Surprisingly, I have kept up the twice a week updates so far. Pretty sure I'm more impressed with myself right now than anyone reading this is. Hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you for reading! I'd like to keep up these updates, but am not promising having them as often since on Tuesday I'm going across the country to start college in New York. Yay, I'm officially a responsible adult!

Chapter 14- Flitterblooms and Foodstuffs

This time Neville succeeded in warding the bowl of the spoon in only half an hour and they spent the rest of the lesson trying it on other materials, then increasing the size of the thing he was holding until he could ward a piece of wood the size of both his hands, fully outspread.

McGonagall looked ridiculously pleased and ended the lesson fifteen minutes early; a fortunate decision as Neville felt he was about to collapse from exhaustion.

"I am smart, I am strong I am brave," he said aloud to the ceiling after she left, remembering the proud smile McGonagall had given him and feeling less awkward than he had saying it the night before.

'Maybe I really am smart, strong and brave,' he mused to himself. 'Or at least one of the three.'

Meanwhile, outside Professor McGonagall was still smiling her secret, happy smile. Flitwick's homework was working perfectly, and the boy was mastering the material even quicker than McGonagall herself had- probably due, in part, to the fact that her teachers had all long been dead and gone and the most encouragement she had received in her word studies was a an eager, "D'you think I could use it to blast teachers away if they try hitting me on the hand with a ruler again?" Which became considerably less eager when she rejected the idea. Crazy Algie.

The next morning Neville woke up to the tapping of a barn owl on his window. He jumped out of bed and tugged on the latch, fumbling with it in his half-asleep state. The owl flew in and Neville held out his arm for it to land on, but it merely stared at him suspiciously and held out the letter in its claws, wings still flapping. Neville took the letter, careful not to be buffeted by the bird's wings, and the owl flew out of the window immediately, flapping away as though lives dependent on its expedient return.

Neville sat back down and opened the nondescript envelope, guessing from the bird's erratic behavior that it was a letter from Moody.

Work is boring, I have eight times more paperwork than field work. How are you? Still hanging out with Terry Boot? I'm doing as well as usual considering all the danger surrounding us in these times. Remember: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

Alastor Moody

Okay, so apparently Moody had taken his note and ignored most everything Neville had written. Scratch that, he had ignored everything COMPLETELY. Or written a hidden message.

'What is it with the Order and codes?' wondered Neville, trying to figure out what on earth Mad-Eye meant. Then he unfurrowed his brow and shrugged. He'd just ask McGonagall. It was probably about eight anyway.

Looking at his alarm clock, Neville changed his mind. 'Who in their right mind sends an owl to arrive at four in the morning?!' he thought.

Remembering that Moody wasn't exactly in his right mind, he sighed and went back to bed.

The next morning Neville did not have time for any special work in the Greenhouse, since the fourth of the month was when Professor Sprout checked on all of the plants to make sure they were thriving.

"This job usually takes me about two twelve hour days of work," she said conversationally as she pulled back the leaves of a Fanged Geranium and gently trimmed it, her dragonhide gloves protecting her from its bite.

"Hopefully it won't take that long this time," said Neville, studying the next row of plants and trying to decide if they were Devil's Snare or Flitterblooms.

Sprout took a look at his thoughtful expression and sighed. "I already told you dear, if it's a summer midnight sky blue it's Devil's Snare."

Neville nodded and moved on to the next row; Devil's Snare never needed to be checked on.

"Neville?"

"Yes?"

"Those plants were more of a twilight blue. Also, the Greenhouse is arranged alphabetically, so after Fanged Geraniums come Flitterblooms."

"Of course."

Neville went back and started checking on the twilight blue plants. "Professor, have you found out any new information about the Mandrakes?"

Sprout frowned. "I have been trying to research them, but not many people are interested in philosophical questions when it comes to plants. I'm going to write to Miranda Goshawk when I get the chance; don't worry, I'll tell you if anything turns up." Wiping dirt onto her forehead absently, she grinned at him. "But if you want a plant to help, the blooming Wolfsbane is looking quite blue."

Neville laughed and finished checking his row of plants. "If we get all the way to Wolfsbane before lunch tomorrow it'll be a miracle."

"Miracles happen once in a while. Though we've already had one happen quite recently, so I wouldn't hold my breath."

"What kind of miracle?" asked Neville, elbow deep in a Flutterby bush.

"The having-you-here-so-I-can-have-a-normal-night's sleep kind."

View blocked by the quivering bush, all Neville could see of her face were her eyes, crinkled at the corners.

"No sandwiches? Or chairs" asked Professor Sprout, walking into the greenhouse to find an empty table.

"Not today," replied McGonagall, mouth twitching. "They said they had planned a surprise for us, all by themselves, and were absolutely not allowed to tell us who had asked them to. It's quite the puzzle, but lunch- whatever it is- should be here soon."

Neville could tell by the expression on her face that Professor McGonagall had a very good idea of who had asked them, but found that he did not really mind. Especially since he had just remembered he had something to ask her.

"Professor McGonagall, Moody replied to my letter but I don't-"

"We's done," came a voice from Neville's elbow, and he looked down to find Winky right beside him.

"You can tell me all about it later," said McGonagall, smiling. "I wouldn't want such an excellent person as Pomona to be kept waiting for her lunch."

"Okay, Winky, now is perfect," Neville said, and a moment later there was a large pizza on the table, and three worn-in wooden chairs around it.

"What is this?" asked McGonagall, raising a brow. "It seems familiar, but…"

"Oh, wonderful!" said Sprout, immediately seating herself as McGonagall took her seat as well, albeit more hesitantly.

"Where are the plates?" asked McGonagall helplessly.

"No plates, it's best when you eat it with your hands!" said Neville happily, sitting down and grabbing a slice.

"But you were just in the gardens for hours! You should at least wash your hands," said McGonagall, shocked.

"But there are a lot of nutrients in soil," Neville argued, taking a bite.

Seeing McGonagall's face, Professor Sprout felt the need to clarify. "Longbottom and I wear our gloves all day and wash our hands right before and after taking them off. With soap."

Heaving a sigh of relief, the smell of the food finally hit Professor McGonagall. "This seems to be adequate, but I still would like a plate and utensils like a human being."

Neville shrugged. "I figured you would, so Winky's bringing one in a few seconds. It was worth a try, though."

"What on earth is this thing?" she asked, gesturing towards the heretofore unnamed food.

"Pizza!" Neville said happily, grabbing another slice as Winky appeared with a pop. "I'm a growing teenager, I can't have tea parties every day for lunch. Next week we'll have turkey legs!"

'Not if I have anything to do with it," she muttered, picking up a piece of sliced pizza with her fork, stern expression melting into one of delight as the bite of deliciousness hit her taste buds.