Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 84
He paused, then added thoughtfully, "I think these graphorns were rescued at some point, but they've probably been out of contact with humans for over a century. To them, we're strangers—maybe even threats—especially when their young are involved."
Hermione swallowed hard, still shaken.
Neville straightened, his voice firm. "That's why we need to keep this place secret. If word got out… well, imagine if Malfoy and his father ever discovered it. These creatures wouldn't stand a chance."
Harry grimaced at the thought, nodding.
"And another thing," Neville went on. "We shouldn't come here alone. Always bring someone with you. That means you, too, Luna." He glanced at her seriously. "It's too dangerous. We don't know what else lives in this vivarium. If you need a quiet space, use the other room—just don't use this one."
Luna nodded. "Understood."
Harry let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, well—I think I'll stick to the other room. Less chance of getting flattened."
Neville then glanced at the clock set into the stone wall. It was just past four. He turned to Hermione. "How about we go and take a look at Alric's library before dinner? Might be a calmer way to end the day."
Hermione gave a watery smile, still clutching his sleeve. "I'd like that."
…
Monday, 22nd February 1993 – Dungeon's
The dungeon classroom was quiet, save for the soft sounds of bubbling cauldrons and the grinding of mortar and pestle . Snape prowled between the rows with his arms crossed, sharp eyes flicking from potion to potion.
Everyone worked alone today. The task was to brew a Strengthening Solution without using their textbooks—an evaluation of their memory, skill, and precision.
Of course, the one exception was Ron Weasley. He sat two rows ahead, his battered potions book open flat on the desk. Snape hadn't sneered or mocked him for it; he'd simply announced to the whole class, "Mr Weasley's… condition requires leniency," and moved on.
Draco Malfoy had smirked wide enough to split his face.
In the middle row, Neville shared a bench with Tracey Davis, each working on their own cauldron.
He leaned over his brew, studying the colour. It looked right. He gave a small nod. "Alright—five drops of gillywater," he muttered to himself. He uncorked a vial, drew up the liquid with a dropper, and let five drops fall into the bubbling potion.
At once, the frothing stilled, the bubbles shrinking until it settled into a steady simmer.
"Good," Neville murmured. "Next—shredded knotgrass."
He picked up the knotgrass, sprinkled in the shredded strands, and stirred once, carefully. The potion shifted to a pale green.
'Perfect,' Neville thought, glancing at the clock. "Now let that simmer for five minutes before the powdered griffin claws go in." He set a small brass timer for five minutes and pulled the griffin claws closer.
Taking up a mortar and pestle, he began grinding. The claws cracked and broke down, slowly turning into a fine powder as neville grinded it.
"Alright…" he muttered, brushing the powder onto a slip of parchment. He measured out a careful scoop, then tipped it into the cauldron.
The brew hissed and darkened, shifting into a deeper green.
Neville stirred a few more times, and The colour brightened, thinning into a light turquoise.
He smiled faintly. "That's it." He lowered the flame until the potion was barely bubbling. "Now simmer for fifteen minutes." Setting his timer again, he leaned back and began tidying his station—wiping down stray flecks of powder and the scattered ingrediance.
He'd only just finished cleaning his desk.
BANG!
A loud pop echoed through the classroom. A nearby cauldron frothed wildly, spilling over the edge and cascading down the desk. The potion sizzled as it ate into the wood. Students nearby shrieked and scrambled back, chairs screeching across the stone floor.
Snape swooped down on the mess, cloak billowing, and with a sharp flick of his wand the spilled potion vanished in a puff of smoke. He rounded on Ron at once.
"Weasley!" he barked. "The instructions clearly state not to pour in the quills whole! You were meant to slice them first. Are you so empty-headed you can't follow the most basic directions?"
Ron stammered, red-faced.
From the Slytherin side of the room, Draco and his cronies snickered loudly, enjoying every second.
Snape's eyes narrowed, and he suddenly turned to the desk just behind Ron. Harry froze under the weight of that glare.
"And you, Potter," Snape sneered. "Why didn't you stop him? Thought letting your friend make a fool of himself would make you look better, did you?"
Harry bristled. "I was—"
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape cut across him coldly, already turning back to Ron.
Ron, still fumbling to salvage his work, Snape loomed over him again, his voice dripping with scorn. "Pathetic. Every mistake you make proves my point—you are utterly hopeless."
Draco's laughter echoed again.
