DISCLAIMER: I am not profiting from this story in any way, and only the plot is mine in the first place.
POST DATE: September 24, 2007
CHAPTER 1
As the beam of sunlight slowly inched its way up his face, making its inevitably annoying way towards his eyes, Neville Longbottom was blissfully unaware that he only had precious minutes left before an abrupt end would be called to his peaceful slumber. Eventually, the heat and brightness upon his eyelids forcing him awake, Neville opened his eyes and then quickly shut them, wondering for what seemed like the millionth time why exactly the cruel joke of dilated pupils first-thing in the morning was set upon man.
Finally feeling the removal of the daggers from his retinas, Neville once again tried his luck at raising his eyelids, having only marginal success. Moving so that his head was no longer being assaulted by the sun, Neville stretched languidly, as his mind and senses slowly arose with the rest of his body. As he did most mornings, Neville thought over his morning conundrum, still unable to decide which position he preferred. While he greatly appreciated being able to sleep until the sun should choose to awaken him, he held equal love for the early morning awakenings of fall, winter and spring, as they would mean that he once again had students to teach the fine art of herbology. His mind taking an unintentional trip twenty years in the past, Neville quickly remembered how lucky he was to be presented with such a light-hearted set of circumstances.
Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Neville turned his gaze upon his combination calendar/wall clock (which, to the muggle eye, would look nothing like either, but rather a bit of non-informative star chart that, upon closer inspection, appeared to have moving stars and planets), and saw that it was just after eight o'clock in the morning. Deciding that he had wasted enough time for one morning, Neville removed himself from his covers and set about his morning activities.
After a much needed trip to the loo, Neville quickly made his way to the door connecting his one-room living quarters with Hogwarts greenhouse four. While he would have to be dressed in order to tend to the other greenhouses, he took about caring for the plants in this greenhouse wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. While most would no doubt find his antics strange, Neville greatly appreciated his early morning, near-naked, plant care chores. Somehow, putting himself into this situation made him feel closer to the nature he so graciously surrounded himself with on a day-by-day basis. He had often considered ditching even the boxers, but that seemed a bit much. What if someone were to just…walk in?
Having finished with this greenhouse, Neville quickly got dressed in a drab, gray, muggle sweat suit and a pair of worn muggle athletic trainers, before tending to his other responsibilities pertaining to the plant life of Hogwarts. He quickly made his way through his chores, greatly anticipating his most favorite of daily activities.
In the seven years (Merlin, has it been that long already?) that Neville has been teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rarely had a morning passed that he had not traveled the roughly five-kilometer-long shoreline of the lake nearby. In his first five years, Neville had paced the trip at a slow jog, however, these last two years Neville's knees had deteriorated to the point that even Poppy Pomfrey's pain potions would not ease his discomfort, so he had resigned himself to a brisk walk. While he had offered on numerous occasions for his fellow professors to accompany him, Neville was secretly very pleased that none would accept, as he took great pleasure in the solitude with nature that these walks afforded. The grounds around the lake harbored possibly the most diverse amount of wild magical plant life in all of Great Britain. While he loved his domesticated plants back in the greenhouses, for Neville, there was just something about seeing a plant growing, no, thriving in the wild that reminded him why Herbology was his life's passion in the first place.
Gazing out upon the lake's flat surface and feeling the faint breeze upon his face, Neville could tell that today was going to be yet another astonishingly wonderful summer day. This year's summer had been unconventionally cool, allowing for some incredibly gorgeous days. Suddenly, the surface of the water broke roughly ten meters from where Neville had stopped to study the health of a small shrub, and a set of familiar tentacles rose from the depths of the lake. While most would have been startled by this, Neville merely shrugged and searched the ground, until his eyes rested upon a particularly fat and tasty looking (well, at least for a squid) water slug. Scrunching up his sleeve and gripping the slug firmly, he drew back and hurled the book-sized creature at the tentacles, which gracefully clipped the slug from mid-air. He wasn't sure, but Neville could have sworn he saw one of the squid's tentacles give him a short wave before settling back into the water.
Having finished his walk around the lake, Neville returned to his quarters to take a quick shower, and was surprised to find a medium sized, brown and white speckled owl waiting for him on his writing desk. Knowing who the owner of the owl was, the surprise was not who was sending him any correspondence, but rather why. He was certainly not expecting anything from his boss.
Untying the small piece of parchment from the owl, he fed it some treats before sending it on its way. He then opened the folded letter and began to read:
Professor Longbottom,
I am requesting your presence today to have lunch in my office so that I may discuss a few…extra duties that I wish for you to take on this year. Please be in mind that what I will be propositioning will only be optional on your part, not mandatory. Lunch will be served promptly at twelve noon. Thank you in advance Neville,
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
'Extra duties? What could that mean?' he asked himself. 'No matter, I guess I'll just have to figure out when I get there.' Taking the parchment and feeding it to one of his many wood-pulp eating plants, Neville glanced at his watch, seeing that it was only 10:30. Figuring that he had plenty of time before lunch to start preparing many of his lesson plans for the coming school year, Neville pulled out the handy work planner Hermione had gotten him for Christmas three years ago (though Ron had made considerable fun of this gift, Neville had gone out of his way to make sure Hermione was aware that it was, in fact, one of the more useful gifts he had ever received.) and started writing.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in, Neville," came McGonagall's stern sounding reply through the heavy wood door.
