Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 104
Hermione slowed near a blank stretch of wall and began pacing back and forth.
"I need a place Neville would go to think," she muttered. "Somewhere private."
The door appeared silently in the wall.
They exchanged a look and stepped inside.
The Room of Requirement had arranged itself into a cluttered study. Tables were piled with old newspapers and loose parchment, and a choke board stood nearby, notes pinned across it, lines drawn between names and dates, fragments of information being carefully connected.
Neville stood by one of the tables, sleeves rolled up, flipping through an old newspaper with a thoughtful frown.
Hermione let out a breath of relief—then immediately scowled.
"Neville Longbottom," she snapped, planting her hands on her hips. "Do you have any idea how worried we were?"
Neville looked up, startled, then relaxed when he recognised them. "Hey. You two came just in time."
Harry blinked, stepping closer. "For what?"
Neville lifted a hand and pointed toward a side table. A metal cage sat on top of it. Inside, a rat lay unmoving.
"I think," Neville said calmly, "I found an unregistered Animagus."
Hermione blinked at him.
"…You what?"
…
Monday, 1st November 1993 – Room of Requirement
Harry looked confused as he stepped closer to the desk, peering at the covered cage. "An unregistered ani—what?"
He tilted his head, squinting at Neville.
Hermione let out a small, impatient breath. "Honestly, Harry. We learned about this a few weeks ago in Transfiguration. Animagus. Plural, Animagi," she corrected crisply, folding her arms. "They're witches or wizards who can transform into animals. Like Professor McGonagall. She turns into a cat."
Harry blinked. "Right."
"It's one of the most advanced forms of transfiguration," Hermione continued, slipping easily into lecture mode. "There are only a few known, and they're all registered with the Ministry."
Harry looked back at Neville, one eyebrow raised. "So… you found one here in Hogwarts?"
Neville nodded. "Yep." He gestured towards the table. A metal cage sat there, carefully covered by a damp cloth.
He reached forward and lifted the wet cloth, revealing a rat lying motionless inside the cage.
Harry and Hermione both leaned in instinctively.
Harry's eyes widened in recognition. "Wait— isn't that—"
Neville nodded once. "Yep. That's Scabbers."
"Caught him wandering near the kitchens," Neville added calmly. "Must've gone down for a snack."
Hermione's head snapped up. "Ron's rat?" She stared at the small, limp body. "You're saying Ron's pet is an Animagus?"
Neville gave a faint shrug. "Looks that way."
Harry stared at the rat through the bars. "But he's been around forever…"
"That's exactly the point," Neville replied evenly. "Ordinary garden rats don't live that long. Ron mentioned once he was about twelve years old. Maybe older. Percy had him before Ron."
Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah. Percy gave him to Ron when he got his owl."
Hermione made a face. "You're saying Ron's been keeping a grown man as his pet for years?"
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence.
Harry's expression turned serious. "Do you think Ron—or the Weasleys—knew?"
Neville shook his head immediately. "No. If he knew, he wouldn't have slept with him in his bed."
Hermione looked positively revolted.
"And I don't think the Weasleys knew either," Neville added. "I doubt they'd be happy keeping a man in their children's bedroom."
Harry grimaced. "That's… yeah."
He glanced back at the cage. "What's with the wet cloth?"
"It's soaked in a sleeping draught," Neville said calmly. "Keeps him unconscious. Safer that way."
Hermione straightened, her worry cutting through the shock. "Why haven't you reported this to a professor? An unregistered Animagus is illegal, Neville. And if he's been posing as a rat for years just to stay close to the Weasleys, then he must've been up to something." She looked back at the rat, unsettled. "He could be dangerous."
Neville nodded once, then calmly draped the damp cloth back over the cage, concealing the rat from view.
"Because he isn't just some random Animagus," he said evenly. "This is Peter Pettigrew."
Harry frowned. "You said that already. Why does that name matter?"
Hermione's brow furrowed as she searched her memory. "Isn't he—wasn't he one of the people who received the Order of Merlin?"
Neville nodded. "Mm. First Class."
He looked at Harry. "And the reason it matters is because I saw the name on the Map," he said steadily. "Just before midnight."
Harry's confusion deepened. "What does that have to do with me?"
Neville didn't answer straight away. Instead, he reached for an old copy of the Daily Prophet from the cluttered table. The paper was worn, folded carefully as though it had been handled more than once.
"Anything that happens on Halloween has a habit of linking back to you," Neville said calmly. "So I've been doing my research all night."
