Augusta Longbottom suppressed a sigh as she settled herself down in one of the lesser used sitting rooms. Around her, a group of her social peers sipped tea and gossiped about their children and grandchildren. Her social group shrank considerably during the war. So many friends gone, so many families whipped from existence due to the murderous mechanisms of a megalomaniac. So many members of her generation dead, so many others raising their grandchildren. Worse still some had suddenly found themselves the last of their lines, after the untimely deaths of children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren.

Her Frank was gone, a cruel victim of a crueler war that had left him and his wife alive but forever changed. Neville had started Hogwarts this year, and she was glad her shy sweet grandson would have friends with him as he began this next adventure. Nick was spoiled, but he was a good boy. She counted herself lucky that her Frank had such a good friend in James that the man still took the time to ensure their sons remained close. With James at Hogwarts she didn't have to worry about her grandson.

She listened to her friends and acquaintances as talk turned to the Next Generation and Possible marriage alliances. While she didn't normally agree with such arrangements, the war and the consequential steep decline in their population made such considerations necessary. Still she would prefer to wait a few years before discussing her grandson's marriage prospects.

The current hot topic seemed to be which family would snag the Boy –Who-Lived for their daughter. A few of her peers had even lamented that their sons were not Daughters. A thought that was both Inane and preposterous. What family wanted their line to end simply for the prestige having a daughter marry a celebrity?

She glanced up as House Elf Popped into existence at her elbow.

"Letter for yous missy Longbottoms." The creature squeaked. Holding out a letter bearing the Potter crest.

She set her tea cup down upon its saucer on the low table, and took the missive with a slight nod of thanks. The house elf squeaked, sketched a slight bow and popped back out of existence. A quick glance assured her that the Missive, although formal was not from Lord Potter. She'd had enough experience with James to recognize his handwriting. Which meant that the missive had to have come from the Potter Heir and not the house's Lord.

Curious, as Nickolas usually had to be coaxed into writing anything longer then a brief thank you note, she uttered hasty apologies for her rudeness and hastily read the letter.

What she found within did not please her in the least.

Nick confessed to being worried about her grandson and while he knew that his actions in going to Augusta would in no way ingratiate himself in Neville's eyes. He confessed to being more concerned with Neville's safety and the continued reputation of House Longbottom as a light family, then he was for their continued friendship at this time. It seemed the boys had grown apart in their short tenure at Hogwarts, and despite Nick's best efforts, Neville had fallen in with "the wrong sort." That acquaintance had apparently nearly gotten her grandson killed on Halloween night. Nick was writing to her as a result of the incident, hoping she could get through to Neville where he as a friend could not.

Furious, and worried, Augusta excused herself and left for Hogwarts.

((({ })))

Hyorimaru groaned as he made his way to the Great Hall for the evening meal. It had been a long day. The debacle with the damned mortal Oni - Mountain Troll according to McGonagall – had left him bruised and annoyed. Hermione's statement that she had been in the bathroom when the Troll attacked and would have been dead without the timely intervention of the boys had created more questions than it had answered. Not the least of which was how six boys of different houses had known to look for her. The teachers had not been satisfied with their answer. The friendship between Neville and Hermione was well known and Nick had used that to explain their presence in the bathroom.

Professor Potter, convinced that Slytherin House was the root of all evil, immediately demanded to know why the Slytherin students were involved. Openly accusing them of being behind Hermione's presence in the bathroom. Hermione had promptly claimed all three Slytherin boys as her friends, and Neville had confessed to going to them with his concerns over his missing friend. Potter had then taken points "for sever lack of judgement." Points McGonagall had restored a few minutes later for "overlooking house differences to come to warn a fellow student of danger."

Potter Jr. had taken all the credit for slaying the thing, supposedly with accidental magic. His moronic father, was singing his praises for "a truly powerful cutting spell." Just to add insult to injury the Headmaster, egged on by Professor Potter, was hailing him as a hero and had given him an award for special services to the school.

Professor Snape had been mortified by their "Gryffindorish behavior." Although he'd been somewhat appeased by the fact that they'd gone after Hermione as a last resort and not in "an inane attempt at seeking glory by courting death." He'd even awarded them five points each as compensation for the "Indignity of putting up with Potter." Then promptly turned around and assigned all three of them, and Neville a week's worth of Detention for "failing to comply with Instructions," and "failing to remember the value of their lives."

Aggravating, but fair.

His own father would have praised his skill and loyalty to his Pack-mates before throttling him for stupidity, so he couldn't complain. At least Professor Snape had not taken a switch to his backside.

Neville's Granddame had arrived this afternoon and pulled Neville out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nick was convinced that Grandmother Longbottom was going to pull him out of Hogwarts as a result of his association with "undesirable people".

He'd only just reached the great hall when McGonagall called his name. He suppressed the urge to jump like a startled cat, and turned to acknowledge his Professor with a slight but respectful bow. "Professor?" He inquired. Noting the three students gathered around her. Hermione was chatting amicably with Blaise while Draco held himself somewhat aloof from the Young Ravenclaw. Clearly unsure about how to act around the Muggleborn girl he was coming to consider a pack-mate.

