A Longbottom's Courage
Request: Yes / No hiiiI’ve requested before and I really like your writing and I had a idea
could i request a fic where the reader is Neville’s older sister (Fred and George age) but she’s his oppositeGryffindor, tough, plays Quidditch, gets into fights regularly (over her little brother), overprotective, best friends with the twins, calls out anyone who makes fun of her brother just the very sporty girl type
(Take place maybe In like the 3th or 4th movie) anyways for no one believes they are siblings because of they differences so the two often overhear other students talking about their sibling and this ends in reader beating up people for talking bad about him but one time Neville hears the slytherin team talking bad about her and defends her🥹🙏 and then gets chased but she saves him
also maybe one of the twins likes her but I don’t mind you can pick @lydiadeetz-666
Requests are open, but for anything I write for but Riverdale, I’m not feeling much inspo for that right now! <3 Have a nice day/night
George Weasley x Fem!Longbottom!Reader
Neville Longbottom x Sister!Reader
Word count: 2774
Warnings: Nothing I think?
Y/N: Your Name
PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!
If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!
Masterlist
If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!
(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)
If there was one thing Hogwarts students loved more than gossip, it was pretending they knew everything. And apparently, according to half the school, Neville Longbottom wasn’t actually my brother.
I leaned against the doorway outside the Great Hall, lazily spinning my wand with one hand while listening to a group of second-years whisper just loudly enough for me to hear.
“I swear he’s adopted.”
“No way!”
“Have you seen Y/N Longbottom?”
“She’s captain material.”
“Exactly! She’s brilliant at Quidditch, she’s like a total Gryffindor, she’s always hexing someone.”
“And Neville melted his own cauldron.”
I sighed. Same conversation, different idiots. This is like the thousandth time I’ve heard this.
“Maybe she’s his cousin.”
“Nah, they don’t even look alike.”
“I heard Professor McGonagall took pity on him because-”
I cleared my throat. Four terrified second-years slowly turned around.
“...Continue.” I said pleasantly.
Silence.
Once boy actually squeaked.
“I was just saying,” I smiled sweetly. “I’d love to hear another theory.”
Nobody moved.
“I-”
“I-”
“I think we should go.”
“Excellent idea.”
They scattered faster than Cornish pixies. I snorted and pushed into the Great Hall.
“Another fan club?” Fred asked as I walked over to them.
“They’re getting less creative.” George grinned from beside him.
“Any new conspiracies?”
“They’ve upgraded from ‘adopted’ to Professor Sprout grew Neville in a greenhouse.”
Fred burst into laughter so hard pumpkin juice nearly came out his nose. George nearly fell off the bench.
“I’d believe it.” Fred wheezed.
George nodded solemnly. “He does like plants.”
I smacked both of them over the head. “You two aren’t helping.”
“No.” Fred agreed. “But we’re entertained.”
Across the hall, Neville walked in carrying an armful of Herbology books. Immediately, someone “accidentally” shoulder-checked him. Books exploded everywhere. My smile disappeared, George noticed instantly.
“...Uh oh.”
Fred followed my gaze. “Oh. The poor fool.”
Neville immediately dropped to his knees. “S-Sorry…”
Sorry? He got shoved! Before he could pick up even one book, I was already marching across the hall. The third-year who’d knocked him over laughed with his friends, didn’t see me coming. He turned just in time for me to grab him by the collar.
“What,” I asked pleasantly. “exactly was funny?”
His face went white. “I-I didn’t-”
“You shoved my brother.”
“It was an accident!”
“You laughed.”
“I-”
“Interesting accident.”
People nearby slowly backed away. They’d seen this before. Unfortunately for the boy… so had I. Neville looked up.
“Y-Y/N…”
I ignored him. “Apologize.”
“I-”
“Now.”
“...Sorry.”
“To Neville.”
The boy swallowed. “Sorry, Neville.”
Neville immediately shook his head. “It’s okay.”
“No.” I said without looking away from the idiot in my grip. “It isn’t.”
Then I let him go, hard enough that he stumbled backward into his own friends. The Great Hall had gone almost silent, again. Professor McGonagall looked over her glasses, saw me, saw Neville collecting books, and saw the guilty third-year. She simply sighed.
“Miss Longbottom.”
“Professor?”
“Kindly refrain from intimidating students before breakfast.”
“After breakfast?”
A tiny twitch appeared at the corner of her mouth. “No.”
Worth asking.
Neville caught up to me after Charms. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“They only laughed.”
“They shoved you.”
“It wasn’t-”
“Nev.”
