The Courtship of Neville Longbottom

Neville breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped into the greenhouse and slowly closed the door behind him. Inhaling deeply, he walked, mesmerized by the sunny, steamy atmosphere.

Glancing around to make sure that nobody was present, Neville quickly took off his dark outer robe, folded it, and tucked it neatly under his arm along with his Asian fungi book. As he began to sweat in the balmy environment, Neville wiped his brow and then loosened his red and gold-striped Gryffindor tie. He was in the process of rolling up his starched shirtsleeves when he heard a noise from behind him and quickly turned around.

"Neville!" a cheery voice echoed throughout the greenhouse as he found the diminutive Professor Sprout tottering forward to embrace her favorite student. Neville grinned and gave the stout Head of Hufflepuff House a brief hug, causing dirt from her well-worn robes to smear onto his shirt.

"Well, well, well!" she exclaimed as she stepped back to look at him, straightening her patched witches' hat. "You've grown nearly a foot!"

Neville smiled again and waved away her comment with his free hand.

"Don't be bashful with me, young man!" she said in a mockingly stern tone of voice. "I've known you since first-year!"

Neville blushed, shrugged, and pretended to inspect a nearby herb.

"Oh!" he started suddenly. "Are these Snargaluff stumps?" Neville pointed with unfeigned and intense interest beyond a patch of bright orange herbs and towards a grisled and gnarled-looking group of tree stumps.

Professor Sprout beamed up at him. "They are!" she said proudly, glancing over at the deceptively dead-looking stumps. "You've always been one of my brightest students, Neville!"

Neville blushed again as Professor Sprout continued to beam at him like a proud parent. Sheepishly, and with some genuine curiousity, he leaned slightly forward to inspect the Snargaluff stumps as a warm feeling that had nothing to do with the greenhouse atmosphere washed over his body. It was rather nice to be appreciated, he thought to himself.

"We will start in on these in a few weeks, hopefully," Professor Sprout said, pointing at the stumps. "But first, we'll start off with some Venomous Tentaculas."

Neville's eyes lit up at the mention of this deadly, but useful plant, and the merry witch grinned back in response.

"Actually, Neville, do you have time for a cup of tea? There are a few things I'd like to talk to you about."

Neville nodded, "I'd like to talk to you too, Professor, it's about my mimbulus mimbletonia. I've been trying to breed it, you know, but every time I try to take a cutting, I wind up covered in stinksap. Also, is it supposed to grow leaves? Ever since I started trying to take cuttings it has grown leafy branch-like appendages. Do you think it cross-pollinated with something near my house?"

Professor Sprout smiled broadly and launched into deep mimbulus mimbletonia breeding speculation as she led Neville through the greenhouse towards her office.

One hour, and five cups of tea later, Neville was tripping over himself with excitement as he exited the greenhouses, thanking Professor Sprout profusely and shaking her hand for a lot longer than was actually necessary. Professor Sprout simply beamed merrily, her eyes laughing up at him.

"So I'll see you tomorrow morning bright and early," her voice sang as Neville finally stopped shaking her hand and stepped aside to allow the first-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws of her next Herbology class in.

"T-thank you so much, Professor! I, I'll see you tomorrow! I won't let you down!" he stuttered earnestly as he broke into a run down the corridor, rushing awkwardly through the throngs of students who were heading to their next class.

"Don't forget! If Professor Snape tries to give you detention, just tell him to see me!" she called down the corridor, but Neville was already out of sight. Sighing and shaking her head, the kind witch wiped her hands on her robes, immediately dirtying them with clumps of mulch and compost, before turning back towards the greenhouse door and ushering her students in with a smile.

As Neville zig-zagged through clusters of students, determined to make it to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class on time, he couldn't help letting out a whoop of victory as he ran, causing several students to turn their heads and stare.

"Me! A student teacher!" he called out joyfully as he turned the corner. He stopped abruptly and paused to compose himself when looked down the hallway and saw the queue outside the classroom door. Hermione was the first one waiting, as always, and Neville didn't want to further his clumsy reputation by tripping and sprawling on the ground at her feet.