Harry went still.
Neville unfolded the paper and laid it flat on the desk between them. The front page held a moving photograph—Sirius Black, wild-eyed, laughing hysterically at the camera.
Harry stiffened the moment he saw it. "Wait… I've seen him before."
Hermione looked sharply at him. "Where?"
Harry stared at the picture, watching Sirius's manic expression loop again and again. "In one of the photographs Madam Bagshot gave me. From my first birthday." He swallowed. "He was in it."
Neville nodded slightly. "Well, that's Sirius Black." He tapped the headline. "Go on. Hermione, would you read it?"
The bold letters stretched across the page:
DARK LORD'S TOP SUPPORTER CAPTURED AFTER DEADLY BLAST
Hermione leaned in closer and began to read aloud,
"By Special Correspondent, The Daily Prophet
The Ministry of Magic has confirmed the arrest of Sirius Black, a suspected follower of You-Know-Who, in connection with the recent murders of James and Lily Potter.
Black was taken into custody yesterday after a violent magical explosion in a crowded Muggle street left twelve non-magical people dead and caused extensive destruction. Ministry officials arrived within minutes of the incident and found Black at the scene.
Witnesses report that the wizard Peter Pettigrew confronted Black shortly before the blast, accusing him of treachery and responsibility for the Potters' deaths. Moments later, a powerful curse destroyed the street. Only a single finger belonging to Pettigrew was recovered, and he is believed to have been killed instantly.
Aurors state that Black offered no resistance and appeared "unbalanced" when arrested. He has been transferred to a high-security holding facility and is expected to be sent to Azkaban.
Ministry representatives describe Black as a dangerous and highly placed supporter of You-Know-Who, and believe his capture marks a major step in restoring peace following the Dark Lord's sudden and mysterious disappearance.
The wizarding community continues to celebrate the end of the Dark Lord's reign, though officials warn that some of his followers remain at large.
Anyone with information concerning suspected supporters of You-Know-Who is urged to contact the Ministry immediately.
"
Harry's jaw tightened as he scanned the article. "It says he betrayed them."
"it seem so, but let's not jump to conclusions," Neville replied calmly. walking over to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk. The board was already covered in dates and headlines, lines half-drawn between them.
He pointed to the first date written clearly at the top.
"October 31st, 1981 — the Potters are murdered."
He drew a line.
"November 1st — Daily Prophet headline: Dark Lord vanishes."
Another line.
"Then — Sirius Black captured and arrested for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles."
He tapped the final date beneath it.
"November 2nd — this headline."
He stepped back slightly. "All of that happened in forty-eight to seventy-two hours."
Neville turned back to Harry and Hermione. "So my question is this — why would Sirius go after Peter right after your parents were murdered?"
Hermione hesitated. "Sirius Black could've been trying to silence Peter," she said weakly.
Neville nodded once. "That's the official version," he said evenly. "And honestly, it could be."
He gestured towards the covered cage.
"But it falls apart when we have Peter here. As a rat. In hiding."
He let that settle.
"Then ask yourself," Neville continued, "why is he hiding for all this time? The article says the street was blasted apart. Twelve Muggles dead. They found what was left of Peter."
He tapped the newspaper. "One finger. Cut clean off."
Then he walked back to the cage and pulled the cloth back just enough.
"Look at his right front leg."
Harry leaned closer.
There was a missing toe.
Hermione's face went pale.
Harry stared at the rat, then back at the article, then at the rat again.
Neville covered the cage once more and stepped away, then picking up the worn leather-bound journal of the table.
"This was my mum's," he said quietly. "Her diary from her fifth year at Hogwarts."
He paused a fraction of a second before continuing. "I remembered she mentioned Sirius and James a few times in it. So I checked."
He hadn't read it before. He hadn't wanted to. It felt wrong, invading something so personal. But when he realized the timeline had shifted — that things weren't playing out exactly the way he remembered — he'd needed something solid. A logical connection. Something that didn't rely on half-remembered films from another life.
His mum had been in Gryffindor. Same year as Harry's parents.
If there was anything written down — anything at all — it would be here.
And luckily for him, she had mentioned them.
Neville flipped to a bookmarked page and turned the diary so they could read.
"Read this."
Hermione leaned in and read aloud.
"Lily was in a terrible mood today. Apparently James and Sirius set off some ridiculous charm in the corridor that turned half the staircases the wrong way. McGonagall looked ready to murder them. I do not understand how they still find this funny. Sirius especially. He laughed the entire time, even while getting detention."
