A Neville SI

A Neville SI Chapter 10

He then turned to Neville with a sneer. "I hope you don't mess everything up as badly as you did in the last class." The Slytherins around him snickered.

Hermione, clearly uncomfortable with Snape's mocking, opened her mouth to speak. But Neville gently placed a hand on her arm, signaling her to stay quiet.

Neville and Hermione worked together to brew the Forgetfulness Potion. Their combined efforts resulted in a potion that Snape inspected with a critical eye. After a moment, he grudgingly said, "Passable. It seems losing your memories has made you a bit more competent."

Relieved but still frustrated, Neville and Hermione submitted their potion vials. As they prepared to leave, Snape called after them, "Hand in an essay as long as two and a half feet before our next class."

With that, he dismissed them, and the students shuffled out of the dungeon.

…

"Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty," Neville muttered under his breath, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he pushed himself up from the ground, finishing his final set.

With a groan, he collapsed onto the grass, rolling onto his back to catch his breath.

Neville closed his eyes, breathing heavily, as the early morning sun slowly crept higher, casting a golden glow over the Black Lake. He lay there, still panting in his T-shirt and joggers. It had only been a week since he found himself transmigrated to the wizarding world as neville Longbottom. One of the first things he'd decided to do was get in shape—especially considering how he'd been a bit on the chubby side. Knowing what was to come in the next few years, he figured being fit might give him an edge.

Neville's routine began at 6 a.m. sharp. He'd kick things off with five laps around the length of the Black Lake behind Hogwarts, then dive into some calisthenics—four sets of thirty push-ups, squats, and pull-ups.

After a few moments of catching his breath, Neville pushed himself up and began walking back towards the castle. "I really need to find a potion that helps with soreness," he muttered to himself, rubbing his aching arms and legs. It had only been a few days since he'd started working out, and his body was still adjusting to the strain, especially since the old Neville hadn't been much into fitness.

Following his first day at Hogwarts, Neville had two days off from lessons, which he used to explore the castle and familiarise himself with its many nooks and crannies. On top of that, he'd finished all his homework with a bit of help from Hermione.

With the extra time, he also practiced casting some of the spells from the first-year textbooks. Transfiguration, to his surprise, had come naturally to him, and curious to see if other spells would be as easy, he gave them a go as well.

To his delight, most spells came almost instinctively to him. Neville found he could cast nearly all of the first-year spells on his first attempt.

Feeling pleased with his progress in Charms, he decided to try something more advanced from one of the books his gran, Augusta Longbottom, had given him—"The Essential Spells for Every Witch and Wizard" by Miranda Goshawk.

Neville found the book had some incredibly useful spells, most of which were taught to students in the upper years.

Feeling eager, he decided to try the first spell he came across—the Shrinking Charm, Reducio—which he reckoned would be one of the most practical spells to learn.

He headed to an empty classroom and cast the charm on a chair. It was noticeably harder than the first-year spells he'd practiced. It took him four attempts to get it right. The first time, nothing happened at all, and on his second go, the chair only shrank slightly before the spell fizzled out. It wasn't until his fourth try that he finally managed to shrink the chair properly.

The same went for the counter-charm, Engorgio. Much like Reducio, it took more than one attempt, but Neville successfully cast it on his third try.

He realized these more advanced spells required much more focus. By the end of the session, he was worn out, having spent the rest of the time practicing both spells over and over until he felt confident in perfecting them.

Elated, Neville spent his Saturday and Sunday exploring the castle and practicing spells. But the excitement came crashing down the moment Monday arrived.

In his thrill at being in the Harry Potter world, he had completely overlooked one crucial fact—he was still attending school. And with school came all the tedious assignments and the inevitable annoyances that came with it.

"Pigsnout," Neville muttered as he reached the Fat Lady's portrait on the seventh floor, giving the password to enter the Gryffindor common room.

The portrait swung open, and he stepped inside. Glancing at the clock in the corner, he sighed. It was only 7:15 a.m., and he still had two hours before classes began.

"You look like you're about to keel over," came a familiar voice from his side.

Neville turned to see Hermione, already dressed and ready for the day. She'd clearly been up for a while, as usual.

He greeted her with a tired nod. "Morning, Hermione." Over the past week, the two had become good friends.

Hermione shook her head, clearly amused. "You'd better hurry and get cleaned up, or we'll be late for breakfast."

Neville nodded, stifling a yawn. "Give me ten minutes."

Neville made his way up the stairs to the dormitory he shared with the other first-year Gryffindors. Harry was just waking up.

