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Hogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 33
🕑 Added 2025-01-23 17:30:27 +0000 UTCHogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 33
Harry hesitated, his determination faltering slightly. “But if we get caught, you three will be expelled, too,” he said, looking at them with concern.
Neville shook his head, annoyed. ‘Yeah, like Dumbledore’s going to expel you,’ rolling his eyes. ‘I’m afraid you’re the center of his plans, Harry, so don’t worry about that, And as for us, he probably wants his golden boy to have a few friends who can help.’
Neville sighed, leaning back against the armchair and rubbing his temple. “Anyway, Hogwarts isn’t the only magical school in the world. If we get expelled, we’ll just have to apply somewhere else. I’ve heard there’s a school in France.”
Ron looked at Neville like he’d grown a second head. “You’re joking,” he said flatly.
Neville shrugged. “I’m not. It’s called Beauxbatons. There’s another one in Eastern Europe somewhere—Durmstrang, I think? Hogwarts isn’t the be-all and end-all of magical education, you know.”
Hermione looked thoughtful, but Harry still looked unconvinced. “We’re not getting expelled,” she said firmly. “We’re going to stop Snape, or whoever it is, from getting the Stone.”
Neville sighed again, running a hand through his hair. ‘This is going to end badly,’ he thought. “Fine,” he said aloud,
…
Neville stood at the back of the group, panting slightly as he adjusted Hermione on his back. She clung to his shoulders as he crouched low, the group huddling together under Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. It was a tight squeeze, and the cloak barely covered all of them as they shuffled quietly down the corridor leading to the third-floor door.
They had just narrowly avoided Peeves, who was humming to himself as he floated by, and Mrs. Norris, who had sneezed loudly before slinking off into the shadows.
When they finally reached the door to the forbidden corridor, Neville crouched lower to let Hermione climb off his back. Straightening, he helped her steady herself before lifting the cloak off them. As the fabric slipped away, the group could see the door ahead of them—slightly ajar.
“Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly, his voice tense. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.”
Neville rolled his eyes. “So, how long are we just going to stand here for?” he asked, his tone dry as he crossed his arms.
Harry didn’t respond immediately, his face pale as he turned to look at the others. “If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You can take the cloak—I won’t need it now.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ron said sharply, stepping forward. “We’re coming.”
“We’re all in this together,” Hermione added firmly, brushing off her cloths.
Neville sighed, already regretting his decision to follow along. Without another word, he moved to the door and peeked through the small gap. Inside, he could see Fluffy, the massive three-headed dog, lying on the floor. Its chest rose and fell with deep, rumbling breaths as it slept, lulled by the soft melody of a harp.
Neville pushed the door open slightly, careful not to make too much noise. “He’s asleep,” he whispered over his shoulder. “Come on.”
He led the way into the room, stepping lightly on the stone floor. The door creaked slightly as they entered, and a low growl rumbled from one of Fluffy’s throats. The three massive heads stirred, noses twitching madly as they caught a hint of the intruders’ scent.
“What’s that at its feet?” Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible as she pointed toward the giant dog.
“Looks like a harp,” said Ron, pointing to the instrument near Fluffy’s massive paws. “Snape must have left it there.”
“It must wake up the moment you stop playing,” Harry said, his voice filled with tension. “Well, here goes—”
Before Harry could make a move, the harp abruptly stopped playing. The gentle melody faded, and Fluffy’s three heads snapped awake. Its eyes glinted in the dim light, and low, rumbling growls began to echo through the room. Each head turned toward them, sniffing the air and baring its teeth.
“Uh, guys,” Ron said, backing up slightly, his voice rising in panic.
Neville didn’t waste a second. He stepped forward and raised his wand. “Cantus Continuo!” he cast, directing the spell at the harp. Instantly, the instrument began playing again, this time shifting into a soothing lullaby. The calming tune filled the room, and Fluffy’s heads tilted slightly as the growls softened.
The massive dog swayed on its feet, its eyelids drooping. Slowly, it staggered, collapsing first to its knees and then to the ground, snoring deeply.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to Neville, their faces a mix of shock and admiration.
“That was brilliant, Neville,” Harry said, stepping closer. His voice was filled with genuine awe. “Where’d you learn that?”
Neville shrugged, brushing off the praise. “I figured your obsession with the Philosopher’s Stone would drag us here by the end of the year,” he said with a faint smirk. “So, I asked Professor Flitwick to teach me a spell that makes instruments play music on their own.”
Hermione’s face lit up. “You have to teach me that spell, Neville!”
“Yeah, sure,” Neville replied with a nod. “But let’s focus on the task at hand. The faster we’re done here, the faster we can leave.”
“Well, that’s a lifesaver,” Ron muttered, exhaling in relief.
The group crept cautiously toward the trapdoor. Fluffy’s snoring rumbled like distant thunder, and the oppressive heat of its breath filled the room. Neville gagged slightly, covering his nose with his sleeve. I really need to learn the Bubble-Head Charm, he thought as he edged closer to the sleeping beast.
