Mnemonsyne FIC (repost): The Way Things Grow (Neville/Draco,PG), 2/2
Title: The Way Things Grow
Author: Mnemonsyne (reposted here with her permission)
Rest of header information in Part One


With Draco visiting Neville's parents every day and Neville coming on the weekends, they were bound to overlap a bit. He thought Draco was now doing it on purpose, as Draco had been coming here for a year and they'd never managed to run into each other before. Neville didn't really mind. They'd talk a while, then Draco would leave and let Neville talk to his parents alone.

So when he went in to see his parents on a Sunday afternoon, Neville expected Draco to be there. What he did not expect was to find Draco sitting on the floor with his mother as they folded gum wrappers, both of them caught in a sunbeam that turned Draco's hair into a golden halo and gave his skin an unearthly glow.

Staring at Draco's profile, Neville felt his heart turn over.

Draco turned to see what Neville's mum was looking at and smiled up at Neville. "Hi."

Weakly, Neville smiled back. "Er… looks like that potion seems to be helping a bit."

"Yes, she's much better this week than she has been," Draco said, looking proud. He patted the floor and Neville sat down. "Using the black hellebore was a great idea. We've sent our results to the Americans, crediting you, of course."

"Thanks," Neville said. He could feel his ears turning pink, less a reaction to the compliment than to the warmth he could feel emanating from Draco. Subtly he tried to shift more towards his mum, leaning in to take the gum wrapper she offered. "Thanks, Mum."

Draco began rambling on about additives and the hellebore and what he was going to try next, while Neville nodded absently in agreement and tried not to stare too hard at Draco. He couldn't keep himself from stealing occasional glances, but he managed to focus most of his attention on his mum. They folded gum wrappers together, making funny and strange shapes out of the crisp foil.

Absorbed in creating a small person out of wrappers, Neville failed to notice that the talking had stopped until he felt a touch on his knee. He jumped, then blushed furiously as Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"My apologies," Draco said, rising to his feet with a natural grace. His face looked oddly blank. "I must be going."

"You have to go?" Neville asked. It didn't feel like it had been that long since Neville had arrived, but maybe he'd lost track of time. It wouldn't be the first time. He felt bad that he'd been ignoring Draco just to ease his own sudden discomfort around the other man.

Draco's face seemed to soften a bit. "I've had a thought about the oils used in the potion and I want to try something. I'll see you tomorrow for tea."

"Okay." Neville was getting a crick looking up at Draco, so he turned his attention back to the half-formed gum wrapper person. "I can't have tea on Tuesday – commission to create a garden – but I'll be there tomorrow."

Something touched Neville's hair, teasing the curling ends, but when Neville looked up, only Draco was standing there. Probably just a movement of air from a door opening somewhere, or perhaps the window had been opened a crack, letting in a tiny breeze. Neville reminded himself once again to see about getting his hair cut.

Realizing that he had let his thoughts wander while staring up at Draco, Neville gave the other man a quick smile and bent his head back down. His mum giggled softly to herself and reached over to take the unfinished person from Neville's fingers.

"See you tomorrow, Neville." Draco sounded amused and… sad, which didn't really make sense to Neville.

"Bye, Draco." When Neville finally decided to look up, Draco was gone. A happy sound from his mum brought Neville's attention back to her. She had two little gum wrapper people now. Their pointy arms touched, almost like they were holding hands.

---

Monday's tea was a disaster. Neville dropped everything, the mandrake infants were teething, and Draco was unremittingly sexy during everything he said or did.

Though Neville supposed that last problem was more his own fault than Draco's. Fervently thanking whatever impulse had led him to put on loose robes, Neville ran to renew the Silencing Spells around the mandrakes while Draco cleaned up the tea Neville had accidentally poured on Draco's lap when the other man had smiled at him.

"Everything okay?" Draco asked.

Neville sat down on his side of the folding bed, back up against the wall as he drew his knees up, wrapping both arms around his legs. "I think so. Sometimes I wish mandrakes weren't so profitable. They're such a pain to grow."

Draco looked sympathetic as he handed over a cup of tea.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's really worth it," Neville admitted. He took a sip of tea. "Gran wants me to do something more… I don't know, distinguished? The Prophet ran that article about why the hero that killed Nagini felt the need to become a gardener, and speculated that I was using the sword of Gryffindor as a spade. I feel exhausted half the time, doing this on my own…"

"But you love it," Draco said.

Neville smiled at him. "Yeah. I do."

"Then you're doing the right thing." Draco set down his cup and leaned toward Neville. "I think… I think that what you love is very important, and you shouldn't let anyone tell you something else is better for you."

"I know," Neville said. He drained his tea, then stared at the leaves in search of familiar shapes. He had never been very good at Divination though, so he set the cup aside. "Sometimes I think it would be better if I loved something more impressive. Or at least easier."

Draco gave an odd half-smile. "I suspect everyone thinks that at one point or another."

"Would you rather not be doing the research?"

"Mostly I enjoy it. I like working with potions, and my colleagues are decent people," Draco said. He seemed to curl in on himself and his voice became softer. "I think. . . sometimes I hope I'm the one who makes people think of potions and cures when they hear the name Malfoy, instead of Death Eater."

