Neville leaned back against the creeping vines in a peaceful bliss as he thought back on his life. Becoming Hogwarts' herbology professor was no question when the job was offered to him a decade after his seventh year. He had a successful nursery just outside a little brier patch near Portree but the offer was too good to pass down. Too this day, he'd never felt an ounce of regret.
The short, pudgy first year stood in front of his fellow Gryffindors, "I won't let you. I- I'll fight you!" He knew they would hurt his new friend in a panic if he let them do what they wanted to. Hermione was the only one who might not- Harry and Ron, they never paid attention in Herbology class. And then, Neville couldn't remember anything but the ceiling until Prefect Percy found him an hour later, by then it was too late.
He could still remember the day he'd found the plant. It was one of the many times that year he got lost trying to find the common room. Somehow, he'd ended up in the third floor corridor but had run into a room when he heard a noise behind him. The room had been dark aside from a slight, frosted glow through a high window- it had let him find the crack in the wall which had seemed so out of place at the time. Hogwarts never showed signs of age. Neville couldn't help but chuckle when he thought of how terrified he had been- the bloody vine had shot right out at him desperately clinging to his ankle. Of course, he'd swiftly fell unconscious- but to his credit, only for a minute or so. Throughout the rest of the year Neville was able to acquire a mixture of sugar water and chicken blood from Hagrid to care for his new friend. He would never forget how it held him gently after one of Malfoy's pranks nearly destroyed his Mimbulus Mimbletonia.
He'd been lucky that the teachers never felt the need to remove the plant. He would have hated to take a cutting before absolutely necessary. As it was, he had time enough during the celebrations proceeding the final battle. His friend had never held the small pain against him after he'd taken the offshoot he found growing nearby in an unused classroom.
Neville sighed in contentment and reclined further into the affectionate vines, the dark and humid room doing wonders for the remnants of his cold. That is until Susan Bones, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and former auror walked into the room with a sly little smirk on her face.
"So, Neville, I hear Seamas is looking for you again." The little leprechaun was always pestering him for dinner and simply wouldn't take no for an answer. If there was something other than plants that Neville knew, it was that gay men did not take asexuality very well.
"Eh, that's nice. I'm quite happy where I am. He can search a little longer," as he said that a thin vine lovingly caressed the back of his left hand. Neville smiled.