Neville's Greenhouse Gases by Quantum-Suicide
This was a plot-bunny I had rolling about and I just decided to write it. It's not very long and isn't to be taken seriously, at all!
It's rated 'T' purely for language as anything else is purely implied.
I should also add here that Harry and Neville are in no way romantically linked in this story, so if that was what you were hoping for, you're probably going to be disappointed.
That said, enjoy!
The pointed steel hands on the clock-face of Harry's magical timepiece had been pointing at 'too-fucking-late/early-for-you-to-be-out-of-bed' for an indefinite amount of time – a clear indicator that the scruffy young man was out on the chilly grounds of Hogwarts way past curfew.
Another indicator, for anyone taking note, was the fact that he was safely under his father's invisibility cloak and was still glancing around himself with an almost Mad-Eye Moody-esque paranoia. The other boy also huddled under the cloak's shimmering fabric with him, however, seemed to be taking this situation well within his stride; his pace was that of a jovial stroll through Hogsmeade, rather than a very illegal – in terms of Hogwarts' law – trip to the greenhouses, hours after their curfew had set in.
"Err, Neville..."
Even squawking those two short words – though Harry had convinced himself he did nothing of the sort – had taken much of Harry's courage. Sure, he could face Voldemort and his Death Eaters, battle a Basilisk head-on, and even, on occasion, still go up against Hermione academically – his scrotum always firmly cupped, of course. The thought of breaking the school-rules and having to answer to both Snape and McGonagall while Dumbledore was away, however, chilled him right to his core. He hadn't forgotten last year's dungbomb fiasco in the dungeons and wasn't in any hurry to be at the business end of Snape's wand any time soon; his behind still chafed sometimes with the phantom memory of the incident.
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" he whispered slowly, casting the area around them with surreptitious glances as he tried to hurry his pace; an act made all the more difficult due to the fact that Neville seemed to enjoy walking at his own relaxed pace, rather than matching Harry's panicked walk-jog.
"Relax, Harry, I do this all the time and I've never once been caught." Neville turned his face slightly to Harry's and watched as the words sunk in.
"Honestly", he added with a hint of a grin.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy beside him and took in the expression painted on his pointed, adolescent face. A lot had changed about Neville since their first few years at Hogwarts; gone was the puppy fat and in its place stood a tall boy of average build who had finally grown into his large frame. His face had thinned out considerably and, although he was now a healthy young man, the shadows beneath his eyes had never fully left - the lasting vestige of the 'Final Battle'.
Harry wondered if maybe that was the reason why Neville had grown his hair out of its military style and allowed it to fall haphazardly around his eyes. His hair was now similar to Harry's, only his was intentional and warranted female attention, whereas Harry's was unintentional and the only attention he ever got for it was from Ron's decidedly self-important magical mirror. He scowled as he tried to muss his hair up like Neville's.
Harry sighed and slowed his footsteps slightly. It wasn't as though he could just turn back to the Gryffindor Tower now, anyway; if he got caught making his way back to the dorm rooms, this would have all been for nothing. He may as well just see whatever it was Neville said he needed to show him and worry about what would happen after that when they crossed that bridge later on - why they had to wait until precisely three forty-three am on the night of a full-moon, however, was beyond him.
The boys, ne young men, were approaching the block of greenhouses now; the glass panes on the looming buildings glittering almost majestically in the faint light cast by the moon. It wasn't hard to see why Neville enjoyed these trips to the greenhouses now; it was beautifully peaceful here. Any and all sounds seemed to have been left behind at the concrete steps leading to the area – a spell by Professor Sprout, no doubt, to keep the plants inside the structures from being disturbed by the outside wildlife.
Neville tapped his wand gently on the padlock on the door of the greenhouse closest to them and motioned for Harry to turn his back and cover his ears. Harry rolled his eyes at the ridiculous security precautions, but still obeyed.
He focused, instead, on the Great Lake and noticed a large tentacle hanging from a branch of the – literally – weeping willow nearby – the squid sure had some odd sleeping habits, he noted bemusedly. He dimly wondered if an inter-species relationship between the squid and the plant would even work out, though he was sure stranger things had happened. He made a mental note to ask Hagrid about it when this was all over.