He sighed. I hated when he sighed like that. He’d done it since we were kids. Ever since Gran convinced him he needed to be tougher. Ever since everyone decided he wasn’t magical enough. Even since people started treating him like he was broken.
“They think I’m weak.”
“They’re idiots.”
“But-”
“You know what I think?”
He looked at me.
“I think you’re the bravest person here.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “...Me?”
“You.”
“But I’m scared of everything.”
I smiled.
“And yet you keep doing it anywhere.”
He blinked.
“That’s what bravery is.”
He actually smiled. Then Seamus walked by.
“Mornin’, Y/N.”
“Morning.”
He looked between us. “You know…”
“Oh no…” I muttered.
“You two really do look related when you smile.”
Neville looked confused. I laughed.
“See?”
“Everyone says we’re different.”
“They’re blind.”
Practice that afternoon was freezing, perfect weather. I loved flying, everything made sense in the air. No whispers. No rumors. No worrying. Just wind, wood, and speed. Madam Hooch blew the whistle, I shot upward, someone below yelled.
“There goes Longbottom!”
“Which one?”
“The good one!”
My broom stopped so suddenly I nearly flew over the front. Excuse me? Fred, who flew over, immediately grabbed my arm.
“No.”
“I just want to talk.”
“No.”
“They called me-”
“I know.”
“They called Neville-”
“I know.”
“I’m going.”
“No.”
George appeared on my other side.
“We literally have bets on how long it’ll take before McGonagall bans you from Quidditch.”
“I can make it quick.”
“No.”
“I’ll use my fists, no magic.”
“Even worse.”
I crossed my arms. “They called him the bad Longbottom.”
George’s expression softened. “I know.”
I looked across the field. “They don’t even know him.”
Fred’s usual grin faded. “They will.”
I looked over. “What?”
“They’ll know.”
George nodded. “Your brother’s got something in him.”
“You really think so?”
“We know so.” They said in unison. I smiled despite myself.
That evening, the common room buzzed with homework and chatter. Neville sat by the fire reading. Neville sat by the fire reading. I was halfway through polishing my wand when two fifth-years walked past.
One whispered. “...don’t understand how she’s related to him.”
The other laughed. “I’d be embarrassed.”
Something snapped. I stood, Fred grabbed my sleeve.
“No.”
George grabbed the other one. “Definitely no.”
“They called Neville embarrassing.”
Fred looked tired. “Y/N.”
“They’re right there.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m just going to-”
“Last warning.”
“They insulted my-”
George sighed dramatically. “Fred.”
“Yeah?”
“Deploy emergency distraction.”
Fred immediately jumped onto the table. “ATTENTION EVERYONE!”
The common room turned.
“I have invented exploding socks!”
Everyone groaned. George dragged me toward the stairs while everyone gathered around Fred.
“You two are unbelievable.”
“We know.”
“I still could’ve hit them.”
George looked sideways at me. “I know.”
“...Thanks.”
His ears turned slightly pink. Weird.
I didn’t notice, not then. If I had… maybe I’d have realized George had started looking at me differently. The lingering glances. The little smiles. The way he always somehow ended up beside me. I just thought… he was George. My best friend…. That I definitely didn’t have a crush on. Nothing More.
*Neville’s POV*
People always assume I didn’t hear them. Maybe it was because I rarely said anything, maybe because I usually looked down when I walked, or maybe they just thought I wasn’t worth noticing. Whatever the reason, they talked more around me, like I wasn’t even there. Normally, I kept walking. Normally, I let it go. But today… Today it wasn’t about me.
I was on my way back from the library with another Herbology book tucked under my arm, quietly rehearsing Professor Sprout’s notes in my head. Mandrakes… don’t overwater… dragon dung fertilizer… As I rounded the corner near the Quidditch trophy case, familiar green-and-sliver robes caught my eye. The Slytherin Quidditch team. I immediately slowed, not because I wanted to eavesdrop, but because there wasn’t really another way around them. Marcus Flint was leaning against the wall while two younger players laughed about something.
“Honestly,” One of them scoffed. “Longbottom thinks she’s tough.”
“The sister?”
“Yeah.”
Another snorted. “She’s all bark.”
“Nah,” Someone else chimed in. “She’s just got Weasley protection.”
They all laughed.
“If she didn’t have those twins following her around, she’d get flattened.”
Flint chuckled.
“I’d love to see someone wipe that smug grin off her face.”
The others laughed. My grip tightened on my books. Another voice joined in.
“She’s not even that good.”
“I heard she only made the team because McGonagall likes her.”
“Bet she’d cry if someone actually hit her.”
