Chapter 13: Enchanted Rose... A Hit!
Harry offered to have Neville join him in the Auror Department, after the war, but the young hero humbly declined. After a year of defending Hogwarts almost entirely on his own, Neville was exhausted, and wanted to focus on his relationship with Hermione.
When Harry came upon the pair openly kissing on the dilapidated Hogwarts grounds one day, a few days after the Battle, he gently took Neville aside and gave the couple his blessing. But it also came with a warning: "She's like my baby sister. If you hurt my best girl, I will not hesitate to kill you. I've killed before; I can kill again. And if Ron were in your place, I would be telling him the same thing."
Each with new respect for the other, the men shook hands under Hermione's bemused smile.
Neville opted to re-do his seventh year at Hogwarts, and his girlfriend Hermione joined him. Though technically referred to as 'eighth-years' by most of the staff, Neville and Hermione enjoyed serving as role models for the little ones. There was some occassional rule-breaking, such as sneaking out after hours to snog in an empty classroom, and often, Hermione had to be convinced to engage in these little escapades.
At the end of the year, Gryffindor won the House Cup. And Headmistress McGonagall had an announcement to make:
"Professors Sprout and Flitwick shall be retiring the end of this year, and they have both taken the unusual step of nominating their successors. Pomona?"
Pomona Sprout stood and sent her gaze directly at Neville. "I nominate Neville Longbottom to be my successor."
Seamus and Dean roared in approval, clapping their good friend on the back; a stunned Neville felt Hermione press a kiss into his cheek.
Then Professor Flitwick stood. "I wish for Miss Hermione Granger to teach in my stead."
Now it was Neville's turn to roar in approval. "That's my girlfriend! That's my girlfriend!" he shouted proudly to anyone who would listen.
But Hermione, with a decision to make, hesitated. "May I think for a month or so before I give you my answer, Professor?"
Surprised, Flitwick agreed. "The post is yours if you want it, child."
Neville had been trying to talk his girlfriend into accepting the post ever since the End-of-Year Feast. They bickered about it over Hermione packing. They bantered about it all the way to Hogsmeade Station.
"Love, you're the best witch to come out of this place in a generation! Just take it! We can be here together, live here - they pay staff handsomely! We can get going with life!"
Pausing as she leaned out the window of the train car, Hermione eyed her boyfriend beneath her on the platform. "Not until I find out what's become of my parents, Neville." She had told him, one night after making love, about magically sending her parents into exile.
"And then you'll come back?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Yes," she answered at last.
"You promise?" Neville prodded, encouraged.
"I promise. Now shut up and snog me."
The train whistle blew its last warning. Cupping his face in her hands, Hermione bent out the window and kissed her boyfriend with all the strength she could muster. His hands disappearing into her long hair, Neville kissed her back. Their lips held the kiss, deepened it, even as the train started to pull away. Hermione and Neville broke the kiss at last, wrenching free, and Neville set into a run to catch up with her carriage as long as he could.
"Goodbye! I love you!"
Hermione beamed tenderly. "I know. I love you, too."
Hermione did accept the Charms professorship, though she returned to her boyfriend's arms with a heavy heart. She had discovered that her parents had been discovered and tragically murdered in Australia, by Voldemort's forces. The atrocities looked like the work of the mercifully dead Bellatrix Lestrange.
Neville helped her grieve, and the couple threw themselves into their teaching, sleeping together alternately in each other's chambers, comparing lesson plans and trying to ignore the gossip from fresh first-years and even older students about the real nature of their relationship.
One fine spring day, towards the end of their first year of teaching, Professors Longbottom and Granger took a romantic stroll along the castle grounds, which were slowly but surely being rebuilt. By the Black Lake, Hermione gaped in astonishment as Neville suddenly turned to face her and got down on one knee. A shimmering red rose appeared, but this time, it was accompanied by a ring:
"Hermione Jean Granger, I love you. I have since our first year. You are kind and brave and have a good heart. I will love and honor you your whole life if you will let me. Will you marry me?"
