Did you ever think you'd see a HP/Ninjago fanfic?

Well you are

12% credit goes to justalostfangirl

Enjoy!

Hogwarts. Probably the first Wizarding School to accept a Squib. I'm that Squib. Neville Longbottom, son of the famous (or infamous, depending on whose side you're on) Aurors turned out to have no powers. That's what most people thought until I was eight. My great-aunt held me by my feet and dropped me a good four stories. Miraculously, I bounced back up. That made everyone sure I was a full Wizard. Except me, that is. I think someone must've levitated me back up, 'cause I haven't done any magic since.

God knows why Dumbledore admitted me into what is possibly the greatest Wizarding School of all time. On my eleventh birthday, my only present was my father's old wand. I thought that having a wand might be the key to unlocking my powers. But, of course, it wasn't.

The Hogwarts Express was probably the worst reward I've ever received. I spent hours trying to enter Platform 9¾, and once I did, I expected big ol' reward, but instead I got a six hour train ride. We're magic, wouldn't it be smarter to teleport us to Hogwarts?

I sat all alone in my little Booth of Solitude for a good hour, until a girl with unruly brown hair invited herself in.

"Hello, there. Is it alright with you of I sit here? All the other booths are much too noisy for reading?" she said.

"Um…" I said.

"Thanks." she sat right down across from me and started reading.

"Um, I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom." I said.

"Hermione Jean Granger. Pleased to meet you." Hermione never looked up from her book.

"What're you reading?"

"Hogwarts: A History. It's quite interesting, really."

"I haven't read it yet."

"You should give it a read. Any and everything Hogwarts was involved in is in this book." we sat in silence for a few minutes, until the train abruptly stopped.

"How odd. This train is fueled entirely by magic, it's supposed to run for an eternity." Hermione said.

"Maybe someone or something is blocking our path." I said.

Hermione closed her book. "Well, I'm going to see what's going on." she returned half an hour later.

"Did you find out what happened?" I asked.

"No. But, did you know that Harry Potter is attending Hogwarts this year? He's on the train now."

"As in the Harry Potter? The very same Harry Potter who ended the Dark Days, Harry Potter?"

"That's the one. He's actually not what you expect. Skinny and frail."

"But still…he's the Boy Who Lived. He's a Wizarding legend."

"So I've heard." the Express started moving again. "Looks like they fixed the train." Hermione went back to her book.

When the train reached Hogwarts, Hermione and I said our goodbyes and see-you-laters, then we gathered our things and followed the other First Years to Hogwarts. Then came the Sorting. I was, again for reasons unknown, placed into what was possibly the greatest Hose of all time. Gryffindor. Perfect. More standards to live up to.

Harry Potter was also placed in Gryffindor, which meant we might have some classes together, which would be pretty stellar. Hermione was also sorted into Gryffindor.

My first year at Hogwarts was pretty dull. Entirely dull, really. Hermione became good friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and I just spent my time sucking in everything, save Herbology. I especially sucked in Potions. The Potions Master, Professor Snape, had a special hatred towards me. Before he even said a word to any of the First Years, he walked into the classroom, looked at me, and scowled.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, The Golden Trio as some people called them, had quite the antithesis of a year in comparison to mine. Only they and a few of the Professors know exactly what happened, but every rumor goes against the other, so no one has a clue what happened.

Now, my Second Year at Hogwarts was quite the improvement.