Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 49
McGonagall's sharp gaze turned icy, and she folded her arms. "You're late, Weasley. Where were you?"
Ron hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… overslept."
McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and detention. I hope you don't make a habit of this," she said firmly. "Now, take your seat before I dock more points."
Ron muttered under his breath and trudged over to where Harry, Neville, and Hermione were sitting, dropping heavily into the seat beside them.
He looked grumpy, his frown mostly directed at Harry.
"Why didn't you lot wake me up?" he grumbled.
Harry, looking a bit sheepish, scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, mate, forgot. We were exercising in the morning and didn't think you'd want to join."
Ron's brows furrowed deeper. "What do you mean, exercising? I doubt Wood's got Quidditch practice that early."
Neville, flipping through his notes, glanced up and answered casually. "With me."
Ron blinked, his frown deepening. "With you?!"
Harry smirked. "Yeah, I started over the summer break, and I figured it'd be a waste to stop now."
Ron gave them both an incredulous look like they had just told him they willingly volunteered for Snape's detentions.
But in the end, he just huffed and didn't say anything else.
…
September 2nd, 1992 – Transfiguration Class
The lunch bell rang, echoing through the corridors and signaling the end of Transfiguration.
Professor McGonagall glanced at the clock and gave a small nod.
"Alright, wands down, everyone," she said, walking back to her desk. "We'll continue reviewing spellwork in our next class on Friday—especially since some of you seem to have forgotten everything we covered before the summer break."
As she sat down at her desk, she added, "Before you leave, please place the holiday assignment on my desk on your way out."
Neville reached down, grabbing his bag from where it had been leaning against his desk, and pulled out his assignment.
Hermione pulling out a neatly organized folder from her satchel. She flipped it open, retrieved her assignment,
From behind them, Neville heard Ron groan loudly. He turned just in time to see Ron slumping in his seat next to Harry.
"How did you lot get the spells right on your first try?" Ron grumbled. "I barely managed to do it after three tries!"
Harry, who was packing up his things, sighed. "Well, you might want to practice more. I only managed it because Hermione and Neville helped me practice over the summer."
Ron blinked, confused. "Wait… over the summer? What do you mean? We're not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts."
Neville slung his bag over his shoulder and glanced back at Ron. "That only applies to Muggle-borns, Ron. The Ministry can't track who is casting spells in a magical household—so if you're in one, the trace can't tell if it's you or your parents."
Ron squinted at Neville, clearly baffled. "What are you on about? The Ministry sends warnings if you use magic outside Hogwarts. And if you do it three times, they'll snap your wand in half—everyone knows that."
Hermione stood from her seat, brushing off her skirt. "Neville's right," she said, matter-of-factly. "That rule mostly affects students from non-magical households like me. In magical homes, they assume it's the parents casting spells, so they don't track it the same way."
Ron stared at them, his mouth slightly open. "So… you're telling me I could've been using magic all summer and no one told me? That's not fair!"
Hermione shot him a glare. "At least you're allowed to use magic at home," she snapped. "Unlike me."
Ron grumbled, "Well, that's because you're Muggle-born. If you could, I'm sure your parents would let you. But for me—even if I could, my mum wouldn't have it."
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "She'd kill me if I tried anything magical at home. And this is the first time I'm even hearing that it was allowed…"
Neville gave a half-smile. "Well, look on the bright side—if your mum had allowed it, you'd probably have had to suffer through the twins using magic all summer."
Ron visibly shuddered at the thought. "Yeah, maybe that's a good thing. It's already a nightmare living with them—I don't want to imagine what they'd do with magic on top of it."
Walking over to McGonagall's desk, Neville placed his parchment neatly onto the stack. "Thank you for the lesson, Professor," he said with a respectful nod.
Hermione followed, placing her own parchment onto the pile with her usual precision. "Thank you, Professor,"
McGonagall nodded, a rare smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're welcome. I must say, the three of you have improved a great deal. That's very good to see."
Neville stepped aside, allowing Harry and Ron to approach the desk with their assignments.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, about to turn and leave—
"Just a moment, Potter," McGonagall called, her voice firm but calm.
Harry and Ron both paused, and up ahead, Neville and Hermione turned back, glancing curiously at McGonagall .
Harry looked back at her, a bit confused. "Yes, Professor?"
McGonagall reached into a drawer and pulled out a small folded note, handing it to him. "The Headmaster would like to see you after your classes today. Head up to his office before dinner. That's the password you'll need to enter."
Neville, still waiting just inside the door, frowned slightly. 'Dumbledore called him to his office already. ' he thought, He glanced at Hermione and saw her stiffen slightly.
