Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 36
Madam Pomfrey, who had been remarkably patient up until now, decided she'd had enough of the excitement. She bustled forward, hands firmly on her hips. "That's quite enough!" she snapped. "Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, if you please—these children need rest! They've been through a right ordeal, and I will not have them troubled further. Out! All of you!"
Dumbledore inclined his head, his eyes twinkling slightly. "Of course, Poppy." He turned to Neville, Ron, and Hermione, giving them a kindly glance. "You three should rest. There will be plenty to discuss in the days ahead, but for now, recover your strength."
As Madam Pomfrey shooed the professors away, she checked over them one last time, muttering under her breath about reckless children. They were each given a dose of Wiggenweld Potion, the warm liquid easing their lingering exhaustion, and told to sleep.
Hermione, perched on the edge of the bed beside Neville, ran a hand across her brow, letting out a slow breath. "I just can't believe it was Professor Quirrell all along," she said, voice low. "And poor Harry had to face him alone."
Ron, sitting on his own bed, fiddled with the hem of his sheets. "At least Harry's breathing," he muttered, trying to sound confident. "Never in a million years would I have guessed it was Quirrell."
Neville, already closing his eyes, let out a tired sigh. "Well… I'm just glad it's all over now."
,,,
It was late evening in the Scottish Highlands.
Neville sat in the Gryffindor common room along with Hermione, both of them finishing up their homework.
With a final scribble, Neville stretched his arms and let out a yawn. "And that's done," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Finally—a full week of nothing but homework, finished."
Hermione, finishing up her last line, nodded. "Well, that should free us up for the summer."
Just then, Ron walked over, looking at them in disbelief. "Blimey, you two are still doing those?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We just finished, actually, Ronald. You could have been done too if you had joined us."
Ron scoffed. "And stay cooped up in here for days on end? No thanks. I'd rather do it over the summer than spend an entire week like you two."
Neville rolled his eyes. "Well, we won't have to worry about it now," he said, packing his books into his bag. "And if we don't hurry, we might be late for the End-of-Year Feast."
Ron's stomach growled, and he grinned. "Yeah, I'm starving."
Hermione closed her book and sighed. "I hope Harry can join us."
To avoid a trip back to the dorms, Neville stuffed Hermione's books into his bag, so they could head straight to dinner. slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Neville yawned and said, "I have a feeling that he will."
As they climbed through the Gryffindor portrait hole, Neville's thoughts drifted back to everything that had happened over the past few days.
It had been a week since the Quirrell incident.
Neville, Hermione, and Ron had been cleared from the hospital wing the morning after, but Harry had remained unconscious for three days after his confrontation with Quirrell and Voldemort and was still under Madam Pomfrey's care.
Somehow, by the next evening, the entire school had heard about their late-night adventure.
Neville was certain it was Dumbledore's doing—because how else would everyone know some version of the events when all of them had been in the infirmary that night? The only person who knew everything was Dumbledore himself.
Either way, the damage had been done.
Since the whole school knew, Ron and Hermione had now joined Neville in being ostracized by most of Gryffindor. Many students believed their reckless actions had cost them even more points.
Things only got worse after Gryffindor lost their final Quidditch match of the season—losing the Quidditch Cup entirely, all because their Seeker had been unconscious in the hospital wing.
While waiting for Harry to wake up, Neville and Hermione spent their time doing their summer homework. Ron, however, vehemently disagreed with them about doing homework so soon and instead chose to hang out with his brothers.
Thanks to Ron's blabbering about what had happened, the entire school quickly found out about their adventure. Of course, Ron told his own version of the story—one that conveniently painted him in a better light.
Gradually, the ostracization they had faced began to lessen. Even the rest of the first years slowly started talking to them again. Many students approached Neville and Hermione, asking them what had really happened. Neville, however, got far more attention than he wanted—especially after people found out that he had defeated another troll.
When Harry finally woke up, they all went to visit him.
Harry explained everything—how Quirrell had been after the Stone, how Voldemort had been living on the back of Quirrell's head, and what had happened when he touched Quirrell.
Neville, of course, already knew all of this, so he stayed quiet. Instead, he casually mentioned, "Fred and George hit the Dark Lord in the face with snowballs."
The image of You-Know-Who getting pelted with snowballs made Harry, Ron, and Hermione chuckle.
Harry then told them something else—something Dumbledore had said to him. "He said the Flamels decided to destroy the Stone."
Neville rolled his eyes. Yeah, right. After six hundred years, they're suddenly afraid of a weak ghost Voldemort? But he didn't say that out loud.
Then Harry added something that made Neville pause.
"He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know? I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident that he let me find out how the Mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…"
Neville blinked for a second. So even Harry recognizes that Dumbledore was manipulating things…
This is going to make things much easier, he thought, smiling to himself.
They reached the Great Hall, where students were still filing in, the low hum of chatter filling the vast space.
As soon as Neville, Hermione, and Ron stepped inside, a wave of murmurs spread through the hall. Eyes turned toward them, whispers following in their wake.
Ignoring the stares, Neville made his way toward the far end of the Gryffindor table, where the rest of the Gryffindor first years were seated. He deliberately chose a seat closest to the professors. He knew exactly what was about to happen.
Dumbledore would pull his usual last-minute points stunt, rig the House Cup in Gryffindor's favor, and manipulate Harry even further. Neville had no interest in being caught up in the over-the-top celebration that would follow.
Hermione sat beside him, while Ron slid into the seat across from them.
