Disclaimer: Harry Potter is from the creative genius that is J.K. Rowling. We are not her. This is merely a fan fiction.
Neville fidgeted in his seat as he waited for Professor Sprout to finish looking over his plant request. He knew what he asked for was considered to be a Category 5 Dangerous plant, but he had worked with other plants in that category before now.
"Mr. Longbottom," Professor Sprout began looking over her reading glasses at him. Her desk was filled with all sorts of plants and flowers. Most of them were specially picked to be calming and give off a pleasant scent, and after looking at Longbottom's request she was glad they were there. "I have looked at your request and proposal concerning the plant, and while I do admit you are a brilliant herbology student, it is not a normal occurrence to allow a student to handle a plant such as this. Icarus Wings are very rare and hard to come by."
"There are five of them in greenhouse eight," Neville said, watching as the corners of Professor Sprout's mouth turned up slightly.
"How can you be so sure, Mr. Longbottom?" she asked fighting a smile that her brightest student had indeed known that fact. The Icarus Wings were very well concealed.
"Greenhouse Eight houses tropical plants," Neville began. "The temperature throughout the greenhouse must remain at a constant 87 degrees or above. The greenhouse is kept all year round. No warming charm lasts that long, and while you may be able to cast a charm once a day the potency of the charm will vary. So there is no way it could be a warming charm. Icarus Wings give off heat of 90 degrees within a 17 foot radius. It would take five plants – one at each corner and a central one to keep the greenhouse at necessary temperature throughout."
"20 points to Gryffindor for your knowledge Mr. Longbottom," Professor Sprout said now grinning. "However, you must also realize that because of those plants in greenhouse eight, we cannot give you an Icarus Wing for this project."
"You wouldn't need to give me one," Neville said reaching into his cloak and pulling out two small pots containing two very small seedlings. "I just need you to place these pots near them for a week. My research indicates that they are compatible to be cross-pollinated."
Professor Sprout sat back for a moment, contemplating this new proposal.
"You do realize if this works the resulting plant will be extremely dangerous, well beyond that of the typical Icarus Wings," she asked. "Your new plant could become a Category Six, Neville. In other words, a life-threatening plant."
"Yes, when it first blooms but once it completely opens, it will have a milder but wider range of heat. It will make it easier to keep plants such as those in greenhouse eight."
"Fine then," Professor Sprout said taking hold of the two seedlings from Neville. "But I expect full reports every week on your progress and if anytime things go wrong, the project will be terminated as well as the resulting hybrid."
"I understand."
As soon as the door closed to Professor's Sprout's office, Neville let out a breath he hadn't realized his was holding. Leaning up against the door for support, he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt to let him breath better. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief.
"Tough meeting, love?"
Neville's eyes snapped open to see Alaire shyly smiling at him. "How long have you been out here?"
"Since you went in," she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek and wrapped her arm around his. "I mean, my boyfriend gets all dressed up, is nervous and then leaves without telling me where he's going."
"You…you thought I was cheating on you!" he said as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"I knew it wasn't true, but still I got a tad bit –"
"You were jealous," Neville teased as they walked back to Neville's study.
"So what if I was," she shrugged. "Now tell me, Neville, who should I be more jealous of Professor Sprout who obviously made you nervous or the plant you were probably speaking passionately about while you were in there. My money's on the plant."
"I was just seeking approval to go ahead on another hybrid project," he said.
"Another one? Good lord, don't you ever stop? How many projects does that make this year?"
"Four, but only one has been successful."
"Do you know how many professional herbologists don't even have one successful hybrid during their life?"
Neville just shrugged. He knew that he had done well but he didn't do it for the fame or fortune. He just enjoyed the challenge. He felt lucky that he had found his niche in life. It had all started because plants couldn't talk back to you. You could tell all your problems to them and they would never say "Well, you should have remembered the password!" or "If you hadn't stepped on her feet, she would have given you a second chance." He had been able to hide away in the greenhouse his sixth year after the Ministry debacle. It wasn't until Ginny dragged him physically to the Halloween party that he admitted to himself that he was depressed. He had rejoined the world after that night but in times of stress, he could always be found talking to his Mimbulus Mimbetonia.
At least, he did until Alaire came along. Suddenly, he had been forced to deal with his emotions instead of hiding from them. The Halloween night that he had taken Alaire to his study, he realized that she made him feel better than any plant. He felt that he had begun to bloom just like his namesake rose.
"Did you give everyone their late Xmas gifts yet?" he asked steering the conversation away from himself.
