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Hogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 39
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 20:13:13 +0000 UTCHogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 39
Neville exhaled. “It’s possible. If Voldemort believed in the prophecy—if he thought the one who could defeat him would be like Dumbledore, another half-blood—then he had to choose between us. And he chose you.”
Harry stared at the floor, trying to process it all.
Neville continued. “And here’s something else I figured out… I think Voldemort himself is a half-blood.”
Hermione gasped. “What?”
Neville nodded. “Think about it. If he was a pureblood, he would have kept his family name. You know how much purebloods flaunt their blood status. They’re obsessed with their lineages.”
Harry frowned. “But his name is Voldemort.”
Neville shook his head. “That’s a chosen name, Harry. No pureblood family, no matter how twisted, would name their kid ‘Voldemort’. They’d give him a proper wizarding name—one with a legacy, one that ties back to an ancient lineage. But he changed his name. That means he was hiding something.”
Hermione bit her lip. “You think he was ashamed of his real name?”
Neville nodded. “Yeah. Because if he wasn’t a pureblood, that means he wasn’t what his followers thought he was.”
...
Neville shrugged. “So yeah, I think that’s why Voldemort went after you on Halloween. He chose you because you were a half-blood, and your mum sacrificed herself to protect you that night… that’s what shielded you when he cast the Killing Curse. And it’s probably the same thing that protected you when Quirrell touched you.”
Harry let out a shaky breath, sinking into a chair and holding his head in his hands. “This is… a lot to take in. My mum sacrificed herself to protect me… and Voldemort is after me because of some dumb prophecy?”
Hermione, looking stricken, reached out and rubbed his back gently. “Oh, Harry…”
Harry exhaled heavily before lifting his gaze to Neville. His voice was quiet but firm. “You think Dumbledore’s pulling all the strings?”
Neville nodded without hesitation. “Yes. And I think there’s even more to it.” He leaned forward. “You told me Dumbledore was the one who left you with your relatives, right? But don’t you think it’s strange that you were sent to the Dursleys instead of your godparents? Why would Dumbledore put you there when my parents could still care for you?”
Harry frowned, confusion flickering across his face.
“That brings me to something else,” Neville continued, his expression darkening. “My mum—Alice Longbottom—was your godmother, which means you should have automatically been under her custody when your parents… weren’t able to care for you anymore.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Wait… what?”
Neville clenched his fists. “My gran told me that my parents were found on November 3rd—a full three days after Halloween. They were still in hiding. Then, suddenly, they weren’t. They left wherever they were hiding and ended up in a place that was immediately found by Death Eaters. And they were tortured for hours under the Cruciatus Curse.”
“So here’s my question.” He met Harry’s gaze. “If my mum was still capable of taking care of you… why didn’t Dumbledore hand you over to her? Why did he leave you with the Dursleys instead?”
Neville leaned forward, his expression serious. “You know what’s really suspicious about all this?”
Harry and Hermione looked at him, confusion etched on their faces.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
Neville exhaled sharply. “They were in hiding, right? Safe. Completely off the grid. Then, suddenly, they’re lured out—right into a trap. That means someone they trusted told them it was safe. Someone they believed without question. And then, somehow, the Death Eaters knew exactly where to find them.”
Hermione furrowed her brows. “But how? I mean, how could anyone just… find them if they were hiding?”
Neville looked at her, weighing his words carefully. “Do you know what a Fidelius Charm is?”
Hermione shook her head, and even Harry looked puzzled.
Neville leaned back slightly. “It’s one of the most powerful protective spells that exist. It works by hiding a secret inside a living person—the Secret Keeper. The location can only be revealed if the Secret Keeper willingly tells someone. Even if you tortured them, they couldn’t let the secret slip by accident. As long as the Secret Keeper doesn’t talk, the place remains hidden forever.” He hesitated before adding, “According to my gran, my parents were hidden under that spell. And I think yours were too, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and Hermione’s mouth parted slightly as she processed this information.
