Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 63
Ron scratched the back of his neck, sighing. "Look… I'm sorry for what I said before the break. I didn't mean any of it, alright? I just thought you were ditching me and ended up acting like a prat."
Neville and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Harry.
Harry's face flickered through a few expressions — annoyance, confusion, then finally a tired sigh. "It's alright, mate. I get it."
Hermione let out a quiet breath. She'd half expected them to start arguing again. "Well, I'm going to go put my things away," she said, turning toward the girls' dorm. "I'll meet you two back here in a bit."
As she walked off, Neville turned to Ron. "So, how was your Christmas?"
Ron scowled. "Oh, it was awful, mate. I had to stay here with Malfoy — and of all the people, it had to be him. Absolute git the whole time. Wouldn't shut up, kept being a right pain. Real nightmare."
They started walking up the stairs toward their dormitory. "Oh — and thanks for the gift," Ron added, glancing at Neville.
Neville gave a small nod in return. "No problem."
Once they reached the dorm, Harry asked,"Any attacks while we were gone?"
Ron shook his head. "Nah… though that might be 'cause there weren't any Muggle-borns left in the castle over break."
…
Sunday, January 17th, 1993 – Black Lake, Hogwarts
The afternoon sun hung low but bright above the Black Lake. Snow blanketed Hogwarts in a thick white sheet, but unlike the blizzards they'd had the year before, today's weather was crisp and calm. The sky was clear, with just the lightest dusting of snowfall drifting lazily through the air — the perfect kind of winter day that had students pouring out of the castle to make the most of it.
It'd been two weeks since winter break ended, and the chaos of school life had come back in full force — homework, assignments, classes piling up — enough to make the weekend feel like a gift from Merlin himself.
Near the lake, groups of students were ice skating across the frozen surface, while others sat nearby laughing, chatting, or lobbing snowballs at one another.
Earlier, before the break, Professor Flitwick had enchanted the Black Lake with several charms to ensure the ice stayed firm, even when the snow piled thick on top, so students could skate safely without fear of falling in.
Neville stood at the edge of the lake, dressed in a red and gold jumper bearing the Gryffindor crest, grey wool trousers, and a matching scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. Lumina's pouch was clipped to his side.
He bent down slightly, tapped his shoes with his wand, and muttered a quiet spell. His regular soles shimmered and morphed into proper ice skates.
"Right then, let's see if I still remember how to do this," Neville muttered to himself.
The moment he stepped onto the ice, the confidence came rushing back. His movements were smooth and steady, muscle memory kicking in from his past life. He'd been ice skating plenty of times before — back when he'd lived in the Muggle world — so it didn't take long for him to start gliding across the surface with ease.
He picked up speed, wind brushing against his face as he made a wide loop. His breath came out in puffs, but he was grinning.
As he curved around again, he glanced back toward the lake's edge and spotted Harry, Hermione, and Ron still standing where he'd left them.
"Huh," Neville muttered, narrowing his eyes. "What're they still doin' there?"
He coasted to a stop in front of them with a casual hockey stop, sending a spray of snow and ice their way.
Neville blinked. "Huh… what are they doing just standing there?"
He changed direction and glided towards them. With a quick turn and a spray of ice, he came to a clean hockey stop right in front of the trio.
"Oi," he said, eyebrows raised, "what's wrong with you lot? Why aren't you on the ice yet?"
Harry and Ron were dressed for the weather — Harry in a grey jumper with a navy scarf, and Ron bundled up in a thick coat and a black snow cap pulled low over his ears.
Ron scowled and pointed at the ice. "That… is what's wrong. No way I'm getting on that death trap without falling on my face."
"Multiple times," Harry added, though he was smiling.
Neville chuckled. "You won't fall — well, maybe once or twice, but that's part of the fun."
Hermione rubbed her gloved hands together nervously. "Err… it looks a bit difficult."
Neville grinned. "Ah, it's not that hard. Just give it a go — it'll be fun!"
He gestured out at the lake. "Look, everyone's doing it."
Kids were laughing and skating all across the ice — some gliding gracefully, others wobbling along with flailing arms. "All right, all right," Ron muttered, stepping forward reluctantly.
The moment his foot touched the ice, he wobbled… and with a loud thump, went straight down on his backside.
Neville laughed.
"You've got to keep your knees bent, Ron — it helps with balance!"
"Yeah, easy for you to say. You're not the one eating snow," Ron grumbled, pushing himself up again.
He tried once more, standing slowly, only for his feet to shoot out from under him again. Thud! Back down he went.
Harry stepped forward next, a bit more cautious. He managed to get both feet on the ice without falling, arms stretched out like wings for balance.
"This is a bit like balancing on a broom," he said. But then he wobbled, arms flailing, "Whoa—whoa—!"
Neville quickly grabbed his arm. "Steady there, mate."
Harry nodded, still holding onto him. "Yeah, thanks mate. So… how do I actually move?" Harry asked, letting go of Neville's hand
Neville skated a short distance ahead, turning to demonstrate. "Right — keep your feet in a little 'V' shape. Then give a gentle push outward with each foot. Like this." He glided forwards, showing them the motion. "See?"
