Disclaimer: The HP-world and it's characters don't belong to me, I merely play around with them, and they like it, trust me!

TEDDY BEAR

By Geena

Rating: PG-ish

Pairing: HG/NL

Summary: Neville has a crush on Hermione, but is too scared to do something about it. Help comes from a very unlikely source … Fluff warning!

When Professor Sprout had suggested a further education in Herbology, Neville Longbottom couldn't have been more ecstatic. He was the first one in his class to decide what he was going to do after graduation, then again, he had always known he would do something with plants. Ever since his first Herbology lesson, Neville had felt at ease in the greenhouses. Here was something he was really good at. The only thing he was good at, as it seemed.

Imagine his shock when Professor Sprout told him that to get into the Herbology Master Course, he had to pass Potions, and with good marks! All colour had drained from his usually rosy cheeks and a wave of panic struck him at the thought of missing out on the one thing he would really enjoy. For a moment he had considered asking Hermione for help, but that wouldn't be fair on her. It was her final year as well, and she needed her time just as much as he did to study for the NEWT's.

That's how he ended up in the dungeons, spending two nights a week in the company of his dreaded Potions Master.

At first he had to go to Madam Pomfrey to take a mild sedative before going to his tutoring sessions, afraid he would embarrass himself too much. After the first sessions, which were very uneasy and seemed to go on forever, Neville started to relax around Snape. The latter had been pleasantly surprised when Neville gave evidence of a thorough knowledge of herbs and plants. From that moment on, Neville no longer trembled, nor did he hesitate to ask questions. Soon, he found that he was learning something and his confidence was growing.

If only his new-found skills wouldn't leave him the minute other students were present ! The normal Potions class remained torture and Snape scowled and berated him as usual. Then, one day, Snape paired him up with Pansy Parkinson, taking his guardian angel away from him. He couldn't focus on his work, kept shooting glances at Hermione, but she never looked back to reassure him. Without her hints and encouragement, he was lost, losing Gryffindor more points than ever.

One evening, when he messed up a potion during his private tutoring session with Snape, the Potions Master lost his patience and burst out in anger.

"You stupid imbecile! No matter the time or effort I put in, you always manage to create absolute chaos. Can't you focus on the subject for one bloody minute ?"

Neville cowered against the far side of the table, he needed to get as much space between Snape and himself as possible. He dropped his head, fearing he had stuffed up his chance at passing Potions.

"I-I'm sorry sir." He squealed.

"Oh for cryin' out loud, stand up straight boy and look me in the eyes. Be a man for a change."

Being the Gryffindor he was, Neville mustered up all the courage he had and looked at his Professor. Instead of the usual loathing and contempt, he only saw annoyance and a slight hint of disappointment.

"It won't happen again sir, I'll make sure."

A low grunt told him Snape needed proof before he believed that.

"I would have thought you'd caught up enough to do well in class, but it only seems to get worse. I even separated you from Granger, so you wouldn't be distracted by drooling over her, but that hasn't helped either." Snape sighed, at his wits end.

Neville's head shot up. What had Snape just said ? Did he drool over Hermione ? In class ? No, it was probably Snape's way to put down a seventeen year old.

Then again …Neville did like Hermione. Very much so. But he didn't think anyone would notice. Of course, Snape wasn't just anyone. For a moment he wondered whether he should ask Snape what he had meant by that remark, but the sheer thought of it made him decide against it. It wouldn't help him in any way. Not that he would ever stand a chance with her. Hermione was very popular. Ever since their first Yule Ball, when she had looked drop dead gorgeous, all the boys had looked at her differently. Before that time, Neville still held some hope she would one day notice him, but after that day, he knew she was never going to be his. In their fifth year she had gone with Ron and last year Harry had taken her to the Ball. With a sigh, Neville concluded this year was probably Malfoy's turn. For Ron was funny, Harry famous and Draco handsome. Neville was none of these things.

"If you're so hung up on the girl, then get it over with and ask her out. You're not going to impress her by blowing up cauldrons." Snape's impatient sneer shook Neville awake from his daydream.

"Erm …"

"Now, I suggest you start over with this potion, and Longbottom, concentrate this time, will you?!"

Snape kept mumbling something about foolish teenage boys, but Neville chose not to pay attention and focussed on his work, he would worry about the twisted knot in his stomach later.

Over the next few days, Neville thought a lot about his feelings for Hermione. Every time she came into the room, his breath caught and his eyes followed her everywhere. When she spoke to him, the buzzing in his ears almost prevented him to hear what she said, making him stutter his answer. She would always smile at him, but with a pang he realised she only did so out of pity.

