A/N: Comepletely new story! written for the Daily HPFanFic Prompt Tumblr page prompt #379: Hannah Abbott decides to take up gardening and asks Neville Longbottom for help. This is a fanfic of firsts for me. First time I've written in first person in forever and my first canon pairing! Story is not canon, but the pairing is. DISCLAIMER: Any thing, one, or place you may recognize belongs solely to JK Rowling. Enjoy!

I looked at the pots on my kitchen windowsill in despair. A green thumb I am apparently not. I had been trying to start up a tiny window garden to brighten up my flat and so far it was going abysmally. Everything I planted seemed to just immediately give up on life. The current plants had been doing well I thought, but overnight they seemed to have agreed to a suicide pact as they were all wilted and brown and drooping when I got up this morning. I brushed a stray blonde strand of hair out of my face as I sighed and removed the offending plants from the window, dumping the contents into the rubbish bin.

I set a pot of coffee brewing and contemplated what I should do next. I had tried everything I knew to make these plants grow. Herbology hadn't been my best subject in school, but still, it seems like simple houseplants should be pretty idiot proof. At least I thought so. I guess that's what I get for thinking. The coffeepot behind me buzzed, telling me it was done and I poured myself a cup adding a teaspoon of sugar to dull the sharp edge of the bitterness.

Now I could make a drink. I could make you any drink you wanted, any way you wanted it while blindfolded. Drinks were something I knew about, working as the new proprietor of the Three Broomsticks since Rosmerta had decided to retire a few years after the war. I had gotten a job there after graduating from Hogwarts and become her right hand man so to speak. When I had first started working there, the job had been temporary until I found something else, but after a few weeks I couldn't see myself doing anything else. I loved it. She noticed that I had a good head for business and for customers and that I knew how to hold my own in a fight. Before she retired, she asked me if I was interested in buying the place from her. I had immediately jumped at the chance. It was one of the best decisions of my life. Trying to garden was decidedly not one of my best decisions.

I finished my coffee and set the mug in the sink. It was time to get ready to head down and open up the Broomsticks for business. I took one last look at my depressingly empty windows before heading downstairs. If only there was someone I could ask for help.

With it being a Friday night, business at the Three Broomsticks was booming. Thoughts about my gardening failures were pushed to the back of my mind as I kept the local and Hogwarts customers alike stocked in their choice of beverages and food. I looked up from where I was filling a Ravenclaw's tankard with a Twisted Tree Lager when the door thumped open, letting in a gust of wind and rain. A general chorus of greetings rose from the occupants of the bar when Hagrid, the gamekeeper for Hogwarts, came in shaking rainwater from his hair like a dog. It had been pouring for the better part of the afternoon.

"Evening Hagrid," I called over the din of people as he approached the bar.

"Evening Hannah, I'll have my usual please," he boomed. "Sorry Harold," he added as he accidentally elbowed one of the local patrons off the stool he had been sitting on.

"It's alright Hagrid, no harm done," the man said picking himself up off the floor and dusting himself off.

"Here we are Hagrid," I said, hefting monstrous tankard of Hairy Beast Howlin' Ale up onto the counter.

"Thanks Hannah," he said heading for the booth in the corner that was normally left open for him by some unspoken rule. It was understood that only if he hadn't shown up by a certain time- usually about eight-then others could make use of the table. Despite the fact that I knew the bench would hold the half-giant's weight, I still found myself watching in apprehension as he took a seat. It was while I was watching Hagrid that someone took a seat at the bar in front of me.

"Merlin it's wet out there," a man's voice said, bringing my attention back to the bar. I found myself face-to-face with a very wet Neville Longbottom, one of the best-looking professors Hogwarts had ever had. I could see more than one woman in the room with her eyes trained on him. He was completely oblivious to them though. In fact, he was usually completely oblivious to anything that wasn't a plant. He was really the sole reason that I even passed Herbology. An idea struck me then. Maybe he could help me with my plants.

