. "Take hold, both of you, and make sure you have a good hold on your belongings. We will not be returning here if you leave anything behind."

Harry and Neville quickly did as they were told, though Harry gave Neville a questioning look.

Just as he took hold of the cloth, Harry managed to make out Neville mouthing, ‘portkey' in answer to his silent question. Suddenly, with all of his belongings with him, he felt himself yanked aside, before landing precariously on gravel.

"First time, I see," Mrs. Longbottom said as Neville helped Harry up.

"Yes, ma'am," he managed, rubbing the side of his arm that had rammed against the side of his suitcase. Hedwig was disheveled and unpleased with being in the cage that was now on its side. Harry quickly corrected this before standing up and looking around them.

They were on a gravel road that led to a massive mansion in the middle of a prairie. It was a gorgeous place, and Harry could see side buildings branching off of the grand, well-groomed property.

"You did much better than Neville had his first time, Mr. Potter," Mrs. Longbottom stated, before looking to their things. "Just leave everything. The house elves will take care of it. Now, both of you, take my arm. We are going to apparate to the alley."

Still somewhat dazed from the portkey, Harry managed to do as he was told with Neville, though he had no idea what ‘apparate' meant.

"Hold on," Neville whispered, just as everything swirled like a horrible kaleidoscope of whirling chaos that simply made him want to vomit as he was smashed on all sides.

They landed, though Harry didn't know when they had launched.

"Alright there, Harry?" Neville asked, patting his back.

Harry swallowed as he found himself hunched over, fighting back the bile that wanted to come forth. Slowly, he nodded. "Y-yeah, though I think I nearly lost that chocolate frog."

"Never would have thought a Hufflepuff would have a stomach of steel, Mr. Potter," Mrs. Longbottom said, her tone neither light nor heavy as she looked down at him.

"Yeah, well, most wouldn't think a Hufflepuff could be a parselmouth either, but here I am," he said, still hunched over and trying to calm his stomach.

:Careful, Harry. Mind your tone. I don't think she appreciated such a retort: Coral said from within his sleeve.

:It wasn't a retort, it was a fact: Harry hissed under his breath.

It came out as a slight wheeze, so Mrs. Longbottom thought nothing of it. Neville, however, recognized the sound and knew he had spoken to Coral in his sleeve.

Finally, Harry straightened, no longer afraid of spewing things everywhere. He quickly gathered that they were at the edge of Diagon Alley, out of the paths of shoppers and near the alley's entrance where the Leaky Cauldron was.

"Well, now that you have sufficiently recovered, we have something to pick up," Mrs. Longbottom said, leading the way down the alley and to Mr. Ollivander's.

Neville's eyes widened in happiness and Harry could feel his friend's magic ebbing with joy.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I admit, I was not expecting to see you again so soon," Mr. Ollivander said, stepping seemingly from nowhere just as they entered.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," Harry said as the old creepy man turned his attention to the Longbottoms.

"Madam Longbottom, so nice to see you again. Pine, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches. I trust your wand has been behaving itself?"

"Yes, Mr. Ollivander, but could we get on to business? My grandson needs a new wand. His father's is not a good match for him, unfortunately," she said, her voice growing cold as if it was Neville's fault that the wand didn't work well with him.

Neville looked down, ashamed. Harry's jaw clenched.

:Easy, Harry: Coral soothed.

"Yes, well, the wand chooses the wizard, you know. Not much you can do about that," Ollivander said, slightly uneasily.

"Yes, quite," Mrs. Longbottom stated with a barely hidden huff.

Ollivander then shuffled forward, measuring Neville just as he had Harry months ago.

"I had to try a lot of different wands, Neville. It took me a long time, but Professor Snape said it just takes a bit longer for some wizards."

Neville nodded grimly as Ollivander began having him try wand after wand, all the while Mrs. Longbottom stood impatiently by the door.

Harry went over to the wand holster rack and picked up a black leather one similar to his.

"Hey, Neville, are you going to keep your dad's wand?" Harry asked suddenly.

Neville paused, glancing at his grandmother. "Er. . . ."

"It will be going back into storage. Perhaps a future Longbottom will actually make use out of my son's wand," she said curtly.

Neville looked down and placed his hand solemnly on his pocket. Harry knew this was where he kept his father's wand.

"Hmm, well, why not let Neville keep it as a secondary for now?" Harry asked, growing bold. "At least then it will be getting used occasionally and not gathering dust."

"Perhaps such an arrangement would not be unwise," she stated.

Harry took a second wand holster from the rack.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing?" Mrs. Longbottom asked, noticing the two items in his hand.

