WC: 986

Prompt: Write about a character doing homework for your subject [Muggle Studies]

Extra Prompts: Procrastinate (word), Throw (word), "This is the most fun I've ever had." (dialogue)

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, distracting Neville from the homework that he was trying to complete. Trying was the operative word, since his head was resting on his left arm whilst his other arm was twirling his quill between his fingers.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, his head lifting sharply as he looked at the witch. "I need you!" he blurted.

She blinked, taken aback, and he blushed as he registered his words.

"I didn't mean-"

She chuckled, interrupting his spluttering. "It's okay, Neville," she reassured. "What do you need me for?"

"Muggle studies," he sighed, moving his parchment closer to his friend as she pulled out a chair and joined him at the table. "I'm trying," he told her. "I am just really struggling to understand how buses work." He glared at the parchment. "And then I have to discuss metal planes and trains and metal cans that go underwater."

"Submarines," she informed him absent-mindedly, looking over his notes and what he'd already jotted down. It wasn't a lot.

"Would you be able to help me? Please?" he begged.

"Sure," Hermione agreed. Some of the curls that had escaped her ponytail flew around her face as she nodded. Neville thought she looked cute and promptly blushed as that thought filtered through his head. "It can be confusing even once I've explained it," she warned. "Some children and even adults struggle, so don't be too concerned if you do too."

Neville huffed out a sigh, his body sagging with relief. Hermione chuckled quietly in amusement; that was exactly how she felt coming into this world and having all these old-fashioned Wizarding customs thrown at her.

"So, buses," she started, mulling the words over in her head to decide on the best way of explaining it. Even though, to her, buses were simple, it astounded her that to others they aren't. Then again, she did struggle with the concept of the floo network when first introduced to it, and still does five years later. "Explain to me what you know."

"They're big cars," he began, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt. He didn't want to offend her by saying something wrong! He knew how good she was with a wand. "They hold a lot more people than average cars, and you pay to get on."

"Well done," she congratulated, beaming at him. "In theory, buses are big cars. They're what we call public transport, which is something that anyone and everyone can use. They hold a lot more seats, and yes, you do pay to get on. It takes you to where you want to go."

"So, it's exactly like the Knight Bus?" he asked, curiously. He bit back a sulk when she shook her head in the negative.

"Close," she said. "The Knight Bus literally takes you to wherever you want to go and picks you up from where you are the moment you call it. Muggle buses, however, have a whole load of routes where each bus goes in a specific direction and has designated spots to stop at."

Neville nodded, understanding her explanation and the image he was creating in his head. The picture in the book that she was showing him - when had she gotten that out? - also helped explain.

"Why the money, though?" he questioned.

"Because it is a service. If I wanted my clothes tailored at Madam Malkin's, I'd still pay her because she's doing a job for me. The bus drivers are taking me from one place to another, so it doesn't come free."

"It does for kids and old people," he pointed out, his brow furrowed. He didn't understand why they didn't have to pay!

"That's true," she agreed. "I, myself, don't know why they don't have to pay, but in my mind, the children can't drive cars yet, and some elderly people never learnt to drive. Some can't drive anymore either, due to medical reasons. I suppose that makes it fair." She paused, chewing over her next words. "Professor Dumbledore doesn't go out and play Quidditch like the students here do."

Neville grinned at her, the smile bordering a smirk. "You just insinuated that Professor Dumbledore was old," he whispered conspiratorially. She scowled at him playfully, moving to throw a piece of scrunched up parchment at him, but he held his hands up in surrender, ducking when the parchment sailed over his head. "Okay, okay," he acquiesced. "So, anything else about buses that I should know?"

"Not that I can think of," she told him, and he thanked her before snatching up his quill from the desk and scribbling out the words onto the parchment, the flow of the assignment coming extremely easier than before. "When is the assignment due?" she asked, filling in the silence that was only broken by the scratch of the quill.

"Tomorrow," he admitted, blushing. He shrugged at her pointed look but didn't act too embarrassed as he saw her eye roll. "I managed to procrastinate for as long as possible, but I knew it had to be done."

"Why didn't you ask for help sooner? Or asked Dean?"

"Ask Dean?" Neville snorted. "He can barely do his own homework," he pointed out. "He'd have no time to sit down and help me do mine."

She laughed and watched as he finished putting the finishing touches on his buses segment. "Okay, now, on to trains."

"Thanks a lot, Hermione," Neville said, packing away his supplies whilst Hermione did the same to hers. "You're a life saver."

"You're welcome," she told him. "I'm sorry it was so boring."

"No way!" he argued. "This was the most fun I've ever had." He took note of her sceptical eyebrow. "Doing homework, that is," he amended. He watched as she muffled a laugh in her hands. "If I need help again-"

"You can come to me," she interjected, smiling sweetly up at him. "I'm always happy to help."

Thanks to ilprincipino for beta'ing.