McGonagall's stern expression softened slightly at the sight. "Your presence is required in my office." She informed them before turning and heading off in the direction of the stairs.

Hyorimaru fell into step behind her. Head held high, chin set with stubborn defiance. He shot his friends a brief look and received guarded looks in response from Draco and Blaise. Hermione's soft shrug, added to his friend's tactically dismissive behavior told him that they were just as perplexed by this turn of events as he was.

"These are the children in question, Augusta." McGonagall, stated as she opened the door to her office revealing an elderly Lady in vulture hat. The woman was old and frail, however something in the old lady's bearing put him in mind of Lord Chōrō. He'd met the Former Lord of the North only once before his death. At the tender age of Five he'd found the old wolf to be cunning, wily and a dangerous advisory; for all Koga's aura should have diminished his by comparison. This human woman, Augusta, raised the hairs on his tail and the back of his neck as surely as any of the Four Lords. Here was a woman used to being in charge. A formidable and dangerous adversary worthy of his respect.

Manners had been drilled into him since his earliest days and he reacted without conscious thought. Raising his chin and adjusting the carriage of his tail, before gliding out from behind his professor on silent feet. He moved forward, exactly the distance protocol demanded and bowed slightly in respect.

"I Hyorimaru, Son of Seshomaru, Heir to the Western Lands greet you Lady Augusta of House Longbottom. Your presence honors me. How may I be of assistance to you in my Lord's absence?" He enquired straightening his back and presenting himself to her every inch the prince he was. He noted her surprise at his address and observed with pleasure that Blaise and Draco followed suit. Introducing themselves as was befitting the Young heirs of their respective houses.

((({ })))

Augusta watched the children file out of her old friend's office and suppressed a sigh. Those four had given her much to think about. It hadn't escaped her notice that three of them wore green and silver. Nickolas and Ronald Weasley had both been raised in very anti – Slytherin households, and she wondered if that was the whole reason the boy had named them undesirable as friends. Although the boy's letter had stated that those same friends had led her grandson into life threatening peril. She'd come to Hogwarts fully prepared to make her grandson sever ties with these four "dangerous influences" or see him safely home.

For all her grandson seemed to lack the courage of a mouse at times he was a good boy, and she had fully expected to leaved him at Hogwarts after a thorough lecture on propriety and the important of carefully selecting whom he deemed worthy of associating with. Therefore, it had come as quite the surprise when her normally mousy grandson had attempted to stand up to her over his friends.

She still wasn't sure how he'd convinced her to actually meet them.

Now that she had met them, she was unsure of what to do. None of the children had seemed like any kind of Bad influence. Young Hermione was typical of her house, bookish and smart, if a bit socially awkward. It was the boys who had truly surprised her. The House Zabini had always had purist views, however they had also always remained neutral in times of war. The Malfoy family was as steeped in the darker side of magic as the Black family, and unlike the Zabini's they had never been neutral. Yet the Malfoy heir had extended his hand in friendship to a muggle born girl child, in a completely different house. Then there was young Hyorimaru.

Neville had written to her about the boy's appearance at Hogwarts and his suspicions that he may have been Nickolas's long lost twin. She'd gotten no further word on the child since. Having met the Japanese child she could see why Neville had come to that conclusion, the child was the spitting image of James despite his green eyes. She'd have to talk to James about the boy. She decided, if the boy truly was Harry then James had to know. It was critical to determine exactly what to do with the child, who seemed happy with his adopted family. Had it been her own Neville. She didn't know what she would do. After all tearing the child away from a loving family, would be the height of cruelty. However, she would want to remain a part of his life.

She suppressed an unladylike noise of frustration and turned back to her old friend. "Nickolas, said those four led my grandson into peril?" she enquired.

"Despite the utter idiocy of the situation. You should be proud of your grandson." Minerva commented gravely. Then proceeded to tell her the tail.

((({})))

Neville glanced up as his grandmother entered the guest rooms the Headmaster had been kind enough to grant her, alarmed and a little curious as to how her meeting with his friends had gone. The stark white of her face did not bode well. She crossed the room in a few brisk strides and caught him up in her arms. Pressing him against her as if her very life depended on it.

"Promise me you won't ever put your life in danger like that again." She demanded, voice harsh with emotion.

Neville fidgeted, unused to such displays. "Gran," he whispered. "I am sorry I put myself at risk, but I am not sorry I helped Hermione."

"Nor should you be." She replied. "Your father would be proud. However we will be discussing this when you get home for the holidays."

He hesitated, needing to ask but afraid of the answer. One way or another, however, Hermione was right. His Gran was a better source of information on what his father would do or feel then a man who had disowned his son over the color of his tie. Hyori may have been a Slytherin, but he was already proving to be a better friend then Nickolas ever had been. Nick and Ron had not stopped bragging about "saving the Ravenclaw Know-it-all" since the incident with the troll had occurred. Hyori, Draco, and Blaise on the other hand, hadn't said a word. Rather they had quietly accepted the punishment their head of House had handed out as a result of their rule breaking. Draco and Blaise had barely even known her, yet they had gone with him to find a teacher or a prefect and when it had come down to it they had stood together to rescue Hyori's friend.

