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lenapinewoods
Recipient:xslytherclawx
Title: Honking Daffodils and Coffee at Winter Time
Pairing: Neville/Hermione
Rating: G
Word Count 2436
Summary: Here he was, war hero Neville Longbottom, running through the rainy streets of London, looking for cakes for three old ladies.
Author's Notes: Dear xslytherclawx, I really liked your prompts! I hadn’t considered a romance between Hermione and Neville before, but they do make a cute couple. I tried my best with this one, but since I’m not Jewish or black myself, I am open to criticism and I appreciate any and all feedback about the representation of black and Jewish characters and Jewish culture. (This fic has been beta read by someone who is both Jewish and a WOC, however. A big thanks to my wonderful betas, O & K <3.) I really hope you like it! Happy Chanukah, xslytherclawx!
Neville Longbottom stopped in front of pair of warmly glowing windows. Through them he could see a couple sitting at a table, sipping coffee, and inside, a woman serving clients at the counter. Neville looked at the elegant sign above the windows that said, Berstein’s Baked Goods. He let out a sigh of relief. He had spent half an hour looking for a bakery that would satisfy his grandmother’s sophisticated taste and now he seemed to finally have found one. He could still hear his grandmother’s voice in his ears; “Neville, darling, could you please go out to get some pastries before Gladys and Enid arrive for tea? And this time, go some place nice! Don’t you dare bring back those dry, crumbly muffins you did the last time. You know Gladys’ hands shake, she can’t eat anything that crumbles at her touch…” Neville couldn’t help feeling a bit amused. Here he was, war hero Neville Longbottom, running through the rainy streets of London, looking for cakes for three old ladies. He chuckled, shaking his head. He certainly needed to get a flat of his own soon.
Neville stepped inside. He was welcomed by a charming smell of freshly baked bread. It was so warm inside he immediately opened his coat and loosened the scarf around his neck. Looking around, he noticed that most tables were occupied by couples and small groups of friends and families. He felt a small tug in his heart, thinking about his friends. The whole Weasley clan was on a long holiday in Southern Europe, Harry with them, and Luna was visiting family in Ireland. None of them would be back until the end of December. They weren’t the only families taking some extra time out of work and school and spending the holidays abroad – it was little more than seven months since the Battle of Hogwarts and the year had been rough for everyone. Many wanted to spend their holidays away from the memories of the war that still lingered above Britain.
Observing the clients of the bakery, Neville’s eyes suddenly stopped on a young woman in a moss-green woollen coat, standing in the queue. He immediately recognized the unruly bush of brown curls and the intense look on the woman’s face as she eyed at the counter.
“Hermione!” Neville said. “Hello!”
The woman turned around. “Neville!” Hermione looked surprised. “How are you? What brings you here?”
“My grandmother sent me to get some cakes for her friends,” Neville said, feeling a little embarrassed. “Ernie and Daphne’s grandmothers are coming for a visit.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Hermione said, smiling. Neville caught himself wondering if she genuinely meant it or if she was secretly making fun of him. But Hermione wouldn’t make fun of him, he reminded himself. Even though he had felt more confident during this year than ever before in his life, talking to pretty, smart girls sometimes still made old insecurities rise up.
And Hermione was pretty and smart. She was also very interesting. It had been last summer when he had noticed, for the first time, how interesting she actually was. They both had, among many other wizards and witches, volunteered at rebuilding Hogwarts. Neville and Hermione had both spent a lot of time outside the castle, tending the magical plants that were injured in the battle and gathering ingredients to be sent to St Mungo for healing potions. Of course, Neville had always known that Hermione was a brilliant witch and a kind person, but until last summer, he hadn’t considered her anything else than someone he shared the same group of friends with.
He could still remember the exact moment when he had realized that he had a crush on her. They had spent the July morning in a group that was looking for sprouts of knotgrass in the Forbidden Forest and on their way back to the castle for lunch he had talked with Hermione about an interesting, purple-spotted fungus that they had found in the forest. In that moment Ron had arrived, interrupting their conversation by wrapping his arms around Hermione and pulling her in for a kiss. Neville remembered standing there, an awkward outsider next to them, feeling an unexpected wave of sadness and jealousy wash over him.
