Neville closed his eyes as he spun around and around, through fire after fire. Dust whirled around him, tickling slightly and making him feel the urge to sneeze. At last, Neville came to a halt. He was quite surprised the journey had taken so long; he had been traveling for several minutes. Neville deduced it must be because Hogwarts was quite a bit farther away than most of the places he visited. He dusted himself off and stepped out of the fire, rescuing his trunk from the again-normal flames just in time. Neville looked around, trying to figure out where he was. The room was not very bright, although it still had a quite airy quality about it. There were large bookshelves of dark wood that stretched up to the ceiling, filled with books and other magical instruments. The desk was large and ornate, and quite neat. Neville could see a dainty cup filled with quills, and a neat stack of parchment in one corner, ready to be written on. Neville felt a very strong urge to take a closer look, but felt it prudent not to. He stood by the fire, warming his already-cold hands, for the room was quite drafty.
Just then, Neville heard sharp, quick footsteps coming down the hall. They were growing louder and louder, and Neville realized the person they belong to must be coming to fetch him. A concealed door flew open to reveal Professor McGonagall, who looked as stern as always.
"There you are, Mr. Longbottom." She said crisply. "I have been awaiting your arrival. You have already missed the Sorting, but you may join in for the feast, which will be beginning very shortly. Leave your trunk here, it will be brought up to your dormitory. Follow me, then." Professor McGonagall turned around sharply without waiting for Neville's consent. He hurried down the hall behind her, a bit out of breath, for she walked extremely briskly for such an elderly woman.
After several minutes, Neville finally caught sight of the magnificent brass doors leading into the Great Hall. He hustled forward, overtaking Professor McGonagall, and pushed them open. For a very brief moment, Neville fretted that he would cause quite a scene, and paused in the doorway, hesitant. Professor McGonagall, however, prodded him forward, into the hall. Neville sighed with relief; the meal had already started, and the loud chatter prevented many students from noticing Neville's late entrance. He hurried to the Gryffindor table, locating Harry and Ron. They had been quite thoughtful, and left an extra place, which Neville gratefully sat down in.
"You all right, Neville? What happened?" Ron asked worriedly.
"How'd you end up getting here? Are you in trouble?" Harry demanded, also nervous for Neville, who shook his head.
"I'm fine, don't worry. You lot saw what happened. I forgot my trunk, ran to get it, and it was gone. And then the train left before I could get back on." Neville explained, feeling as though the story were quite dull. His friends, however, did not seem to agree. They stared at Neville, openmouthed.
"Wow, how strange! How'd you get here, then? Did one of the teachers come fetch you?" Ron asked. Neville noticed Harry tense up slightly, but could not understand why.
"No, actually. Harry, your dad found me. He helped find my trunk, and then wrote to Hogwarts. They fixed everything so I could get here by Floo powder." Neville looked gratefully at his friend, who relaxed.
"Wow, I'm sure glad my dad was there, then!" Harry exclaimed, grinning slightly. Neville nodded, agreeing completely.
"So who d'you think we'll be getting as a Potions master this year?" Neville asked, changing the subject slightly abruptly, for he had been considering this all day. "I know we're getting Lockhart for Defense Against the Dark Arts, he announced it last week in Flourish and Blotts."
Ron nodded. "Harry and I were there, we heard that too. Saw you getting some nice pictures with him, too." He said jokingly. "Malfoy got right angry at us. I'll bet he wishes he were famous enough to have people recognize him like that. His father came over and everything, because Harry and I were about ready to curse him right there. They even made fun of Ginny's secondhand books. I hate the Malfoys." Ron scowled, as though even the thought of Malfoys was too much to handle.
"I thought I saw something going on!" Neville exclaimed, feeling quite content now that he knew what had occurred.
"Yeah, that was us." Ron smiled ruefully. "So anyways, Potions master. Whoever it is'll probably be Head of Slytherin too, which means they'll probably hate us. Don't you reckon?"
Neville nodded, then turned to Harry for his opinion. He was quite surprised, for Harry was staring moodily at his plate, rather than joining the conversation wholeheartedly as he usually did.
"What's up?" Neville asked worriedly, staring beseechingly at his sullen friend.
Harry looked up. "Oh, nothing. You were asking about the Potions master? Maybe they've asked one of the other teachers to be Head of Slytherin, and gotten someone less… evil. I dunno." Neville nodded, still a bit curious, for his friend's eyes did not sparkle as they usually did, and he did not seem quite as excitable. Neville turned back to his plate and continued to eat his way through several helpings of the delicious Hogwarts food.
At last, when everyone appeared to be quite full, the food vanished, and the plates became glimmering and polished once again. Neville looked towards the head table, where, sure enough, Dumbledore was standing to speak.
