Mimbulus Mimbletonia- or how Neville finally got his girl

Summary: Neville/Hannah one-shot. My first Neville story! Set in the 7th year and following the Battle of Hogwarts. DH spoilers. Fluff and humour.

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to JK Rowling; I just like to play with them occasionally.

Rating: K+

Neville's Great Uncle Algie had once pushed him out of a window. "Accidentally" of course, or so he claimed, but the Longbottom family had been simply thrilled when the petrified eight year old immediately bounced back up high into the air. Whether they were thrilled because they were relieved he had suffered no injury, or be it just because they now knew he wasn't a squib, Neville was still wasn't honestly sure.

Algie had also pushed him off the end of Blackpool Pier once and into the freezing Irish Sea, when he was just a toddler nonetheless. Neville still didn't like his bathtubs to be overly full, even to this very day, so it was hardly surprising he was suspicious the day Algie proudly handed him a dark green, overly stinky plant, set in a bright red flowerpot.

"Er... thanks Uncle Algie," fifteen-year-old Neville said uncertainly as he set the pot down on the table, his brow furrowing as he studied the bumps on the squat, bulbous stem with some scepticism. He was pleased by the thought of the gift; seemingly his uncle knew of his fondness for Herbology- perhaps he'd been speaking to his gran about Neville's studies at Hogwarts. Sure enough, curiosity at the oddly shaped plant took over and Neville leaned closer to the table, eyeing it fascinated. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a plant like this before, even in the greenhouses at school, and Professor Sprout certainly had a ton of weird fauna growing in there.

"What does this—" he prodded at one of the lumps on the outer leaves cautiously, only to have it instantly burst open with dark green liquid, showering him and causing him to halt midsentence. Dark green disgusting smelling liquid that now dripped down Neville's highly displeased face. It reminded him of rotting eggs and mouldy gilyweed.

"Urgh…" he mumbled, pulling out his handkerchief in disgust and wrinkling his noise at the now even more foul stench; "what in Merlin's name is that?"

"Stinksap," Uncle Algie looked highly delighted at the plant's defence mechanism; "marvellous isn't it?"

"That's one word for it…" Neville muttered darkly as he wiped at his face, but he was now intrigued, despite himself. The only plant he'd ever seen fight back was Devil's Snare, but this little shrub was so much smaller than that.

"Don't worry Nev, it isn't poisonous," Uncle Algie chortled merrily, seeing how his nephew hurriedly scrubbed at his stained cheeks.

"What is it?"

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Algie replied with a beam. "From Assyria."

"Brilliant…" Neville was careful not to touch the protruding lumps, which he now knew were boils, as he gently ran his finger over the edge of the slightly curling emerald leaves. This time no dark green pus spewed forth to soak him and Algie looked satisfied by the plant's milder temperament.

"You certainly have green fingers, Nev," he praised admiringly.

"Can it survive in the British climate?" Neville asked, looking worried now as he regarded his uncle, though gratified by the unexpected praise.

"With proper care and attention it can survive just like any other plant," Algie replied, studying his nephew intently, "and I believe that if you look after it, one day it will return the favour in kind."

Neville was only half-listening now, all his attention firmly absorbed on the leaves- but saying that a plant could 'return a favour' seemed like a bit of an odd thing to say. Then again, he'd always thought his uncle just a little bit batty. Who in their right mind would chuck a kid off the end of a pier after all?

Two years later…

Neville raised his head and glanced happily around the brightly lit greenhouse, where he was gently tending to a cutting of baby Venomous Tentacula, left in his care by Professor Sprout. He'd been cultivating the plants for hours. It gave him something sane to hold onto in what was turning out to be a turbulent final year for him at Hogwarts.

He knew the useful properties of the tentacula, despite the plants somewhat malicious troublesome reputation, and like all plants, knew that if the person tending to them remained placid, then so would the shrub. This one was just a baby however, its bite still remained free from poison and its spikes were like those of a baby hedgehog, though it still incited cursing should you be foolish enough to get caught in one of its mobile vines. Neville enjoyed working with the juvenile tentacula though, and was so used to handling them that he rarely even wore gloves anymore.

Today however, would be one such day when he wished he had, if not for anything other than to prevent the flow of curses that would escape his mouth later on.

The initial cause of his problem began with one Hannah Abbot, who suddenly appeared in the greenhouse, just before the bell rang for tea. She seemed out of breath from running, and as she shut the glass door, he thought he heard her mutter; "bloody Carrows," between pants, and then duck cautiously behind a huge flutterby bush. Neville raised his eyebrows curiously.