Harry watched, then gave it a go, "I think I'm getting the hang of this!" he said, grinning.
Neville gave him a nod of approval. "Yeah, just like that! And to stop, spread your legs out like this—" He demonstrated the snowplough stop.
Harry watched, then gave it a go. He came to a wobbly but successful stop, arms flailing slightly before he found his balance. "Hey, that actually worked!"
"Nice one," Neville said, already pushing off again. "Now try gliding a bit."
Harry followed, cautiously pushing off and starting to glide again. "This is actually fun," he admitted.
Luna drifted up beside him, skating backwards with ease. "You're doing well, Harry," she said dreamily, her radish earrings bobbing as she moved.
Harry blinked at her. "Thanks, Luna... but wait how are you doing that?" He watched her skates with disbelief.
Luna glanced down as if noticing for the first time. "Oh, this? It's quite easy, really. It's just like walking backwards, but on ice. You should try it."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, I think I'll stick to going forwards for now."
"Suit yourself," Luna said with a shrug, and continued to skate beside him, hands clasped behind her back.
Neville looked over his shoulder and called out, "I think you're getting the hang of this, Ron!"
Ron had just managed to stay upright, his arms flapping for balance as he took slow, awkward strokes. "Barely!" he grunted, eyes fixed on his skates.
Just then, Fred and George Weasley skated up with wide grins.
"Oi oi, make way!" Fred cried.
"Here to save the day," George added.
Their sudden appearance startled Ron, who teetered dangerously. Before he could fall, both twins grabbed an arm each and hauled him back upright.
"Steady there, Ronnikins," Fred said, laughing.
"Operation: Teach Ron to Skate is officially a go," George declared.
Ron flailed in their grip. "Oi! Gerroff! I can do it meself!"
"Relax, brother of mine," Fred said, steering him. "We've got this under control."
"By the end of this lap, We'll have you flying. i mean sliding effortlessly," George grinned.
With that, the twins shuffled him forward in a series of clumsy zigzags. Ron's eyes were wide with panic, but he somehow stayed upright—for about three seconds.
Then all three of them toppled over in a spectacular tangle of limbs and scarves. A ripple of laughter spread across the rink from nearby students.
Neville clapped slowly, smirking. "Ten out of ten for style, lads."
"Shut it," Ron groaned, red-faced but laughing as he untangled himself from his brothers. "I nearly had it."
"Sure you did," Fred wheezed, lying flat on his back.
"Just needed a little less flailing and a bit more balance," George added, rubbing his elbow.
Neville glanced back and spotted Hermione standing stiffly at the edge of the lake, arms crossed and looking more uncertain than cold. He pushed off and skated over to her, stopping just in front of her.
"You know, Hermione," he called with a teasing smile, "you're missing out on all the fun."
Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around her and gave him a look. "I'm fine with that, thank you very much," she said primly. "Happy to watch from right here."
Neville tilted his head. "Are you scared?"
She huffed, arms folding tighter across her chest. "Of course I am! I've never even seen real ice skates before today. What if I fall and break my arm or something?"
Neville extended his hand, palm up, his expression soft. "I promise I won't let you fall. Come on. It's fun, honest."
Hermione stared at his hand for a moment, biting her lip. Then she let out a sigh. "Alright... but if I end up with a broken arm, you're doing all my homework."
Neville grinned. "Deal."
She took his hand gingerly and stepped onto the ice, her ankles immediately wobbling. She let out a soft gasp as her balance tipped.
Neville chuckled, steadying her with one hand. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'm right here. Just keep your knees bent slightly—like mine. See?"
Hermione gave a small nod, mimicking his stance. Her skates wobbled for a moment, but she managed to steady herself.
"That's it," Neville encouraged. Then he pushed off gently, sliding backwards as he guided her across the ice. "See? Not that hard, is it?"
Hermione gave him a look but said nothing. Truthfully, she didn't want to admit she was actually starting to enjoy it.
Hermione glided to a cautious stop beside him, her cheeks pink from the cold and maybe just a bit of nerves. "How are you so good at this?" she asked, half-amazed, half-accusing.
Neville scratched the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. "Er—just one of those things, I reckon. Like how Harry's brilliant on a broom. Maybe it's muscle memory or something… maybe I've skated before i lost my memories."
After a while, she'd gotten the hang of it enough to skate on her own — still a bit stiff, but steady.
Neville skated next to her, gliding backwards with a grin. "Told you it'd be fun. Honestly, you picked it up faster than I expected. Next, we'll have to work on flying."
Hermione shot him a flat look. "The day I enjoy flying on a broom is the day Professor Snape says something nice about Neville in front of the class."
Neville snorted. "So never, then?"
Before she could swat at him, a magically amplified voice echoed across the grounds, unmistakably Professor McGonagall's.
"All students are to return to their common rooms immediately. I repeat, all students are to head to their respective common rooms at once. Prefects, please assist with escorting the students."
