A Neville SI Chapter 20
"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.
….
Neville sat in the Great Hall, finishing the last bites of his hearty breakfast. The aroma of bacon and sausages lingered in the air, mingling with the warm scent of freshly toasted bread. He had opted for a full English breakfast that morning—bacon, sausages, fried eggs, and toast. A glass of orange juice sat beside his plate, the condensation forming tiny droplets that trickled down the sides.
Across from him, Hermione had already polished off her meal and was now engrossed in the pages of the Daily Prophet. Her brow furrowed occasionally as she scanned the headlines, her fingers absentmindedly twirling a strand of her bushy brown hair.
"Anything interesting in there?" Neville asked, taking a sip of his orange juice.
"Just the usual nonsense," Hermione replied without looking up. "Although there's an article about new potion regulations that's quite intriguing."
"Sounds absolutely riveting," Neville said with a wry smile.
Beside him, Seamus was finishing his own breakfast with gusto. Harry sat on Neville's other side, his eyes wide with fascination as Ron animatedly explained something about Quidditch which neville pointedly ignored.
A bit further down the table, Lavender and Parvati were giggling over an article in Witch Weekly, pointing at the latest fashion trends and whispering excitedly.
Neville glanced around the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling above showed a clear winter sky, flecked with delicate snowflakes that vanished just before they reached the students below. The hall buzzed with chatter, everyone abuzz with plans for the upcoming holidays. Thick sweaters and scarves were the order of the day, warding off the castle's persistent chill.
Finishing his orange juice, Neville set the glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Turning to Seamus, he asked, "Do you remember what time the train leaves today?"
Seamus leaned back, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Not entirely sure, mate," he admitted. "Think it's half nine, same as when we came in September."
Hermione looked up from her newspaper. "It's at half past nine," she confirmed crisply. "But the carriages to Hogsmeade leave at half eight sharp." She glanced pointedly at the large clock mounted on the wall above the staff table. "Which means we should really get a move on."
Neville followed her gaze. "You're right," he said. "I still need to finish packing."
Ron stretched lazily. "Plenty of time," he said dismissively. "What's the rush?"
"Some of us like to be punctual," Hermione retorted
Neville stood up, pushing his chair back. "I should probably check that I've got everything," he said. "Last thing I want is to forget something important."
"Like your toad," Seamus chuckled.
"Exactly," Neville agreed, not entirely sure if Seamus was joking.
He turned to Harry and Ron. "Are you two coming? We're heading back to the common room to grab our things."
"Yeah, might as well," Ron said, finally conceding.
Harry nodded.
Lavender and Parvati gathered their belongings and joined the group. "Wait up!" Parvati called. "We'll come along."
Seamus nudged Dean, who was doodling on a piece of parchment. "Come on, Dean, time to get moving."
The group of first-year Gryffindors made their way out of the Great Hall, their footsteps echoing off the stone floors. The castle was alive with activity, students hurrying to and fro, portraits chattering amongst themselves. managing to reach the Fat Lady's portrait without incident.
"Password?" she asked, eyeing them over the rim of her goblet.
"Fortuna Major," Neville supplied.
"Correct," she said, swinging forward to reveal the entrance to the common room.
Once inside, the group began to disperse. "See you in a bit," Neville said to the others. "Just need to pack a few more things."
"Don't take too long," Hermione cautioned. "We should leave in about fifteen minutes."
"Ten," she added, seeing Ron's complacent expression.
Neville climbed the spiral staircase to the boys' dormitory, Seamus and Dean following close behind. The room was in its usual state of disarray—robes tossed over beds, books piled haphazardly, and the occasional sock lying forlornly on the floor.
Neville began gathering his belongings, checking under his bed and inside drawers to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He carefully placed his Herbology notes into his trunk, followed by a small potted plant—a gift from Professor Sprout.
"Don't forget Trevor," Dean reminded him, nodding toward the toad sitting contentedly on Neville's pillow.
"Right, thanks," Neville said, scooping up Trevor and placing him gently into a ventilated box.
Seamus was wrestling with his own trunk, trying to force it closed. "Why does it feel like I have more stuff now than when I arrived?" he grumbled.
With some effort, they managed to get their trunks secured. Neville wrapped a thick scarf around his neck and pulled on his gloves. "Ready to go?"
"All set," Dean replied, hoisting his trunk.
They made their way back down to the common room, where Harry and Ron were engaged in a heated game of wizard chess near the roaring fireplace.
"Who's winning?" Neville asked, setting his trunk down and taking a seat.
"Pawn to c4," Ron declared, watching as his pawn dutifully moved to the square.
