"Neville, your toad got slime all over my knitting again!" Hermione Granger exclaimed with a grimace of distaste.

Neville Longbottom hurried over to clean up the mess his pet had left behind. The boy pushed his glasses up on his nose, took his wand out of his pocket, and whispered a quick and effective cleaning spell. Granger's stormy expression brightened considerably as she took up the knitting needles. 

"You should keep better track of your pet, you know," she said. 

The black-haired boy kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to respond to the girl. She always spoke her mind and took offense whenever anyone argued with her logic. Neville sighed heavily and started the customary hunt for his wandering amphibian. He really needed to learn better caging spells to keep his pet from escaping into the common room. 

"Harry!"

"You made it back, mate. We were worried."

Neville glanced over his shoulder towards the trio of classmates huddled by the fireplace. Harry Potter had returned from another round of detention with Severus Snape, the school's potions professor, and was being greeted by Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. The three had been inseparable since first year and Neville felt his heart ache with envy at the easy friendship they shared. 

Harry Potter was The-Boy-Who-Lived, the only person to ever be hit by a killing curse and survive, and everyone in the wizarding world knew his name. Neville wondered if he would ever be that famous. He hung his head, his throat tightening as his grandmother's harsh words circled through his head. 

"You'll never amount to anything, you good-for-nothing! It's all your whore mother's fault. It's her fault you don't fit. It's her fault my son is at St. Mungo's!"

Neville closed his eyes tightly and bit back the whimper that clawed up his throat. When he opened his emerald green eyes again, they were moist with unshed tears. He continued searching for Trevor and finally found him under a table next to the stairs leading to the girls' dorms. 

He was carrying the toad towards his room when he heard several muffled giggles. Turning, he saw two girls from third year oggling Harry from a distance. Rolling his eyes, the boy continued onward. 

* * *

Harry Potter opened his clasped hands to reveal a tiny sprout and a small amount of potting dirt nestled in his palms. 

"What is it?" Ron asked curiously. 

"That would be sneezewort," Hermione said with a knowing glance at the silvery-gray foliage and yellow blossoms. 

"Actually, it's a moonshine yarrow," Harry replied smugly. 

Hermione looked surprised and leaned over to study the plant, her nose practically touching it. Harry loved plants and he was always bringing new and interesting ones into Gryffindor tower, where he had started a small nursery for magical and non-magical plants. It had taken some sweet-talking on the trio's part, but McGonagall had finally approved a small section of the seventh-year dorms to be dedicated to the project. 

"Where did you find it?" Hermione asked, straightening. 

Harry beamed at his friend. "Hagrid found it for me. He asked me down to tea, tomorrow. You two are invited," he added. 

"Oh, good! I just finished a pair of winter gloves for him," the girl held up her knitting project. Each glove was big enough for her to wear as a hat and they were striped in the Gryffindor colors. 

"Looks great, 'Mione," Ron gave his girlfriend a proud grin. 

She blushed and hid a pleased smile. The trio were on their way to the library next, wanting to look up the different uses of magical and non-magical yarrow plants. Harry's enthusiasm for herbology had grown on the rest of the Gryffindor clan.

* * *

Severus Snape placed the old cauldron set on the table before Neville, dusting off the top with a flick of his wand.

"These were mine in third year and I would like you to use them until you are able to get some of your own," the potions master said.

Neville's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in shock. No one had ever given him anything so valuable and he vowed to make the cauldrons shine before he returned them at the end of the year.

"Thank you, sir," he said, ducking his head in gratitude.

Ever since Neville's first day in potions class, Severus had found himself feeling fond of the boy. It was the eyes; brilliant, kind and green. They reminded him so much of his childhood best friend, Lily Evans. Both of them had the same gentle nature and diligent work ethic. In fact, the boy often took word-for-word notes in class.

"Remedial potions today will most likely cut into Quidditch practice," Snape warned.