Neville and Hermione stopped skating and looked at each other.
Harry skated over quickly, worry written across his face. "What do you reckon that's about? McGonagall sounded… shaken."
Hermione bit her lip. "Could it be another attack?"
Neville nodded. "Yeah, most probably."
A Ravenclaw prefect cupped his hands and shouted, "All right, everyone—off the ice and back inside! Move it!"
Neville offered Hermione his arm. "Come on. Let's grab our things."
She took it without hesitation, and they skated back to where they had left their belonging. "Whatever happened," Neville said, "we'll find out soon enough."
…
The Gryffindor common room was packed. Every student in the House had returned, filling the space with anxious murmurs and tense energy. An hour had passed since they were all called back inside, and the rumour spreading through the castle was chilling — there had been another attack.
Neville, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together near the fire under a Muffliato spell.
Hermione looked around nervously, then leaned in and whispered, "Who do you think it was this time? It definitely wasn't someone from Gryffindor… or Someone would've noticed if one of us was missing by now."
Ron frowned, arms crossed. "Probably someone from another House. I heard—" he lowered his voice, "—it was a prefect this time."
Harry's brow furrowed. "But why didn't I hear it this time…".
Neville nodded. "That's probably 'cause we were outside the castle. You only hear it when you're inside the castle."
Then the portrait hole swung open, and Professor McGonagall stepped into the room, tartan shawl trailing behind her, face drawn and lips pressed into a thin line.
Neville quickly ended the Muffliato.
"May I have your attention, please," she said briskly, though her voice wavered slightly beneath the usual firmness. The room fell silent. All eyes turned to her.
McGonagall looked around at the gathered students, then unrolled the parchment she held in one hand.
"Due to recent events," she said clearly, "a new set of rules will be going into effect immediately."
Her eyes scanned the paper as she read aloud: "All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a member of staff. All Quidditch training and matches are suspended until further notice. There will be no more evening activities."
She paused for a breath, then rolled the parchment shut with a tight snap.
Her voice dropped slightly as she added, "I need hardly say the school has rarely been so distressed. If the person responsible is not caught soon, Hogwarts may be closed." Her gaze swept the room, eyes steely behind her spectacles. "If anyone knows anything at all — even the smallest detail — I urge you to come forward."
With that, she gave a stiff nod and turned, climbing somewhat awkwardly back through the portrait hole. The room erupted into nervous chatter the moment she left.
Neville leaned toward the others. "Come on," he murmured, jerking his head toward the stairs.
They slipped away from the crowd and climbed up to the boys' dormitory. As soon as they were inside, Neville flicked his wand and muttered, "Muffliato."
The room went comfortably quiet, the outside noise fading into a dull hum.
Harry was the first to speak. "Do you think they'll actually close the school?" he asked, his voice low but tense.
Hermione nodded, worry etched across her face. "Yeah… most likely. It's getting too dangerous. We've been lucky so far — no one's died."
Neville shook his head, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "I don't think they will. At least… not yet."
Ron gave him a look. "What d'you mean? You heard McGonagall — she said if this keeps up, they'll shut it down."
Neville ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "If it keeps going like this, then yeah, they might. But Hogwarts… it's too important, Ron. To the Ministry. To the whole country, really. It's not just about safety — it's political. Hogwarts is one of the oldest magical schools in the world. Shutting it down would send the wrong message."
Neville took Lumina gently from his shoulder pouch and placed her in the little cushion nest on his bedside table. She chirped happily, curling into the soft fabric and fluffing her feathers. "Remember? What Gran told us before, the Minister's already putting pressure on Dumbledore to arrest Hagrid. Now that another student's been attacked, he's probably going to push even harder."
Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "But that's… that's awful! Hagrid's not the Heir of Slytherin. Arresting him isn't going to solve anything!"
Harry nodded grimly. "Yeah, we know. But the Minister's not after the truth — he just wants someone to blame. A scapegoat. And Hagrid… he was the one they blamed last time, wasn't he?"
Neville gave a slow nod. "Exactly. Unless we know who the Heir actually is, there's not much we can do."
Neville lay back on his bed with a quiet sigh, eyes staring up at the ceiling.
Hermione glanced between them, hesitant. "Should we… should we tell a professor? About what we've found so far?"
But Neville cut in before she could finish. "Like I said before. Dumbledore probably already knows. Everything that happens in the castle." He glanced at Harry as he spoke,. " Us telling him won't make much difference."
Harry met Neville's gaze and gave a small, reluctant nod. "So... he wants me to confront Tom Riddle myself, doesn't he?"
Hermione looked between the two of them, clearly uneasy, but didn't argue.
"Probably, " Neville nodded as he kept staring at the ceiling, his brow furrowed. 'Should I just let them shut the place down?' he wondered. 'Dumbledore will lose pull if that happens, that's good … but if the school closes, everything becomes unpredictable. and The diary might vanish."
If you wish to support this story, please join me at patreon.com/Tilct
please contribute some power stone'