“All right, mate,” Ron hissed, nudging Harry. He gestured toward the trapdoor, partially obscured by one of Fluffy’s massive paws. “Go on, see if you can shift it.”
Harry nodded, his face set with determination. He crouched low and carefully pushed against Fluffy’s paw. It was heavy and coarse, but after some effort, he managed to move it enough to reveal the trapdoor. He grabbed the iron ring and heaved it open. The trapdoor swung upward with a loud creak, revealing a pitch-black hole.
“What can you see?” Hermione whispered, peering anxiously over Harry’s shoulder.
“Nothing—just black,” Harry replied, his voice echoing slightly in the hollow space below. “There’s no ladder or anything. Looks like we’ll just have to drop.”
Ron leaned in beside Harry, squinting into the darkness. “Want to go first, Hermione?” he asked, turning to her.
“No, I don’t!” Hermione said quickly, stepping back with a shake of her head. “Someone else can do it.”
“I’ll go first,” Harry said firmly, taking a deep breath.
“You want to go first? Are you sure?” Ron asked, his voice laced with concern. “We don’t even know how deep it goes.”
“Yeah, I'm sure, “ Harry said. He then turned back to the trapdoor, lowering himself carefully until he was hanging by his fingertips. The room was silent except for the soft music of the harp and Fluffy’s rhythmic snores.
As he hung there, Harry glanced up at Ron. “If anything happens to me, don’t follow. Go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore. Got it?”
Neville, standing at the back, rolled his eyes thinking, 'Yeah, because Dumbledore would really let anything happen to his golden pawn. This whole thing’s probably going exactly the way he planned.'
“Right,” said Ron.
“See you in a minute, I hope,” Harry said. With a deep breath, he let go and dropped into the darkness below.
Neville leaned over the trapdoor and shouted, “You okay, mate?” He already knew the answer but felt compelled to ask.
A moment later, Harry’s voice echoed back up. “Yeah, I’m fine! It’s okay to come—it’s a soft landing. You can jump!”
Hearing that, Neville straightened and turned to Ron and Hermione. “All right, I’m going in next. You two, jump a bit further than where Harry and I are, or you’ll land on our heads.”
Ron and Hermione nodded, stepping aside to give Neville space.
“I’m coming in,” Neville called, gripping his wand tightly as he swung one leg over the edge. Without hesitation, he dropped through the trapdoor, landing softly on the spongy surface below. He stumbled slightly but caught himself, glancing around in the dimness. “Come on, Hermione!” he shouted up.
“All right, here I come!” Hermione’s voice rang out. Moments later, she dropped through the hole, landing lightly on Harry’s other side.
Ron was the last to follow, landing in a heap beside Harry. “What’s this stuff?” were his first words, brushing at his robes.
“Dunno,” Harry replied, crouching to examine the ground. “Some sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break the fall.”
Neville stood silently, holding his wand ready as he surveyed their surroundings. It was pitch black, the air cool and damp. He strained to hear any sounds beyond the faint rustling of the plant beneath them.
“We must be miles under the school,” Hermione said, her voice echoing faintly.
“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” Ron said, stretching his legs out.
“Lucky?” Hermione shrieked, her voice filled with alarm. “Look at you both!”
She leapt up, struggling toward the damp wall. Neville noticed her movements becoming sluggish as the plant’s tendrils began snaking around her ankles. Harry and Ron, meanwhile, were oblivious to the fact that their legs had already been tightly bound by the creeping vines.
“It’s Devil’s Snare,” Neville said calmly, watching the tendrils with a critical eye. “You need to stay calm. It tightens when you struggle.”
“Of course!” Hermione exclaimed, relief in her voice. “That’s exactly what it is.”
“Oh, I’m so glad we know what it’s called,” Ron snarled sarcastically, leaning back as he fought to pull the tendrils away from his neck. “That’s a great help!”
Hermione stilled herself, taking slow, steady breaths. As she calmed down, the Devil’s Snare loosened its grip on her and began retreating. Neville, who had remained calm the entire time, was unaffected and helped pull Hermione free. The two of them turned to watch as Ron and Harry wrestled frantically with the plant. The more they struggled, the faster and tighter the tendrils wrapped around them.
“Shut it, and calm down, you idiots!” Neville shouted. “Stop moving, or you’ll make it worse!”
“What should we do?” Hermione panicked. “Think, Hermione, think!”
“Well, hurry up—I can’t breathe!” Harry gasped, the tendrils curling tightly around his chest.
Neville sighed, shaking his head. He raised his wand and said firmly, “Lumos Solem!”
From the tip of Neville’s wand, a brilliant beam of golden light burst forth, illuminating the entire pit. The Devil’s Snare recoiled instantly, its tendrils writhing and hissing as they retreated into the shadows. Within seconds, Harry and Ron were free, collapsing onto the plant’s surface as they caught their breath.
“That,” Harry said, leaning against the wall and wiping the sweat from his face, “was too close.”
Harry sat up, gasping. “Thanks, mate,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“That… was horrible. Never thought I’d miss Fluffy.” Ron muttered, shooting a pointed look at Hermione. “Next time someone calls a plant ‘lucky,’ I’m putting my foot down.”
