Chapter Six

Hogwarts

October 4, 2017

warning: sexual imagery

Neville Longbottom still hated the dungeons with all of his heart. Just walking past the staircase down to them in the Entrance Hall shot adrenaline up his spine, and actually walking into the potions classroom itself he experienced the familiar feeling of asphyxiating terror. This made his job particularly difficult at times, seeing as he was the Deputy Headmaster and the Head of Gryffindor. On this particular morning, he was already feeling tense so he took a calming draught before his regular Wednesday morning trip down to the dungeons to chat with Professor Bullstrode. Millicent was no Snape by any means, and was actually quite pleasant as a colleague. She was a newer addition to the Professorial team at Hogwarts, even though she and Neville had been in the same year. All the same, Neville often required self-coaxing each Wednesday morning to perform his duties.

"Millicent," he said after she bid him into her office. "how are things going." He sat down in front of her desk even though she was busy in her storage closet, doing inventory on her supplies.

"Well, Neville, and how are you?" She asked, still hidden from sight.

Neville nodded, but realized his error. "Er – fine." he replied after waiting several unfortunate seconds.

"You hesitated." Millicent asked, coming out of the storage closet and sitting down at her desk. She was a tall, square, plain woman – not as rough-looking as she had been in her Hogwarts days, but nothing particularly pleasant, either, but it didn't bother her. Her job wasn't to be aesthetically pleasing, it was to produce excellency in her field, and she was good at it. Aesthetics were far from the most important thing in her mind.

Neville shook his head, "I'm fine. I took a calming draught this morning, I guess I'm a little slower than normal."

She didn't nod or ask questions, but continued sitting.

"Right then. Any new reports?" He asked, learning forward in his chair.

"None that I can think of. Gave three detentions yesterday to the third-year Potter and the third-year Weasley. I know you're close with the families, you might go on and tell their mums if you feel like it. I don't know if it would do any good, but I'm open to anything at this point, if it'll get those two to take a break for a bit."

Neville smiled, trying not to show his genuine amusement. "I'll look into it, but I'm not sure just how much James and Louis are affected by their mothers' warnings. Ginny might know how to take care of things, but Fleur just assumes that James is the instigator. I don't think she knows just how devious her youngest child can be."

Millicent shrugged. "I just know that if they pull another prank like that in my classroom-

"What did they do?"

"They purposefully dropped a vial of horned slug secretion into a highly volatile personal project that I was working on. Snuck over to my cauldron when I was putting some directions up on the board. It exploded, of course, and it was lucky that they hadn't tried it the week before or we might be dealing with some very serious injuries. As it is, a few of their other classmates have some minor burns and were throwing up slugs for the remainder of the day."

Neville winced and his stomach turned, remembering in devastating detail what it was like for Ron to be cursed with vomiting slugs.

"Sorry about your project," he said. "will it take very long to recreate?"

Millicent shook her head. "I was only about ten days into the brewing process that should take about a month. It could have been worse. I've gone and wasted some particularly expensive ingredients that I'll have to track down and replace, though."

Neville nodded. "If you need help with that I'm sure Minerva can provide some funds, since they came out of your personal storage and students are at fault."

Millicent nodded her thanks.

"If that's about it, then, I suppose I'll see you at lunch." Neville left his seat, gave Millicent a short wave, and made his way quickly out of the dungeons.

Leaving the dungeon stairwell, Neville felt his chest clear of any remaining anxiety. He rounded the sharp corner that opened the small hallway up beside the Great Hall and promptly bounced into a student.

"Oh, Roxanne, I'm so sorry." He kneeled to gather the books and papers the impact had thrown into the floor.

"It's quite alright, Uncle Neville."

Neville stood up smiling, handing the things over to his friends' young daughter. He was quite pleased that the Potters and the Weasleys had remained such close friends with the Longbottoms over the years, so much so that the children thought of Neville and Hannah as uncle and aunt rather than just adults they knew of up at Hogwarts. He had been there at most of their births and watched as his son, Frank, grew up beside them. Anne in particular had looked just like her Aunt Ginny from day one, and despite his crush on Ginny Weasley dissolving many a year ago, it created a small fondness in him for this particular student.

Neville noticed that his favorite second-year standing in front of him (not that he truly had favorites, mind) didn't look too content at the moment.

"Are you quite alright, Anne? You're looking down."