"Welcome, all of you, to another year at Hogwarts. I trust you all had an enjoyable summer to forget everything you learned last year!" He smiled sympathetically at the many students, who glanced guiltily at one another. "I trust you all wish to hear each other speak, rather than myself, so I will make this quite brief. I would like to welcome two new staff members this year!" Neville glanced excitedly at his friends, hoping desperately that their new Potions master would not be as strange and malicious as Professor Exanimis had been.
"Filling the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts, we have none other than Professor Lockhart!" Dumbledore paused as Gilderoy Lockhart stood and gave a sweeping bow, his pale purple robes bright in the candlelit room. There was sparse applause around the room, which appeared to be mainly, Neville noted, from witches. He turned his attention back to Dumbledore, who continued. "Our second addition is-" he broke off as a door behind the head table opened, and a young woman stepped through it. Neville could not see her very clearly, for the room was quite shadowy, but felt she looked rather familiar. He looked at Dumbledore, who continued as though he had not been interrupted. "Professor Evans." He said happily, turning towards the young woman, who had taken a seat at the table. Neville heard Ron gasp, but could not understand why. The students clapped politely, unsure what to think of this mysterious woman. "Alright now, off to bed!" Dumbledore called, gesturing for the students to make their way out of the hall.
Neville turned back to his friends, who looked quite strange. Ron was staring at Harry, a look of shock and betrayal upon his freckled face. Harry stared at his plate, not speaking.
Neville did not understand what was going on. "W-what's wrong?" He asked nervously of his friends.
Ron turned towards Neville, his face growing red. "That's Harry's mum!" He turned back to his surly friend. "Harry, why didn't you tell us? We're supposed to be friends!" He stared expectantly. Neville, understanding at once, stared curiously at him as well.
After several moments, Harry sighed. "I didn't say anything because it's just so embarrassing, having your mum as a teacher! I kept hoping she'd change her mind, but she didn't. Dumbledore asked her a few weeks ago, and she was all excited about it. Can you believe it?" He looked up at his friends, a note of apology and frustration in his voice.
Neville tilted his head, still a bit confused. "Hang on, why isn't she Professor Potter, then?" He asked curiously.
"After Mum realized how much I hated the idea, she said she'd go by Professor Evans, so that maybe people wouldn't know."
"Harry's mum used to be an Evans before she married Harry's dad." Ron explained, filling in the gap. Neville nodded, fully understanding. He felt a bit jealous that Ron knew Harry's family so well, but knew such a thought was quite silly. He stood up from the table. The Great Hall was quite empty now; only a few groups of students remained.
"Well, at least we know we won't get treated unfairly in Potions this year." Neville exclaimed, grinning. He was not generally an optimist, but felt as though he really ought to say something in order to make Harry feel better. "Now come on, or we'll never get up to Gryffindor Tower in time."
Harry and Ron nodded, pushed back their bench, and stood up. Harry still looked a bit down, but he appeared much improved from his earlier moody state. The three boys began to make their way out of the hall, catching up on their summers along the way.
"So Neville, how come you never wrote back to Ron and me?" Harry asked, curious once again.
Neville felt a jolt in his stomach as he remembered Dobby, and his strange warning. "It wasn't my fault, I never got them! This house elf called Dobby took them, because he wanted to stop me from going back to Hogwarts. He said that bad things are going to be happening here this year."
Ron looked a bit nervous. Harry, however, looked positively excited. "Really? What sort of things?" He demanded, his face bright with curiosity in the torchlight.
"I dunno, he didn't say." Neville said nervously, not understanding how such news could excite Harry. "But I hope he's wrong, because last year was enough of an adventure for me!"
Ron nodded, but Harry was not to be deterred. "I hope he's not wrong! Hogwarts'll be boring without a mystery of some sort, you know it will!" Ron and Neville were silent, considering. Neville realized that their adventure last year had been somewhat exciting. After all, it was on their quest that the three boys had become quite so close. Neville realized that without that journey, he might not, perhaps, have best friends.
"I guess you're right." He said reluctantly. "So long as it's nothing too dangerous or anything. I don't want anyone to be killed or anything!" He exclaimed, trying to convince himself he was joking, and surely nothing could be that terrible.
"I guess we'll probably find out what's up soon enough." Ron said, speaking at last. "If it's not too dangerous, then I'll definitely help." He grinned at his two friends.
The three boys continued up to Gryffindor Tower, laughing and joking. Neville grew extremely content; he felt as though he were home at last. Though it was a new year, Neville felt as though nothing had changed from the previous. He was still excited to learn, but even more excited to be with his friends. Neville hoped the rest of the year would be as joyful and perfect as that very moment.