The Start of Something New
Neville Longbottom had always been a boy with few friends. His parents, while loving, had demanding jobs that left them with little time for social gatherings. His grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, was deeply committed to raising him well but had a strong distrust of most families with children his age—they were either Death Eater sympathizers or, as she termed it, “blind Dumbledore followers.” And so, Neville grew up in a world of adults, a quiet observer on the periphery of conversations, always watching but never truly a part of them.
As a result, he matured quickly, developing a shy and somewhat nervous disposition simply because he had never learned how to interact with children his own age.
That all changed when he was nearly eleven. His grandmother and parents, who had grown closer to the Potter family over the years, introduced him to Harry. Harry, in turn, introduced him to Hermione.
Neville was thrilled to have friends at last, though he often felt like an outsider looking in, especially as Harry and Hermione quickly formed a close bond. But they never made him feel unwelcome. The three of them could often be found exploring gardens, playing together, or more often, sitting under the shade of a large tree, sharing books and tidbits of knowledge.
For the first time, Neville wasn’t afraid of Hogwarts. He had friends he trusted, and he believed in them as much as they believed in him.
That was why he was genuinely shocked when his grandmother one day announced that she wanted him to meet Draco Malfoy.
“Draco Malfoy?” Neville echoed, blinking up at her. He had heard whispers of the Malfoy family’s past allegiance to the Dark Lord.
“Yes,” Augusta said firmly. “His mother, Narcissa, is an old acquaintance of mine. I think you should meet the boy.”
And so, on a sunny afternoon, Neville found himself at Malfoy Manor, standing beside his grandmother as Narcissa Malfoy greeted them.
Her smile widened when she saw him. “Mippy,” she called out.
A small house-elf appeared, wearing a neatly pressed pink pinafore.
“Could you please ask Draco to come to the drawing room? I think he would enjoy meeting a new friend.”
Mippy nodded and vanished with a quiet pop.
As Augusta and Narcissa settled into conversation, Neville glanced around the drawing room. Everything about Malfoy Manor felt grand and intimidating—polished wood, gleaming chandeliers, portraits that seemed to watch him as he moved.
Then he noticed the other boy.
Draco Malfoy had entered so quietly that Neville hadn’t even realized he was there. The pale-haired boy studied him with an expression that was unreadable, his silver eyes older than his years.
Realizing that he had been spotted, Draco’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles. It was not unfriendly, but it was measured.
“Good morning,” he said.
Augusta looked up, and Neville was surprised to see a delighted smile on her face.
“Draco, it is good to see you again. Let me introduce you to my grandson, Neville. I believe you might be in the same year at Hogwarts.”
Draco nodded politely. “Nice to meet you again, Lady Longbottom.” He then turned to Neville, his tone carrying an odd sense of certainty. “Hello, Neville. I think we’ll be spending a lot of time together in the future.”
Neville hesitated. Draco spoke with the kind of confidence that made it sound like a fact, not a possibility.
Before he could respond, Draco looked at the adults and said, “Why don’t I show Neville around? I think he would enjoy seeing the greenhouse.”
The women exchanged approving nods, and Neville followed Draco out of the room, still trying to process the encounter.
They walked in silence for a while before Draco suddenly remarked, his tone dry but not unkind, “You’ll need to start speaking up more. Otherwise, she’s going to walk all over you.”
Neville frowned. “She? Do you mean my grandmother?”
Draco just smirked and kept walking.
The afternoon passed in a companionable quiet, with Neville studying Draco as much as Draco seemed to be studying him. There was something about the other boy’s sharp glances that made Neville feel like he was being assessed.
By the time the visit ended, they both knew they wouldn’t mind spending more time together.
Two weeks later, Narcissa Malfoy was working hard to keep her emotions in check. Two weeks later, Augusta Longbottom was inspecting Neville’s Hogwarts robes with a critical eye. Two weeks later, James Potter was helping his son carry a cage that contained his new snowy owl, Hedwig.
All four boys—Harry, Neville, Draco, and Theo—were nervous. But none were as nervous as Hermione Granger.
At home, she rushed around, grabbing last-minute items and whispering furiously to herself.
Then, she froze and suddenly wailed, “NO ONE IS GOING TO WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME!”
Richard and Jean Granger exchanged amused glances.
Jean placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Hermione, dear, you already have friends. Remember? Harry will be thrilled to see you. And you liked Neville too, didn’t you?”
“What if they don’t like me anymore once we’re at Hogwarts?” she fretted.
Richard chuckled and ruffled her curly hair. “That would be their loss. You are a treasure, Hermione. Anyone who doesn’t see that isn’t worth your time.”
Hermione took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m ready.”
At King’s Cross, the Potters were already waiting.
“We thought you might not know how to get to the platform!” Harry grinned.
Hermione was still staring in awe at the enchanted barrier when she accidentally ran into someone.
Startled, she stumbled back. A pale-haired boy with striking silver eyes stood before her.
He smirked. “Most people would apologize.”
Hermione, without thinking, shot back, “You have eyes too! Where’s your apology?”
The boy laughed.
Jean caught up to her. “Hermione! Don’t run off like that!” Then she noticed the boy and smiled warmly. “Oh! You’ve made a new friend already! Hello, dear. I’m Jean Granger, Hermione’s mother.”
The boy returned the smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I’m Draco Malfoy.” He turned to Hermione, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “I’ll see you on the train.”
Narcissa and Lucius, watching from a distance, exchanged a look of bemused confusion.
As Draco walked back, Narcissa reached for him. “Are you alright? Who is she?”
Draco glanced back at Hermione, his expression thoughtful. “Hermione Granger. She’s… going to be important.”
His parents exchanged a glance.
Before they could say anything, the train whistled, and Draco looked back at them, back to his normal self. “Looks like we need to get going,” he said, looking for Theo and Pansy, who stood with Pansy’s parents.
Narcissa felt a deep ache in her chest as she watched Theo and Pansy approach. Though only one of them was truly hers, all three children had become part of her heart. And now, she was sending them off into a world that would shape their futures in ways she could not control.
And soon, it was time. The children boarded the train, and for almost everyone on that platform, it felt as if their lives had changed forever.