Anne shrugged, adjusting the stack of school-things in her arms. "I'm alright. Just had a row with Lucy."

Neville frowned sympathetically, patting the girl on the shoulder as the two began to part ways. "You two are thick as thieves, I'm sure you'll figure out a solution."

Anne nodded, not entirely concealing her disbelief. "Maybe. I'll see you later, then, I've got to get to potions early."

Neville waved as the girl walked down the hall and disappeared into the stairwell he had just left.

Had Frank not met Eleanor Bones, Neville would have bet on him marrying a Weasley. At least, he'd hoped that a Weasley marriage would be in his future. Neville liked Eleanor well enough, and was fine with their relationship (which had been going on since their fourth year), but couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret that Frank probably wouldn't be making his familial relationship with the Weasley and Potter families official. Neville supposed there weren't too many options anyway, as Victoire was obviously infatuated with Teddy Lupin and Dominique, as Neville saw it, hadn't even thought of dating once in her life. The rest of the Weasley women were far too young for Frank.

Neville headed out of the front doors to the castle and around the North tower towards the greenhouses and his own offices. He felt lucky to have landed such a great position at Hogwarts. He knew he was qualified – luck hadn't played a part there – but Pomona Sprout had been far from her own ideal retirement age (she had discussed this with Neville once during a particularly long night during sixth year while caring for some young worrisome fanged geraniums) when she decided to step down. She was an aged witch, for sure, but as far as pureblooded witches and wizards go, she was barely facing the end of her Act Two, the prime of her life.

The greenhouses had always been Neville's favorite spot on campus. The plants were beautiful, the sea-glass structure was beautiful, and he had always felt very safe, even in the presence of the more mature mandrake roots. He was very pleased that he now had the opportunity to show students the wonder and excitement that was herbology. In addition to that, he had also taken over the position of Gryffindor's Head of House, and had risen in ranks to Deputy Headmaster over the years. Pomona had left him with one task in her absence: the Hufflepuff common room had become somewhat accustomed to the plants she had been curating in the room, and someone would need to continue on with the practice. Neville continued this, and took the idea to the Gryffindor common rooms which had gone over with great success. He and McGonnagal had actually begun spiffing up the Gryffindor rooms, noticing that as all of the other houses changed subtly over time, the Gryffindor tower had barely seen any sort of renovation, however small, since its construction. They updated the furniture with a few refreshing spells here and there, and decided that it was time to do something with the ceiling of the common room, choosing to create a mural of the last four decades of Quidditch wins in true magical form, the scenes playing out as if they were a moving portrait. Often when Neville was in the tower he would wait around to see his friends, pointing out to any listening students that he remembered this match, or they almost didn't win this one, you see. Neville had become quite sentimental in his age.

Neville walked past greenhouse one, two, and three, and finally arrived at his office and personal quarters. A greenhouse itself, but shaped rather like an octagonal party tent instead of the rectangular shapes of the greenhouse classrooms, he was constantly tending to his own growing projects in his spare time. The entire first floor, which wrapped around a very large tree trunk, was his office and personal workspace. To access his personal quarters, one simply had to prod their wand into a rather large knot on the rather large tree trunk, which then opened into a dimly lit spiral staircase inside the tree, which was covered in bark as well. Carved into the bark on the inside of the tree was an etching every past Herbology Professor's face, and often they were mentioned as either the Hufflepuff or Gryffindor Head of House. There was one Slytherin, but no Ravenclaws. Neville's would appear at the dawn of his last year of teaching at Hogwarts, which was something he didn't yet understand but had a hunch that Pomona's etching was in part a reason for her early departure form the school. Neville entered the tree trunk and made his way up the spiral staircase, each step a free-floating slab of tree trunk. At the top, a veil of green vines magically parted to let him pass through.

The top of the grand tree was contained within the greenhouse structure, and took up most of the ceiling in all directions. Most of the furniture had been carved out of its ingrown branches – large trunks of wood that had grown outward and curved back in towards the room in its many years of growth. For instance, the large four-poster which sat against the trunk, was carved out of its largest branch. The shelves along the wall were made from the tree, as were the armoires, seating, and the large bath situated around the other side of the trunk. There were no windows, merely different living areas quartered off by the furniture. Neville hadn't changed much decoration from Pomona's residence until he married Hannah. They lived and raised their family in the apartment above the Three Broomsticks, which was quite cozy and Neville loved it, but there were several days of the week when Neville was required to stay at the castle. Upon Hannah's first visit to the greenhouse he had decided to redecorate a bit, finding that a change of house colors was in need.

