Harry shifted uncomfortably yet again – he was sitting on a cold, hard, stone bench just outside the hospital wing with Hermione, clutching a mountain of chocolate frogs in his arms – As soon as he'd gotten to the common room, he'd sent Hedwig to Hogsmeade with the order, and gone straight to the hospital wing, hoping to check on Neville. Unfortunately, there had been no update for the past several hours.

Ron came running up the stairs, wiping his mouth.

"Any sign yet?"

"I'm not telling you," Hermione said, with a sarcastically raised eyebrow, "As you elected to go downstairs and stuff your face."

"Well, I'm sorry!" Ron retorted hotly, about to launch into another row, but at the downcast look on Harry's face he stopped himself.

"Look, Hermione, why don't you get some dinner," Ron said, "We'll take it in turns."

Hermione seemed loathe to leave Harry, but at the same time, Harry could tell that she was probably starving...She'd been sitting here all afternoon. She, Harry, Ron, and the Quidditch team had wanted to get in to visit Neville, but Madame Pomfrey, outraged at the notion, had shooed them all out into the hallway.

"He's in a [I]very[/I] delicate state!" Madame Pomfrey had said sternly, "You can drown him in sugar later!"

"I hope there is a later," Harry thought miserably, one of the chocolate frogs falling out of his arms. He leaned over to pick it up instinctively, and the rest fell to the ground.

Harry cursed half-heartedly, and knelt down to pick the rest of them up.

"Here, let me help," Ron said, "Put them in my schoolbag."

Hermione knelt down to help as well.

"You should really go down and get something to eat," Harry said, "We'll be fine up here. Nothing's likely to change in the next five minutes."

"Five minutes?" Hermione asked, teasingly nudging Harry's shoulder, "Is that all I get?"

"That's all you [I]need[/I]!" Ron said, winking at Harry, "We've seen you eat!"

Harry laughed weakly as Hermione gave Ron a smart thwack in the back of the head, but he felt even weaker at seeing her signature smile...

"I'll be back in five minutes," she said, still smirking slightly. She put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and seemed about to say something.

"I'll be fine," Harry said, "Go on."

She sighed quietly, and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek before she left, but Harry couldn't even bring himself to feel embarrassed, or excited, or guilty. He was so wrought up about Neville.

"Oi, where's mine?" Ron asked, as she walked down the stone corridor.

"Have to earn one," she called over her shoulder.

For a moment the two were quiet, as they gathered up the chocolate frogs.

"So...have they said anything?" Ron asked.

"About...you mean here? About Neville?"

"Yeah, about how he's doing...or about what happened."

Harry was a bit taken aback. "I thought Dumbledore would have explained everything when dinner started."

"Well," Ron continued, pausing thoughtfully in his frog-collecting, "All he said was that Neville got hurt during the Dementor attack, and that he'd tell us more when they knew more. That was pretty much it."

"He doesn't want to scare them," Harry said darkly, "He's telling them the truth, but not the whole truth."

"He may just want to get his facts straight," Ron said, uncomfortably torn between defending the Headmaster, and not upsetting Harry. There was a slight pause as they finished collecting the last of the scattered frog boxes.

"Harry," Ron asked, concern etched across his brow, "What exactly [I]did[/I] happen?"

Harry sighed, and related the entire series of events to Ron.

"You mean [I]Neville?[/I]" Ron asked, his eyes wide, "It had to have been the Imperius Curse! That's an Unforgiveable Curse, whoever put it on him is—"

"It wasn't," Harry said, weary from having to explain. Hermione had always been two steps ahead of him – he couldn't tell the story fast enough for her.

"It was Nott," said Harry, "He somehow got a hold of a Polyjuice Snackbox, and disguised himself as Neville. The dementors were just a diversion – they were after my Secret Keeper, and then they were going to come after me that night, if they could."

Ron had turned pale, "So they thought Neville—"

Harry held a finger up to his lips. It was dangerous to talk about Secret Keepers out in the open like this – even though he didn't see anyone there, you never knew who might overhear.

Ron stood slowly, his knees creaking a bit, and sat back down on the stone bench.

"Blimey," he said, "Are they sure it was a Snackbox?"

"They found the other half and another whole one in his pocket...along with a scrap of paper that had the Gryffindor password on it."

Ron's eyes went wide, "So that means a Gryffindor must have given it to him!"

Harry's brow furrowed. He didn't think anyone in Gryffindor would give the password to a Death Eater – why would they be put in Gryffindor, then?