"Hello, Professor, and thank you for inviting me to lunch." As he passed through the doorway, Neville smirked at the fact that even now, after all these years, the office still seemed strangely empty without all of Professor's many strange gadgets and detectors.
"Neville, please, I have asked you repeatedly since you became a professor here to refer to me as Minerva. You seem to have no problem calling other faculty members by their first names, why not me?" McGonagall questioned, with a slightly raised left eyebrow.
"Sorry Prof…er, Minerva, it's just difficult for me to be on such a personal basis with my former head of house."
"No matter, I just hope that someday, preferably before I die, you are comfortable enough to do so. Yes, I was your head of house, but might I remind you that that is a house you are now head of."
"Indeed, Minerva, I will make more of an effort in the future."
As Neville said this, an old, muggle, grandfather style clock to his right began to chime the time as having reached twelve o'clock. At the ringing of the last chime, Neville was slightly startled as a house elf "popped" into the room carrying two covered platters. Setting the platters on the Headmistress' desk, the tea-towel wearing elf then removed the covers to reveal sandwiches, sliced apples and a carafe of pumpkin juice set with a cooling charm. Turning to McGonagall and bowing, the elf asking in a squeaky voice, "Will there be anything else, master?"
"No, thank you, Blinky. That will be all."
"Of course, master" the elf replied, bowing once again before turning and bowing to Neville as well. Then, with a slight pop, the elf disapparated, most likely going back to the kitchens.
"They always startle me when they apparate in like that" McGonagall stated.
Forming a slight smirk, Neville retorted, "You just better make sure Hermione Weasley doesn't hear about you having an elf serve you in your office, or you may end up being more than startled."
Staring at each other for a few seconds, the pair broke out into peeling laughter that lasted a short while.
Catching her breath, McGonagall said, "Believe me, the last thing I want is to have her breathing down my neck about the Hogwarts elves. Right tenacious, that one. I've already forced wages on all of the elves here, although truth be told, not a one of them is happy about it. But I'll be damned if I'll ever tell her that." They laughed again, as they both silently agreed that that would be a very foolish thing to do.
"Speaking of the Weasley's, Neville, I know you keep in touch with them, how are they these days?"
"Oh, same as usual, I suppose. Ron's still working as an aurer, while Hermione's still working in the Department of Regulation for Magical Creatures, forever fighting the good fight with regards to magical creatures' rights. Ron still drives Hermione crazy, she still loves it, although she'd never admit to it. Right now, they and the Potter's are just excited because Rose and Albus will be starting school this year. Little Rosie is so excited she can barely talk half the time, while Albus seems to be taking it more…nervously." Neville chuckled as he thought of the soft spoken boy, clearly more like his father in terms of personality.
"Merlin, how strange is it to hear that name again?" responded McGonagall's soft Scottish accent, with a far away look on her face.
"Tell me about it. Anyway, Rose and Albus couldn't be more different in personality, but Merlin, Minerva, you leave those two alone together, and you'll be checking for everything you own to make sure it doesn't blow up in your face. Al may be soft spoken, but Rosie definitely has picked up some of her Uncle George's pranking tendencies, and she's already adopted Al as her partner in crime."
Smiling, McGonagall asked, "And what about George Weasley? Do we have anything more to worry about this year?"
"Sorry, I wouldn't know, George won't share any of his new stuff with me, says that would be 'sleeping with the enemy'. I can tell you, though, that he just opened a new Wheezes shop in Paris, officially making the jump to the continent. That makes twenty stores open now, not including all the mail-order business they do."
"Good, let Beauxbatons get a taste of what we've been living with for the past twenty-two years." McGonagall spat, although she had a mirthful twinkle in her eye.
"Harry and Ginny are still doing the same, Ginny's still working at St. Mungo's , and Harry's still taking care of the kids. Personally, I think he just likes being out of the limelight, but I wouldn't know for sure."
"Well, Neville, I suppose I should get down to business," McGonagall stated, picking up a sandwich from the tray and pouring both of them a glass of pumpkin juice. "I have asked you hear today to share with you a piece of information that, until the start of term, I wish to remain secret among the other Hogwarts instructors. You see, I have been looking at my life lately, and I have realized that I am definitely not getting any younger." At this, McGonagall had to wave Neville down as he started to protest. "Please, Neville, as much as you flatter me, we both know it to be true."
Sitting back, Neville took a good look at his former professor for the first time, and he realized that she was probably more correct than he wanted to believe. Her formerly auburn hair was now completely grey, and the bags under her eyes had definitely increased in size. Also, her spine had curved slightly, so that she now stood with a slight hunch to her back, and she had to walk with a cane, due to arthritis in her hip. Indeed, though he may not want to openly admit it, Minerva McGonagall was definitely showing her age.
