Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2007-08-08 17:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp fic exchanges and fests, hp fic luna/neville |
HP fic: Herbology [Luna/Neville, adult]
Title: Herbology
Author: celandineb
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Luna/Neville
Rating: adult
Summary: Neville gets an idea from an old Herbology book, and needs Luna's help.
Note: Written for cjmarlowe for the 2006 hp_springsmut exchange. Many thanks to exit_chrysalis and to jelazakazone for their quick onceovers.
Neville was always relieved to return to Hogwarts after the holidays. Not that he didn't love his Gran, of course. But going to see his parents at St. Mungo's never became any easier, no matter how old he was or how many times he made that visit.
The dormitory still seemed strangely empty without Harry, and Ron looked a bit lost. Seamus and Dean were down in the common room flirting with Romilda Vane and her coterie. Neville ventured, "Have a good holiday, Ron?"
"Yeah. Yours?"
"It was all right. Glad to be back, though."
"Just think, only a few months till we take our N.E.W.T.s and then we'll be leaving for good."
"Don't remind me," said Neville. He had no worries about Herbology, but both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms had been proving difficult. He was thankful that Professor McGonagall had not allowed him to try for a N.E.W.T. in Transfiguration – there was no chance he could have kept up. "Too bad Harry's not here to revive the D.A. It was great practice. Did you see him over Christmas?"
Ron muttered something indistinguishable, and Neville guessed that he had, but wasn't supposed to talk about it. He messed about with unpacking his trunk for a few more minutes. Ron was doing the same, shoving socks and pants and shirts quickly into drawers.
"See you at dinner." Ron headed out the door.
Just like last term. Anyone was better to hang about with than Neville. He was used to it but it gnawed at him nonetheless. It was nearly dinnertime, though, and after dinner he would go to the greenhouses. The success he had had with the Mimbulus mimbletonia had impressed Professor Sprout so much that she had put Neville in charge of several of the plants in greenhouse four this year.
He had talked Gran into letting him go alone to Diagon Alley after they had visited St. Mungo's, and had browsed around in Flourish & Blotts. Sitting dustily on a bottom shelf was a secondhand volume, Magickall herbes, a general historie of such trees fruites rootes and flours withe Advice on theyre Growthe and Usages. He had bought it, spending most of his Christmas Galleons to do so, and had spent the last few days of the holiday reading through the difficult print. The author, one Gerardus Johannis, proposed some very unusual ideas about how to make certain types of plants grow best.
Professor Sprout swore by dragon dung as the ideal fertilizer for nearly any magical plant, and most non-magical ones as well, but Johannis suggested that it was better to match the fertilizer to the conditions. Neville tucked the small volume into the pocket of his robes and went down to eat.
Greenhouse four was a good place to be alone. Neville enjoyed walking along the rows, slapping at the Venomous Tentacula when it tried to grab him, seeing which plants had done well and which needed some extra care. The Devil's Snare in the far corner was thriving behind the canvas that he had arranged to keep it from getting too much light, but the dittany looked peaky. Professor Sprout had warned him about that when he had divided it in November. He checked to make sure its soil was not too wet and moved on.
When he had seen that everything was in good shape, he pulled out his book and sat on the potting bench about halfway up, flipping through the pages.
"If a wizard wishes to have the best results from his potions," he read aloud, having found that the best way to cope with the difficult typeface and peculiar old spellings, "he should put some of himself into the constituent. That is to say, his own essence should be mixed with the water used to moisten these plants."
His own essence? Neville was not sure what that meant. His blood? The door to the greenhouse banged, and he looked up. He must have not latched it properly behind him when he came in.
Walking over to close it, he mulled over Johannis's words. Essence. Perhaps Hermione could help him, she always seemed to know such things, but he felt stubbornly that he wanted to work it out for himself.