"Yeah," Alaire said laughing. "I gave Hermione her book and she tried to tell Ron he'd enjoy it too. He went off about he didn't enjoy reading 'bloody books and it was a waste of time.' Just wait until he finds out what it really is."
"I don't want to be around what that happens," Neville said smiling. "I still don't believe you got her that."
"Well, technically, I got them that gift. I'm sure they'll both enjoy it. They'd better appreciate it. You have no idea how embarrassing it was to buy. You would have thought I was buying an X-rated video, not a 'How to Give a Great Massage' from the look the clerk gave me."
"Just pay back for the cologne incident!"
"Ha, ha. Very funny. It was less embarrassing in Victoria's Secret."
"Speak for yourself! That place was made just to torment blokes. But I'm sure Draco will enjoy the present you got Ginny."
"Ah, yes. She ran off right after I gave it to her. I wonder if they have a secret place like we do," Alaire said slyly.
Neville blushed. "I'm sure they do."
"I don't know about Harry's gift though," Alaire sighed. "He was actually trying to do divination homework with it. I tried to tell him a Magic 8 Ball wasn't really magic, and he said it was more magical than divination."
"Did you ask him about training you?"
"Yes," Alaire sighed as they stopped in front of his study door. "He agreed, though I don't think he was too happy about it. I really don't know, Neville. I don't like fighting."
"Don't think of it as fighting," Neville said. "Think of it as staying alive long enough for you to make an honest man out of me."
He gave the password and walked into his own private greenhouse. He glanced up at the Longbottom Rose which had taken over the northwest corner of the room.
"I haven't made you a dishonest man yet," Alaire smirked as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
"No, but you're sure trying and I just can't resist your charms for too much longer," Neville sighed playfully.
"I'll have to remember that," Alaire said smiling as she kissed him behind his ear. She giggled when he shivered. "Give you the heebeejeebees?"
"The what? Honestly, sometimes I think you Americans speak a different language!"
"The chills, silly! You know, like if you accidentally bump into a ghost or something."
"Oh. Ick." He shivered again as he pulled away from her and undid his tie. "I did that my first year. Ran right through Nearly-Headless-Nick. I'm not sure who was more upset."
"Hmm. So my kissing you is the same as running through a dead person? What a compliment."
Neville turned from where he was putting away his tie and began to work at the buttons of shirt. "Hmm. Similar but not quiet the same."
"Aren't you the comedian today?" She watched him unbutton his shirt with a confused smile. "Neville, why are you undressing? Not that I'm complaining but a less, um, direct approach is . . ."
Her voice trailed off as Neville finished with his last button and pulled off his shirt revealing a smooth, broad chest.
"I keep a few extra sets of clothes here in case of accidents. Now that I have a girlfriend, I don't want to show up to dinner smelling of dragon dung."
"Oh."
"That's why I have that nice shower."
"Yeah."
"Anything wrong, Alaire?"
"Nope."
"OK, if you say so." He hung his shirt on a hook behind the bathroom door and pulled down a rugby shirt that Dean had given him for Christmas.
"You're getting dressed?" Alaire asked in a whisper.
"Yeah. We've got to get to dinner."
"Oh."
Neville turned his back to Alaire to hide his smile and started to pull on his shirt but stopped when a pair of female hands swiftly caught the shirt and wrapped it around his hands. Now he was stuck with his hands above his head.
"Are you sure you want to go to dinner, Neville? We have some snacks here." Neville turned his head to see Alaire staring at him with wide eyes. "I mean, chicken pie is overrated."
"But what about dessert?"
Alaire let go of his hands and leaned against him. "I promise to satisfy any . . . cravings you might have."
Neville took one look at Alaire's face and threw the shirt to the floor.
"I think I could be persuaded," he said as he began to nibble at her neck. "Mmm, tastes like heebeejeebees."
Alaire and Neville headed out to dinner very, very late. As they were walking quickly down the halls spurred on by growling stomachs, Alaire took Neville's and cleared her throat.
"Ahem. Um, Neville? There's something that I need to talk to you about."
"More important than heebeejeebees?" Neville asked with a laugh. He felt like he was floating on air but he was about to be suddenly grounded. "Um, well, related, actually." They entered the Great Hall which still had a few stragglers around the tables. Alaire spotted Ginny's red hair and headed towards her.
"Hi! We made it!"
"I was beginning to wonder." She gave Neville a sly smile. "Dare I ask if what made you late and what has plastered a smile on your faces is the same thing?"
Neville had the grace to blush while Alaire gave Ginny a dirty look. She waited until Neville had filled his plate with chicken pie then gave him her best smile.