Those were the kind of friends he wanted.

Ones he could count on to always watch his back, and expect nothing in return.

Somehow he didn't think Nickolas was going to be that type of friend anytime soon.

"Gran?" he asked hesitantly. "Do you think Father would be mad at me for not making friends in my own house?"

She looked at him then, really looked at him. "Why do you ask?"

Slowly, he told her everything James had told him about his father.

"No," she replied after a moment. "Your father would likely have been concerned but he would trust you to make your own decisions. As I am. Your friends seem nice enough, and for now I will reserve judgement. Just don't do anything that stupid again."

Yes Gran," he whispered, leaning into her embrace. "Um… Gran?" he said after a moment's hesitation. "Professor Snape gave Hyori, Malfoy, Zabini and me detention for "Failing to remember the value of our lives.' If I don't leave now, I'm going to be late, and I do value my life."

((({ })))

Hyori shook out his hand almost wishing his head of house had taken a switch to his backside. It would have been kinder then making him write My life has value, and I will remember it. In English. For two hours. He grumbled quietly about the annoyance that was Nick Potter as he handed in his scroll and headed over to the door to wait with his friends. He'd noticed that Snape had actually given them enough time to walk Neville back to his dorm and return to their own without having to worry about curfew.

His attention peaked at the sound of Draco's name. Neville had never, to his knowledge, called Draco by his given name. That was an informality reserved for friends and close acquaintances. Despite having known each other for years, the three boys had never been close. It seemed that battling an Oni had changed their relationship somewhat.

He smirked, turned on his heel and started for the stairs listening to his friends chatter behind him.

((({ })))

Neville rolled his eyes as Nickolas practically squirmed in anticipation. Apparently his father had a 'surprise' for him this morning. Racing broom companies from around the world were sending out representatives so he could test fly some of their latest models. Among them were several models not even on the market. Hikarinotsurugi had declined to make the Sui Riu available. A slight that had resulted in a tantrum of epic proportions in the common room this morning. Before James managed to convince his son that the Japanese company "didn't realize what an honor they were passing up."

He grimaced in distaste at the unavoidable sight of Ronald shoveling food into his mouth with all the manners of a famished toddler. He glanced over at the Slytherin table, where his friends enjoyed their morning meal with superior decorum. Silently he considered his options before deciding that he really couldn't stand watching Ron eat. With a sigh he rose to his feet and left the table.

Silence fell as he timidly approached his friends and he flinched as the Slytherin's collective attention fell on him. Draco met his eyes and raised his chin ever so slightly while Hyori squared his shoulders and flashed him a look of mild encouragement. Blaise simply inclined his head fractionally at him.

He swallowed his misgivings and mimicked his friend's postures straightening his spine, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin in defiance and pride. "I a-apologize for the disruption." He said with only one false start. "But I simply cannot stand watching Weasley eat. Might I Join you?"

To his utter shock the Slytherin students made room for him. He smiled slightly, before schooling his expression to mirror the dignified neutrality of those seated around him. "Please pass the eggs," he requested as a place setting popped into place in front of him. A platter of eggs rose and floated over to him, easily directed by a second year student he didn't know. He thanked her politely before tucking into his meal with as much dignity as possible.

"Aside from Weasley's appalling table manners, how are things in Gryffindor house?" Hyorimaru enquired mildly, using a pair of beautifully wrought silver chopsticks to eat thin slivers of some sort of marbled, red meat.

Neville suppressed a shudder at the sight. He'd known Hyori had been raised by Japanese Demons, but watching him delicately eat meat that rare was still an unnerving experience. He focused on his friend's question rather than his strange culinary practices and ad to suppress a groan of frustration. "I don't know how much longer I can stand it." He confessed after a moment's hesitation. "Nick, keeps alternating between behaving like a braggart and unhappy toddler."

"I think I would rather be a Hufflepuff then share a dorm with that Prat." Draco commented after Neville had explained this morning's tantrum.

"Such behavior over a broom?" Flint commented from his place further down the table. "Everyone Knows Hikarinotsurugi makes the finest All Condition Racing Brooms. Still, he is nearly old enough to betroth. How does Lord Potter expect to find his son a good match, if the boy can't act his age? "

"So the press is coming to document the event." Hyorimaru commented mildly, the wicked smirk on his face belying his neutral tone. "How intriguing."

Blaise set down his fork, and swallowed his bite of eggs before addressing their friend. "Your expression does not bode well for Potter's continued health," he prompted.

Hyori's smile was practically predatory. "His health?" he enquired innocently. "Who can say? That being said, this event takes place Sunday before lunch. As it happens, I had Sensei Snape procure the use of the pitch tomorrow following breakfast so that I might determine which Hikarinotsurugi broom I shall use in competition." He leaned forward slightly and addressed Flint. "What do you think about holding an impromptu practice tomorrow after breakfast?"