"That usually tends to happen when it rains. Don't you have an umbrella?"

He grinned ruefully, "I forgot it. I really ought to start carrying a Remembrall or something in my pocket like when I was a student." He chuckled, "Not that it did me much good then either. Half the time I can't even remember what I've forgotten."

Hannah smiled. Some things never changed. "So what can I get for you Neville?"

"A Butterbeer if you've got it Hannah, and whatever you've got back in the kitchens please," he said draping his sodden cloak on the back of his stool. I couldn't help but notice that his characteristic sweater vest and button down shirt did nothing but accent his lanky, trim frame. He was probably the only man I knew who could pull off the sweater vest and bow tie combo.

"Coming right up. You want the beer on tap or in the bottle?"

He contemplated it a moment before replying, "Tap."

"Good man." I grinned as I poured his drink and handed it to him.

He took a long pull from the tankard before setting it back down. "Ah, that's much better."

"So what brings you down from the castle on this wet night? Usually you can't be torn away from your greenhouses," I asked him as I poured another round of Firewhiskies for a group of Slytherins.

"Plants are great and all, but, oddly enough, they aren't great conversationalists. I wanted to talk to someone who either wasn't myself or under the age of eighteen."

I laughed, "No I imagine they wouldn't be."

"I didn't want to go home just yet, so I figured I'd come down here and have dinner before calling it a night."

I heard my name being called from farther down the bar. I looked over to see Tim, the owner of the haberdashery down the road, flagging me down.

"I'll be right back with your food," I told Neville before heading down the bar.

"Evening Tim, what I can do for you tonight?" The man was probably the best dressed person in the pub with his charcoal gray three-piece suit finished off with a dark blue button-down shirt that was open at the collar, and a pair of black Italian leather loafers. This combined with his mass of dark curls and incredibly blue eyes was enough to make any woman swoon. Sadly, he plays for the other team, but he was still fun to look at.

"You haven't seen Daniel come in yet have you? I was supposed to meet him here, but I didn't see him when I looked around." Daniel was both his business partner and his romantic partner. The two had been together for nearly thirteen years now, since their Hogwarts days.

I thought for a moment trying to remember if I had seen the man in question, "No can't say as I have."

"Okay thanks, I'll just wait for him here then, as always. The man's never on time," Tim said.

I chuckled, "Can I get you anything while you're waiting?"

"Do you have any of that Tuscan red wine left from last week?"

"I think there may be a couple of bottles still left in the cellar."

"Excellent, I'll have a glass of that if you don't mind."

"You got it." I snagged Blake, my assistant bartender, and sent him down in search of the wine. Hiring Blake had been a lifesaver. His organizational skills were second to none and he knew the Broomsticks almost as well as I did. Being a fellow Hufflepuff, he was the right person to send in search of the wine, since as everyone knows, we are particularly good at finding things.

I walked out into the pub, checking in with everyone to make sure they had everything they needed, refilling glasses and making small talk.

When I finally made my way back to the bar, I stopped in at the kitchens to pick up a plate of food and made my way back to where Neville was sitting, talking with Oliver Wood who had become the new Quidditch coach this year after Madame Hooch finally retired. Hogwarts was practically crawling with good-looking professors these days.

"Here we are Neville," I said setting the plate down in front of him. He turned and smiled that completely gorgeous, crooked smile of his at me. I had been in love with that smile since sixth year. Not that he knew that of course. Like I said earlier, he was completely oblivious to anything that wasn't a plant.

"Smells amazing. You really know how to run a pub Hannah," he told me. I could feel myself blushing. No, stop blushing; you can't blush. My face was apparently not a very good listener as I could feel the heat spread across it. Thankfully no one seemed to notice and I changed the topic of conversation.

"Speaking of being good at things, I was wondering if you could help me with something?" I asked him.

"I don't know anything about pubs or business." I laughed at the confused look on his face.

