A/N: This is the Chudley Cannons Chaser 1 checking in for Season 9 Round 7 of QLFC.
Chaser 1: Write about an herbology incident.
Optional prompts: 5. (character) Neville Longbottom; 9. (object) flower pot; and 14. (color) green.
Plot loosely inspired by the film musical Little Shop of Horrors, but it should still make sense if you haven't seen the movie or staged production!
Warnings: Blood mentions (from cuts) and a litany of disappeared pets and creatures that are heavily implied to be deceased.
Word count (before A/N): 2,988 words
A special thank you to Hannah and Arty for beta-ing for me!
Neville smiled wide as his wife placed a chaste kiss against his lips.
"What brings you here on a weeknight?" he asked, eyes tracing the sweet curve of her rosy cheeks.
Hannah scoffed. "Do I need an excuse to see my own husband? Although…"
"I asked her here."
They looked toward the door of Greenhouse 5, where Headmistress McGonagall was waiting, a wry smile on her wrinkled face. "I'm sure you're aware we've had a bit of a lag in NEWT-level herbology students." McGonagall entered, pulling a Ministry-grade scroll of parchment from inside her royal green robes. "It seems the powers that be have taken issue."
Neville took the scroll from her and unraveled it, eyes growing wide with every word.
"It sounds like the Ministry's concerned about Nev's teaching abilities," Hannah said, reading over his shoulder.
But he was otherwise distracted. "You invited my wife here to watch me get sacked?"
"What? I would never!" McGonagall gave him a reproachful look. "I have no intention of dismissing you; honestly, you're one of the best here, Mr. Longbottom. The students love you. I just think interest in herbology has declined."
"More and more newly graduated students would rather work for themselves." Hannah rested a gentle hand against Neville's arm. "All those start-ups and magic-tech companies popping up in Diagon Alley."
"Indeed." McGonagall pursed her lips. "So, I thought the three of us could put our heads together and try to get some new NEWT recruits for next term."
"Me too?" Hannah asked. She looked pleasantly surprised to be included.
"Who better knows what Professor Longbottom is working on in his off hours." Neville blushed. He hadn't realized McGonagall knew about his dabblings outside teaching. "Let's sit on it for a week and see what we come up with," the headmistress finished. With that she turned on her heel and left.
Neville glanced at Hannah. The wheels inside her head were already turning.
"I call it Hannah II." Neville showed off the leafy green plant to McGonagall. Hannah blushed, once again pleased to hear what he'd called the latest edition to his home collection.
It had been Hannah's idea to bring it in as an incentive for NEWT students. Neville had found it a few weeks before at a Muggle greenery, where he'd spotted the plant nestled inside a pink-and-gold flower pot, the edges almost metallic in the glow of the sun.
"What is it?" McGonagall asked.
"Er," Neville rested the flower pot against his chest, "I'm not sure. The Muggle horticulturist said it's reminiscent of a Venus fly trap, but as you can see, the mouth is much larger on Hannah II—no offense, love."
"None taken." Hannah smiled.
The mouth was bigger though. Neville held it up again. Almost the exact size and shape of a lemon, but instead a deep green with purple veins running through it. Neville had been—and still was—convinced a wizard had crossbred a normal Venus fly trap with something magical.
He just needed to figure out what.
"And how will it garner student interest?" McGonagall asked.
"We'd put it here in the greenhouse window," Hannah motioned to the outermost wall that faced the castle, "and we'll make the whole NEWT project about figuring out what this little guy needs."
McGonagall stood straight. "I suppose it's worth a try. I've never seen anything quite like it before."
Hannah beamed at Neville, and for the first time since receiving that letter from the Ministry, he felt at peace.
The peace quickly led to excitement as news of the mystery plant in Professor Longbottom's Greenhouse 5 spread like Fiendfyre amongst the students. Hannah II became so popular that potential NEWT-level students were already asking when they could sign up for next term's lessons.
"We're getting so much buzz. I'm relieved, honestly," Neville said. It was just him and Two-ie in the greenhouse. "I was worried I'd get sacked. But you've really turned it around for me."
