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Hogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 28
🕑 Added 2024-12-31 18:34:07 +0000 UTCHogwarts: Neville’s Insert Chapter 28
Neville shrugged, setting the note back on the table. “Well, I was wondering when it might be,” he said casually before taking another bite of his sandwich. it had been over a month and they still havent been assigned thier detention yet neville thought. As he chewed, Neville couldn’t help but think, ‘Dumbledore was probably waiting for Quirrell to go after the unicorns. It made sense in a way.’
Hermione leaned over and plucked the note from Neville’s hands, reading it quickly. “Detention at eleven o’clock at night? That seems late, even for Filch,” she said, her tone tinged with concern.
Neville shrugged again, unbothered. “Filch probably thinks it’ll scare us more if it’s dark,” he replied, taking another bite of his sandwich. “Can’t imagine it’ll be anything good, though.”
Hermione’s frown deepened as she passed the note back to Neville. “Well, you’ll need to be careful,” she said, her tone serious. “Filch is bound to make it as awful as possible.”
“Not like we have a choice,” Harry muttered, folding his note back into a square and stuffing it into his pocket.
…
Neville and Harry sat by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, the warm glow of the flames casting flickering shadows across the walls. The room was nearly empty, save for the four of them—Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron.
Ron leaned back in his chair, trying to sound reassuring. “Don’t worry, mate. Filch’ll probably just have you two cleaning or something. Fred and George always end up scrubbing the trophy cabinet when they’re in trouble.”
Harry frowned, staring into the fire. “Then why do it at eleven?” he asked, his tone edged with frustration. “Honestly, I don’t care what it is as long as it’s over quickly.”
Hermione was unusually quiet, biting her lip as if debating something. Finally, she spoke. “Maybe…” She trailed off, clearly uncertain. The late hour didn’t make sense to her either, and her eyes darted nervously between Harry and Neville.
Neville already knew the answer, though he kept it to himself. The forest, he thought grimly. 'Dumbledore’s waited until now because Quirrell needs to drink unicorn blood to keep Voldemort alive.' The thought made his stomach churn. Dumbledore’s manipulations were as intricate as they were infuriating, and Neville didn’t like how much the Headmaster controlled events from the shadows.
Sighing, Neville glanced up at the clock. It was nearing eleven. He stood, brushing his robes. “Well, we’d better get going,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation.
Harry stood as well, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. The sooner we’re done with it, the better,” he muttered, already dreading whatever awaited them.
“Be careful, you two,” Hermione said, following them to the portrait hole. Her brow furrowed with worry as she added, “Ron and I will wait for you to come back.”
Neville sighed, his face softening slightly. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks. Bye, guys.” He turned toward the entrance, bracing himself for what was to come.
“Good luck,” Ron added, waving them off.
Harry and Neville made their way down the staircases to the Entrance Hall. As they descended the final staircase, they spotted Filch and Malfoy,
Malfoy was glaring at them as Neville and Harry approached, his arms crossed and his expression full of disdain. Filch, meanwhile, gave them a creepy smile as he raised his lamp,
“Good, you’re here on time,” Filch said gruffly. “Come on, follow me.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and began leading them across the castle grounds.
As they walked, Filch launched into one of his usual tirades. “I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won’t you, eh?” he sneered, leering at them over his shoulder. “Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers, if you ask me. It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out. Hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days—that’d teach you proper. I’ve still got the chains in my office, kept ‘em well-oiled, just in case they’re ever needed again. Right, off we go, and don’t think of running off now. It’ll be worse for you if you do.”
Neville rolled his eyes, tired of Filch’s attempts at intimidation. “Oh, that sounds like fun,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Might just break some more school rules to try it out.”
Filch stopped abruptly, spinning around to glare at Neville. “Think you’re smart, do you?” he snapped. “I’ve seen plenty like you, boy. Let’s see if you’re still running that mouth after tonight.”
Neville yawned exaggeratedly. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Can we just get on with it?” he replied flatly. His patience was already worn thin, and the prospect of meeting Quirrellmort in the forest was far more pressing than Filch’s bluster.
Harry and Malfoy exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsure how to react to Neville’s nonchalance. Filch grumbled under his breath but turned back around and continued leading them down the path.
The small group eventually reached Hagrid’s hut, its warm glow standing out in the darkness. A distant shout rang out: “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started!”
