Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.
Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.
Author's Note (Generic Note for the Houses Competition): All my works should be considered to be Not Epilogue Compliant and I treat everything that is not the HP books and the Hogwarts Library Collection as apocrypha (supplementary to canon but still outside of it) and treat it as such (including ignoring it unless it suits me). I also make a policy of not ignoring abusive and distasteful actions/decisions of characters and not handwaving the effects of trauma experienced by characters. If you feel that a character isn't acting like their "canon self" chances are good that it's because of one of these two things and they are merely displaying a more realistic response than they did in canon.
Author's Note (Terms to Understand): A simple is an herbalistic term for a creation made primarily from herbs/plants. It can be something like a tea, an essential oil, a lotion, a salve, etcetera. A cultivar is a specific subspecies of plant that isn't defined enough to be a species in its own right.
Author's Note(s): I liked the idea of turning the idea that the guy pursues while the gal is pursued on its ear. I also think that sometimes when we're told something our entire lives, we tend to think it's true, even if it's not.
Challenge/Competition Block:
Stacked with: Houses Competition (Term 03); Lessons Learned; Not Commonwealth; Seriously Important (Not); Sky's the Limit; Terms of Service; Fem Power Challenge; Sapphic September; WIBI (x2)
House: Hufflepuff
Year: 6th
Category: Additional (1420-2010 words)
Prompt: Romance (genre)
Representation: Life Lessons; BAMF females; Romantic Shenanigans; Poly Ship (Neville/Hannah/Susan); Aurors/Healers; Susan Bones/Hannah Abbott
Bonus Challenge(s): Second Verse (Odd Feathers); Second Verse (Not a Lamp); Second Verse (Ladylike - Sexually Aggressive); Second Verse (Middle Name); Second Verse (Nightingale); Second Verse (Tomorrow's Shade); Second Verse (Unicorn); Second Verse (Three's Company)
Secondary Bonus Challenge(s): Schooner (Poly Ship)
Word Count: 1978
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A Forest of More
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"How many things have to happen to you before something occurs to you?"
– Robert Frost
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Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom had a simple life. He had gained a mastery in Herbology and had even gone to Muggle university for a pair of basic degrees in Botany and Agriculture. In between his education, he had built up the greenhouses at Thistlewood (the Longbottom seat) to grow plants for the express purpose of selling. Most of his customers were apothecaries that sold potion ingredients.
Most people may think that was boring, that perhaps he should have followed his parents' footsteps into the Auror Corps instead. It wasn't as if he lacked the skill to be a good Auror. The occupation of Hogwarts had seen a lot of the upper years (and more than a few of the lower years as well) gaining the skill sets that would have turned a lot of them into decent duelists. It would have been quite exciting to spend a few years chasing after dark wizards or competing on the dueling circuit like his Gran started doing again.
Neither of those things had been what Neville had wanted, however.
After the war, Neville had just wanted peace, which he had found in his greenhouses. It was comforting to be surrounded with life all day. Even his most poisonous and vicious plants eventually became part of potions that saved lives. For all that the man had been an absolute bastard, Snape had been correct when he said that many didn't see the magic in anything that didn't involve a wand. Neville could see the magic in simply growing things, though, and he loved how it felt.
In the last year, he had taken to creating various salves and such—just simples, really, and nothing that a Muggle couldn't do with the same materials. Neville may have never gained any skill with anything resembling an actual potion, but his simples were growing in popularity. The teas were especially popular among his Gran's contemporaries.
Neville enjoyed his quiet life.
He enjoyed his peace, away from the spotlight focused on him after his actions during the last year of the war.
It was a good life and more importantly, it was his in a way that being what everyone had expected wouldn't have been.
He didn't need or want anything more.
-= LP =-
Neville looked up from his book, already marking his place, as the bell above his shop door tinkled to announce someone's entrance. He matched Hannah's grin immediately. The blonde was one of his most frequent visitors, second only to her best friend Susan Bones. Hannah worked as a brewer at a small clinic down the lane from his apothecary and was currently one of his best customers for both his potion ingredients and his simples. Like him, she had gone to a Muggle university, except she had focused on medicine to supplement her still-ongoing apprenticeship at St. Mungo's, but as both courses of study were rather involved, she hadn't finished as quickly as he had.
(Susan had been in the same apprenticeship program as Hannah but since hers was only to be able to field-treat issues long enough to get a person to an actual healer, she had completed what she had needed before she had even finished her Auror training. Neville often got the impression that the two former Hufflepuffs were impossible to separate very far or for very long. The thought that they might be more than just best friends had crossed his mind more than once. He liked the idea of them growing from friendship into love and how it echoed his own parents' courtship.)
"That's a new book, right?" Hannah asked as she approached the counter. Her smile turned teasing as she placed her elbows on the counter and placed her chin on her palms. "Is it from your secret admirer like the last one?"
"Yeah," Neville agreed, his face flushing with embarrassed pleasure at the reminder. He dropped his gaze to the Muggle book on determining chemical concentrations within organic matter. He had been absorbed into it since it had arrived the day prior.
For the last few months, he had been receiving gifts every Friday morning like clockwork. Each gift was accompanied by a short note that indicated the romantic interest of the senders. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but it was definitely two different scripts. Judging on the gifts, which tended to be small and practical, they had to know him well. What Neville never understood was why they didn't just reveal themselves.
