Hogwarts: Neville's Insert Chapter 88
Algie let out a low whistle. "A phoenix? Well, that certainly beats the toad I gave you." He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Keep it quiet," Augusta warned firmly. "No one outside this family needs to know."
"Of course, of course," Algie said quickly, raising his hands. "Mum's the word."
Augusta dabbed at her mouth with her napkin before continuing. "And another matter—the Greengrasses spoke to us today. They said Neville may be recommended for an Order of Merlin."
Algie nearly dropped his fork. "Order of Merlin? What for?"
"Apparently," Augusta said dryly, "he's discovered a treatment for blood malediction. The healers have confirmed it works."
Algie turned to Neville, eyes wide, before breaking into a hearty laugh. "You're bringing honour to the Longbottom name, my boy. Seems losing your memories was the best thing that could've happened to you!" He chuckled again, clearly pleased.
Neville laughed awkwardly, cheeks colouring. "Er—thanks, Gruncle Algie. Actually… I've got a few more things I'll need your help to sell."
Augusta groaned, setting her cutlery down with a sharp clink. "Neville… honestly. What is it this time? Where are you even getting all of this?"
Neville just gave her a sheepish smile, scratching at his neck again.
…
Thursday, 1st July 1993 – Longbottom Manor
The afternoon sunlight spilled through the wide windows of Longbottom Manor, stretching across Neville's room in golden bands.
Neville lay sprawled close to the edge of his bed, dead asleep. The warmth of the light crept across his face until, with a groggy shift, he rolled the wrong way and tumbled straight onto the floor.
He jolted awake at the thud, blinking rapidly as the blanket tangled around him. A long yawn escaped before he pushed himself upright, scratching his head and rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" he mumbled to no one in particular.
Turning his head, he spotted the clock on the wall. 2:46 p.m.
Neville blinked again, then let out a low chuckle. "Already afternoon, huh? Slept in longer than I thought." He hauled himself to his feet, dragging the blanket up with him before tossing it back onto the bed. Another yawn slipped out as he stretched his arms overhead, eyes still half-shut.
When he finally opened them, he glanced around the room. His gaze landed on the small perch beside his bed — Lumina's resting spot. Empty.
"Huh. Where is she?" Neville muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Hasn't made it back yet?"
He crossed to his desk, pulled his sling bag off the chair, and rummaged through it until his fingers found a folded sheet of parchment. Spreading it flat on the desk, he snatched his wand from where it lay and tapped the surface.
At once, ink scrawled across the map of Europe, two names appearing: his own, marked at Lancashire where Longbottom Manor sat nestled near the Yorkshire Dales, and Lumina's, just off from Dumfries.
Neville squinted at the inked name. "Still that far? they Must've stopped to rest last night. Should be here by the end of the day."
Another yawn caught him, and he stifled it as he set the wand and map aside. Stretching once more, he grabbed a towel from the rack by the door and padded out of the room toward the shower.
…
Neville tugged a plain T-shirt over his head as he stepped out of his room. Running a hand through his damp hair to flatten the mess, he padded down the wide staircase, bare feet silent on the polished wood.
The drawing room doors stood half-open, making Neville pause on his way toward the dining room. He slowed, curiosity tugging at him, and pushed the door wider as he stepped inside. Augusta was seated in her favourite armchair, while Tinky popped in with a tray balanced high above her head.
The elf set it carefully on the low table — teapot, cups, sugar bowl, and milk jug all rattling faintly. Neville's eyes flicked to the ornate clock on the mantle. Half past three. He stifled a yawn as he walked in.
"Afternoon, Gran. Afternoon, Tinky," he said, stretching his shoulders.
Augusta looked up over the rim of her spectacles. "Good afternoon, Neville. Judging by the hour, I'd say you slept rather well."
Tinky bobbed, ears twitching happily. "Good afternoon, Master Nevvy! Does you be wanting anything to eat?"