As they settled down, Neville greeted the others. "Hey there, guys. What are you all talking about?"
"Not much, mate. Just summer plans," Seamus said, leaning forward eagerly. "I might be going to see Ireland's qualifying match. What about you lot?"
Neville shrugged. "Dunno, don't really have anything planned. Probably just spend time with Gran and do some research," he said, lying smoothly. He did have a few plans for the summer, but he wasn't going to share them.
Lavender, twirling a strand of her hair, gave him a look. "You want to study even during summer break? Merlin, Neville, you need to get a hobby." She shook her head before adding, "As for me, my parents are taking me to France for a few weeks. We'll be visiting a magical market in Paris—I can't wait."
Hermione perked up instantly. "You mean Place Cachée?" she asked excitedly. "I really hope I can visit while we're there! I've heard it's completely different from Diagon Alley."
Parvati grinned. "Different magical markets have their own style—it all depends on the culture," she said knowingly. "Me and my sister are going to India to visit relatives. The wizarding bazaar there is nothing like the ones here! I'm hoping to buy some enchanted jewelry."
"What about you, Ron?" Lavender asked.
Ron groaned dramatically. "I'll be stuck at home with Percy, who'll be going on about how he's a prefect now, and the twins, who'll probably prank me all summer." He sighed heavily, slamming his head on the table. "I'm not looking forward to it. It's going to be a nightmare."
Dean chuckled. "As for me," he said, "I'll just be at home in London. Probably play some football with my mates and try not to use magic by accident." He shook his head. "It's gonna be hard after getting used to it all year."
Seamus laughed. "Yeah, same here. I accidentally tried magic over winter break, and my mum nearly killed me for it. Reckon she'd ground me until second year if I tried again."
The group chuckled, falling into easy conversation as the Great Hall continued to fill.
They shared a laugh, but the Hall suddenly fell silent. Neville turned to see what had caused the hush and spotted Harry entering. The entire room stared as he headed their way.
Ron waved. "Over here, mate!"
Harry approached with a small smile. "Hey, guys," he said, taking a seat next to Ron.
Hermione beamed. "You made it!"
Neville looked him over. "so Madam Pomfrey finally let you leave, huh?"
Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah, I had to beg her to let me come to the End-of-Year Feast." He glanced around, fully aware of all the eyes on him.
Seamus smirked. "Glad you made it, mate. I thought Pomfrey might keep you in the hospital wing all summer," he joked.
Just then, the Hall quieted again as Dumbledore stood and walked to the podium.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, his voice carrying through the Great Hall.
"And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into this delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were…"
There were a few chuckles throughout the hall.
"But of course," Dumbledore continued, "you all have a whole summer ahead to empty them again before next term starts…"
There was more light laughter, but Neville stayed silent, knowing what was coming next.
"Now," Dumbledore went on, "as I understand it, we still need to award the House Cup. The points stand thus:
"In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points. "In third place, Gryffindor, with four hundred and twelve points. "In second place, Ravenclaw, with four hundred and twenty-six points. "And in first place, Slytherin, with four hundred and seventy-two points."
Cheers erupted from the Slytherin table. Malfoy pounded his goblet, grinning smugly. Dumbledore, however, merely smiled.
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," he said. "However, recent events must be taken into account."
The entire hall fell silent. The Slytherins' cheering died away.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ahem. I have a few last-minute points to distribute… Let me see… Yes."
Neville maintained a neutral expression. Here we go, he thought.
"First," Dumbledore announced, "to Mr. Ronald Weasley—for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor twenty points."
The Gryffindor table roared in celebration. Percy puffed out his chest, boasting to anyone who would listen that it was his youngest brother who had bested McGonagall's giant chess set. Neville clapped along with everyone else, though he noted that Ron's award was less than in the version he remembered from the films.
The hall eventually settled.
"Second—to Miss Hermione Granger," Dumbledore continued, "for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor twenty points."
Hermione buried her face in her arms, overwhelmed with emotion. Neville smiled and patted her on the back as Gryffindors up and down the table erupted with cheers—they were only a twenty points behind now!
Then, Dumbledore spoke again. "Third—to Mr. Neville Longbottom...for defeating a troll, not once, but twice, I award Gryffindor House twenty points."
The applause was thunderous. Gryffindors screamed, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs applauded, and even some Slytherins looked impressed. Those quick enough at mental arithmetic realized that Gryffindor was now tied with Slytherin at four hundred and seventy-two points apiece.
Dumbledore raised his hand for silence. "Last, but not least—to Mr. Harry Potter… for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor twenty-five points."
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the hall exploded. Anyone outside the Great Hall might have thought a bomb had gone off. The roar of celebration was so loud that Neville was sure they could hear it in Hogsmeade.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione leapt up, cheering. Neville quietly slipped back from the table a bit, watching the wild celebration unfold.
Dumbledore's voice rang out over the uproar. "Which means," he called, beaming, "we need a little change of decoration."
With a clap of his hands, the Slytherin banners draped high above them dissolved into the scarlet of Gryffindor. The silver snakes transformed into golden lions that roared from the cloth.
"And now," Dumbledore concluded, "let us eat!"
As the cheers finally diminished and everyone took their seats, the feast appeared: platters of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, buttered corn, and countless other delicious dishes.
Neville returned to sit beside Hermione, who was practically glowing. "Can you believe it, Neville? We won!"
Neville picked up a piece of chicken. "Yeah," he said quietly, taking a bite.
He could believe it.
He'd seen it coming all along.
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