As he walked to his bed, Neville greeted Harry. "Morning, Harry."

Harry, still groggy from sleep as he climbed out of bed, nodded. "Morning, Neville."

Neville nodded in return, gathering his clothes and towel, which he'd neatly set aside before heading out for his morning workout. Without much further conversation, he gave Harry another nod and headed off for the showers.

After a refreshing shower, he returned to the dorm, adjusting his shirt cuffs as he walked in.

Seamus let out a big yawn and greeted him. "Morning, mate. Just back from your workout?"

Neville smiled and nodded. "Yeah, just got back and had a quick shower."

Ron, stretching and yawning loudly, gave him a look. "You're mental, mate. Who in their right mind would torture themselves like that?"

Dean, who was sitting up in bed next to Seamus, chimed in, "Why are you even doing all that, anyway?"

Neville shrugged, stuffing his Charms, Herbology, and Defence Against the Dark Arts books into his bag. "Just trying to get in shape, you know?"

Seamus snickered. "Ah, for the ladies, is it? You sly dog."

Dean laughed along, adding, "More like for Hermione, I reckon."

Ron, shaking his head as he gathered his things for a shower, chimed in. "I dunno how you get along with her, mate. She's a nightmare."

Neville gave them both a flat look, unimpressed. "I'll see you lot later," he said, slinging his book bag over his shoulder and heading out of the dormitory.

Down in the common room, Hermione was already sitting with a book, fully immersed in reading.

"Come on, let's go, Hermione," Neville said as he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt.

Hermione glanced up from her book, raising an eyebrow. "Took you long enough," she huffed as she stood up, slipping her book back into her bag.

Neville ran a hand through his hair, styling it as he and Hermione stepped out of the portrait hole. Just a few steps ahead, they spotted Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

"Good morning, Parvati. Morning, Lavender," Neville greeted them with a smile.

Both girls turned around, smiling back. "Oh, hey, Neville!" Lavender replied brightly, while Parvati gave a cheerful, "Morning, you two."

Hermione greeted them as well, and they all fell into step together, heading towards the Great Hall. The girls chatted amongst themselves, while Neville hummed quietly to one of his favorite tunes.

I really need to figure out a way to listen to music here, Neville thought as they approached the Great Hall.

When they reached the entrance, Neville pulled open the door and held it for the others, letting them go in first before following behind.

They made their way over to the Gryffindor table and took their seats. Neville quickly helped himself to some breakfast, grabbing a few slices of bread, eggs, bacon, and sausage to make a hearty sandwich.

As soon as Neville entered the Great Hall, he felt a familiar gaze on him. He didn't need to look up to know who it was.

At the head table, Professor Snape sat, sneering in his direction. Neville could practically feel the disdain from across the room, no doubt because of what had happened last Tuesday in the Great Hall.

...

Earlier that week, Neville had sat down with his yearmates for a quiet breakfast, his body still aching from the exercise. He took a bite of his toast, hoping for a peaceful start to the day. Unfortunately, his reprieve was brief. A looming shadow fell over the Gryffindor table, and the greasy-haired Potions Master made his presence felt.

"Longbottom," Snape hissed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Do you think you can simply ignore a detention and get away with it?"

Neville raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. "Detention? Oh, that. I wasn't about to waste my time on something so trivial." He lazily reached into his bag, pulling out a parchment and holding it up. "Here's the assignment you wanted."

Snape's face twitched in fury, his voice rising sharply. "You think handing in this pitiful excuse for an assignment excuses your blatant disregard for authority? For defying a direct order?"

Neville shrugged, taking a casual bite of his toast. "I didn't defy anything, Professor. I just didn't bother attending because it wasn't worth my time."

By now, heads were turning, and whispers rippled through the hall as students watched the heated exchange.

"You're arrogant," Snape sneered, his voice loud enough for half the Great Hall to hear. "Forty points from Gryffindor for insubordination, and another detention for—"

"Excuse me, Severus," came Professor McGonagall's stern voice as she swept over. Her sharp eyes glanced between the two of them. "What is going on here?"

Snape, his lips curling in distaste, turned to her. "Longbottom here seems to think he's above attending detention for not submitting his assignment."

Neville set his toast down and stood up, unfazed by the confrontation. "Professor McGonagall, you know I've lost all of my memories. How exactly was I supposed to know about his assignment on Friday?" His voice was calm

Neville gestured towards Snape, frustration clear in his voice. "Professor Snape took points and gave me detention for something I had no control over. How's that fair, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed deeply, her sharp gaze shifting to Snape. "Severus, is this true? You punished him for not remembering an assignment he couldn't possibly recall because of his condition?"