Neville dropped into the chair opposite Augusta with a groan of relief. "Didn't realise how tired I was. Why didn't you wake me, Gran?" He glanced at Tinky. "A grilled chicken sandwich would be great, thanks."
The elf bowed low. "Right away, sir!" and popped out of sight.
Augusta reached for the teapot, poured herself a steady stream, and added a careful dash of milk. "You looked dead on your feet when we came home, so I thought it best to let you rest. I've only just returned myself"
Neville glanced up from his sandwich. "Did you go out earlier?"
Augusta gave a short nod. "Yes. Had errands to see to in Diagon Alley. Only just returned an hour ago."
She set her cup down with a soft clink and fixed him with her steady gaze. "And what about you, Neville? What are you planning to do with the rest of the day?"
Neville shrugged. "Honestly, I wasn't planning on doing much today. Just taking it slow for a bit — maybe a few days' rest to start the summer."
Augusta watched him over the rim of her teacup. "That's quite Fine, A few days' rest won't hurt. But I do hope you don't plan to laze about the whole summer."
Neville waved her concern away with his free hand. "Wasn't planning to, Gran. Just a bit of breathing room, that's all."
At that moment, Tinky popped back into the drawing room with a loud crack! balancing a plate in her hands. "Here you go, Master Neville."
Neville smiled, accepting the grilled chicken sandwich. "Thanks, Tinky."
He took a bite, chewed, then said, "Say, Gran — mind if we went out for dinner later? Eating the same thing every day gets boring."
Augusta dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Yes, I was thinking the same myself. Where were you thinking? The Indian place, like last time?"
Neville shook his head. "Let's try Thai food. Heard it's quite good."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Thai? I don't believe I've ever had it before. Very well, I suppose it's worth a try."
They slipped into easier talk for a while, Augusta asking after his professors, Neville sharing what he'd learned — though carefully edited, omitting anything about chambers or basilisks. It was a light, harmless conversation that eased the edge from her sternness.
Eventually, Augusta lowered her cup back onto the saucer with a soft clink. "Now, as I said last summer, starting next week, I'll be taking you along to our business meetings. You won't be doing much — just sitting in, listening. But it'll be a good way for you to see firsthand how the Longbottom businesses are run."
"Yeah, sure, Gran, I don't mind." Neville swallowed the last of his bite, then leaned forward, eyes bright with intent. "But speaking of business… there's something I have to show you, Gran."
Her expression tightened, suspicion flashing in her eyes. "And what is it this time, Neville?"
"It's nothing like that." Neville shook his head. " This is something I've actually. I made. Just have a look at it, and then tell me what you think."
She sighed heavily, leaning back into her chair. "Very well. What is it that you want to show me "
"Right, let me go and fetch it, then just give me a sec." Neville pushed to his feet, sandwich still in one hand, and strode for the door at a brisk pace.
Just as he left the drawing room, the fireplace roared to life in emerald flames. A moment later, Algie Longbottom stepped out, brushing soot from his shoulders with a broad grin.
"Afternoon, Augusta," he greeted. His eyes swept the room. "Where's the troublemaker?"
"Afternoon, Algie." Augusta exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "He's upstairs. Off fetching something. He insists I must see." She gave a weary sigh. "What am I to do with that boy…"
…
A while later, Neville came back into the drawing room with his sling bag slung over his shoulder. Algie was now settled comfortably on the sofa beside Augusta, a teacup balanced in one hand.
"Afternoon, great-uncle Algie," Neville greeted.
"Oh, hey, my boy." Algie grinned broadly. "Dropped by to take a look at all those creature parts you wanted me to sell."
Neville nodded. "Right. I haven't shown them to you yet." He called out, "Tinky!"
With a sharp pop, the elf appeared at his elbow. "Master Neville?"
"Mind fetching my knapsack? Should be on the table in my room, please."
"Yes, Master Nevvy," Tinky squeaked, bowing low before vanishing with another pop.