However, Hermione and Ron had broken up a couple of months ago. The last time he had heard, Ron had been seeing Susan Bones. Neville wondered if Hermione was dating anyone… He suddenly realized he had been staring at Hermione and quickly asked, “And what about you? How are you?”
“I’m fine. Oh, it’s my turn,” Hermione said, as the queue moved and she was now facing the shopkeeper. “I’ll have one challah – one of the star-shaped ones please – and ten pita breads,” she told the shopkeeper and turned back to Neville. “My grandparents from Israel are here for Chanukah. Mum needed some help with the shopping so I offered to go. Also,” Hermione tilted her head and now it was her turn to look a bit embarrassed. “I sort of needed a little break. I mean, I love my family, but it’s just such a hassle at home right now. Grandma is baking latkes and sufganyot and arguing with mum,” she let out a little laugh. “But I love that they’re here. I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“How are your parents?” Neville asked cautiously, remembering that the last time he heard, Hermione’s parents were still at St Mungo’s, healing from the damage that Hermione’s memory spells had caused them.
“They have recovered very well,” Hermione said, beaming. “They got out of the hospital in November. They still have small memory lapses occasionally, but the healers believe they will be fully healed in a few months.”
The shopkeeper handed Hermione a brown paper bag over the counter and turned to Neville. “What can I get you?”
“Umm,” Neville looked at the pastries on display, most of which he was unfamiliar with. “What would you recommend for three old ladies?”
“How about this Viennese apple strudel? It’s my mother’s recipe,” the woman said, pointing at a roll-formed pastry with a little sign next to it that said Esther’s Apple Strudel.
“It looks perfect,” Neville smiled. “I’ll take one of them.”
The woman placed one roll of apple strudel in a paper box and smiled at Neville. “Anything else?”
“Well…” Neville hesitated a little. Hermione was still standing next to him, so close he could feel the sleeve of her coat brush his arm slightly as she moved. He wanted to spend a little while longer with her, but didn’t know how to express it. She had seemed happy to see him, so maybe he could just ask? They had never really spent time together, just the two of them – it had always been in a bigger group. But they were friends regardless, so it shouldn’t be weird or awkward. Neville gathered up his courage and turned to Hermione. “Are you in a hurry? I was wondering – would you like to have a cup of coffee?”
Hermione looked a bit surprised, but also pleased. “Sure, I’d like that. Coffee sounds lovely.”
“Great! We’ll have one coffee and one tea,” Neville said, turning back to the shopkeeper. “And… would you like to eat something?” he asked Hermione.
“We’ll have two rugelach,” Hermione said and the shopkeeper placed two chocolate-filled pastries on a plate.
“My treat,” Neville said quickly, when Hermione started to open her wallet. “Because I asked,” he added, afraid that Hermione, a feminist as she was, might find him too traditional or even sexist – two things he definitely didn’t want to be. To his relief Hermione just shrugged, smiling.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll pay the next time.”
The next time, Neville thought, trying to hold back a smile. There might be a next time.
The couple he had seen through the window got up to leave and Neville and Hermione sat down on their table.
“How are your honking daffodils?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
“They’re loud and well. Still waking me up precisely at 3 and 5 am every morning. My grandmother hates them,” Neville grinned. One thing he lov– liked about Hermione was that she was always genuinely interested in his plants.
“Why don’t you just cast a Muffiliato at them for the nights?”
“It’s important to know their honking rhythm to inspect their growth,” Neville explained.
“Oh, right. Of course.”
“Besides, I have been thinking of getting my own place soon. I need room for a bigger indoor greenhouse.”
“I heard Justin Finch-Fletchley is looking for a flatmate. You could ask him,” Hermione suggested.
“That’s a good idea. Justin’s a good bloke,” Neville said. “What about you? Have you considered moving on your own?”
“Well, not just yet,” Hermione seemed to hesitate. “I feel like… I need to be there for my parents while they heal. They need me. And I do want to spend time with them. Also, I think– I still feel sort of guilty about what I did to them.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” Neville shook his head. “You were only trying to protect them.”