"Uh, oh," he muttered through his food as he glanced between Ginny and Alaire. He swallowed and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Well, I wouldn't say anything is wrong, would you, Alaire?"
"Oh, no! Definitely not wrong! But, perhaps, interesting?" Alaire's voice kept getting higher and higher.
Neville pushed his plate aside. "OK, what's up? I know better with the two of you."
"Well . . ." Ginny looked at Alaire who took a deep breath and began.
"It was all a misunderstanding. You see, Ginny and I were talking about my Magical Creatures project for Hagrid. Since I'm not taking a NEWT in his class, he's asked me to make a book of magical American animals for his first years. And Ginny and I were discussing it in the library."
"Yeah, so what's wrong with that?" Neville asked. His stomach was starting to hurt.
"Well, we were discussing Phlogiston Gators, these fire-breathing gators that we have in Louisiana."
"We were just comparing snout sizes, you know my brother works with dragons, when Wallace Evans . . ."
Neville interrupted. "Hang on! You were comparing snout sizes?"
Alaire nodded at him as she held her hands out in front of her. "I was just saying to Ginny that when a Phlogiston Gator is a baby, its snout is just four inches long." She held her hands out an appropriate length.
"Then I said that a Peruvian Vipertooth has a six inch snout when it's born." Ginny held her hands out in front of her about six inches apart.
"But then when a P-Gator, that's what we call'em back home, is only a month old, it doubles in size." She spread her hands out further at which point Ginny began to giggle.
"But my Vipertooth is MUCH larger, Alaire." She widened the distance between her hands.
"But then I pointed out that a P-Gator starts out much smaller," she narrowed her hands as she began to chuckle. "Then gets much bigger, much faster." She pulled her hands apart. "I told her that a fire-breathing gator could take her dragon anytime."
Neville put his head in his hands and began to laugh.
"I disagree," Ginny said defensively. "But anyway, we were discussing these size changes when Wallace Evans, that tall, dark, and menacing Slytherin from sixth year, came over."
"Yeah, and I don't know where his mind was!"
"In the gutter!"
"Exactly."
Neville wiped a tear from his face. "OK, so what did Evans do?"
Alaire began to blush.
"Well, he obviously misunderstood what we were talking about because he came over and pulled my hands apart this far," she measured about six inches. "And said 'That's a good size if you're interested."
Neville felt his face grow hot. "He hit on you?"
"Nothing she couldn't handle," Ginny said with a smile.
The stomachache came back. "Alaire, what did you do?"
"I pulled my hands about this far apart," she measured an additional two inches. "Then I said-I said . . ." She took a deep breath. "I said that I dated Neville Lo-o-o-o-ngbottom. And I wasn't interested in the least. Literally."
Neville felt his face go several shades of red as Ginny's giggles erupted into full belly laughs.
"It was instinct, Neville, I just had to put him in his place. And it was really a compliment to you."
"Yeah!" Ginny was in danger of falling out of her seat.
"I know that you're a private kind of guy . . ."
Thump! Ginny fell out of her seat.
"Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Goodnight. Is there a problem with Ms. Weasley?" Alaire looked up to see McGonagall looming over her shoulder.
"Longbottom! Goodnight!" Ginny laughed even harder. "Has she been hit with a tickling charm? Take it off!" McGonagall demanded.
"No, ma'am. She's fine."
"Well, then! Get out of the floor, Ginny Weasley. I'd expect such behavior from one of the twins but you!" She turned and stomped out of the Great Hall as Ginny sat back down at the table. The three students looked at each other as solemnly as they could before they burst out laughing.
As they walked to the Gryffindor common room, Alaire nudged Neville and said, "I'm proud of you, Neville. I think you're loosening up! If I had said that about you back when we first started dating, you would have hit the roof."
"Yeah, Neville, I remember you being afraid to hold my hand in public."
"For your information, Ginny, it was because I was afraid of being hexed into the next century by your brothers."
"Good thing, my Dad's not around then."
"Yeah, good thing." The jibing continued until a loud
"Clang!" interrupted them. It was an alarm bell. It faded away only to be followed by Professor McGonagall's voice.
"All students are to report to their common rooms and check in with their prefects. There has been an attack at Hogsmeade. All students are restricted to within the castle until further notice. You have fifteen minutes to get to your common rooms. Anyone in the halls after that time will be punished severely. Again, there has been an attack on Hogsmeade. All students are restricted to within the castle and must report to their prefects in their common rooms. Reports will be sent to the prefects as soon as we receive any news. Thank you. Now move!"