He smiled at the plant, only feeling slightly ridiculous. He was pleased to note that Two-ie had graduated from its original pink-and-gold pot and had been moved into a larger maple colored one. The purple veins had grown darker as the plant's head grew twice in size.
Neville gave Two-ie a pat. The plant didn't seem to enjoy it. Suddenly, Two-ie sank back into its flower pot, its mouth lying flat against the dirt instead of standing tall.
"Merlin!" Neville jumped up. Wrapping his hands around the pot, he rushed Two-ie over to his desk where he had a grow light hovering at all times. As much as he lamented magic-tech, it was one invention that had given him the power to monitor and sustain many plants in his day.
Neville set Two-ie under it, adjusting the purple hue with his wand. "Come on, come on," he coaxed. "Please, Two-ie. Not again."
The poor plant—whatever wild species it was bred to be—had been going through several bouts of dehydration. Neville had tried everything to keep the plant perky, but Two-ie seemed to be reluctant to keep thriving as it once did. It was as if the first few weeks in the greenhouse window had sustained it enough, and now that things were slightly looking up, it was throwing in the towel.
Neville dabbed at his brow, eyes never leaving Two-ie's sickly stance. When his hand came back down, however, it landed on the thorn of a rose. "Ouch!" he shoved his bleeding finger into his mouth. "When did I put that there?"
Two-ie twitched.
Finger still in mouth, Neville leaned in closer to the plant, willing the poor thing to rise again. It seemed to sense him, because the bulbous green head turned sideways, almost like it was looking back.
Neville's jaw dropped.
When his bleeding finger dislodged from his mouth, Two-ie perked up again, this time shaking its leaves in what Neville could only assume was excitement. Suddenly, it opened its mouth, revealing an intricate maze of purple and blue veins inside. Wriggling right at the center was a purple tongue.
Two-ie chirped.
"I knew you were magic." Neville pointed his bleeding index finger at Two-ie, another sense of elation washing over him. He'd been right in his theory—it must be a Venus fly trap mixed with something else. Perhaps a mandrake, considering it could chirp. Or something derived from the alihotsy tree...
Before he could dwell on it, Two-ie clamped its mouth around Neville's still-pointed finger.
"Hey!" He tried to pull it back, but Two-ie gripped tighter, seemingly content. It didn't hurt, Neville thought. It was more of a tickle, if anything, as the little plant slowly sucked on his wounded finger, perking up with each second.
Once completely standing again, Two-ie released him.
Neville closed his fist. He stepped away from Two-ie, watching intently as the plant chirped to itself under the glow of the grow light.
A part of him was glad Two-ie seemed better already. But another part of him… well, Neville wasn't entirely sure what he'd witnessed was a particularly good thing.
The end of term was nearing, and McGonagall was thrilled with the number of new NEWT-level students signing up for Neville's class the following year.
He felt completely and utterly stuck.
Two-ie, as it turned out, had a taste for blood. Somehow, that sustained it—and Neville had the many nicks and bandages on his fingers to prove it.
He couldn't pluck up the courage to tell McGonagall about Two-ie's diet and so, instead, had quietly been healing the wounds that he could while continuing to keep his plant alive. Bringing in students was more important, wasn't it, than always having ten working fingers? At least, that's what Neville kept telling himself.
What made it all the harder was that Two-ie, in addition to growing the NEWT numbers, had grown out of several flower pots—eight to be exact—and was very much nearing Hagrid's size. No longer did Two-ie sit in the outermost window of Greenhouse 5; now, Two-ie towered over the tables of the greenhouse, shadowing everything in a sickly green hue.
Neville had no idea when it had gotten to such an enormous size. He only fed Two-ie twice a week. But… he did have a sinking feeling that the litany of suddenly missing pets might not have the nicest of answers…
"Heya, Two-ie," he said sheepishly, his eyes scanning up the stalk of the plant. "I'm, uh, headed home for the weekend. Try—try not to get into too much trouble." He forced a laugh, attempting to lighten his darkening mood.