"Professor Snape says wand holsters are important to have and that every sensible witch and wizard uses them," Harry said, moving to the counter and pulling out a galleon to pay for them. They were 9 sickles a piece and one galleon for two.

Ollivander nodded appreciatively at Harry, seeing him put the payment on the front counter, as he left for the back to gather more wands for Neville to try.

"Here, Neville, you put this one on the inner forearm of your wand-arm, like this," he said, pulling up his own sleeve to show him his holster that held his main wand. "And this one," he began, kneeling down and swiftly lifting the pant of Neville's left leg to secure the second holster, ignoring the fact Mrs. Longbottom was watching him. "You put on your calf. Wizards underestimate opponents they believe they have disarmed."

"Harry, you didn't have to get me these," Neville began, embarrassed as Harry stood up after securing the holster on his leg. "I mean, I'm glad you did, but-"

Harry waved him off. "Consider them early Christmas presents, Neville. You're my friend, it's no problem."

Mrs. Longbottom blinked as Neville nodded numbly.

"Alright!" Ollivander stated, coming out with a few more boxes of wands. "Let's try these."

Neville tried a few more, each failing to be a good match at all, until finally . . . he came to a dark wand.

Golden sparks burst forth from the tip, the strongest reaction Neville had gotten from any wand ever, and they all instantly knew he had found the wand for him.

"Wow," Neville breathed.

"Holly, eleven inches, unicorn tail hair," Ollivander announced, looking fondly at the wand before glancing at Harry. "Quite fitting."

"My wand is Holly, eleven inches too, Neville," Harry said.

"There's a bit more than that simple similarity, Mr. Potter," Ollivander put in. "You see, this wand and your wand have been made from the very same tree and cut to the same length. I daresay the two of you will be quite close for the rest of your lives."

"So, our wands are brothers?" Harry asked, a bit uneasily, considering his wand was already a brother of Voldemort's.

"Oh, I would go further and say twins. Unlike other brother wands that have cores that have come from the same animal, the holly gathered and used for your wands were not only from the same tree, but from the same branch. That is quite rare, for usually only a single wand can be made from a branch, not two. It will be interesting to see where you both are in twenty years."

Harry and Neville looked at each other, not knowing what to think. With that, Mrs. Longbottom paid for Neville's wand, not saying much before she apparated them all back to the mansion.

"Show him around the mansion, Neville, and then make sure there is nothing he needs for his room. Call one of the elves if there is something," Mrs. Longbottom said, already walking out of the room.

"Yes, Gran," Neville said obediently before looking to Harry. "This way."

Harry happily followed.

The mansion had a rather stiff feeling, and Harry wondered if all mansions had to feel so cold. It wasn't cold temperature wise, but emotionally cold. The whole place just had this creepy feel to it, and the fact that there were moving portraits had nothing to do with it. It was the atmosphere. Everything was perfect and clean, to the point Harry had to wonder if anyone actually lived there at all. It was a bit unnerving.

Neville showed him the living room and dining room, followed by the kitchen and library, and then finally the bedrooms and bathrooms. Neville only showed him the first two floors, telling Harry that the top floor was just more bedrooms and studies.

"And this, is my room," Neville said, pride entering his voice for the first time Harry had ever known him.

It was a small, simple room, but neat and comfortable. There were dressers against the wall with a closet in the corner and a window a few feet to the right. There were two unmoving portraits by the door, slightly hidden by one of the tall dressers, so one had to step directly in line with it to see them. Neville's things from school were on the bed.

"It's brilliant," Harry said, taking note of the plant books stacked on the short dresser and a few items scattered about on top of them.

Neville smiled, happy his room got his friend's approval.

"You'll be sleeping next door, I'll show you now. The bathroom is across the hall," he continued, beginning to exit the room.

Harry began to follow Neville, but paused at the unmoving portraits, quickly seeing their resemblance to Neville.

"Oh," Neville said, stepping back. "Those are my parents. They had gotten their portraits made a few weeks before it happened."

Harry nodded slowly, suddenly wondering what his parents looked like. He had never even seen a picture.

"I don't have a picture of my parents," Harry admitted quietly. "The Dursley's didn't have any, or at least they didn't show them to me. Hrph, they probably burned any they did have."

Neville straightened, and Harry wondered if Neville was becoming angry for him. After a moment, Neville spoke. "Well, I don't think I have any of your dad, but I think I have some of your mum. Uh, our mums were friends, or at least that's what Gran had told me once."

Harry's eyes widened. "You have some pictures? I'd love to see them."

"I'll ask Gran where my mum's old school pictures are; there must be a few of your mum in there," Neville promised.

Harry couldn't thank Neville enough when he was able to get the pictures from the attic later that day. Sure enough, their mothers had been friends, and, if the amount of pictures with them together were anything to go by, they were best friends.