Neville quickly changed into his classroom robes – a bit sturdier (and dirtier) than his regular robes – and switched into rubber boots as well. He made his way to greenhouse two as the fourth-year Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs were beginning to arrive. He waited for them to all filter in before handing out instructions.

"Right. Hullo everyone, hope you've had a decent week so far. We're going to be having a bit of a free period today, but you must be doing something, so that means you're helping me in the back with digging up the hellebore roots, clearing the knotgrass that's been growing along the gate path, or cutting down the mallowsweet stalks for Professor Firenze, but even before we all get to that, we're each going to pick two flutterby bushes and get to trimming, yes?"

The group nodded and retrieved shears from the storage cabinet. "Once your second task is done you have the rest of the period off." Neville raised his voice over the shallow chatter of the group. "Think about getting ahead on the homework that's due on Friday. Remember, fifteen inches on the magical properties of screechsnap and its various uses."

After overseeing the care of the flutterby bushes ("Ah ah ah, Mr. Trowley, remember: cutting too many stems past the fourth leaf can set the entire colony of bushes back half a century of growth.") and making sure enough people were setting out for each task, Neville made his way to the back of greenhouse two with a handful of his students. Sitting in two raised garden beds full of soil were two dozen nearly translucent red orbs, some with dashes of purple. He gathered the small group of students around the beds and leaned in, speaking quietly.

"Alright. The key to successfully digging up hellebore roots is to understand that the roots are actually the flower, and vice versa. These red pods are actually what the roots grow out of. The roots can be snipped off and the pods will continue to grow more, but if the pod is disconnected or harmed, the roots cannot regrow a pod. Does everyone understand?"

The group nodded.

"Right then. It's important to stay quiet, as loud noises can harm the pods' growth centers." Neville grinned, mostly to himself. "That's one of the main reason these are kept far away from the mandrake roots in greenhouse one."

Neville demonstrated how to dig around the pod and clip off the roots about halfway down, careful to cut below all of the nerve endings. Each student harvested roots from two or three pods each, which took about half of the regular class time, and turned the roots in to Neville. He thanked his group softly, wrapping the roots in a damp cheesecloth, and bid them a good day. He was about to begin the process of preserving them when a student came up behind him.

"Professor Longbottom?"

Neville turned around to find Molly Weasley standing behind him. "Molly! Are you alright? Weren't you out clearing the knotgrass?" Neville stretched his neck to find the other students along the gate path. They seemed to be doing fine.

Molly nodded. "I was, but I remembered that I had a question for you, and I didn't want to go on and forget."

Neville nodded, gingerly placing the hellebore roots in a drawer for safe keeping. "Go for it."

"I was wondering if you knew much about wandmaking or wandlore."

Neville frowned in thought. "I'm not sure I do, why do you ask?"

Molly shrugged, eyes glazing over with disinterest at the negative answer. "I just thought that wandmaking is probably closer to herbology than anything else, due to the wood being a defining characteristic of each wand."

Neville nodded. "That's quite astute. Now, I say I don't know much, but I do have a book about the different wand woods in my private quarters. Would you like to borrow it? I could bring it to lunch with me."

Molly nodded, cheering up a bit. "That would be great, thanks. See you later, Uncle Neville."

Neville gave a small wave as he watched the retreating student's back. After a sudden though, he called after her. "Molly, you might ask your Uncle Harry about stuff like that. If I'm not mistaken he knows a good bit about wandlore."

Molly nodded, looking over her shoulder as she continued up the hill. "Thanks! I will."

Neville took care of the hellebore roots before checking in on the other groups. They were mostly finished, with the mallowsweet being tied in bundles and stored in the cupboard, and the last of the knotgrass being raked into a large bag. He waited for the students to finish, thanked them for their work, and watched the last of them disappear up the hill. Neville made his way back to his office, sitting down at his desk and checking his watch. He had about twenty minutes until lunch began, which was just enough time to write a quick note to his wife.

