Yo! I'm TheSlytherinMuggleborn, and this is my fanfiction "Harry and Neville : The Runaway Duo (The Philosopher's Stone)" This is my first fiction on my new account, but I have written before. This has had some editing done by a friend of mine, but, by official standards is un-betad. I hope that you enjoy this, and know that I will gladly take suggestions!

"-And there'll be no supper for you, little freak of a shit!" Vernon Dursley roared, as a seven year old Harry Potter scrambled back to his cupboard, sporting several new bruises. Tears streaming down his face, Harry curled up, wishing to get away. Away from this prison of a house, from this cell of a cupboard. He would rather live on the streets, or be kidnapped! Or even raised by wolves. At least with wolves you know that kin look after kin. So the young Harry rolled over, unaware of the fact that he had bottled his accidental magic, and it was ready for one big change, one great burst to save his very being. Harry rolled over, unaware of a small patch of fur sprouting on his chest.

Harry awoke, and blinked, the image of his cupboard coming into focus. He stood up, yelping in shock! Looking down he studied his paws. He spun around, lo-and-behold, there was a fluffy black tail. He chased it for a few moments, wondering if this was what dogs felt like. This was cool. Very cool. But impractical – he was still small enough that Uncle Vernon would catch him, and the 'freakishness' would only bring about more punishments. He sat, and looked at his paws, willing them to turn back into hands. He sat for a while, wondering what he had to do. Tired, he relaxed, eyes still on his paws. He felt a rush of warmth, like a gentle breeze, or the aftermath of a light rain. It felt good, so he allowed it to fill him up, and reach from his ears to his tail. Soon, he was sitting as a boy again, his natural curiosity running his thoughts at a million miles an hour. What, Why, How… Astounded, he wondered if he could repeat the action. Allowing the rushing feeling to flow over him once more, a black wolf pup sat in place of Harry Potter. He repeated the process several times, curious as to how this was possible. It shouldn't be possible… so was it magic?

Magic wasn't supposed to exist… Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had said it enough times. But they also called him a freak. It doesn't feel good to be called a freak, so maybe magic-people hid, so that they didn't get hurt. It was reasonable enough… But what else could Harry do? Could he lift his books without touching them? Maybe he could vanish away the lock on his cupboard… but first he needed to get out. Get out and run and never look back. Harry didn't want to be called a freak. He didn't want to be hit and have things thrown at him for no reason at all. He didn't want to be the object of 'Harry Hunting'. He would wait until Petunia told him to weed the garden, as she did every Wednesday, and he would go. He didn't know where, and he didn't care. Today was Tuesday, he would hide some steal some food to take with him… and then he would go. Of course he had thought about running away before, but people would be looking for a little boy, not a scruffy pup. In Less than two days' time, no one would have a clue as to where Harry Potter was.

Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin

(About 9 Months Later)

Neville Longbottom had had enough. He had no magic, no matter how many times Great-Uncle Algie nearly killed him – nothing happened. He wouldn't go to Hogwarts, and wouldn't be an Auror like his dad. It hurt, yes, but what was truly wrong with being a squib? His gran wanted him to be his dad – she had even called him 'Frank' accidentally – but he was simply unconcerned by the same things that his father was. He wondered if he was more like his mum, but gran didn't speak of her much, and even told him to throw away his gifts from her. Okay, so they were wrappers – she still cared! Completely out of her mind and she cared.

Gran didn't care. Her love was conditional. He had to have powerful magic and be a Frank jr. But he wasn't. He had people, but he was alone. Maybe being actually alone would make it hurt less. So he left. He used the floo powder to get to muggle London, and walked. Now he was tired, and he was hungry, and he had nowhere to go. He slipped into an alley, sat down, and tears slipped silently down his face. He couldn't go forward, because he didn't know how, but he couldn't go back, because that was even worse.

The dejected boy barely registered the hand on his shoulder. He turned, registering messy black hair, and bright green eyes, right behind glasses with tape on the bridge. "I'm not going to ask if you're okay, because you're not. I'm going to ask what's wrong." Neville stared straight ahead, slightly put off by the boy's bluntness. The black-haired boy couldn't be older than him, but looked a fair bit more worn. Choosing to trust his peer, Neville began to ramble "I ran away from home because no one really cares and my gran, she raised me, wants me to be just like my dad but I'm not and everyone's disappointed in me because I can't do magic-" Neville cut off abruptly, slamming a hand over his mouth after realizing what he had just said, looking at the scruffy boy in horror. The boy simply smiled, and stuck out his hand. "So you need a place to stay. Come on, I've got a setup only a couple blocks away. My name's Harry, by the way."

Neville stood shakily, and introduced himself to the boy-Harry. "I'm Neville. What do you mean, you have a setup?" Harry smiled. "I ran away too, a few months ago. My reasons are different though. We had better get going, the coppers don't enjoy kids like us hanging around." Neville followed Harry, curious as to his lack of comment on magic. Maybe he simply hadn't heard? Or did he already know? None the less, Neville followed Harry along the streets, down a couple of alleys, and towards an abandoned apartment building.

Around the side, Harry pulled a loose board away from the window and crawled inside, holding the way open for Neville, and then sealing it up again. Scanning the room, Neville noticed several blankets, pillows, and an air mattress. There were some cracker boxes and water bottles. A few books. Harry came up beside him, saying, "It's not much, but it's home. You're welcome to stay, if you like." Neville blinked at Harry "I don't want to be a bother…" "You're not a bother, Neville. I don't have many friends, and people should not be judged because of what they can and cannot do." Neville looked at Harry with eyes like an owl, Harry did hear him – and believed him! He didn't look shocked at all though. The smiling street boy told him "You look tired" Gesturing to the bed he said "Take a nap. I need to head out for some supplies." "Th-thank you, Harry." Stuttered Neville. "Don't worry about it. I'll be back soon." He slipped out the window and was gone.