Neville then turned the page and pointed to a passage.
"They are impossible, but I do not think I have ever seen a friendship like theirs. James and Sirius argue constantly, but if anyone else says a word against one of them, the other is ready to start a duel."
Neville flipped the page again.
"The four of them caused trouble again today. James and Sirius were arguing over some ridiculous bet, while Peter stood there looking like he might faint from the attention. Remus just sighed and tried to stop them before they got caught. I do not know how he puts up with them."
Neville flipped again.
"Remus looked exhausted in class. Sirius kept trying to distract him, but James eventually told him to leave Remus alone. For all their nonsense, they do take care of each other."
Another page.
"Peter follows them everywhere. I do not think he would know what to do without them. Lily says he is sweet but far too dependent on James and Sirius."
One more.
"Sometimes I wonder how Remus survives them. Peter laughs at everything James and Sirius do, even when it is not funny."
The room felt very quiet.
Hermione spoke first, her voice subdued. "They were all in the same year?"
Neville nodded. "Yeah. From what my mum wrote, it seems all of them were in the same year. Same house. Same friend group. Except my dad — he was a year above."
He glanced down at the diary for a moment before looking back up. "She mentioned them a few times over her fifth year. And every time she did… it's the same pattern. James and Sirius at the center. Remus trying to steady things. Peter tagging along."
Harry was staring at the diary again, eyes fixed on the last line.
"They were inseparable," he muttered.
Neville nodded once. "It seems so."
He walked back to the board and, with steady strokes, drew connecting lines:
James — Sirius — Remus — Peter
Underneath, he wrote: Same year. Same house. Same friend group.
He tapped the board lightly. "That begs the question… why would Sirius betray your parents… if he was that close to James? And why would he go after Peter the very next day?"
Hermione swallowed. "To silence him," she said weakly.
Neville looked at her. "Then why is Peter hiding as a rat for twelve years?"
No one answered.
Harry spoke first, voice low. "If Sirius was guilty… Peter wouldn't need to hide."
Neville didn't smile. He just nodded once. "Exactly. Meaning… Peter is the one who betrayed your parents. Sirius found out after their deaths. That's why he went after him."
Harry's jaw tightened, muscles jumping.
Neville continued carefully. "Remember I said your parents must've been under the Fidelius Charm. Just like mine were. And remember what that means. The Secret Keeper is the only one who can reveal the location. And only if they do so willingly."
Hermione gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth.
Harry's breathing turned uneven. "He was their Secret Keeper," he said, staring at the cage.
Neville nodded slowly. "It would explain everything." He stepped closer to the board. "If Sirius was as close to your parents as this suggests… he would've known who the Secret Keeper was. That's why he would've gone after Peter."
Neville's voice remained steady. "And Peter cuts off his finger. Blows up the street. Kills twelve Muggles. Frames Sirius. Removes the one person most likely to hunt him down."
Harry's hands were shaking now.
His eyes were fixed on the covered cage.
In one sharp movement, he pulled out his wand and stepped toward it.
Neville moved at once, stepping directly in front of him.
"Hold on, Harry."
"Let me go!" Harry shouted, trying to sidestep him. "He's the reason they're dead!"
Hermione rushed forward, grabbing Harry's arm. "Harry, calm down!"
Harry shoved her off without looking, eyes never leaving the cage.
Then he shoved Neville.
"Get out of my way," Harry snarled. "I'll kill him."
Neville held his ground.
"Harry, calm down."
Harry shoved him harder this time. "He's been living right beside me! He was there all along!"
His voice cracked.
"He killed them!" Harry shouted.
"We don't know that yet," Neville said firmly.
"You just said—" Harry cut himself off, glaring at him.
"I said it's a theory," Neville replied evenly. "Not proof."
"I don't care!" Harry shot back. "He caused my parents to die! I'll kill him—"
He tried to push past again, but Neville didn't budge.
"And if you're wrong?" Neville asked sharply. "If this isn't exactly what happened?"
Harry glared at him, breathing hard.
"Harry," Neville said again, quieter now but no less firm. "We need proof."
Harry's chest rose and fell rapidly. For a moment, it looked like he might swing at Neville.
He didn't.
He stepped back instead, fists clenched at his sides, breathing harshly.
Hermione hovered nearby, pale but steady now.
"How?" Harry demanded. he dragged a hand through his hair, still glaring at the cage. "Then how do we get proof?"