"That doesn't matter, sir. I didn't get picked for the team," Neville mumbled.

Snape's eyebrows raised in surprise. He had witnessed the boy use impeccable reflexes to contain a potentially explosive potion. It was the reason the professor had decided to donate his old set of cauldrons to the boy. The set that Neville had been using were contaminated with residual charm energy which caused his potions to react violently to certain common ingredients. Severus wanted to understand the origins of the tainted cauldrons, but respected Neville's silence when questioned.

"Shall we begin?" Severus asked, using his wand to accio the required jars and vials.

Neville nodded and pushed his glasses up on his nose, a determined glint shinning in his eyes. "Thank you, sir, for being willing to help me.'

"I am a teacher. It is a job requirement," Snape said dryly. "Now, we will be brewing a blood matching potion that identifies the type of blood you have in the event that you must accept or give a blood transfusion in the future. Every student must brew this potion and the results are kept on file here at Hogwarts. It has saved many lives."

Neville opened his mouth to ask a question, then appeared to think better of it and closed it again.

"Do you have a question, Neville?" Snape asked.

"I was just wondering if my parents would have a file..." his voice grew quiet and then faded completely, his fingers twisting the cuff of his robes. "Sorry, that was stupid. Nevermind."

Severus stepped forward and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I will request a copy from Madam Pomfrey," he said softly. "It is not stupid to want to know about your heritage; it is only natural."

Neville tried to smile, to show his teacher how thankful he was for the rare show of support, but instead he found himself holding back a wave of unexpected tears. The weight of Snape's hand on his shoulder felt suddenly too heavy and Neville shrugged away. He felt a deep grief for sharing this moment with a teacher, instead of his dad.

* * *

"Today we will be brewing a blood matching potion. Do any of you know what this is - anyone besides Ms. Granger?" Snape asked, his gaze sweeping over the class of Gryffindor and Slytherin students. "No one?"

A hand hesitantly appeared.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?" Snape tried not to alter his tone, but he felt proud that the boy was taking initiative,

"It is a potion that identifies your blood type so that if you are injured you can get a transfusion. It is also used to find possible donors for sick people." Neville bit his lip. There was more, he knew it, but his mind had gone suddenly blank.

Seeing the frantic expression on his student's face and accurately guessing its cause, Snape turned with a billowing of his robes and flicked his wand at the black board. Writing appeared: Blood Matching Potion.

"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom." Snape then shot a sharp glare towards trio of Gryffindors that he considered his 'trouble students'. "Let us begin."

* * *

Class had been dismissed, but Harry Potter stayed behind to talk with Professor Snape.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape asked, not glancing up from the papers he was sorting on his desk.

"I, um, in class you said that every student's files are kept at school. Well, that is, I was wondering if there was any way to look at my parents' files? I never knew them, and..." the boy trailed off, trying not to sound too pleading.

Severus shot Harry a calculating glance and nodded in silent consent.

"Alright, then. Thanks, sir. I guess," Harry turned and hurried out of the classroom.

* * *

Two days after receiving the brews from professor Snape, Madam Pomfrey looked up to the sound of a knock on her office door. She stood, ready to face whatever emergency waited on the other side. Opening the door, she found Snape, a file in each hand and a perplexed expression on his face.

"How may I help you, professor?" she asked.

"I believe you may have a mistake in your records. The files I requested for Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom appear to have been switched, somehow."

Pomfrey frowned. "That is impossible. Everything is triple checked for accuracy."

"Nonetheless, if these records are to be believed Neville Longbottom is not related to either of his parents and the same would also be true for Mr. Potter. There must be a mistake," Snape insisted.

"Let me see those," the mediwitch held out a hand.

Snape turned over the files and watched as she looked them over page by page. Her face suddenly paled and Snape felt his stomach lurch at her shocked gasp.

"What is it?" and how will it affect Neville? He didn't voice the last part but his palms had begun to sweat.

