Chapter Thirteen – Grandfather Clocks

"Mister Finnegan!" Professor McGonagall said shrilly. "Please pay attention. If you don't, you may find that I'm not too helpful if you are transfigured incorrectly."

Neville, along with the rest of the class tried not to snigger too loudly. Transfiguration was becoming one of Neville's most grueling classes. Today they were working on transfiguring a partner into very plain grandfather clocks. They were starting with big items, items close in size to the human body. By the end of the year, they should be able to transfigure someone into a matchbook if they so desired.

"Now everyone get a partner," Professor McGonagall instructed. As had been the custom since Ron and Hermione started dating, Harry looked over at Ron, who had already partnered up with Hermione. Then Harry would catch Neville's eye and they would be partners.

"Extra points if you can transfigure readable numbers on the face of the clock. Even more points if you can get the grandfather clock to chime," Professor McGonagall told the class.

"You want to go first?" Neville asked. To be honest, he was slightly nervous at the thought of becoming a grandfather clock. They had never done complete transformations before. It had only been various parts of their body. He wanted to get this first time over with.

"Sure," Harry said in a slightly shaky voice. "Let's go."

Neville closed his eyes while Harry performed the tricky wand movement. It took a few moments, but Neville felt his body stiffening. He briefly tried to move his arms, but they were stuck next to his side.

He couldn't quite explain how he knew it, but he knew the transfiguration was complete. A sudden wave of panic washed over him. He couldn't see. Everything was black around him. He couldn't hear anything either. There was only silence and nothingness around him. If he could speak, he knew he would practically be in tears.

After what Neville thought was a few minutes, but had no idea no way of knowing, his sight and hearing came slowly back to him. His body relaxed, and he was down on all fours, getting sick on the floor.

Harry handed him a glass of water, which he accepted gratefully. Neville looked around and saw that everyone who had been transfigured looked slightly green, and there were quite a few messes on the floor.

"Are you okay, mate?" Harry asked, as Neville hurried to clean up the mess he left.

"That was awful," Neville whispered.

Hermione had her hand raised high in the air. "Professor?" she asked. "Is that the reaction every time someone if transfigured completely?"

"No, Miss Granger," McGonagall said. "By the end of the year, you will be used to the feeling and it will no longer make you ill. I never tell my students the effects of the first time because no one would ever want to be transfigured."

"Got that right," Ron muttered, clutching his stomach. To Hermione, he asked, "Did I chime?"

"Ready, Harry?" Neville asked.

Harry looked at Neville apprehensively. "Now or never."

Harry took his glasses off and faced Neville. He closed his eyes, just like Neville had done. Neville looked again at the blackboard, glancing at the wand movement. There was no incantation.

He pictured the grandfather clock in his grandmother's living room. Concentrating on that clock with all his might, he flicked his wrist. Slowly, Harry turned into the clock. When the transfiguration was complete, Neville looked over his work.

"Very good, Mister Longbottom," McGonagall said. She moved the hands of the clock so that it would chime very soon. Fifteen seconds later, the clock chimed three times. "Full marks plus ten extra points."

Neville tapped the clock, and less than a minute later, Harry was back to normal, and cleaning up the mess he made. Class ended soon after that, and they headed towards the Great Hall for dinner.

"That's awful," Harry said. "There's nothingness."

Hermione, who looked very green, said, "I suppose we'll get used to it."

"I don't know why any one would want to," Ron grumbled.

"It's supposed to be very handy for work as an Auror," Hermione said.

"Are you still thinking about that, then?" Neville asked.

Ron nodded proudly. "I already have my application. Harry and I are going to go in together."

Neville noticed that Hermione was quiet. He supposed that Hermione wasn't thrilled in Ron's career choice; after all, being an Auror was very dangerous work.

"What are you going to do?" Neville asked Hermione. She looked grateful at the question.

"I'm honestly not sure yet," Hermione answered. "I'll probably end up apply for a dozen jobs or so and see where that leads me."

Luna showed up to the table then and sat down next to Neville. "How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked kindly.

"I'm better," Harry asked. "I wish this limp would go away. Madam Pomfrey can't figure out what's wrong."