Hesitantly, Neville reached out to touch Draco's hand, much as Luna had touched his at The Three Broomsticks. "I think if anyone could do that, you could."

Draco turned his hand to catch hold of Neville's, and they sat there for a moment. Draco's hand was even paler against Neville's skin than Luna's had been, and the fingers were long and almost spidery. There were little rough areas on his skin – not calluses, but maybe places where potions had splashed or hot stirring rods had touched.

"Neville?"

At the sound of someone calling from the greenhouse, Neville dropped Draco's hand and leapt to his feet, trying to remember if someone was supposed to drop by.

"Were you expecting someone?" Draco asked, standing up as well.

Neville shook his head and went out into the greenhouse. His heart sank as he saw Harry, hands shoved in his pockets as he peered at the Silenced infant mandrakes.

"Harry?"

Harry turned around with a grin. "Neville!"

Neville was glad that Harry was starting to drop by again, like he used to, but he really wished Harry had better timing.

The happy, open look on Harry's face changed to one of shock, and Neville realized Draco must have come out of the office. Neville glanced back to find Draco in full sneering aristocrat mode and sighed. This was probably going to be unpleasant.

To Neville's surprise, however, Draco simply looked at him, ignoring Harry, and said, "I'll see you Wednesday, then?"

"Yes, Wednesday," Neville said.

He watched as Draco made his way around tables and scattered planters, pointedly not looking down. The odd behaviour puzzled Neville a moment, until he realized Draco was trying to show Harry how well he knew the greenhouse and its scattered accoutrements, thereby easily revealing how many times he had been here, as opposed to Harry. Neville felt the urge to grin, but carefully pushed it down as he turned back to Harry.

"What was that about?" Harry demanded.

"Draco usually stops by for tea," Neville said calmly. "Do you want to see. . ."

"Tea? You're. . . you're. . ."

"I believe the word you're searching for is friends," Neville said, then winced at the sharpness of his tone.

Harry just gaped at him. "Friends? With Draco Malfoy?"

"He's changed since school. Just like the rest of us have," Neville said

"Changed," Harry said. "Well, that's one way of putting it. Did you know. . .?"

"Yes, I know. I don't have a problem with that," Neville said, interrupting Harry before he could continue. He reached out to grab a pair of pruning shears, needing something to do with his hands before he did something stupid. Like punch the hero of the Wizarding World.

"Look, Neville," Harry said, apparently deciding to take a different tack. "I know he's helping with that research team that's trying to discover a cure for your parents. But people have tried for a cure for years. You don't have to be friends with him just because of that, because it's not really likely that he'll be the one to discover a cure."

About to head toward the Devil's Snare, Neville gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn back toward Harry. Sensing his anger, the plants around them pulled away, and Neville tried to relax so he wouldn't scare them too badly.

"It's nice to know what you think of me, Harry. I had no idea you thought I was so stupid as to fall for some machination on Draco's part." Eyes wide, Harry opened his mouth, but Neville continued, refusing to let Harry say anything else. "The truth is that I had no idea Draco was working on the cure until I ran across him in my parent's room at St. Mungo's. I was polite to him, I offered him plants for his research, and yes, after a while, we became friends. He can be rude and moody and insulting, but he can also be funny and kind and caring, when he wants to be. He's no better or worse of a person than any of us."

Harry seemed even more anxious to convince him, and attacked from yet another angle. "But don't you remember him in school? He. . ."

"Oh, grow up," Neville said, suddenly more tired than angry. "You did some stupid things in school, too. Life isn't school, and maybe if you bothered to talk to Draco, you'd realize that he's not who he used to be. He doesn't believe things blindly anymore. Which is more than can be said for you."

Instead of responding, Harry turned and walked away, and Neville wondered if he'd just traded one friend for another. Or, knowing Harry's influence, several friends for one.

Strangely, he couldn't find it in him to regret anything he'd said.

---

Neville had been working in Ron and Hermione's garden for several hours by the time Hermione came home. She appeared by his side with a glass of lemonade, then conjured a cushion and settled down beside him. Unsurprised that Hermione wanted to talk, Neville simply thanked her for the lemonade and waited for her to begin.

"I'm sorry about Harry," Hermione said, clasping her hands together in her lap. "He gets very… determined about things sometimes. But I hope you know that he really cares for you, and he only meant the best. He wasn't trying to say you were stupid or anything. It's just he gets so protective of his friends."

Neville carefully patted the dirt in place around the Singing Roses, which trilled softly at him in response. "Harry needs to apologize to me himself if he's really sorry. Which I doubt he is."

"I know," Hermione said, biting her lip. "I wasn't trying to apologize for him. I just felt bad that he said those things to you and made you upset."

"I am glad to know that you're not going to walk out on me just because Draco and I are friends," Neville said. "Pass me that bucket?"

Hermione reached behind her and pulled the bucket forward. "I would never walk out on you, and neither would Harry. Or Ron. We're just worried."

"First, Harry did walk out on me yesterday after I told him to grow up. Second, you pick strange things to worry about. You didn't seem too worried about leaving all of us with Snape and the Carrows during seventh year, but you're concerned about me having tea with Draco and discussing plants and potions that might help my parents?"

