Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 50
Harry let out a sigh and adjusted his bag. "Well, I'm heading to Dumbledore's office. Let's see what he wants with me. Wish me luck."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, concern written all over her face. "We can come with you if you want," she offered.
Harry shook his head. "It's probably just like you said—he wants to check in."
Neville leaned in, voice low. "Whatever it is, just don't look him in the eye, yeah? Keep things casual and you'll be fine."
Then leaning back, he added, "Come to the library after you're done. Me and Hermione are heading there now."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll meet you guys there. How long will you be around?"
Neville shrugged. "Two hours or so—until six. After that, just come to the common room if we're not there."
Ron wrinkled his nose. "The library? We just finished classes and you're already going to the library?"
Hermione shrugged with a huff. "No one's forcing you to join us, Ron. We just want to finish the day's assignments early."
Ron grumbled something unintelligible.
Harry chuckled and gave a small wave. "Alright then. Seeyou later."
And with that, they split off, Harry heading toward the Headmaster's office while Neville and Hermione made their way toward the library.
….
September 13th, 1992 - Sunday, around 3 PM
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of an empty classroom where Harry, Neville, and Hermione had pushed all the desks and chairs to the sides. Their bags were piled neatly in the corner, leaving the room wide open — perfect for their dueling practice.
Harry was sitting on the floor, rubbing his stomach and breathing heavily. His face was flushed, and he looked absolutely worn out.
"Blimey… my stomach's killing me," he groaned, wincing. "I had no idea laughing this much could hurt."
Neville chuckled as he strolled toward them, his expression amused. "Well… you've got to admit, it was fun though, right?"
Harry gave him a tired grin. "Yeah… but I didn't expect to get a workout and a comedy show at the same time."
Hermione, sprawled out on the cool floor with her bushy hair fanned out around her, scowled up at Neville. "Easy for you to say," she huffed. "You weren't the one who got hit the most."
Neville laughed softly, crouching down beside them. "Oh, come off it, Hermione," he said with a teasing smile. "You weren't that bad. Besides…" He handed them both their water bottles. "This practice helps you learn when to dodge. And a weak shield's still better than no shield at all."
Hermione sighed, sitting up slowly and brushing dust off her robes. She gave Neville a small, grateful smile as she took the bottle. "Thanks, Neville."
Harry grabbed his bottle as well and gulped down a few mouthfuls. "Honestly…" he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'd rather get hit with Rictusempra a dozen more times than listen to Lockhart prattle on about himself for another hour."
Neville let out a chuckle as he plopped down beside them. "Too right," he murmured, shaking his head.
"Honestly," Hermione piped up, her tone a little too defensive. "He's not that bad… he's just… taking things slow."
Both Neville and Harry turned to give her the look.
Hermione immediately averted her gaze, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stared down at her bottle.
"Slow?" Harry echoed, his tone dripping with disbelief. "Hermione… the bloke spends more time talking about his hair than actually teaching us anything useful."
Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line, clearly torn between defending Lockhart and admitting the truth.
"Alright, fine," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe he's… a bit full of himself."
Neville and Harry exchanged a knowing look but wisely decided not to push further.
"Anyway," Neville said, trying to steer the conversation away. "We're getting better at Protego. I reckon a few more practices like this, and we'll be able to hold our shields for longer."
Harry nodded, his energy slowly returning. "Yeah… as long as we don't pass out from laughing first."
Hermione's lips twitched, fighting a smile, but she didn't argue.
They'd been practicing The Shield Charm (Protego), trying to strengthen their defense while dodging and blocking spells. To make it more challenging, they fired The Tickling Charm (Rictusempra) at each other. The goal was to either block the spell with Protego or dodge it altogether.
To make things interesting, Neville had suggested a point system — lose a point if you got hit, gain one if you successfully dodged or blocked with Protego. It turned the practice into a sort of game, but the stakes felt real.
The problem was, both Harry and Hermione were struggling. They could cast Protego, but it was draining. The best they'd managed so far was a weak shimmer that barely lasted a second before Rictusempra punched through and hit them.
Neville, however, was a different story. Over the summer, he had finally managed to cast a full-strength Protego — a feat that had surprised even his gran, Augusta. His shield was strong, solid… and definitely something Harry and Hermione were trying hard to match.
It had been two weeks since the start of their second year at Hogwarts — and two weeks since Harry had been called to Dumbledore's office.
After his meeting, Harry went straight to the library, where he found Hermione and Neville working on their assignments. They were tucked away on the second floor, sitting at the far end where it was quieter. Books, parchment, and ink bottles were scattered across the table.
Neville looked up when he heard footsteps approaching. It was Harry.
"Hey," Neville greeted with a small smile as Harry dropped into the empty chair beside Hermione.
"Hi, Harry," Hermione murmured, not looking up as she scribbled something onto her parchment. But her voice held a warm note of curiosity.
Harry didn't respond right away. Instead, he glanced around the library, making sure no one was within earshot.