"I can't believe you're not officially reporting Crabbe and Goyle," Hermione said, bristling slightly. "They should be expelled."

"That would be great, love," Ron said sarcastically. "Run them off straight to the Death Eaters, instead of keeping them here at Hogwarts where we can keep an eye on them."

"I hadn't thought of that," Hermione admitted.

Luna was staring at the Slytherin table. "Do you think any of their fathers have the Imperius Curse on them?"

"I doubt it," Harry said bitterly. "They know what they're doing."

"Maybe," Luna said. "Anyways, Daddy wrote me and said that Fudge might be forced into retirement soon. Apparently, some of the Goblins that he's been trying to kill have some very unflattering information on him. A little bit of blackmail goes quite a long way."

"That's interesting," Hermione said, in a slightly strained voice. "How does your father know that?"

"Daddy never reveals his secrets," Luna said, nodding her head. "If a source couldn't trust him, Daddy would never get any stories at all."

"Of course," Hermione said, nodding just as sagely. Neville gave her a look to make her leave Luna alone. He realized that Hermione didn't understand Luna and her beliefs all that much. Hermione needed to read something in a book to believe it, and Luna simply believed in all kinds of things.

Neville and Luna took a walk after dinner, before they needed to split up and do homework. Then Harry and Neville stayed up later than everyone, practicing transfiguration. Harry hadn't been able to make distinguishing markings on the grandfather clock, and had been assigned extra homework. Professor McGonagall was right though; the horrible feeling did get better each time he was transfigured.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the window. "What's that?" Neville asked.

"I think it's an owl," Harry said, walking to the window.

Neville looked at the window, and recognized the owl. "That's my gran's owl," Neville said nervously. A sinking feeling entered his stomach. What could be so important that had to be delivered now, and not at breakfast?

He went to the window and untied the letter from the owl's leg. His thoughts went straight to his parents. "Please don't be dead, please don't be dead," he thought over and over.

Harry was watching Neville carefully. Neville sat down on the couch, took a deep breath and unrolled the parchment. His eyes scanned the letter. And then scanned it twice, because he didn't quite believe what he had just read.

"Is everything all right?" Harry asked quietly.

Neville found himself blinking back tears. "My mum spoke tonight," he said, choked up a bit. "She said 'Frank,' and 'water.'"

"She's never spoken?" Harry asked.

Neville shook his head. "She's never said a word since that…that night," he said. "She hugged me over the summer. Harry, I think she's getting better."

"Neville, that's great!" Harry said, beaming.

"I wonder if she'll say my name," Neville said, wiping the tear that had fallen down his cheek. He thought, at first, he would feel foolish crying in front of Harry, but they were such good friends at that point, that he didn't feel foolish at all. "I would do anything to hear my mum say my name."

Neville read the letter for the third time. "Gran says not to get my hopes up," Neville said, showing the letter to Harry. "She wants to remind me that it took sixteen years to say two words."

"That's not very nice," Harry said.

"That's Gran for you," Neville said, shaking his head. "She's right though. My mum may never get any better than this."

"But isn't the important thing she's getting better?" Harry demanded. "Neville, if she said water, there's a whole lot of words probably waiting to be said. Who knows what could happen in a few years?"

"Thanks, Harry," Neville said gratefully. "I don't think I can be turned into a clock again. Can we call it a night?"

Harry nodded, and the two boys went upstairs to their dorm room. Neville secured the curtains around his bed tightly. After a few minutes, he heard Harry's snores added into the mix of sounds from the room. But Neville stayed up for who knows how long, reading and rereading the letter.

Neville started carrying the letter in his robe, next to the picture of him as a baby with his parents. He wrote his grandmother the next day, demanding every single detail she could give him. Now Neville couldn't wait for Christmas break, which was still six weeks away. He couldn't wait to see his parents.

That weekend brought another quidditch game, this time between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Luna wore her huge Eagle's nest hat and sat with the rest of Ravenclaw. Neville, however, stood his ground this year, and refused to support any team other than Gryffindor. So Neville was sitting with the rest of Gryffindor, cheering every time Slytherin was called for a plenty or missed a shot.