He too liked to avoid the nasty brother and sister teacher duo as much as possible, particularly given the onus that seemed to fall upon him as a suspected member of the rebelious 'Dumbledore's Army,' but he knew it must be pretty bad for Hannah to run in the greenhouse to get away from the very sight of them. As far as he was aware, no one even suspected Hannah was in the DA at all.

He watched Hannah as she carried on peeping through the glass, unaware of his gaze. He saw the Hufflepuff's shoulders visibly sag with relief as whoever was trying to find her, obviously got fed up and left. He swallowed a little bit nervously before he spoke.

"Hello Hannah."

"Merlin!" Hannah jumped, startled, her eyes wide with fright as she clutched her heart. When she saw him tending to the plants, she relaxed. "Oh Neville… gods, you startled me."

He felt his face reddening; "sorry."

"That's alright," Hannah said quickly as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ears, flustered, "I'm just glad it's you and not... one of them." She said 'them' in an ominous voice, her blue eyes darkening considerably.

"The Carrow's?" he prompted as he added some soil to the tray and the vines waved up at him. In his concern for her, he forgot to be shy and he didn't babble or hunch his shoulders, looking down at his toes like he usually did. He stood tall and met her eyes squarely, giving him considerable height and a dignified posture.

Hannah nodded seriously. "They—they're flinging the cruciatus curse around like its detention!" she said helplessly, sinking onto one of the wooden stools opposite him. "It's scary!"

Neville nodded grimly in empathy, "another DA meeting tonight I think," he said decisively, "I'll get Ginny to activate the galleons after tea. She's been working hard on the bat bogey hex, maybe she can teach it to us, and we still need to do a bit more on the patronuses for when Harry comes back."

Hannah was watching him curiously; "do—have you heard anything from Harry at all?" she asked hopefully. She, like all of the students at Hogwarts was clinging onto the knowledge that Harry Potter was the savior of the wizarding world, but Neville, like everyone else, knew absolutely nothing since his friend had gone into hiding over the summer holidays. These past couple of months back at school had been really weird without he, Ron and Hermione and truth be told, Neville felt a bit lonely. The next few terms until graduation seemed to stretch out endlessly before him, if he made it that long, that was.

"No," he confessed gloomily, "sorry. I do know that whatever he's doing though, he's still a member of Dumbledore's Army, now more than ever. He needs us and we need him."

Hannah brightened at his words, "I thought so. We all have faith in him you know."

Now Neville was the one feeling better. "Me too…"

Hannah hopped off the stool and smiled at him shyly before heading to the door. "Thanks Neville. I feel much better for talking to you."

Only now did Neville blush slightly. In doing so, he completely lost his trail of thought and concentration. To his chagrin, he felt one of the tentacula's vines curl around his fingertips, and--

"Merlin's big hairy balls!" Neville blurted, physically unable to stop himself as the plant slid its tiny vines around its fingertips, gripping them tightly, inciting the first of what were many swearwords to come, he realised with a sense of impending desperation.

To his horror, Hannah turned around in the doorway, looking stunned, her ponytail almost slapping her in the face, she spun so quickly. "What did you say, Neville?" she asked him faintly, her eyes wide.

"I said-- nothing--Lucifer's big scrotum sack!" Neville flushed a hot scarlet as he was unable to prevent the curse from escaping his lips. With his free hand, he clamped a hand to his mouth, muffling the next lot of swearwords that were threatening to break free, his eyes panicked, as with his other hand; he pulled desperately at the vines, trying to free himself. Juvenile my foot! This thing is as strong as a hippogriff! he thought anxiously, not daring to look at the girl in front of him and feeling like a complete and utter fool.

Hannah was eyeing him in disbelief and the next second, to his utter astonishment she snorted with laughter. She eyed the vines curling around Neville's fingers and tentatively stepped closer; "do you—I mean, would you like a hand?" she offered, unable to stop the smile from creeping over her face.

Neville breathed a sigh of relief; "that would be--Hades on a burning broomstick!" he bit his lip and eyed Hannah apologetically once more as he spoke in a small voice; "I mean, er… yes please."