Harry glanced at the note, then looked back at McGonagall, concern on his face. "Um, Professor… did he say why he wants to see me?"
McGonagall shook her head. "I have no idea. Now off you go—you'll be late for lunch. Just don't forget to go to his office when your classes are done."
"Right… thank you, Professor," Harry said quietly and tucked the note into his pocket. He turned and joined Neville, Hermione and Ron, the four of them walking out of the classroom.
Walking out of the classroom, Harry exchanged a look with Neville and Hermione. The tension was quiet but unmistakable.
Ron, completely oblivious, asked cheerfully, "What d'you reckon Dumbledore called you for?"
Harry let out a small sigh. "I don't know, Ron."
Hermione tried to sound positive, though she was fidgeting nervously. "Maybe he just wants to check on you—ask how you've been since… last year," she offered. "Make sure you're doing okay."
They walked down a corridor together, sunlight streaming through the tall castle windows.
Neville, walking beside them, shook his head slightly. "I think he wants to know where you've been over the summer," he said as they stepped into the viaduct courtyard, students passing by all around them. "You did leave the Dursleys, after all."
Ron gave Neville a confused look. "Huh? Why would Dumbledore care what Harry does over the summer?"
Neville clicked his tongue, mentally kicking himself. He had forgotten Ron was still with them.
"Just a guess," Neville covered smoothly. "Could be calling him in to ask what he had for breakfast for all I know."
Ron accepted that with a shrug. "Right."
Trying to change the subject, Harry asked, "What've we got this afternoon?"
Hermione, catching on, glanced at her timetable. "Defence Against the Dark Arts," she said.
Ron leaned over and snatched her timetable playfully. "What's this? Did you outline all of Lockhart's lessons with little hearts?"
Neville raised an eyebrow and gave Hermione a look of amusement.
Hermione went bright red, snatching her timetable back. "That's none of your business, Ronald!"
Ron grumbled, "I don't know what people see in him anyway. We met him at Flourish and Blotts—he was signing books and acting like a right show-off. He's just like Malfoy, if you ask me."
"He is not!" Hermione snapped. "Have you even read his books? He's a great wizard! I still can't believe he's going to be teaching us DADA."
They stepped into the Great Hall, the long tables filled with students chatting and eating.
Neville shook his head. "If he was such a great wizard, Hermione, he wouldn't have forced every student—regardless of year—to buy all of his books. That's around five hundred copies, just to boost his sales."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, frowning but saying nothing.
They all took their seats at the Gryffindor table, the smell of food wafting through the air.
Harry, for his part, wasn't paying attention to the food—or the conversation. He was too busy dreading whatever it was that Dumbledore wanted to speak to him about.
…
Neville held the door open to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, letting Hermione, Harry, and Ron walk out ahead of him.
"Well," he said with a sigh, stepping out after them, "there goes any hope of learning something actually useful in DADA this year."
"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," Hermione said weakly, clearly trying to find the silver lining.
The class had gone exactly how Neville remembered it from the original timeline: Lockhart being pompous, overly dramatic, and more interested in posing for attention than teaching. Before the lesson, he'd even pulled Harry aside and asked Colin Creevey to take a photo of the two of them together after overhearing that Colin wanted a picture of Harry.
Neville had half-expected Malfoy to mock Harry for the attention, especially something as ridiculous as a staged photo shoot—but to his surprise, Draco hadn't said a word. He'd stayed silent and distant the entire class, shooting occasional looks at Neville and his group but not daring to approach.
Guess humbling him in front of his father with wandless magic really did something, Neville thought. He's cautious now… Let's see how long that lasts.
"Hands-on," Harry said dryly, raising an eyebrow at Hermione. "Hermione, he didn't even have a clue what he was doing."
"Rubbish," Hermione shot back. "You've read his books—look at all the amazing things he's done!"
"He says he's done," Ron muttered under his breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Neville shook his head. "Anyone can write a story, Hermione. I bet he hasn't done half the things in those books."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Neville cut in gently, "Remember what I told you at the end of last term? Don't judge a book by its cover."
Hermione bit her lip and looked down. "Fine," she murmured.
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. See you later."
And with that, they split off, Harry heading toward the Headmaster's office while Neville and Hermione made their way toward the library.
Author's Note: I know some readers have mentioned that the fanfic sticks closely to canon, but I promise you—deviations are coming. Just like in my other fanfic Naruto SI: Kaito Red Lightning, the changes will start off small, but they'll gradually build up and take the story in a new direction.
If you wish to support this story, please join me at patreon.com/Tilct
please contribute some power stone'