"I can't promise that."
Neville stopped in his tracks, a chill running the length of his spine. Slowly, his eyes scanned the length of Two-ie standing proudly over the greenhouse. He looked left, then right, then left again, hoping to find another source for the voice.
"Impossible," Neville squeaked. "You-you can't talk."
Two-ie opened its mouth, showing off the snake-like purple tongue living inside. "Of course I can," it said in its deep voice.
Neville had to sit down. "Impossible!" he croaked.
"Not impossible." Two-ie laughed. "Maybe improbable. But you're surrounded by magic every day, so I don't see how this is any different."
Neville swore Two-ie was smiling at him. "What are you?"
"I'm Two-ie!" The plant laughed again. "And you're going to get me dinner."
"Dinner?"
"Uh-huh. One of the furry ones with a tail. I like when they stumble in here. Makes for a nice meal, they do."
Neville broke out into a cold sweat. He swallowed the bezoar-sized lump crawling up his throat. "You mean—a cat?"
"Su-ure! And you're gonna catch me one. Or else."
Neville looked the plant up and down. It was rooted firmly in its clay pot, which, Neville knew, had enough dirt to hold down a tree. As frightened as he felt looking up into the ginormous green face of Hannah II, he also knew it couldn't possibly move far enough to get him.
Those poor cats that got too close. Neville would have to deal with that later.
Instead, he stood from his seat and took several steps back. Two-ie turned its head, seemingly watching with unseen eyes. Almost as if it was calculating Neville's next move.
"I, uh, I'll be-be right back." Neville dashed for the door.
At first, he thought it best to run right to McGonagall. However, the greenhouses were made entirely of glass, and while Neville was positive Two-ie didn't have eyes, the damned thing could clearly observe him. So, he walked as calmly as he could past the walls of Greenhouse 5, then with a little more pep in his step by Greenhouse 4, then full out skipping by Greenhouse 3. He was sprinting by the time he reached the castle.
Neville raced the halls, dodging students as he zig-zagged his way to the headmistress's office.
Panting, he gave the gargoyle on duty McGonagall's password.
"The Headmistress is out," the gargoyle said.
"What?"
"Gone," the gargoyle said. "Ministry business."
"But she—" He leaned in conspiratorially. "We have a bit of a situation in the greenhouses."
"Take it up with Professor Longbottom." With that, the gargoyle shut its wings over its face.
"I am Professor Longbottom!"
But he knew it was no use. His mind started racing with what he had to do next. If Two-ie was eating pets on the sly, who was to say he'd stop at that? Neville felt the lump in his throat from before, this time growing larger as he realized how serious everything had become. Looking down at his bandaged and half-healed hands, he realized all too late that he should have stopped sooner when he learned what the plant ate.
Briefly, Neville thought of getting the other professors involved, but he didn't want to alert the whole school to the talking homicidal plant in Greenhouse 5. McGonagall should know first, he decided. And until she returned, he'd have to take matters into his own hands.
That evening, Neville sat in Greenhouse 4, eyes trained on the giant green plant in Greenhouse 5. Two sets of thick glass walls obscured his view—not to mention the fact that it was night time and the only light came from flickering candles—but Neville could still make out the oversized lemon-shaped head of Two-ie towering over the tables.
After leaving a message for McGonagall to stop in as soon as she was back, Neville had sent Hannah a note saying he'd be stuck at school over the weekend. He hated lying, but he didn't want to alarm her to Two-ie's sentience; even now, Hannah believed all the cuts on his fingers were from a new breed of rosebush.
Neville rubbed at his tired eyes. "I can't believe this."
Of all the wild things he could have gotten himself into. Neville leaned back in his seat. He was probably going to lose his job now, despite how much he loved teaching the students.
But he couldn't let this go. It wouldn't be right to carry on, and Neville sure as Merlin wasn't about to start feeding live animals to his plant.
A scream broke through his thoughts.
Neville jumped up, eyes immediately finding Two-ie. The plant's outline looked blurry around the edges, like it was laughing. The head angled upward, and Neville spotted two long logs sticking out of its mouth.
