Hogwarts: Neville’s Insert (A Neville SI)

Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 75

Author's Note:

Hey guys!

Sorry for the long wait on this chapter—I had to take some time to rethink how the story should progress, and I've also been a bit busy lately.

This chapter's around 4.3k words, so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for sticking with me!

He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's been hard, this term. Being friends with him. Trying to act like nothing's changed…"

Harry looked between them, eyes tired. "When we fought over Christmas break, part of me was actually… relieved. I thought maybe that was it, you know? That it'd end there. I'm just tired of pretending."

With a heavy breath, he flopped back onto his bed, arms spread out, staring up at the ceiling.

Hermione sat quietly, hands resting in her lap. "But…" she began softly, her voice trailing off.

Neville glanced at her and said gently, "I think it's for the best too, Hermione. This way… if Ron really was our friend, we're not hurting him by pulling away. He won't remember."

Hermione looked down at her hands, fingers twisting together, her face conflicted.

"I'll still talk to him," Harry murmured, still looking at the ceiling. "Be friendly. But I don't want to get too close again. Not like before."

Hermione gave a small nod, her voice barely above a whisper. "I guess… it is for the best."

The room fell quiet for a while.

Then Neville stood up, stretched his arms over his head, and said, "Well… I don't know about you two, but I'm starving. Let's get going."

…

Tuesday, 16th February 1993 – Gryffindor Second-Year Boys' Dormitory, Hogwarts

Neville stretched with a groan, blinking up at the ceiling as morning light poured through the windows. He had something he needed to do today… but his sleepy mind hadn't quite caught up yet.

A cheerful chirp snapped him out of his daze.

"Morning, Lumina," Neville mumbled with a small smile, turning toward the familiar sound.

That smile vanished in an instant.

Lumina was perched near the edge of his bed, tearing into what looked like a small rodent—blood on her beak, a bit of flesh hanging from her sharp talons.

Neville's eyes went wide. "Wait—Scabbers?!"

Panic shot through him as he turned quickly toward Ron's bedside table—only to find the brown blob still there, fast asleep inside his cage.

Neville exhaled, placing a hand over his chest. "Thank Merlin…"

For a second there, he thought Lumina had eaten Scabbers. And he had plans for that rat. Big plans. Good thing she hadn't snacked on him.

Lumina let out a scolding trill.

Neville looked at her, sheepish. "Yeah, sorry… didn't mean to accuse you, girl." He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. "So you snuck out and caught that, huh? Guess worms aren't enough for you anymore."

The phoenix fluffed her feathers proudly, beak still stained red.

"I'll ask Gran to send you something proper," Neville muttered. "Speaking of Gran… I need to talk to her anyway."

He turned his head, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Nine already…"

Looking around the room, he saw all the other boys still fast asleep, buried under their blankets—except for Ron's bed, which was empty.

Neville figured that made sense. Ron was probably still with his family.

The rest of them had stayed up well into the night. After everything that happened, Dumbledore had arranged a feast to celebrate. Classic Dumbledore—he hadn't gone into much detail, only saying the problem had been dealt with and that the students who were petrified would be restored by the end of the week.

He'd also casually announced that final exams were cancelled—except for O.W.L. and N.E.W.T.

Hermione had huffed loud enough for the entire table to hear, grumbling about how she'd already started revising.

They'd also been given the rest of the week off while the staff sorted out Lockhart's… abrupt departure. Apparently, if they couldn't find a replacement by the end of the week, Dumbledore himself would be teaching Defense for the rest of the year.

Neville and Harry had groaned at that. Neither of them liked the idea of spending more time around Dumbledore than they had to.

Later in the evening, Hagrid returned—fresh out of Azkaban. The moment he walked into the Great Hall, the applause was deafening. He'd looked rough around the edges but was grinning ear to ear.

He made a beeline for them, tears in his eyes as he pulled Harry, Hermione, and Neville into a massive, crushing hug.

"Thank yeh," he said thickly. "Really. Thank yeh all. Don' know what I'd've done if yeh hadn't—"

Harry had felt a twist of guilt in his chest. He hadn't visited Hagrid much this year. Not after what Neville had told him about Dumbledore—about all the manipulation. It made harry rethink everything.

Neville, meanwhile, looked annoyed on Hagrid's behalf.

"You should sue the Ministry," he said bluntly. "For defamation, for wrecking your future."

Hagrid waved him off with a shake of his head. "Nah, nah. Nothin' like that. I'm just glad me name's been cleared."

"But you should be able to apply for a wand permit now, right?" Hermione piped up. "Now that your record's clean, they can't say no."

