That morning during the mail bomb, Harry received a letter from Amelia Bones informing him of the punishment levied against Molly Weasley for her 'egregious breach of the Statute of Secrecy' back on the first of September, 1991, at Kings Cross Train Station.
When he saw the amount of the fine he let out a low whistle. That was a lot of galleons. He just hoped Arthur could afford it, or raise enough money to pay it. If he didn't, Molly was heading for Azkaban until he either could pay it or she'd served at least twelve months of incarceration.
The letter also informed him that, if any of the Weasleys gave him a hard time about it and an auror wasn't nearby to witness it, he was to immediately report it to her or one of her aurors. And it would be dealt with.
He gave a sigh, folded it up and put it in his pocket. Though it would have been something he'd have done in his fake persona, he knew it wasn't his place to inform the Weasleys of the DMLE order.
"Who's the letter from, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"The DMLE and it's none of your concern," he replied, before turning to her. "Please, don't ask."
Hermione gave her own sigh, looked down to her plate and nodded.
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After he felt he'd finally gotten through to Hermione about the house elves - he hoped - the previous night, Harry went in search of Neville. He found the boy in the House common room reading a book on, it appeared, plants of the Mediterranean.
"Neville," he called, getting the other boy's attention.
"Yeah, Harry?" asked the other boy, setting his book aside.
"You and I need to talk," he replied. He gestured to the common room door and said, "Mind stepping outside with me and going for a walk?"
Giving a firm nod back, the other boy said, "Sure, Harry." And set his book onto the alongside side table and stood; heading over.
Leading the way outside and down the corridor a bit, Neville followed and remained silent until Harry began to speak quite a few dozen feet away from the common room entrance. "Neville, I need you to answer some questions I have, honestly and without quibble. I do not need nor want excuses, just explanations. Can you do that for me?"
The only thing that made Neville pause before giving an automatic response was the intensity of his friend's questions and the look of seriousness on the other boy's face. He was a moment before he firmly stated back, "Yes, Harry."
Harry only gave a firm nod before he turned to look more directly at his dorm mate's face. "Both of us have been at this school, as dorm mates, for a little over three years now. In that time you could not help but notice I have been dressed in little more than hand-me-down rags, I've been clearly undernourished and I have scars on my body a normal child, wizard or muggle, should never have.
"The Houses of Longbottom and Potter are supposed to be allied. So, my question is, why have you never said anything about that? Why have you not at least raised it with me?"
Neville, Heir Longbottom, knew to his very bones this was a very important question and required a very well-considered response. He knew this question would come one day and knew the alliance would hinge on his answer. Therefore, above any other questions that might one day be asked of him, he had thought long and hard about how he would answer this one.
With conviction, he looked his mate directly in the eye and firmly but quietly replied, "The day I first saw you once you'd returned to wizarding world, the first of September 1991, I knew something was wrong concerning you. Yes, I noticed you were scrawny and appeared underfed. I also noticed your clothing appeared oversized and, as you put it, hand-me-downs. That, alone, worried me.
"That night I wrote to my Gran about you and what I noticed. I sought her advice. However, before she replied back and that very night, I then saw you for the first time in only your briefs and noticed the scarring; so I sent a second letter the very next morning about that, too.
"Less than an hour later I received a letter from Gran at breakfast, answering the first letter, where she told me I was not to do or say anything unless you directly asked. She told me it was not my place to do so."
Neville turned to look away, clearly ashamed at that, and sighed. "I was angry when I read that."
Turning to look back with an expression of both remembered anger and frustration he continued, "But I was hoping her response to my second letter would change her instruction. It didn't.
"Her response to my second letter arrived the next morning during the normal owl delivery time. I'd eagerly opened it, expecting just such a change. However, she again instructed me to do and say nothing."
Neville had stopped walking at that point. His eyes had lost focus, staring at the floor a dozen feet ahead of him; his whole body stood tense with fists clenched as his magic began to manifest in a slight aura about himself.
Harry stood a few feet away to the side and carefully watched his friend. He now knew it was not his friend's fault he'd never spoken up when he knew he should have. But he also knew the other boy had to work his way through it on his own.
"I couldn't believe, she told me that," Neville almost spat. "I tried, again and again, to convince her I had to step in and talk to you about it, or at least coming and talking to you about it herself; but she kept telling me to stay out of it. Eventually, after about our tenth time of me writing her and begging her to let me step in she wrote and told me 'No' and that I was to immediately drop the subject.
"I was furious, but she's Regent and I couldn't go against her. However, I definitely gave her a serve about it at Yule that first year. Even then, though, she wasn't moved. She just dug her heels in, refused to discuss it any more and told me the matter was closed until you raised it."