"So ... what do we know?" Neville asked as he paced the Dining Hall, which had become an unofficial war room, a piece of parchment trailing behind him. All the answers he wanted were on it, but he just couldn't be bothered reading them in his restless state. Hermione scowled at him ... any chance at reading was a blessing from the Gods, in her eyes, so for Neville to so blatantly channel Ron Weasley's spirit in this way didn't sit well with her at all. And when she told him, and he replied that he didn't care, Lady Potter just pouted crossly in return, while Harry laughed in the seat next to her.