"We didn't. . . " Hermione looked horrified. "Neville, we did worry about you when we found out, but we had so much going on that year…"

"I know," Neville said. "But the thing is, we all took care of ourselves that year. We all survived the cuts and bruises and Crucios. I don't need someone picking which friends are safe for me."

Hermione was quiet for a moment. "Neville, he's an ex-Death Eater Pureblood. . ."

"Whose thoughts and beliefs have radically changed since he was younger," Neville replied. "Draco and I have talked about this, Hermione. It was important to me to find out these things before moving past being colleagues and into being friends. Like I told Harry, I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were," Hermione whispered, looking upset.

"Then maybe you should offer me the courtesy of being able to choose my friends for myself."

"Yes, you're right," Hermione said, nodding. "I am sorry."

"I know," Neville said, and took a steadying breath. "Now do you want yellow or peach roses here?"

"Yellow, I think."

Neville reached for the yellow rosebush and noticed that there was movement inside the house. Ron was home, but clearly didn't want to come out to say hello to Neville.

"Ron home?"

There was an awkward moment before Hermione admitted that he was.

"He's just really confused about the whole Draco thing, Neville," she said. "A bit angry too. He just knows Harry's upset and doesn't understand."

"No one's saying that he and Harry – or you – need to be friends with Draco. I'm not forcing anyone to be around him. I'm not inviting him to The Three Broomsticks." Neville pushed the last of the dirt into place and sat back, brushing off his hands on his jeans. "Even Gran just lectured a bit, then settled down. She's talked to him since the war. She's even invited him to the house, and she wouldn't do that if she thought he was a bad person."

"We don't think he's bad," Hermione said quickly. "We just think. . . I mean. . . it just seems like it's very odd that he suddenly wants to be good friends with one of the heroes of the war."

"Anything to help the Malfoy name?" Neville asked, pushing down his irritation. "I know that his father is trying hard to restore their name, but it's not as though Draco is flaunting our friendship. We usually have tea at the greenhouses or visit my parents. Every once in a while, we'll go out to dinner. It's not like we're posing for the Prophet every other day."

He got up and began gathering his things together. "Look, Hermione. I know you think you're helping me, but you're not. I'm not going to change my mind about this, or stop being friends with Draco just to please you and Ron and Harry."

Hermione looked distressed as she helped him put all his tools and leftover plants in a box. "We just want you to think about this. We're not asking you to stop being friends with him."

"Yes, you are," Neville said. He offered her a hand up, then tucked the box under his arm.

"But there's more," Hermione said, looking distressed. "I was in Flourish and Blotts and. . ."

"I know," Neville said. "Draco told me."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip. "I thought maybe. . ."

"My virtue was in danger?" Neville asked, raising a sardonic eyebrow. "I'm touched."

Hermione blushed furiously. "No, I just. . . I'm sorry."

"I'll see you later." Neville said, now trying not to laugh. "Let me know if you need any more help with the garden."

"Thanks, Neville," Hermione said. She gave a little wave good-bye as Neville turned on the spot and Apparated back to the greenhouses.

---

The following morning, Draco surprised Neville by showing up in the farthest greenhouse at midmorning. Noticing that Draco carried a small piece of parchment and looked worried, Neville grew concerned.

"Is everything ok? Did something happen?"

"Just me getting letters from your friends 'requesting' that I stay away from you," Draco said, thrusting the letter at Neville.

Brushing off his hands, Neville took it and scanned the brief, but pointed, message scrawled in Harry's familiar handwriting.

"I'm sorry. I've told both Harry and Hermione that they have no right to pick my friends, but. . ." Neville shrugged.

"Good," Draco said, looking relieved. "I didn't know if you'd want to. . . I mean, they're your friends, and I'm just. . . I don't know."

"You're my friend too," Neville said. He shoved the parchment into his pocket. Maybe now would be a good time to repay that dinner Draco had bought for him. "I'm done here for now. Let's go to lunch."

Draco looked pleased. "Where to?"

"Let's go. . . " Neville paused as an idea came to him. "Let's go to the Leaky."

"The Leaky?" Draco said. He seemed doubtful, but shrugged in acquiescence. "If that's what you want."

Within fifteen minutes, they were sitting at a table in the middle of the pub where everyone could see them. On a whim, Neville lit the stump of a candle that sat on the table between them.

"A candlelit lunch at The Leaky Cauldron. Be still my heart," Draco said dryly.

Neville laughed, and they fell into a comfortable silence. The food arrived, but Draco didn't pay any attention to it.

"Neville, what are we doing here?" Draco said.

"Having lunch," Neville said cheerfully, tucking in.

Draco sighed, and turned his attention to his meal. A few moments later the door banged open and a group of Auror trainees, including Harry and Ron, came in, laughing and talking loudly among themselves. Draco, who was facing the door, froze, then looked at Neville.

"I thought you were the consummate Gryffindor, and yet here you are, being all cunning," Draco said with a smirk.

"I do have my moments," Neville said.

He grinned at Draco as the group of trainees sat at a large table to their left, with Harry and Ron taking seats that gave them a clear view of Neville and Draco. Finishing up his shepherd's pie, Neville leaned back in his seat and stretched out his legs. The parchment crinkled in his pocket, and Neville pulled it out and played with it for a moment to make sure Harry and Ron noticed. Draco was looking at him curiously, and Neville grinned again, then put the corner of the parchment into the candle flame. In less than a minute, the letter was ashes.

