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Breakfast With Neville Longbottom



The castle was still dark when Hagrid, Ermalene and Andy got up and began their trek across the grounds. “Ain’t nuthin’ like the breakfast the House Elves make in the great hall,” Hagrid was saying to them, “Kegs o' coffee and warm toast and marmalade…” He led the way along the winding path to the big wooden doors of the entrance. “Ain’t many others here for the summer, mind, but it’s gettin’ ter be closer ter the end of the holidays so some the teachers might be back by now I reckon.”

Ermalene could’ve cared less what the food would taste like - though she’d heard many times over from Andy that the feasts at Hogwarts were the most delicious meals he’d ever taken in, “loads” better than Flamel Academy. Ermalene was excited to be stepping into such hallowed grounds, where the history had steeped and brewed over centuries, where somewhere in the many turrets and corridors that made up the castle, was an answer to all of the questions that burned within her. Somewhere, there was a headmaster’s portrait of the greatest wizard of all time, and it wanted to speak with her.

Andy grinned as they stepped into the castle and took a deep breath, “Ahhh -- Hogwarts!” he said, eyes gleaming, “I didn’t realize how much I missed it ‘til we got in the doors.” He looked up at a grand staircase that wrapped away to the second floor, grinning. “I slid down those banisters so many times in the terms I spent here….” Then his eyes fell on the great glass vials containing the gemstones that tallied the points for each of the four houses - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. “Ah,” he groaned, “Slytherin won the House Cup last year, ey?” He frowned.

Hagrid nodded. “Won it twice in a row now… It’s the ruddy Quidditch team what keeps messing up Gryffindor. They’re in need of a new seeker. A good seeker’s been hard ter come by. Too many people want ter try out fer the position now because of Harry Potter, I expect.” He waved for them to follow him into the Great Hall.

The tapestries ‘round the room were green and silver, still up from the last day of term. Andy nudged Ermalene as they followed Hagrid, and pointed to an old man in the corner. “That’s Argus Filch,” he whispered. “Older than the castle, he is. He was old forty years ago. He’s over a hundred now. We used to put in bets in the common room whether old Filch would drop dead before the next Hogsmeade weekend or not.”

Ermalene said, “That’s terrible.”

“He’s an old goat, Erma,” Andy said, “Always gettin’ the kids in trouble for playin’ with joke products. He’s twice the Evil Caretaker that old woman Juniper Fudge is at Flamel!”

Hagrid had led them to the Gryffindor table. An older man was sitting on the long bench already, reading thick herbology book over a steaming cup of tea that had strange roots sticking out of it and a jelly doughnut on a plate beside his elbow. “Neville,” called Hagrid, walking up to the man, “How’re you?”

Neville Longbottom looked up from the herbology book at Hagrid, “Hello Hagrid.” He spotted the two teens in tow. “Andrew Weasley!” he put the book down and stood up, dusting doughnut crumbs from his robes as he did so, “How are the States?”

“Good, good,” Andy said, smiling, “There’s no herbology teacher as good as you at Flamel, though.” Ermalene thought that Andy didn’t think there was anything as good as Hogwarts at Flamel at all. Not that she would disagree, and she’d only been inside Hogwarts for ten minutes at best.

Neville blushed. “Well, I don’t know about that. You have Cassandra Lyons there, don’t you? She’s quite good, I’ve met her at conventions. We’ve swapped some native plants before so that students could have a better rounded education.”

“I thought I recognized your mimbletonia,” grinned Andy.

“And who is this?” Neville asked, looking at Ermalene.

“Ermalene Talon,” she introduced herself, holding out a hand for a shake to Neville, who took it. “I’m a friend of Andy’s from Flamel,” she added.

“Very good,” Neville said, “Just visiting Hagrid and Hogwarts today, then?”

“Gettin’ breakfast at the mo’,” Hagrid answered, “But then we’re off ter search the castle for the Hall of Ancestors.”

Neville laughed, “But that’s a myth.”

Hagrid shook his great, wooly head, “The Hall of Ancestors is as real as the giant squid is!”

“The squid’s real?” Ermalene said.

Andy looked around at her, “Of course the squid’s real.”

She blinked in surprise, “I always thought he was more of a - a story they told about Hogwarts. Like the Lochness Monster.”

“Real, too,” Hagrid said. Then, to Neville, added, “Professor Dumbledore’s portrait is in the Hall of Ancestors an’ before he died he asked me ter bring Ermalene here ter see ‘im.”

“Dumbledore?” Neville looked surprised. He looked at Ermalene and then back to Hagrid, “But - he died - how old is? - I - I mean -- well, why?"

Hagrid shrugged, “Yer guess’s good as mine is, prob’ly better, I ‘magine.”

Suddenly three plates popped up in front of where they stood on the table - two normal sized ones and one very large plate with a very large cup. “‘bout time,” Hagrid said and hefted himself down on the bench in front of the large place setting.

“Oh boy - waffles!” Andy exclaimed and leaped onto the bench, followed by Ermalene. He grabbed at his fork and knife and quickly cut into the thick pieces of buttery waffles, covered with berry marmalade.

“Is there any maple syrup?” Ermalene asked, looking ‘round. She’d no sooner asked than a vial of thick syrup appeared before her. “Wow,” she said, and looked under the table.