Snape's lip curled. "Here I thought you might have improved after losing your memories. Clearly, I was mistaken. You're even worse than before. Pitiful, really." He sneered down at ron. "Do try to keep your incompetence from poisoning the entire class, Weasley."
Neville, two rows back, shook his head slightly. He knew better than to get involved. Ron had only just returned yesterday after spending a week at home, and things between him and the others hadn't been the same.
When he'd come back, Ron had tried to talk to Harry, Hermione, and Neville in the common room. But they'd kept their answers short, excusing themselves quickly with, "We've got something to do." After that, they'd avoided him the rest of the evening, slipping away to the Room of Requirement instead.
This morning had been no different. Neville, Harry, and Hermione had left the dorms early before Ron even stirred, keeping up the routine they'd built last week—morning exercise before breakfast, now that curfew restrictions had been lifted.
Neville shook his head, ignoring snape being snape he glanced at the timer on and saw there was still around Ten minutes left.
He reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook, flipping it open to where he'd left off earlier. With a pencil in hand, he began scribbling again, continuing the line of runes and calculations he'd been working on before class started.
It had been a week since Neville and Hermione had nearly been trampled by that massive mother Grabhorn. And right after the close call, as Neville had suggested, they'd gone straight to the library that Alaric Thorne had collected over his time at Hogwarts.
"Hey, Jibber, none of these books are cursed, right?" Neville had asked as they stepped inside, eyes scanning the books on the shelves
Jibber puffed out his chest with pride. "No cursed books, student sir!"
Neville gave a nod. "That's good, 'cause one near-death experience a day's more than enough," he muttered.
Hermione, as usual, was the most eager. She had already moved ahead, pulling down anything that caught her eye—books on Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. and as neville had wanted, It gave Hermione something to keep her mind off nearly being flattened by a magical beast.
Harry had picked out a book on defensive magic, flipping through the pages with a curious frown.
Luna, meanwhile, found a worn old Charms book with moving diagrams. She plopped down cross-legged in the middle of the aisle and started reading right there.
Neville, though, was after something else. He wanted books on magical medicine. After combing through a few shelves, he found two that stood out.
The first one, Wounds of the Unseen: A Healer's Guide to Cursed Flesh, was written in 1831 by Coltis Newthorn. supprising, the books went dusty and well kept. Neville skimmed through it; he found a few useful spells and insights.
Turns out, if a dark curse cut deep enough—like a full amputation—there was no real way to regrow the limb. Even with regrowing potions, it could bring it back. But if it was only a gash or a cursed slice, it could be healed... though it would always leave scars.
'That… would explain why Moody never grew back his leg or his eye,' Neville thought, the realization clicking into place.
Neville also found one more book in the back corner of the shelf—thin, worn, and bound in cracked leather. He flipped it open carefully. The title was etched faintly on the inside cover: The Humours of Healing: Potioneering and the Body.
It was old. Really old. From the 1600s, judging by the language and the yellowed pages.
But this—this was exactly what he'd been looking for.
The book didn't just list potion recipes like the modern ones did. It went into real detail. Ingredient by ingredient, how each one affected the body—not just in general, but how it could be adjusted to work on specific body parts.
'This is it... I need this.' Neville sat down at one of the reading tables and kept going.
He needed a way to make a potion that could target the amygdala. If there was any hope of healing his parents, it would have to be something that didn't affect the rest of the brain—just that one small part.
But as he kept reading, Neville's shoulders sagged slightly.
The writing was dense, filled with terms he didn't understand. Half of it sounded more like a medical thesis than a potions book.
'This is way too advanced… I'm not even close to being ready for this.' He sighed, rubbing his temple.
That's when he knew—if he was going to make any progress, he'd have to start learning magical healing properly. At least the fundamentals.
So, he went looking for another subject. Something else to work on while building up to the medical side of things. That's when the last book caught his eye.
It was called Foundations of Runes and Arithmancy: The Key to Permanent Enchantments.
Neville's eyes lit up a little as he flipped through it. The notes and diagrams inside were familiar—not because he'd studied them here, but because they reminded him of stuff from his old life. Schematics, equations, and power distribution.
He was designing a rune matrix—something simple at first—a rune light array.
'Like magical LEDs,' he thought with a smirk.
He jotted some notes down in his own notebook, filling a page with clean lines and small, neat symbols. A basic array, modular, scalable, something he could mount anywhere and power by ambient magic.