Quite abruptly, he was pulled backwards through the greenhouse door just before Neville slammed it shut with more force than harry thought was really necessary. He turned around, his mouth opening to say just that, when Neville threw his arm around Harry's neck and hastily covered his mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping. Harry made a choking noise at the back of his throat and, thoroughly bewildered, he could only watch with wide eyes as Neville pulled him along the side of the greenhouse in an awkward two-man shuffle – the arm still over Harry's mouth was somewhat strangling him in the process. It also didn't help Harry's sanity that the gloves Neville was wearing smelt far worse than anything living in a dormitory with four other boys for more than six years had exposed him to.
He was inches away from spewing all over Neville's arm, though the other boy hardly seemed to notice. Instead, he was engrossed with systematically going over each window pane in the greenhouse with a small tap, smiling briefly after each one. Harry didn't have the heart to point out that whatever spells he was performing seemed to have no effect on the windows at all. Once they had finally reached the entrance of the greenhouse again, Neville let go of the chokehold he'd had over Harry and adopted a slightly abashed expression as the other boy stumbled to regain his balance, a glare plastered over his face.
"Sorry, Professor Sprout monitors the greenhouses from her office and I couldn't risk you setting off any of the alarms", he looked at Harry and shrugged, "I've adjusted them now, so it shouldn't be a problem".
He took off his hat and gloves and settled himself in one of the wooden benches in the corner of the greenhouse. He looked up at Harry and indicated for him to join him on the bench. The other boy made no move to join him and, instead, continued to glare.
"You've altered them, how, exactly?" Harry gestured at the windows, "I didn't notice any difference. Also, what in Great Morgana's tits have you been doing in those gloves? They absolutely reek!"
"Ahh, but, Harry, that would be telling," Neville smiled lazily and motioned again for Harry to join him on the bench.
Harry wasn't sure which bit of his question Neville was answering, but decided he didn't really want to know, either way. He watched as Neville bent over and pulled out a suede satchel which Harry hadn't even realised he had been carrying. He then proceeded to take out an impossibly sharp ceremonial-looking dagger, a cream coloured tile of about six inches by six inches, thin strips of flimsy paper which Harry could only compare to very thin baking parchment, an Albus Dumbledore card from a Chocolate Frogs pack and a strange blue, plastic-y looking thing of which Harry couldn't even begin to guess the function.
Feeling slightly uneasy, Harry stepped closer to Neville and perched on the edge of the bench furthest away from the dagger. He watched curiously as the boy just a day older than himself pulled out his wand and popped the strange plastic-y thing onto the end of it.
Neville looked at Harry and smirked, "Incendio."
He then watched as Harry's expression turn from one of skeptical curiosity, to that of unadulterated awe; the spell which usually conjured a thick burst of orange fire had been contained in the blue box at the end of Neville's wand and was letting off a small, gentle flame – not unlike the flame a muggle lighter would produce – with a purply/bluish hue.
"This, Harry," indicating the item on the end of his wand, "is called a 'Manager'. It can only be found in certain ...specialist stores. It's for when the time calls for a less intrusive flame and a more gentle and precise flame. Don't mistake the calm nature of the flame to fool you; though it is less rapid and more manageable than before, it's still fucking hot."
He pointed to a shiny scar on the tip of his left index finger and shook his head with a sad expression, "the young me was playing around with it and I nearly lopped the whole thing right off."
He waved his wand to dissipate the flame and got up from the bench. He gathered his items and moved into the centre of the greenhouse, almost lost among the foliage of the various greenery.
He turned back to Harry, body and face half hidden in the shadows, a sense of foreboding excitement crackling in the air around him.
"Now, Harry, I'm trusting you with my most sacred ritual. It is necessary for people to be able escape the numerous constraints society has imposed upon us – you of all people should understand this."
He motioned with his arm, "should you follow me through to the back of the greenhouse, I will educate you in the ways of Herbology that one can only dream of being privy to. Are you ready to escape, Harry? Are you ready to open your mind to new sense of magic; to a whole new understanding of the world around us? Tell me, Harry; are you ready for this degree in Herbological Enhancement?"
He turned around and walked slowly back into the foliage, "follow me, Harry. Let us meet your destiny."
Harry was almost tripping over his own feet in excitement as he raced to join Neville into the jungle before him. He wasn't a hundred percent sure what they were going to be doing, or even how Neville proposed to 'educated' him when Snape was continuously prattling on about how Harry was un-teachable, but, regardless of it all, he was more than willing to follow Neville into the dark. If nothing else, he had at least put to rest any doubt he had in his mind that Neville and Luna weren't anything but perfect for each other.
Following Neville into the multitude of plant-life, Harry was more than ready to meet his destiny via Herbological enhancements. Let the education begin!
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