Harry let out an audible sigh of relief at the sound of Hagrid’s voice, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Filch, on the other hand, scowled. “I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf?” he snarled at Harry. “Well, think again, boy. It’s into the forest you’re going, and I’ll be surprised if you all come out in one piece.”
At this, both Harry and Malfoy stiffened. Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks, his usual confidence evaporating. Neville could see Harry glance nervously at the dark line of trees in the distance, his face pale in the lamplight.
“The forest?” Malfoy repeated, his usual smugness replaced with a tremor of fear. “We can’t go in there at night—there’s all sorts of things in there—werewolves, I heard!”
“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” Filch said, his voice cracking with malicious glee. “Should’ve thought about those werewolves before you got yourself in trouble, shouldn’t you?”
Neville sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. ‘Honestly, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day,’ he thought. “People affected by lycanthropy only turn into werewolves on a full moon,” he said aloud, pointing up at the sky where a half-moon gleamed faintly through the clouds. “And it isn’t one, is it? Besides,” he added dryly, “do you really think any sane person would let werewolves roam freely near a castle full of teenagers? That’d be a disaster waiting to happen.”
then thought to himself, ‘Though, with how reckless Dumbledore is, who knows? He might just do that.’
Malfoy’s pale face turned slightly red, but he didn’t retort. Harry stifled a laugh beside him, and even Filch’s glee faltered momentarily at Neville’s bluntness.
From the shadows, Hagrid emerged, striding toward them with Fang at his heels. The boarhound’s tail wagged lazily, and Hagrid himself carried a massive crossbow, with a quiver of arrows slung over his broad shoulder. “Abou’ time,” Hagrid said gruffly. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry? Neville?”
“I wouldn’t get too friendly with them, Hagrid,” Filch interjected coldly. “They’re here to be punished, after all.”
“That’s why yer late, is it?” Hagrid said, frowning as he turned his gaze to Filch. “Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ’Snot your place ter do that. Yeh’ve done yer bit—I’ll take over from here.”
Filch scowled but didn’t argue. “I’ll be back at dawn,” he said nastily, turning on his heel. As he stalked back toward the castle, his lamp bobbed in the darkness like a distant will-o’-the-wisp. “For what’s left of them,” he added, his voice faint as he disappeared into the shadows.
Malfoy, now visibly unsettled, turned to Hagrid. “I’m not going in that forest,” he said, his voice higher-pitched and tinged with panic.
Hagrid’s face darkened as he loomed over Malfoy. “Yeh are, if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts,” he said fiercely. “Yeh’ve done wrong, and now yeh’ve got ter pay fer it.”
“But this is servant stuff!” Malfoy snapped, his tone bordering on a whine. “It’s not for students to do. I thought we’d be copying lines or something. If my father knew I was doing this, he’d—”
“—tell me that’s how it is at Hogwarts?” Hagrid growled, his voice deep and rumbling. “Copyin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather yeh were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on.”
Malfoy’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no words came out. Neville crossed his arms and watched with mild amusement, while Harry bit back a grin. For once, Draco Malfoy had nothing to say.
Malfoy didn’t move. He glared furiously at Hagrid, his jaw tight, but after a tense moment, he dropped his gaze and muttered something under his breath.
“Right then,” said Hagrid, his tone firm. “Now, listen carefully, 'cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight, an’ I don’t want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.”
Sighing, Neville followed after Hagrid, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. He was on high alert, his eyes scanning the darkened treeline for any movement. The forest loomed ahead like a wall of black, the air carrying a faint, damp chill.
Hagrid led them to the very edge of the Forbidden Forest, holding his lamp high as he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick, shadowy trees. A light breeze rustled through the underbrush, lifting their hair as they stared into the oppressive darkness.
“Look there,” said Hagrid, holding the lamp higher and illuminating a silvery trail on the ground. “See that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there been hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. Might have ter put it out of its misery.”
“And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” Malfoy asked, his voice betraying his fear despite his best efforts to sound cool.
“There’s nothin’ that lives in the forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,” Hagrid reassured him. “An’ keep to the path. Right, now, we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place; it must’ve bin staggerin’ around since last night at least.”
“I want Fang,” Malfoy blurted out quickly, his eyes darting nervously to the boarhound’s long, sharp teeth.
“All right,” Hagrid said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips, “but I warn yeh, he’s a coward.”
