“What's wrong, Nev?” Harry asked tentatively. He didn't want to be nosy, but he could tell that something was bothering his shy friend.
Neville opened his mouth, but instead of speaking the boy just licked his lips. Finally, Neville looked sideways. Harry's eyes followed the other’s gaze to find that Neville was looking at his newest acquisition, a Desert Rose.
“Something wrong with the flower? It was too cold for it on the way from Hogsmeade?” Harry tried.
Neville shook his head mutely.
Harry felt like a total pushover, but tried once more. “Nev, what's that? I'll try to help you.”
“Thanks, Harry,” the other boy looked humbly grateful that someone cared. The expression made Harry to feel guilty. He had always liked Neville, but he had tendency to overlook him, just like everyone else seemed to do.
“My Grandma…. she…. she doesn't look good.”
Harry remembered the old witch on the platform 9 and 3/4 . He guessed she was as old as McGonagall. He didn't think that women old like that were supposed to look good.
“Er- what do you mean?” He asked finally.
“She looks really ill, and has bags under her eyes as if she hasn't been sleeping… She looks so weak, she even doesn't order everyone around anymore.” Neville seemed to fight tears.
Something occurred to Harry. “But Neville, when did you see her? You didn't say anything after Christmas.”
His friend leaned forward and whispered, even though they were alone in the dormitory. “Nobody's supposed to know. McGonagalll took me to the St. Mungo’s last Saturday.”
“Last Saturday you spent with us,” Harry reminded him. “We went to Hogsmeade.”
“I wasn't in Hogsmeade,” Neville insisted.
“You bought heaps of sweets and this flower,” Harry objected with a hint of uncertainty. Then he remembered his third year. “Did you have a time-turner?”
Neville shook his head. “No. Someone else was with you, looking like me. Polyjuiced, probably.”
“But who?”
“I don't know,” Neville shrugged.
He didn't seem so interested in knowing the person's identity as Harry was. It scared Harry how easily they all could have gotten killed, had the imposter been hostile. They certainly wouldn't have expected their good old Neville to attack, so they would be unprepared.
“You could have warned us,” Harry rebuked him. Then he joked, not knowing if he was trying raising Neville's spirits or shake off his own fear. “What if we did something forbidden? Buried Malfoy deep in snow, thrown Goyle into the stream, or some such?”
“I didn't know in advance. I just went to St. Mungos, and thought you would go to the village without me.” Neville explained honestly. “The flowers and sweets were waiting for me in McGonagall's office. I even didn't have to pay for them.”
It was probably right assumption, Harry guessed. They would have waited for Neville in front of the Great Hall, and maybe they would have went to check the dorms, but if they wouldn't have found him, they would have left to the village thinking Neville decided to stay in greenhouses of something like that. They certainly wouldn't have sent a search party. Again, Harry felt guilty that they didn't pay more attention to Neville. If they had, they would have noticed something odd about him in Hogsmeade.
Chapter 3