Harry sighed, scratching his head. "I'm rubbish at this," he admitted. "Ron beats me every time."
Ron grinned. "You're not awful, Harry—you just need a bit more practice, that's all."
Neville leaned in, observing the board intently. "Have you played much before, Harry?" he inquired.
Harry shook his head. "Not until I came to Hogwarts."
Just then, Hermione approached, pulling her suitcase behind her. She stood beside them, watching the game unfold.
"Knight to e5," Harry said, and his white knight trotted to the designated spot.
"Queen to e5," Ron countered. His queen slid across the board, then dramatically took the chair the knight was sitting on and slammed it down, shattering Harry's knight into pieces.
Hermione watched as the captured piece exploded into a puff of smoke. "Honestly, wizard chess is so unnecessarily violent," she remarked with a hint of disapproval.
Looking rather smug, Ron added, "That's wizard's chess for you." Then, noticing Hermione's luggage, he said, "I see you've already packed."
"I see you haven't," Hermione retorted, raising an eyebrow.
"Change of plans," Ron explained. "I'm staying, my family's heading to Romania to visit my brother Charlie."
Neville picked up one of the broken fragments, which wriggled slightly in his hand. "Fascinating," he murmured. "I wonder how they're enchanted. Do you suppose they have runes inscribed on them?"
Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "Never really thought about it, to be honest. It's just wizard's chess."
"Well then," Hermione said thoughtfully, "you can help Harry look for Nicolas Flamel while I'm away."
Ron groaned. "But we've searched like a hundred times already!"
"Not everywhere," Hermione leaned in, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "We haven't checked the Restricted Section."
Neville grinned. "Hermione Granger suggesting we break the rules? Whatever next?"
Hermione gave him a playful swat on the shoulder. "Oh, hush. But seriously, we haven't explored there yet."
"Yeah, because it's restricted," Ron pointed out. "Clues in the name."
"What's so important about Nicolas Flamel, anyway?" Dean asked, wandering over to join the conversation.
"Just some extra credit work," Harry said quickly, exchanging a glance with Hermione.
"Extra credit over the holidays?" Seamus chuckled, shaking his head. "You lot are absolutely barking mad."
"Hang on," Ron interjected. "Why can't we just enjoy the holidays without all this sleuthing about?"
"Because it's important," Hermione insisted. "And if you won't help, then I'll have to rely on Harry and Neville."
"Alright, alright," Ron conceded. "But I'm not making any promises."
Hermione turned to Harry. "You'll keep looking, won't you, Harry?" When he nodded, she added, "Send me an owl if you find anything."
"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," suggested Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."
"Very safe, considering they're both dentists," Hermione replied dryly.
Harry then turned to Neville. "You could ask your gran, Neville. She might know who he is."
This caught Ron and Hermione's attention. Hermione exclaimed, "Of course! You could ask your grandmother! Why didn't I think of that?"
Neville shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose I could ask her, if I remember."
Hermione grabbed Neville's shoulder and gave him a little shake. "Oh, come on, Neville, please? It's been driving me mad!"
Neville, trying to free himself, said, "Alright, alright, I'll ask her! Just stop shaking me!"
Neville glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. "We really ought to get going," he said.
"Agreed," Hermione replied, lifting her suitcase with some effort.
Noticing her struggle, Neville tapped his wand on the suitcase, making it float. "Here you go," he offered.
She smiled warmly. "Thank you, Neville."
They gathered their belongings and headed towards the portrait hole. "See you after the holidays," Neville said to Harry and Ron.
"Have a good Christmas," Harry replied.
The corridors were bustling with students making their way to the entrance hall. Their chatter echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the distant sounds of shifting staircases and whispering portraits.
As they stepped outside, the crisp winter air nipped at their faces. The grounds were blanketed in a light layer of snow, the white expanse stretching out towards the Forbidden Forest.
Neville paused as they approached the line of carriages waiting to take them to Hogsmeade Station. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Standing silently were skeletal horses with leathery wings and blank, white eyes.
"Thestrals," he whispered, a chill running down his spine. A knot tightened in his stomach. "Why can I see them?" he thought, his mind racing.
"Is it because I've... I died?" He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering near the muzzle of one of the Thestrals.
"Oi, Neville!" Seamus called from the carriage. "What are you doing over there? Come on!"
Neville snapped out of his reverie. "Right, sorry!" he called back, withdrawing his hand. He decided not to mention the Thestrals; it wasn't something he felt ready to share.
"Everything alright, Neville?" Hermione asked, noticing his sudden stillness.
