Author's Note: another ficlet that I wrote ages ago that I'm just moving over to my profile.
Neville had always, in a vague, surpising way, looked forward to Potions. He thought he would learn something useful and something that would help people. This usually didn't happen during the potions lesson, but when he worked hard after the lesson on his homework, and would get help from Hermione, he would usually learn things.
But learning from Hermione was different from learning from a teacher, somehow. When Hermione explained things to him, he knew that he was getting her view on the lesson. Logically, he knew this was the case with his professors as well, but he couldn't shake the feeling that if he was able to get the knowledge during the class, it would be somewhat closer to fact of the matter, the undiluted knowledge.
Transfiguration, Divination, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and even History of Magic involved interpretation of the facts, it seemed. In Potions and Herbology, you were given, or expected to find the base knowledge of what you were doing. No dilution, no interpretation needed. You could touch what you had just learned about and it all seemed very close.
He sat back on his heels and dug a hole into the planter. He eyed it and carefully patted the plant into place and made sure the soil around it was flat.
He often bumbled through life, making his way through the twists and turns and ups and downs, not really being able to have even the vaguest idea of what was really happening. It was rather reassuring to see a plant go into soil and watch it grow and all the knowledge he needed could be found right in front of him.