Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 98
"And… is there a spell to turn them back into their human selves? Would a Finite work?"
McGonagall shook her head. "No, Mr Longbottom. Finite ends ongoing enchantments. An Animagus form is not a maintained spell—it is a true, physical transfiguration. There is no magical thread for Finite to sever."
She moved to the chalkboard, tapping it once. "However, there is a counter-spell: RevertoAnimagus. It forcibly restores an Animagus to their human form. It is an extremely advanced spell—taught only at N.E.W.T. level, and performed under strict supervision."
Neville nodded slowly—only for McGonagall to narrow her eyes at him. "And why, pray tell, are you so interested in Animagi today, Mr Longbottom? You are not planning to become one yourself, I hope. If so, I strongly advise you to wait until at least your fifth year. It is one of the most difficult magical disciplines one can undertake—and dangerous without guidance."
Neville scratched the back of his head, forcing a sheepish smile. "No, Professor. Just asking, that's all."
Inside, however, he thought, "Yeah right. I don't fancy running around the castle naked," considering how the animal forms of all Animagi are practically naked.
McGonagall nodded and moved on.
…
Friday, 3 September 1993 – Hogwarts Hospital Wing, Early Morning
Grey clouds hung low over the grounds, dulling the morning.
The storm wasn't violent—just persistent, as if it had decided to settle over the Scottish Highlands for the day.
Rain tapped softly against the tall windows of the Hospital Wing, a steady sound echoing faintly through the long, white-curtained room, muting what little morning light managed to filter through. Everything was cast in a dull, washed-out grey.
All the beds in the ward stood empty, save for one tucked beside a tall window in the far corner. Its curtains were drawn shut, Neville lay still, his breathing relaxed and steady, dressed in a hospital gown. On the bedpost next to his head sat Lumina, quietly preening. Her feathers glowed with a faint blue light in the dimness—soft and steady, rather than their usual blaze.
Then Neville's fingers twitched.
A faint crease formed between his brows as he shifted. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered.
For a moment, there was only fog. He let out a low groan, face tightening as awareness crept back in. His eyes cracked open, unfocused, staring up at the high ceiling above. The world swam slightly before settling into place.
He blinked a few times, vision still blurry, and groaned as he tried to sit up. His whole body felt sore and stiff, so he gave up and sank back onto the pillows.
At the sound, Lumina paused in her preening and turned to him, letting out a happy trill, wings spreading in delight.
She chirped again—higher this time—and hopped down onto the mattress, padding over to him. Even though Neville couldn't quite see her properly yet, he could feel her happiness through their bond.
Now able to focus, Neville squinted at Lumina. "Hey…" he muttered hoarsely.
Lumina wasted no time. She padded across the blanket and rubbed her face against his cheek, warmth seeping pleasantly into his skin. Her feathers tickled, drawing a tired huff from him.
'You're awfully cheerful today,' he thought, eyelids drooping for half a second.
His head felt heavy and completely drained.
"Urgh… What… happened?" he murmured, voice rough.
And then, as the quiet of the Hospital Wing settled around him, the memories of yesterday came rushing back.
…
Outside on the Hogwarts grounds, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a cluster of third years from all four houses huddled together at the edge of a paddock. The grass was wet beneath their shoes, the sky still heavy with grey clouds.
Hagrid had just wandered off into the trees, his voice echoing back over his shoulder. "Turn to page forty-nine!" he'd called, already disappearing between the branches.
Neville drifted away from the main group, stepping over to a larger boulder near the paddock's edge. Harry was a few paces off, arguing with Malfoy about something that Neville couldn't be bothered to listen to.
He slid the strap of his sling bag off his shoulder and let it drop to the ground, propping it against the rock.
Neville's mind was elsewhere—lost in thought, wondering just where Pettigrew could be hiding now.
'He could've gone back to Percy,' Neville mused, lips pressed in a thin line. 'We're back at the castle, and Percy was his first owner. If Pettigrew wanted safety, that would've been the logical move.'
He frowned a little. 'But if that was the case, he'd have done it last term—straight after Ron chased him off. And if Percy had found him, he'd have recognised Scabbers right away and given him back to Ron and would have told him that Scabbers was his pet.'
Neville exhaled quietly, shaking his head. 'So that didn't happen.'
His eyes wandered toward the treeline at the very edge of the grounds.
'Hagrid, maybe?' he wondered. 'No… I'm sure Hagrid finds him later somewhere…?'