Hannah,

I've got to stay up at the castle tonight. I've not done my rounds shift for a while and I'm feeling a bit guilty. I know no one minds, but still. I'll pop by in the morning for breakfast.

love you,

Neville

After sending the letter on its way with his owl Pudly, Neville went upstairs and changed back into his regular robes. He grabbed the book to loan to Molly and made his way back up to the castle and into the Great Hall. He scanned the contents of his house' table before settling on a short blonde-haired boy named Leigh. Neville walked over.

"Mr. Trowley."

The boy looked up. "Oh hullo, Professor. Is this about class? I know I skipped out a bit early but the others said it was fine to go to-

Neville shook his head, not even knowing what the boy was talking about. "No, you sit with Mrs. Weasley, right?"

Leigh grinned. "Which one? There's about a dozen."

Neville laughed. "Molly."

Leigh nodded, accepting the book from Neville.

"You'll give her that for me? I've got to go on up to the table."

Leigh nodded gain. "Absolutely."

"Thanks." Neville made his way up to the Head's table and took his place beside the Headmistress merely seconds before the house elves sent the food up. He poured himself a cup of tea.

"How is your day going, Neville?"

Neville nodded. "Decent. And yours, Pro- Minerva?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Well. It's always strange to find that even years later some of my colleagues still think of me as their professor."

Neville blushed. A few minutes later into the meal, Neville turned to his superior once more.

"Minerva, have you been looking at all of this news with the ICW?"

She nodded, cutting into a pork chop. "I have." She glanced around a bit, and leaned closer. "And I know for a fact the Ministry is already leaning towards action."

"Really."

"Truly, Mr. Longbottom." She gave a small grin with the formality. "I know of another fact as well, which is that the Ministry is hinting at the Order coming underneath ministry control."

Neville frowned, but was silent for a while.

"Personally, I'm not for it one bit. I've consulted with Albus, and he's not interested in it either."

Neville smiled at the older witch's mention of their old Headmaster and his portrait. They were lucky that he had commissioned it so near to his death. The portrait Albus had barely missed any information at all. While it was legions away from having the real person around, his vague advice was still considered carefully by most.

The afternoon classes flew by for Neville, treating first and second years to a free period similar to the one from the morning. The greenhouses and surrounding property were looking much better by the time the afternoon sun began disappearing behind the forest. After dinner, Neville strolled over to where Frank was sitting with Eleanor and some Weasleys at the Gryffindor table. He sat down, joining them with a bowl of ice cream in hand.

"Hullo everyone. Pleasant days?"

Everyone nodded, saying their hellos.

"Uncle Neville, I have a question."

"Yes, James."

"Say I knew someone that was looking for a particular plant for a … for a potions extra credit project. And," James continued, leaning diagonally across the table to get closer to Neville's face as he whispered. "say that particular plant was a little illegal."

Neville raised his eyebrows, scooping some ice cream out of the bowl. He hovered his spoon around at James' face while he spoke. "Let's say that a certain Professor was willing to search for this plant for a certain student. What would this professor be risking his position for?"

James grinned. "Alihotsy." James took Neville's spoon into his mouth and ate the ice cream sitting on it.

Fred rolled his eyes, grabbing James by the collar of his shirt and pulling him back into his seat. "Don't listen to the idiot, he's wanting to play a prank on Rose."

Neville frowned. "Well that's cruel."

James sighed. "She's the first Weasley Slytherin! We've got to do something."

"You could buy her a nice present and assure her that just because she's in a different house doesn't mean she's not a part of your family." Eleanor said wisely.

"She tripped you!" James shouted. "Why are you sticking up for her!"

"It was an accident and she even apologized." Victoire snapped.

James groaned and swiveled off the bench and went to leave the Great Hall.

Neville looked around at the bunch that was now laughing. "Its nice of you all to stick up for Rose. She's got to be feeling strange about the whole thing."

Fred shrugged. "She's eleven, there's no use in torturing her about it."

Frank laughed, elbowing his friend in the arm. He looked up at Neville. "Dad, this one here paid a seventh-year to turn all of her knickers red and gold."

Fred grinned and Neville rolled his eyes.

"But that's it! It's over." Fred laughed. "Thanks for telling on me." He said, elbowing Frank back but harder.

Neville sat with them for a few minutes while he finished his ice cream. Finally, he stood up to go. "I'm staying at the castle tonight, Frank. I'll be down in the greenhouse if you want to come by a bit before curfew."

Frank nodded. "Alright then. Can this idiot come along?" He gestured to Fred, who in turn tried to look angelic.

