Part I: When Things Went Well.

Chapter 1:

In Which Neville has Anxiety.

It was Neville's third year teaching at Hogwarts. His first year as Gryffindor Head of House. Despite his experience Neville was nervous as ever to begin the next year of school. Was it surprising? Not really.

Neville accepted the position as Herbology professor after four years of working as an auror. He would have thought that would iron out his nerves. And it did in a sense. The auror training program not only refined the senses that were already sharp from his year leading the DA, but it forced him to remain calm and clear headed in the midst of stressful situations. But after returning to Hogwarts it became abundantly clear that Neville had a two very defined sides. The intense confident leader, and the clumsy forgetful professor. Some things just couldn't change.

Neville splashed water in his face and took a look in the mirror. He looked the same as always. Round face supported by what he had once heard Ginny call a "dad bod". It was wishful thinking to hope that his years as an auror would harden his body as well. He gained muscle. There was no way to work out regularly for four years and not have strength. But Neville had a stubborn body type. He accepted a few years back that this is just who he was, but it wasn't until a conversation with Ginny Weasley that he came to truly appreciate who he is.

"Damn you, Neville!" Ginny had yelled at him after he had let out one too many self depreciating jokes. "How do you still not see who you are?" Her tone had changed to a more gentle reproach. "You have touched each one of us. You have encouraged every one of us in our times of need. You lead us when we needed someone. You… You were there. You were there when…. Well damn you Neville! You were the one that noticed something was wrong in my fourth year! You were the encouragement and reason I stopped cutting. Without your tough love and patient encouragement I don't know what could have happened."

Harry had pulled her closer at her mention of fourth year.

"She's right you know." Harry added. "You notice small things that others don't. Fifth year Ron, Mione and I were so busy running around we failed to notice the struggles Ginny was going through." Harry leaned down and kissed Ginny's head, pulling her even closer. "But you did."

"I third the notion, mate." Ron piped in. "Back in training when I couldn't get the drills straight you stuck right with me till I did. Don't think I didn't know you were only pretending to struggle to help me through."

He was right, Neville had to admit. The drills weren't that hard for him, but he knew the wound Ron's ego would take if he beat him dead. So he slowed down and walked Ron through them as though he was learning them himself.

On and on it went, Hermione took a go, Seamus gave his two cents, Dean listed off every time Neville had influenced his life for the better, and even Draco-who had taken to slyly tagging along on their outings after their auror shifts-assured Neville that he wasn't incompetent.

One conversation alone wasn't quite enough to change his outlook. But his friendship with Hannah Abbot encouraged the change all the more. He had liked her since third year. She helped him in herbology and they became partners. They had lost touch in sixth year, but rekindled their friendship when Neville ran into her one day at the Leaky Cauldron. She was a girl who genuinely liked Neville for who he was. The only problem was that Neville was convinced that she didn't like him the way he would want her to.

Looking at his face in the mirror Neville verbally reminded himself that he had successfully taught two years worth of Herbology. That if McGonagall didn't believe he would be successful she wouldn't have put him in charge. That all of his students last year received passing grades, even the worst of them scraped on by. He could do this. He could be a Professor. He could be head of house.

A few weeks into the school year Neville sat at his workbench working on his pet project. The year had been going well. He was actually quite on top of things this year, better than he had expected. He had so much free time that he began working on his research projects. The one he was most enthusiastic about, and working on at the moment, was inventing a new flower.

It would be for Hannah. It would always be for Hannah. She had been his motivation for the last few years. He prayed as he carefully painted the pearl dust over the mint rose hybrid seed he had created that this one would produce a full bloom. He had tried dozens of variations, all producing a beautiful plant with a sweet minty scent, however each plant lacked the full rose bloom that Neville was searching so desperately for. This one would be different. Surely this one with it's so carefully balanced rose thorn and mint extract combination. Neville had decided that it was no longer the seed that was imbalanced, but the pot it was planted in. He tried different soils and fertilizer mixes. This time he decided that planting the seed on a full moon on a moonstone covered in fresh soil mixed with pearl dust would surely derive the most magical bloom he could imagine. At least, that was his hope.

Neville's thoughts were interrupted just as he was placing his planted seed in full view of the moon by a fourth year bursting into the greenhouse.

"Professor Longbottom, sir!" The boy screeched trying to catch his breath as he had seemed to run all the way from the castle. "Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office right away! There has been an accident!"

Neville went right into auror mode, all of his senses heightened. He grabbed his sweater off of it's hook not noticing the full bottle of Essence of Dittany he knocked into his precious potential plant.

"What is it? Who it it? Tell me all you know!" Neville sped out the door of the greenhouse and jogged up to the castle his young student close behind.

"It's Professor Slughorn sir!" the young hufflepuff gasped between breaths. "He's had an accident in the middle of his class. He has been in the infirmary all day and has been insisting to his students that he will never recover entirely!"

Neville took in this information just as they reached the great hall. He dismissed the student and tried to slow his heart rate the rest of the walk to the headmistresses office. He would be no good to McGonagall breathless and dishevelled.

By the time he reached her office he was as put together as he ever would be. He noticed just as it was too late that his hands were still covered in dirt meaning that his forehead was likely also littered with soil.

"Longbottom, I'm so thrilled you could join us." McGonagall had a talent for speaking kind words in the sharpest ways imaginable. Neville had to remind himself that he was her peer and not her student.

"Sorry for my delay, I believe young Bones was distracted on his task to fetch me."

"No matter, take a seat." McGonagall waved to an open seat near her desk which Neville sat in.

As he looked around he noticed that most of the other professors were also gathered in the room, including Ernie MacMillan. Ernie taught DADA and was Hufflepuff Head of House as well. Neville noticed a slight sneer on his face as he scanned the room. He tried his best to get along with Ernie. But Ernie had an aura around him that seethed with a superiority complex that was hard to get past. As polite as Neville was, Ernie seemed to always have a way to remind Neville that he was an idiot.

"As many of you have heard," Minerva's words interrupting Nevile's thoughts, "Horace has had a stroke. He is resting currently in the infirmary and will soon be transferred to St. Mungos. He is physically well, but only further testing will determine how much damage has been done to his mind. He has taken to repeating words and sentences in a fretful manner that scared many of the other's in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey has had to place a silencing spell over his cot."

"What will we do about Potions, Minerva?" Flitwick broke in.

"I was getting to that. Don't interrupt me Filius. Horace was already planning to retire at the end of this school year and we had already lined up his replacement. I have owled to see if they would be willing to temporarily step into the role immediately while we asses the extent of Horace's condition."

At this Ernie MacMillan spoke up, "Who will that be, Professor?"

"I believe you know her, she was in yours and Longbottom's year."

At these words the hair on the back of Neville's neck stood on end as chills ran up and down his spine.

"Pansy Parkinson."

A/N:

Hey ya'll. Truth be told I haven't written in years. So this is stretching some stale muscles, bear with me! That being said, please review my work. Let me know what needs improving. Reviews encourage me to keep it up, thank you all!