No, girls like Hermione weren't made for guys like him, he knew very well. Yet it didn't stop him from yearning. He decided he could live with it, stick to admiring her from a distance, be grateful to have her as a friend.

The only thing that worried him now, was that his infatuation was so obvious that everyone would notice. Snape sure had.

They never talked about it though, it wasn't like Snape to interfere with his student's private live, especially when that student happened to be a Gryffindor. Besides, Neville was sure he had only said something about it because he believed it affected Neville's performance in class.

He might have been right about that. As soon as Neville acknowledged the reason for his dependency on Hermione, he did better in Potions class. Not that this resulted in a spectacular change. For every new potion they learned, Neville messed up at least once. All in all the situation had improved significantly and after the first two months of the school year, Neville felt much more at ease at Hogwarts, even in Potions.

One evening, Neville had finished his tutoring session early. He was cleaning up his desk while Snape stored away the left-over ingredients.

"Considering the progress you've made, I think we might cut back these sessions next term. I gather once a week will suffice to keep you up with your lessons."

When Neville didn't say anything, Snape walked towards him, crossed his arms before his chest and continued:

"Well, what do you say to that boy ? Has relief temporarily stupefied you ?"

"Erm, no sir. I mean, I'm glad you think I made progress sir." Neville stuttered.

Snape rolled his eyes and his lips curled nastily.

"You really should learn to speak up boy. You're supposed to graduate at the end of the year. How are you going to survive if you can't even handle the slightest bit of praise ?"

"Uh, I guess I'm still in shock sir." Neville answered, colouring a deeper shade of crimson.

To his utter astonishment, Snape grinned and nodded.

"That's the spirit. Loosen up boy, live a little."

With those words, Neville was dismissed and he returned to his dorm quietly. Snape had been odd tonight. First praising him and then telling him to … Good Lord, Snape was one to tell ! He was the master of gloom himself. Neville shook his head. No, Snape probably hadn't meant he should turn into a Fred and George clone. If he read this right, it seemed like Snape was trying to give him some advice. Urgh. Neville's nose wrinkled as he hastily put that thought away, far away!

Some time during the month of November, the annual Yule Ball was announced. All of Neville's slowly acquired confidence melted away when the thought of having to find a date for the Ball paralysed him.

Of course Snape noticed the chance.

He even guessed the reason.

Damn that man! Was he clairvoyant or something ?

During one long, difficult tutoring session, Snape lost his patience once again and snapped at him.

"Longbottom, clean up that mess and get out. And don't show your face here again until you've got it over and done with."

"Wha…done what sir ?" Neville was almost afraid to ask.

"Ask that annoying know-it-all to accompany you to the Ball of course. Honestly, you're gaping at her the entire time, no doubt clouding your mind with all kinds of fluffy pictures of you and her together. It's alright by me if your other teachers don't mind your distraction, but I do mind when it upsets your concentration. Your knowledge of Herbology is sufficient enough to understand we are dealing with potentially dangerous ingredients here. So get out and come back when you are yourself again. I have no use for a love-sick puppy in my classroom."

"I… I can't do that sir." Neville trembled.

"What do you mean ? There's nothing to it. Just go over to her and ask the question, how difficult can it be ?"

"…scared." Neville mumbled.

Snape stretched his back to his full length, towering over a quivering Neville.

"Are you telling me asking a girl out on a date, a girl you've known for almost seven years, is more frightening to you than risking my anger ?"

"Ehm, yes." Neville grinned sheepishly.

"Good Merlin, you really are hopeless!" Snape exclaimed.

"I-I know sir, but I can't help it."

"Like hell you can't! Longbottom, I order you to look for miss Granger this instant and ask her. NOW!"

Snape took Neville by the elbow and dragged him towards the door, slapping it behind him.

Neville was shaking like a leaf. This couldn't be happening! Was he going to fail Potions because he was afraid to ask Hermione out ? He clenched his fists in his sides, pumping himself up, trying to find his famous Gryffindor courage.

When he got to the common room, Hermione sat bent over her books. As if Snape planned it, they were all alone.

Closing his eyes briefly, Neville took a deep breath and decided to go for it.

"H-Hello Hermione." He said softly.

"Oh hi Neville. Did Snape release you early today ?" She smiled.

"Y-Yeah. Ehm, listen Hermione, there's something I'd like to ask you." Neville continued quickly, before his resolve left him.

