A Neville SI

A Neville SI Chapter 19

Hermione glanced at the others. "Well, we'd better get going," she said, standing up. "Thank you for the tea, Hagrid."

"Yeah, cheers," Ron added, getting to his feet.

Neville sighed as he stood up with the others. "Thanks, Hagrid, and don't forget about the Bowtruckles and Mooncalves."

"Won't forget," Hagrid nodded. "I'll let yeh know when we're goin'."

As they made their way to the door, Hagrid called after them, "Now, promise me yeh won't go meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. That dog's there fer a reason."

"Of course, Hagrid," Harry replied, giving him a reassuring smile.

Once outside, Neville couldn't help but grin. "Can't wait to see Mooncalves and the Bowtruckles!" He was giddy; he'd been wanting to see magical creatures for ages, and now he had the chance. He was over the moon.

"Getting off topic again, Neville," Harry said shaking his head. "We've got to find out who Nicolas Flamel is."

"I've heard the name somewhere," Hermione mused thoughtfully. "I'll have a look in the library."

Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Of course you will."

…

It was mid-December, and Christmas was fast approaching. Hogwarts was enveloped in a blanket of snow; the once lush green grounds transformed into a vast expanse of white, glittering under the pale winter sun. Neville Longbottom walked down the corridor towards the dungeons, taking a hearty bite of the warm toast he'd snagged from the Great Hall before setting off.

"Ready for Potions, Neville?" Hermione Granger asked, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck as she caught up with him.

Neville turned to face her, adjusting the strap of his satchel. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied with a slight smile. "Though I wish it wasn't so dreadfully cold down in the dungeons."

Hermione nodded sympathetically. "Tell me about it. It's colder down there than anywhere else in the castle."

Together, they made their way down the moving staircases, joined by Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and the rest of the first-year Gryffindors. The chatter among the students was a mix of excitement for the upcoming holidays and grumblings about the biting temperatures.

As they descended into the dungeons, the air grew noticeably chillier. Their breaths formed small clouds, and Neville pulled his cloak tighter around himself. The stone walls seemed to radiate cold, and he couldn't help but shiver slightly.

Inside the Potions classroom, Professor Snape stood at the front, his dark eyes surveying the students as they took their seats. Neville and Hermione settled at a workstation near the middle. Today, they would be brewing the Wiggenweld Potion—a healing concoction that, when made correctly, could awaken someone from a magically induced sleep.

"Instructions are on the board," Snape said in his usual monotone. "You have one hour. Begin."

Neville collected the ingredients listed on the board: Wiggentree bark, moly, dittany, horklump juice, flobberworm mucus, seven Chizpurfle fangs, billywig sting slime, a sprig of mint, Boom Berry juice, one stewed mandrake, honeywater, sloth brain mucus, moondew drops, salamander blood, ten lionfish spines, unicorn horn, and wolfsbane.

He carefully brought the listed ingredients back to his table, laying them out neatly.

Hermione glanced over their setup, nodding approvingly.

"Let's start by heating the cauldron to a gentle simmer," she suggested.

Neville looked down at the recipe in his potions book—the instructions for brewing the Wiggenweld Potion were detailed and precise. He felt a bit anxious but was determined to get it right.

They worked together, carefully measuring and adding ingredients. Neville crushed the lionfish spines into a fine powder while Hermione prepared the horklump juice. The familiar sounds of bubbling potions and the murmur of students filled the dungeon classroom.

As Neville was grinding the lionfish spines, Draco Malfoy's loud and obnoxious voice cut through the ambient noise.

"I do feel so sorry," Malfoy drawled loudly during the Potions class, "for all those poor souls who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home." He cast a sly glance over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled appreciatively.

Neville glanced up to see Malfoy smirking in Harry's direction. Harry, who was calmly measuring out his own powdered spine of lionfish, seemed determined to ignore them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match where Gryffindor had triumphed.

Having failed to unsettle Harry with his previous jibes, Malfoy had reverted to mocking him about not having a proper family. It was a cruel dig, even for Malfoy, and it made Neville's stomach churn with unease.

Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying at the castle over the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. Neville remembered the look on Harry's face—resigned but not surprised.