“Yeah,” Hermione said. “I know. They know. They were a little angry at first, when they realized what I had done, but they understood in the end. I think they actually worry about me a little. I have spent so much time helping them and studying their condition and the healing process, that I haven’t really had much time to see any of my friends since summer. And after Ron and I broke up, even less so. We’re still friends with Ron, but it’s been a bit awkward, going to the Burrow after the break-up. And Harry spends all his time with Ginny, so I haven’t seen him much either. I guess I’ve also been avoiding people a little. It’s so easy to just isolate yourself and get absorbed in your studies.”
Neville nodded. He understood perfectly. He knew how it felt to be an outsider and how easy it was to isolate yourself if you didn’t feel like you belonged somewhere or if you weren’t sure you would be accepted.
“I have been feeling lonely too, lately. It’s strange, I think there was this strong sense of thrill, excitement and relief in the summer, when the war was over. It felt like a new beginning. But then the summer ended and everyone went back to their lives. It was like… everything had changed. And at the same time, nothing had.”
“I know,” Hermione said.
They were quiet for a moment. Then Neville said, “Remember that day in the Forbidden Forest, in the summer? When we were looking for knotgrass and we found that purple fungus?”
“I do!” Hermione said, eyes lightening. “Did you ever find out what it was?”
“In the matter of fact, I did,” Neville said, feeling proud of himself. “I actually went back there, later that day, and picked some of them up. It turned out to be an alien species called Cortinarius ferventis, native to East Asia and known from it’s habit of jumping from one location to another at night. That’s what makes finding it so difficult – it’s never in the same place for two consecutive days.”
“Oh, I know it! I have read about it,” Hermione said, excited. “There’s a mention of it in Reminiscing & Remembering – Potions for Bettering the Memory. It’s an important ingredient of Nostalgia Potion that is often used to aid healing from memory spells. I’ve wanted to try it on my parents.”
“I dried some of the fungi that I picked – I can give you some, if you like,” Neville offered.
“That would be great! Would you – do you think you would like to help me prepare the potion too?”
“You’re much better at potions than I am,” Neville said, hesitant, even though the opportunity of spending more time with Hermione was tempting. “I don’t think you need my help for brewing.”
“No, but you know the plants,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “Nostalgia Potion requires a lot of herbal ingredients. I could use your expertise.”
“Well, then I’m happy to help,” Neville said, smiling.
Hermione smiled too. Then she glimpsed at the clock on the wall.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I think I need to go now.”
Neville took the last sip of his tea and they got up to leave. As they put on their coats, he couldn’t help but notice how cute Hermione looked in her winter attire; the big, woollen coat, scarf wrapped around her neck three times and a pair of earmuffs covering her ears. Her face looked small in the middle of all the clothing and the earmuffs made her dark curls puffier than usual. Neville got a strong urge to cover her cheeks with his hands and kiss her right then and there, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t know how she felt about him, after all.
“Are you sure you have enough clothes on?” Neville asked, grinning.
“Hey, don’t make fun of me,” Hermione laughed. “I get cold very easily.”
Hermione walked out first. Neville stopped at the door, looking around. It was snowing outside and the ground was covered with a thin white layer that glistened in the darkening evening.
“Neville?” Hermione turned around to look at him. The light from inside the bakery cast a beautiful, bronze glow on her face.
“Yeah?” Neville said.
“Was this a date?” Hermione’s eyes were amber-warm but inscrutable.
Neville breathed out slowly, his breath white steam in the frozen air. “Did you want it to be?” he asked.
“No,” Hermione said.
“Oh,” Neville said, feeling a wave of disappointment and embarrassment washing over him.
“But I would like to ask you on a proper one,” Hermione added. “So that the next time when we meet, we both know it’s a date.”
“Oh!” Neville said. Suddenly he felt like someone had just poured something warm inside of him. He realized he had a big, silly grin on his face. “I’d like that very much,” he said.
“It’s settled then,” Hermione said. “Maybe next weekend? I’m sorry, I really have to go now. But send me an owl and we can set the details?”
“I will,” Neville said. And without further ado, Hermione got on her tiptoes, gave him a kiss on the cheek, whispered a bye in his ear and Disapparated.