Snape's usual sneer faltered for a brief moment. "He's been back in classes long enough to—"

"That is entirely beside the point," McGonagall cut in, her voice as sharp as a knife. She folded her arms, standing firm. "If Longbottom is missing memories, punishing him for forgetting something he couldn't help is hardly just, is it?"

Sensing the conversation turning in his favour, Neville handed her the completed work. "Here's the assignment, Professor McGonagall. I finished it the moment I found out about it, but I'm not attending any detention that isn't deserved."

McGonagall's stern expression softened slightly as she glanced at Neville, but her tone remained firm as she turned back to Snape. "Severus, you know better than this. Retract the detention immediately."

Snape's face flushed with irritation, his lips thinning as he tried to hold his temper. Even he knew better than to challenge McGonagall in front of the entire Great Hall. "Fine," he spat, his voice barely above a whisper. "But this changes nothing—"

"It changes plenty," McGonagall interrupted curtly. "Neville, finish your breakfast. Severus, we'll be having a word about this in private." Her tone left no room for debate.

With a swish of his cloak, Snape stalked off, his robes billowing dramatically behind him. McGonagall gave Neville a brief nod before following after Snape.

Neville sat back down, calmly returning to his toast. "Well, that went better than I thought it would," he muttered under his breath.

Ron leaned in, whispering excitedly, "That was mad, mate! I dunno what's gotten into you, but no one stands up to Snape like that!"

Seamus, sitting next to Ron, was wide-eyed with excitement. "Blimey, Neville, you've got some serious nerve! I thought Snape was gonna turn you into a toad right there in the Great Hall!"

Dean, across from Seamus, let out a nervous chuckle. "Or worse, take away even more points. I don't think I've ever seen Snape that livid since we got here."

Harry nodded, his eyes wide. "Yeah, mate! I can't believe you actually talked back to him. That took some serious guts."

Hermione, however, wasn't nearly as impressed. She leaned forward, her brow furrowed in concern. "Neville, you do realize Snape's not going to let this slide, don't you? He's probably already planning how to make things worse for you in Potions." She shot him a meaningful look. "He controls your grades, and he can make your life at Hogwarts miserable if he wants to."

Neville, still adjusting to everything but determined, sighed. "I'm not going to let him punish me for something I couldn't possibly remember. How was I supposed to know about an assignment when I've lost all my memories?"

Seamus leaned in, grinning broadly. "Well, I'm just glad you stood up to him, mate. Someone had to. You're already becoming a legend, and we've only been here a few weeks!"

....

A little while later, the rest of the Gryffindor boys strolled into the Great Hall and took their seats for breakfast, joining the other first years. They all settled down, chatting away as they ate.

After finishing his breakfast, Neville dusted off his hands and stood up. "Right, I'm done. I'm heading to class early—I've got a question for Professor Flitwick. Anyone fancy coming along?" he asked, glancing around at the others.

Hermione, who was sitting beside him, looked up from the book Neville had lent her. She checked her watch and nodded. "Yeah, I'll come with you." The others just shook their heads, content to stay and finish their meal.

With a shrug, Neville left the Great Hall with Hermione in tow.

As they walked out, Neville turned to her. "So, Hermione, what've you learned from that book I lent you?"

Hermione's face lit up with excitement. "Oh, it's fascinating! I had no idea there were so many differences between the Muggle world and the wizarding world. Did you know that what we call Christmas is called Yule here? And all the traditions that come with it—it's brilliant!"

Neville hummed thoughtfully. "Interesting. Well, when you're done, could you make me a summary? That way, I won't have to read the whole thing," he added with a cheeky grin as they climbed a flight of stairs.

Hermione nodded, about to respond when they heard hurried footsteps behind them. Turning around, Neville saw Harry and Ron sprinting towards them, Harry carrying a broom wrapped in a bundle.

The pair rushed past without saying a word. Hermione huffed, clearly unimpressed. She hadn't spoken to Harry or Ron for nearly a week, and the sight of them racing past didn't seem to improve her mood.

Neville, noticing the broom in Harry's hands, thought to himself, So, Harry's finally got his broom, then.

Harry and Ron reached the first floor but found themselves face-to-face with Malfoy. Neville and Hermione arrived just in time to hear Malfoy sneer.