“So…” she said slowly, connecting the dots, “whoever told your parents it was safe… had to be the Secret Keeper. The only way they would ever come out was if someone they trusted convinced them to.”
Neville nodded grimly. “Exactly. My mum and dad weren’t reckless. They were Aurors. They knew how dangerous it was, yet they left their hiding place. Why? Because they trusted the person who told them it was safe.”
Silence stretched between them. Then Hermione whispered, “You’re suggesting that the person they trusted… was Dumbledore.”
Neville didn’t say anything at first, just letting the weight of the words sink in. Then, slowly, he nodded.
Harry’s breath hitched. “But why? That doesn’t make sense—”
Neville gave him a sharp look. “Harry, you were placed with your Muggle relatives immediately after your parents were killed. My mum—your godmother—was rendered incapable of taking care of you within the next three days. Don’t you think that’s just a bit too convenient?”
Harry’s face paled.
“If my theory is right,” Neville continued, his voice dark, “then Dumbledore was the one who told them to go into hiding in the first place. And then, for some reason, he brought them out. And the moment they left, the Death Eaters knew exactly where to find them.”
Harry swallowed hard. His hands clenched into fists on his lap. “Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why would Dumbledore go to those lengths to keep me at the Dursleys?”
Neville looked him dead in the eye. “To mold you.”
Harry flinched.
“To make you the perfect pawn,” Neville continued, his voice unwavering. “Harry, you had to be broken. Beaten down. Desperate for love and validation. Abused enough that, when Dumbledore finally showed up to ‘save’ you, you’d see him as your hero. Someone you’d follow without question.”
Hermione let out a small, horrified gasp, her hands covering her mouth.
“Harry,” Neville said, his voice softer now, “you’ve got no sense of self-worth. Dumbledore made sure of that. He needed you to feel indebted to him. That way, you’d never question him. Never think for yourself. Never ask if there was another way.”
Harry sat down, hard, his whole body trembling. “Is that all I am?” he asked numbly. “Just… a pawn in Dumbledore’s grand plan?”
Neville nodded.
“If I had to guess,” he said carefully, “Dumbledore leaked the prophecy. Voldemort got wind of it, and suddenly, two babies became targets—you and me. Then Dumbledore went to our parents, telling them to hide. And he waited.”
Neville pointed to the scar on Harry’s forehead. “For Voldemort to choose.”
“He needed Voldemort to mark his chosen enemy,” Neville continued. “Dumbledore didn’t know which one of us the prophecy was about. He needed Voldemort to decide for him.”
“But Dumbledore didn’t expect Voldemort to survive,” Neville went on. “The prophecy wasn’t fulfilled, so he still needed you to do it. And to make sure you played your part… he had to control you.”
The compartment fell into silence.
No one spoke.
Neville turned his gaze to the window, watching as the scenery blurred past.
Harry sat slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together as he stared at them, lost in thought.
Hermione stood beside him, biting her lip. She glanced between Harry and Neville, her mind racing through the implications of everything they had just talked about.
Finally, she broke the silence. "So... the prophecy is still active? And Dumbledore is manipulating everything to make sure Harry fulfills it?" Her voice was quiet, but there was a sharp edge to it.
Neville nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. We know Voldemort is still out there, so the prophecy hasn't been fulfilled yet. And as long as that’s the case, Dumbledore will keep pushing things to fit his plan."
Harry lifted his head slightly, his brows furrowed. "Then... can’t we go to the Aurors or something? Report Dumbledore?"
Neville shook his head. "Harry, if it were that simple, don’t you think I would’ve done it when he tried wiping my memories?" He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Dumbledore isn’t just some random wizard. We don’t have proof—just speculation. And even if we did, do you really think people would believe three first-years over him?"
Hermione sighed, crossing her arms. "He's right, Harry. Dumbledore is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards—he’s one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the world. Even if we did tell someone, it wouldn't make a difference."