The laughter echoed down the corridor. Something hot twisted in my stomach. They weren’t talking about me this time. They were talking about Y/N. My sister. The one person who had spent our entire lives standing in front of me. The person who got detention constantly because she’d defend me. Who’d gotten bruises because she’d stepped between me and someone bigger. Who never once let anyone make me feel small. Before I could think, I spoke.
“You’re wrong!”
The hallway went silent. Every Slytherin turned toward me. One blinked.
“Longbottom?”
I swallowed. My heart hammered so loudly I was sure they could hear it.
“You…” I started, my voice shaking.
“You don’t know my sister.”
Someone laughed. “Oh, this is rich!”
Another stepped forward. “The little Longbottom found his voice!”
My hands were trembling. “So what if I did?”
Flint folded his arms. “You got something else to say?”
Every instinct screamed at me to apologize. To leave. TO disappear. Instead…
“You couldn’t beat her if you tried!”
Silence.
Then, the entire group burst into laughter.
“You hear that?”
“He’s threatening us!”
“No…” I said, taking one shaky breath. “I’m telling the truth.”
Their smiles disappeared. One of the Chasers slowly pulled out his wand.
“Oh?”
Another followed. “You’ve got a lot of courage today.”
My stomach dropped.
Flint grinned. “I think someone needs reminding where he belongs.”
Three wands pointed at me.
I squeaked. “Oh no…”
“Get him!”
That was all it took. I turned and ran. Footsteps thundered behind me.
“He’s getting away!”
“Don’t let him!”
A curse exploded against the wall beside my head, showering stone across the hallway. I ducked instinctively. Another spell barely missed my shoulder.
“Oh Merlin…”
I wasn’t fast. I knew I wasn’t fast, but fear did amazing things. I flew around corners, nearly crashed into a suit of armor, apologized to it out of habit, then kept running. Students jumped out of the way.
“What’s happening?”
“Why are they chasing Neville?”
“LOOK OUT!”
Another hex shattered a vase behind me. I didn’t look back. If I looked back, I’d trip. I was dead. Okay, maybe not dead… Probably. Hopefully. Definitely expelled if Y/N found out I’d started a fight. No… She’d be proud… Then she’d murder the Slytherins, and she’d be expelled. I rounded another corner, and nearly slammed into someone.
“Nev?”
Y/N.
She caught my shoulders before I hit the floor. Her eyes widened.
“Neville?”
I couldn’t even catch my breath.
“They’re-”
A spell hit the wall inches from us. Y/N slowly looked over my shoulder. Then she saw them. Half the Slytherin Quidditch team charging down the corridor with their wands drawn. Her expression changed instantly from confusion… to fury.
*Y/N’s POV*
“...Excuse me?”
One of the Slytherins skidded to a stop. “Move, Longbottom!”
I stepped in front of Neville. “No.”
“He started this!”
I laughed, actually laughed. “My brother?”
“He insulted us!”
“And somehow six of you decided that meant chasing one terrified third-year through the castle?”
Flint rolled his eyes. “Last chance.”
I glanced back. Neville looked absolutely horrified. “...Y/N…”
“You stay behind me.”
“But-”
“Behind.”
He obeyed immediately. Smart boy. I cracked my knuckles.
“So…” I smiled. “Who’s first?”
A curse flew toward me. I sidestepped it. Another. Blocked. A third. I ducked.
“Oh, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
One rushed forward, apparently forgetting I also had fists. Big mistake. I grabbed his wrist, twisted just enough to make him drop his wand, then shoved him into another Slytherin. They both hit the floor. Someone tried to hex me from behind, I spun.
“Protego!”
The spell rebounded into a nearby suit of armor, sending it crashing over with an earslitting clang. Students were gathering now, watching, and cheering.
“Go, Longbottom!”
“Merlin, she’s taking on all of them!”
A Beater swung at me with his broom. Seriously? I snatched the handle, yanked it free, and tossed it down the hallway. He stared after it.
“Oi!”
A fist caught my shoulder. Pain exploded down my arm. I answered with an elbow to someone’s ribs. Then another shove. Then another block. Someone’s lip was bleeding. I wasn’t entirely sure whoes. A curse grazed my cheek. Warm blood trickled down toward my jaw, it didn’t matter. Nobody touched my little brother. Nobody.
*George’s POV*
“Fred…” I slowed to a stop halfway down the corridor.
“Is that…”
Fred stared. “Yep…”
We watched her shove another Slytherin backward. I winced.
“She’s going to get expelled.”
“Or arrested.”
“Probably both…” We said together.
