Neville stared. He'd been so caught up in figuring out Alice that he hadn't even noticed who was standing behind her, holding a bag of oranges. It was like looking into an aging mirror - the boy was clearly, well, himself, five or six years ago, round-faced and somehow innocent looking. He'd give a lot to look like that again.
"Hi," he said, unable to help smiling a little. "Nice to meet you... Neville."