Neville nodded. "And if we tried, he could just erase our memories, make us forget everything… or worse, he might decide to get rid of me."
Harry’s head snapped up, his green eyes dark. "Then what do we do? If we can’t report him, what’s the point of you telling us all this in the first place?" His frustration bubbled over, his voice rising slightly.
Neville raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Let me finish," he said firmly. "What I’m saying is that we do nothing for now. We can’t openly challenge him or go against him yet."
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, still looking uneasy, but they let Neville continue.
"The first thing we must do is make sure Dumbledore never finds out that we know what’s going on," Neville went on, lowering his voice. "That means we act normal—like we don’t suspect a thing. And whatever you do, don’t look Dumbledore in the eye. He can read minds."
Harry frowned. "How are we supposed to stop that?"
Neville reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment, handing it to Harry. "That’s why I want you to start learning Occlumency over the summer. I wrote down the method and shortened it for you to make it easier to follow. I also put an Impervious Charm on it, so it won’t get damaged."
He turned to Hermione next. "Same goes for you. I’ll lend you my book on Occlumency. Just promise me you’ll take good care of it."
Hermione nodded, gripping the book tightly as if it were the most valuable thing she’d ever held. "You don’t have to worry about that, Neville. I’ll take good care of it."
Neville then turned back to Harry. "I’ll talk to Gran and get her to let you stay over for the summer," he said. "Give me a week, and I’ll come get you."
Harry looked surprised. "Stay over? Why?"
Neville leaned forward, his expression serious. "Harry, the prophecy hasn’t been fulfilled yet. That means, at some point, you will have to face Voldemort. We need to start getting you ready for that." He paused before adding, "When you come to stay at Longbottom Manor, we’ll start training—learning how to fight using magic."
Harry blinked. "But… I thought students weren’t allowed to perform magic outside of school?"
Before Neville could answer, Hermione scoffed. "That only applies to Muggle-borns," she said, her voice tinged with irritation. "The Trace can’t detect magic in a wizarding household, only in Muggle homes."
Neville nodded. "Hermione, when you visit over the summer, you can join us then."
She gave a firm nod in response, already mentally preparing for what was to come.
Neville exhaled and leaned back. "For now, all we can do is prepare and get stronger."
Harry nodded. "Right."
After a moment of thought, Neville added, "I don’t know if there’s such a thing as a loyalty potion, but I do know love potions and even hate potions exist in this world. I’ll be looking into it, see if there’s some kind of purging potion—something to protect us from being affected by them."
Hermione looked horrified. "You mean there's really something as vile as a love potion?"
Neville nodded. "Yeah. And worse—it’s perfectly legal to use." He shook his head in disgust. "I don’t think the magical world has common sense at all. It’s basically like using the Imperius Curse on someone, but somehow, it's considered acceptable."
Hermione’s face twisted in revulsion, but before she could say anything else, there was a knock on the compartment door.
She jumped slightly, startled by the sudden noise.
Neville sighed. "I really need to learn how to cast a Notice-Me-Not charm."
The knocking grew more persistent. Neville stood up but turned back to Harry before opening the door.
"Whatever you do, don’t go to the Weasleys," Neville warned, his voice low and serious. "We don’t know if they’re involved with Dumbledore. Just wait for me—I’ll try to come get you within a week."
Harry’s expression hardened with determination. "Got it."
With a final nod, Neville undid the Muffliato and the locking charm, then swung the door open, looking mildly annoyed. "What?"
Seamus and Dean stood there, looking a bit sheepish.
"Hey, mate," Seamus said with a grin. "We were wondering if you guys wanted to join us for a game of Gobstones."
Neville glanced over his shoulder at Harry and Hermione before nodding. "Yeah, sure. But we’ve got to wake Ron up first."
Seamus groaned. "Ah, that’s gonna take a while."
Comments
John Grechko
Neville probably not use voldemorts name, it literally has a trace on it which is why no body speaks his name, the fear was only a part of it
