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Hogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 25
🕑 Added 2024-12-17 12:29:52 +0000 UTCA Neville SI Chapter 25
Neville groaned internally. “Of course, the whole dragon egg thing with Hagrid,” he thought, yet he couldn’t deny feeling a bit excited at the thought of seeing a real dragon.
“But it’s against wizarding law,” said Ron, keeping his voice low. “Has been for ages—Breeding dragons was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709. Everyone knows that. And it’s not as if you can keep a dragon secret for long. Too much fire, too much danger. My brother Charlie works with them in Romania and he’s got loads of burns. Letting a dragon loose around here would be mad.”
“But are there wild dragons in Britain?” Harry asked, curious.
Ron gave a small shrug. “A few, yeah. There are Common Welsh Greens and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic keeps them hidden from Muggles. They’ve got folks whose whole job is to Memory-Charm Muggles who spot them. I heard my dad talking about it once.”
Hermione glanced at the books. “So what is Hagrid doing looking up dragons at a time like this? He knows it’s against the law. It might have something to do with what he’s guarding for Dumbledore. Or maybe he’s just being—well, Hagrid.”
….
They were sitting at the Gryffindor table, the Great Hall buzzing with chatter as dinner was in full swing. The golden glow of floating candles reflected off the enchanted ceiling, which showed the darkening sky outside. At the head table, only Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Sprout were present, quietly eating their meals.
Neville sat opposite Hermione, barely touching his food, lost in thought. His mind kept circling back to his parents and how he could help them. He stared blankly at his plate, poking at a piece of chicken with his fork.
“Oi, Neville!” Seamus plopped down beside him with such force that Neville was startled snapping him out of his thoughts.
Oh, hey,” Neville said, blinking and offering a quick nod in greeting.
“I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere, mate!” Seamus said, his brow furrowed. “Where’ve you been?”
Neville rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, um… the library. Why? What’s up?”
Dean leaned over from across the table, grinning. “We needed someone for five-a-side. Thought you’d want to join in since you love footie.”
Seamus jumped in before Neville could respond. “Yeah, you missed it! We played against the Hufflepuffs and won. A fourth-year Gryffindor joined us last minute.”
Neville sighed, a touch of regret crossing his face. “Ah, man, I missed it? I’ve been looking forward to that.” Over the past few months, playing football had become a popular pastime for the Muggle-borns, thanks to Dean bringing a ball back after the Christmas break.
“Don’t worry, mate,” Dean said reassuringly, “we’re playing again tomorrow evening against Hufflepuff. Same time.”
Neville perked up and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll definitely be there.”
The Great Hall gradually began to empty as students finished their meals. Neville took one last bite of his dinner, then stood up with the rest of the Gryffindors, trailing behind them as they moved toward the doors.
He walked along absentmindedly, his thoughts drifting again, when a familiar voice pulled him back.
“Neville!” Hermione grabbed his arm and tugged him to the side, her bushy hair bouncing slightly as she turned to face him.
Neville blinked in confusion. “Uh? What’s wrong, Hermione?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot!” Hermione scolded, hands on her hips. “Hagrid asked us to wait for him after dinner, remember?”
Neville’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh… right!” He shook his head, grinning sheepishly. “I completely forgot. Thanks, Hermione.”
the rest of the Gryffindors noticed Neville and Hermione staying behind, Lavender called out, “Aren’t you lot coming with us?”
“Hagrid asked to see us,” Harry explained.
Seamus shrugged. “Alright, well, have fun, then. See you back in the common room.”
As the hall emptied, Harry frowned slightly. “You reckon Hagrid’s going to talk about the Stone again?”
Ron shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Probably. What else would it be about?”
Neville tuned out the conversation as the four of them waited quietly near the entrance.
“Neville?” Hermione’s soft voice brought him back to reality. She was looking at him, her brow furrowed with worry. “Are you okay? You’ve been a bit… off ever since the Christmas break.”
Neville blinked and forced a small smile. “Uh, it’s nothing, Hermione. Just thinking,” he said, waving her concerns away with a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine.”
Hermione didn’t look entirely convinced, but before she could say anything else, the large doors to the Great Hall creaked open, and everyone turned to look. Hagrid entered, his heavy boots echoing against the stone floor, and walking alongside him was none other than Professor McGonagall.
“Here they are, Professor,” Hagrid said as they stopped in front of Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron.