"Uh, Neville, I'm just curious, do you have your mum's wand?" Harry asked as they met up in Harry's room after unpacking their things.

Neville shook his head sadly. "No, one of the Death Eaters snapped it that day."

"Oh. My father's wand had gotten destroyed too. Professor Snape told me it couldn't be recovered from Godric's Hollow."

"Do you have your mother's wand?" Neville asked, suddenly curious.

Harry smiled. "Yeah, it's my secondary wand, but don't tell anyone. I have it on my calf."

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Remember, I have a secondary too," Neville said with a smile. "I think it's pretty cool we have twin wands."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, and I think your grandmother was as surprised as we were."

Neville laughed. "Yeah, I saw her face. You know, when I first wrote to her about inviting you for Christmas, I don't think she believed we were friends."

"She underestimates you, you know that, right?"

Neville shrugged. "For a while she was afraid I was a squib. Great Uncle Algie kept on trying to get me to do accidental magic. I had nearly drowned once."

Harry frowned. "Madam Pomfrey told me magical children show signs of magic in different ways, and not always obviously. How often did you get sick?"

"Hmm, well, not a whole lot. Maybe once a year, if that."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "And when you got hurt, how long would it take you to get better?"

Neville squinted his eyes, thinking back. "You know, not very long at all. I had broken my wrist once, and it was fine in a few days."

Harry smiled. "Your magic is what Madam Pomfrey calls ‘introvert'. She was telling me these things when I was reading ‘Controlling Your Inner Magic.' You can read it if you want. I've finished with it."

"Okay, thanks."

"For some people, their magic expresses itself sporadically in times of stress; for others, like you, it turns inwards." Harry paused before giving a small chuckle. "You know, it might be why you're so good with plants. Things that you work on with your hands can be affected by the magic swirling just under your skin."

"That's so neat," Neville said, before tilting his head at Harry. "What sort of magic do you have?"

Harry blinked. "Hmm, I don't know. I haven't really gotten sick before. Sniffles and stuff, but nothing serious, which is really fortunate. I don't see Aunt Petunia ever fixing chicken noodle soup for me. And when I get hurt I heal pretty quick. So with that I'm like you, but I've had some pretty . . . strong incidents of accidental magic."

"Oh?" Neville asked, intrigued.

Harry shrugged. "I've appeared on a roof after being chased by my cousin and his friends; I've made my hair re-grow and turned my teacher's hair blue. That sort of thing."

"There was also that time with Smith in our dorm room," Neville reminded him.

"Oh yeah, and that."

"Maybe you're both," Neville suggested.

"I suppose it's possible. With black and white, there's also gray."

"Well, dinner is going to be ready soon. We should go get washed up," Neville said, standing up.

O o O o O

Severus placed the cork in the first flask for Harry before casting the preservation spell on it. Placing it carefully in the box to be mailed later that same hour, Severus smiled softly as he turned to begin pouring the next potion into the second flask.

This was the last of the aggressive potion regimen he had set for Harry. Finally, after five months of potions, Severus was confident Harry had recovered fully from his treatment at the Dursleys and would suffer no lasting physical or magical ill effects.

Severus had already seen an improvement, and if the other professors looked closely at the boy they would see it too. Harry had filled out a bit. Where his arms had been frail looking, he now had lean, young, boyish muscle. He was still thin, but it was a natural thin. The thin his father had been at his age, toned and lean. Severus felt an odd bit of pride rise in his chest. He had done this.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," he called, already knowing who was there.

"Hello, Severus," Remus said, carefully entering his lab.

"Lupin," he returned, before turning to get Remus' Wolfsbane potion.

Severus knew Remus was having a hard time reading him, and that was the way he liked it. He had played nice since Remus' arrival, but hadn't been warm and inviting either. He knew being too friendly would be suspicious, even though a part of him wouldn't mind becoming friends with the werewolf again, as he had been with him years in the future.

"Thank you, Severus," Remus said, taking the potion Severus was now holding for him to take.

Severus nodded before refocusing on the box he would soon be sending to Harry. He placed the second flask in after waving his wand over it.

Remus cleared his throat, obviously wanting to say something.

"Yes, Lupin?" Severus asked, his voice neither cold nor kind. It just was.

"It's not really my business, but I'm curious. . . . Every time I've come down here, I've seen you brewing these potions as you are now, though I've never seen you pouring them into flasks before. Are you taking orders from people outside the castle?" he asked. Evidently, Severus' neutral attitude toward him for the last few months invited him to be slightly nosey.

"That is an interesting idea, but no, this is not an order I've taken for some sort of covert business I'm running in lieu of being a professor," Snape answered, before pausing, wondering what he should reveal, if anything.