Neville agreed to it and went on back to his greenhouse.

Climbing the spiral staircase within the tree, he paused. There was definitely someone in his private rooms. He went on up, looking carefully through the vines. He stepped through.

"Hullo?"

"Oh, Neville, you're early!" Hannah exclaimed in exasperation. "I wasn't expecting you for another half hour. I was going to get all dressed up."

Nevill looked around his room at the soft lighting coming from over a dozen candles. He laughed, walking briskly to his wife and clasping his arms around her waist. Hannah was a well-aged witch, barely looking a day over twenty-five. The laughter lines around her mouth and eyes were the only things that gave her age away. Her sandy brown hair was cut neatly at shoulder length and her spritely blue eyes still lit up every time she laid eyes on Neville. He was a lucky bloke.

"Thought you would surprise me?" He asked, pulling her in for a soft kiss on the lips.

"I would have if you'd stay at dinner and be social!" She protested, but smiled. "I bought a new outfit and everything."

"You don't need an outfit." He said before closing the space between them once more, slyly slipping his hands down to cup his wife's buttocks.

She giggled, slipping her arms around his neck and standing on her tip-toes to deepen the kiss. A few seconds later she grasped the back of Neville's shirt (as he had discarded his robes by the door) and began to pull it over his head. "You don't need an outfit either, I think." She threw it behind him. They kissed again, Neville lifting his small wife up to rest on his hips, slinging her legs around him, as he carried her to his bed.

"It's strange to believe," he said as he set her down on the edge and dropped slowly to his knees.

"Wait," Hannah interrupted, leaning back to grab a pillow from the top of the bed. She handed it to Neville. "Your bad knee."

"Oh thanks." He shoved it underneath his legs. "Anyway, it's strange to believe that we've never done this here before."

Hannah frowned, running her hands up and down his arms that laid on either side of her on the bed. "Haven't we?"

Neville shook his head. "We've never done it at Hogwarts."

This made the brunette laugh, throwing her head back. "You sound like a teenager again. 'Have you ever, you know, done it?'"

He laughed, kissing up her leg, and murmured "You make me feel like a teenager again." And he knew that she understood he meant it in the best way possible.

It was fourth-year during the TriWizard tournament when he took Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball. They were dancing; it was almost a memory rather than a dream. She had looked stunning. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hannah sobbing in a chair with her face buried in her hands. He stepped back from Ginny and ran to her.

"What is it? What is it, love? Is it Ginny? I'm sorry, I didn't-

Hannah looked up, pointing back at Ginny and sobbing even harder.

Neville took her in his arms, repeating his apology until he heard Hannah whisper, "She's dead. They're all dead."

Neville frowned at his wife but looked up anyways. He fell back onto the floor. Everyone around him, including the girl he had just been dancing with, was lying glassy-eyed and bloody on the dance floor around him.

"They're all dead." Hannah screamed this time. "We're all dead."

Neville, laying on his back, looked up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. He watched as the enchanted starry sky grew closer and noticed a small shooting star cross the sky. The star changed colors, from yellow to purple to blue and then to green. Neville realized that the green shooting star was falling out of the sky and coming straight for him. He was paralyzed, he could do nothing but sit and wait as the bright green light came rushing towards him. He screamed out for Hannah, who had quieted. He couldn't look left or right – only directly into the star. Just as it was about to crash into him, he awoke with a gasp and sat straight up in the bed.

He blinked his eyes several times, trying to correct his blurry vision. He felt around in the dark, searching for his glasses on his bedside table. Finally with them on his face he looked down at his sleeping wife. His heart was still beating like crazy, so he stood and walked around the room, stopping by a window. His breathing and heart rate slowed as he looked out at the calm early-morning grounds. Off in the distance the Giant Squid was leisurely gazing out from the lake. The sky was nearly all a dusty blue, the only thing left of the night sky was settling near the horizon, preparing to fall into eternity. The stars were still out and he searched them, looking for Mars, which he knew was visible at this time of year. He blinked hard twice as he saw a shooting star graze slowly across the sky. He scratched his head trying to shake the remnants of the dream fade away.

"Neville?" Hannah called from the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing dear. Just woke up too early." Neville climbed back into the bed with Hannah, snuggling up to her and kissing her on the forehead. He finally fell back asleep, and when he did he dreamed peacefully of dancing with Ginny Weasley.