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Hogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 42
🕑 Added 2025-02-26 20:17:42 +0000 UTCHogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 42
They appeared with another crack in front of the gates of Longbottom Manor.
Neville had long since gotten used to the sensation of Apparition, but Harry—not so much. He was sprawled on the ground, looking like the world had just spun out from under him.
Neville walked over, grinning as he reached down to help him up. "You okay, mate?" he asked, barely holding back laughter. "Told you you’d love it."
Harry groaned, one hand clutching his stomach as he looked miserable, like he might hurl.
Augusta, already walking toward the gates, glanced back. "That’s how it is the first time. You’ll get used to it," she said smoothly. "I remember Neville being in the exact same condition the first time we Apparated."
Harry took a few deep breaths, slowly regaining his composure before grabbing the handle of his trunk and pulling it along.
As Augusta pushed open the gates, she turned back to him. "Welcome to Longbottom Manor, Mr. Potter."
Harry looked up—and his jaw dropped.
The manor was massive.
"It’s huge," he muttered, staring in awe.
…
Evening had settled over Longbottom Manor, casting a warm glow across the estate. The sky outside was painted in hues of deep orange and purple as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Inside his room, Neville sat at his study desk, surrounded by open books and scattered notes filled with his careful handwriting.
He was deeply engrossed in his research—trying to understand how potions could target specific parts of the body. In front of him were notes on Skele-Gro, a potion known for regenerating bones. Neville was studying its properties, trying to figure out how it affected only bones and not other parts of the body.
If he could unlock that secret, he could begin developing a potion that might heal the damaged parts of his parents' brains.
Leaning back in his chair, Neville threw his head up, staring at the ceiling in frustration.
"Man, this is harder than I thought," he muttered to himself. "I need to figure out a way to make a potion act only on a specific part of the brain… but how?"
Just then, a knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Huh?" Neville blinked.
"Hey, Neville, can I come in?" came Harry’s voice from the hallway.
Neville sat up. "Yeah, come in."
The door opened, and Harry stepped inside, glancing around. His eyes landed on the open potion books scattered across the desk.
"You’re still studying?" Harry asked, walking over. "Potions?"
Neville shook his head. "Something I’m working on," he replied vaguely before turning to Harry. "Did you need something? I thought you were too tired and wanted to sleep before dinner."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "It’s already evening. I was heading to dinner."
Neville frowned and glanced at the clock on the wall. His eyes widened slightly.
"What? Evening already?"
Stretching his arms, Neville stood up and yawned. "Man, it’s already seven o’clock? I didn’t even realize it was this late."
He yawned again before walking toward the door, Harry following behind.
"Were you asleep till just now?" Neville asked as they made their way down the hall.
Harry shook his head. "No, I woke up around five and did some homework."
"Finished with them?" Neville asked.
Harry sighed. "Still have Herbology and History of Magic left to do."
Neville nodded and smirked. "Good luck with that. I fell asleep when I was doing it."
It had been a week since Harry had been staying at Longbottom Manor.
The two of them had settled into a routine—waking up early for workouts, followed by spell practice.
In the afternoons, they flew around the estate on their brooms, enjoying the vast open space surrounding the manor.
Neville had found an old Comet 360 stored away in the house—one that had once belonged to his father. To his surprise, flying came naturally to him.
At first, Augusta had been apprehensive about letting him fly. after all the old Neville, had died falling of a broom.
But after watching him fly with confidence, she had reluctantly allowed it, though she always kept a close watch whenever he was in the air.
Aside from flying and training, Harry was also subjected to Neville’s etiquette and dancing lessons—a requirement Augusta had firmly insisted upon.
Much to Neville’s amusement, Harry had no choice but to attend.
While Harry grumbled about it, Augusta made it clear that as a guest in her home, proper wizarding manners were expected.
They soon reached the dining hall, where Augusta was already seated at the table, reading through a few documents.