Neville, sensing Harry's unease, pulled out his wand and cast a quick Muffliato charm. The soft buzzing sound filled the air around them, ensuring that no one nearby could eavesdrop.
"So…" Neville's tone was calm but curious. "What did Dumbledore want?"
HHarry sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Just… checking up on me," he muttered. "Wanted to know how I was doing. Asked about my summer — where I stayed."
Hermione frowned slightly, placing her quill down carefully. "So, he wanted to know where you'd spent the summer?" setting her quill down.
Harry nodded, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah. I told him I'd stayed with a friend, but he already knew I'd been at your place, Neville."
Neville nodded, not really surprised. "Yeah, figured he might've known."
Harry frowned slightly, leaning forward onto the table. "But there's more," he said quietly. "Dumbledore told me I've got to stay at the Dursleys' for at least four weeks every year."
Hermione frowned. "What? Why?"
Harry's expression darkened. "Something about my mum's protection." He exhaled slowly. "He said… the protection only works if I go back for part of the summer. Apparently, it keeps me safe from Voldemort and his followers."
Neville, who had been quiet, shook his head. "That doesn't make sense," he murmured, thinking aloud. "If I'm right… the protection comes from your mum sacrificing herself for you. That power's already there. It shouldn't matter where you are."
Harry gave him a tired look. "That's what I thought."
Neville's brow furrowed deeper. "Unless…" He paused, considering something. "Maybe there's a ward… built around the Dursleys' house? Using your mum's protection to extend it? That could be what's keeping the Death Eaters from finding you."
Harry looked thoughtful but unconvinced. "Maybe…" His voice trailed off, then he sighed again. "Honestly… I think he just wants to keep an eye on me." His jaw clenched slightly. "That's probably the real reason he insists I stay there."
Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line. "That's not fair," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, well… nothing about living with the Dursleys ever is." Harry's tone was dry, but there was an edge of bitterness underneath.
After that, things settled into their usual routine, though Snape's classes had become particularly dreadful. For some reason, Snape had suddenly ramped up his verbal jabs at Neville. Neville had a strong suspicion it was all because of what he'd said to Lucius Malfoy and the run-in he'd had with Draco at Platform 9¾.
Everything seemed fairly normal until last night, that is—it was late when it happened.
Neville was pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle shake on his shoulder.
"Hey… are you two okay?" Hermione's concerned voice brought both him and Harry back to the present.
"Huh?" Neville blinked, looking up at her, a little dazed. "Oh… yeah. Sorry, Hermione. Just… thinking."
Hermione huffed, crossing her arms as she gave them both a pointed look. "Honestly," she said, clearly annoyed. "What's gotten into you two? You've both been acting strange. All morning, you've been quiet and lost in thought."
Harry let out a long sigh, rubbing his face with one hand. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he murmured. "It's just… I've been thinking about… the voice I heard."
That caught Hermione's attention immediately. She blinked, her expression shifting from annoyed to concerned. "What voice?" she asked, sitting up straighter.
Neville scratched the back of his head, looking guilty. "Yeah… sorry about that. I forgot to tell you."
Hermione gave them both a sharp look. "Well?" she demanded. "Tell me now."
Harry glanced at Neville. before he began, "It was last night, After we split up with you… on the way back to the dorms. I heard… a voice."
Hermione's brow furrowed. "A voice?"
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "But weird part is only I heard it."
Hermione's eyes flicked to Neville, her expression questioning.
Neville shook his head. "Ron and I were with him," he said softly. "But we didn't hear a thing. Harry said he heard it twice, but both times… I didn't hear anything."
Hermione turned her attention back to Harry, her eyes narrowing. "What did it say, Harry?"
Harry sighed deeply, running his hand nervously through his hair. "It said, 'Come... come to me... let me rip you... let me tear you... let me kill you...'"
Hermione's eyes went wide with horror. "Are you sure that's what it said?"
Harry nodded grimly.
Hermione exchanged a worried glance with Neville, her mind already racing. "Could this… could this be what Dobby was warning you about?"
Neville gave a slow nod. "Yeah… that's what I was thinking," he murmured. "It has to be connected somehow."
Hermione looked uneasy now, her usual confidence shaken. "What should we do?" she asked softly. "It sounds like… whatever it is… it's out to kill."
Harry sighed again, his frustration showing. "We don't know, Hermione," he said quietly. "And it's not like we can go to the professors about it. I doubt they'd believe me. I mean… hearing voices?" His tone was bitter. "They'd think I was losing it."
Neville nodded, his expression serious. "For now, we should stick together," he said softly. "No wandering around alone. Whatever's out there… it's dangerous."
A heavy silence fell over them as the weight of what they'd just discussed settled in.
After a moment, Neville stood up, forcing a small smile. "We should get going," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Mind giving me a hand with the furniture?"
Hermione stood up as well, her wand already in hand. "Sure,"
With a flick of her wand, the desks and chairs began floating back into their original positions
They placed the desks and chairs back where they belonged, leaving the classroom looking exactly as they had found it. Satisfied, they left together, heading toward the Gryffindor common room.