"This is not supposed to happen. This is... not good." Madam Pomfrey looked up at him. "I am sorry, professor Snape, but I must discuss these developments with the proper authorities and due to confidentiality regulations, I'm afraid I cannot tell you anymore than that at this time."

"Authorities? What did you find? Please, at least tell me if it will have an impact on Mr. Longbottom," Snape needed to know what she had discovered.

"I daresay it will," was all she said before disappearing into her office.

Snape heard the sound of the floo and then nothing.

* * *

Harry Potter approached the turning staircase that lead to the Headmaster's office. From the opposite direction he saw Neville hurrying towards him.

"Shouldn't you be in Herbology?" Harry asked the other boy.

"I got a note," Neville held up a slip of paper that looked identical to the one clutched in Harry's hand. "Oh, you too?"

"Yes." Harry wondered what could possible require them both. "Lemon Sherbert."

The statue moved with the groan of stone on stone to reveal the staircase. Neville followed Harry onto the steps and they both waited, shifting nervously, to arrive at the wooden door that lead to the Headmaster's office to appear. When it did, the boys were surprised to find it open.

"Come in, boys," McGonagall called from within.

Once inside, they were directed to two chairs seated opposite Dumbledore's large desk. McGonagall sat in the chair usually reserved for the Headmaster.

"Albus is not able to be here tonight, but I have something very important - something life-changing - to tell you boys."

Harry swallowed hard, his mouth going dry. His head of house looked like she would rather be anywhere else doing anything else, but her eyes softened when she noticed his nervous fidgeting. Neville sat patiently as both of them waited to hear the news that would change their world forever.

"There was a mistake made a long time ago." McGonagall began slowly, her hands steepled before her on the desk. "Do either of you know about St. Mungo's?"

"The Daily Prophet said that's where Lockhart is being treated" Harry answered promptly.

"My parents are there," Neville added softly.

"Of course," McGonagall gave him an encouraging smile. "Then, you know that people go there for all kinds of reasons."

"Yes."

The woman took a deep breath and continued. "One of the reasons people go there is to have babies. When there is a problem, or the mother does not want to have a home birth, the doctors at St. Mungo's help. Both of you were born there on the same day. Did you know that?" she asked them.

Harry and Neville glanced at each other, both too confused and alarmed to comment.

"There was a mix up after you were born. You were both -"

The floo burst to life, the flame extinguishing around the form of Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. The boy tried not to react, keeping his face expressionless. The woman strode forward, brushing soot off her dress.

"I am so sorry I am late!" she exclaimed.

"You are just in time, actually," McGonagall replied with a saccharine smile. "I was just telling these boys about what happened."

Harry frowned. "You haven't told us anything, yet. Just a whole bunch of stuff about babies that we don't understand."

Augusta beamed proudly, placing her hands on Harry's shoulders - the boy stiffened in surprise. "That's my Frank's boy!" she said with tears in her eyes.

Neville looked up at his grandmother's shining eyes and wondered if she had finally lost her mind. Would she be next to be sent to St. Mungo's? He felt destined to be alone and unloved.

McGonagall looked taken aback by Mrs. Longbottom's announcement and she stood, a fierce expression overtaking her features.

"Augusta, I asked you here as a courtesy, but I must insist that you leave if you are going to be so insensitive."

Neville looked between his grandmother and his head of house, fear growing at the nonsensical conversation taking place over his head. The two women stared at each other for a long moment and then a decision seemed to be silently reached. Augusta smiled down at Harry and squeezed his shoulders before taking a step back.

"I will see you soon, dear, but I think I should leave the kind woman to explain things to you both." Augusta did not so much as look at Neville before walking out of the room.

McGonagall flourished her wand and the door closed with a loud clang. With a huff of annoyance, the professor returned to her seat.

"I apologize for that, Neville," she said with a sad smile.

Harry and Neville shared matching looks of confusion and unease.

"What is going on, ma'am?" Neville asked quietly, not certain that he wanted to know.