He rubbed his chin absently. 'Where are you hiding, Peter?'
He was jolted from his thoughts by Hermione's voice, cutting across the soft chatter of the other students.
"Neville—did you hear me?" Hermione nagged, stepping closer with Harry at her side.
Neville blinked, pulling himself back to the present. "Huh?"
Hermione gave him a look. "I asked, what do you think Hagrid's going to show us? He looked so excited," she said, flipping open her Monster Book of Monsters.
Neville shrugged lightly. "Eh, probably a hippogriff."
Hermione, already turning to page forty-nine, paused and glanced up at him, surprised. "How did you know we'd be learning about hippogriffs?"
Neville smirked. "I foresaw it in Divination—had a brief moment where I managed to open my inner eye."
Harry let out a quiet chuckle, flipping open his own book. That got a scowl from Hermione, who promptly swatted Neville's shoulder.
"Prat," she muttered, though a smile was tugging at her lips.
Neville grinned, rubbing his shoulder. "It's Hagrid, Hermione. You just have to think of the most dangerous thing that lives anywhere near Hogwarts—so obviously, it's got to be the hippogriff."
Harry gave a wry grin. "Yeah, probably. Though I'd have thought he'd bring out Fluffy."
Hermione huffed, flipping another page. "Knowing Hagrid, that'll be our next class."
Just then, Hagrid strode back into view, looking twice as excited as usual.
"Right then!" he boomed, pacing in front of the group. "Told yeh I had a real treat fer yeh today! Care o' Magical Creatures don' get much better'n this!"
The chains behind him rattled, and the creatures they were attached to shifted restlessly.
Hippogriffs.
Not just one—there must have been a dozen of them, clustered together in the paddock.
Neville, taking in the sheer number, blinked in surprise. 'Didn't he only bring one out in the films?' he wondered as the class drifted closer, everyone craning their necks for a better look.
"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving an arm at the lot of them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"
Without missing a beat, he launched into his explanation, voice booming over the drizzle. "Now, firs' thing yeh gotta remember—hippogriffs are proud. Yeh show respect, an' they'll show it back. Insult 'em…" He mimed a chopping motion across his neck. "…an' yeh won' be insultin' much longer."
The class shuffled uneasily.
"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid went on. "It's polite, see? Walk toward him and bow. Wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, get away sharpish—those talons'll hurt."
He was already unhooking one of the chains, eyes gleaming. "Right! Who wants ter go first?"
At that, nearly the whole class edged backward, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the hippogriffs—except for Neville and Harry, who stood their ground.
Neville glanced sideways at Hermione, who'd also retreated with the rest, despite having petted the Hippogriffs in the vivarium before. He couldn't help but chuckle as he stepped forward into the paddock, Harry moving beside him.
Hagrid beamed, clapping his hands together. "Well done, boys. Right then—let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak and Benclaw." He untied two of the chains, pulling a striking grey and white hippogriff away from the rest, slipping the collar off its neck.
Neville eyed the animal carefully. 'So that's Buckbeak, then,'' he thought, watching the grey hippogriff shake itself the moment Hagrid freed it. 'He looks bigger than I remember from the movies'
He raised his hand. "Professor Hagrid, do we have to bow every time we approach one, or just the first time?" he asked, stepping a bit closer.
Hagrid grinned, shaking his head. "Nah, once yeh've got their respect, yeh don't need to keep bowin'. But don't go sneakin' up on 'em—if yeh do, you're in for a world o' pain." He gestured at the waiting hippogriffs. "Now then, why don't you both try gettin' 'em to bow?"
Neville nodded and strode over to the hippogriff Hagrid had called Benclaw. He paused, met its amber gaze, and bowed low, keeping his eyes on the creature.
Benclaw looked him over for a moment, then bowed back, wings half-spread in an elegant sweep.
Neville grinned in relief, straightening up. He stepped forward and gently patted Benclaw's neck, feeling the warmth beneath the feathers. With a quick glance around, Neville pulled a treat from his pocket—one he'd brought just in case—and offered it to Benclaw, who snatched it up with a satisfied clack of his beak.
"Hey, mind giving me a ride?" Neville asked.
Benclaw gave a huff that sounded suspiciously like agreement and crouched, inviting him to climb aboard.