Neville walked over to join Augusta and Algie, setting his sling bag carefully on the table. Moments later, Tinky returned, clutching the enchanted knapsack in both hands.
"Thanks, Tinky," Neville said as he took it. He set the knapsack down and tugged it open, the mouth of the bag stretching impossibly wide. "Come on," he said, stepping neatly through the opening. "You'll want to see this properly."
Augusta shook her head at once. "No, thank you. I'd rather stay right here. You two can go on ahead."
Algie chuckled and ducked inside after Neville.
The interior expanded into a cavernous space, lit with faint hovering lights. Lined neatly along the walls were thirty large trunks, stacked two-high. Neville strode across the chamber, stopped at one, and flipped the lid back.
"This," he said simply.
Algie stepped up beside him, eyes widening as he peered into the trunk stuffed to the brim with thick, ridged horns. "Is this it?"
Neville nodded once. "All of them are full. Every last trunk."
He moved to the next, opening it to reveal bundled hides and preserved scales. The next, crates of glittering powders and feathers sealed in jars.
Algie let out a long, low whistle, running a hand reverently across one of the ridged horns. "Merlin's beard, boy… do you realise what you're sitting on? This isn't some pile of scraps. Handled properly, this hoard could be worth millions — hundreds of millions of galleons. Just this alone—" he lifted the horn slightly, weighing it in his hands, "—a Grabhorn horn like this goes for ten thousand galleons apiece these days. That's how rare they've become."
"That's why I wanted to sell it," Neville chuckled, gesturing to the rows of trunks stacked neatly inside the expanded space. "According to Jibber, the house-elf, there's about a century's worth of material here. All kept under preservative charms. Some of it's from creatures that don't even exist anymore."
Algie's eyes gleamed as he flipped open another trunk, pulling out a shimmering shell. "Ocamy shells," he muttered in awe. Then he looked up at Neville, excitement bubbling in his voice. "If you tried to flood the market with this lot at once, you'd crash it completely."
Neville nodded easily. "Yeah, I figured as much. So — you think you can sell them, Great-Uncle Algie?"
Algie turned to him, still grinning, still shaking his head at the sheer volume of riches. "Yes, but we'd have to be clever about it. Sell it little by little. Trickle it through the market. It'll take years to shift the lot, but that way the prices stay high and you don't draw too much attention."
A while later, Neville's head popped out of the knapsack's opening, followed by the rest of him as he climbed out into the drawing room again. Algie came after him, grunting. "Give me a hand, Neville. Not as young as I once was."
Neville offered his hand, steadying him as Algie clambered out of the enchanted space. In his other hand, Algie still held one of the ridged, grey Grabhorn horns.
The sight caught Augusta's eye instantly. Her brows rose. "Is that—?"
Algie nodded, still half in disbelief. "Yes. A Grabhorn horn. The boy's got a trunk full of them. And more besides — ocamy shells, acromantula venom, unicorn horn and hair — the works."
Augusta's sharp gaze turned to Neville. "Neville Franklin Longbottom! Where in Merlin's name did you get all of this?"
Neville only grinned, unbothered. "That's my secret, Gran."
She pinched the bridge of her nose, voice tightening. "Neville… just tell me you didn't steal them."
Neville scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Of course not, Gran. They've been sitting around for a hundred years. The wizard who collected them is long dead. The elf who was keeping them didn't know what to do with the lot, so he passed them on to me."
Augusta studied him for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. "So that's what you were so insistent about showing me?"
Neville chuckled softly and shook his head. "No, Gran. This is not what I wanted to show you."
Reaching into his sling bag, he pulled out a flat metal plate etched with runes. He set it on the table and tapped it with his wand. The space lit up at once with a clean blue light, bright and steady.
"This," Neville said with quiet confidence, "is what I really wanted you to see. i call it mLEP
Augusta leaned forward, peering at the glowing plate. "M-L-E-P?"
Neville nodded. "Short for *Magic Light Emitting Plate." He tapped it again, and the glow snapped off.