Ten minutes later, when Professor Sprout came back into the greenhouse dragging a sack of bound and gagged mandrakes, she found to her astonishment, two seventh-year students swearing their heads off, their fingers tightly locked together by tentacula vines. For years afterwards, she would always wonder whether or not that plant had actually known what it was doing, and the sweet pink blush that spread across both students faces when she saw them would be firmly imprinted upon her mind.

Ten months later…

The war had been over now for almost two days and the world was starting to look a brighter place once more. Voldemort had been defeated and whilst everyone mourned the courageous dead and prayed for the wounded, hope flourished. It bloomed in abundance, an unstoppable force.

The sun was just setting over the craggy hills as Neville trudged down to the greenhouse, carrying the straggling remains of the venomous tentacula plants he'd recovered in a carefully-balanced water-filled tray. They'd been bloody amazing in the battle, strangling death eaters and whatnot. Neville smiled sadly, flinching in memory of the horrific battle as he pushed open the shattered greenhouse door. Like most of the rest of the school, the greenhouse had came out of the war badly, it was almost destroyed, but Neville and Professor Sprout were determined to get it back to its rightful state one-day, once everything settled down once more.

Neville entered the falling down greenhouse and set down the tray, looking around him at the torn shrubs and bushes with regret. Almost everything was gone. Miraculously, the only fully intact plant inside the greenhouse seemed to be the Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which had been stored on a precariously high shelf and had somehow escaped the jinxes and curses that had been tossed at the rest of the glass building. Neville eyed it with some bemusement as he reached up and lifted the now-heavy plant down from the shelf. The plant crooned almost fearfully as Neville carefully stroked the leaves, but then seemed to calm down. It had begun making odd noises ever since it had flowered for the first time, but Neville was used to them by now.

"I'm glad you're alright," Neville told it quietly. He'd always been cautious when talking to plants, Uncle Algie did it, and he'd initially thought it a bit nutty, but with the Mimbletonia, talking to it seemed to help. Soon enough, it was quiet once more.

Neville turned then, hearing footsteps and somehow wasn't surprised to see Hannah Abbot entering the greenhouse, looking around herself cautiously. She seemed crestfallen to see all the damage, as her eyes met his.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, looking down at the plant.

"Missionary work," Neville replied with a wry smile, "the plant was a bit upset, so I was talking to it." With anyone else, he would have felt stupid admitting that out loud, but not with Hannah. She was the one girl he didn't get tongue-tied around, but he wished he didn't always forget his trail of thought when he looked at her.

"It's… lovely," Hannah said dubiously, eyeing the large plant, covered in visibly full boils and wrinkling her nose at the evident pong emitting from the leaves.

Neville smirked, "it's alright, it's not attractive to look at, even I know that. My uncle gave me this plant nearly three years ago. He told me to look after it and one day it would return the favour…"

Hannah eyed him quizzically, "what a funny thing to say."

Neville nodded in agreement, "I found out the plants properties though- it's supposed to be able to cure shyness, timidity and nervousness…" his expression was rueful, "I imagine my Uncle wanted to help me."

Hannah met his eyes, incredulous; "Neville… you aren't timid!" she protested, "not at all!"

"I'm--"

"Bloody brilliant!" Hannah said hotly, cutting him off, "you killed the snake, you saved us! You've been leading Dumbledore's Army underground for months! You're just as much of a hero as Harry Potter, everyone knows it!"

Neville gaped at her in disbelief, unable to believe how she'd instantly jumped to his defense like that. "Oh… right," he said, wringing his hands a little, doubtfully.

Hannah plunged on heedlessly, "and so what if you are a bit shy? I think that's a good thing."

"Y—you do?" he stammered.

"Yes I do," Hannah said firmly, acting rather fierce for a Hufflepuff, but Neville was too stunned by her protestations to care; "I bloody well do!" With those words, she leaned over and kissed one very shocked Neville Longbottom squarely on the mouth.

When she pulled away from him, he gaped at her, wondering if maybe he'd imagined it. It didn't take him long to recover.

Hannah was grinning as he pulled her close to him once more; "it's always the quiet ones," she told him with a sly little smile.

Neville had to agree and silently thanked his Uncle Algie and the Mimbletonia, which had, in a roundabout way, definitely returned the favour. He would continue to salute that plant for the next few years and when he and Hannah finally married years later, several of its cuttings would take pride of place in their garden. It might not have been pretty and it did smell a bit funny, but after all, it had certainly worked its magic for them.

A/N: Please let me know what you think of this. Loved it? Hated it? Reviews are my chocolate frogs!