Neville turned and picked up the open Potions book from the table, sliding it across toward them.
"With this."
Hermione leaned in, eyes scanning the page.
"Veritaserum." Her head snapped up. "But Neville, that's highly regulated. We can't just buy it."
"I know," Neville said calmly. "That's why we brew it ourselves. I've already checked Alric's Room. We've got all the ingredients listed."
He met her gaze. "Think you can manage it?"
Hermione bit her lip and flipped through the pages quickly, scanning the instructions, the precise measurements, the brewing times, the temperature notes scribbled in the margins. She was quiet for a moment, clearly calculating.
"I think I can," she said finally. "But it takes a month to brew properly. If we rush it, it won't work."
"I know." Neville nodded once.
Hermione hesitated, then looked between Neville and Harry.
"Don't you two think we should hand him over to the Aurors or something?"
She glanced at the cage, then back at Neville. "He's dangerous. He killed twelve people. Maybe more. What if something goes wrong? What if he wakes up? What if the potion fails?"
Neville reached out and lightly patted her on the head.
"Calm down, Hermione."
She immediately swatted his hand away, shooting him a glare — but she didn't argue further.
Neville gestured toward the chalkboard. "We can't hand him over just yet. We still don't know the full truth."
He tapped the dates again.
He tapped the dates once more.
"We know Harry's parents went into hiding after Dumbledore warned them. And we know our parents were part of Dumbledore's vigilante group — the Order of the Phoenix."
He looked between them, voice steady.
"That means Dumbledore must've known them well. Personally."
He gestured toward the open diary on the table.
"And if what my mum wrote is true, then half the castle would've known how close they were. James and Sirius weren't just friends — they were practically attached at the hip."
Harry, calmer now but still tense, frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Neville replied evenly. " Dumbledore must have knew them personally… if he knew they were that inseparable…" Neville's gaze sharpened slightly. "Why didn't he push for Sirius to get a trial?"
The room felt heavier at that.
"Why didn't he speak in Sirius's defence?" Neville asked quietly.
He picked up the newspaper again and tapped the section he had marked earlier.
"He was arrested, declared guilty, and sent to Azkaban. There's no mention of a trial. No hearing. It could've been because of the chaos at the time. The war had just ended. But still…" He looked at them steadily. "No formal process. He was just thrown into Azkaban."
He let that settle.
"And Dumbledore didn't publicly stand up for him either."
Harry's expression darkened. "You think Dumbledore… did it on purpose?"
Neville shrugged faintly. "I don't know. That's what we need to find out."
He looked between them both. "And that's exactly why we can't hand Peter over to the Aurors yet. Not until we know what's really going on."
He looked at Harry properly now. "But this isn't just about your parents, Harry. It's also about a man who might've been framed and thrown into Azkaban for twelve years."
Harry's jaw tightened. The anger was still there, simmering, but he gave a short nod.
Neville glanced back at the covered cage. "Don't worry about him. Leave him to me. We'll keep him inside my extended pouch. I'll ward it properly. I'll also keep him unconscious — in his rat form."
Harry looked at him sharply. "You're going to be carrying him around with you?"
"It's safer that way," Neville said simply.
He didn't elaborate, but the thought was clear enough in his eyes. He wasn't risking Harry or Hermione being anywhere near Peter. Peter was a coward, yes — but cornered cowards were dangerous.
As if on cue, the bell rang faintly in the distance, signalling the end of lunch.
Neville clicked his tongue softly. "We can't keep skipping classes. One day is fine. More than that raises questions."
Hermione hesitated, then reached under her robes and pulled out a thin gold chain.
Harry blinked. "What's that?"
Hermione held it up. A small hourglass pendant hung from it, sand shimmering faintly inside.
"A Time-Turner," she said quickly. "It lets me go back a few hours. I've been using it to attend multiple classes."
Harry stared at it. "You're joking."
Hermione turned to Neville, narrowing her eyes slightly when she saw his expression.
"You knew I had this, didn't you?"
Neville gave a small, knowing smirk. "I had a hunch. I didn't actually think they'd give a third year something that could completely unravel space and time if misused. Sometimes I think Hogwarts can't get more reckless… and then they surprise me."
Hermione rolled her eyes faintly, though there was a flicker of pride there too.
"With this," she continued, slipping into problem-solving mode, "we can take turns monitoring the potion. Brew in cycles. Go back in time, attend classes, then return to check on it. No one has to miss anything."
Harry and Neville exchanged a look. Then they both nodded.
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