"No, it's not about that. I've got everything covered here. It's a plant-related question."

He immediately relaxed. "Oh, now that I do know about. Ask away," he said taking a bite of his sandwich. Oliver left to join Hagrid. I caught sight of Blake out of the corner of my eye.

"Blake!" He turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised in question.

"You've got the pub for a minute while I talk to someone." He gave me an affirmative thumbs-up in reply. Satisfied that the Broomsticks was in good hands, I turned back to Neville who was looking at me closely. When he saw that I was looking at him he jumped and looked away.

"So, what is it that you wanted to ask me?"

I leaned on my elbows on the bar so that way I was eye-level with him and close enough that we wouldn't have to shout at each other to be heard.

"I'm trying to start a kind of mini-garden in my flat. You know, like one of those that people grow in their windowsills?" He nodded in understanding, his face one of attentive concentration. Now he looked more like a Hogwarts professor than my friend Neville.

"The problem I'm having is that nothing lives more than two weeks. I have more of a plant cemetery than a garden. I've tried all the trick that I can think of, but nothing seems to work. I was wondering if maybe you could help me out?"

"What kind of plants are you trying to grow?"

"A few flowers, some herbs, general houseplants and the like," I told him.

He propped his chin in one hand and looked at me thoughtfully.

"What all did you try?"

"Changing the amount of food and water they were getting, switching the type of soil they were planted in, swapping out fertilizers, moving them around in the flat, hell, I even tried singing to them, which only seemed to make them die faster."

He smiled, "That may not have been the best idea."

"Why not?" I asked indignantly.

"I've heard you sing remember? That time you and Seamus got pretty drunk in the Room of Requirements and treated everyone to a rather…interesting rendition of Molly Malone."

I buried my face in my hands, "I didn't think anyone remembered that."

"Who could forget you two drunkenly singing an Irish pub song while hiding from dark wizards in a besieged castle during a war? It was one of the most extraordinary things I've ever seen. That even with everything that was going on, people were still able to sing, albeit very loudly and extremely off key, but you were singing. It was brilliant."

I looked up at him surprised by the passion in his voice, "Really?"

"Really. It gave us all a reason to keep fighting. It showed everyone, especially me, that people weren't ready to give up yet. They still had enough hope and humanity left in them to sing." I found myself blushing while he talked. No one had ever called me brilliant or extraordinary before and I certainly had never inspired anyone. Stop it, I scolded myself, you sound like some besotted schoolgirl instead of a nearly thirty-year-old grown woman.

"However," he continued with a grin completely unaware of my mental ramblings, "while loud, off key singing may have inspired the DA to keep fighting, it most definitely will not inspire to plants to grow."

"Obviously."

"Otherwise you tried all the other things that I would suggest." I sagged in defeat, maybe I should just stick to making drinks.

As if sensing my despair he added, "If you like, since tomorrow's Saturday and I don't have classes, I can come by and take a look at them."

"I would gladly accept that offer if it weren't for the fact that my last batch of plants bit the dust this morning. Maybe when I get some more."

"Well in that case, why don't you come up to the castle and I can show you some tips and tricks of mine. If you're lucky I might even let you take some home to try out."

I brightened immediately, "I'd love to, but would Sunday work instead since I don't open on Sundays?"

Neville shrugged, "Sure, Sunday's fine, say around noon?"

I nodded, "Noon is good for me. Thanks Neville."

"No problem." At that moment I heard Blake call my name across the bar and looked over to seem him pointing to a pair of students arguing vehemently in the corner, looking like they would come to blows at any moment. I looked back at Neville.

"Have to go, duty calls."

"Good luck," he called after me, "See you Sunday."

A/N: So what did you think? If you caught any slip-ups in my POV I apologize, I kept reverting back to third person which is what I normally write in. I caught most of them, but a few slip by every now and then. As always leave me a message after this note~Naomi