Hermione, clearly trying to distract herself from her worries, started chatting as they walked. "I swear, I'm taking a long hot bath tonight," she said with a sigh. "Just soaking in the warm water for a bit sounds heavenly right now."
Harry, walking beside her, grinned. "I'm starving," he said. "Could go for some tea and biscuits right about now."
Neville smiled as he adjusted his sling bag. "Actually… I've got some of the brownies Gran sent me yesterday." He pulled out a small box and handed it to Harry. "Here."
Harry's eyes lit up, and he took the box gratefully. "Thanks, mate," he said with a genuine smile.
As they climbed the stairs and stepped onto the third floor, Neville suddenly stopped in his tracks.
His eyes locked onto someone walking down the hall ahead — Ginny Weasley.
Hermione was halfway up the next flight of stairs when she noticed Neville wasn't following. She stopped and turned, her brow furrowed. "Neville? Why did you stop?"
Harry, standing just behind her, glanced at Neville with a raised eyebrow.
Neville blinked, his mind racing. "Uh…" He looked back at them and forced a weak smile. "I think… I'll catch up with you guys. I need to… erm… go to the bathroom."
Harry frowned, clearly confused. "Huh? Why not just use the one in the dorms?"
Neville shifted uncomfortably, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag. "I've been holding it in for a while now," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "I… I don't think I can wait any longer. I'll see you guys back in the common room."
Before they could question him further, Neville turned and hurried off down the hall in the opposite direction.
Hermione and Harry watched him go, bemused. Hermione shook her head slightly. "He literally just told us not to wander around alone, and now he's gone off by himself."
Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Come on, Hermione. Let's wait for him in the common room."
Neville hurried down the hallway, his eyes fixed on the path Ginny had taken moments before. His heart pounded, but his steps remained light as he moved quickly.
He caught sight of her just as she rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. Without wasting another second, Neville slipped into an empty room to his left.
Inside, he swung his backpack around and quickly pulled out Harry's invisibility cloak, which he'd borrowed earlier. He draped it over himself, the fabric shimmering as it concealed him completely. His wand was already in hand, his grip tight.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath. "Let's do this."
Neville moved swiftly, his concealed form following the direction Ginny had gone. It didn't take long for him to catch up.
There she was — walking steadily, unaware of his presence.
Taking a deep breath, Neville raised his wand and silently cast, "Confundo."
The spell hit its mark. Ginny's steps slowed as her expression turned vacant, her eyes glazed over. She blinked slowly, then without hesitation, her arms dropped to her sides. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, landing on the stone floor with a dull thud.
In a trance, Ginny reached into her pockets, emptying them without question. A few sweets, a hairpin, and her wand clattered to the ground.
"Come on… where is it?" Neville thought anxiously, his eyes scanning everything she laid out.
But the diary wasn't there.
Neville's brow furrowed. No diary? That doesn't make sense.
Ginny stood, unmoving, waiting for further instructions — the effect of the Confundus still lingering.
Thinking quickly, Neville whispered, "Pick them up and go."
Ginny blinked once more, then slowly began gathering her things. She tucked the items back into her pockets and turned away, as she headed down the stairs.
Still under the Invisibility Cloak, he knelt and rummaged through the contents of her sling bag, his hands moving quickly but carefully.
"Where is it?" he muttered under his breath, his brow furrowed.
Quills… books… some parchment… a few Sickles… But no diary.
Neville's confusion deepened as he went through the bag again, this time slower. "Harry said he heard the basilisk yesterday… the diary should be with her by now…" But it wasn't.
Neville placed everything back exactly as he had found it, making sure not to disturb anything. He carefully set the bag down where Ginny had dropped it.
She'll come back for it as soon as the Confundus wears off, Neville thought. Better to let her find it naturally.
Still hidden under the Invisibility Cloak, Neville slipped back into the same empty room where he had hidden earlier.
He pulled the cloak off and paced, his mind racing.
"Where could the diary be? Did she leave it in her dorm?" He shook his head. 'No… that doesn't make sense. The diary should have latched onto her by now.'
Neville's thoughts drifted back to Flourish and Blotts. "Lucius…" He frowned, his mind piecing together the events from the summer. He remembered from the movies — Lucius Malfoy had slipped the diary into Ginny's cauldron when the Weasleys ran into him at the bookshop.
But then…
Neville's pacing stopped abruptly. His eyes narrowed as a sudden realisation hit him. "Wait… did Lucius even give Ginny the diary this time?"
Harry hadn't been there at Flourish and Blotts. If Harry wasn't there, Draco wouldn't have had a reason to make a scene.
"If that didn't happen…" Neville muttered aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. "That means… Lucius never gave Ginny the diary."
Neville's heart hammered in his chest. "Then… who has the diary?"
The realisation left Neville feeling even more uneasy. The timeline had shifted. And now… the danger was out there.
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