Another spell narrowly missed her head. I sighed.
“We should probably help.”
Fred’s grin slowly appeared. “I’ve got an idea.”
I reached into my bag. “Already there…”
“Always.”
Three seconds later, POP! A dungbomb exploded in the middle of the hallway. Then another. Then another. The corridor instantly filled with thick, choking, foul-smelling
“UGH!”
“WHAT IS THAT?”
“I CAN’T SEE!”
“WHO THREW THAT?”
Fred’s voice echoed innocently from somewhere inside the cloud. “What a terrible accident!”
I appeared beside her through the smoke like some mischievous guardian angel.
“Come on!”
“I’ve almost got them!”
“You’ve definitely got them!”
“They deserve another punch.”
“They absolutely do.”
I grabbed her wrist anyway. Fred seized Neville’s arm.
“This way!”
We disappeared into the smoke just as distant footsteps echoed through the corridor.
“What’s all this commotion?” Professor McGonagall.
Fred paled. “...Run.”
By the time we reached Gryffindor Tower, we were all breathless. The Fat Lady blinked at us.
“My word…”
“Long story.” Fred puffed.
The portrait sung open. We practically fell inside. The common room erupted.
“What happened?”
“Was it the Slytherins?”
“Did Y/N fight all of them?”
Lee Jordan looked impressed. “Legend!”
“I’m fine.” She insisted.
“You’re bleeding.” Hermione said.
“It’s just a scratch.”
Neville looked ready to cry. “I’m sorry…”
She immediately turned. “For what?”
“They were talking about you.”
“So?”
“I…I told them to stop.”
“...You what?”
His ears turned bright red. “They… they said horrible things. So I… I couldn’t just….”
I could see her heart was bursting. She walked over and wrapped him in a hug before he could finish.
“You defended me?”
“I tried.”
“You absolute idiot.”
“...I know.”
She laughed into his hair. “No.”
She squeezed him tighter. “You absolute hero.”
He smiled, a real smile. One that reached his eyes.
“Come on.” I said, gently touching her elbow.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve got blood on your face.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I know.” My voice was quieter now. “But humor me.”
She nodded. I led her upstairs to the boy’s staircase landing, where the older students often met between the staircases. There was a small sitting nook with a window and enough privacy away from the noise below. I pulled out my wand.
“Hold still.”
“I hate that sentence."
“I know.” My lip twitched. “Episkey.”
The cut on her cheek knitted itself closed. Another careful charm faded the bruise already blooming across her shoulder. My movements were surprisingly gentle. Nothing like the chaotic George everyone else knew.
“You always do this.” I murmured.
“What?”
“Throw yourself between Neville and everyone else.”
She shrugged. “Someone has to.”
“You don’t.”
“Of course I do, he’s my brother.”
My eyes searched hers. “...Yeah.”
Silence settled between us. For once, it wasn’t awkward, just… comfortable.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you someone.” I said softly.
She tilted her head. “What?”
I hesitated, which I could see made her nervous.
“I think…” I laughed quietly at myself. “No, that’s a lie. I know.”
“Know what?”
“I like making you laugh.”
“I noticed.”
“I like watching you fly.”
She blinked.
“I like that you terrify people twice your size.”
A smile tugged at her lips.
“And…” I took a slow breath. “I think I’ve been in love with my best friend for a while now.”
I could see everything in her brain stopped. “George…”
“I know this is probably terrible timing.”
“It really is.”
“Yeah… You’ve got blood in your hair.”
“I noticed.”
Another heartbeat passed.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“I-”
I took a step back. Instead… she caught the front of my robes. I looked at her in surprise.
“I never said I didn’t feel the same.”
My expression softened into the most hopeful smile I’ve probably ever had.
“Can I…?”
She answered by closing the distance. The kiss was gentle, careful. Nothing rushed. Just warm, tentative, and full of everything we’d never managed to say out loud. When we finally pulled apart, we were both smiling like idiots. From downstairs came Fred’s unmistakable voice.
“GEORGE! IF YOU’RE DONE HEROICALLY PATCHING HER UP< NEVILLE’S TELLING EVERYONE HOW HE STOOD UP TO THE SLYTHERINS!”
I laughed against her forehead. “We should probably go celebrate your little brother.”
She smiled. “Yeah.”
For once, he’d been the brave one, and I knew she couldn’t have been prouder.
Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @princessjayll @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @in-slytherin-we-trust @accio-rogers-blog @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @vanessa-kom-skaikru @impulse-anchor @psamathegoesrawr @nighttimemoonlover @liz-owl
