Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 82
Neville led them through the castle's winding corridors until they reached the astronomy tower and climbed up to the seventh floor. He stopped in front of a blank stretch of wall opposite a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls ballet.
Hermione frowned. "What are we doing here?"
Neville smirked. "Just watch."
"The rooms here," Harry muttered, looking around.
Neville began pacing back and forth in front of the wall, focusing hard. I need a room where we can all sit and talk in private. A comfortable room with space for everyone.
On his third pass, a polished wooden door appeared where the blank wall had been.
Hermione gasped. "That's… that's incredible magic."
"Told you," Neville said smugly. He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, revealing a warm, well-lit room filled with squashy armchairs, a low table in the middle, and a cosy fireplace crackling at one end.
"Welcome to the Room of Requirement," Neville said, stepping aside to let them in.
…
Tuesday, 17th February 1993 – Hogwarts Central Hall
Neville pushed the door open, stepping aside so the others could follow him in.
Hermione was first through, her eyes darting everywhere at once. She took a few steps forward, mouth parting slightly as she turned in a slow circle. "This is… remarkable. The scope of the enchantments alone—how could they even design something like this, let alone maintain it?"
"I think the room is probably as old as the castle itself," Luna said dreamily, gliding past her. She stopped in the middle of the chamber, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. "It's nice. Smells like cinnamon."
Harry entered last, his green eyes sweeping over the space with obvious interest. "So it just… shifts to whatever you need?"
"Pretty much," Neville said, letting the door close behind him. "The Room changes depending on what you're thinking when you walk past. If you need somewhere to hide, it'll give you cupboards. If you want to practice spells, it'll give you space for that. And if you're desperate for the loo…" He smirked. "It'll become a toilet."
Harry stopped and gave him a flat look.
"What?" Neville asked, grinning. "It's true."
Hermione was already moving towards one of the shelves near the wall, trailing her fingertips across the wood as though to test if it was solid. Her eyes lit up. "Do you know how many possibilities this creates? It could be used for research projects—quiet space for studying—or even brewing potions without having to beg Professor Snape for permission."
Neville flopped into one of the overstuffed armchairs with a satisfied groan. "Yeah, that's all great, Hermione, but please don't turn it into a study dungeon."
She stopped, turning to raise an eyebrow at him. "And why not?"
Neville put on his most serious expression. "Because then I'd never get in here again."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I can see that happening."
Luna had already settled cross-legged on a patterned rug near the fire. She gazed into the flames as if she could see something no one else could, her face serene.
Neville leaned forward, tugging the Honeydukes bag onto his lap. "Anyway, I picked up some things for us." He pulled out a brightly wrapped package and set it carefully on the low table in front of them. "And here are the lemon-fizz marshmallow bombs you asked for."
Next, He pulled out a little cup of pudding and handed it across to Luna. "Here you go, Luna."
Her face brightened, and she accepted it as though it were a precious gift. "Thank you."
Neville pulled out a small box from the Honeydukes bag and flipped the lid open. Inside, three chocolate mice twitched their little noses enchantingly, their tails curling like licorice whips.
"Here you go, Harry," Neville said with a grin, setting one down in front of him. " Choco-Squeak Mouse."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the silly name but accepted it with a faint smile. "Thanks, mate."
Neville rummaged again, then called across the room, "And for you, Hermione—" he set down another mouse, this one with delicate sugar-spun whiskers and tiny almond eyes. "A Scholar's Sweetmouse, supposedly it's chocolate butterscotch flavor."
Neville pulled the last one out for himself and plopped into another chair.
Hermione glanced up from the book she'd been holding, eyebrow arched, but she walked over and set herself primly in the armchair opposite Neville. She accepted the little chocolate creation with a soft shake of her head. "Oh, thanks, Neville. "
Hermione looked down at the Scholar's Sweetmouse and frowned. "But, how exactly are we supposed to eat these? We don't have spoons."
As if on cue, a neat set of silver spoons shimmered into existence on the coffee table between them.
Harry let out a low whistle. "Well, that's convenient."