Neville’s raised an eyebrow. "Why’s Hagrid here with McGonagall? Did he… did he rat us out?" Neville’s thoughts as he exchanged quick glances with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. By the looks on their faces, they were all thinking the same thing. "No, that doesn’t make sense. Dumbledore wants Harry to know about the Stone, doesn’t he? "
Before Neville could dwell on it any further, Hermione straightened up and stammered nervously, “Good evening, Professor.”
“Good evening, Professor,” Neville quickly added, sound normal. Harry and Ron mumbled their greetings as well, a little less composed.
McGonagall nodded at them, her sharp gaze moving from one to the other. “Good evening,” she replied crisply. “Now, Hagrid tells me that you four have been asking about Mooncalves?”
Neville blinked. Mooncalves? The word rang a faint bell, but it still caught him off guard. He vaguely remembered asking Hagrid about them months ago and had completely forgotten since.
“Mooncalves?” Hermione repeated, her voice laced with confusion, clearly expecting McGonagall to reprimand them for snooping around about the Philosopher’s Stone.
“Yeah, Mooncalves,” Hagrid said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension. “Neville’s been askin’ me a few times about ‘em. Thought today’d be a good night for yeh lot to see.”
McGonagall cleared her throat, pulling their attention back to her. “Yes, well,” she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. “You may accompany Hagrid to see the Mooncalves tonight. However, I expect you all to follow his instructions and use caution. While Mooncalves are relatively harmless, accidents can still happen, and I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”
They all nodded quickly, a mix of relief and curiosity on their faces. “Yes, Professor,” Neville said, with Hermione and Harry echoing him immediately.
Satisfied, McGonagall nodded once more. “Very well. I’ll leave you in Hagrid’s care. Good night.”
“Good night, Professor,” they chorused as McGonagall turned on her heel and swept out of the Great Hall, her robes swishing behind her.
Hagrid clapped his hands together, his grin wide and excited. “Right then, come along, you lot! No time to waste.”
With that, he ushered them out of the Great Hall and down the stone corridors, carrying a large lantern that cast a warm golden light around them. The crisp evening air hit them as they stepped outside, the castle doors closing softly behind them.
As they made their way across the grounds, Harry finally spoke up. “So, Hagrid—did you really bring us out here to see Mooncalves?”
“Course I did!” Hagrid said, beaming. “Tonight’s a full moon. Mooncalves only come out then. Yeh lot are in for a treat!”
They followed Hagrid as he stopped briefly outside his hut to collect two large buckets, each one sloshing softly with grainy feed. He handed one to Neville. “Here yeh go, Neville. This is fer the Mooncalves. Careful not to spill it.”
Neville took the bucket carefully, glancing inside to see what looked like a glowing, silvery feed. “What’s in here?” he asked curiously.
“Mooncalf pellets,” Hagrid replied, hefting his own bucket. “They love it. Keeps their coats all shiny, yeh know.”
As they continued down the path toward the hills, Harry asked another question. “So where do they live, Hagrid? These Mooncalves.”
“In burrows underground,” Hagrid replied, holding the lantern high to light their way. “They’re shy creatures, they are—don’t come out much except durin’ a full moon. Hogwarts has a Mooncalf den that’s been here fer centuries.”
Hermione, walking beside Neville, lit up with excitement. “I’ve read about them in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them! It says Mooncalves dance in the moonlight during a full moon. That’s how they leave those strange patterns.”
“Patterns?” Ron asked, wrinkling his nose. “What d’you mean?”
“You know,” Hermione replied patiently, “those patterns found in crop fields—circles and swirls that Muggles think are made by aliens? It’s actually Mooncalves. They’re the ones who make them.”
Hagrid chuckled, nodding his approval. “Righ’ you are, Hermione! They dance in the moonlight, leaving them patterns behind. Part o’ their mating ritual, yeh see. It’s somethin’ magical to watch.”
After a while of walking, they climbed a hill and reached a tall, gnarled tree. The moonlit clearing spread out below them, and Hagrid held up his hand, signaling for them to stop.
“There they are,” he said softly, pointing toward the open space.
“They’re so cute!” Hermione whispered, barely able to contain her excitement.
Neville stood his face a mixture of awe and delight. 'They look just like they did in the movie,' he thought. The Mooncalves moved with slightly clumsy energy, almost like overly excited puppies that still managed to behave themselves. They nibbled on the grass or playfully bumped into one another.
“Blimey,” Ron muttered, taking a step back. “They’re a bit freaky-looking with those huge eyes, though.”
“Don’t be daft, Ron. They’re lovely,” Hermione countered, glaring at him before taking a few careful steps forward.