As for Neville, he had received a letter from his gran just a week prior, asking him to come back home for the holidays. She had mentioned wanting to spend time with him and thought it would be a good opportunity for Neville to learn more about their family history. Neville wasn't exactly looking forward to it. He felt awkward, knowing that he wasn't the original Neville and had essentially taken his place. A pang of guilt tugged at him, but he decided he should spend time with Augusta since he was her only family left as well.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Hermione's huff of annoyance. "Honestly, Malfoy is insufferable," she whispered to Neville. "He always has to make a scene, doesn't he?"

Neville shrugged lightly. "Some people are just like that," he replied. "Best to ignore him, really."

Malfoy had long since stopped targeting Neville. After several unsuccessful attempts to bully him—which Neville met with calm indifference—Malfoy seemed to lose interest. There was also that one incident when Malfoy and his cronies tried to hex Neville in the corridor. Without a second thought, Neville had turned his wand on them and cast "Petrificus Totalus," leaving them immobilised on the floor. The memory brought a slight smile to his face.

"Add the moly leaves now," Hermione instructed, pulling Neville's attention back to their potion.

He carefully sprinkled the shredded leaves into the simmering liquid, watching as it turned a soft shade of green.

"Longbottom, less chatting, more brewing," Snape called out sharply. "Ten points from Gryffindor for talking in class."

Neville exchanged a glance with Hermione but said nothing. Snape had been particularly harsh on him ever since the assignment incident. Since then, Neville had lost more than a hundred points—more than Harry and the other Gryffindors combined in that time frame.

"Time's up," Professor Snape's voice sliced through the classroom chatter. "Stop whatever you are doing."

They were among the first to complete their potion. Hermione ladled a sample into a vial, and Neville carried it up to Snape's desk.

Snape held the vial up to the light, scrutinising its colour and consistency. "Acceptable," he said curtly, setting it aside. Neville nodded and returned to his seat.

Neville released a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. "I think that's the closest to a compliment we'll ever get from him," he whispered.

Hermione chuckled softly. "I'll take it."

As the class ended, Neville and Hermione packed up their materials. Harry and Ron joined them at the door.

Neville glanced over at Harry. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Malfoy's just being Malfoy."

Neville nodded in understanding. "If you need anything over the holidays, you can always owl me."

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said appreciatively. "I might just do that."

"How did it go?" Ron asked.

"Not too bad," Neville replied. "We managed to get the potion right."

"Better than ours," Ron admitted sheepishly. "Ours was a bit... thick."

They made their way up from the dungeons, the cold air gradually giving way to the slightly warmer corridors above.

They found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Evenin', you lot," Hagrid beamed, his face nearly hidden behind a massive fir tree. "Gettin' the last o' the trees up to the Great Hall."

"Hi, Hagrid! Need any help with that?" Ron offered eagerly.

"All sorted, but cheers for asking," Hagrid replied, brushing a bit of snow from his beard.

Neville pulled out his wand. "Here, Hagrid, let me lighten the load for you. Wingardium Leviosa!"

The tree lifted gently off the ground, easing Hagrid's burden. "Much appreciated, Neville," Hagrid said with a grateful grin.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Trying to earn some extra pocket money, Weasley? Hoping to become the next gamekeeper when you leave Hogwarts, are you? That hut of Hagrid's must seem like a mansion compared to what your family's used to."

Ron flushed with anger and lunged at Malfoy just as Professor Snape appeared at the top of the stairs. "Weasley!" Snape barked sharply. Ron released his grip on Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor," Hagrid said, peering around the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules," Snape replied silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and consider yourself fortunate it's not more. Move along, all of you."

Snape's gaze shifted to Ron and then fixed on Neville, who still had his wand out. "Wands away in the corridors," he snapped. "Another five points from Gryffindor."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed past the tree with smug grins, scattering pine needles across the floor.

Neville calmly lowered his wand, unfazed by Snape's reprimand. Hagrid frowned slightly but said nothing as Snape and Malfoy moved on.

"I'll get him one of these days," Ron muttered through gritted teeth, glaring after Malfoy.

"I can't stand either of them," Harry said, his eyes following Snape's retreating figure.