He hated how behind the wizarding world was. It felt like they were stuck in the bloody 1890s. Sure, they had the Hogwarts Express and enchanted trunks, but most magical homes still used open fire lamps or actual fireplaces for lighting.
In the movies, it had seemed like the wizarding world had electric-style lamps—warm, soft lighting in every room. But maybe that was just movie magic, to make it easier to shoot scenes. Or maybe J.K. just hadn't thought about it much.
But here, in the world Neville lived in now, it was all lanterns, fire torches, or glowing magical insects like the ones Newt Scamander used in Fantastic Beasts.
He wasn't even sure if it was just England or the whole magical world that was like this—but either way, he planned on changing it.
That's why he'd been working on a diffused rune array—something like a magical LED panel. A setup you could mount to a wall, glowing evenly, the way fluorescent tubes or LED ceiling lights do
He was going to bring proper lighting to the magical world.
Which brought things back to what Neville was currently sketching in his notebook.
Neville was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt someone nudge his foot under the desk.
He looked up, confused, only to see Tracey Davis giving him a quick look. Before he could say anything, a shadow loomed over him.
Snape.
The professor yanked Neville's notebook right off the desk, sneering. "Well, well… what do we have here, Longbottom? Cheating, are we?"
Neville sighed, already exasperated. "No, sir."
Snape flipped the notebook open, his eyes narrowing as he skimmed the runes and arithmancy scribbles. "What is this? Think you're too good for Potions now, Longbottom? Mocking us with your little rune-scribbles? As if potions are so easy you don't even need to pay attention?"
Neville kept his voice calm. "No, professor. I was just waiting—my potion still needed to simmer."
As if on cue, the timer on his desk gave a sharp ring. Neville gestured toward the cauldron, calmly extinguished the flame with a flick of his wand, and stirred three times. The mixture turned the correct shade.
"I'm done," he said simply. Then, glancing at Snape, "May I have my book back?"
Snape scowled down at the finished potion, clearly annoyed that nothing had gone wrong. With a sneer, he dropped the notebook back onto Neville's desk. "Barely passable," he spat. "And twenty points from Gryffindor. Don't let me catch you scribbling during class again."
His cloak swished dramatically as he stalked off.
Neville sighed, closed his book, and slipped it back into his pocket. He leaned slightly toward Tracey. "Thanks for the warning," he murmured.
Tracey gave him a small smile. "He seems even harsher than usual today, doesn't he? Any idea why?"
Neville shrugged, though inside he knew the answer. "Not a clue."
As he ladled his potion into a vial, Tracey tilted her head. "So… what were you writing, anyway? You looked completely lost in it."
"Oh, just some runes," Neville said.
Tracey blinked. "Runes? But we don't even start that until next year. You're already learning it?" She extinguished her own flame as her potion finished simmering.
Neville nodded, corking his vial. "I just… find it interesting."
With that, he flicked his wand, emptying his cauldron and cleaning the utensils with a neat Scourgify.
Neville nodded as he corked his vial. "I just find it interesting," he said quietly.
With a flick of his wand, his cauldron emptied itself, the remaining dregs vanishing with a hiss. Another flick and all his utensils gleamed clean. Scourgify.
He glanced at Tracey. "I'm going to return the tools and the leftover ingredients. Want me to take yours as well?"
Tracey looked up from her cauldron and smiled. "You'd do that? Oh, thank you. That'd be really helpful." She turned back to stir her potion, checking the color carefully.
Neville nodded, gathered her utensils along with the spare ingredients, and stood. As Tracey ladled her potion into a vial, he carried the lot to the supply racks at the side of the room. He set the cleaned tools neatly back in their places and tossed the unused ingredients onto the tray.
Just then, Hermione appeared at his side, placing her own cleaned utensils on the rack. "What did Professor Snape want with you this time?" she asked, lowering her voice.
Neville shrugged. "Caught me writing in my notebook. Thought I was cheating, so he deducted points."
He held up his finished vial, turquoise liquid shimmering inside. "Pretty good, I think… but I'm sure he won't give me anything higher than an Acceptable."
Before Hermione could answer, the bell rang shrilly through the dungeon.
"Time's up!" Snape barked from the back of the room. "Bring your completed potions to the front. Name labels visible."
Neville and Hermione moved together to the rack, placing their vials carefully in the rows, their names already marked on the glass.