Neville looked over to see Harry giving him a hurt look, while Ron simply looked confused, glancing back and forth between Neville and Harry. He felt a slight pang, but quashed it by reminding himself that they had inserted themselves into his friendship with Draco without being asked. If they stopped being friends with him, that was their choice, but he refused to be controlled by them.

"Ready to go?" Neville asked, seeing that Draco had finished his meal.

"I suppose," Draco said. "Have you accomplished what you needed to?"

Neville smiled, feeling his heart beat faster when Draco smiled back. "For now."

---

Neville tucked the heavy box more securely under his arm, then rapped on the laboratory door. Draco hadn't had time to pick up the hellebore and other plants Neville supplied, so he'd offered to drop them off.

An older, dark-haired man in lab robes and gloves answered the door and waved Neville in.

"You must be Neville," he said. "I'm Paul Harrison. Just. . ."

A chime sounded and Harrison moved quickly toward a door at the other end of the room, pointing at a mostly empty table near Neville. Moving to the table, Neville set down the box and stood waiting for someone to come back out. He'd just decided to leave the box where it was, when Draco came out of the same door Harrison had gone into.

"Hi!" Draco said. He looked tired, but smiled and seemed happy to see Neville.

"Bad time?"

Draco shook his head. "It's just calmed down. The potions need to simmer for an hour, and one of us can watch over them. So Harrison and I each get half an hour for dinner."

"25 minutes now," Harrison said with a grin, as he stuck his head out to the door. He winked at Neville. "Go on, go home, freshen up and eat something. Just be back on time so I can run home too."

"I will," Draco said. He turned to Neville. "Want to come over for some takeaway? It'll have to be quick…"

"Sure," Neville said, grinning as Harrison made shooing motions behind Draco's back.

Harrison ducked back into the room, presumably to check on the potions, and Draco opened his arms so that he could Side-Along Neville to his flat. They appeared in the corner of Draco's living room, and Neville looked around.

"Nice place," Neville said, admiring the bright, open room.

"Thanks," Draco said. "If you want to Floo for curry or something, there's menus and Floo addresses on the side table. I'll just hop in the shower while you do that, if you don't mind. Feel free to look around all you want."

"Okay," Neville called after Draco's retreating back. He watched a minute as Draco disappeared into what was probably the bedroom, or maybe the bathroom, then went to pick up the menus.

One quick Floo-call later, and Neville was free to wander around the flat. Digging through the kitchen cupboards and drawers produced butterbeer and utensils, and Neville set them on the counter, ready for when the food arrived.

The kitchen was mostly bare, aside from the essentials, so Neville went back into the living room. Tall bookcases lined the walls opposite large windows; there wasn't much other furniture aside from a couch and several small tables, but it looked nice.

A slim hand appeared in the Floo holding a large bag, and Neville hurried to take it and pay the delivery witch. Setting the bag on one of the tables, Neville went to the room Draco had disappeared into and knocked on the door.

"It's here," Neville said through the door, right before it opened.

Draco was dressed only in a pair of trousers, hair still wet from his quick shower. Neville blinked in surprise as Draco grabbed a t-shirt off the bed and headed toward the food, pulling the shirt on as he went. Distracted by the smooth, pale line of Draco's back, it took Neville a moment to follow.

"I got curry," Neville said, as though Draco couldn't smell the spices.

Draco just smiled. "Perfect."

Neville summoned the bottles of butterbeer and forks as Draco opened the bag and began pulling out containers. In short order, they each had a container and were eating hungrily.

"Delicious," Draco sighed, taking a moment to drink his butterbeer. "We had to skip lunch today, so I'm starving."

"Do you have to do that often?"

"A couple times a month," Draco said, setting his nearly empty container aside. "There's one potion that really can't be left, by either of us, for around eight hours."

"Wow," Neville said, impressed. "I can work in the greenhouses for hours on end, but nothing usually requires me to work non-stop like that."

Draco smiled. "Just part and parcel of potions. Severus always complained that no one realized or appreciated how much extra time he put into supplying Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore, in addition to teaching, but he loved actually making the potions. He taught me my first potion when I was five."

"So it's all thanks to Snape that you're involved in this research," Neville said, not unaware of the irony.

"Yes," Draco said with a laugh. "He'd have some snide comments to make about everything, but Merlin, I wish he were here to make them."

"Me too, if only for your sake," Neville said. He set aside his curry as Draco grew more serious.

"I know you didn't get along," Draco said. "At the end, though. . . our last year. He respected you. I didn't know if you knew that."

Neville felt his chest grow tight, and he looked down at his hands. "No, I didn't."

"He had to hide a lot of things he thought, especially that year." Draco's arm moved to the back of the couch, and his fingers brushed Neville's shoulder. "But he had this little smirk he'd get whenever the Carrows complained about Dumbledore's Army… it made me wish I'd had the courage to make some different decisions."

"The past is the past," Neville said softly, looking over at Draco. "It's hard to know what might have happened if you'd made other choices. Maybe you'd have killed the snake, or died in the final battle. Maybe you wouldn't be researching cures for my parents. Maybe we wouldn't be friends."