Hagrid placed his bucket on the ground and gestured for the others to do the same. “Alright, now, take some o’ the pellets and toss ‘em gently. The Mooncalves’ll come over.”
Following Hagrid’s instructions, they each grabbed a handful of the glowing feed and scattered it into the clearing. The pellets floated gently in midair, hovering just at the perfect height for the Mooncalves.
The Mooncalves immediately perked up, their wide, glowing eyes fixing on the floating pellets. With graceful, yet slightly clumsy steps, they trotted forward to eat, their pale, shimmering coats gleaming in the moonlight.
A group of smaller Mooncalves—babies, by the looks of them—waddled toward the feed, their spindly legs carrying them with an adorable wobble. Neville couldn’t help but smile as they moved, their tiny, curious faces peering up at him. They were so endearing, like gentle, oversized puppies eager for attention.
Hermione let out a high-pitched squeal as one of the baby Mooncalves came close. “Oh, you’re adorable!” she exclaimed, scooping it up gently to feed it by hand. The creature nibbled happily, its wide eyes blinking up at her.
Neville knelt down as a few of the baby Mooncalves approached him, holding out handfuls of pellets. “You’re even better up close,” he murmured, grinning as one of them ate directly from his palm.
Harry smiled, watching the scene unfold as he tossed more pellets. “They’re not what I expected,” he said quietly.
As they fed the Mooncalves, Harry glanced at Hagrid, seizing the opportunity while they were alone. “Hagrid, we wanted to ask you… about the Sorcerer’s Stone and Fluffy.”
Ron nodded, adding quickly, “Yeah—who else is guarding it besides you?”
Hagrid froze mid-throw, his face going pale in the glow of the full moon. He quickly glanced around the clearing, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Hush! Not here. You lot shouldn’t be talkin’ ‘bout that out in the open.”
The group fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances. Hagrid sighed heavily and muttered, “Come on. Let’s get you back to me hut.”
After tossing the last of the glowing pellets to the Mooncalves, Hagrid led them back up the winding path toward his hut. The lantern bobbed in his hand, its warm light guiding the way.
As they walked, Neville couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks for taking us to see the Mooncalves, Hagrid. That was… amazing. Seeing them in person is so much better than just reading about them in a book.” His voice was lighter now, more at ease than it had been in weeks. For the first time in a while, Neville relaxed.
Hermione, who had noticed how relaxed Neville seemed during their time with the Mooncalves, smiled softly. “Yes, thank you, Hagrid. Can we come see them again sometime?”
Hagrid let out a booming laugh. “Course yeh can! Yeh just let me know when yeh want ter visit ‘em. Mooncalves are always glad fer a bit o’ attention.”
By the time they reached Hagrid’s hut, the night had grown cooler. Inside, however, it was sweltering. The blazing fire in the grate made the small room feel like an oven, despite the warm evening outside. Hagrid set the lantern down, stoked the fire a bit more, and gestured for them to sit at the table.
“Sit yerselves down,” Hagrid said cheerfully. He pulled out a kettle to make tea, whistling softly to himself, and laid out a plate of suspicious-looking sandwiches. “Tea’s comin’, and I’ve made some stoat sandwiches if yeh’re hungry.”
“Er, no thanks, Hagrid,” Ron said hastily, his nose wrinkling at the sight of the sandwiches.
As Hagrid poured the tea, he turned back to them. “So—yeh wanted to ask me somethin’?”
Neville, sitting quietly, wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation. His gaze drifted toward the fireplace, where something large sat nestled among the flames. It was an egg. 'That must be the dragon egg,' he thought, narrowing his eyes. 'It’s surprisingly small for what’s supposed to be inside. If I’m correct, it’s not much bigger than an ostrich egg'.
Meanwhile, Harry decided not to waste any time. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Sorcerer’s Stone—apart from Fluffy.”
Hagrid frowned, his thick eyebrows pulling together. “O’ course I can’t tell yeh that,” he said gruffly. “Number one, I don’ know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh even if I could. That Stone’s here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—bet yeh’ve worked that out too, haven’t yeh?” He shook his head. “Beats me how yeh even know about Fluffy.”
“Oh, come on, Hagrid,” Hermione said, her voice warm and coaxing. “You might not want to tell us, but you do know, don’t you? You know everything that goes on here.”
Hagrid’s beard twitched, and though he tried to hide it, they could tell he was smiling. Harry and Ron grinned at Hermione, clearly impressed by her tactic.
“We just wondered,” Hermione continued innocently, “who Dumbledore trusted enough to help him, apart from you.”
