Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 78
Hermione stumbled, blinking rapidly. "Huh? What… what just happened?"
Neville didn't stop to explain. "We're leaving. Now."
He tugged her along and grabbed Harry by the sleeve before either of them could get a word out.
They hurried out of the study, stumbling back into the open corridor. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them with a heavy bang. Neville stood there, breathing hard, his mind still racing.
Hermione turned to him, her face pale. "Neville… what happened?"
Harry frowned. "Yeah—what was that? I thought you wanted to check the books?"
Neville shook his head, voice low but sharp. "There were cursed items in there. Hermione—you were under some sort of compulsion charm. If you'd touched that book… I think it would've killed you."
Harry let out a low whistle. "Blimey."
Hermione's face went paper white. "I… I didn't even realise I was reaching for it."
Neville gave her a grim nod. "Yeah. Good thing Lumina warned me."
He glanced back at the closed door, a dark twist settling in his gut. "I think… we leave whatever's in there alone. For now, at least."
He exhaled, still staring at the door. "Yeah… sometimes, curiosity really does kill."
…
Tuesday, 17th February 1993 – Early Morning, Second-Year Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory, Hogwarts
It was 4:30 in the morning, and the sun had yet to rise over the misty Scottish Highlands. The Gryffindor second-year boys' dormitory was quiet, the only light in the room coming from the soft blue glow of Lumina's feathers.
All five beds were occupied, save for two—Neville's and Ron's.
Ron had gone home for the week to spend time getting to know his family again, along with the rest of the Weasleys.
Just then, the dormitory door creaked open. Neville stepped inside, rubbing his hair dry with a towel slung over his head. His wand was in his right hand, casting a faint Lumos to guide his way.
He made his way over to his bed, pulled the towel from his head, and draped it over the bedrail at the footboard. Then, he walked over to his bedside table, where Lumina was perched neatly on her little pillow.
She blinked at him, tilting her head with a soft trill, as if to ask, Where are you off to this early?
Neville gave a small, lopsided smile. "We've got some work to do before breakfast, girl," he said quietly, careful not to wake the others.
He reached down and grabbed his sling bag from beside the bed, slipping his wand into his mouth so he could use both hands to rummage through it. After a few seconds, he pulled out a battered notebook and a pen.
Tossing the bag onto his bed, he tore a page from the notebook, then quickly ripped that page in half.
"Shift over a bit, girl," he murmured, removing the wand from his mouth
Neville placed the slip of paper neatly beside her.
With the wand now resting in his left hand, he leaned down and scribbled quickly:
I had something to do. I'll meet you in the Great Hall.
– Neville Longbottom
Neville quickly scribbled the same note on the second piece of paper, then stuffed the pen and notebook back into his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he grabbed both notes off the bedside table.
"Let's go, girl," he whispered.
With a quiet trill, Lumina fluttered up and landed neatly on his shoulder
Neville crossed the room over to Harry's bed. He placed one of the notes on Harry's bedside table, glancing once at the white owl perched nearby.
Hedwig blinked at him curiously from her usual spot on the bedpost, tilting her head slightly.
"Hey, Hedwig," Neville said softly, giving her a gentle pat on the head. "Mind doing me a favour?" He held out the second note to her. "Think you can drop this off at Hermione's room? Just leave it on her bedside table, yeah?"
Hedwig gave a low hoot and plucked the note from his fingers with her beak.
"Thanks," Neville said. "I owe you one."
With a graceful flap, Hedwig flew toward the window and disappeared into the early morning air.
Just as he turned to leave, he felt a sharp nip on his ear.
"Ow!" Neville jerked his head slightly and rubbed his ear. "What was that for?"
Lumina gave an angry chirp and flapped her wings, clearly not pleased.
Neville narrowed his eyes at her. "Seriously? You mad because I asked Hedwig instead of you?"
She turned her head sharply, feathers puffed up in a clear huff.
Neville sighed. "You've never even been to Hermione's room before. You wouldn't have found it, and even if you could flash there, you might wake her up. Flashing's loud, remember?"
Lumina made a snippy sound, clearly ignoring him.
Neville muttered under his breath, "I swear, it's like having a jealous girlfriend with you..."