Neville walked home slowly, feeling thoroughly happy. He wondered if he should get Hermione flowers for their date. Maybe she would appreciate a bouquet of honking daffodils?
lenapinewoodsRecipient:
xslytherclawx Title: Honking Daffodils and Coffee at Winter Time
Pairing: Neville/Hermione
Rating: G
Word Count 2436
Summary: Here he was, war hero Neville Longbottom, running through the rainy streets of London, looking for cakes for three old ladies.
Author's Notes: Dear xslytherclawx, I really liked your prompts! I hadn’t considered a romance between Hermione and Neville before, but they do make a cute couple. I tried my best with this one, but since I’m not Jewish or black myself, I am open to criticism and I appreciate any and all feedback about the representation of black and Jewish characters and Jewish culture. (This fic has been beta read by someone who is both Jewish and a WOC, however. A big thanks to my wonderful betas, O & K <3.) I really hope you like it! Happy Chanukah, xslytherclawx!
Neville Longbottom stopped in front of pair of warmly glowing windows. Through them he could see a couple sitting at a table, sipping coffee, and inside, a woman serving clients at the counter. Neville looked at the elegant sign above the windows that said, Berstein’s Baked Goods. He let out a sigh of relief. He had spent half an hour looking for a bakery that would satisfy his grandmother’s sophisticated taste and now he seemed to finally have found one. He could still hear his grandmother’s voice in his ears; “Neville, darling, could you please go out to get some pastries before Gladys and Enid arrive for tea? And this time, go some place nice! Don’t you dare bring back those dry, crumbly muffins you did the last time. You know Gladys’ hands shake, she can’t eat anything that crumbles at her touch…” Neville couldn’t help feeling a bit amused. Here he was, war hero Neville Longbottom, running through the rainy streets of London, looking for cakes for three old ladies. He chuckled, shaking his head. He certainly needed to get a flat of his own soon.
Neville stepped inside. He was welcomed by a charming smell of freshly baked bread. It was so warm inside he immediately opened his coat and loosened the scarf around his neck. Looking around, he noticed that most tables were occupied by couples and small groups of friends and families. He felt a small tug in his heart, thinking about his friends. The whole Weasley clan was on a long holiday in Southern Europe, Harry with them, and Luna was visiting family in Ireland. None of them would be back until the end of December. They weren’t the only families taking some extra time out of work and school and spending the holidays abroad – it was little more than seven months since the Battle of Hogwarts and the year had been rough for everyone. Many wanted to spend their holidays away from the memories of the war that still lingered above Britain.
Observing the clients of the bakery, Neville’s eyes suddenly stopped on a young woman in a moss-green woollen coat, standing in the queue. He immediately recognized the unruly bush of brown curls and the intense look on the woman’s face as she eyed at the counter.
“Hermione!” Neville said. “Hello!”
The woman turned around. “Neville!” Hermione looked surprised. “How are you? What brings you here?”
“My grandmother sent me to get some cakes for her friends,” Neville said, feeling a little embarrassed. “Ernie and Daphne’s grandmothers are coming for a visit.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Hermione said, smiling. Neville caught himself wondering if she genuinely meant it or if she was secretly making fun of him. But Hermione wouldn’t make fun of him, he reminded himself. Even though he had felt more confident during this year than ever before in his life, talking to pretty, smart girls sometimes still made old insecurities rise up.
And Hermione was pretty and smart. She was also very interesting. It had been last summer when he had noticed, for the first time, how interesting she actually was. They both had, among many other wizards and witches, volunteered at rebuilding Hogwarts. Neville and Hermione had both spent a lot of time outside the castle, tending the magical plants that were injured in the battle and gathering ingredients to be sent to St Mungo for healing potions. Of course, Neville had always known that Hermione was a brilliant witch and a kind person, but until last summer, he hadn’t considered her anything else than someone he shared the same group of friends with.
He could still remember the exact moment when he had realized that he had a crush on her. They had spent the July morning in a group that was looking for sprouts of knotgrass in the Forbidden Forest and on their way back to the castle for lunch he had talked with Hermione about an interesting, purple-spotted fungus that they had found in the forest. In that moment Ron had arrived, interrupting their conversation by wrapping his arms around Hermione and pulling her in for a kiss. Neville remembered standing there, an awkward outsider next to them, feeling an unexpected wave of sadness and jealousy wash over him.