Continuing on, McGonagall stated, "I've decided that I wish to do some traveling before my body gets too old to do so, therefore, I've made the decision to retire, effective next year. While she does not know it, I've decided to recommend, and the board of reviewers have accepted my recommendation, Professor Morrissey for the post left vacant with my retirement. This is where you come in. As the Transfiguration instructor position is opening with Professor Morrissey's advancement, I have already taken the liberty of hiring a new professor, one of my favorite former students, who will be here at the start of term. In fact, you actually know her quite well, seeing as she was not only in your year here at school, but was indeed in your house." With this, McGonagall stopped, placing a slight smirk on her face, clearly wishing for Neville to guess as to the mystery professor's identity.
Only one name came to mind, but the idea confused Neville. "Uh, Professor, as much as I'm sure she'll be thrilled at your recommendation, I'm not sure Hermione would leave her position in the ministry."
Unable to control her mirth, McGonagall began laughing, finally subsiding enough that she could counter Neville's statement. "No, no, Neville, while Hermione was indeed one of my favorite former students, I was actually referring to Ms. Lavender Brown."
Stunned, Neville was stilled for a moment, before finally coming to his senses. "Wow, there's a name I haven't heard before, although I thought it was no longer Miss Brown, but rather, Mrs. Johanesson?"
"Well, that is not my place to discuss," McGonagall said, rather sternly. "At any rate, I have asked for your assistance, because I wish for you to act as a sort of mentor for Ms. Brown, as she will be unable to arrive at the school before the students. I wish for you to…take her under your wing, so to speak. While Professor Morrissey will take full responsibilities in terms of showing her the ropes in the classroom, Ms. Brown will need someone to help her become more comfortable in this environment, as a teacher, rather than a student. Can I count on you, Neville?"
Without hesitation, Neville replied, "Absolutely, professor, of course. I'd be happy to help, and I get the bonus of getting to hang out with one of my old friends, as well. This should be fun!"
"Thank you, Neville, I was hoping you'd say that."
"Professor, I just was wondering one more thing. I know you said you wanted to keep this quiet; however I am having dinner with the Potters and the Weasleys this coming Sunday, and I was just wondering if I might be able to tell them," Neville questioned.
Giving him a piercing glare, McGonagall finally shot back, "I suppose that would be acceptable, Neville, however I must stress to you once again that I wish for this to remain secret to the professors here. You must make sure that they understand that they are to pass this information along to NO ONE. Is that understood, Mr. Longbottom?"
Hearing his surname, Neville became suddenly nervous, feeling an all too familiar sensation of being scolded by this stern witch. "Absolutely, Prof, er, Minerva. I'll make sure they understand before I tell them."
"Good. Now that business is out of the way, please continue on informing me of the goings-on outside these walls."
Continuing with small talk, their lunch lasted another twenty minutes, until Neville politely excused himself so that he could continue with his lesson planning. As Neville was opening the door to the office, McGonagall called his attention one last time. "Oh, Neville, by the way, though it is the duty of the incoming headmistress to name a deputy, it is my full intention to offer you as my recommendation for the post. I do not see her having any problem with my recommendation, as she has always appreciated your work here. Do you foresee having any problem fulfilling that position?"
Stunned at this new bit of information, Neville turned slightly pink as he replied, "N-no, Professor, er, I mean Mi-Minerva, I wouldn't have any problem at all. Thank you. Thank you very much!" Then, adding as an afterthought, "Oh, and just so you know, you will be greatly missed."
With a slight smile and a wave over her hand, McGonagall sent him away. "Very well, thank you and good day, Neville, and I'll see you around the grounds, I'm sure."
Quickly exiting the office, Neville could barely contain his glee at his potential advancement. Sprinting down the hallways, he was at a loss as to how to keep this information to himself, and he found himself hoping for Sunday to arrive just a bit sooner.
A/N: Well, here it is, my first chapter of my first ever fan fic. I have always thought that out of all of Jo's characters, these two have received the shaft the most. With Neville, it's easy to see, but I'm sure many of you out there are questioning my meaning with regards to Lavender. Well, really, what was her crime? I mean, she has been severely vilified in most of the fan fics I have read, and for what, going out with Ron for part of sixth year? I mean, don't get me wrong, I am a huge Ron/Hermione shipper, but I just can't see treating Lavender the way most authors do. As for Neville, well, how come everybody in the book finds love but him? I mean, Neville needs some lovin' too, right? Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, and please review, not only to tell me what you think, but also to offer any suggestions, if you have any. I am a very open minded author, so I won't hesitate to use someone's idea if I like it.
Hey, by the way, I would very much like to have a beta, so if anybody out there is interested, let me know. Thanks.
Oh, last thing, this chapter turned out much longer than I had planned it, so future chaps might not be as long. Then again, as long-winded as I am, they may be longer!!
Cheers!!