Disclaimer: I don't own Neville, with or without a beard, Hannah or anyone else. I do have some nice plants, though. Oh, and the title comes from the Edelweiss lyric, so h/t to Rogers and Hammerstein...
"…and then," Susan finished, between gasps of laughter, "Justin said…b-b-but I never liked the colour purple anyway!" Hannah was laughing so hard at the punchline of her friend's story that she didn't hear him appear, and when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention she nearly fell off her chair in fright, causing Susan to laugh even harder.
"Sorry," Neville said, "I…if this is a bad time, I can go, I just wanted to…well, it's not important, so I'll be going!"
"No," she said, catching her breath, "it's okay. Stay. What is it?" She was trying not to look flustered, but didn't think she was doing a very good job of it because both her sister Naomi, who was also having lunch with them, and Susan started looking at her very strangely. Neville, however, did not.
"It's about the Ever Blooming Flutterby Bushes, the ones on the left-hand side," he said seriously.
Hannah lit up. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "I mean, I've been meaning to ask you about those. They're not looking—"
"Too good, I know," Neville said, nodding. "It's because—"
"They hardly need any water, I know," Hannah continued. "So I haven't been watering them, but—"
"With all the rain we've been having lately, they're not doing so well," Neville finished. "I know. It's no good."
"It's such a shame, because they're one of my favourites," Hannah said, "but I think we're going to have to write them off. I mean, I could ask Tom about moving them, so they're a bit more sheltered, but I don't really know where to. They can't go on the muggle entrance side, obviously, and we don't want them tucked around the back with the bins…"
"Impervious Charm," Neville interjected. "I've put one on the soil, a really strong one. No water will get through at all. So all you need to do is—"
"Lift that when I want to water them, and replace it afterwards," Hannah said, catching on. "You're a genius!" She beamed up at him. He matched her expression of delight, and they smiled at each other in companionable glee for a moment or two until Hannah's sister cleared her throat very, very quietly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Would you like to join us? I'm on my break, but I can fetch you a drink if you would like? It's no bother."
"I'd love to," he replied, sounding genuinely disappointed. "But I'm expected in work in…" He checked his watch and bit his lip, "…basically now. I'd better go, I don't want to be late. I just wanted to let you know about the bushes."
"Of course, of course," Hannah said, nodding. "Go! Don't be late on my account. But thank you, thank you so much!"
"Let me know how they come along, yeah?" Neville asked, already heading for the door.
"I will!" Hannah promised, waving at his retreating back until the door swung closed and he vanished from sight. She stared after him, unseeing, for a moment until:
"Who was that?" Naomi asked, bringing her attention back to the table.
"Only Neville Longbottom," Susan said, picking up her glass and exchanging a significant look with Naomi over it.
"Wait, the Neville Longbottom?" Naomi asked. "The Hero of Hogwarts?"
"The one and only," confirmed Susan.
"Don't call him that," Hannah said at the same time. "He hates it, it was that stupid Skeeter woman who gave him that nickname."
The other two ignored her. "Wait, so, if I was three years ahead of you two at school, that means that I was in the same building as someone who looks like that for four years?!" Naomi asked the table at large. "Please explain how I managed to miss that hotness."
"He wasn't hot until maybe halfway through seventh year," Susan said helpfully. "Plus, now he has the whole rugged thing going on with the new beard and everything. Without that, he does kind of look like a child."
"He wasn't unattractive before then!" Hannah said, and both of them turned to her, raising their eyebrows. "I mean—he's not—he's always just looked how he's looked. He's not really fit now, or anything."
"Hannah, darling, do you need your eyes tested?" Susan enquired politely.
"Neville Finebottom, more like," Naomi added.
"For Merlin's sake, stop it," Hannah said. "You're making me feel really uncomfortable!"
"Because you're jealous?"
"What?! No!" Hannah said. "Don't be silly! Why would I be jealous?"
"Because we're making eyes on your man," Naomi said.