Neville didn't even hesitate. He gave a quick flick of his wand and muttered, "Scourgify," running the charm across each spoon in turn. Satisfied, he plucked one up for himself and leaned back in his chair.
They dug in, the chocolate mousse inside the enchanted sweets creamy and rich, sweet enough to make Hermione's eyes flutter briefly in appreciation.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Neville leaned forward, lowering his spoon. "Anyway, the Room can do all sorts. I think it can even bring books from the Restricted Section if you ask it right."
Hermione's head whipped around so quickly that Neville thought she might've given herself whiplash. Her spoon froze halfway to her mouth. "The Restricted Section? Are you serious?"
Neville shrugged casually. "Probably. I don't know—I haven't tried it. But it's connected to the castle. So… probably. Why don't you give it a shot?"
Hermione wasted no time. She set her mousse aside, clasped her hands, and said in a clear voice, "Can you please give me a book from the Restricted Section?"
They all waited.
Nothing happened.
Hermione's brow furrowed, and she tapped her foot impatiently. "Nothing. Not a thing."
"Maybe the room can't do that," Harry asked.
From the rug, Luna tilted her head dreamily. "Or maybe it can, but it's shy. Books can be shy, you know. Some only come out when the moon is in the right place."
Harry and Hermione both gave her a look. Neville just chuckled. "Maybe we have to be specific."
Hermione huffed but tried again, this time saying a precise title: "Can you please give me the Moste Potente Potions from the Restricted Section?"
Nothing appeared. Hermione's frown deepened.
Neville rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe it only works for the person who first conjured the room. Let me try."
He glanced at the coffee table and thought, 'I need the book Moste Potente Potions from the Restricted Section.'
With a soft whoosh of displaced air, a heavy, leather-bound book materialised on the table.
Hermione gasped so loudly that Madam Pince probably would've come storming in if she'd been nearby. She snatched the book up reverently. "This is it. This is actually it. Oh, my goodness—do you know what this means?"
Harry smirked at her over his spoon. "Yeah. It means you're not going to leave this room for the rest of the year."
Hermione shot him a sharp look, hugging the book to her chest. "No, you idiot. Don't you see what this means? We can access any book from the Restricted Section without needing permission from a professor!"
Neville nodded eagerly, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly. That makes this room perfect for us to train in. We won't be restricted by lack of materials anymore."
Before anyone could say more, a life-sized training dummy appeared in the middle of the rug. It was wooden, jointed like a puppet, with painted eyes that blinked slowly as if aware of them.
Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Well, that's… convenient. Good to know, though. If I'm going to face him in the future, I'll need all the practice I can get."
Hermione turned to him sharply. "Harry—don't even think about duelling You-Know-Who again."
Harry gave her a look, lips twitching. "Kind of don't get much of a choice, do I?"
Neville raised his hands quickly. "Oi, let's not argue. The point is, the room is on our side."
Harry tilted his head thoughtfully, then asked, "Alright… but can it create food?"
Hermione immediately shook her head, ever the voice of reason. "No, Harry. You can't conjure food from nothing. It's one of Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration. Basic magical theory."
Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "Figured you'd know the answer."
Neville shrugged. "If you really want food, just call a house-elf. I'm sure they'd fetch you something. They seem to like me well enough."
Hermione pursed her lips, muttering, "Yes, but that raises a whole separate ethical discussion about—"
"Not now, Hermione," Harry interrupted gently, but with a trace of amusement.
Hermione huffed but didn't press further. Instead, she turned her focus back on Neville. "So this is where you found Lumina and… the sword, right?"
Hermione turned back toward Neville, brows still furrowed. "So… this is where you found Lumina and the dagger?"
Neville nodded, gesturing toward Harry, who had his Nab-Sack resting by his feet. "Yeah. Both of them and the Nab-Sack. Well, not Lumina herself; she was an egg and hatched when I touched her egg."
Luna, who'd been happily scraping the last of her pudding, pulled the spoon from her mouth with a faint pop. "Dagger?" she asked, tilting her head, her tone equal parts dreamy and intrigued.
Harry leaned back and folded his arms. "Neville has a dagger. It's enchanted to shift into a sword when he uses it; he used it to kill the basilisk."
