[It's really James Potter frowning at him, that's for damn sure. He drops the fistful of robes after a moment, and eyes the stranger. Who looks exactly like him.]
Well, Neville. Why're you following me?
[It looks like a displaced in time child of his, and it talks like a displaced in time of his but like bloody hell would he name his child Neville. Maybe he has a grandson. Or a distant, long lost cousin.]
no subject
Well, Neville. Why're you following me?
[It looks like a displaced in time child of his, and it talks like a displaced in time of his but like bloody hell would he name his child Neville. Maybe he has a grandson. Or a distant, long lost cousin.]