Religious Education, task 7: Write about someone or something growing physically

Word Count: 1011

Hannah is more than a little sure that she is going to scream. She scowls down at the tray, disappointed in herself. It isn't that she's terrible at Herbology; really, she does quite well. This particular seed, however, has pointedly refused to do anything other than sit, buried in the soil.

She looks around at the other trays, trying to suppress the jealousy. Almost all of them have sprouted, transforming into thin seedlings. Neville's has the first hint of indigo poking out of a tiny bud.

Why is it so difficult for her?

"Oh! Sorry. Didn't realize anyone was in here."

Neville's voice catches her by surprise. Hannah nearly drops the watering tin onto her tray. Great. The last thing she needs is to accidentally crush her stubborn seed. She doesn't think Professor Sprout would be amused.

"There usually isn't anyone in here when I stop by," Neville says, setting his bag on the ground near his station.

"Do you usually come here?" Hannah asks curiously.

Neville shrugs, offering her a sheepish smile. A soft blush paints his freckled cheeks a faint pink. "Like clockwork," he answers. "The plants like company."

Hannah is about to laugh it off, but she stops herself. What if he's right? After all, his plant is doing much better than anyone's. Maybe he has discovered the great secret.

"Do you just stand around?" Hannah presses.

Neville laughs and shakes his head. He bends down, plucking a book from his bag. According to the battered and worn cover, it is a collection of poems by some writer Hannah has never heard of. She finds herself smiling as she understands.

"So you read to your plant," she says.

"Sometimes. I also sing to it. Sometimes, I just come in here and talk to it while I tend to it," Neville answers. "You don't think it's weird?"

Hannah shakes her head. She wouldn't call it weird. Not really. It's different, but that isn't a bad thing. Truthfully, she thinks it's sweet.

Her eyes flicker to her own tray. She hasn't added compost yet. As she mixes a small scoop into her water, forming a sort of tea, she finds herself humming. It's some distant lullaby she vaguely remembers from her childhood. Maybe her mother had sung it to her an eternity ago, but Hannah doesn't remember clearly.

"Here you go," she says softly, moistening the soil with the earthy-scented water. "You're going to grow big and strong, aren't you?"

It feels silly, but Hannah doesn't mind it. She smiles as she tends to her seed.

"See? You're a natural Herbologist," Neville teases.

Hannah rolls her eyes, but she feels quite pleased with herself. "Yeah, well, let's hope."

…

It becomes part of her routine. Every evening, just before dinner, when their peers are caught up in leaving the academic world behind, Hannah joins Neville in the greenhouse.

After a week, she sees the first hint of green poking out beneath the dark soil, and she grins. "Look!" she calls, gesturing Neville over from his station.

Maybe it isn't something to get excited about, but Hannah is overjoyed. This has given her trouble for so long, but now her plant is starting to grow.

Neville doesn't tease her for her excitement. Instead, he mirrors her grin and holds his hand out for a high-five. "Well done!"

Hannah finds herself blushing, though she can't explain why. She clears her throat and looks back at her tiny seedling.

"Thank you," she says softly. "I really appreciate it."

"It really wasn't any trouble," Neville assures her. "Honestly, I've liked spending time with you."

Her blush deepens until she feels like her entire face is on fire. Unsure of how to respond, she just nods and hopes it is enough.

…

She's practically giddy when she sees the slowly-unfolding indigo petals. It's hard to believe it had been a seed not too long ago, and she had been so sure she would have to accept a failing grade.

Susan looks up from her tray. Her plant has grown too, but it doesn't have any buds yet. "How on earth did you manage that?" she asks, brows raising curiously. Hannah wonders if she hears an edge of jealousy in her best friend's voice. "Is it a special fertilizer?"

Hannah shakes her head, pleased with herself. "Just takes a little TLC," she answers, shrugging. "Try singing to it."

"You're taking the mickey…"

Hannah doesn't know if the time and attention she's given the plant really makes a big difference. Maybe. Maybe it's just a coincidence. All she knows is her plant has grown so beautifully, and she couldn't have done it without a little help from Neville.

…

"Hey, Neville!"

Hannah catches up to him easily enough. The way he had lingered and acted like he wasn't in a hurry to return to the castle makes her wonder if he had hoped she would find him. She blushes again; he seems to make her blush a lot lately.

"I just wanted to thank you," she says. "You saved my grade."

He shrugs and looks down at his feet as they start back toward the castle. Hannah wants to laugh. The bloke beheaded You-Know-Who's snake just months before, and he is still so modest.

"I really didn't mind it," he murmurs, fingers awkwardly tugging at his House tie. "I enjoyed it."

"Can I buy you lunch at Hogsmeade this weekend?" she asks. "I… I want to thank you somehow."

"You really don't have to," he assures her, and the soft blush that stains his cheeks somehow emboldens her.

"Okay. Not to thank you," she decides. "How about a date?"

Neville grins at that, nodding. "I'd like that," he says softly.

"Great. It's a date," Hannah says, smiling so broadly that her jaw aches.

As they walk back to the castle together, laughing and chatting, she can't help but feel a ripple of joy move through her body. In the end, it looks like her plant isn't the only thing that has grown over the past few weeks.