The return of the other students also meant that Harry's favourite target for legilimency practise had returned. He'd moved well beyond trying to cast the charm on him from his sleeve while his victim napped in front of the fire, and now, in the first free period following Arithmancy and Runes, Harry was proudly skimming the surface thoughts of the hapless Colin Creevey without needing anything more than brief eye contact.
Creevey didn't have a great deal to share except a growing dislike of potions, frustration and despair at his coming grade, so Harry switched targets, brushing at the edges of the minds of a scatter of the younger years who were brave enough to meet his eyes. Most of them were afraid of him, or at least very uncomfortable under his attention, so he gleaned next to nothing else from them. He did learn that one of them had been mysteriously abducted from Umbridge's office before he could have a nasty accident with some very corrosive liquids. Dobby was doing well.
A loud thump jolted him from his hobby and announced Neville's return from the library.
He'd acquired a very large book on magical cacti, presumably at the instruction of Professor Sprout, and proceeded to open it mumbling about mimbulus mimbletonia under his breath.
'Looking for something interesting?' Harry asked. He had a choice between finishing his Runes essay, something he'd rather not do at that minute, and finding excuses to distract himself. The latter seemed the more preferable of the two. 'Assyrian magical plants,' Neville replied absently, still flicking through the pages. 'There's supposed to be very special soil types that Hannah needs to survive.'
'Still calling it Hannah, then,' Harry laughed. 'Has she found out yet?'
'She's only been back for one night,' Neville frowned, 'who would have told her?'
'Professor Sprout,' Harry grinned. 'She's bound to mention the prized possession of her favourite pupil to the best Herbology student in her house.'
'Please stop,' Neville pleaded, looking very red and slightly faint. Clearly he hadn't considered that.
'That bad?' Harry smirked. 'Look on the bright side, now you know that she really will be flattered that you've named it after her. Professor Sprout will say nothing but nice things about Hannah, your Hannah, that is, the cactus.'
'How would you like it if I constantly teased you about Fleur?' Neville demanded, closing the book.
'I wouldn't,' Harry admitted, 'but you've rather missed the moment for that. Still, I'll stop, but only when you've asked her to Hogsmeade, otherwise I'll just get worse and worse.'
'That's the most horrible way to make sure I ask her out,' Neville muttered. 'You couldn't have just tried to convince me she would say yes, could you?'
'I don't think it would be as fun,' Harry remarked cheerfully. 'Do you know anything about runes, Nev?'
'Nothing that you don't know,' he shrugged. 'I don't even take the subject.'
'So I'll have to wait for Hermione to come down and start enthusing about her essay to figure what I might have missed out and can use to fill in the last inch or so,' Harry realised.
'I'm not sure she's done it yet,' Neville told him, lowering his voice. 'I heard from Ron that Lavender told him she was up all night. Apparently she had some kind of nightmare, she wasn't taking anywhere near as many notes as normal today; she must be tired. Ron's been pretty withdrawn too, I've only seen him voluntarily speaking to the guys in our dorm, Hermione and Lavender.'
'Ron's father died just before christmas,' Harry explained sombrely, thinking back to their Runes and Arithmancy classes. Hermione had looked more tired than usual, and he couldn't remember seeing Ron doing anything more than stare out the window morosely at breakfast and lunch.
Ron not eating must be a warning sign of something wrong.
'I didn't know,' Neville looked mortified.
'It's not exactly something to shout about is it,' Harry pointed out.
'No,' Neville said softly. 'It explains what he said to Romilda Vane, though.' Harry raised an eyebrow and Neville elucidated. 'She was asking about your adventures in the early years, Romilda's well known for having a bit of a crush on you. Ron told her that they're only adventures for the people who don't get hurt and walked off.'
'They're not adventures at all,' Harry commented, agreeing with Ron for the first time in a while. 'Too many people nearly died. Me, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and more. Calling them adventures is naive and thoughtless.'
Neville looked at him thoughtfully and then nodded slowly. 'Ron said pretty much the same thing to use afterwards.'
Harry returned to his Arithmancy essay, tapping his quill on the table and wracking his brain for anything else he might know about the divination of numbers.
Nothing immediately useful sprang to mind and he sighed, abandoning any last hope of managing to reach the length Professor Vector had prescribed to the class. Every essay she set seem just a little longer than anyone could realistically write about the subject for.
Neville had returned to flicking through his giant Herbology tome, frowning more and more deeply. 'Something wrong?' Harry inquired.
'I'm going to have trouble re-potting Hannah,' Harry stifled a laugh, 'the silica content of the soil has to be just right or it becomes too alkaline and she'll die.'
'Can't you just order some special soil from wherever it's native too?'
'Hannah comes from Assyria, but I guess I could,' Neville nodded. 'It's cheating really, you're supposed to make your own blend of soil types, but it would be better than letting her die.'
'What would Hannah think if you let her namesake wilt from neglect?' Harry grinned, rolling up his essay and tucking it into his bag. 'I'm going to go and give this to Professor Vector,' he announced. 'It's not due until tomorrow, but I don't want to see it anymore.' 'Fair enough,' Neville chuckled. 'I've got lots of things to research for taking care of Hannah, so I'll still be here for a while.'
'I might go for a walk down near the lake,' Harry told him. 'Don't wait for me or anything.'
'I wasn't going to,' Neville shrugged. 'I've got a DA meeting to do, the first one since everyone's come back.'
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