Don't own JKR's characters and all of that jazz. I decided to put this fanfic up in installments of two this time around, because the first chapter was SO short and also, it just wasn't fair to leave you with such a cliffhanger, eh? Reviews, reviews, please!

........

Neville Longbottom woke with a start from nightmares that didn't often easily go away. He shivered slightly and rolled over, trying to get comfortable again, but it was no use. He sighed, listened to the heavy breathing of the rest of his dorm-mates and opened his curtains, exiting the bed. As he left the dorm, he decided that he didn't want to stick around to watch the dying embers of the common room fire. A thrill of fear raced up his spine as he crossed the common room's floor, hesitating by the portrait hole. Was a bit of nighttime restlessness worth possibly losing House points for Gryffindor? Getting detention? Running into (gulp) Snape?

Trembling, he thought no further on it, but pushed his way out of the common room, stirring the Fat Lady on his way out, who grumbled something none too kind at his retreating back. His nightmare had been horribly graphic, conjurations of his overactive imagination. So many times he had dreamed of You-Know-Who's servants torturing the very people that he missed most in his life. His parents. His fists balled in anger, fear leaving his pudgy face. He was nearly stalking down the corridors now. Neville abandoned this line of thought and instead, tried to think of where to go. He didn't want to risk running into the Potions professor (He shuddered to think what would happen if Professor Snape found him out at this hour!) or anyone else. He just wanted to be alone, take his mind off of the dreams. It was too obvious.

The kitchen. The house-elves would be more than happy to assist him with any snack he might want. He thought he vaguely remembered Fred or George telling Harry where the kitchen was located. Something about...tickling pears? With this in mind, he set off to look for the kitchen. It didn't take long for him to become hopelessly lost. There's no excuse for this, he thought angrily, I'm a sixth-year! I should know my way around by now. And yet, every door suddenly looked the same, the paintings and statues monotonous. Where was he? Neville thought he recalled taking a left at some point, or had it been a right? Or had he taken a left and a right both? He felt like he was walking in circles.

Suddenly, Neville didn't very much care to be at the kitchen. He was tired again, his limbs heavy and his eyelids fluttering. He just wanted to be back at the common room. Suddenly, the bed that had before seemed so confining seemed nice and friendly. And suddenly, Neville felt very stupid for having taken a risk at all. Just as he was about to start walking in the opposite direction to try to see if he got anywhere, a wind ruffled his hair and he felt his skin pebble with gooseflesh. It got very cold before everything seemed to still again. Standing before him was Harry Potter, looking a bit perplexed.

Neville was very surprised to see him at this time of night and...what was he doing fully dressed? Harry was not in nightclothes, like Neville was, but dressed in robes with...a badge on them? Neville took a step closer to Harry, frowning. Something was not right. Harry looked a bit taller and his glasses were odd. Not only that, but there was something different about his facial features. Neville was not the most observant, but people always commented on Harry's green eyes, "just like this mother's" and this Harry had distinctly hazel eyes. It was easy to see in the light from his wand. Why was Harry holding his wand poised in such a way, looking around with an expression like he was about to curse someone into oblivion? This would have been the most fire that Neville would have seen in him all year. Sixth year had seen Harry Potter to by moody and somewhat withdrawn. This Harry looked as if someone had just yanked him from a wizard's duel...and he was disappointed about it.

"Where is he?" Harry demanded, eyes barely meeting Neville's as he looked around, brow crinkling slightly.

"W-Who?" Neville stammered, looking cautiously over his shoulder, suddenly feeling very paranoid. He shouldn't have gotten up at all. He opened his mouth to question Harry, about to ask questions about, well, his eye color for one. Was it some sort of prank from Zonko's? It didn't sound like Harry to do that sort of thing, though.

"Snivelly."

"What?" Neville asked, "Harry, maybe you should go to bed. It is kind of late and well..." He had just read what was on Harry's badge. It read 'Head Boy'. Neville looked up into the no longer green eyes of Harry Potter and gave him a very odd look. He was somewhat surprised to see the look returned.

"What did you call me?" Harry asked slowly.

"Harry, Harry."

"I don't know where you got that from, mate." Harry, er, well...whoever, said, shaking his head, "James Potter. Captain of the Quidditch team? Head-?"

Neville stopped the boy halfway through his speech. Har—er, James, had been speaking slowly, as if Neville were some sort of loony. It was clear that everyone knew who he was, or at least, that's what he thought until this very moment. It took a moment for it all to click in Neville's mind. James? James POTTER? Neville gawked at him for a moment before shaking his head slowly, in nearly perfect imitation of what this Harry had done before.

"Harry, maybe you really should get some sleep. Or, better yet, we could take you to Madame Pomfrey. She'll know what to do." Neville was becoming scared. Sure, Harry had been through some bad stuff in his lifetime, but Neville had always thought of him as sane. It never occurred to him that his friend might one day...crack. I mean, to walk around in the middle of the night and claim to be your long-dead father? But it was kind of weird. The eyes, the badge and all.

Harry looked like he was about to respond, but Mrs. Norris appeared in front of them, taking them in with her lamp-like eyes, before disappearing to find Filch. Neville gasped slightly and tugged on Harry's robes to pull him forward, away from the trouble, but Harry was quicker. He snatched Neville into the room nearby. Neville frowned slightly. He hadn't thought there was a door there a moment before...

"Harry, where are we?" He whispered. It was dark and he found himself wishing for light. Suddenly, the room was lit with the fire from a fireplace that hadn't been there a moment before. Neville blinked, thoroughly spooked.

"Blimey, would you not call me that?" Harry asked irritably, "James. James Potter. I-"

He stopped and frowned, taking in the colors of the pajamas that Neville sported. Neville found himself blushing slightly, but a moment later, realized Harry's purpose.

"Red and gold. Gryffindor." Harry said. Neville looked at him as if he were loony again, "Then I should have met you before." Harry began to pace as Neville watched him nervously. He was tempted to dart out of the room and fetch Madame Pomfrey. Harry and I have been in Gryffindor together since first year...He really must be out of his mind.

"Is this about--?" But he didn't get to finish his question before Harry began muttering aloud.

"The last thing I remember is that git hexing me..." Neville nearly sighed with relief at this proclamation.

"Oh good! Then your memory should be back soon." He exclaimed, "I thought that you had gone mad." He laughed slightly nervously, watching Harry's expression. Dawning comprehension was filling out the boy's features.

"Mrs. Norris looked scrawnier and...old. There is someone around my age that does not know who I am and thinks I'm a loony." Harry muttered and stopped, fixing Neville with an intense look, "What year is this?"

Neville told him.

"Bloody HECK!" Harry bellowed. But a calculating look came over his face after that initial reaction. Neville watched him, at loss for what to do. In his mind, Harry had obviously lost his memory or was disillusioned from a wizard's duel. When Harry turned to Neville again, Neville had almost decided on a particular course of action.

"Is Dumbledore still Headmaster?" Harry asked finally.

"You must be worse than I thought!"

"So, yes?" Harry asked with an edge of impatience. It was clear that he didn't think too much of Neville's mental capacity.

"Erm, yes." At Neville's admission, Harry strode off through the door, leaving Neville alone and foolish in the strange little room. Maybe I should follow him, just to make sure he's alright...But by the time Neville opened the door, Harry was out of sight.