“It’s the house elves,” Andy explained. “I think they apparate it up from the kitchens.”

“They’re brilliant,” she said, digging into the most delicious waffles she’d ever tasted in her life. “And good cooks, too.”

“The best,” Andy agreed.

“So yer not knowin’ nothin’ ‘bout where ter find the Hall then, Neville?” Hagrid asked.

“No sir,” Neville replied, “I always thought it was just a story.” He shrugged. “Maybe one of the castle ghosts would know?” He looked around. A nearly transparent man was floating overhead, reading a ghostly letter in his hands. “Oi! Nick!” The figure looked up at Neville’s shout and came over.

“I should think that now you are a grown man and a teacher no less that your manners might have improved,” scolded the figure with a sigh, “But then again I guess some things never change. What can I do for you Longbottom?”

“Hagrid’s got a question ‘bout the Hall of Ancestors, you know where it’s at?” Neville asked.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, of course, Nick,” Hagrid said, nodding his head and spilling a bit of coffee on his shirt front.

Ermalene and Andy watched the ghost hovering over the table. “That’s Nearly Headless --” Andy started to explain, but Ermalene cut him off.

“I know,” she whispered.

“The Hall of Ancestors, ey?” Nick asked, rubbing his chin, “No I’m ‘fraid I don’t know where it is these days. It used to be accessible through the Room of Requirement, but as we know that room was destroyed during the Battle of Hogwarts. Possible there is no way into the Hall now that the Room of Requirement has gone..."

“Know anybody who might know, Nick?” Andy asked, “Maybe Professor Binns?”

“Binns has long since moved on,” Nick replied. He glanced around. “Hmm. Perhaps Xenophilius. He seems to know all the funny sort of things like myths and what not.”

“Old Lovegood ain’t goin’ ter know ‘bout the Hall o’ Ancestors,” Hagrid said, shaking his head, “He weren’t a ghost last time it was used, was he? Minerva McGonagall knew where it was. If only she was here.” He frowned.

Nick mused, “Yes… well… the only other option would be the Bloody Baron.” He visibly shivered. “You’ll have to ask him yourselves if you plan to.” With that, Nick darted away before any of them could inquire any further, carrying his letter out of the Great Hall through the ceiling.

The four of them turned their attention across the hall to the Slytherin table where there hovered a morose-looking ghost, adorned with chains and blood-stained clothes.

Looking back to Hagrid, Neville began to collect his things, balancing his doughnut and tea on top of his Herbology book. “Well then, Hagrid, I wish you good luck in finding the Hall of Ancestors, I’ve got a whole load of Third Year essays to scroll through… Nice meetin’ you, Ermalene… Andy, tell your mum and dad hello and your Uncles, too.” He nodded goodbye and quickly rushed out of the Hall.

Hagrid turned back to his breakfast.

“Why’s everyone so afraid of the Bloody Baron?” Ermalene questioned, looking over at Andy and Hagrid between glances at the ghost.

“Look at him, Erma,” Andy replied, waving his hands, “He’s covered in centuries-old blood!”

“He murdered Helena Ravenclaw, he did,” Hagrid said.

“But he’s dead,” Ermalene said, exasperated. “He can’t kill anybody else now. Ghosts can’t kill living people. Can’t even touch them! Their hands go right through!”

Hagrid shivered, “Maybe not but he could haunt yer for a spell, couldn’t he? No thank you! That’s ‘nuff to scare the dress robes off anybody! The Baron’s a right old grudge keeper, he is. Been at Hogwarts hauntin’ the place since he died in the 1000s! O’er a thousand years whatever it is that’s keepin’ him from restin’ ain’t been resolved. Bound not ter be changin’ anytime soon, I’d reckon,” he added. “If he’s willin’ ter go through sommat as terrible as hauntin’ ‘round these parts fer anythin’ as long as ‘e ‘as been then you can get to imagin’n that he ain’t goin’ ter give up on hauntin’ yer if you get on ‘is bad side. Tha’s why ever’body’s afraid of ‘im.”

Andy was watching the Baron through all this exchange as he finished off his waffles.

“But if he knows where the Hall of Ancestors is --” Ermalene started.

Suddenly, Andy stood up and without waiting for either Ermalene or Hagrid to follow, he started off across the hall.

“What’s he doin’?” Hagrid asked.

Ermalene blinked in surprise as Andy passed the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. “Oh Lordy, he’s fulfilling his promise to find the Hall. Good God.” She leaped up and ran after him. “Andrew Fredrick Weasley!” she called out, but he didn’t stop or even slow. Hagrid wiped his mouth quickly on his sleeve and followed after them.

Before they could catch up, though, Andy had reached the Baron. “Excuse me, Mr. Baron,” he said in a clear, ringing voice, “Could I have a word with you a moment about the Hall of Ancestors?”

The Bloody Baron gave Andy a lazy once-over with his nearly transparent eyes and turned on the spot and glided off through the wall, disappearing from sight as Ermalene and Hagrid caught up to him. Andy sighed in frustration.

“Well that’s that,” Hagrid said. He leaned down, his great big hands on his knees, breathing heavily as he recuperated from running across the hall after Andy. “On ter Plan B, then?” he suggested.

“What exactly is Plan B?” Ermalene asked.