Hagrid's eyes widened. "Wait—yeh think I actually can?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. You got expelled over this exact thing, didn't you? Now that it's confirmed you weren't responsible... they don't have a reason to deny it anymore."

Hagrid looked stunned. Then, slowly, he smiled. "Well… maybe I will look into it. Wouldn' that be somethin'..."

Neville swung his legs off the bed and stretched, letting out a quiet yawn. Still sitting on the edge, he reached down and pulled his sling bag closer. After a moment of rummaging, he pulled out a small notebook and flipped it open.

He grabbed a self-inking quill from the side pocket and scribbled a short message:

Hey Gran, mind if we meet tomorrow? There's something important I need your help with. Oh, and don't worry about me coming to Hogsmeade—I'll meet you there.

Satisfied, he tore out the page and folded it neatly. He fished around in his bag again, pulled out an envelope, and slipped the note inside.

As he stood up, Lumina gave a chirp from her perch, stretching her wings wide. Her eyes locked onto the letter in Neville's hand.

Neville blinked. "What?"

Lumina chirped again, louder this time, flapping once.

It clicked. "Ohh… you want to take the letter?"

Lumina gave a proud little trill.

Neville smiled softly, but shook his head. "No, Lumina. Not today."

She tilted her head, confused.

"You only just turned into a phoenix," Neville said gently. "I'm not letting you fly across half the country already."

Lumina let out an indignant squawk.

"Mate…" came a groggy voice from across the room. Seamus stirred in his bed, face buried in his pillow. "Shut that damn bird up…"

Neville winced. "Sorry!"

He turned back to Lumina and patted her head softly. "Hey, quiet down, girl. I'm not saying you can't take letters. Just… not yet, alright?"

She chirped again, this time softer.

"It's not that I don't trust you," he said, rubbing the top of her head. "It's just… There are poachers out there. And you're rare. A beautiful phoenix… a blue one at that. It's not safe."

Lumina chirped again, preening under his touch at the word beautiful.

Neville chuckled. "Yeah, you like that, don't you?"

He gave her one last stroke before stepping back. "I'll get Hedwig to deliver this one, alright?"

Lumina gave a reluctant trill but finally nodded, though not without a mildly offended fluff of her feathers.

Neville smiled, gently rubbing the feathers on her head again. "Ah, Don't be like that. You know I'm right—it's not safe out there yet. You can fly around the castle grounds if you want, stretch your wings a bit. Later, I'll get you something nice to eat… how about some bacon, yeah? Your favourite."

Lumina gave a soft trill, tilting her head at him.

"But don't leave the area, alright?" Neville added seriously. "I don't want you getting hurt." He gave her a small smile. "Oh, and I'll be needing your help later. I've got something to do."

At that, Lumina gave a bright, eager chirp and puffed her feathers out with excitement.

Neville chuckled. "Not now, girl. We'll talk later. For now, how about you go out for a fly around the castle?"

Lumina nodded, then flapped her wings and glided out the window into the morning sky.

Neville watched her go, then muttered to himself. "Huh… It's like having a girlfriend. One that gets hangry." Shaking his head at the thought, he turned and walked over to Harry's bed.

Harry was curled up tightly under his blankets, snoring softly. Neville walked over and gave his shoulder a light shake.

"Hey, Harry. Wake up."

Harry stirred slightly, then groaned and pulled the covers tighter around himself.

Neville sighed and shook him a bit harder. "Harry, wake up, mate. Come on."

Harry finally cracked an eye open, yawning as he sat up groggily. "Huh? Neville? What do you want? " He rubbed his eyes and reached blindly for his glasses on the nightstand. "Why're you waking me up? Don't we have the rest of the week off?"

Neville crossed his arms. "We've got something to do. Get dressed."

Harry frowned, still half-asleep. "What time is it?"

"It's nine," Neville replied.

Harry gave him a look. "You woke me up at nine… on a day off?" He groaned. "Can't we just rest in for once?"

Swinging his legs off the bed, he sat up fully.

Neville shook his head. "It's important. We need to hurry. We've got to get Hermione too."

Harry sighed, muttering something under his breath, but stood and stretched. "Alright, alright…"

As Neville turned to head toward his bag, he glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, mind if I use Hedwig to send a letter to Gran?"

Harry waved a hand lazily. "No, I don't mind. She could use the exercise anyway."

Neville nodded, walking over to Hedwig's perch. The snowy owl tilted her head as he approached.

"Hey girl," Neville said softly, holding out the envelope. "Mind delivering this to my gran for me?"

Hedwig hooted once and extended her leg. Neville tied the letter on gently, gave her a light stroke, and she took off through the open window with a graceful flap of wings.