Algie frowned slightly. "So… a light source?"
"Yep," Neville said simply.
Augusta tilted her head. "Why create this, Neville? Wizards have had light for centuries. Floating orbs, ever-burning torches, glow-globes… what makes this any different?"
Neville gave her a flat look, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Because those are outdated and clumsy. I'm sick of flickering firelight, Gran. You've tried fumbling to the bathroom at night with a candle in one hand or your wand in the other. It's annoying, it's dangerous, and frankly, it's ridiculous we still put up with it."
He tapped the rune array again, and the plate glowed softly, the light dimming to a warm, golden shimmer just brighter than moonlight. "See this? A night-light mode. Enough to see where you're going, but soft enough it won't wake anyone else in the house. No candles, no wand, and no tripping in the dark."
Algie scratched his chin. "But what's the difference? You'd still have to carry this thing around, wouldn't you?"
Neville shook his head. "Not at all. There's a sticking rune built into the base. You slap it on any surface, and it stays put."
Augusta blinked. "Wait — runes?"
Neville nodded as if it were obvious. "Yeah. They're made with runes. Power array, sticking rune, transfiguration lock. All built into the plate."
Algie let out a low whistle. "You don't start runes till your third year."
Neville only shrugged, smirking faintly. "I had some free time."
He pointed his wand at the plate, levitating it smoothly up to the ceiling. With a sharp flick, it attached itself, holding fast. Another flick, and the plain metal warped and shifted into an ornate chandelier, its curved arms gleaming in the steady blue light.
"The outer shell can be transfigured into whatever design we want — wall lamp, desk lamp, ceiling light. And once you've decided on a design, there's a rune here that locks the transfiguration permanently."
He gestured upward at the chandelier now glowing above their heads. "That's the difference."
"The mLEP can do more than that. I've added a detection rune — it senses when someone enters the room, and if the room is dark, it turns itself on. No need to fumble for a wand or light a candle. It can also remember settings. Say you prefer a soft amber glow for reading, or a bright white light for working — you can adjust the intensity once, and it saves that as your default."
He flicked his wand, white brilliance across the drawing room. Another flick, and the light softened into a warm, golden hue. "Clear, strong light when you need it, soft and diffused when you don't. Even the colour can be changed. Floating orbs don't give you that choice. They're dim, Light output is adjustable, and it's powered by the ambient magic from the surrounding area"
Algie gave an approving nod, though his tone stayed practical. "Clever, lad, very clever. But you can't start a business with one shiny toy. How do you plan to make hundreds of these? Thousands? You can't carve those runes by hand one after another — it'd take you ages just to finish a dozen."
Neville pulled out the stencil from his satchel and laid it on a blank piece of metal. "With this. The stencil carries the rune pattern. Place it on the plate, channel magic through, and the entire array imprints in seconds." He demonstrated, pressing the stencil flat. tap of his wand, the runes glowed into the surface of the plate. He lifted it for her to see. "Identical every time. This isn't hand-carving. This is mass production."
Augusta leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.
Neville kept going, confident. "To make them, all we need are two parts — the outer shell and the mLEP plate. I experimented with stone and even paper at first, but metal works best. The only catch is that the plate has to be cut, not transfigured. The runes interfered with transfiguration. "
Augusta gave a slow nod. "I can see the potential, Neville. But this would be a massive undertaking. To market, distribute, and sell such a thing… We deal in potion ingredients, not home fixtures. We'd need an entirely separate pipeline for this."
Neville's grin faltered
Algie nodded, "We can't let the lad's efforts go to waste, Augusta. He's onto something here, and you know it. I say we give it a shot."
For a long moment, Augusta's gaze lingered on Neville. Then she sighed, the corners of her mouth lifting up. "Very well. But this will be your project, Neville. I'll advise, and I'll step in where needed, but the responsibility will be yours from start to finish. If you want this to succeed, you'll have to prove you can see it through."
Neville grinned and nodded. "That's fine, Gran."
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