As soon as she saw them enter, she set them aside and looked up. "Good evening, boys. I was just about to send Clippy to fetch you both for dinner."
Neville walked over and took his seat beside her. "Hey, Gran," he greeted. "How’s your day been?"
Harry sat down across from Neville, shifting slightly. "Good evening, ma’am," he said, a bit sheepishly.
Augusta waved a hand dismissively. "How many times do I have to tell you, Harry? Just call me Gran."
Harry rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, sorry, Mrs. Lon—I mean, Gran," he corrected quickly. "It’s a force of habit."
Augusta gave a small nod before turning to Neville. "The usual—meetings with the managers and supervisors, checking to make sure everything is running properly," she said, taking a sip of her tea.
She then studied Neville for a moment before humming in thought. "I should take you with me one of these days," she said. "You need to start learning about the family businesses. I won’t be around forever to manage them, and one day, you’ll have to take over."
Neville sighed and shook his head. "Don’t say that, Gran. Besides, you’re only fifty-eight. I’ve read that witches and wizards can easily live past a hundred," he pointed out. "But as for learning about the business, I’d be happy to."
Augusta nodded approvingly. "That’s good to hear," she said. "But let’s leave it for next summer. You should enjoy this one with your friends."
Just then, Tinkle appeared with dinner. The plates floated to the table with practiced ease, settling in front of them.
It was English roast again, and Neville thought to himself, I really need to get some recipe books.
As they ate, Augusta glanced between them. "So, what were you boys up to while I was gone?"
Neville shrugged. "Not much," he said between bites. "We exercised in the morning, then practiced some spells. After that, we flew around the manor for a while. Later in the evening, Harry said he was feeling tired and wanted to sleep, so I did some studying while waiting for dinner."
Augusta then turned to Harry. "And you, Harry? Did you sleep the whole evening?" she asked curiously.
Augusta turned to Harry. "And you, Harry? Did you sleep the whole evening?"
Harry shook his head. "No, ma’—Gran," he corrected quickly. "It was just a short nap. I did some homework afterward."
Augusta nodded before turning to Neville. "And what about you, Neville? Have you finished your homework as well?"
Neville nodded. "Yeah, Hermione and I finished it before the summer break."
"Smart of you to get it done early," Augusta said approvingly.
As they continued eating, she turned back to Harry. "Tomorrow, Neville and I will be visiting his parents at the hospital. Would you like to come along? It’s fine if you’d prefer to stay here."
Harry looked caught off guard. "Um… I wouldn’t want to intrude, ma’am."
Neville, swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes, glanced at him. "Speaking of parents, have you ever visited yours?"
Harry blinked in confusion. "Huh? No… I can’t. You know… they’re gone."
Neville sighed. "I meant visited their graves—you know, paying your respects."
Harry’s eyes widened slightly. "No, I… I haven’t thought about that."
Augusta shook her head. "That won’t do, young man. They gave their lives to protect you. The least you could do is visit their resting place."
Harry looked down, his fingers tightening slightly around his fork. "It’s just… last year was so overwhelming," he admitted. "I didn’t even know my parents were wizards. I didn’t even know the wizarding world existed. The Dursleys always told me they were drunks who died in a car crash. I guess… it just slipped my mind."
Augusta sighed, her expression softening slightly. "It’s not too late to visit them," she said gently. Then, after a moment of thought, she tapped her chin. "What do you say, Harry? We can stop by Godric’s Hollow and pay your respects before heading to St. Mungo’s to visit Neville’s parents."
Harry hesitated. "I… I don’t want to inconvenience you, Mrs. Longbottom."
Augusta shook her head. "Nonsense. It’s no inconvenience at all," she assured him. Then she raised an eyebrow. "And didn’t I ask you to call me Gran?"
Harry nodded quickly. "Thank you… Gran," he said, his voice sincere.
Augusta shook her head. "Nonsense. It’s no inconvenience. And didn’t I ask you to call me Gran?"
Harry nodded quickly. "Thank you, Gran."