The whole situation made him feel like he was back at Hogwarts and nursing a crush. It didn't help that Hannah and Susan both seemed amused by everything and loved to tease him over it. Not a lot, of course, as neither were the type to be malicious, but just enough to make him blush.
In his most fanciable moments, he hoped that they were his secret admirers, but he knew that neither of them would ever see him as more than their friend. That was fine, perfectly acceptable. They were good friends and more importantly, they were his in a way that he had never really experienced before graduating Hogwarts.
He didn't need anything more, even if he did want more.
He was used to not getting what he wanted.
"So, uh, what can I do for you today?" Neville asked, hoping to deflect attention off of him. He lifted his gaze back to the blonde's. The heat he saw there startled him, but then it was gone, and Hannah was leaning in as if sharing a secret. The sun from the skylight flowed around her, making her shine like a will-o-wisp tempting him from the safe path through the marsh. His breath caught in his throat.
"Susan and I were hoping that you could join us for dinner tonight," she said, "and I won the coin toss to extend the invitation. So will you join us for dinner?"
"Uh, I—that is, I don't have anything planned that would interfere and you know I love hanging out with both of you, so, yeah, I would be happy to," Neville managed while pushing down the hope that was squirming around his chest and clamoring about his (nonexistent) chances. He liked the way things were between them and unwilling to make things awkward for no reason. "Your flat as usual?"
"And seven sharp," Hannah agreed as she nodded. She pushed off the counter and took a few steps backwards, looking like she was forcing herself to move away. "I have to get back to work, but we're really looking forward to dinner, Neville."
"Yeah," Neville said absently, paying more attention to the way Hannah was smiling than what he was saying. Her smile took on an edge of predatory satisfaction as she turned completely around and sashayed her way out of the door again. After the door closed behind her and the bell finished announcing her exit, his head hit the counter with a thunk.
He was so screwed.
-= LP =-
Having dinner together had become something like a habit between the three of them. Neville was not entirely certain when it had started, only that they had bumped into each other in the same pub one night and had decided to catch up. After that one shared meal, they had evolved into deliberate meetings before one of them had the idea of moving it to the flat that Hannah and Susan shared. The women had a television, because Hannah's half-blood sensibilities couldn't do without one, and more than one night had ended with the three of them watching some late-night show or movie while they shared a blanket.
They still went out sometimes, if there was a bonfire or festival happening nearby. Hannah convincing them to visit a local pagan event had been what had given Neville the idea of making simples in the first place. Eventually, Neville had started Flooing over in the mornings to go running with them. It had taken a month for him to be able to keep up with the women, but he had realized by the end of the first week why people would run when they weren't being chased.
Susan and Neville had completed their first 5K just a week before the mysterious gifts had started. Neville had originally thought that the first one was from Susan as a reward for all the hard work they had put into the preparation for the race. The included poem had thrown him. When neither woman had mentioned anything about the difficult-to-find seeds at that night's dinner, Neville had decided that it had to have been a fluke that he had mentioned his frustration trying to find that exact cultivar and then he got sent seeds for it.
Neville couldn't help thinking about how disappointed he had felt in that moment—when he had decided that his gift-givers couldn't be either of his friends—as Susan hugged him after he arrived. The redhead had pressed her body against his as she used the embrace to pull him further into the flat. He wrapped his arms around her, taking a moment to breathe in the nectarine scent of her hair. Eventually, she slipped out of his unresisting hold.
"Any interesting customers?" Susan asked as she led the way into their kitchen. Neville's mouth went dry when he realized that the sweater she was wearing had an open-weave pattern up the back, revealing the plum tree in bloom that Susan had tattooed on the skin there. He had known she had it, because she had requested a special balm for it, but in three years, he hadn't seen it. His fingers twitched at the temptation to work his fingers through the openings to stroke the delicate petals.
If Hannah was a will-o-wisp, then Susan had to be a kelpie.
Drowning sounded like a good way to go.
"Did you break him?" Hannah asked, breaking Neville out of his mesmerization with Susan's back. Susan laughed as she jumped up to sit on the counter near where Hannah was slicing vegetables. Hannah smacked Susan's hand as it reached for one of the pepper strips. Susan didn't look at all chastised. Hannah wagged her finger at Susan. "Don't tell me that you started without me! We agreed that we would ask him together!"
"Ask me what?" Neville interrupted before Hannah could build up to a full lecture. If it also interrupted Susan's attempt to nip Hannah's finger, then that was for the best, because his mind was not interested in respecting his friends' right not to be ogled like potential wank material. They were his friends and that was enough and did Hannah just say what he thought she did? He blinked at the girl like he was an owl. "Wha' did you say?"
"I said that we were wondering if you were interested in maybe dating us—both of us." Hannah spread her hands. "We've tried being subtle about it, but well…"
"We were either way too subtle in taking you out on the town as our arm-candy and spoiling you rotten," Susan interjected, "or you are just as clueless as you were back at Hogwarts. Either way, we're not blind to the way you look at us and we're interested in the perks that come along with actually dating."
"Dating? Me? Both of you?"
"Yep," Hannah agreed, popping the 'p' pointedly. She shared a grin with Susan. "We decided that sharing was a better idea than fighting. So it's both or neither, I'm afraid. But some things come better in pairs, don't you think?"
"Yeah," he said, his mind blanking with the happiness pounding through him as he let himself acknowledge what he had felt for a while now.
It was okay to want more.
-= LP =-
An Ending
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