"Oh, I see," Remus said, a little disappointed at not being told more.

"If you must know, it is for a student, and no, I am not charging them."

Remus blinked. "A student? And they're for them to take every week? Isn't that a bit . . . I mean, those potions seem pretty serious."

"They're to repair and prevent serious problems," Severus stated simply, moving back to the last flask.

"Does the Headmaster know about this?" Remus asked suddenly, though it was obvious he regretted his quick words the moment they were out.

Severus stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "Yes. I informed him I would be providing this regimen for the student and why. He trusted my judgment and has left me to care for the student as I see fit. In fact, this is the last batch the student will need to take, at least as far as I can tell for the moment."

"Well, that's good," Remus said, slightly uneasily, afraid he had offended the potions master and botched any hope of becoming a friendly acquaintance instead of a tolerated peer.

"I am slightly surprised you haven't questioned me about this sooner," Severus stated after a moment, closing the box after placing the last flask in, along with a sealed letter.

Remus looked taken aback at the statement. "Well, I have been wondering for some time, but as it wasn't my place to ask. . . ."

"But you have asked today."

"Er . . . yes. I suppose my curiosity had gotten the better of me."

"It . . . was not an unreasonable question," Severus stated, a little hesitantly.

Remus smiled softly. "I'm glad I didn't offend."

"I am not so easily offended as I once was, Lupin."

Remus stared at him for a moment, getting a strange look in his eye Severus couldn't identify.

"Yeah, I've noticed," he said slowly, before shaking his head. "You really have turned out to be the better man. I doubt I, James or. . . ." He sighed, not able to mention Sirius. "Well, I doubt we would have been as . . . gracious as you have been to me if situations had been reversed."

Severus turned his back to Remus, securing the package to his eagle owl. "Perhaps," he whispered.

"Thanks again for the potion, Severus," Remus said, before taking his leave.

O o O o O

Harry chugged the three potions he had become accustomed to drinking every week. Having finished the last potion, he turned his attention to the Professor's letter.

Mr. Potter,

I am sure you will be pleased to learn you will no longer be receiving any more of the three potions you have undoubtedly just chugged. I am confident you have recovered and are no longer in danger of suffering lasting effects from your previous home life. However, this does not mean I want to learn you have been relaxing in the care of yourself and so have hampered yourself in reaching your full potential. I will be most displeased if such things occur.

Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master

Harry refolded the letter and placed it back in the box with a smile.

"I will take care of myself and I will reach my potential, Professor, I promise," he said quietly, alone in his room.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said, putting the box away in his trunk.

"Morning, Harry," Neville said. "Oh, you got mail?"

"Yeah, it came this morning through my window," Harry said, moving on to the dark green envelope he had skipped over to open the package from Professor Snape first.

"Gran wanted me to let you know we'll be going to St. Mungo's tomorrow to visit my parents," Neville said, much more at ease in telling that to Harry than he would have been with anyone else.

"Okay," Harry said, not really knowing what else to say.

Harry began opening the letter, seeing his name boldly scripted on the front.

Neville shuffled his feet nervously. "Um, Harry?"

"Yeah, Neville?" he asked, looking up.

"I was wondering if . . . well, if you could do something for me?"

"Yeah, sure, what is it?"

Neville grew still and broke Harry's gaze. "My parents. You can sense what is wrong with someone. I'd like you to. . . ."

"Diagnose your parents?"

Neville nodded. "I don't expect you to be able to make them better. Dozens of Healers have tried to treat them, but. . . ." He sighed, defeated.

"I'll see what is wrong, and, if I think I might be able to, I will try to help them. I promise."

Neville smiled, fighting back tears. "Thank you, Harry. I know it's silly, but . . . I. . . . Despite everything I know, I think the Healers have it wrong, and part of me hopes there is something that can be done."

"What makes you think the Healers have it wrong?"        

"My mum, she responds to me. She even . . . she gives me little things. She never even acknowledges anyone else. That has to mean something."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Okay, Neville. Tomorrow, I will see what I can learn. Maybe the Healers have missed something, and I can tell them."

Neville smiled, unable to say anything. Harry looked back down to the letter and opened it.

To Mister Harry James Potter

You are cordially invited to join the Malfoy family for their annual Christmas Party

December 23rd

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

Malfoy Manor

Wiltshire, England

4 - 11 pm

Dinner and drinks will be provided

Formal attire

Harry blinked, before another sheet of paper fell from the envelope.

Hey Harry,

Hope your holiday is going well so far, and hope to see you at the party. Normally they can be pretty dull, but with you there it's sure to be much better, so just RSVP before next week if you can come.

Your friend,

Draco

"Well, this is interesting," Harry said.