Hagrid’s chest swelled with pride at her words, and he couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little. “Well… I s’pose it couldn’t hurt ter tell yeh that much,” he admitted, ticking off his fingers as he spoke. “Let’s see… he borrowed Fluffy from me, o’ course… Then some o’ the teachers did enchantments. Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—”
He paused, scratching his head. “Professor Quirrell—an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone…” His face scrunched up in thought before it brightened. “Oh yeah—Professor Snape.”
“Snape?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione said almost in unison, their voices sharp with disbelief.
“Yeah,” Hagrid replied firmly. “Yeh’re not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone—he’s not about ter steal it.”
Harry exchanged a glance with Ron and Hermione, and he knew they were all thinking the same thing. If Snape was one of the ones protecting the Stone, then he probably knew how to get past all the other teachers’ enchantments. Everything except Quirrell’s spell—and how to get past Fluffy.
“You’re the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren’t you, Hagrid?” Harry asked anxiously. “And you wouldn’t tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?”
“Not a soul knows, except me an’ Dumbledore,” Hagrid said proudly, puffing up his chest.
“Well, that’s something,” Harry muttered to the others, trying to sound reassured.
Hagrid busied himself pouring another round of tea, but Harry shifted uncomfortably and wiped at his forehead. “Hagrid, can we open a window? I’m boiling.”
“Can’t, Harry, sorry,” Hagrid said quickly. His eyes darted nervously toward the fire.
Harry followed his gaze and frowned. Something was there—right at the center of the fire, just below the kettle. He leaned forward, his voice slow and deliberate. “Hagrid… what’s that?”
Hagrid shifted awkwardly, fiddling with his beard. “Ah… that’s, er…”
Ron crouched closer to the fire, his face lit up with curiosity. “That’s an egg! It’s massive. Where did you get it, Hagrid? It must’ve cost a fortune.”
“Won it,” Hagrid said proudly. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks, got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was glad ter get rid of it, to be honest.”
“But what are you going to do with it once it hatches?” Hermione asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’,” Hagrid said eagerly, pulling a large, battered book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library—Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit. It’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire ‘cause their mothers breathe on ‘em, see. And when it hatches, feed it a bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. And look here—this part shows how ter recognize diff’rent eggs. What I’ve got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them!”
Hagrid looked thoroughly pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t share his excitement. She looked around the hut, her expression incredulous. “Hagrid… you live in a wooden house.”
But Hagrid wasn’t listening. He hummed cheerfully as he stoked the fire, clearly picturing himself as the proud father of a baby dragon.
The group left Hagrid’s hut a short while later, their heads spinning with what they’d just seen and heard.
“That’s mad,” Ron muttered as they trudged back toward the castle. “A dragon in a wooden house! Hagrid’s going to set the whole place on fire.”
“Not to mention he got it off some stranger,” Hermione added, shaking her head. “Doesn’t he think that’s suspicious?”
Harry nodded, deep in thought. “Yeah, but he won’t listen to us. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him. Dragons are illegal for a reason.”
The four of them made it back to Gryffindor Tower, their conversation buzzing with worry and excitement over Hagrid’s new egg. Inside the common room, students were sprawled out, working on homework or chatting by the fire. Neville slipped away quietly to take a shower, letting the warm water wash away the chill from the evening air.
A little while later, Neville walked back into the dormitory, drying his hair with a towel. His eyes drifted to his bedside table, where a letter sat neatly folded and sealed. He paused mid-step, cursing under his breath. I forgot to send this to Gran.
Harry was gathering his things to head for a bath when Neville walked over. “Harry,” he said, holding up the letter, “mind if I borrow Hedwig to send this?”
Harry looked up and nodded with a smile. “Sure, mate. She’ll be happy to have something to do.”
Neville grinned back. “Thanks.”
He made his way over to the snowy white owl perched near the window. Hedwig hooted softly, tilting her head curiously as Neville approached. “Hey, girl,” Neville said gently, holding out the letter. “Can you take this to Augusta Longbottom at Longbottom Manor?”
Hedwig gave another happy hoot, as if she were agreeing. Neville tied the letter carefully to her outstretched leg and stroked her soft feathers. “Thanks, Hedwig. Safe flight.”
The owl gave a small flap of her wings, then soared gracefully out of the open window, disappearing into the night. Neville watched her until she was nothing more than a small speck against the dark sky.
With a sigh, he turned back to his bed and collapsed onto it, still damp from his shower. The day had been long, but seeing the Mooncalves had brought him a surprising sense of peace. He closed his eyes, listening to the muffled sounds of his dorm mates settling in for the night.