He left the second-year dorm quietly, descending the stairs into the dimly lit Gryffindor common room. The fire in the hearth had died down to glowing embers, casting a soft orange light across the room.
The common room was completely empty.
Neville moved quietly heading straight for the portrait hole.
As the frame swung shut behind him, the Fat Lady stirred awake with a sleepy groan. Her eyes cracked open just enough to squint at him.
"What are you doing out at this ungodly hour, lad?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.
Neville gave her a sheepish grin. "Eh… just going to exercise."
She let out a great yawn. "This early? You lot don't usually go out now. Hmph… whatever. Just don't get caught skulking about. Curfew's still on for another hour." She waved him off lazily and sank back into her frame.
"Alright. Thanks," Neville said, turning and heading off.
He flicked his wand and cast a silent Lumos, the tip lighting up with a soft glow. Some of the portraits along the hallway flinched, shielding their eyes.
"Oi! We're trying to sleep!" one grumbled.
Neville didn't reply. He just kept walking, slipping down the steps that led out of Gryffindor Tower and across to the Defence Against the Dark Arts side of the castle.
He made his way up to the third floor, passed the Charms classroom, and up the stairwell that wound up toward the Astronomy Tower.
Four floors later, Neville finally arrived at the seventh floor corridor—just across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.
The Room of Requirement.
"Right…" Neville muttered, pacing slowly back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall. "I need a suitcase… one with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it. Something big enough to store the basilisk… something like Newt Scamander's suitcase. Come on, come on..."
The stone wall shimmered—and a door appeared.
"Hope this works," Neville murmured, letting out a breath as he stepped forward and pulled the door open.
The moment he stepped inside, he let out a long, frustrated sigh.
"Oh, come on," he muttered.
It wasn't the tidy storage room he'd hoped for. Instead, it was the Room of Hidden Things—endless piles of forgotten junk, broken furniture, and abandoned belongings stacked high and deep. A maze of clutter left behind by generations of Hogwarts students.
Sighing, Neville stepped in fully and shut the door behind him.
"Well… better start from where I left off," he mumbled to himself as he turned to the right, heading for a familiar pile he'd already sifted through the day before.
For the next couple of hours, Neville dug through old trunks, broken shelves, cracked mirrors, bent cauldrons, and who-knows-what-else. The Room of Hidden Things was massive—winding rows of clutter that seemed to go on forever.
His thoughts drifted back to yesterday.
After they'd made it out of the Chamber—after their close call—he'd gotten Lumina some mice from Hagrid like he'd promised. Then he'd split off from Harry and Hermione, telling them he had something to take care of.
That "something" had brought him right here.
He'd asked the Room for what he needed—a suitcase with an Undetectable Extension Charm, something like Newt Scamander's. Something that could hold a sixty-foot-long dead basilisk. He'd hoped, just like before, the Room would hand him exactly what he needed. It had given him a phoenix chick, and a enchanted dagger that could become a sword. Surely it would come through again.
But no such luck.
Instead, it had given him this. The Room of Hidden Things. A massive junkyard of forgotten magic and clutter, and no matter how many times he tried or rephrased what he needed, the Room didn't budge.
Neville grunted, shifting an old sofa out of the way. "Would've been too easy, wouldn't it…"
Sure, he could just go out and buy a suitcase like with the same specs as Newt's. But bags with Undetectable Extension Charms were highly regulated and had to be registered with the Ministry. And when you registered one, you had to give them a reason why you needed it.
And Neville definitely couldn't say, "I need it to carry the corpse of a XXXXX-class magical creature I'm planning to sell for a quick Galleon."
No, the basilisk was rare… dangerous… and more importantly illegal to trade magical creatures even dead ones, and if the ministry found out that he was planing on selling salazar basilisk The Ministry would probably seize it, rope it off for 'preservation,' and he'd get nothing for the trouble.
He glanced at his own sling bag, It had an extension charm too—but only just enough to stick his arm in. Not nearly enough for a sixty-foot serpent.
Now that he thought about it, the whole "register your bag" thing probably started after Jacob's accidently let Newt's creatures escaped into New York. Yeah… that made sense. The Erumpent in Central Park, the chaos downtown—he remembered from the film. That rule had to be made after that whole mess.