However, Hermione and Ron had broken up a couple of months ago. The last time he had heard, Ron had been seeing Susan Bones. Neville wondered if Hermione was dating anyone… He suddenly realized he had been staring at Hermione and quickly asked, “And what about you? How are you?”
“I’m fine. Oh, it’s my turn,” Hermione said, as the queue moved and she was now facing the shopkeeper. “I’ll have one challah – one of the star-shaped ones please – and ten pita breads,” she told the shopkeeper and turned back to Neville. “My grandparents from Israel are here for Chanukah. Mum needed some help with the shopping so I offered to go. Also,” Hermione tilted her head and now it was her turn to look a bit embarrassed. “I sort of needed a little break. I mean, I love my family, but it’s just such a hassle at home right now. Grandma is baking latkes and sufganyot and arguing with mum,” she let out a little laugh. “But I love that they’re here. I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“How are your parents?” Neville asked cautiously, remembering that the last time he heard, Hermione’s parents were still at St Mungo’s, healing from the damage that Hermione’s memory spells had caused them.
“They have recovered very well,” Hermione said, beaming. “They got out of the hospital in November. They still have small memory lapses occasionally, but the healers believe they will be fully healed in a few months.”
The shopkeeper handed Hermione a brown paper bag over the counter and turned to Neville. “What can I get you?”
“Umm,” Neville looked at the pastries on display, most of which he was unfamiliar with. “What would you recommend for three old ladies?”
“How about this Viennese apple strudel? It’s my mother’s recipe,” the woman said, pointing at a roll-formed pastry with a little sign next to it that said Esther’s Apple Strudel.
“It looks perfect,” Neville smiled. “I’ll take one of them.”
The woman placed one roll of apple strudel in a paper box and smiled at Neville. “Anything else?”
“Well…” Neville hesitated a little. Hermione was still standing next to him, so close he could feel the sleeve of her coat brush his arm slightly as she moved. He wanted to spend a little while longer with her, but didn’t know how to express it. She had seemed happy to see him, so maybe he could just ask? They had never really spent time together, just the two of them – it had always been in a bigger group. But they were friends regardless, so it shouldn’t be weird or awkward. Neville gathered up his courage and turned to Hermione. “Are you in a hurry? I was wondering – would you like to have a cup of coffee?”
Hermione looked a bit surprised, but also pleased. “Sure, I’d like that. Coffee sounds lovely.”
“Great! We’ll have one coffee and one tea,” Neville said, turning back to the shopkeeper. “And… would you like to eat something?” he asked Hermione.
“We’ll have two rugelach,” Hermione said and the shopkeeper placed two chocolate-filled pastries on a plate.
“My treat,” Neville said quickly, when Hermione started to open her wallet. “Because I asked,” he added, afraid that Hermione, a feminist as she was, might find him too traditional or even sexist – two things he definitely didn’t want to be. To his relief Hermione just shrugged, smiling.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll pay the next time.”
The next time, Neville thought, trying to hold back a smile. There might be a next time.
The couple he had seen through the window got up to leave and Neville and Hermione sat down on their table.
“How are your honking daffodils?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
“They’re loud and well. Still waking me up precisely at 3 and 5 am every morning. My grandmother hates them,” Neville grinned. One thing he lov– liked about Hermione was that she was always genuinely interested in his plants.
“Why don’t you just cast a Muffiliato at them for the nights?”
“It’s important to know their honking rhythm to inspect their growth,” Neville explained.
“Oh, right. Of course.”
“Besides, I have been thinking of getting my own place soon. I need room for a bigger indoor greenhouse.”
“I heard Justin Finch-Fletchley is looking for a flatmate. You could ask him,” Hermione suggested.
“That’s a good idea. Justin’s a good bloke,” Neville said. “What about you? Have you considered moving on your own?”
“Well, not just yet,” Hermione seemed to hesitate. “I feel like… I need to be there for my parents while they heal. They need me. And I do want to spend time with them. Also, I think– I still feel sort of guilty about what I did to them.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” Neville shook his head. “You were only trying to protect them.”