Luna's eyes went wider, her voice lilting. "Can I see it?"
Neville spread his hands helplessly. "Can't. Don't have it with me right now. Professor McGonagall confiscated it. Apparently me walking around with a dagger isn't safe." He frowned, his tone turning wry. "Never mind the fact I've been carrying it for months without anyone noticing."
Hermione gave him a look so flat it could have been used as a pancake iron. "Honestly, Neville."
"Oi, don't give me that face," Neville said defensively, though he was grinning.
Neville grinned. "And speaking of Lumina…" He raised his voice. "Lumina!"
With a rush of heat and light, blue fire exploded into the air above the table. A brilliant phoenix burst forth, wings beating as she let out a piercing thrill before landing neatly on the coffee table. Lumina trilled.
Neville quickly dug into his sling bag. "Here you go, girl. Got this for you." He pulled out a pouch, fishing out one of the small treats he'd bought in Hogsmeade. "The shopkeeper swore birds love these." He held it out to her.
Lumina snapped it up delicately and gave a delighted trill, her feathers fluffing as she preened. Neville felt her happiness radiate down their bond—warm, golden, like sitting by a hearth on a winter evening. He smiled. "She likes it."
Harry leaned forward, eyes narrowing a little as he studied Lumina. "Wait… why does she look different? I swear she didn't look quite like this before."
Neville nodded, stroking Lumina's neck feathers. "Oh, that. Like I said—Gran transfigured her a bit. She made her look more like a Jobberknoll. This way, unless Lumina trills in front of people or uses her phoenix magic, no one will really know what she is."
Harry cut in before she could begin a lecture. "Hold on, Neville. You said the Room gives you what you ask for. Did you… Ask for the dagger? Or Lumina?"
Neville shook his head slowly. "No. That's the strange part. When I first woke up in here, there was her egg sitting on the table—and the dagger was beside it," he lied.
He leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That's why I think the Room isn't just a room. It's… sentient, in a way."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Sentient? You mean—aware?"
Neville shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it. It felt like… like the castle itself gave her to me. As if it knew we'd need her—to protect Hogwarts."
Harry's face had turned thoughtful.
Luna, on the other hand, just nodded as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Hermione, eyes shining with awe, murmured, "Sentient magic… I don't think I've ever read anything about it before."
Luna, still sitting cross-legged on the rug, nodded gravely. "That's probably because they banned it. Daddy says the Department of Mysteries covered it up after a wizard tried to marry a sentient hat. Terrible scandal. No one likes to talk about it."
Everyone stared at her.
Harry blinked. "…A hat?"
"Yes," Luna said serenely, spoon still in hand. "Apparently it turned him down, but only because it was already in love with a scarf."
Hermione buried her face in her hands with a groan. "Honestly."
Neville chuckled, shaking his head, then glanced at Hermione.
"Do you think the Room could show us books on how to create something like this?" she asked quickly, seizing the chance to steer things back on track. "If there are any records at all, they might be here."
Neville shrugged. "Could be. But I think it's probably lost to time. My guess? Rowena Ravenclaw herself created this place. Maybe it was her personal study."
That thought made Hermione's eyes widen with near-reverence, though she said nothing.
Neville pushed himself up from the armchair. "Well, come on then. There's something else I want to see."
Hermione blinked. "Huh? This isn't it?"
Neville shook his head, Lumina hopping up onto his shoulder in a flutter of blue feathers. "No. There's more."
Harry tilted his head. "Where are we going?"
Neville smirked, already pacing toward the blank wall. "I'm going to ask for a different room."
Hermione rose from her chair with a suspicious look. "And are you going to tell us what you actually want to show us, or are we just meant to follow you blindly?"
Before Neville could answer, Lumina trilled brightly, as if chiming in.
Luna tilted her head. "She says it's a surprise. And also that the treacle tart here is inferior to the one in the kitchens."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "She said all that?"
"Of course," Luna replied serenely.
Neville sighed, amused. "To be honest, I don't actually know myself. But if what the house-elf told me was true… then I think you and Luna will probably like it a lot."
