Chapter 5: Searchin'

Professor Dumbledore was very concerned with the news from Professor McGonagall. After last year's situation with the Sorcerer's Stone and the reemergence of Voldemort, even if it was a non-corporeal form, he was very sensitive to anything outside the ordinary, at least ordinary by Hogwart's standards.

"Do you think it has anything to do with he who should not be named?" asked Professor McGonagll?

"Alas, we cannot rule out any possibilities, Minerva. We must start a search immediately. But I do not want to alarm the school, yet. Hopefully, it will prove to be something with a simple explanation."

He immediately spoke to several of the pictures on the wall, asking them to institute an immediate check with all of the pictures in the castle as to whether or not they had seen Neville. He then headed out of his office with Professor McGonagall to try other avenues of search. Meeting up with the Fat Friar, he asked him to round up the other ghost to make a thorough search of the grounds. He felt certain something would turn up.

Dumbledore left the castle to go into the Forbidden Forest. There was no need to leave any stones unturned. He went by way of the greenhouses, lingering and looking for traces of anything suspicious, some evidence of dark magic. However, nothing out of the ordinary presented itself.

Hagrid's house was on the edge of the forest. He decided to stop for a brandy before entering the forest. That would give him a chance to ask Hagrid if he had any insights into the whereabouts of Neville.

Good afternoon, perfesser," said Hagrid, answering the knock on his door. "Come in, come in. Always good to see you, perfesser."

"Ah, Hagrid. It is good to pay you a visit down here. I always like the walk out of the castle. There are so many delightful sights, sounds and smell. It is a pleasant trip."

Hagrid placed two glasses on the table and poured a generous portion of brandy into each of them. "There ya go, sir. I reckon you won't be sayin' no to a glass of this."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I do enjoy an occasional glass of brandy," he said, picking up his glass and taking a sip. "That is delicious, indeed. But, alas, I am here on business. So, we must discuss that before we enjoy this too much, I'm afraid."

"What is it that brings you here, perfesser?" said Hagrid, a bit nervous as anyone might be at a bit of news such as that.

"We have a student missing. Neville Longbottom. I am certain you know him."

"Of course I know him. You say he is missin'?" said Hagrid with a shocked tone. "You aren't s'posin' there be somethin' evil runnin' bout the castle, do ya? Maybe he just run off or somethin'"

"Alas, I don't think Neville would run off," said Dumbledore. "He doesn't have anywhere to go except his grandmother's house, and he would much rather be here than there. I fear something stranger is happening. We need to use all of our wits to discover it."

"Certainly. I'll search bout the grounds. Neville is a good sort. I don't want nuthin' bad happenin' to 'im."

"Good. I am going to search about the forest. I will come back to see you later."

Dumbledore exited Hagrid's home, thanking him for the brandy. He walked off toward the Forbidden Forest as Hagrid came out the door, flanked by Fang.

The forest offered up no clues as Dumbledore walked about. He looked through many places. Suddenly, he heard the sound of hooves in the trees nearby.

"Greeting, Firenze," he said as a group of centaurs emerged and walked in his direction.

"Good day," said Firenze. "What brings you into the forest? I haven't seen you in here in quite some time."

"I am searching for a lost student, I'm afraid. I am wondering if you might have seen him?"

Dumbledore explained who he was looking for and gave a description. Firenze conferred with the others. They said they had not seen anyone except Hagrid in the forest in past few days. They promised to send a message if they did.

Dumbledore continued his search of the darkest confines of the forest. It revealed nothing relevant. He finally had to give up on the idea that Neville had gotten lost in the forest. It was a long walk back with nothing to show for it.

Hagrid made his way about the grounds, visiting all sorts of places, including the cave of his former pet acromantula, Aragog. His last search was an extended walk along the shores of the Black Lake. He was fortunate to encounter a group of merpeople. He managed a conversation with them that included asking them questions about Neville. He then had to stick his head underwater several times so that he could understand their answers. By the time the conversation was over, he had to pluck several small fish and a couple of frogs from his hair and beard.

They said they knew who he was, as he frequently was seen wading around, investigating water plants. They were certain he had not met his fate in the lake, but they would send a message if they learned any new information.

Neville had given up his latest search for an exit door and fallen asleep on the floor, using the cushion from the chair as a pillow. When he awoke, he had a sense that someone had been there.

He stood up and noticed the ledger had once again been moved. There were crumbs from a cake on the plate and the last few drops of tea in the cup. The top was off the candy bowl. It was half full of acid pops. He took a couple, being careful to enjoy them slowly, making certain the filling was not the kind that might burn a hole through his tongue. They turned out to be quite good and safe.

The ledger had been turned to January 19th. A freshly inked entry said: Roselle – 1883. He remembered the previous entry of Sanlúcar – 1519. He went back to the drawer for August 10th and pulled it open. Leafing back, he found the spot which had not produced the entry earlier. To his surprise, he found a fresh, rather lengthy entry there about Magellan leaving on a planned trip around the world.

As he read it, it appeared that the recorder of the event, the same Zaman Bahar, had taken a place among a group of about 270 sailors on Magellan's fleet of five ships.

Unlike the previous reports he had read, this one went on for pages and instead of all taking place on the same day, it went on for years, ending with the surviving members of the expedition finally making port back in Spain on September 6, 1522. It was a fascinating account and took considerable time to read.

The perils and hardships, from disease and starvation to attacks by natives, the survivors had endured were considerable. It was unclear how the recorder had made it through the trip without suffering the same hardship, even to the point of perishing like the majority of the crew did.

He looked at the clock, which had once again changed. The numbers were back in their original position, but facing the other direction. He quickly removed and then replaced the slip of paper in the slot. It said Roselle – 1883. The pattern of this place was starting to become predictable. However, how to make sense of it, use it, find a way back home, was not evident.

"Now," he thought as he turned away from the clock, "food should appear on the table."

His prediction proved correct. A stack of chocolate chip cookies, smelling still warm from the oven, appeared on the plate. The cup filled itself with a nice, medium-bodied tea, perhaps Darjeeling. Its steam scented the air with its quality. The candy bowl was found to contain licorice snaps, a candy he liked, but feared ever since he was bitten by several of them.

After finishing the cookies and tea, he felt a nap calling to him. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Before long, he was sound asleep.

"What could have happened to Neville?" asked Hermione, sounding frustrated. "Where could he have gone?

Despite the best efforts of Dumbledore, Neville's disappearance was now the talk of the school. Everyone was pondering ideas and offering theories. No evidence or clues hinting at his location had been found. Even Draco, who was very fond of making snide remarks at Neville's expense, was holding his tongue.