Stunned, Hermione sank to the grass so that they were eye-level. She stared at Neville, and then the rose. Silence, and then:
"Your act's getting a little stale, love."
She had meant for it to come out as a joke, about this being the third rose in however many years, but Neville suddenly looked crestfallen, bracing himself for a No or Not Yet, Ask Me Again Later. Getting a very intense look on her face, Hermione took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. She drew away gently, drumming her fingers along his jawline as she contemplated her answer.
"Yes."
"Yes?" Neville gawped, heart alighting.
Hermione laughed and kissed him again. "Yes. I will marry you. I love you, Neville."
For the rest of the term, the engaged Professors kept their impending wedding a secret, drawing up invitations late at night. The rest of the staff was given top consideration, though there was one sore point that left both Hermione and Neville at a loss for what to do.
Draco Malfoy had been granted the position of Potions Master after the Battle - a move that was deemed by even some of his colleagues as very controversial. Only the students in Slytherin House seemed to respect him or at the very least grant him sympathy, as his reputation for being a coward at best and a traitor at worst preceded him. It would probably hang over his head for the rest of his life.
Neville knew all about the sorry tale of Malfoy Manor from his bride-to-be, and could understand why she would feel the urge to snub Malfoy of an invite to the wedding. For his part, Neville didn't want the blond git there, but he did not voice this thought to his fiancé, even when she tried to ask him for it. He was of the opinion that only Hermione could make the choice. "It's your call, love."
So, at the final staff meeting of the year, Hermione called the Hogwarts team to order. "I have an announcement." She turned to Neville, who beamed encouragingly. "Professor Longbottom and I are getting married. This summer. We want to do it on the Grounds, by the Black Lake."
Minerva McGonagall shrieked and ran around the table to hug her former pupil. The table burst into applause, with Professors Binns and Dean Thomas (from Defense Against the Dark Arts) pumping Neville's hand.
"You're all invited," Hermione began to deal out the invitations, stopping at a certain Professor's chair last of all...
And handing out an envelope.
"Even you."
Draco Malfoy looked like he had just been hexed, evidently expecting to get snubbed by the witch he had once tormented, and even passively watched being tortured by his aunt. "Really?" He gingerly took the outstretched envelope. "Thank you." And for the first time in his life, he sounded genuine. Truly touched and moved.
Hermione, however, kept her expression neutral. "I forgive you," she told Draco simply. Neville beamed with pride.
It was a lovely wedding. Hermione was the most stunningly beautiful bride. Without her parents there, she had asked Harry Potter (the youngest-ever Head of the Auror Department) in a heartfelt request to give her away.
Now down by the Black Lake, her oldest childhood friend and the closest thing she had to a brother offered her his arm. "Madame... shall we?"
Hermione giggled and curtsied. "I'd be honored, Master Auror."
Harry escorted Hermione down the aisle, and after handing her off to Neville, Hermione lovingly kissed Harry on the cheek in thanks. The Chosen One took his place in the front row, in the folding chairs with Dean on his left and pointedly not looking at Draco Malfoy on his right.
Seamus Finnegan stood by as Best Man. Nigel Wolpert, now ordained a Minister, officiated.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Professor."
Neville and Hermione lovingly embraced as the whole Grounds erupted in cheers and applause. Lee Jordan set off a round of Filibuster Fireworks, much to McGonagall's chagrin.
At the reception, Harry danced with the bride. "Ginny will see you to the airport. I have to slip out of here and hope no one notices."
Hermione's heart twinged as she gazed up at him. "A mission?"
"Undercover. Dangerous. Daedalus is going with me; old tosser is more than capable of watching my back."
Hermione squeezed him in a tight hug. "Be careful," she implored.
"Hey: it's me." Harry grinned and kissed her forehead. "You look beautiful, little sister. Love you."
Hermione grinned with deep affection. "Right back at ya, big brother."
