Bring a Friend /// pg
Title: Bring a Friend
Author: hikaru / _regarde
Archive: Please ask permission.
Feedback: If you so desire.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Characters: Charlie Weasley/Neville Longbottom implied
Disclaimer: They're all J. K. Rowling's, and I've got the feeling that she'd have my head for this.
Summary: Professor Longbottom loves plants.
Notes: Written for a drabble night in #knockturn.
"Got a minute, Professor?" A boisterous voice rang out in Greenhouse Seven, startling all of its occupants, human and plant alike. The Sniffling Flibbertygibbets broke out into full-blown wails, startled by the intrusion into their silent, plant-like world.
"Y-yes, sir," came a meek voice. From the back of the greenhouse, a dark-haired figure stood up and brushed his hands off on his apron. "Be out in a second."
The owner of said boisterous voice leaned up against the doorframe, waiting patiently for the beckoned professor to come out. He idly examined a new scar on his forearm, but decided it wasn't worth it to ponder where it came from. His reverie was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.
"How c-can I help you, Professor Weasley?" The dark-haired young man looked up expectantly at the other man.
"You're just who I've been looking for, Neville. And honestly, call me Charlie." He smiled broadly and clapped a hand on Neville's back. Neville coughed a bit and swayed with the force of the friendly gesture. "I have this patch of allapalla weed growing at the entry to my classroom; I don't know anyone who can get rid of the stuff, other than a qualified Herbology instructor." Charlie winked at Neville jovially.
Ah, plants. Neville may not have been the best people-person, but when it came to plants, he knew just what to do. He smiled weakly, still nervous under Charlie's gaze. "I think I might be able to help... do you mind if I bring a few of my friends? They usually get rid of allapalla better than me."
"Erm, you're entirely alone in here, Neville." Charlie ducked his head into the greenhouse and looked around.
Neville flushed a bright pink colour. Normal people, he remembered, didn't refer to plants as friends.
Author: hikaru / _regarde
Archive: Please ask permission.
Feedback: If you so desire.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Characters: Charlie Weasley/Neville Longbottom implied
Disclaimer: They're all J. K. Rowling's, and I've got the feeling that she'd have my head for this.
Summary: Professor Longbottom loves plants.
Notes: Written for a drabble night in #knockturn.
"Got a minute, Professor?" A boisterous voice rang out in Greenhouse Seven, startling all of its occupants, human and plant alike. The Sniffling Flibbertygibbets broke out into full-blown wails, startled by the intrusion into their silent, plant-like world.
"Y-yes, sir," came a meek voice. From the back of the greenhouse, a dark-haired figure stood up and brushed his hands off on his apron. "Be out in a second."
The owner of said boisterous voice leaned up against the doorframe, waiting patiently for the beckoned professor to come out. He idly examined a new scar on his forearm, but decided it wasn't worth it to ponder where it came from. His reverie was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.
"How c-can I help you, Professor Weasley?" The dark-haired young man looked up expectantly at the other man.
"You're just who I've been looking for, Neville. And honestly, call me Charlie." He smiled broadly and clapped a hand on Neville's back. Neville coughed a bit and swayed with the force of the friendly gesture. "I have this patch of allapalla weed growing at the entry to my classroom; I don't know anyone who can get rid of the stuff, other than a qualified Herbology instructor." Charlie winked at Neville jovially.
Ah, plants. Neville may not have been the best people-person, but when it came to plants, he knew just what to do. He smiled weakly, still nervous under Charlie's gaze. "I think I might be able to help... do you mind if I bring a few of my friends? They usually get rid of allapalla better than me."
"Erm, you're entirely alone in here, Neville." Charlie ducked his head into the greenhouse and looked around.
Neville flushed a bright pink colour. Normal people, he remembered, didn't refer to plants as friends.