…
One by one, they filed out of the Room of Requirement, their footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor. Neville lingered last, waiting until Harry, Hermione, and Luna were clear before pulling the door shut behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, the wood shimmered like heat waves. Within seconds, the door dissolved into blank stone. It was as though it had never existed.
Harry blinked. "That's still weird. Doesn't it bother anyone else?"
"Bother?" Luna tilted her head, her blonde hair swinging lightly. "Not really. It's like watching nargles vanish after Christmas. Perfectly natural."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Neville ignored them for the moment, pacing slowly back and forth in front of the blank wall. He focused hard, speaking in his mind as clearly as he could. 'I want to see the room where a Hogwarts student saved all those magical creatures and kept them safe.'
On the third pass, the stones shivered and folded in on themselves like water. A tall, arched door appeared in their place, wrought from dark wood.
Hermione let out a small gasp. "It's different this time."
Neville shrugged, though there was a faint spark of excitement in his chest. "Maybe each version of the Room has its own doorway."
He stepped closer and, with one cautious tug, pulled the door open. Beyond was a dimly lit hallway stretching ahead, slanting gently downward.
Neville hesitated only a moment before stepping through. He glanced back, jerking his head for the others to follow.
Harry came up beside him, his hand unconsciously brushing the holster where his wand sat. "Well… lead the way, mate."
They descended the short staircase, footsteps hollow against the stone. As they reached the bottom, the space opened up.
Neville stopped dead.
The room before them was vast, stretching high into a vaulted ceiling of glass panes where sunlight streamed through in warm, golden shafts. The light poured over shelves of books that circled the room, their spines flashing gold and silver lettering, while loose pages drifted lazily in the air as though caught in a perpetual breeze.
A colossal statue of a hippogriff dominated the centre, wings spread wide, beak open mid-cry. The craftsmanship was so fine that it looked alive; the glass skylight above poured sunlight onto its marble wings, bathing them in brilliance.
To their right stood a large oak desk, littered with scattered parchments, quills, and inkpots, as if its owner had only just left. Framed photographs hung on the wall behind it—moving images of people.
Twin staircases curled up along the left and right sides of the hall, meeting in a balcony on the second floor. From up there, Neville could see doors leading into what looked like adjoining chambers—one clearly a library, lined with still more shelves and books.
The banners caught his eye next: Ravenclaw blue, embroidered with silver, draped elegantly from the ceiling beams.
Harry stepped in beside him, his voice hushed with awe. "What is this place?"
"I don't know," Neville admitted honestly. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the enormous study-like chamber. Truth was, all he knew was the main character had used the Room of Requirement to keep rescued magical creatures safe… at least, that's what he remembered.
He frowned slightly. 'I never actually played the game, just picked up pieces from videos and posts. So I don't know exactly how it worked. But if this really is the same place… then this must be it. The Vivarium is.'
Hermione crept forward, craning her neck to look up at the skylight. "It's… It's incredible. Like some kind of private study. Do you think this belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw herself?"
"It might," Neville said, though he knew it didn't.
Luna's gaze drifted around the chamber, her lips moving slightly as though counting. "Oh, I know. This must be the place Daddy told me about — the Chamber of Mismatched Time. He said wizards built it to keep all the clocks that ticked backwards, so no one would ever accidentally turn into their own grandfather."
Harry froze, staring at her. Hermione's mouth opened as if to argue, then closed again, completely derailed.
"…what?" Harry finally managed.
Luna gave a little shrug, as if it were obvious. "It makes sense. Backward clocks can be terribly disruptive. Imagine trying to eat dinner when it's already breakfast."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "That's not even—"
Harry glanced sideways at Neville, who only shrugged helplessly, lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.
And then—
Pop!
They all jumped as a house-elf appeared right in front of the hippogriff statue. Its enormous eyes blinked at them, ears twitching.
"Master Longbottom, sir!" squeaked the elf, bowing so low its nose nearly brushed the floor. "Jibber is so very happy to see you again!"
Neville blinked, recognizing him instantly. "Jibber?"
If you wish to support this story, please join me at patreon.com/Tilct
please contribute some power stone