Either way, buying one was the last an option.
Well, anyway, Neville had spent the rest of the day digging through the Room of Hidden Things until dinner.
Sure, he could've brought Harry and Hermione along to help him search… but then he'd have to explain how he even knew about the Room of Requirement in the first place. Saying he found it by accident was stupid—the whole thing with pacing in front of the wall three times while thinking about what you needed? Far too specific to be luck.
And Hermione… yeah, she was already starting to give him that look. Especially after everything that happened with Tom and the basilisk. She'd seen how he'd been up late in the common room, night after night, before the attacks started. Neville had a feeling she might suspect he'd known something—about the Heir, about the diary—before it all happened.
And the worst part? She wasn't wrong.
She was already spotting the cracks in his explanations. Like yesterday, after they left the Chamber, Hermione had wasted no time grilling him—asking where he'd found the dagger, how he got his hands on it, and more importantly, where the dagger had come from. A dagger like that didn't just lie around—not one that could turn into a sword and was clearly enchanted. And then there was Lumina.
"You just happened to find a phoenix chick and a enchanted dagger on a table, Neville? Really?" she'd asked, eyebrows raised and arms folded tight across her chest.
He'd kept it as close to the truth as he dared, telling her he'd found both the dagger and Lumina in a strange room—swore it was real. Said he'd gone back later, tried to find it again, but couldn't. The room was gone.
It wasn't a lie—not really. But it wasn't the full truth either.
He was planning to tell them about the Room eventually… just not yet. Not until he could come up with something that made more sense. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to start doubting him—for her to stop trusting him.
Neville floated another trunk out of the way and moved on to the next pile. He let out a tired grunt and dropped down to sit on the floor. "Ugh... this is getting ridiculous," he muttered, brushing a cobweb off his sleeve.
Lumina flapped her wings and flew down, dropping something square and dusty into his lap before landing on his shoulder with a soft flutter.
Neville glanced down at the case, checked it, then sighed and tossed it aside. "Nah. Sorry, girl. Just another regular suitcase."
He leaned back against an old trunk, rubbing his face with both hands. "We've been digging through this junk for hours. How are there so many suitcases and not one magical one?"
Lumina gave a low chirp—one that sounded a little too much like a suggestion.
Neville frowned. "What d'you mean, 'ask for help'? Who am I supposed to ask? Harry and Hermione don't even know about this room. And explaining it... well, that's not simple."
She tilted her head and gave him a sharp look—one of those really? looks. The kind that clearly said Are you being dense on purpose?
Then she chirped again. This one smug. Definitely smug.
Neville blinked at her. Then his eyes widened, and he slapped his palm to his forehead. "Oh for Merlin's sake… why didn't I think of that sooner?"
Lumina trilled, sounding far too pleased with herself.
Neville narrowed his eyes at her. "Well, if you're so smart, why didn't you say something yesterday? We could've saved ourselves all this mess."
Lumina let out a sharp screech and whacked the side of his head with her wing.
"Oi!" Neville flinched, rubbing the spot. "Alright, alright! I get it!"
She turned away with a huff, her feathers fluffed like she was personally offended.
Neville groaned and muttered under his breath, "It's like having a tiny bossy professor sitting on my shoulder."
She clicked her beak, not even bothering to look at him.
"Yeah, yeah," Neville sighed, standing up and brushing himself off. "You're smarter than me. Happy now?"
She chirped once. Very happy.
Neville sighed, then took a step forward and cleared his throat. "Alright then… here goes."
He raised his voice slightly. "Hogwarts house-elves! I could use some help!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth, there was a soft pop!—and right in front of him stood a house-elf, staring up at Neville with wide, eager eyes.
"Young student is calling?" the elf squeaked. "Jibber is here! What can Jibber do for sirs?"
Neville blinked. "Uh… hello, Jibber, I'm Neville Longbottom. Nice to meet you. And yeah, I do need some help. I'm looking for something—can you help me find it?"
Jibber nodded quickly, his ears flopping with each motion. "Yes, of course! Jibber can help! What is young sir looking for?"