Neville turned back to his bed, grabbed the towel he'd left draped over the frame, along with a clean set of clothes.

"Shower," he said, already heading toward the door.

Harry mumbled something that sounded like "fine," grabbed his own things, and followed after him.

….

About half an hour later, Neville and Harry made their way down from the boys' dormitory, both fully dressed for the day.

They were in casual T-shirts and trousers—comfortable, since it was a free day.

Harry let out a wide yawn as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Where exactly are we going?"

Neville adjusted his collar and said, "Like I said—I'll tell you later."

Harry gave him a tired look. "As long as we're not fighting another basilisk, I'm good."

They stepped into the common room and immediately spotted Hermione at their usual table. She had her head buried in a thick book, completely absorbed in whatever she was reading.

Neville walked over first. "Morning, Hermione."

Harry plopped into the seat beside her. "Morning," he mumbled.

Hermione looked up, raising an eyebrow at the sight of them both. "I'm surprised you're awake this early," she said, closing her book with a soft thump. "I figured you two would want to sleep in."

"Ask him," Harry said, jerking a thumb at Neville. "He woke me up. Said we've got something important to do."

Hermione gave Neville a suspicious look. "Oh?"

Neville nodded. "I'll tell you both later. But first—food. You eaten yet?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I was planning to head down in a bit. Thought I'd finish another chapter first, but…" She glanced between the two boys and sighed. "Guess that's out the window now."

"Well, come on then," Neville said, already heading toward the portrait hole.

Hermione stood up and slipped the book into her bag. As she followed, she muttered under her breath, "Why do I get the feeling he's about to do something completely ridiculous?"

Harry followed, yawning and stretching. "Because it's Neville. And when he says, 'I'll tell you later,' it usually means we're about to sneak into something we probably shouldn't… or he's figured something out and forgot to warn us."

Hermione let out a low groan. "Brilliant."

Up ahead, Neville held the portrait door open and glanced back with a grin. "Oi. I'm right here, you know."

"We know," Hermione muttered, brushing past him with narrowed eyes. The portrait swung shut behind them.

Harry smirked as he followed. "Just making sure you heard us."

Neville rolled his eyes, still grinning. "You two are very hurtful."

"You'll live," Hermione said flatly. "Assuming whatever this is doesn't get us expelled."

"No promises," Neville replied cheerfully as they descended the staircase and stepped into the corridor leading toward the Great Hall.

As they passed the side hallway that branched toward the clock tower and Hospital Wing, Hermione slowed her steps.

She paused at the corridor entrance, eyes flicking down it.

Neville and Harry both stopped too, turning to look at her.

Hermione bit her lip. "Don't you think we should check on Ron?"

Harry shook his head. "Maybe later," he said quietly. "If we go now, he might… latch on. And that's the last thing I want."

Hermione hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "Yeah. You're right."

They'd made their decision yesterday. Ron wouldn't be part of their group anymore—and as hard as it was, it really was for the best.

Hermione frowned but didn't argue. "Yeah. You're right."

They'd already made that decision yesterday—they weren't going to reintegrate Ron into the group. As painful as it was, it was for the best.

The three of them walked past the corridor without another word and continued down the stairs toward the Great Hall in silence.

Neville pushed the doors open and glanced around. There were only a handful of students inside, sitting in small scattered groups. The room felt quiet, almost peaceful.

At the staff table, Neville spotted a few professors—Flitwick, Professor Vector, Professor Sinistra, and the Care of Magical Creatures professor, whose name still escaped him.

Neville muttered under his breath, "Everyone must still be asleep."

Harry yawned. "We should still be asleep."

Neville ignored him and made his way to the Gryffindor table, sitting down with a stretch. Hermione sat beside him, placing her bag on the bench.

"So," Hermione said, eyeing him, "are we actually going somewhere, or are you just dragging us around for fun?"

"I've been asking that since he woke me up," Harry added grumpily, already piling food onto his plate. He stabbed a sausage and took a bite. "Could've used a lie-in."

Neville casually started building a sandwich—bacon, eggs, sausage, all stuffed into a roll. "We're going exploring."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Exploring what, exactly?"

Harry blinked and froze mid-bite. "Wait—you don't mean the Chamber, do you?"

Neville swallowed and opened his mouth to respond—but before he could say anything, a dreamy voice chimed in:

"Hello, everyone. Lovely morning, isn't it?"

They turned to see Luna Lovegood, who had wandered over and plopped down next to Harry with a cheerful smile.

Neville gave her a nod. "Morning, Luna."

"Good morning, Luna," Hermione added, offering a polite smile.

Harry nodded to her. "Did you sleep well?"

