Neville jumped to task. Dolohov was almost out of it, clinging to consciousness by the merest of intoxicated braincells. Neville dragged him to one side of the room, clumsily pulling his robe back around him as Harry set to spell-casting at breathtaking speed. He transfigured things so fast that Neville struggled to keep up, as he watched Harry turn the window blinds into deflector panels, the bed became a long, raised platform and the remnants of the smashed vanity table became two stools down at either end.