Neville stepped through the green flames, speaking, loud and clear, "Diagon Alley"
Using floo powder was a strange sensation, like falling through the chimneys as if they were connected. It was warm, it was fast and it left him covered in soot. Some fell when they came to a sudden stop in the fireplace they wished but Neville had used the floo network more often than he could count, he landed on his feet with ease. He dusted off the dust, which now actually was there. When his hands were black still, he frowned. Messy. He didn't like messy. He was about to take out his wand when-
"Let me get that, scourgify!" Algie pointed his wand at Neville and soapy bubbles cleaned off all the soot on his hands and robes. It was fast and far reaching. Neville himself would've needed multiple castings to cover all of the body but Algie cleaned it all with one spell. This was the difference between a student and a learned and old wizard. Age had a lot to do with how powerful a wizard or witch was. Magical power continues to grow way past the time that the body grows. It was a hot topic what age one stopped growing, it seemed to vary from person to person, though most agreed that there was no growth past the age of sixty. Some set the end even earlier but that was irrelevant. It wasn't just raw power that mattered however, knowledge and practice played big parts too. The reason that Aurors in their 20's could keep up with dark wizards in their 50's was because Aurors trained, they learned more magic which others didn't even know about. Practice made perfect.
The older you were, the more time you have had to hone yourself… in theory that is. Most wizards became lazy fast. They stagnated, a dreadful mistake.
Never, he vowed, he would not die a fat and lazy man, no, he would rise and rise, until there was no more room to grow. Once he had reached the pinnacle and stood with legends like Grindelwald and Dumbledore, then and only then could he consider resting… though maybe a little break for romance would be allowed. Power wasn't everything after all.
"Thanks uncle Algie" Neville smiled and was about to follow him when he heard a voice.
"Neville? Good to see you mate"
He turned around and saw Harry Potter. A boy his own age, with hair that was always in desperate need of a haircut or at least some brushing, vibrant green eyes behind his round, copper rimmed glasses and he was sitting in the leaky cauldron, eating some soup.
"Good to see you too, Harry. Harry, this is my great uncle Algie, uncle, this is Harry Potter"
"Harry Potter, truly?" Algie's eyes went wide, his gaze travelling to the messy hair covering the boy's scar.
"I don't think Harry appreciates being stared at"
"Wha-? Yes- alright… why don't you two catch up whilst I do some shopping?"
"Sounds good", Neville sat down besides the boy who lived, "so, what kind of soup is that?"
It didn't look like anything he knew. There was bits of red meat inside, potatoes too and also… chickens feet?
"A house special", Tom the barkeep told him, "it is being served like this for several hundred years. Legend says a child of one of the owners dubbed it the 'soup soup soup'. The recipe is a closely guarded secret. It is one of our best sellers. Do you want anything, lad?"
"Just a butterbeer"
"Coming right up"
"So… why are you here and not with your family?"
"Well, it was something like this…" Harry told him everything, of Marge's comments, his anger, the magic, his escape and even the minister's visit. It seemed to be the same as in canon, no major deviations for now, "can you believe it? They threatened to expel me for underaged magic last year and suddenly they just let it go?"
"It is… strange to say the least"
Of course, it was because of Sirius Black but he couldn't very well say that, now could he? People would ask questions. About how he knew that, about what else he knew. No matter, he'd find out soon anyway. It was only a matter of time, no need to tell him.
Tom handed Neville a butterbeer, which he sipped from. A nice warmth spread through his limbs. In cold weather, it'd taste even better, he knew but in the warmth it tasted good too.
"Have you got any idea how to read the monster book of monsters? When I tried to read it, it almost ate me alive"
Ah- yes, the monster book of monsters. The pristine book held a hidden savageness but once you knew how to open it, it was actually a good read, "just stroke its spine and it'll turn harmless"
"Really? Who designed it like that? How are we supposed to know that?"
Neville shrugged, taking another sip.
"You seem more… confident", Harry observed, "you don't hesitate when talking like you used to. You sit up straighter than normal too"
How observant… Harry might not be a bookworm like Hermione or Neville but he was smart in another way, a more quiet intelligence which kept hidden until it was needed. It didn't help him with exams but in day to day life, it was invaluable.
"Puberty changed people", and a heavy case of reincarnation didn't hurt either.
"Good for you, maybe now Draco won't walk over you anymore"
"Let him try", Neville smirked. He had been reading up on combat magic. The full body bind curse, the shocking jinx, the dancing hex, the leg lock curse. He would appreciate an occasion to try them out.
That moment, uncle Algie returned, a few bags in hand, "come Neville, we have to get back before the next meal starts or Augusta will have my head"
"Coming uncle. See you at school, Harry"
"Yeah, see you there, Neville"