21 May 2004

Minerva waited until Neville had made the very careful transfer of a Venomous Tentacula from one pot to another before she knocked on the door to the Greenhouses.

"Good evening, Neville," she said.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall. I'm afraid Professor Sprout's just gone home," Neville said, brushing the mud from his hands with a tea towel. "You might catch her in the staffroom if you're quick. She's only just left."

"I have just come from speaking with Pomona," Minerva said. "I came to speak with you if you're not in any rush? I hear you are leaving for Japan this week—to collect some erm—"

"Witch Hazel for our stores—and Helen would like a holiday. But we're not leaving until Friday," he added and smiled. "How can I help, Professor McGonagall?"

Minerva came to sit on the side of the table furthest away from the Tentacula's poisonous leaves, warily eyeing the plant which she had developed a particular aversion to following Elphinstone's accident. Although she did not want to come across as patronising, Minerva could not help herself from adding, "Do—be careful," when one of the tentacles came inching closer to Neville's bare arm.

Neville gently moved the Venomous Tentacula's arm away from his own, looking all the while quite unconcerned. "This one's had a small potion today so that I could re-bandage its arm. It won't be able to use its poison dart for at least another hour yet. It couldn't hurt a fly." He paused. "I can tell you're not convinced?"

Minerva pursed her lips slightly. "I am not the greatest admirer of the Venomous Tentacula," she admitted, and Neville moved the pot to a different table before sitting down again opposite Minerva. "I hope Pomona has not been tasking you with the most dangerous jobs these past few months?" Minerva said.

Neville smiled. "No, not a all," he said. "It's delicate and absorbing work. I find it quite interesting."

"I'm glad to hear it," Minerva said. "We are all very appreciative of the help, Neville, and I hope you know that your efforts teaching and caring for students' wellbeing have not gone unnoticed."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Neville said, and his cheeks went a little pink.

"Credit where credit is due," Minerva said seriously. "I gather, then, that you are still enjoying the role of classroom assistant?"

"Oh, very much! I can't deny that working with Luna abroad was an incredible experience. But while I was there helping her write her compendium of magical beasts, and trying to find Crumple-Horned Snorkacks—please don't ask," he added, and Minerva had to bite back a smile, "I realised that I much prefer being in a greenhouse working with plants instead. It's also quite nice to be able to talk all day about something you're interested in."

Minerva smiled. "Yes, it never tires," she agreed. "And while we are on the topic of students, and teaching," she said, now coming to the point in the conversation where she planned on revealing the true purpose of her visit to the Greenhouses at this time, "I hoped we could discuss the Teacher-in-Training position Pomona advertised on Monday. In particular, why your application was not among the many I received on my desk this morning?"

Neville's ears turned a pale shade of red, a trait, Minerva had noticed, he shared with Ron Weasley when embarrassed. "I gather this visit was more than just social?" he said, and he caught her eye. "More of an ambush, perhaps?"

"In a manner of speaking," Minerva admitted. "Your work and efforts here are highly commendable, Neville. I can assure you that Professor Sprout all but sings your praises. We all rather assumed that you would apply for the position, although it appears that we presumed wrong. Have we lost you to a role elsewhere?"

"No, not at all. I thought—I thought perhaps you would want someone more experienced," he said. "I haven't much experience working in schools, and hardly any teaching a class on my own."

"The position advertised is a Trainee position, Mr Longbottom; you will be learning from the best before Pomona retires. We are not expecting any prior experience. Although, I would like to point out that you have been working here for several months, and I am quite sure Pomona has told me that she has allowed you to lead the class on more than one occasion."

"Only for a little bit."

Minerva sighed. "Mr Longbottom if a role appears that you are interested in, it is always good practice to apply even if you are not certain if it will, or will not, be offered to you. Confidence in your own abilities is important, otherwise you will not get anywhere in life."

"Believe me, Professor McGonagall, that is what I have been trying to tell myself for the last few days. And now that I've finally changed my mind and managed to get a little more confidence, it's too late."

Minerva checked her pocket watch. "It is only 6 o'clock, Mr Longbottom," she pointed out. "The application deadline is at midnight, which leaves you a few hours still. Quite enough time, I believe, to put together a satisfactory application. Don't you think?"

Neville sat up a little straighter, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Really?"

"I am not the one you should be asking, Mr Longbottom," Minerva said smoothly. "Do you think it will be possible?"

"I should think so," he said.

"Excellent." Minerva waved her wand and a piece of parchment materialised on the table separating them. "If you are interested in the role, I expect to have this completed before the deadline or I will not be able to consider it."

She indicated that Neville should take the paper, and she was pleased when he did.

"All of the questions will need to be answered, in full, Mr Longbottom. Should you want to submit your application after all, bring the completed form to my office or leave it in my pigeon-hole in the staffroom."

Neville nodded enthusiastically. "I will, Professor McGonagall."

"I am glad to hear it," Minerva replied. She picked up her cane and stood up. "Professor Sprout has said you are welcome to use her office in the meantime."

Neville was already up, his briefcase, wand, and application paper all gathered up in his arms. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he said, and Minerva could tell that he meant it.

"No thanks required, Mr Longbottom," she said. "Have a productive evening, and I shall see you tomorrow morning."