"Well, now," Draco said with a gentle smirk. "We couldn't have that now, could we?"

"Of course not," Neville said. He smiled as Draco reached up and tugged gently on a lock of Neville's hair. "Time to go?"

Draco looked regretful. "Probably. Thank you for eating with me."

"My pleasure. See you in two days?"

"Yes," Draco said, nodding. "The tricky potions should be done by then, and I'll be free to drop by the greenhouses again."

"I'll be there," Neville said as they got up.

Draco smiled, summoning his lab robes as Neville banished the remains of their meal and sent the forks to the sink. "You always are."

"True," Neville said, laughing. "My home away from home."

Impulsively, Neville leaned over and hugged Draco. "Snape was proud of you, too. We all saw it. And I think he'd be even more proud of you now."

Draco clung to Neville for a long moment, then pulled away slowly.

"I'd better go," Draco said, voice husky. "Stay here as long as you like."

Neville nodded, and watched as Draco Apparated away. The flat felt too empty without Draco, so Neville turned and Apparated back to the greenhouses. He was sure he could find something to keep himself busy until he could see Draco again.

---

The Irchwinder was growing. Neville looked away, blinked a couple times, then looked back just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. No, there it was. A tiny, green shoot poking up from the soil. Grinning in delight, Neville went to get a small lattice to insert in the soil. According to Luna, it would be a climbing vine.

When he got back to the pot with the lattice, the vine was several inches long. Apparently it was one of those magical plants. He went back and got a bigger lattice.

The vine continued to grow as Neville set up the lattice and guided the plant through the holes. Sitting back on his heels, he watched in fascination as the vine stretched upwards, then sprouted other tendrils that twined rapidly around the latticework. Tiny leaves unfurled and grew to the size of Neville's palm in mere moments. When the lattice was covered, the plant finally slowed its growth, then stopped. He could see small buds where flowers would bloom, but they were still shut tight.

Incredible. Neville couldn't stop grinning at the fact that he'd seen this rare magical plant just… burst into growth in front of him. He clapped a hand to his head when he realized that Luna had missed it all. Of course, had he not been here at the right moment, he could have missed it too.

"I'll send her an owl," Neville said to himself.

"Send who an owl?"

Neville nearly jumped out of his skin, and he whipped around to see a bemused Pansy Parkinson standing behind him. He stood up, stumbling a little over his own feet, but the expected mockery of his clumsiness didn't come.

"Miss Parkinson. What can I help you with?" Neville gave her a tentative smile. He decided it was better not to offer his rather dirty hand.

"Call me Pansy, please," she said. "I'm afraid I don't need any plants at the moment. I'm here to discuss Draco."

Neville suddenly felt ill, and Pansy's eyes went wide.

"He's fine!" She reached out and patted his arm. "Nothing's wrong, I just… need to talk to you."

"Okay," Neville said, taking a deep breath as relief washed over him. "Okay. Um. Tea? The office is too small, but I can bring the kettle and cups out to the lawn… like a picnic."

"That's acceptable," Pansy said. "I'll wait for you outside."

Neville watched her walk toward the door, wondering what she wanted to talk to him about, then shook himself and ran to get the kettle.

When he came outside, levitating the blue teapot he'd managed to find, Neville saw that she had conjured a blanket and a small table for the tea things. His hands were filled with the cups, sugar bowl and milk pitcher, so Pansy plucked the teapot out of the air and set it on the table.

"Wandless levitation? Not bad."

He smiled as she reached out to rescue the precariously tilting sugar bowl. "I've had to learn it. My hands are often full of pots and plants, and when I need to move something else or rescue a falling plant, wandless magic is all I've got."

"There must be more to Herbology than I thought," Pansy mused as Neville sat down across from her. Oddly, she was fixing his tea just the way he liked it. "Still, I can't say I'd be fond of playing in dirt most of the day."

"Well, if everyone liked it, I'd be out of a job," Neville said. He took the proffered cup and waited until she'd fixed her own before taking a sip. "Perfect. Thank you."

"Yes, well, I ought to know," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. She set her cup down with a definitive clink. "Which brings me to today's topic of discussion."

"Draco?"

"Precisely." Pansy folded her arms and stared at him. "I've heard about that ridiculous letter Potter sent."

Neville sighed. "I told Draco not to worry about that. I don't let them choose my friends for me."

"Good. Regardless, I thought it was time you heard from the other side."

"Other side?" Neville asked. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Just this," Pansy said, leaning over so her face was mere inches away from Neville's. "Hurt him and I will end you."

"I don't want to hurt him," Neville said, somewhat confused. "I like Draco."

Pansy sat back with a frown. "That doesn't mean you can't hurt him. He likes you."

"How could I hurt him?" Neville protested. "And why is it a bad thing that he likes me when we're friends? I don't understand."

"Men," Pansy said, rubbing a hand over her face. "Look, Longbottom. Neville, I mean. Let me explain some things to you."

"Okay." At this point, Neville was more than happy to just sit back and listen.