A moment later, Harry joined them, placing his vial beside theirs. The three of them then returned to their desks to gather their things before heading out.
The Gryffindors and Slytherins filed out of the dungeon together, chatter picking up now that the lesson was over.
Harry stretched his arms as they walked. "So—where do you guys want to go?"
"Let's go to our spot, we've got homework to get through, and I still haven't finished reading the book," Hermione began.
Neville rubbed his stomach. "I'm starving. Can we stop by the kitchens first? Just a quick bite before we start anything?"
Hermione frowned at him. "Honestly, Neville, we just had lunch a few hours ago."
Before Neville could reply, a sudden thud echoed behind them.
They turned just in time to see Ron on the floor, Malfoy smirking above him.
"Oh—sorry there, Weasley," Draco drawled, his voice thick with mockery.
Ron scrambled up, face red. "You did that on purpose!"
Draco tilted his head innocently. "And what if I did, Weasley?"
"Then you're a prat," Ron shot back, brushing off his robes.
Draco's smirk widened. "Heard you lost all your memories. So it's true, then? You and that buffoon Lockhart—both brainless now? Not that you had one to begin with."
The Slytherins around him laughed loudly. Crabbe and Goyle nearly doubled over.
Ron's fists clenched. "Shut it, Malfoy."
"Figures," Draco went on, his voice carrying over the laughter. "First your memories, now your balance. What's next—your family's dignity?"
Seamus hurried forward to help Ron up. "sod off, Malfoy."
But Draco ignored him, leaning in closer to Ron. "Oh, that's right—the Weasleys don't have any dignity to lose. Your lot can't even afford proper treatment anyway."
"Leave him alone," Harry warned, stepping forward.
Draco turned his sneer on him. "Don't think I haven't noticed, Potter. You've been avoiding Weasley. Maybe—" His words cut off in an instant.
Neville had sighed, lifted a hand, and snapped his fingers. Malfoy's mouth snapped shut, silencing him.
The blonde froze, eyes bulging. He clawed at his face in panic, hands flying over to his mouth. His muffled, strangled sounds made the laughter die instantly.
Neville exhaled. "Draco, you really can't keep your mouth shut for long, can you?"
Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, cracking their knuckles threateningly, trying to cover Draco's panic.
Neville raised an eyebrow at them. "You two really want to do this?"
Hermione already had her wand out. So did Harry. Several Gryffindors behind them followed suit, wands raised in warning.
Draco yanked Crabbe and Goyle back, still fuming. He shot Neville a venomous glare before storming off toward the dungeons, no doubt straight to Snape's classroom.
The corridor quieted as the Gryffindors regrouped.
Ron brushed himself off, frowning in confusion. "Who is that prat, anyway? Why's he so set on picking a fight with me? Did I… do something to him?"
Seamus shrugged. "Well, Ron, you and Malfoy haven't exactly seen eye to eye since last year."
Neville gave a short laugh. "That's an understatement, Seamus." He looked at Ron. "He's kind of like your eternal enemy. You two just… clash."
Ron blinked, still puzzled. "Why, though?"
Neville shrugged. "Who knows? You both started sniping at each other out of nowhere. Though—I did hear both your dads hated each other, so maybe that's part of it."
Ron's frown deepened, but Neville waved it off. "Well, anyway, we should—"
He stopped when someone cleared their throat behind him.
All of them turned.
Standing there were Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis.
Harry, Hermione, and Neville all looked surprised.
"Good afternoon, Potter. Longbottom. Granger," Daphne said coolly.
Tracey smiled and gave them a friendly wave. "Hey, guys."
Neville blinked in surprise. "Oh—hey, Daphne. Tracey."
Hermione offered a polite smile. "Good afternoon, Daphne, Tracey.
Harry eyed them cautiously. "Uh… hi. Do you need something?"
Daphne inclined her head. "Yes. We'd like to speak with you." She glanced around at the lingering Gryffindors and Slytherins before adding, "In private."
Neville frowned. "Us?" He pointed to himself, Harry, and Hermione.
Daphne nodded. "Unless you'd rather leave Granger out of it."
Neville looked at Hermione, who gave him a sharp glare that said Don't you dare.
Harry asked, "Is this about the Cham—"
"Yes," Daphne cut him off firmly.
Neville sighed, then shrugged. "Alright, we can spare a few minutes. Where to?" He stood, brushing off his robes.
"I know an empty classroom," Daphne replied.