Running his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to tidy it, Neville, in what he hoped was a casual saunter, walked to the back of the queue.

"Oh hey Neville," Parvati Patil said as he joined the queue behind her. "How was your holiday?"

"Uh, it was good," Neville said, caught off-guard that Parvati had initiated a conversation with him. Usually she was either unaware of his existence or too busy gossiping with Lavender.

"Hi Neville!" a bright voice said behind him. Neville turned around to see Lavender herself grinning at him. He opened his mouth to reply, but Lavender quickly cut him off.

"Would you mind trading places with me? I need to tell Parvati something?" Parvati giggled and leaned her head slightly towards the front of the queue.

Neville blushed, wondering if it was possible that Lavender had found out about his attraction to Hermione. He stuttered out a response as he shuffled back so Lavender could take his place.

"Oh, and Neville," Lavender giggled. "There's something in your hair." Parvati giggled again as Lavender reached up and pulled a leaf off of Neville's head.

"Sorry," Neville said automatically, running his fingers through his hair frantically. "I was working in the greenhouses with Professor Sprout. And guess what?"

However, Lavender was already involved in what appeared to be a deep conversation with Parvati as the two girls continued to cast their eyes towards the front of the queue. Neville felt his blush deepen and he slumped his head to look down at his trainers for what seemed like the tenth time that morning.

"Inside," he heard a sharp voice command, and Neville looked up to see that Professor Snape had opened the door to the classroom. Everyone fell silent and slowly walked in.

Neville noticed an immediate difference in the room's atmosphere. Where Professor Umbridge had kept it brightly lit, almost too brightly in Neville's opinion, Professor Snape seemed determined to create a dismal and dreary atmosphere by shutting all of the drapes and relying on a few, well-placed but scanty-looking candles. A few, very realistic, depictions of injured or cursed wizards and witches were hung neatly on the walls around the desks.

He fumbled his way towards his seat, trying to get one as close to Hermione as he possibly could. Not only did he want to be close to her, but he also might need her help on an assignment, Neville thought wryly as he watched her pull Confronting the Faceless from her bookbag.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," Professor Snape said, looking pointedly at Hermione. Neville quickly pulled his hand up from the floor, where he had been reaching for his own book, and quietly slid his bookbag further underneath his desk.

"I wish to speak to you," Professor Snape continued, "and I want your fullest attention." Neville shrank back nervously in his seat as Professor Snape's eyes peered over the class, shivering when his eyes met the professor's.

Neville slumped down in disgust. For five years he had let Professor Snape use him as his fall-boy, the laughingstock of the class. He glanced over at Hermione who was, as usual, listening to her teacher with rapt attention, her dark eyes glinting with intelligence as they darted, following Professor Snape as he paced at the front of the room. Sighing, Neville slumped further and rested his head on his hand.

Hermione thought he was an idiot, and frankly, Neville thought, he couldn't blame her. He looked up to see that Professor Snape had moved to the outer edges of the classroom where the candlelight was at its dimmest.

Straightening in his seat a bit, Neville leaned forward and tried to focus on Professor Snape. He would prove himself to Hermione, and he'd start by doing well in all of his N.E.W.T. classes.

"Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo," Professor Snape was saying to the class, raising his voice a bit to capture recapture the attention of his lagging students.

"These pictures," he continued, waving a long arm in their general direction, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse."

Neville gulped as he took in the vivid image of a witch in what appeared to be excruciating pain, made more haunting by the flickering candlelight. Swallowing down the bile that had risen in his throat, he forced himself to pay attention.

"Or provoke the aggression of the Inferius," Professor Snape was pointing out the picture of a bloody mess of robes slumped on the ground to the class.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati shrilly interrupted. "Is it definite, he is using them?" The class looked to Professor Snape, obviously tense and awaiting his answer.