"That's a broomstick," Malfoy said, tossing it back to Harry with a mix of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed them."

Ron couldn't resist. "It's not just any broomstick," he said, grinning at Harry. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What was it you said you've got at home, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty?"

He shot a smirk at Harry. "Comets might look flashy, but they're not in the same league as a Nimbus."

Malfoy's face twisted in annoyance. "What would you know about it, Weasley? You couldn't afford half the handle. I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could retort, Professor Flitwick appeared beside Malfoy, his tiny form barely reaching Malfoy's elbow. "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked in his usual cheerful tone.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said quickly, eager to stir up trouble.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. And what model is it, Potter?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," Harry replied, barely containing his laughter at the horrified look on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added with a grin.

Malfoy's scowl deepened, but he said nothing as he stormed off. Flitwick, after congratulating Harry, continued on his way, leaving Harry and Ron smothering their laughter.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled. "If he hadn't nicked Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team..."

Hermione, who had been trailing behind, suddenly piped up, her tone sharp. "So, I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules?"

Harry turned to her, surprised. "I thought you weren't speaking to us?"

"Yes, don't stop now," Ron added cheekily. "It's doing us so much good."

Hermione huffed in frustration and marched off after Professor Flitwick, clearly not in the mood for their jokes.

Neville, catching up behind her, gave Harry a quick smile. "Congrats, mate," he said warmly before hurrying after Hermione as they made their way to Charms class.

...

After classes ended for the day, Neville excused himself from his yearmates and made his way to the empty classroom where he'd been practicing spells. It was about three in the afternoon, and Neville had chosen this spot over the Room of Requirement—it was too dangerous to use the Room with Quirrell and Voldemort somewhere in the castle.

As he entered the deserted classroom, Neville closed the door quietly behind him and walked over to one of the seats. He placed his bag on the table, pulling out the spell book his grandmother had sent him. "Alright, let's see what spell I should learn today," he muttered to himself, flipping through the pages.

He skimmed past spells he'd already mastered before stopping at one in particular. "Ah, I remember this—Aresto Momentum. That's the spell Dumbledore used to save Harry when he fell off his broom."

Reading through the description, Neville learned the charm was invented by a witch named Daisy Pennifold in 1711 to slow down falling Quaffles during Quidditch matches, giving Chasers a chance to catch them in mid-air. "So, something useful did come out of that game after all," Neville thought, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Right then, let's give it a go," he said, placing the book on the table. He grabbed a nearby duster and tossed it into the air, aiming his wand at it. "Aresto Momentum!" he cast, moving his wand in the M-shaped motion as described in the book. The duster slowed, but only slightly, before falling to the ground.

Undeterred, Neville kept practicing the spell. After three more tries, he finally got it right on his fourth attempt, the duster floating gently to the ground at a much slower pace. Encouraged by his success, he spent the rest of his time refining his technique, casting Aresto Momentum again and again, each time with more confidence and precision.

Feeling satisfied with his progress after a good session of practice, Neville packed up his things, tucked the spell book back into his bag, and made his way out of the empty classroom. He headed back to the Gryffindor common room, ready to relax after a productive afternoon of spellwork.

When he arrived, he spotted Hermione at her usual table, deeply absorbed in her work. Walking over to her, Neville asked, "So, what are you working on there, Hermione?"

Looking up from her work, Hermione said, "The Charms assignment."

Neville nodded and sat opposite her, pulling out his own Charms book. "Might as well finish it early," he said.

For the next couple of hours, they worked in silence, focused on their assignments. Eventually, Neville stretched and stood up, feeling accomplished. "Well, I'm done," he announced, shaking out his arms.

Hermione looked at him, surprised. "How did you finish all your assignments so quickly? I've been working on mine for an hour before you even got here, and I'm just finishing up!"

She grabbed Neville's parchment and scanned through it. "Hey, this isn't even the required length. The professors asked for a foot and a half, and this is way too short."

Neville shrugged casually. "A foot and a half is just pointless, Hermione. The whole point of the assignment is to show we understand the subject. I don't see the need to add unnecessary padding to reach some arbitrary length. As long as all the important information is there, who cares?"

Hermione frowned, clearly not pleased with his answer. "That's not how you're supposed to do assignments, Neville. You'll get into trouble for not following the instructions."

Neville just shrugged again. "Well, I'm not going to waste time writing an essay longer than it needs to be. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Before Hermione could respond, the entrance to the common room opened, and Harry came in, looking completely exhausted, followed by the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

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