88888

The Slytherin team changed a bit from last year. Malfoy was no longer on the team and his position was taken over by Theodore Nott. Millicent Bulstrode, who Neville never realized could play quidditch, was on the team, playing Beater. And Neville had to admit, she was quite good. Crabbe, who had been a Beater last year, was now the Keeper. It was not a good position for him, because it required him to move quickly to defend the hoops.

Harry and Ginny spent the most of the match huddled over a sheet of parchment. They were trying to find Ravenclaw and Slytherin's weakness for when they played them next term. Every time a Chaser missed a shot, or Crabbe let the quaffle by him, it was written on the parchment.

Much to Luna's disappointment, Slytherin won, two hundred to one hundred and fifty. It wasn't the biggest lost, so Ravenclaw was still in the thick of the race.

A few days later, Neville was at breakfast with the rest of his friends. Luna joined them just as the mail arrived.

"No Draco this morning?" Neville asked.

"He never came down," Luna said worriedly.

There were small shrieks, suddenly around the Great Hall. "What's happened?" Harry asked quickly.

Hermione laid the Daily Prophet on the table in front of them. Neville quickly scanned the headline.

Death Eaters attack Diagon Alley!

Hermione picked up the paper and read it quickly. "There was an explosion at Madam Malkin's. It doesn't say if anyone was killed or not."

"I really don't like this waiting and finding out everything after the fact," Ginny mumbled.

"No one does," Neville said. "If it doesn't say, maybe no one was killed."

"That would be a nice change," Harry said. The bell rang, making everyone go to class.

That night, Neville and Luna decided to study in the Greenhouse, away from everyone else. After word of that attack, he just really wanted to spend time with Luna. For almost an hour, they worked on their homework in silence. Neville finished first, and took out the application for St. Mungos' Healer Training Program.

The first two pages were simple, name and address and so forth. Neville saw that he had to get three recommendations, write four different essays and take a test at the end of March.

"Four essays!" Neville moaned, showing Luna the application.

"Who will you get recommendations from?" Luna asked interestedly.

"Professor Sprout, definitely," Neville answered promptly. "Maybe McGonagall. I don't know who else."

"What about Snape?" Luna asked. "He could write about your research for the potion."

"I can't imagine that Snape would write me a good recommendation," Neville said, shaking his head. "I melted too many cauldrons over the year."

"It never hurts to ask," Luna said. "When the time comes, I'll probably ask Snape for one. Potions is one of my best subjects."

"Maybe," Neville said thoughtfully. "He didn't show up for our potion session yesterday."

"He didn't teach yesterday, either," Luna said. "Potions was a free period."

"Maybe he was fighting with the Death Eaters," Neville said. "He must have been."

"That must be hard for him, having to fight against the people you're really working with," Luna said, letting her head rest of Neville's shoulder. She pushed her books away and put her arms around Neville's midsection.

Neville tossed the application aside, and kissed Luna hard on the lips. She backed away for just a moment to place a locking charm on the Greenhouse, and then kissed him right back.

"We should do homework here everyday," Neville muttered between kisses. They kissed happily for a while, but a sudden pounding broke them apart.

"Not Sprout again," Neville moaned.

"I don't think it is," Luna said, readjusting her clothes. "Listen."

It certainly wasn't Professor Sprout. Someone was banging on the door so hard that the glass was shaking. Neville stood up and to his amazement, Draco Malfoy was on the other side of the glass.

"Longbottom! Luna! Open up!" he shouted. He looked incredibly upset about something.

Neville helped Luna up off of the ground. He couldn't help but put his arm around Luna's waist as she opened up the door with her wand. Draco came tumbling inside.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Neville asked quietly.

"You fight with Potter, right?" Draco asked quickly.

"What?" Luna asked.

"Don't you? You're working with Potter? To defeat the Dark Lord?" Draco said, his words practically spilling over each other.

"To defeat you-know-who, Malfoy," Neville said. "We don't consider him the Dark Lord."

"Fine. You-know-who," Malfoy spat. "You're fighting him, right?"

"We're trying to," Luna said, her head held high. "Why?"

"I want to help," Draco said earnestly. "I want in."

88888

A/N - Thank you to those of you who pointed out that I didn't use the right form of Impostor. It's been fixed now. : )