Neville swung a leg over Benclaw's back just as Hagrid, with a bit of effort, helped Harry up onto Buckbeak. With a word and a gesture from Hagrid, both hippogriffs took off across the paddock, Benclaw leading the way. The flight wasn't as dramatic as in the films—no sweeping views over the Black Lake or looping the castle—but it was still exhilarating, just circling the field and feeling the rush of wind.
Benclaw landed first, talons digging into the soft earth. Neville dismounted, patting the hippogriff's neck. "Thanks, Benclaw," he said, pressing another treat into the creature's beak.
A moment later, Harry and Buckbeak landed beside them. Harry grinned, cheeks flushed, as he slid down from Buckbeak's back.
By now, emboldened by their success, the rest of the class were edging into the paddock. Hagrid went along the line, untying the hippogriffs one by one, until students were bowing nervously all around, laughter and relieved chatter breaking out as more of them were accepted.
Hermione, managed a neat bow to Benclaw and was soon petting him enthusiastically. She looked around, smiling, and said, "It's too bad Hagrid didn't bring the chicks out, they're adorable."
Neville shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Probably not the best idea. Hippogriff parents are incredibly protective—and they can get a bit… feisty. Wouldn't want to risk that with a whole class of students."
Hermione nodded, still stroking Benclaw's feathers. "Fair point."
Speaking of dangerous made Neville's thoughts snap sharply back to Malfoy. He grimaced.
'I really don't fancy listening to Malfoy whine for the rest of the year,' he thought, eyes already scanning the paddock. 'And Hagrid definitely doesn't need Lucius breathing down his neck.'
Malfoy was petting Buckbeak.
Neville's stomach dropped.
"Oh—shit," he breathed as he saw Malfoy muttering something under his breath, fingers brushing the hippogriff's feathers.
Neville didn't think. He just moved—cutting past a couple of students—
Buckbeak reared.
Wings snapped open, muscles bunching as talons lifted off the ground in a flash of steel and fury.
Neville grabbed Malfoy by the collar just as Buckbeak's claw came slashing down. He yanked him backward with everything he had.
Malfoy yelped as he was hauled off his feet.
The talons crashed into empty air.
But the force of it sent Neville stumbling. His boots slipped on the wet grass, balance gone, and he stumbled backward into something solid.
A hippogriff.
Neville barely had time to turn before the creature reacted. Its rear leg kicked back instinctively.
Too fast.
Neville tried to twist away, but he was too slow.
The blow hit with the full force of a horse's kick.
Talons—four inches long—ripped across the right side of his back.
"Fu—!" Neville screamed, the sound tearing out of him as the impact hurled him forward. He hit the ground hard, the breath ripped from his lungs in a silent, broken gasp.
Something tore inside his chest.
Pain exploded through his ribs—wet, tearing, absolute.
He tried to inhale.
Agony flooded his mind instead, white-hot and overwhelming. His vision blurred instantly, the world tilting and spinning as his body refused to respond. Air wouldn't come. His chest burned, pressure building fast and wrong.
"Neville!" Hermione's voice cut through faintly, panicked and distant.
Blood soaked through his robes almost immediately, warmth spreading beneath him as shock slammed in. The sounds around him warped and dulled—students screaming, Hagrid roaring Buckbeak's name—everything muffled, as though underwater.
Neville's fingers clawed weakly at the grass.
Blood pooled around him, dark and spreading, his entire side slick and slickening fast.
Then the air ignited.
A piercing cry tore through the paddock—clear, sharp, furious.
Heat crashed down in a sudden wave as blue fire erupted into existence.
"L-Lumina…" Neville rasped, the word barely a breath.
The phoenix appeared above him, wings spread wide as brilliant blue flames blossomed around her. She screamed again, driving the nearest hippogriffs back with raw fury.
Students shrieked and scattered, stumbling away as the paddock erupted into chaos.
Lumina dropped down beside Neville, landing protectively at his side. Her flames flared brighter as she hissed at anything that dared come too close, body tense and shaking.
Neville's vision was tunnelling now, the edges darkening as the world narrowed to pain and noise.
He tried to lift his hand.
It barely moved.
Lumina let out a frantic trill, sharp and broken. Through their bond, Neville could feel her panic—fear spiralling as she searched desperately for what to do.
Footsteps thundered closer. Harry and Hermione rushed into view and dropped to their knees beside him.
"Hagrid!" Hermione's voice rang out, thin with terror. "He has to be taken to the Hospital Wing—now!"