"Don't let them get to you," Hagrid said reassuringly. "Now, how about you all come and see the Great Hall? It's looking right festive."

They agreed and followed Hagrid toward the Great Hall. The corridors were adorned with garlands of holly and mistletoe, and the warm glow of lanterns cast a cozy light on the stone walls.

Inside the Great Hall, the sight was simply breathtaking. Twelve towering Christmas trees stood majestically around the room, each adorned with shimmering ornaments, enchanted snowflakes, and twinkling fairy lights. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were adding the final touches, the latter charming golden bubbles to float gracefully onto the branches from his wand.

"It's absolutely beautiful," Hermione breathed, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Couldn't agree more," Neville replied.

"How many days have you got left until your holidays?" Hagrid asked, his eyes twinkling beneath his shaggy eyebrows.

"Just the one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me. Guys, we've got half an hour before lunch; we should be heading to the library."

Neville groaned softly. "Really? Must we?"

Hermione gave him a pointed look. "Yes, we must."

"The library?" said Hagrid, trailing after them as they left the hall. "Right before the holidays? You're a keen lot, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not off to study," Neville decided to explain. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, these three have been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked genuinely startled. "Now listen here—I've told yeh before—drop it. It's none of your business what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," Hermione persisted.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added hopefully. "We've combed through hundreds of books already and haven't found a thing—just give us a hint—I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm not sayin' another word," Hagrid said firmly.

"Looks like we'll just have to find out on our own, then," Ron sighed.

Hermione seized Neville's arm. "Come on, we need to get a move on." and they left Hagrid looking rather disgruntled as they hurried off towards the library

Neville allowed himself to be dragged along, casting a wistful glance back at the festive hall.

Neville sighed as they reached the library. He already knew who Nicolas Flamel was but had decided not to let the others know. Revealing his knowledge would only lead to awkward questions about how he knew, and he wasn't keen on explaining that. Hermione would undoubtedly press him for details, perhaps even ask which book he'd read it in. Given that she spent so much time with him, she'd find it suspicious that she hadn't noticed him reading any texts on alchemy—which he hadn't. Besides, Neville wasn't even sure which book actually mentioned Nicolas Flamel and besides this kept them occupied.

"Alright, let's split up and search," Hermione instructed, pulling him from his thoughts.

"I'm going to check the Magical History section," Harry said.

"And I'll look into famous alchemists," Ron added.

"Yeah, you do that," Neville muttered, heading towards a quiet table near the back. Instead of joining their fruitless search, he pulled out his holiday assignments. There was an essay for Transfiguration and another for Charms that he needed to finish.

After a while, Hermione returned with a towering stack of books and settled across from him. She eyed his open notebook. "Neville, why aren't you helping us look?"

He glanced up, meeting her gaze. "I've got other things to do," he replied, gesturing to his assignments. "I'd rather finish these now and enjoy my holidays without any homework hanging over me."

Hermione pursed her lips but then nodded. "I suppose you're right. We do have a lot of work due after the break."

They settled into a comfortable silence, each absorbed in their own tasks. The quiet atmosphere of the library allowed Neville to focus, and he found himself making good progress on his essays.

Time passed quickly, and the bell ringing signaled that it was lunchtime. Classes were officially over for the term.

Neville began packing up his things. "Come on, Hermione, I'm starving. " he asked.

She looked up from her book, stretching slightly. She sighed. "sure."

"Here, let me help you with those," Neville offered, stacking her books back onto the trolley.

"Thanks, Neville," she said with a grateful smile.

They left the library and met up with Harry and Ron in the corridor.

"Any luck?" Harry asked, his expression a mix of hope and frustration.

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing. I've looked everywhere. It's as if he doesn't exist."

Neville shrugged as they walked towards the Great Hall. "Maybe you're overcomplicating it. Sometimes the answer is right under your nose."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just that perhaps you're looking in the wrong places," Neville replied enigmatically.

As they entered the Great Hall, the aroma of roasted meats, fresh bread, and sweet puddings filled the air. The long tables were laden with dishes, and the chatter of students created a lively atmosphere.

They took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Neville helped himself to a generous portion of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes.

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