"He is not my man!" Hannah said, appalled. Susan gave a disbelieving cough, and she glared. She expected this sort of treacherous behaviour from her sister—but from her best friend?! Outrageous. There was nothing between her and Neville. And that didn't bother her at all. Much. Maybe.
"What is he, then?" asked Naomi.
"We're just friends," Hannah said primly. Both Susan and Naomi gave such loud groans that the diners at other tables turned to stare.
"Honestly, Han, you couldn't have come up with anything less clichéd?" asked Susan.
"We're just friends," Hannah insisted, trying—and failing—to stop her face heating up.
Naomi gave a tiny snort. "Sweetie, you might be just friends, but that boy is not seeking friendship with you." Hannah gave her a look. "Come on. He nearly made himself late for work looking for you to talk to you about a bush. A bush!"
"Plants," Hannah said with dignity, "are very important to Neville. And to me," she added as an afterthought.
"Well if that Flutterby thing is going to be a metaphor for your great love for each other, I hope it survives," Susan said lightly. "A dead bush would be no good…"
"The plant is not a metaphor for our great love because we don't have a great love! We arefriends, nothing more!" Hannah cried.
"I would say 'methinks she doth protest too much'," Naomi stage-whispered to Susan, "but methinks she would wacketh me over the headeth with a Butterbeer bottle."
"Eth," agreed Susan.
Hannah didn't see Neville again for two weeks. She knew that this was because they were on alternate schedules: the week when she was doing the day shift at the pub was his week on nights with the Aurors, and when he switched back to days, she was on lock-up at the pub, so they kept missing each other. She also suspected it wasn't normal to know someone's schedule like that, but she chose to ignore that if only so she wouldn't have to prove her annoying best friend and even-more-annoying older sister right.
Two Wednesdays later, she was taking the bins out in the lull between lunch and dinner when he appeared, rushing to hold the door open for her as she struggled with several heavy bags of rubbish. She was wearing her oldest, grottiest uniform; she hadn't had time that morning to wash her hair and she was flushed and sweaty from a long shift in the kitchen, but for once she didn't feel self-conscious about the way she looked, just happy to see him after such a long time.
"How've you been?" he asked, as he helped her carry the bags over to the large waste disposal. He didn't make her look weak, or prance around showing off how much he could lift, he just made things easier for her in the most unobtrusive way and the gesture made her feel strangely cosy inside, like when she was tucked up in front of the fire in the Common Room with her friends at Christmastime.
She really, really needed to get a grip.
"I've been not too bad at all," she said, smiling, as they heaved the last bag into the bin. "Yourself?"
"Very busy," he said, slamming the lid shut, "but yes, can't complain. Ugh," he added involuntarily, as he caught a whiff of the stench coming from the rubbish.
"It's disgusting isn't it?" Hannah said sympathetically. "Come on, let's leave it—I'll show you the Flutterby Bushes."
Neville's face lit up. "I've been thinking about them," he said, "how has the Charm worked? Are they growing better now? Because there are other things we might try if they're not."
Hannah ignored this, and also tried to ignore the flutter in her chest at his use of "we", and rambled on about the bins as they walked around the side of the pub together. "Tom's supposed to organise someone from the Ministry to dispose of the rubbish, but he's been getting really forgetful lately, I'm a bit worried about him," she said.
"Oh?" Neville asked, concerned. "Is he okay?"
"I think so—it could just be old age, he's getting on a bit, isn't he?" Hannah said. "I'm trying to do as much as I can to make things easier for him; I'll sort the bins out this afternoon—all the glamorous jobs, right?" she laughed.
"I'm sure he really appreciates all your help," Neville said sincerely. "You really work hard here, everyone says so. I love coming here now. It's so nice and welcoming."
Hannah smiled, touched. That was the thing about Neville, he always took whatever she had to say seriously, no matter how trivial it was. He listened and cared, and she never felt like she was boring him, even when she probably was. Who wanted to talk about rubbish, for Merlin's sake?