Before leaving, Harry called out to Trunca*, a snake friend of his. The parselmouth had discovered his ability soon after he left the Dursley's, and the snake gave Harry a 101 course in being a Speaker. The small snake slithered into view, "Yesss, young ssspeaker?" "I have a friend here jussst now, Neville. He is sssleeping, but if you could watch over him, it would give me peaccce of mind." "I exxxpect a rat upon your return, young ssspeaker." Harry smirked, "I wouldn't dream of forgetting." The boy slipped into his wolf form, and ran through the back alleys towards Hyde Park, looking to snatch up some squirrels for a decent supper.

As he travelled the familiar path, his thoughts turned to Neville. An outcast in his one home, just like he was, but for completely opposite reasons. As he had been separated for his magical abilities, Neville had been separated for his lack thereof. Harry supposed that people are attracted to people like themselves, and push away those who are different. But Neville could very well have magic, but Harry's own experience taught him that stress and pressures did one's ability no favor, as he had become quite adept at summoning his magic wandlessly and wordlessly for varying tasks. Stressed at the attempts to force his magic, and pressured to be a miniature of his father, it was no wonder that his magic wasn't surfacing.

Approaching the park, Harry turned his thoughts to hunting, and allowed the majority of his instincts take over. Collecting two squirrels and a rat, he made his way home. Dropping the rat in front of Trunca, he returned to his usual physical state, and slipped into his simple abode. Neville was still asleep, so he quietly made his way to the fire pit. He skinned the creatures clean, and stuck them on his makeshift spit. He used his magic to light the fire, and rotate the squirrels over the flame. Pondering how to introduce his magic to Neville, he decided to keep his routine relatively normal - he would find out rather quickly.

Pulling the squirrels from the stick, he slipped them onto two plates, and filled two cups with water. (He had three sets of dishes – he washed then at the end of the day)He shook the sleeping boy, who looked around in confusion before sitting up. Harry handed him a plate, which Neville accepted, but not without saying "Thank you… you really didn't have to." Harry smiled "Well I'm not going to let you starve. It can be tough out here – you take meals where you can get some." Neville nodded solemnly. Taking a bite he said "I've never had squirrel before – it's really good!" Harry smiled at the compliment. "Thanks. It's better when I can snag some herbs from the market stall. I don't like to steal, but I do what I have to." Neville responded "It's okay. Most people would rather you steal and be alive than not steal and die." Harry snorted "My aunt and uncle wouldn't." Neville looked puzzled.

"But shouldn't they…"

"Care?" Neville nodded.

"Well, they don't. After my parents died – supposedly in a car crash, but I don't know if I should trust anything that they said – I went to live with my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. They hate anything different or abnormal… I fall into that category. I was locked in a cupboard o sleep, and sometimes they hit me. My cousin Dudley and his friends would go 'Harry Hunting' which usually resulted in me being hurt and Vernon laughing. Eventually I had had enough."

"Oh… I'm sorry about your parents."

"It's okay, I was only about a year old. I don't remember them… But I'm pretty sure that they loved me."

Neville smiled. "My parents aren't dead but… an… evil person tortured them. I was only little as well… so I've never seen them, well, sane. I know that my mum cares, though. She gives me little gifts, just candy wrappers… but it's more than anyone ever expected." He then looked away.

"I'm sorry. At least you can talk to them though. Whether they get it or not… at least they're there." Harry slowly added, "Neville, I think that our parents might have been lost to us by similar people."

Neville looked at him sharply. "What makes you say that?" Harry summoned some paper to himself, making Neville's jaw drop in shock.

"You're a wizard." He whispered.

"I suppose so. As I said, my Aunt and Uncle told me my parents died in a car crash… but I remember it. Not much. Glimpses from my dreams. A scream that I think belonged to my mother. Red eyes… sometimes there will be a cold laugh. Then a green light… and nothing."

"You should be dead." Neville blurted.

"Pardon?"

"Th-the green light. That's the killing curse. No one survives it… except…"

"Except what?"

"On Halloween, in 1981 a very dark wizard… no one even says his name out of fear. He wanted to kill a baby… for whatever reason. I think that he wanted to kill the parents and… well, finish the job. He succeeded with the grown-ups, but when he cast the curse on the baby it backfired. No one knows why, so You-Know-Who is dead, and if your name is Harry Potter, you lived, with only a lightning bolt scar to show for what happened."

Harry then lifted the fringe of his hair, revealing the scar for Neville to see. The new runaway sucked in a breath, unsure of what to say. Harry spoke first.

"So that's what happened. Aunt Petunia must have known what happened… but they just called me a freak, even though there are plenty of other people like me and you. Thank you for telling me, Neville."

"N-No problem. But I'm not like you, I've got no magic or anything…"

"I would stake that you do."

"Why?" Neville asked confusedly.

"If there is anything that I actually understand about magic, is that it's harder to do when you're stressed or frustrated. You've been pressured on all sides your whole life. A few weeks and I'll be able to help you with it!"

"I dunno Harry… and what if I've really got no magic? I just…"

"Just nothing! Magic or no, you're my friend now! 'Harry Potter and Neville… what did you say your last name was?"

"I… didn't. It's Longbottom."

"Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, the Runaway Duo!"

Neville chuckled at that, responding "Or 'Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter : The Family-Challenged Freaks!"

Harry began to laugh. "We'll show the world Neville! You can teach me more about the ins and outs of magic theory, and I'll teach you about street life and practical stuff until we find something better!"

"That does sounds like fun, Harry. Thank you. Now, what do we do next?"

*Trunca is latin for 'limbless'. Creative, I know. Next chapter is coming soon!