Without another word, the group followed her down the corridor, eventually slipping into a disused room on the first floor.
They headed to a disused classroom on the first floor.
As soon as they stepped inside, Daphne turned toward them. "First, I—"
"Hold on a second," Neville cut in. He flicked his wand and muttered, "Muffliato."
At once, the faint background sounds of the castle vanished into silence.
He nodded. "Alright. Now you can start."
Daphne tilted her head. "What charm was that?"
"Huh? Oh—that. It's a privacy charm," Neville explained. "Prevents anyone from eavesdropping outside."
Daphne's expression sharpened with interest. "That's a rather useful spell."
Tracey blinked. "I've never even heard of a charm that can do that. Where did you learn it?"
Neville shrugged. "From Professor Flitwick. I asked him last year if there were any charms to block out listeners. He taught me that one. If you want to learn it, you should go to him."
Tracey nodded slowly, impressed.
Harry had already hopped onto one of the desks, folding his arms. "So Daphne, why did you want to talk to us?"
Daphne met their eyes seriously. "First of all, I want to thank you three for saving me and Astoria from the Heir of Slytherin."
Hermione spoke up quickly. "And you don't have to thank me. I didn't really do much anyway."
"Yeah," Harry added. "We didn't really do much."
"Regardless," Daphne said firmly, "if it weren't for you three, my sister and I wouldn't be alive right now. So I wanted to thank you again."
Neville waved her off. "You already thanked us last week." His eyes flicked toward Tracey. "You told her what happened?"
Daphne nodded. "Yes. Tracey knows… though not all of it."
Neville gave a short nod in return.
She dipped into a graceful curtsey, bowing her head. "Thank you for curing Astoria, Longbottom. For that, the Greengrass family is indebted to you all."
She straightened, her expression softening. "Both Madam Pomfrey and my family's healer tested Astoria thoroughly. They confirmed your solution works."
Her voice wavered slightly before she steadied herself. "You might not realize how much that means to my family. We've carried that curse for generations without a cure. Thanks to you, Astoria will be able to live a normal life. So… thank you, Longbottom."
Neville scratched the back of his head, suddenly awkward and not sure what to say.
Then Daphne added, almost as if it slipped out, "Just a heads-up—Astoria may seek you out to thank you personally later. She… couldn't stop talking about you all last week."
Neville gave a half-smile, rubbing his neck again. "You really don't have to thank me. Honestly, I wasn't even sure it would work. It could've gone wrong—we were just lucky it didn't."
"Regardless," Daphne pressed, her tone firm, "my father mentioned he intends to recommend you for the Order of Merlin."
Tracey's eyes widened. "Wait—the Order of Merlin? Wouldn't that make you one of the youngest ever to receive it?"
Hermione's face lit up, pride in her voice as she nodded. "Not just one of the youngest—it would actually make him the youngest."
Neville shifted slightly. "Eh… I don't really think that's necessary, Daphne." He rubbed the back of his head, looking awkward. "Just… keep Lumina a secret, and we'll call it even. Actually, I wanted to talk to you and Astoria about that. And, well… now that includes you too, Tracey. Can you all keep her existence a secret? Phoenixes are rare enough, but a blue one? That'll only draw the wrong kind of attention. I'd really appreciate it if you, Tracey, and Astoria kept it quiet."
Daphne nodded without hesitation. "You have my word. I'll tell Astoria later to keep it a secret."
Tracey nodded
Neville smiled in relief. "Thanks."
Daphne's eyes softened, but then she straightened again, her expression measured. "On the topic of Lumina… I didn't just ask to speak with you to say thank you. I also wanted to ask—would it be possible to buy phoenix tears from you?"
Neville blinked, then shrugged. "I'd have to ask Lumina first. If she's alright with it… and you don't have to pay for it. Just bring some treats, Lumina."
Daphne's eyes widened slightly. "Do you even know how much phoenix tears are worth? And you're just going to give them away for free?"
Neville waved her off. "It's not like I need it." The truth was—Neville really didn't need the money.
Because in the past week, he had stumbled onto something remarkable inside Alaric's hidden room. Jibber showed him the massive stockpile the house-elves had been keeping for over a century—enchanted chests filled to bursting with rare magical creature parts: occamy eggshells, grabhorn horns, water serpent horns, and more. It was a hidden treasure trove, enough to last several lifetimes.
If you wish to support this story, please join me at patreon.com/Tilct
please contribute some power stone