Hermione was crying. Neville could hear it, even as the sounds around him began to blur.
He couldn't breathe properly. Every attempt felt wrong, shallow, useless. Strength was bleeding out of him as fast as the warmth soaking his side.
With what little he had left, Neville forced the word out.
"…bag," he croaked weakly. "Tears… bag…"
There was a sharp intake of breath.
"I'll get it!" Harry said, already scrambling away.
Hermione leaned closer, her hands hovering uselessly, voice shaking. "Just—just hang in there, Neville. Please. Just hold on."
The light dimmed.
Her voice faded.
And then Neville's vision went completely dark
…
Neville thought, 'Right… that happened.'
A beat later, another thought followed, dry and bitter. 'I should've just let Malfoy get injured. Almost died trying to save that git.'
Just then, the curtain around the bed rustled and was pulled open.
Madam Pomfrey stepped into view, carrying a tray neatly arranged with potions, a thermometer, and a small enchanted device that hummed softly. She stopped the moment she saw Neville's eyes open.
"Good," she said briskly. "You're awake."
Neville blinked at her, still groggy. "Madam Pomfrey," he croaked, his voice hoarse as he let out a small groan and tried to push himself up.
She set the tray down firmly on the bedside table and fixed him with a sharp, no-nonsense look. "Yes, Mr Longbottom. And before you ask—no, you are not allowed out of bed just yet."
She leaned closer, peering at his face. "Follow my finger."
Neville did so without protest.
"Good. Again."
He followed it once more, slower this time, then blinked when she snapped her fingers lightly near his ear.
"Brain function appears intact. Coordination's fine," she said crisply. "Any dizziness?"
"Just… tired and sore," Neville answered honestly.
"Hm," she hummed, clearly unimpressed. "Do you remember what happened?"
Neville nodded slowly. "I got kicked by a hippogriff," he said. "After pulling Malfoy back. Then… not much."
"Reckless," she said flatly. "Utterly reckless."
She picked up the thermometer from the tray and popped it into Neville's mouth.
Neville went along with it without complaint, staring up at the ceiling.
Pomfrey then took his wrist, pressing two fingers against it as she checked his pulse, her eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment, she nodded, pulled the thermometer from his mouth, and gave another satisfied nod.
"No fever," she said, placing it back on the tray.
She drew her wand. "Hold still."
A series of quiet diagnostic spells followed, faint lights tracing briefly over his chest and side. She nodded again.
"You're healed," she said. "Fully. But don't get any foolish ideas—the tissues are still tender. Push yourself, and you will regret it."
She fixed him with a stern look. "Do you have any idea the extent of your injuries? You had a collapsed lung. Internal bleeding—blood pooling in your chest cavity. Air trapped where it very much should not have been. Severe pain, shock, and rapid oxygen deprivation."
Neville winced despite himself.
She met his eyes. "If Miss Granger and Mr Potter hadn't administered phoenix tears when they did, we wouldn't be having this conversation now. You'd be joining Myrtle and the other ghosts of Hogwarts."
Lumina let out a worried trill, feathers fluffing.
Neville lifted a finger and gently rubbed the top of her head, a faint, reassuring smile tugging at his lips.
Pomfrey shook her head, lips pursed. "First day back, and you end up here. Almost dead." She sighed sharply. "And here I thought you'd stopped being reckless after your first year."
She reached for a small vial and pressed it into his hand. "Here. Drink this. It'll help with the soreness."
Neville obeyed, tipping it back. The taste was foul—bitter and metallic—and he gagged slightly as he swallowed.
Almost immediately, warmth spread through his body. The deep ache dulled, the tightness in his chest easing as the exhaustion lifted.
Pomfrey tutted, taking the empty vial from him. "Don't make that face. It works, doesn't it?"
Neville nodded. "Yeah. A lot better."
"Good."
He hesitated, then asked, "Can I… leave?"
Pomfrey studied him for a moment before nodding. "You may. But you will not do anything strenuous. You will not attend lessons today. You will eat, drink, and rest. Understood?"
Neville exhaled quietly. "Understood."
Resigned, he leaned back against the pillows.
Pomfrey gave him a measured look. "Now—how far have you gotten with the book I gave you?"
"I finished it," Neville said. "But there are a few things I don't really understand. I was going to ask you yesterday, but… well."
She nodded. "Come by on Saturday. I'll answer your questions then."