"There was a time when I thought I'd grow up and get married to Draco. It made sense. We were the same age, Purebloods – which was important back then – and best friends. I thought it was perfect." Pansy paused and took a sip of tea. "In sixth year, Draco said he had something very important to tell me. Silly little me, I thought he was going to officially ask me out, or maybe even say he loved me, but wanted to wait until after school. What he really told me was that he had no intentions of marrying. There would never be a Mrs. Malfoy, if Draco had any say in the matter. Oh, and could I please keep this a secret, since his parents had no idea?"

"Yes," Neville said. "He did mention that to me."

Pansy gave a long-suffering sigh and looked up to the sky, as if seeking help. "He knows that you have no intentions of marrying, and he likes you. He's hoping that you can 'not marry' together. Do you understand why I'm worried? He's had a rough few years, and I don't want to see him hurt any more."

"Oh, that's okay," Neville said, unable to keep a smile from his face. "I like him too."

"You do? Really?" Pansy asked, looking stunned. It obviously wasn't the response she'd been expecting.

Neville had to stop and think about what he had just said. "Yeah. I. . . I do. I have for a little while, I just didn't realize... I mean, I knew he liked men, and, well, I do too, but I figured that didn't mean we were supposed to like each other that way, just because we both liked men. And then a week ago I saw him with my mum, and I couldn't figure out what was going on, but I knew something had changed, and then we had the whole problem of Harry and Ron and the others, and. . . he really likes me?"

"Oh, Merlin," Pansy sighed, putting her head in her hands. "Now I've got two of them."

Neville was still stunned by the revelation, and he had to focus hard to think back on all the time he and Draco had spent together. It made sense, now that he was looking back, as though all these little clues had suddenly come together to point in one direction.

A sudden thought occurred to Neville. "Is he going to be angry that you've told me this?"

"Oh, no," Pansy said. "He knows I'm here. I told him exactly what I was going to do."

"You did?"

Pansy tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, it may have been phrased along the lines of 'If you say one more word about how he takes his tea, I'm going straight over there to tell him how you feel.' I'm not sure he believed me though."

"Oh, great," Neville said. "That means it's up to me to make the first move."

"You are the Gryffindor," Pansy said, picking up her tea again. "We Slytherins have a bad habit of just hinting around hopefully and waiting for the other person to pick up on our hints. It works fine with most other Slytherins, though not as well with other houses."

She took a deep drink of her tea, and sighed.

"So, what are you going to do?" she asked. "I can prod him to ask you out, if you want. Though he's not very good at recognizing subtle hints. Or unsubtle ones, for that matter."

"No, I'll tell him." Neville tried to ignore the wild flutterings in his stomach. "He usually comes by for tea, so… I can tell him."

"Good," Pansy said. "Soon, I hope? I love him dearly, but I'm getting sick of hearing him moan about how you couldn't possibly like him the same way he likes you and how sexy you are when you're all dirty and sweaty from working in the greenhouses. . . You know, I think that's why he tries to show up for tea, so he'll catch you at the end of the day before you clean up."

Neville could feel himself blushing furiously.

"And he could spend hours on how much he loves your hair when it's a bit longer that normal, so that it curls on the ends…"

Reaching up, Neville ran his fingers through his hair self-consciously.

"I swear, I know exactly how you take your tea, which are your favourite biscuits, how you sit on that ridiculous fold-out cot with Draco trying to sit next to you without it being obvious that he's trying to get close to you…"

"Okay, okay," Neville said, starting to laugh. "I believe you."

"Good," Pansy said. "Now do something about it before I'm forced to cast a permanent Silencio my best friend."

"I will," Neville promised. He took a deep breath. "Tomorrow."

---

An hour after Pansy had left, Neville was humming happily to himself as he clipped dittany for the local apothecary. He wouldn't see Draco tonight, as he and Harrison had potions going, but tomorrow he was supposed to come by. The Singing Roses, only a row away, formed a soft harmony to Neville's hummed melody, and the peach roses were just beginning a descant when a cough sounded behind him.

Neville turned to see Harry, hands shoved in his pockets, one toe scuffing the ground.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, instead of hello.

"You are?" It probably wasn't the best response, but Neville had assumed it was very likely that Harry wouldn't speak with him again, much less apologize.

Harry took a deep breath. "I am. I just… I shouldn't have responded like that, even though… I mean. I'm not explaining this very well, am I?"

"No, not really," Neville said, but he smiled as he said it.

Harry fidgeted a bit more, clearly unsure of how to begin. Neville was about to suggest tea, even though he'd had two cups with Pansy, when Harry finally spoke.

"I like you. A lot. I liked you last year, too, but I thought it was bad, because it wasn't normal. And then everyone found out about Draco, and Ron kept saying these things about him, and…. and there was Ginny and we were supposed to be together, but there was you, and I wanted you instead. I pushed you away. I'm sorry, I didn't want to, but I thought…"

Harry stopped, breathing harshly. Carefully, Neville set the shears aside and pulled off his gloves. He wasn't sure what to say or do, but then Harry kept talking and Neville didn't have to say anything after all.

"If I said anything to you, I thought you'd be... well, you'd be nice and kind, because you always are, but you'd say no and then I'd be embarrassed and everything would be awkward, so I didn't. But then suddenly there was Draco, and you knew about Draco and you were ok with it, and had lunch out with Draco and I realized… I realized that I'd missed it, that I should have said something. But you were the brave one and I was the coward, and I've missed it, haven't I?"

