InsaneJournal

Fest Fic: The Trouble with Accepting Bribes, Neville, PG
Title: The Trouble With Accepting Bribes
Author: gestaltrose
Prompt: How/why Neville gets recruited to be the new Herbology professor. Fluff if there's a pairing, gen is fine too, silliness appreciated. Pinkelephant42
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Word Count: 542 good things come in small packages
Warnings (if any): bribery, overuse of quotation marks, manipulative Minerva, improper use of Hagrid
Author's Notes (if any): I had fun writing this. I think I covered the prompt but I’m not sure how silly it is. I did try.


“Please?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.

“Please?”

“No, Minerva. For the last time and no giving me your kitty eyes. They don’t work on me.”

“Fine. Tell me why?” she asked.

“Uh, let’s see. . .no training, small children with dangerous plants, no training, Mandrakes, no training. Need I go on?” he said sarcastically.

“No, that’s fine. So your main concern is lack of training?”

“And the other things.”

“Let me think,” she said.

“Oh, I’ll wait all day.”

“No need to be sarcastic. I still remember having you in my class.”

“Well, you remember having most of the teacher’s here in your class,” he retorted.

“Sarcasm does not become you.”

“I think it becomes me quite well.”

“Does that mean you accept?”

“No.”

“Damn, thought I had you.” She snapped her fingers.

“Nice try.”

“So what if I found someone to teach you. Would you teach then?”

“Who?”

“Someone.”

“Why did you wave your hands when you said that?”

“I did not.”

“You did too. You don’t have anyone to teach me, do you?”

“To be honest?”

“No, I want you to lie to me. Minerva, could we just hurry this up? I’ve got an interview for an apprentice position with the local potion maker.”

“What? You were always pants at potions.”

“Yeah, thanks to Snape. I thought I would try to learn from someone else.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

“What?”

“Your emphasis on learn. I do have someone to teach you.”

“If you do, you just thought of it.”

“Mock me if you must, boy.”

“Who is it then?”

“Hagrid.”

“Hagrid? What about whoever taught last year?”

“That would be Hagrid,” she said.

“What? Have you gone insane, woman? His Care of Magical Creatures class was survivable. If you were lucky. I love the big guy and everything but you want to talk about someone being pants at something.”

“True, true.”

“Why are you nodding that way? Did you put something in the tea?” he asked.

“Why, no. I would never. . .”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. So how many fatalities did you have last year?”

“None, and I resent you suggesting that it might have happened,” she said.

“With Hagrid teaching Herbology?” he asked.

“Well, there might have been a couple of students that ended up in St. Mungos. However, no one died.”

“I knew it!”

“So Hagrid is not teaching that again and we need someone. Desperately.”

“I can see that. Hagrid? I wonder what his class consisted of. . . ’Here, you hold this Bubotuber but don’t squeeze that. . . well, blimey I was a little late in warning you wasn’t I?’”

“You do a great Hagrid,” she said.

“I do try, dear lady.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“First tell me, why me?” he asked.

“I really need some one who is brilliant with plants. Oh, and I’ve got a case of Seven Herb Wine around here somewhere.”

“Tudor vintage?”

“Of course.”

“Well, then. That’s different. Seven Herb, you’re sure?”

“You’ll do it then?”

“Bribe me with illegal herbal wine? Yeah, I guess I will.”

“Good then. Could you sign here, please.”

“Why?”

“Because, now that’s over I can tell you. . . that I need your lesson plan by Wednesday, Neville.”

“What? Wait! Minerva, come back here!”