“Yeah,” Hermione said. “I know. They know. They were a little angry at first, when they realized what I had done, but they understood in the end. I think they actually worry about me a little. I have spent so much time helping them and studying their condition and the healing process, that I haven’t really had much time to see any of my friends since summer. And after Ron and I broke up, even less so. We’re still friends with Ron, but it’s been a bit awkward, going to the Burrow after the break-up. And Harry spends all his time with Ginny, so I haven’t seen him much either. I guess I’ve also been avoiding people a little. It’s so easy to just isolate yourself and get absorbed in your studies.”
Neville nodded. He understood perfectly. He knew how it felt to be an outsider and how easy it was to isolate yourself if you didn’t feel like you belonged somewhere or if you weren’t sure you would be accepted.
“I have been feeling lonely too, lately. It’s strange, I think there was this strong sense of thrill, excitement and relief in the summer, when the war was over. It felt like a new beginning. But then the summer ended and everyone went back to their lives. It was like… everything had changed. And at the same time, nothing had.”
“I know,” Hermione said.
They were quiet for a moment. Then Neville said, “Remember that day in the Forbidden Forest, in the summer? When we were looking for knotgrass and we found that purple fungus?”
“I do!” Hermione said, eyes lightening. “Did you ever find out what it was?”
“In the matter of fact, I did,” Neville said, feeling proud of himself. “I actually went back there, later that day, and picked some of them up. It turned out to be an alien species called Cortinarius ferventis, native to East Asia and known from it’s habit of jumping from one location to another at night. That’s what makes finding it so difficult – it’s never in the same place for two consecutive days.”
“Oh, I know it! I have read about it,” Hermione said, excited. “There’s a mention of it in Reminiscing & Remembering – Potions for Bettering the Memory. It’s an important ingredient of Nostalgia Potion that is often used to aid healing from memory spells. I’ve wanted to try it on my parents.”
“I dried some of the fungi that I picked – I can give you some, if you like,” Neville offered.
“That would be great! Would you – do you think you would like to help me prepare the potion too?”
“You’re much better at potions than I am,” Neville said, hesitant, even though the opportunity of spending more time with Hermione was tempting. “I don’t think you need my help for brewing.”
“No, but you know the plants,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “Nostalgia Potion requires a lot of herbal ingredients. I could use your expertise.”
“Well, then I’m happy to help,” Neville said, smiling.
Hermione smiled too. Then she glimpsed at the clock on the wall.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I think I need to go now.”
Neville took the last sip of his tea and they got up to leave. As they put on their coats, he couldn’t help but notice how cute Hermione looked in her winter attire; the big, woollen coat, scarf wrapped around her neck three times and a pair of earmuffs covering her ears. Her face looked small in the middle of all the clothing and the earmuffs made her dark curls puffier than usual. Neville got a strong urge to cover her cheeks with his hands and kiss her right then and there, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t know how she felt about him, after all.
“Are you sure you have enough clothes on?” Neville asked, grinning.
“Hey, don’t make fun of me,” Hermione laughed. “I get cold very easily.”
Hermione walked out first. Neville stopped at the door, looking around. It was snowing outside and the ground was covered with a thin white layer that glistened in the darkening evening.
“Neville?” Hermione turned around to look at him. The light from inside the bakery cast a beautiful, bronze glow on her face.
“Yeah?” Neville said.
“Was this a date?” Hermione’s eyes were amber-warm but inscrutable.
Neville breathed out slowly, his breath white steam in the frozen air. “Did you want it to be?” he asked.
“No,” Hermione said.
“Oh,” Neville said, feeling a wave of disappointment and embarrassment washing over him.
“But I would like to ask you on a proper one,” Hermione added. “So that the next time when we meet, we both know it’s a date.”
“Oh!” Neville said. Suddenly he felt like someone had just poured something warm inside of him. He realized he had a big, silly grin on his face. “I’d like that very much,” he said.
“It’s settled then,” Hermione said. “Maybe next weekend? I’m sorry, I really have to go now. But send me an owl and we can set the details?”
“I will,” Neville said. And without further ado, Hermione got on her tiptoes, gave him a kiss on the cheek, whispered a bye in his ear and Disapparated.
Neville walked home slowly, feeling thoroughly happy. He wondered if he should get Hermione flowers for their date. Maybe she would appreciate a bouquet of honking daffodils?