"I don't know how it happened, but there was a mistake at St. Mungo's fifteen years ago. You were each given to the wrong parents."

Silence fell.

"I know this is hard to understand," the teacher continued, "but now that the mistake has been discovered, we must move forward in correcting it."

"But... you mean... I have a family?" Harry's eyes shone bright with hope.

Neville felt as if the floor had just dropped out from under him. Leaning over his chair, the boy vomited onto the floor. Blushing furiously, he used a quick cleaning spell to eradicate the mess.

"Neville, are you alright? Do you need a calming draught?" McGonagall asked, her voice heavy with concern.

"I'll be fine," the boy murmured.

"This is truly a shock and I understand if you need time to let it all sink in. Neville, I asked your grandmother here so that she could help you through this process, but, given what I have witnessed so far, I think it best if I accompany you to the tower."

"Yes, please," Neville responded.

Harry leaned forward in his seat. "That old woman - she's my grandmother?! Can I talk to her? Do I have parents now? What about the Dursleys - do I have to go back there? Where do I live now? What if I -"

McGongall raised a hand to stop the flood of questions. "There will be plenty of time for answers, Harry, but for the moment I need you to trust me."

"But -"

"Wait here and I will come back once Neville has been returned to Gryffindor tower."

Harry nodded. "Okay."

Neville stood and followed as his teacher lead the way to the fireplace.

"I don't normally do this, Neville, but I would rather you not have to meet your grandmother again,just yet," McGonagall explained. "Well use the floo,this once."

Several seconds later, Harry Potter was left alone as the boy he could have been and their head of house disappeared into the green flames. The-Boy-Who-Lived felt his skin itch with unasked questions and sudden expectation.

He had a family.

* * *

Snape stared down into the sad, frightened green eyes of his student and his heart skipped a beat. This was Lily's son.

"I'm not sure if I was supposed to tell you, but I had to tell someone," Neville agonized. "Am I in trouble, now?"

Snape crouched down so that he was at the boy's eye level. "Not at all. I'm glad that you chose to trust me with this," the professor said.

"You're the only person I can trust," the boy stated matter-of-factly.

Snape swallowed hard. "I'm sure you have friends in the tower." He needed to hear a 'yes' from the boy.

"They think I'm stupid and lazy. I'm not," Neville added hurriedly, "but no one really talks to me."

The boy turned his head away and for a moment, Severus thought he would run out of the classroom, but after an aborted lurch towards the door, Neville remained still. There was no sound, but the professor could see the boy's shoulders shaking. Snape was uncertain of how to respond to the crying child.

"And n-now I d-don't have a d-dad or m-mum, either!" the boy said between silent sobs.

Severus could feel Lily's gaze focused on him from beyond the veil, she was watching this moment; he finally had a chance at redemption. He took the boy by the shoulders and turned him so that they were facing.

"Your mother's name was Lily and she was the most kind, considerate and intelligent witch I have ever known. She was my best friend."

Neville's damp eyes opened wide, "She was?" he asked in awe.

"Yes." Snape nodded. "And you are not alone. You will always have me."

Snape did something then that he never thought he would. Opening his mouth with the intention of comforting the boy further, he said nonchalantly. "Neville, would you like to come live with me?"

Neville looked confused. "In the dungeons?" he asked.

A smile softened Snape's face. "At my home on Spinner's End," he clarified.

"Why?" Neville asked.

"Because everyone deserves to have a family." Snape hoped the boy understood what he was offering.

"What about my grandmother - I mean Harry's grandmother - I mean," Neville stopped, looking devastated and uncertain.

"Do you want to stay with her?"

"She doesn't want me, anymore," Neville admitted in defeat.

"Would living with me be so bad?" Snape asked, not understanding the boy's hesitance.

"No," Neville said. The boy who should have been Harry Potter looked up, then, hope burning bright in his green eyes, "I'd like that, sir - it wouldn't be bad, at all."