Hermione folded her arms, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I just meant it was lucky it broke our fall,” she said quietly, looking away. “I didn’t know it was Devil’s Snare until it started strangling us.”
Neville sighed, keeping his wand ready as he nodded toward the passage ahead. “Let’s keep moving. We’re wasting time.”
“This way,” Harry said, pointing to the sloping stone passageway that stretched into the darkness ahead.
They moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing softly off the walls. The air grew cooler as they descended, the faint sound of fluttering reaching their ears.
“Can you hear something?” Ron whispered, his voice tense.
“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Hermione asked, glancing around nervously.
Neville tilted his head, listening carefully. “Sounds more like birds flapping,” he said, his tone calm but wary. The soft fluttering grew louder as they approached a bright light ahead.
“There’s light up there,” Harry said, squinting as he led the way. “I can see something moving.”
The passageway opened into a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arched high above them. The room sparkled as if it were alive, filled with hundreds—maybe thousands—of small, jewel-bright creatures. They fluttered and darted around the room, their wings shimmering in the bright light. On the far side of the chamber stood a heavy wooden door with a large lock.
“Do you think they’ll attack us if we cross the room?” Ron asked, his voice hushed.
“Probably,” Harry replied, scanning the chamber. “They don’t look vicious, but if they all swooped down at once…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Well, there’s no other way forward.”
Neville stared up at them, narrowing his eyes. “Those aren’t birds,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’re keys.”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all squinted upward, following his gaze.
“They’re not birds!” Harry exclaimed, realization dawning. “They’re keys! Winged keys—look carefully.” He glanced around the chamber, his eyes darting between the swirling mass of keys and the door on the far side. “That must mean…”
“One of them is the key to open the door,” Neville finished, pointing to the locked door. “Probably the one that stands out from the rest.”
Harry nodded. “And I bet that broomstick over there is how we’re supposed to catch it.”
“What’s this all about?” Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head, his expression darkening. “I don’t know, but it feels too convenient.”
Neville smirked faintly, his thoughts echoing Harry’s sentiment. 'Yeah, not suspicious at all, Dumbledore. All the obstacles were perfectly suited for the four of us. Nothing strange about that.'
“But there are hundreds of them!” Ron said, staring up at the swarm. He moved to the door and drew his wand. “Alohomora!” he cast, pointing at the lock, but nothing happened. The door didn’t budge. “Well, worth a try,” he muttered, stepping back.
Hermione threw her hands up in frustration. “What are we supposed to do? There are so many up there—it could take ages!”
Hermione groaned in frustration, pacing back and forth as she looked up at the swirling mass of keys above them. “What are we going to do?” she growled, throwing her hands up. “There must be a thousand keys up there!”
“Well,” Harry said, gripping the broomstick firmly, “the only thing we can do is catch the key.” With that, he mounted the broom, kicked off the ground, and soared into the air.
As soon as Harry’s hands touched the broom, the keys reacted. The entire swarm buzzed to life, darting and speeding around the room like a chaotic, glittering storm. Their wings beat furiously, the sound filling the chamber as Harry zigzagged through the air, chasing after them.
Neville, Hermione, and Ron watched from below, their heads tilted back as they tried to follow the movement.
“This is going to take forever,” Ron muttered, his tone exasperated. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Neville squinted up at the cloud of keys, his eyes darting between them. “I think Harry’s just spotted the one,” he said, his voice steady.
Sure enough, Harry was zeroing in on a large silver key with a bent wing, which fluttered awkwardly among the others.
“That’s it!” Hermione exclaimed, pointing. “The one with the broken wing—it must have been caught before!”
Harry darted toward the key, weaving through the swarm as the other keys zipped past him in every direction. With a sudden burst of speed, he reached out and snatched the silver key from the air. The buzzing intensified as the swarm turned its attention to Harry, chasing him furiously as he dove toward the ground.
“Catch the key and open the door!” Harry shouted as he neared them. He threw the key toward the group in a swift arc, narrowly avoiding the pursuing keys.
Neville reacted quickly, catching the key midair. He sprinted to the heavy wooden door without hesitation, jamming the key into the lock. “Come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, twisting it with all his might as the keys swarmed closer.
“Hurry up, Neville!” Hermione urged, her voice high with panic.
“Anytime now, mate!” Ron shouted, his eyes wide as the buzzing grew louder.
With a loud click, the lock turned, and Neville pushed the door open. “Got it!” he called, holding the door wide as Harry looped around for another pass.
Ron and Hermione darted through the opening, Neville close behind. “Quick, Harry! Come on!” they shouted, waving him in.
Harry dove through the open doorway just as the keys swarmed toward him. Neville slammed the door shut, pressing his weight against it as the keys thunked and embedded themselves into the wood, their wings fluttering madly.
Hermione slumped against the door, breathing heavily. “That was too close,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
“You could say that again,” Harry said, landing next to them and wiping sweat from his forehead. He leaned on the broomstick, his chest heaving from the effort.
Ron, catching his breath, pointed past them. “Uh… guys? Look.”