Neville rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm, uh… looking for something like a suitcase. One with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Big enough to hold magical creatures and stuff." He gestured around to the endless piles of forgotten junk. "Think there's anything like that lying around here?"
Jibber's ears perked up, eyes going wide. "Ohhh, yes! Jibber thinks he knows just the thing! There's an old nap-sack—very old—in the other room, sir!"
POP!
He vanished before Neville could even get a word in.
Neville stared at the spot where the elf had been. "Wait—what other room?"
He turned to Lumina, who tilted her head at him from his shoulder.
"You think he meant an actual other room?" Neville asked.
Lumina gave a little shrug, as if to say, 'Beats me.'
Before Neville could even sit back down, there was another soft POP!—and Jibber reappeared right in front of him, arms stretched out and grinning proudly.
Clutched in his small hands was a thick, worn-looking napsack made of faded brown dragonhide. It looked like one of those old-timey doctor bags, the kind with the big clip-latch on top.
"Ta-da!" Jibber beamed. "This is it, sir! Jibber cleaned it for you!"
Neville reached out and took the bag, opening the latch carefully. He peered inside, his eyebrows rising slightly. "How big is it in there?"
"Oh, very big, sir," Jibber said proudly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Big enough to go inside! Like a little room, it is!"
Neville blinked, then looked up at him, a bit wary. "Is it… safe?"
Jibber nodded enthusiastically. "Safe, yes! Jibber checked all the enchantments—still works perfectly! Would Mister Longbottom like to try it?"
Neville looked down at the napsack, then over at Lumina. She gave a cheerful trill and nodded, as if to say, Don't worry—if something goes wrong, I'll just flame you out. No big deal.
Neville let out a sigh. "Right… okay then."
He set the napsack down on the ground, opened the latch, and cautiously put one foot inside. His foot found something solid—felt like a ladder. Testing his weight, he slowly climbed the rest of the way in. It was a strange sensation—like stepping into a pocket of still air.
Inside was a surprisingly large space. Empty, save for the ladder going back up. Like standing in a magical tent.
Neville gave a small nod to himself, then climbed back out.
Coming out of the napsack, he shut the latch and turned to Jibber. "This… this is brilliant," he said, almost in disbelief. "Thank you, Jibber. Really."
Jibber puffed up proudly, his ears twitching with delight. "Jibber is always happy to help students who are polite. If Mister Longbottom ever needs anything else, Jibber will be listening!"
Neville nodded. "Actually—before you go… what did you mean earlier? You said the napsack was in 'the other room'?"
Jibber nodded, ears flopping a little as he spoke. "The other room, sir—it's right here. That napsack used to belong to a student, long, long time ago. He saved magical creatures from poachers and kept them safe in the other room. We house-elves have been looking after them ever since."
Neville's eyes widened. "Wait a second…"
'Hold on—that sounds just like the Vivarium from Hogwarts Legacy,' he thought, staring down at the old dragonhide napsack in disbelief.
Before he could process that thought properly, his stomach let out a loud growl.
Jibber's ears perked up at once. "Oh! Student must be hungry! It is already breakfast time, sir. Would Mister Longbottom like Jibber to bring something to eat?"
Neville glanced at his wristwatch and groaned. 8:30 AM. He muttered under his breath, "Bugger—Hermione's going to kill me."
He quickly shook his head. "No, it's alright, Jibber. Thanks again, but I'll head to the Great Hall myself."
Jibber gave a cheerful little bow. "Alright, sir! Jibber was happy to help!"
Pop! —and the elf vanished.
Neville slung the napsack over his shoulder and started walking toward the exit of the room, his mind still spinning.
'So the Hogwarts Legacy game is canon here, huh? Well… I don't really know much about it. Never actually played the game. I just some bit about it, well i remember ancient magic… a stronger version of magic and lets user see the magic itself. And the Vivarium…' He frowned slightly, trying to recall. 'i think the main character fight in some goblin rebellion or something? Damn… I really should've done a play the game.'
He pulled open the door and stepped out. Behind him, the door to the Room of Requirement shimmered, then faded cleanly back into the wall.
Just then, a voice called out behind him, a voice that he was familiar with.
"Hello."
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