Neville took in Harry's expression, hopeful and sad at once, and found it hard to breathe.

"Harry," Neville said. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"I knew it. I knew it," Harry said, biting his lip. "It's too late."

Neville wondered if he should tell Harry that a year ago, it would have been perfect, and Neville had liked him too. But Harry had been Ginny's, and Neville had assumed, just as Harry had. He took a moment for regret, then set it aside. There was Draco now, and Neville couldn't… wouldn't give that up.

"Yes," Neville said. "It's too late."

"I thought I might try," Harry admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. "It's why I asked you out to lunch that day. To maybe be brave, and try with you. To tell you how I feel. But then I found out that you and Draco... that you probably just thought of you and I as friends. And you and Draco were… are…"

Neville nodded, heart aching. "Me and Draco. Yes, that's... yes."

Even though it didn't make sense, Harry seemed to understand what Neville was trying to say.

"Well," Harry said, mouth twisting up in a humourless smile. "Maybe next time I fall for someone, I'll just go for it. What will I have to lose?"

"You should," Neville said. He wanted to reach out and hug Harry, but it would probably do more harm than good. "You'll find someone. There are more of us in the Wizarding World than most people like to think. Just... when someone says they have no plans to marry or something like that, it usually means they're one of us."

"One of us," Harry repeated.

Neville nodded. "A lot of us marry anyway, especially if they're the only heir. They have to carry on the bloodline, though I suppose blood isn't as important as the name anymore. Gran is okay with me adopting a baby or child as heir, as long as they're young enough to start schooling them early in the family history and how to run the family and take care of the estate. They'll take our name and be a Longbottom, even if they're not of our blood."

"I see," Harry said, blinking rapidly, and Neville realized he probably wasn't the best one to guide Harry through the complicated business of being gay in the Wizarding world. Especially not after Neville had just rejected him.

"You should talk to Kingsley," Neville said. "Gran had him over for tea a few months after I had my talk with her. He really helped a lot."

"Kingsley? Really?" Harry asked, looking startled. "I wouldn't have thought…"

"You didn't think I was either," Neville said with a shrug. "You have to admit that your perception of people's preferences might be a bit off."

It was a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, but Harry laughed a little anyway. "I guess so."

They were quiet for a moment, then Harry began shifting back and forth.

"I'd better go," Harry said finally. "Thanks."

"For what?" Neville asked, puzzled.

"For listening and not laughing. For giving me advice." Harry tried to smile. "Maybe it wasn't the outcome I was hoping for, but… anyway, I hope you and Draco work out. Really. It seems like he makes you happy."

"He does," Neville said. "I hope… I hope you find someone too."

Neville wasn't sure what else to say or do, so he just stood there as Harry left. It felt strange, like he should have been more sad, but mostly he was glad that the air was clear between himself and Harry. Now there was just one more talk to get through. He couldn't wait to see Draco.

---

"They'll come around," Luna said as she leaned closer to the Climbing Irchwinder. "Hermione is withholding sex until Ron 'decides to grow up,' as she put it, so Ron's likely to come around fairly quickly. And when Ron does, Ginny will probably calm down. Harry, though… he's very sad."

"I know," Neville said. He dropped to the greenhouse floor to sit next to her. "I can't believe I didn't notice that he liked me."

"And I did?" Luna smiled to show she didn't take offence. "I see all sorts of things other people can't see."

"Like nargles."

"Mmm, yes," Luna said. "People can be very interesting as well, though. If you know what to look for."

"And apparently I don't," Neville said with a sigh.

"Don't worry. It will all turn out right in the end. There's still Percy, you know. Harry will find him sooner or later. Percy is very patient."

Actually, Neville hadn't known about patient Percy, but apparently there was quite a bit going on that Neville had missed.

Luna picked up her camera and prepared to take some shots of the plant. "I do wish it would bloom. Do you mind if I leave my camera, so if it blooms, you can take pictures?"

"I suppose," Neville said. "I don't know if I'll be very good at it."

"Better to get some shots than none. What if the blooms close or fall off before I can get here?" Luna tilted her head thoughtfully. "And if the mythology is true, the plant will only bloom in the presence of new love."

After the conversation they'd just had, Neville couldn't quite think of anything to say to that remark. Luna set her camera aside, and both of them simply watched the plant for a few moments. Neville wondered idly whether it would grow more if he extended the lattice.

"Communing with plants, are we?"

Neville tilted his head back to see Draco behind him, looking down at him with a sardonic eyebrow raised.

"I don't know why you're surprised," Neville said, suddenly happy that Draco was here. "I do own greenhouses."

"True," Draco said. He dropped into a crouch, resting one hand on Neville's back. "But there's a difference between working with plants and attempting to communicate with them."

"Not so much of a difference as you might think," Neville said, pressing back against Draco's hand. "I often have to scold the Fanged Geraniums or encourage the sweet peas."

"Hmmm. Well, I suppose you are the expert," Draco said, his breath stirring Neville's hair.

Neville turned his head so that his cheek was almost touching Draco's nose. "Yes. I raise the plants, you make the potions. You don't tell me how to make things grow, and I don't accidentally explode your cauldrons."