Neville, who had remained quiet so far, stopped Hagrid before the group could split. “Actually, Hagrid,” he said, his tone measured, “why don’t you take Malfoy with you? You can keep him in line, and me and Harry can handle Fang.”
Hagrid frowned thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he considered Neville’s suggestion. After a moment, he nodded. “All right then. Malfoy, yer with me. Harry, Neville, you two take Fang.” He looked at all of them, his expression serious. “Remember, if yeh find the unicorn, send up green sparks. If anyone gets into trouble, send up red sparks, an’ we’ll come find yeh. Got it?”
Neville and Harry nodded silently as they split off from Hagrid and Malfoy, heading down their own path into the forest.
Neville raised his wand. “Lumos,” he murmured, the tip of his wand illuminating their surroundings with a pale glow. “Might as well get started,” he said quietly, his eyes darting around.
Harry followed his lead, casting his own Lumos as they walked close together, the light from their wands overlapping. They followed the faint trail of unicorn blood, glistening silver under their wandlight.
They wandered the forest for over an hour, following the faint silvery trail until it abruptly ended, leaving them aimless. For the next half-hour, they walked in circles,
Finally, Fang sniffed at the ground, letting out a low whimper before leading them to a fresh trail of blood. Neville exchanged a wary glance with Harry.
Harry knelt beside a puddle of the silvery liquid, holding his wand close to it for a better look. “It’s getting thicker,” he said, his voice hushed. Tentatively, he touched the blood with his fingers and winced slightly. “It’s still warm. We must be close.”
Neville nodded, his jaw tightening as he became even more alert. His gaze swept the surrounding trees, every nerve in his body on edge.
They followed Fang deeper into the forest, their light barely cutting through the suffocating darkness. The trees grew denser, their branches tangling into a canopy that blocked out even the faint glow of the half-moon. The air felt heavier, and the stillness was deafening.
Finally, they reached a clearing. Neville stopped abruptly, his gut tightening as he took in the eerie silence. His breath caught as his worst fears were confirmed. We’re here, he thought grimly. Quirrellmort.
“Look,” Harry murmured, pointing to the center of the clearing. Lying on the ground was a large, bright white unicorn, its lifeless body glistening in the faint light.
Before Harry could say more, Neville quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. “Shh,” Neville hissed quietly, his voice barely audible. His eyes were locked on the cloaked figure crouched over the dead unicorn, its dark robes billowing slightly in the faint breeze. The sight was horrifying—like something straight out of a nightmare. The figure leaned over the unicorn’s neck, its hood obscuring its face as it drank the silvery blood.
Neville’s mind screamed a single thought: 'We need to leave. Now.' Slowly, he began stepping backward, pulling Harry with him. His movements were careful and deliberate, and his only goal was to retreat without making a sound.
But fate wasn’t on their side. Both boys tripped over a gnarled root, the sudden fall startling Fang, who let out a loud bark before bolting into the woods.
“Damn it,” Neville muttered under his breath, cursing himself as he scrambled to his feet. He grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him up, only to see Harry clutching his forehead, his face twisted in pain. Harry’s hand covered his lightning scar, and he winced as though it were burning.
Neville’s eyes shot back to the clearing. The cloaked figure had turned toward them, as the hooded figure began advancing.
Panic surged through Neville. He raised his wand, “Diffindo!” The severing charm shot from his wand with a bright flash, slicing through the air toward Quirrellmort.
But Quirrell flicked his wand effortlessly, deflecting the Diffindo to the side. The spell struck a tree behind him, slicing it cleanly in half and The top half crashed to the ground with a deafening thud.
The figure snarled, raising its wand. “Crucio!” he spat, a jet of white light streaking toward them.
Neville reacted instinctively, shoving Harry to the side while diving in the opposite direction. The curse missed them both, hitting the ground with a burst of sparks. Scrambling to his feet, Neville raised his wand again. “Diffi—”
The curse hit him before he could finish.
Neville’s world exploded in a blinding white light as pain engulfed him, sharp and excruciating. His wand slipped from his grasp as his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, screaming.
“AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!” he cried, his body writhing uncontrollably. The pain was all-consuming.
Through the haze, he could faintly hear Harry calling his name, but the pain was too overwhelming to process anything else. All he could think was one desperate ‘Make it stop.’