Luna gave a dreamy nod. "Mmm. Quite well. The dorm was unusually calm. I think the Wrackspurts must've been startled off by my earrings."

As she spoke, she scooped up a spoonful of pudding and continued as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "You see, I wore an onion ring on my left ear. I heard they make excellent repellents for Wrackspurts."

Harry blinked. "Huh… well, I'm glad it helped."

Then Luna leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is it true what they're saying?" she asked, eyes wide and serious. "That the Heir of Slytherin was actually a hat? A very old one—enchanted by Salazar Slytherin himself. It was supposed to help sort students, long before the Sorting Hat we use now. But Godric's hat got picked instead… and it got pushed aside."

She looked around the table, as if making sure no one else could hear, then added solemnly, "They say it sulked in the Chamber for centuries. Poor thing. Apparently, it was the Sorting Hat's cousin. Very jealous. I don't blame it, really. Imagine being locked away for a thousand years while your brother gets all the praise."

Neville, without missing a beat, nodded solemnly. "That's what really happened, yeah. Sad, really. He just wanted to be noticed."

Luna nodded, eyes full of sympathy. "Jealous hats are often misunderstood."

Hermione, who had just finished the last bite of her breakfast, let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not what happened, Luna." She turned to Neville and narrowed her eyes, her voice dropping to a whisper-shout. "And you—you're planning to go back into the Chamber, aren't you?"

Neville opened his mouth, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips—

"Miss Granger."

They all turned at once. Standing behind them, perfectly composed as always, was Professor McGonagall.

"If you've finished your breakfast," she said crisply, "the Headmaster has requested your presence."

Hermione blinked, surprised. "Yes, Professor… may I ask what for?"

McGonagall gave a small nod. "The Auror Office requires formal statements."

Neville sat up straighter. "Would it be alright if Harry and I came too, Professor? We were both involved."

She paused for a moment, considering. "I don't see any harm in it. Yes—come along."

They all stood, pushing their plates aside.

Neville turned to Luna. "We'll see you later."

"Alright," Luna said cheerfully, dunking a biscuit into her pudding. "Tell the Aurors not to let their quills fall asleep. It happens more often than you'd think."

Neville nodded. "Sure."

With that, the three of them followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall.

After climbing several flights of stairs, Neville let out an annoyed huff, glancing around at the narrow corridor. "Honestly," he muttered, "putting the hospital wing at the top of a tower has to be the dumbest decision in wizarding history. Friggin' tower…"

Harry and Hermione said nothing—they'd heard him complain about it before.

Eventually, they reached the familiar double doors of the Hospital Wing. Inside, they found Dumbledore speaking with three Aurors.

One was tall, dark-skinned, and wore sharp robes. The second was an older, grizzled man with a wooden cane, a scarred face, and a strange, magical eye that swivelled independently in its socket. The third was a younger woman with bubblegum-pink hair, scribbling notes quickly on a clipboard.

Neville immediately recognised two of them: Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks. But he didn't know who the tall man was.

Ron sat upright on one of the hospital beds, looking confused as the dark-skinned Auror asked him questions in a calm, measured tone. Molly Weasley sat beside him, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief and gently brushing Ron's fringe from his forehead.

As soon as Harry saw her, his shoulders stiffened. His jaw clenched.

Neville leaned in and gave him a nudge. "Harry—stay calm," he whispered under his breath.

Dumbledore spotted them at the entrance and gave a pleased smile. "Ah, Minerva. I see you've brought Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Longbottom—splendid, just in time."

The grizzled man with the magical eye gave them a long look. "So these're the ones, eh?" he asked, voice gravelly.

Ron caught sight of Hermione and immediately pointed at her. "Hey! You're the one who kept dragging me up all those stairs. I'm still sore after that."

Hermione blinked, caught completely off guard.

Neville muttered under his breath, "Well… that's one thing that never changes with Ron, I suppose."

He stepped forward. "Good morning, Headmaster. Professors." Then he nodded respectfully to the Aurors and offered a polite, "Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione followed with a polite, "Good morning, Professor Dumbledore. Aurors."

Harry gave Dumbledore a neutral, "Headmaster," before turning to Mrs. Weasley. "Morning, Mrs. Weasley."

She stood almost immediately, crossing the room with open arms. "Oh, Harry, dear—it's awful, what's happened. Poor Ronald…"

Harry let her hug him, though his return was stiff—one arm barely rising. "Yeah… I'm sorry about what happened, Mrs. Weasley."

He stepped back quickly, his expression guarded. Molly opened her mouth like she wanted to say something more, but before she could, the gruff voice of Alastor Moody cut in.