Then again, maybe betrayal wasn't the sole property of Slytherin – after all, his dad, Sirius, and Lupin had been friends with Peter Pettigrew – and he didn't think they'd make friends with a Slytherin.

"So Peter Pettigrew must have been in Gryffindor," Harry reasoned with himself.

"Unless," said a quiet voice tickling at the back of his mind, "Unless..."

Harry pushed the thought out of his head. They [I]all[/I] were in Gryffindor...they had to be.

"Nobody in Gryffindor would give the password to a Death Eater," Harry repeated out loud.

"But they wouldn't," Ron said, "They'd be giving it to...I dunno, Neville, or...whoever's hair they could get."

Harry was suddenly jarred by the thought – how long had Death Eaters been slipping in and out of the school unnoticed?

"Besides," Ron said, "I know Fred and George wouldn't sell the Snackboxes to anyone who wasn't in the Order...not even you or me. So someone must have been using the Polyjuice to get them...in...the first place?" he trailed off.

"That makes no sense," Harry said aloud, "Because they'd have to already have the Snackbox to get the Snackboxes."

"They might have used the regular potion," Ron added.

Harry shrugged, "I suppose it's possible...but they'd have to [I]sound[/I] like someone in the Order as well...to buy something they'd have to tell Fred and George what they want...and have to sound like themselves, and act as though they knew them...And where would they hide the [I]real[/I] member of the Order?"

"Right," Ron said pensievely, "But look at that Crouch fellow from our fourth year...he managed it all year."

Harry felt discomforted by this. Who could he trust? Anybody, everybody could really be someone else, under their skin...He suddenly understood a whole new level of the terror that had run rampant during Voldemort's first rise to power.

"Well, then let's say that wasn't it," Ron said, "How else would they get a hold of all of it? The password, the Snackbox, the uniform..."

Harry racked his brains, "The uniform! The Slytherin uniform...maybe they only used it because they couldn't get a Gryffindor uniform..."

Ron wrinkled his nose, "How did they get into the school, anyway?"

"The Shrieking Shack," Harry said distractedly, still trying to puzzle how they got the password and the uniform, "Pettigrew could have told them about it."

"No," Ron said, "I mean, did he sneak in as a Death Eater? If it was the first time he was in the school, he wouldn't have Neville's hair yet..."

They heard Hermione's footsteps echoing on the stone stairway as she huffed her way up the steps.

"Five minutes on the dot," Ron muttered under his breath, "And I get smacked in the head for telling the truth. There's no justice, mate."

Harry forced a grin, but his mind was still racing...maybe Hermione would be able to figure it out.

"Have a nice meal?" Ron asked wryly, "Can you remember what it was?"

"Listen," Hermione said urgently, still trying to catch her breath, "I've been thinking about it – the Slytherin uniform – it had to have come from Slytherin..."

"You don't say?" Ron said sarcastically.

"I [I]mean[/I]," Hermione said, "Someone in Slytherin must have given it to the Death Eaters!"

They were quiet for a moment.

"They could have just nicked it," Ron said hesitantly.

"How?" Hermione said, clearly having already thought this out.

"With the Polyjuice!"

"They couldn't use the Polyjuice yet - they needed the uniform to sneak into the school in the first place."

They thought this over.

"This is one of those sequence...things," Ron said, "They had to have the uniform to use the Polyjuice...and they had to have the Polyjuice to get into the school..."

"So first, they got the Polyjuice Snackbox," Hermione said counting off on her fingers, "Then, they got the uniform...Now they needed..."

"The Gryffindor password," Ron added excitedly.

"And a hair," Harry said, "Or a fingernail, or whatnot. They'd have to enter the school already disguised. But they wouldn't be able to get a student's hair until they were already inside the school..."

"Maybe whoever gave them the uniform also gave them a hair," Hermione said, frowning.

"[I]And[/I] the Gryffindor password?" Ron asked, befuddled.

"But how would a Gryffindor have access to a Slytherin uniform?" Hermione said, helplessly rubbing her forehead.

"And how would a Slytherin have the Gryffindor passw—"

But Harry froze.

"It's him."

"Who?" Hermione asked urgently.

"Come on!" Harry shouted, already running off.

"But what about –" Ron said, pointing at the door.

"[I]Come on![/I]" Harry shouted, nearly rounding the corner.

Ron hurriedly upended his school bag, and shook the chocolate frogs out onto the bench, before he and Hermione began running after Harry.

Seeing they were following, Harry turned about and began to run towards the Headmaster's office.

He was saved the trip as he ran smack dab into the Headmaster himself.