He blinked, pulling himself back to reality. "Yeah, just... thought I saw something," he said vaguely.
She followed his gaze but saw nothing unusual. "We should get on the carriage," she suggested gently.
"Right," Neville agreed, tearing his eyes away from the creatures.
He climbed into the carriage, taking a seat next to Seamus and across from Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati.
Seamus looked at him quizzically. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he remarked.
"Just a bit chilly," Neville lied, rubbing his hands together.
The carriage began to move, gliding smoothly along the path. Neville couldn't help but steal another glance out the window, catching sight of the Thestrals' eerie forms pulling them forward.
"What were you staring at earlier?" Lavender asked curiously.
"Probably admiring the snow," Parvati suggested.
"Something like that," Neville muttered.
Hermione gave him a thoughtful look but didn't press the matter.
"So, what are everyone's plans for the holidays?" Seamus asked, breaking the silence.
"Visiting family," Lavender said. "My aunt's coming over from France. She always brings the best sweets."
"I'm spending time with my sister," Parvati added. "We might go shopping in Diagon Alley."
"Sounds fun," Dean said. "I'm just looking forward to Mum's cooking. Nothing beats a home-cooked meal."
"What about you, Neville?" Hermione prompted.
"Oh, I'm not sure," Neville replied. "Gran mentioned in her letter that we'll be spending some time together. Other than that, I don't know much."
"What about you, Hermione?" Parvati asked. "Any exciting plans?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," she said. "Just spending time with my parents. Maybe catch up on some reading."
"Of course," Seamus chuckled. "Wouldn't be a holiday without books, would it?"
Neville leaned back in his seat, trying to push thoughts of the Thestrals out of his mind. Instead, he focused on the rhythmic motion of the carriage and the pleasant chatter of his friends.
Before long, they arrived at Hogsmeade Station. The platform was alive with activity, steam billowing from the Hogwarts Express as students hurried aboard.
"Here we go," Dean said, hefting his trunk.
They found an empty compartment and settled in, stowing their luggage overhead. As the train whistle sounded, they felt the gentle lurch of movement.
A while later, their compartment was interrupted. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" came the voice of the trolley witch.
They all indulged, purchasing a variety of treats to share. Neville bought a few Chocolate Frogs and some Sugar Quills, and Dean bought a packet of Every Flavour Beans. The sweets were met with both delight and disgust, depending on the luck of the draw.
"Ugh, earwax," Seamus grimaced, prompting laughter all around.
"I don't know how anyone could eat this," Neville said, examining a bean between his fingers. He popped it into his mouth and immediately spat it out. "Grass! It tastes like fresh grass."
"At least it's not vomit-flavoured," Dean said, tossing one into his mouth.
They spent the journey playing games, sharing stories, and enjoying each other's company. Neville found himself relaxing, the earlier unease fading away.
As the sky outside began to darken, Hermione pulled out a book and nestled into a quiet corner. Neville watched her for a moment before turning back to the window. The countryside sped past, a blur of snow-dusted fields and distant lights.
"Almost there," Dean observed, glancing at his watch.
Neville felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing his gran, but at the same time, he felt sorry for her.
The train finally pulled into King's Cross Station. The platform was bustling with families eagerly waiting to greet their children.
"Well, this is us," Seamus said, standing up and stretching.
They gathered their belongings and made their way onto the platform. Neville spotted his grandmother immediately—her tall figure and distinctive crow hat standing out in the crowd.
"She looks... impressive," Parvati remarked.
"That's one way to put it," Neville said with a small smile.
They exchanged goodbyes, promising to write over the holidays and see each other soon.
"Take care, Neville," Hermione said, giving him a quick hug. "And happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas," he replied.
"Don't forget to ask your gran," Hermione whispered as they parted.
"I won't," Neville assured her.
As he approached his gran, she greeted him with a warm embrace. "Neville, dear, you look well," she said, her eyes shining.
"Hello, Gran," he replied. "It's good to see you."
"Come along, let's get you home," she said, taking charge and holding out her hand for Neville to grasp.
When he did, she instructed, "Hold tight, okay? Remember, don't let go." Neville nodded, and Augusta apparated them both out of King's Cross station.
Neville felt a pulling sensation, as if he were being squeezed through a tube, and then it was over. They landed in front of a large gate, and beyond it stood an impressive manor house, the setting sun casting a warm glow behind it.
Seeing the manor, Neville said, "That's huge," as he let go of Augusta's hand.
She straightened her clothes and, with a smile, said, "Welcome to Longbottom Manor, Neville," as the gates opened.
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