She waved off his thanks.
They finished dinner and moved on to dessert.
After a while of talking, Augusta let out a tired sigh and pushed back her chair. "Well, boys, I’m knackered. I’m heading to bed," she said, standing up. Then, she turned to Neville and gave him a pointed look. "And you, I think you’ve had enough ice cream for one night."
Neville, still with a spoon in his mouth, looked up at her with wide eyes. "Aw, come on, Gran, just one more scoop? You know I can’t get this at Hogwarts!"
She sighed in exasperation but relented. "Fine. But just one more," she said, turning to Tinkle. "After this scoop, no more."
With that, she left the dining hall.
Neville grinned as he watched her leave. "Thanks, Gran!"
Across the table, Harry smirked. "So, when did Hermione say she’d be coming over?"
Neville took another bite of ice cream before answering. "I think next week. And when she’s here, we should go watch a movie or something. Entertainment in the magical world is kinda boring," he said, shaking his head. "Though, knowing her, she’ll want to go straight to Diagon Alley for the second-year books as soon as they send us our school letters."
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, she might just drag us there first."
Finishing the last of his ice cream, Neville placed his spoon down and stood up. "Alright, we should go practice Occlumency before bed."
Harry stood as well, and just as they were about to leave the dining hall, a loud commotion came from the kitchen.
Neville and Harry exchanged glances.
Neville put a finger to his lips, signaling for Harry to stay quiet.
They listened. There was the sound of pans and pots crashing to the ground, followed by muffled grunts and scuffling.
Neville pulled out his wand and cautiously approached the kitchen door. Carefully, he pushed it open and stepped inside, his wand raised.
Inside, three house-elves were fighting—two of them ganging up on one.
The small creatures were rolling around on the floor, punching, kicking, and pulling each other’s ears.
Neville immediately recognized two of them—Tinkle and Clinky, his family’s house-elves.
The third, however, was someone he didn’t recognize.
Neville immediately raised his wand and cast, "Immobulus!"
All three house-elves froze mid-fight, their limbs locked in place. Without hesitation, Neville pointed at the unfamiliar elf and cast, "Stupefy!"
The unknown elf slumped to the floor, unconscious.
To be sure, Neville followed up with "Incarcerous," ropes materializing and binding the stunned elf securely.
Now that everything had settled, Neville finally got a good look at the unfamiliar house-elf. Unlike Tinkle and Clinky, who wore clean tunics, this one was dressed in a worn, ragged pillowcase.
Neville’s eyes widened as he immediately recognized who it was in his thoughts: "This must be Dobby."
Keeping his wand at the ready, Neville waved it again and muttered, "Finite Incantatem."
Tinkle and Clinky shook off the effects of the Immobulus, both looking anxiously at Neville.
He gestured toward the bound elf. "Alright, what’s going on? Who is this?"
Tinkle and Clinky exchanged nervous glances before Clinky spoke first, their voice trembling. "We are sorry, young master Nevy. We don’t know who this is! He showed up and started stealing Harry Potter’s mail for the past two days! We finally caught him!"
Harry's eyes widened. "My mail? He’s the one messing with my letters?"
Neville shrugged slightly and nodded at Tinkle and Clinky. "Good job catching him. I’ll take care of it. Just don’t tell Gran about this, okay? I’ll explain later."
The elves nodded obediently before disappearing with two small pops!
Neville then turned back to Harry. "Well, now we know what happened to all the letters we sent you."
Harry clenched his fists. "Did Dumbledore send him? Was this to make sure I didn’t get mail from my friends?"
Neville shrugged. "Only one way to find out."He pointed his wand at the bound elf and cast, "Enervate."
The house-elf jerked awake with a jolt, its eyes blinking as it took in its surroundings. Finally, its gaze landed on Harry and Neville, and in a high-pitched, excited voice it cried out,
"Harry Potter! So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir... such an honour it is..."
Harry and Neville exchanged a look before Harry managed a quiet, "Umm, thank you."