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," Snape told her calmly. "Which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now," he began, pausing to swoop over to the front of the classroom once more, "you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Neville watched Hermione's hand rise quickly into the air. He rested his head on his hand once more. Neville had always admired Hermione's inherent intelligence and willingness to share it with the rest of the class.

Professor Snape, however, seemed to disagree with Neville's high opinion of Hermione Granger, and only after looking around the classroom, in an attempt to scare another student into answering, did he call on her for the answer.

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform which gives a split-second advantage," Hermione said quickly and precisely.

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six," Professor Snape retorted. From a darkened corner in the classroom Draco Malfoy chortled. Neville turned and glared in Malfoy's general direction.

"Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting," Professor Snape was saying. "Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack." Professor Snape sought out Harry again and for a few moments the class held its breath as the teacher and student locked eyes, their obvious contempt for each other painfully visible.

Neville breathed an audible sigh of relief when Professor Snape averted his gaze and returned his attention to the entire class. He didn't want to see Harry get in any more trouble, and he knew that Professor Snape wouldn't hesitate to give Harry detention, or worse, even for the most minor of infractions.

"You will now divide into pairs," Professor Snape instructed. "One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

There was a brief flurry of activity as chairs scraped away from their desks and the students sought out their desired partners. Neville tentatively at Hermione as Harry and Ron immediately turned towards each other, as they often did in class exercises, leaving her without a partner.

Hermione nodded briskly and breathed in deeply, Neville assumed, to steel herself before trying out a nonverbal spell. As Neville pulled his brand new wand out of his pocket, Hermione opened her eyes and quickly summed him up.

"Maybe it would be better if you did the jinxing," she said, with a small amount of uneasiness in her voice. Neville's heart, and face, fell as he realized that she didn't trust his skills enough to be able to produce a Shield Charm in time to ward off what would eventually be her first successful nonverbal jinx.

He shrugged in reply and searched his head for a quick hex that he could use on Hermione. Finally deciding on the Jelly-Legs Jinx, which if it miraculously hit her wouldn't do much harm, Neville didn't even bother to try it without speaking. Hermione already thought he couldn't do it, and there was no point in embarrassing himself in front of her more than was necessary.

As he whispered the curse under his breath, he watched her squeeze her eyes tightly before sidestepping to miss the curse. Neville waited for her to compose herself before trying it again, and took a moment to study the rest of the class's progress. Ron seemed to be on the verge of passing out or throwing up, his face turning an odd shade of bluish-purple, while Seamus and Dean were both whispering their curses and countercurses so loudly, Neville was surprised that the next classroom over couldn't hear them.

Turning back to Hermione, Neville quietly breathed the Jelly-Legs incantation. To his amazement, Hermione produced a strong, and silent, Shield Charm. They both looked at Professor Snape for some sort of acknowledgement, but he pretended not to see the pair, and instead, strode over to where Harry was bracing himself for a jinx from Ron.

"That's so unfair," Neville said softly to Hermione. "I think what you just did was brilliant." Hermione shook her bushy-brown head of hair to brush off his compliment; however, she also blushed slightly and looked rather pleased to be acknowledged. Neville grinned back at her before noticing that her eyes were focused beyond him, watching Harry and Ron's progress.

"Protego!" Neville heard Harry shout as the strength of his Shield Charm threw Professor Snape into a nearby desk.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?" Professor Snape spat out as he straightened and dusted himself off.

"Yes," Harry replied shortly.

"Yes, sir."

"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor," Harry said cheekily glaring up at him.

Both Neville and Hermione gasped at Harry's audacity.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," Professor Snape said, sounding the happiest he had been all class. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter...not even the Chosen One." Professor Snape then turned his back on Harry to find the entire class staring at him.

"Did I tell any of you to stop practicing?" he asked. His statement earned Professor Snape a few head-shakes as the students returned to their partners.

"Well then," Professor Snape said simply before striding towards his desk, his long black robes billowing out behind him as he walked.

Neville shuddered before turning back to Hermione. As he continued to whisper the jinx under his breath, Neville wondered if there would ever be a day when he was no longer afraid of his former Potions master.