"Yes, sir," Draco said. His lips curled up in a soft smile.

"Oh, look!"

Neville had forgotten Luna was still there. He turned his head to see the buds on the Irchwinder slowly begin to open.

"Well, look at that," Draco said softly in Neville's ear. "Communing with plants might just work after all."

Neville smiled as he felt the hand on his back move up the tiniest bit so that Draco could play with the ends of his hair. Luna, busy taking pictures, didn't seem to notice, though Neville suspected that she knew exactly what was going on. The Irchwinder quivered one last time and fell still, each dark blue bloom fully open and pointing directly at Neville and Draco.

"See," Luna said complacently. "Everything will work out perfectly. I told you."

"Told you what?" Draco asked as Luna packed up her camera and stood. He rose from his crouch and offered Neville hand up.

"I'll make sure to send you the special edition of the Quibbler," Luna told Neville. "You too, if you want it, Draco. Just let me know."

She ran down the aisle and out of the greenhouse, carrying her bag carefully in front of her, leaving Neville and Draco to stare after her in bemusement.

"Despite not understanding what she's talking about half the time, I think I like her," Draco said.

"That's good," Neville said with a wry smile. "As she's my only friend that hasn't had a problem at the thought of us."

"Us?" Draco repeated, looking at him thoughtfully. "So what was she talking about earlier?"

"Oh," Neville said. "It was, um, the mythology surrounding the Irchwinder. She apparently thinks we proved it to be correct."

There was silence for a moment.

"Really, I'm beginning to think you don't want to tell me," Draco said teasingly. He moved closer to Neville.

"Well," Neville said. "It's… the mythology says that the Irchwinder will only grow and bloom in the right conditions. It will grow when the person tending the Irchwinder is in love, and it will bloom when the object of the tender's affection is there too."

Draco looked at Neville, then at the still-blooming plant, realization dawning on his face.

"It bloomed when I got here."

"Yeah," Neville said, looking down. "I… I hope that's okay."

Draco didn't answer, and Neville felt his heart sink. Merlin, Pansy had been lying to him, and he'd just made a complete fool of himself. Draco was never going to speak to him again and…

A hand touched Neville's cheek, making him look up.

"Just okay?" Draco said, looking incredibly happy. "It's perfect."

"Oh, good." Giddy with relief, Neville leaned in toward Draco, but hesitated with their mouths not quite touching, unsure whether Draco really wanted this or not.

Draco's hand slid around to the back of Neville's neck as he closed the distance between them. Warm and soft were Neville's first impressions, and as he tilted his head, angling for a firmer kiss, he could feel Draco's light stubble rasping against his lower lip. Not hesitant now, Neville gripped Draco's hips to pull him closer, wanting to feel Draco's slim body against his own. Draco pressed close willingly and wrapped his arm around Neville's shoulders. Neville could feel both of Draco's hands sliding up into his hair, and he vowed to never cut it again.

Growing bolder, Neville pulled back a little and teased the corner of Draco's mouth with his tongue. Draco opened his mouth immediately, tugging on Neville's hair to guide his mouth back. Draco tasted of honey and anise, and Neville took his time exploring every part of Draco's mouth before Draco insisted on returning the favour. Wrapping his arms completely around Draco's waist, Neville tangled his tongue with Draco's and relished the soft, indecent noises they were both making.

When they finally pulled apart, breathing heavily, Draco's eyes were half-lidded and his lips were red and swollen. He'd never looked so gorgeous, and Neville leaned in for one more quick kiss, nipping at Draco's lower lip.

"I suppose we're past the point where I was supposed to say 'I like you, too'," Draco said, running his fingers through Neville's hair.

"That's ok," Neville said. "I don't really mind hearing it now. Or anytime you feel like saying it."

"Good to know."

Draco smiled, slow and sexy, and had he asked for anything in that moment, Neville would have given it to him. But Draco didn't ask for anything, so Neville just kissed him again.

Epilogue: Six months later

"That's really nice, Mum," Neville said, looking at what she was drawing. She had improved so much that they were sitting at a table, and she was allowed coloured pencils and other craft-type materials when he was there.

His mum smiled, handing him the drawing, and started on a new one immediately. Neville got up to put the finished picture on the wall with the others. He'd perfected his Sticking Charms, and now a full wall of his parents' room was brightened by drawings that his mum had made.

Turning back, Neville smiled to see his father. He had also improved tremendously under the new potion regimen and was actually sitting up in bed. Draco was curled in a soft chair next to him, quietly reading a Muggle novel aloud. Sensing the attention, Draco looked up and returned Neville's smile before continuing the chapter.

His mum made an interrogative noise, and Neville went back to the table. She pulled him around so he was crouching beside her, and showed him her drawing. It was himself and Draco together, holding hands, in front of a greenhouse. Neville felt a thrill of excitement; he loved when his mum showed that she now comprehended what he and Draco said to her during their weekly visits.

"Yes, Mum," Neville said. "That's me and Draco. And those are my greenhouses."

His mum bit her lip, leaned over and whispered, "Happy?"

It was the first word she'd spoken in almost 20 years. Neville felt his eyes prick with tears, and he looked up to see Draco watching from across the room.

"I've never been happier."

The End...