Just then, Pomfrey glanced over her shoulder. "Ah. Your friends are here."
She gathered her tray, nodding once to Harry and Hermione. "I'll leave you to talk. I'll have the elves bring Mr Longbottom his clothes."
With that, she swept away, leaving the curtain open as Harry and Hermione stepped closer.
Neville lifted a hand in a lazy wave. "Hey, guys—"
Hermione didn't let him finish. She lunged forward and wrapped him in a fierce hug.
Neville winced, the tenderness in his side making itself known. Still, he managed a tired smile. "Happy to see you too, 'Mione."
He glanced over at Harry, who just stood there shaking his head, exasperated and relieved.
Hermione finally let go, only to bonk him lightly on the head. She whisper-shouted, "What were you thinking, Neville? Are you daft? You almost got yourself killed!"
She wiped at her eyes, voice wobbling. "I… I thought you were going to die."
Neville glanced at Harry. "That bad, huh?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah… your side was ripped open, mate. There was blood everywhere—pooling on the ground. I genuinely thought you were dead."
He swallowed, jaw tightening slightly. "You would've been, too, if Hermione hadn't given you the phoenix tears. Even Lumina was panicking."
Harry glanced toward the window, then back at Neville. "She didn't even think to use her own."
Lumina let out a soft, apologetic trill, feathers drooping.
Neville reached over and gently rubbed her head again. "It's alright, girl" he murmured quietly.
After a moment, he asked, "So… what happened after I blacked out?"
Hermione took a shaky breath, steadying herself. "After we poured the tears into your mouth, the wound healed up pretty fast. Hagrid carried you straight here—he was absolutely beside himself. Properly panicking."
Neville gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, I suppose I did ruin his first class. It was actually going well, wasn't it? We should go and see him later if we can."
Hermione sniffed and shook her head. "You didn't ruin his class, Neville. It was Malfoy—if he hadn't provoked the hippogriff, none of this would've happened."
Harry gave a wry look. "I still can't believe you saved Malfoy, of all people."
Neville gave a tired shrug. "Well, at least now we don't have to hear him whinge all year. If he'd actually been hurt, he probably would've got Hagrid sacked or something."
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I can definitely see him doing that."
Harry scratched the back of his head. "Er… there's something else."
Neville looked up, wary. "What?"
"Well," Harry said, glancing at Lumina, "the whole school knows about Lumina now."
Neville froze. "…Ah."
Then it clicked, Lumina had come the moment he'd been hurt, drawn through their bond. He let out a quiet groan. "Of course they do."
Lumina gave a delighted, triumphant trill that echoed around the ward—utterly unbothered.
Neville narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't look so pleased with yourself."
Lumina just fluffed her feathers even more, the blue glow brightening as if she was thoroughly enjoying the situation.
Neville stared up at the ceiling, his mind turning. "Right," he muttered. "So… everyone knows now. Brilliant."
Harry grinned, shaking his head. "People won't stop talking about it. Half of them reckon she's yours, the other half think she's wild."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Lavender and Parvati kept pestering me after class, wanting to know if Lumina was really yours."
Neville let out a slow breath, then, because he couldn't help himself, muttered, "Well, we could always Obliviate everyone."
Harry gave him a look. "How are you going to Obliviate the whole school? Is that even possible?"
Hermione crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Unless you're planning to do it one by one, it's impossible—and you'd be expelled if you even tried."
Neville shrugged, still going with it. "Well, technically we could. Not one by one—I mean, if we wanted to Obliviate a large group, we'd need swooping evil venom, and everyone would have to be gathered in one place for it to work."
Harry frowned. "A swooping what?"
Neville glanced at him. "Swooping Evil. It's this little magical creature, honestly quite cute. Their venom can cause amnesia—if you could get it into the drinks in the Great Hall, or maybe make it rain down somehow, it'd work on a big crowd."
Hermione's head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Neville."
He held up his hands defensively. "Joking. I'm not actually going to do it. Plus, I've no idea where to even find a swooping evil."
Hermione still didn't look entirely convinced.
Neville couldn't help thinking, though, about how Newt Scamander had managed to Obliviate all of New York City with swooping evil venom. He wondered if he could ever pull that off in the Great Hall—if the vivariums even had one of those creatures. He hadn't finished exploring them yet and wasn't even sure if the venom could wipe out just a day's memories. After all, Jacob had ended up remembering everything, didn't he?
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