"Ta da!" she cried, effectively changing the subject when they rounded the corner and he saw the bushes. They looked magnificent in full bloom; his charm had worked wonders to protect them from the rain and she told him so as he hurried over to inspect them.
"But this is all you!" he cried. "You must've been the one watering them and pruning them, that's the complicated stuff. I just did one spell and left them. You've a real talent, Hannah."
"Me?!" she replied. "Don't be ridiculous—this was all your idea! I'd never have thought of using the charm, and I've pretty much left them to it now. It's you who saved them."
Neville dragged his attention from the plant and looked her in the eye. "A joint effort, shall we say?"
Hannah smiled. "Something like that." He matched her grin. "You know, you should go to see Professor Sprout," she continued, just before the silence got awkward. "She invites her favourites to come up and see the greenhouses at Hogwarts whenever they'd like, and you must be one of her favourites, even if you were in the wrong house."
He wrinkled his nose at her gentle teasing. "Oh, she has," he replied, "but…" And here he trailed off, looking slightly embarassed.
"What is it?" asked Hannah.
"Well, I did go up twice, and it was so nice to see her, and the plants of course," Neville said.
"But?" Hannah prompted gently. "You're going to have to tell me, you know. I'm very stubborn. And nosy"
He grinned. "Both times, I got…accosted," he said. "Not by anyone bad," he added hastily, as she looked alarmed. "By, um. Girls." He whispered the last word as though it was something dirty, and Hannah fought the urge to laugh. "They kept coming up to me and asking me out and I had to say no, of course, but I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings—even this boy, Richard Vane, asked me out and I had to say no, and then I felt even worse because I wanted to make it clear that I don't have anything against, you know—"
"Neville," Hannah said, cutting across him, "it's okay. I understand. You're the…what is it, Hogwarts' Heartthrob?"
He made a face worse than the one when he'd smelled the bins. "Please don't," he said. "I know there are worse problems to have, but I'd really like to go and see Professor Sprout, and the plants. I'll just have to go under cover of darkness, I think. Or maybe wear a bag on my head…"
"Or," Hannah said, hoping he couldn't sense how fast her heart was suddenly beating, "we could go together, and I could be your bodyguard. And you could get to see the plants, that way, without people getting in the way."
"I'd like to see the plants," Neville said, very quickly, and there was an excruciating beat before he said, "with you."
"Good!" Hannah said. "Good. Good. That's really good."
Neville nodded several times. "Yes. Good," he agreed. "Um. Do you want—"
The door to the pub was flung open. "Did you fall into the bin?" Tom called. "There's a queue at the bar! Stop fluttering your eyelids at that idiot and come and do your job!"
Hannah flushed. "I have to—"
"I know," Neville said. "Go, I don't want you to get into trouble on my account. But I'd love to visit the plants with you. I'm sure Professor Sprout will be glad to see us. And I'll feel much, much safer with you as my bodyguard," he added, as though she wasn't a foot shorter than him. And also not an Auror.
Tom called out for again, and, flustered, she quickened her pace. At last satisfied that Hannah was on her way, he retreated, and Hannah risked turning around to call goodbye to Neville. "I'll see you soon, and we can arrange something when we're both free?" she suggested.
"What time do you finish today?" he asked, at the same time. Hannah's heart skipped a beat. Today! She wanted to walk out with him now, apparate them both up to the school or to her house or anywhere secluded and—no, wait. Was she supposed to act like she had plans, so he didn't think she was easy? But Neville wasn't like that. If he wanted to see her already, it could only be because he wanted to spend time with her.
Unless…it could genuinely be the plants. Maybe he didn't want to see her at all, maybe he genuinely did want to see the greenhouses, and leave her standing outside them looking fierce like she occasionally had to do on a Friday night at the Leaky. Maybe he—
"She's off at five thirty, you can pick her up then," Tom shouted. "And don't be late!"