"What on earth?"
Another scream echoed across the grounds, this one slightly more muffled.
Neville ran. As he approached the doors to Greenhouse 5, he pulled out his wand, ready to defend himself. However, once he threw open the door, Neville stood gobsmacked as he watched two human legs kick and thrash against the tight-lipped mouth of Hannah II. The body attached to the legs was somewhere inside the plant, where muffled shrieks could still be heard.
Neville rushed forward, his eyes never leaving the kicking legs. As he neared closer, his heart practically fell out of his mouth—he knew those sensible brown boots. "Hannah!" he screamed.
Climbing onto the edge of Two-ie's pot, Neville yanked at Hannah's ankles with all his might, doing anything to dislodge his wife from the mutant plant's mouth.
"Let her go!" Neville demanded, sending a kick right into the deep green stalk of Two-ie's stem, causing it to gasp and simultaneously releasing Hannah, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Neville protectively wrapped his arms around Hannah and pulled her away from the angry plant.
"Now you've gone and done it, Professor," Two-ie's voice boomed, shaking the rafters above.
"Nev—what's happening?" Hannah had gained some of her wits, big blue eyes looking around. "I thought I'd come surprise you since you were stuck here, but—" Before she could finish, the ground started to shake. A horrible rumbling noise took over, and Neville watched in horror as Two-ie's roots broke free from its clay pot, each veiny vine crawling across the floor of the greenhouse, snaking out into a spiderweb of green and purple roots and stems.
Neville guarded Hannah with his body.
"You should've brought me my dinner," Two-ie shouted. "But you didn't, and now I've got a craving for something a little more two-legged."
A vine snapped out at Neville, wrapping around his ankle. Right before Two-ie tugged him to his knees, Neville let Hannah go. If he could distract the plant long enough, Neville hoped she'd be able to get free.
"Run, Hannah," he yelled as the plant dragged him back toward its open mouth.
"Your wand!" Hannah yelled. "Use your wand!"
Neville blinked. His wand… his wand! How could he have forgotten?
Neville twisted as Two-ie pulled him. "Here's your dinner!" he yelled, sending a bright orange flame from the tip of his wand. The fire sparked against the plant's leafy exterior, charring the outermost leaves and sending smoke swirling like a halo from the plant's head.
The vine around Neville's ankle loosened slightly. Behind him, he could hear Hannah sending out her own fire spells, igniting Two-ie from root to stem.
Aiming at the slackened root around his ankle, Neville cried, "Diffindo!"
Two-ie screamed.
Neville scrambled to his feet and continued to light the plant on fire, ignoring its pleas to stop.
"Nev, we have to leave!" He looked back at Hannah, only to realize the greenhouse was quickly filling with smoke and flame. He nodded and dashed toward the door, reaching for Hannah's hand as they jumped and dodged the now thrashing Two-ie. Neville didn't even pause to see the last green bits of the plant spark, the greenhouse door instead closing on the ghastly sight inside.
"Well." McGonagall pursed her lips, looking from Hannah to Neville, each bloodied and bruised and covered in soot. "Here I was, updating the Ministry on the success of the Hannah II project, while the two of you were busy destroying an entire greenhouse."
Neville bowed his head in shame. Though part of him was relieved to be rid of the plant, he wasn't all that proud of how it had met its demise. Still, knowing he and Hannah survived felt like a small win.
"Professor," Hannah started. But McGonagall raised a hand to silence her.
"I'm extremely upset that the plant started eating our student's pets. That certainly puts a damper on the end of term. However," she pursed her lips again, though this time Neville caught a twinkle in her eye, "it appears the student body is quite impressed with a professor who would blow up school property."
"Me?" he asked.
"Herbology NEWT lessons for next term are all at maximum capacity," she stated plainly. "I guess pyrotechnics outweigh mutated plants."
Neville turned to Hannah. Her face reflected the surprise he felt.
"I get to keep my job next year?"
"Neville," McGonagall finally smiled, "it looks like you'll get to keep your job for life."