"Which of you three was present when the memory charm was cast?" he asked, jerking his chin toward Ron's bed.

Hermione raised a hand, her fingers trembling just slightly. "That… that would be me, sir."

Moody gave a short, slow nod. "Alright, lass. Walk us through it."

Before she could speak, Dumbledore smoothly interjected, "Perhaps it would be best if you begin from when you went to Professor Lockhart's office for help."

Neville caught it immediately. There it is again. Dumbledore wasn't being obvious—but he was steering. Guiding the story to the version he wanted the Ministry to hear. The one without basilisks. Without diaries. Something safe. Clean. Easy to file away.

Hermione nodded, looking down for a second as she gathered her thoughts. "After we split up, Ron and I went to find Professor Lockhart. He was the closest teacher nearby. When we got to his office… he looked like he was in a hurry."

Moody's brow dipped slightly, but he said nothing—just listened.

"We told him someone had been taken, and that we knew where the entrance was. We asked him for help. But he said he had something urgent—he couldn't go. Then he changed his mind, said he'd come with us."

She paused, fingers curling slightly in her lap.

"But when we turned our backs, he pulled out his wand. and cast Obliviate without warning," Hermione said, her voice steady but low. "I jumped to the side, but Ron—he wasn't fast enough. The spell hit him directly."

Tonks paused mid-scribble and looked up with a frown. "You dodged a point-blank spell? Cast right at you?"

Before Hermione could answer, Neville spoke up. "We've been training to dodge spells," he said simply. "It's always better to dodge than block, if you can help it."

Shacklebolt raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Moody gave a grunt of approval. "Go on."

Hermione nodded. "I scrambled back up and drew my wand. I asked him why. He told me he didn't sign up for real danger—that he couldn't let us ruin his reputation. Said he was going to Obliviate us… then report that we'd gone mad after finding Harry and Neville's bodies."

She swallowed, then added, "He admitted everything. All the stories in his books were lies. He finds people who've done something brave, hits them with Obliviate, and takes the credit."

Tonks gave a low whistle. "What a git…" She went back to scribbling, now faster than before.

Shacklebolt nodded once, his voice even. "Please continue."

Hermione took a breath. "He raised his wand again—to hit me next. But I managed to cast a Shield Charm in time. It bounced the spell right back at him."

That made Shacklebolt stop writing. He looked up, meeting her eyes. "You're telling us," he said slowly, "that a second-year student cast a proper shield charm strong enough to deflect Obliviate?"

His voice tightened. "Please don't fabricate the story, Miss Granger. This is an official Auror report—not something for The Quibbler."

Hermione's shoulders tensed, her mouth opening—but she didn't speak.

But Dumbledore interrupted with a warm chuckle. "Ah, what she says is quite true, Kingsley. You see, these three are rather advanced in their magic. Perhaps… a demonstration?"

Hermione glanced between them all, then gave a nervous nod and pulled out her wand.

Neville leaned in slightly. "You've got this. Just focus."

Hermione nodded again, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes briefly, centering herself using Occlumency. Then she opened them and firmly said, "Protego."

A shimmering shield burst from her wand, forming perfectly in front of her. Smooth, solid, and stable.

Moody gave a low grunt of approval. "Hmph. Not bad."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, smiling. "Well done, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." He looked toward Kingsley. "That clears the doubt, I hope?"

Shacklebolt nodded silently and made a neat note in his parchment.

"Go on then," Moody said, giving Hermione a nod. "Finish your account."

Hermione drew in a steady breath and continued. "The spell bounced off the shield and hit Lockhart. He flew backwards, hit the wall, and passed out." She glanced toward Ron. "After that… I dragged Ron with me. Harry and Neville still needed help, and I couldn't just leave him lying there. So I went looking for Professor McGonagall."

She paused a moment, then added, "Oh—and before the spell rebounded, he told us everything. That all the stories in his books were stolen. They were other people's accomplishments. He'd travel around asking for their stories, then hit them with Obliviate to erase their memories. Said he'd been doing it for years."

Tonks made a disgusted sound, wrinkling her nose. "Always knew Lockhart was a phony."

Shacklebolt, still writing, asked calmly, "Is that all? Miss Granger"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir. That's everything."

Moody grunted. "We'll need to find the real victims. Might take some digging—memory charms like that don't always leave a clean trail."

Meanwhile, Neville—who was standing near Tonks—tilted his head slightly. "You were a seventh year last year, right? Hufflepuff? Nymphadora?"

Tonks's head whipped around so fast it was a miracle she didn't snap her neck. Her hair turned bubblegum pink on the spot.

"Don't. Call me that."

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