Wednesday, 11/10/1998

The Great Hall was bustling as students tucked into dinner. The incessant snowstorm had not halted since last week, and the chill seemed to permeate every corner of the thick castle walls. Looking forward to the hearty and warm Hogwarts fare, Harry slipped into his usual seat next to Hermione and pecked her on the cheek.

"I missed you today, Harry! What kept you?"

At the sight of Hermione's dazzling smile and genuine excitement to see him, Harry immediately lost his train of thought. She missed me, she missed me, Oh Merlin what's wrong with me, she missed me, she missed me! Did she really miss me? Don't say it out loud you git, just act normal, just act normal!

"Harry?"

"Hermione, do you like music?" he blurted out for some reason.

Unfazed by the abrupt question, she merely shrugged "I guess. Mum and Dad play the wireless sometimes at home, but only the quiet stuff. I can't read with really loud music playing."

"Oh, so uh...you have a wireless?"

"My parents do, yeah."

"Do you like it?"

"Well, like I said, I enjoy some nice music every now and then but living at Hogwarts you get used to the lack of music. I like it enough, though. It's nice to have some music when doing chores."

"No, no, I mean the wireless. Do you miss it?"

I could get you a wireless. We could name it Prospero if it's a boy and Miranda if it's a girl. It's no trouble, really, I could even carry it around behind you and play it whenever you like...

"I suppose? But muggle electronics don't work at Hogwarts anyways, the ambient magic would interfere too much. So I don't see the point, really-"

"But if the wireless could work here, would you miss it then?"

At this point, even Ron had turned his attention from dinner. Eyes widening in horror as he realized where Harry's sudden interest in the wireless must have come from, he quickly swallowed and interjected, "Y'know, my Mum has a wireless at the Burrow and we never had any magic-related problems with it. Maybe there's a way to fix it - I can ask Dad?"

Hermione perked up at Ron's suggestion. "You know, that's a good idea - I bet if anyone would know how to fix it, it would be your dad. Looks like Harry wants a wireless pretty badly. I, for one, would rather focus on NEWTs, so no music for me. But don't let that stop you, since I know you haven't even begun studying yet, and they're only seven months away. Honestly, when will you guys get serious?"

Eager not to fumble his escape, Harry shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin. "I guess you're right, I'm just trying to avoid NEWTs studying with this stuff. How's your revision going so far?"

Mercifully, Harry's blatant attempt at changing the topic worked. Hermione launched into a month-by-month breakdown of her NEWT revision plans, and how she had even drawn up plans for the boys which would begin in earnest after Christmas. The rest of dinner was uneventful, until they left the Great Hall to head back to Gryffindor tower.

"Hermione, do you want to go for a walk outside?"

Quirking her head at him without breaking stride, she asked "Snowing a bit hard for that, isn't it?"

"I thought you liked the snow, though?"

"I do, Harry, but I don't like gallivanting around in snowstorms. We wouldn't make it 10 feet out there."

"Maybe if you had a good winter scarf."

"Huh?"

The three of them stopped in the halls, with Hermione once again shooting Harry a look of utter confusion, this time mixed with some mild concern. Ron was struggling to contain his laughter, clearly enjoying Harry's misfortune too much to rescue him this time.

"Uh, er, I just meant...you know, if we bundled up we might be okay. It's important to be prepared, right? But, uh, you're right, it's ghastly out there, dunno why I thought it would be a good idea to go outside. Guess it's just NEWTs bothering me again. Come on, let's go the Common Room then."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and all but sprinted away.

Later that night, Harry paced the diameter of his dorm, cursing his own eagerness and stupid mouth.

It's all Ron's fault, the bloody git. Stupid book planted all these ideas in my head, and he knows it too. Now he's having a laugh at me all the while.

"How are you, Harry?"

Violently rounding at the noise, Harry started at the sight of Neville in the doorway. He still wasn't used to the new, adult-looking Neville who had defied the Carrows and led Dumbledore's Army for a year. He hardly bore any resemblance to the stumbling boy who kept forgetting his Rememberball.

"I'm fine, Neville. Thanks."

"Okay," he replied, clearly not convinced. Harry resumed his pacing as Neville opened his trunk.

Whipping around again, Harry muttered "Uh, Neville...you know where I can get some flowers? Is there a shop in Hogsmeade or something?"

Smiling slightly, Neville turned and sat on his bed. "For Hermione, right?"

Sighing as he raked his hand through his hair, Harry nodded.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, really. That's the point. I'm not apologizing or anything, it's just, I figure I ought to get her some kind of gift and I reckon you can't go wrong with that. It's what you do for Hannah, right?"

"Well, actually I've only gotten her flowers when I messed something up. If I got her some out of the blue she would probably think I'm apologizing for something, and then she would think about what I should be sorry for, and then she'd get mad at me. Witches can be mad like that."

"Bugger. D'you think Hermione would think the same thing?"

Neville simply shrugged. "Maybe? I'm no expert, mate. But, if I know Hermione, I reckon I can do you one better than a source of flowers. Wait one sec." He turned to his trunk as Harry bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to contain his nervous hopefulness.

After an unbearably long 30 seconds, Neville turned to Harry with a thick book bound in dark green leather.

"A book? Look mate, it's Ron's bloody book that got me into this mess, I'm not sure if I need another one of those."

"No, no, it's nothing like that. You should give this to her, as a gift. I figure she'd like it more than flowers themselves."

"Oh, sorry. What is it then?"

"Ars Floris. It's an old book about wizarding courtship involving flowers. Back then I guess wizards would give witches certain flowers that would mean different things about the relationship. Supposed to be very ancient and traditional and all that. My Gran thought I should learn about it. I figure if anyone will enjoy reading it, it's Hermione. And the book is written like an encyclopedia, there's hundreds of different flower species it discusses with all of their courtship implications and stuff. So maybe she can tell you what her favorite is after taking a look, eh?"

Harry's heart sank. Neville, thoughtful and generous as always, had the good sense to notice that Hermione would appreciate a good book much more than some lousy flowers. But that was the whole problem. He didn't need a gift that Neville would get her. He needed a gift that he, Harry, her Boyfriend, would get her. Something Boyfriend-y, like flowers, but also meaningful and interesting to her, like a book about said flowers.

"Neville, I appreciate it, but I've gotten plenty of books for her already. I wanted to get her flowers because it's something people do when they're dating, you know? If only I could get her the flowers, and the book to go with it. Then I wouldn't look like such a tosser for getting such an uninspired gift. But it wouldn't make sense if I got her a hundred species of flowers in a big bundle to go with the book, now would it? Or if instead I split it up page by page or something, that would..."

Harry stopped at this thought, staring intently into a corner of the room for a moment. Suddenly he snatched the book from Neville, glancing at the cover, then Neville, then the cover again. Blinking, he split his face into a wide grin.

"Where do you get the flowers from, mate?"

Puzzled, Neville shrugged. "Usually from Professor Sprout, she breeds a whole bunch in the greenhouses and doesn't mind if I take some because I help her with the plantings and harvestings. If you asked her I don't think she would mind."

"Good, good, good. No, not good. Brilliant! You're absolutely brilliant, Neville. I still like Prospero as a name, but maybe Neville could do as well. You wouldn't happen to be named after a Shakespearean character, would you?"

"Huh?"

Not bothering to explain his new plans for the naming of his firstborn, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and Ars Floris, rushing out of the room while sporting a massive grin.