Neville crossed his arms and fixed the elf with a sharp gaze. "What’s your name, and what are you doing here in Longbottom Manor?"
The house-elf turned to him, his large eyes blinking rapidly. "Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," he said, bowing slightly.
Harry frowned. "Dobby, why were you taking my letters?"
Dobby’s ears drooped, and he shuffled nervously. "Harry Potter mustn’t be angry with Dobby—Dobby did it for the best…" he said earnestly. "Harry Potter mustn’t be angry… Dobby hoped… if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him… Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir…"
Neville sighed and released the Incarcerous spell with a flick of his wand. "Where are the letters?"
Dobby hesitated for a moment, then reached into the inside of the filthy pillowcase he was wearing and pulled out a thick wad of envelopes.
Harry snatched them up and quickly sifted through them—letters from Hermione, Neville, Ron, and even Hagrid.
As Harry checked through the stack, Neville narrowed his eyes at the elf. "Do you work for Dumbledore?"
Dobby shook his head rapidly. "Dobby wishes—oh, how Dobby wishes—Dobby worked for the great wizard Dumblydore!"
Harry looked up sharply. "Then who do you work for?"
Dobby’s whole body stiffened as if an invisible force had suddenly grabbed him. He shook his head violently. "Dobby can’t say who Dobby works for!"
Neville and Harry exchanged a glance.
Then, Dobby leaned in close, his wide eyes gleaming. "Dobby heard tell," he whispered hoarsely, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time, just weeks ago… that Harry Potter escaped yet again."
Harry stiffened. "Uh… yeah," he muttered, unsure of what else to say. He exchanged another uncertain glance with Neville before nodding.
Dobby’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Ah, sir!" he gasped, dabbing his face with the filthy corner of his pillowcase. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later…"
Harry frowned, his concern growing. "Warn me? Warn me of what?"
Neville, arms still crossed, asked, "You don’t want Harry to go back to Hogwarts?"
"Yes!" squeaked Dobby, nodding so hard his large ears flapped. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe! He is too great, too good, to lose! If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."
Harry frowned. "Why?" he asked, caught off guard.
Dobby trembled all over, lowering his voice to a whisper. "There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make the most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"
"What terrible things?" Harry demanded immediately. "Who’s plotting them?"
Dobby let out a funny choking noise, then suddenly banged his head madly against the floor.
Neville sighed and shook his head. "He can’t tell us, Harry. He’s bound by magic."
Harry clenched his fists. "All right!" he said, exasperated. "You can’t say, I understand. But why are you warning me?"
A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on—this doesn’t have anything to do with Dumbledore, does it?"
Dobby’s head tilted dangerously close to the wall again, but Harry quickly added, "You could just shake or nod."
Slowly, Dobby shook his head. "Not—not Dumblydore, sir."
Harry exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his messy hair, frustration clear on his face.
Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry. "Harry Potter, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts, Dobby will never disturb Harry Potter again!"
Harry was about to speak, but Neville cut in first. "All right," he said smoothly. "I’ll make sure Harry doesn’t go back to Hogwarts. But in return, I don’t want you coming back into Longbottom Manor again or stealing Harry’s letters."
Harry turned to Neville in shock, wondering what he was doing.
Neville gave him a quick wink.
Harry hesitated, then nodded along. "Alright," he said. "I won’t go to Hogwarts."
Dobby jumped up excitedly. "Thank you, sirs! Thank you!"
Neville waved a hand. "Alright, alright. Now leave."
Dobby gave one last excited nod before popping away with a crack.
The moment he was gone, Harry sighed and turned to Neville. "Do you think it’s Dumbledore? Is he trying to test me like last term?"
Neville shook his head. "I don’t think so. Dobby did say it wasn’t Dumbledore."
Comments
f_2004_nashef
Thx for the chapter
David Zimmerle
I hope Harry takes the time to get checked by an actual healer while he is at St. Mungo's.
Austin
Thanks for the update
