Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. I'm only playing with JK Rowling's characters.
When Neville woke up his head was pounding fiercely. He slowly opened his eyes, only to find himself looking up to a tall rather odd looking boy his age.
"Are you alright?" the boy questioned. "You look like you hit your head pretty hard."
"Oh, yes I'll be fine," Neville reassured him in confusion. "So…um…who are you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry I assumed you'd recognize the head boy," he said.
"Y-You're not the head boy, Harry is," Neville stammered.
"Harry? No, I can assure you, I, Albus Dumbledore am head boy!"
"Pro-Professor Dumbledore?" Now Neville was really at a loss. His head was swimming. Why was this boy pretending to be the headmaster?
"Albus," a girl's voice called, "What are you doing by the charms classroom, we have defense in three minutes. We have to hurry or we'll be late, again! You can just image what old Diggle would have to say about that."
"Why hello Poppy, I was just helping ur…"
"Neville"
"Yes, Neville here, you see I think he fell and hit his head."
"Oh, well in that case we'd better help him to the infirmary then hadn't we? Honestly Albus what have you been doing to this poor boy? What if he has a concussion or something? You have no common sense! Look at that nasty gash on his head, and he's gone right pale. I may be taking healing class, but even I don't have a clue what to do for him."
"Sorry," Albus mumbled. "Here let me give you a hand," he said to Neville.
"Oh thanks," Neville replied, and then turning to the girl, Neville dazedly informed her, "You look like Madame Pomfrey."
"Well I am Miss Pomfrey, after all. Of course I look like my mum. I have to wonder, though just how you know her."
"Poppy, come on I thought we were taking him to the nurse," an impatient Dumbledore interrupted. "You can chat all you wish later. After all, I thought it was you who was so adamant about getting him up to the infirmary."
Neville never heard him, though for soon after his last words he felt thee world around him fade away, as he passed out again.
"Oh dear," Miss Pomfrey sighed, as Albus cast a spell to levitate the poor confused boy to the infirmary.
"I've never seen the boy before…not a student…foreign school."
"No…seems familiar…know soon."
Neville heard vague voices before finally succumbing to the light of day. Looking around, he realized that he was in the infirmary. He'd been there enough times due to accidents being on the wrong side of a miss-fired charm.
"Ah, and so he awakens," the soft voice of an old woman calls, but as Neville sees her, he realizes that this is a different Matron.
"Where's Madame Pomfrey," he asks, "I had the strangest dream about the headmaster saying he was the head boy, and this girl who wouldn't stop talking and scolding, scolding Albus Dumbledore! The greatest wizard of our time!"
"Oh dear, I knew something was wrong, but I had hoped not this…Alas it seems you have lost your memory. Albus, the greatest wizard of our time! Now that is a joke worth remembering son. Labeling the biggest trouble-maker Hogwarts has seen in decades the greatest wizard of our time, the young," the nurse tutted.
"What? You-you must be mistaken Madame. Please I…Professor Dumbledore, he'll tell us." Neville pleaded.
"Dear, Albus Dumbledore is a seventh year student, and most assuredly NOT a professor. The same goes for Poppy Pomfrey. The only Madame here is I, Madame Tame. Now perhaps you should rest and when you awake the world will make sense dear, and these silly notions of yours will fade.'
"Madame Tame, I-I'm sorry, but I'm confused. It's just nothing is the way it's supposed to be. This is going to sound crazy, but I once heard my Gran taking about time turners, and well if Professor Dumbledore is a student, then maybe I've…well…What year is it Madame?"
"Well dear it's…"