"Yes ?"

"Would…would you come to the Yule Ball with me ?" He asked in a tiny voice.

Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"Why… yes, of course I'll go with you Neville. You sure are an early bird aren't you!" She laughed.

Neville smiled back, not even hearing what she had to say about dresses and dances, the butterflies in his stomach had taken control over his entire being and they weren't about to let go very soon.

Over the following weeks, Neville seemed to be glowing with an extra dosage of confidence. Snape never came back to the conversation that had made him pop the question, but the very next tutoring session, Snape sized him up, nodded and got him started on an advanced potion.

As the moment of truth drew nearer, Neville was a prey to his nerves once again. He became painfully aware of the fact that he didn't know how to dance. And what would he say all evening to her ? He wasn't the world's greatest conversationalist. Above all that, when word got out he was taking Hermione to the Yule Ball, a lot of students had made it clear that they all thought it was some kind of joke. It didn't help at all.

Therefore, it was on giant lump of misery that knocked on Snape's door for the final tutoring session before the Yule Ball.

"What is it now, Longbottom ?" Snape sighed after taking one look at his student.

"I'm afraid I don't know what to do at the Ball sir." Neville said in a sad tone.

"Afraid to ask someone out, afraid to dance, what's next Longbottom ? Afraid to live ?! Get over it boy and enjoy yourself, that's all you'll have to do, make sure she has a good time and all will turn out just fine."

He nodded, understanding what Snape said perfectly, but how on earth was he going to show her a good time if he couldn't dance ?

Neville decided to confide in Ginny Weasley. She was more than happy to show him a few steps, knowing how painful his dancing could be from first hand experience.

And so he found himself in front of the mirror, straightening out his dress-robes, ready to go down and meet Hermione for the big night.

He tried to do something about his hair. It had grown to a considerable length, almost reaching his shoulders, and now it wouldn't stay straight. A certain amount of strands kept sticking out and no matter what he tried, they wouldn't obey his straightening spells.

With a sigh he gave up and glanced one more time in the mirror to check if anything else was wrong. What he saw was a tall young man, his growth spurt putting an end to all those remarks about him being chubby, with a round face that showed more character than it used to. Nothing spectacular like Malfoy's angelic looks or Harry's muscular Quidditch body, but Neville was quite content.

When he got downstairs, Hermione just entered the common room.

Neville nearly dropped from the final step, his mouth falling before he regained enough sense to close it. She looked absolutely fantastic! In brand new dark blue dress-robes that flowed around her like a soft breeze, she wore her hair up high, with only a few curls reaching her neck. Oh how he longed to trade places with one of those curls!

Finally composing himself, he picked up her hand and presented her with a single white rose.

"Oh Neville, what a beautiful flower!" Hermione exclaimed.

She beamed up at him and pinned it on her dress, Neville nearly floating behind her when they stepped out of the portrait hole.

The party had already started when they arrived and Neville revelled in all those surprised and envious looks thrown at them as they entered the Great Hall.

He guided her to a chair and after greeting Harry, Ron and Ginny with their respective dates, they began to eat.

The meal was over much too soon for Neville's taste and after dessert, Dumbledore opened the Ball with Professor McGonagall.

There was no escape.

Neville stood up and formally asked Hermione to dance.

She jumped up and practically dragged him towards the dance floor.

It was a slow-walz and Neville relaxed a bit. The steps weren't all that difficult and if he concentrated while he kept counting, he was sure he wouldn't step on her feet.

However, this wasn't the way to entertain her during the dance. She expected at least some conversation and soon her gaze wandered to the other couples who were merrily chatting away.

Then things got even worse when Harry asked Hermione for a dance.

With despair Neville saw how great they were together, dancing like they were made for each other.

He sighed and made his way towards the exit. Better end it this way.

"And where do you think you're going ?" A dark sarcastic voice stopped him.

"I… I need some air." Neville answered weakly.

"Oh really ? To me it looked like you were sneaking off, leaving your date all by herself. Not very gentleman-like of you, mister Longbottom." Snape continued.

"She'll have a much better time without me." Neville blurted out.

"Longbottom, get back in there and tell Potter to dance with his own date."

"But – but I don't know what to do." Neville wrung his hands nervously.

"Dance of course! Or get her something to drink. Talk. Whatever!" Snape rolled his eyes, his mouth drawn to a very thin line, showing his contempt.

There was nothing else to do.

Neville went back and when Harry returned Hermione from the dance floor, he asked her if she wanted to drink something.

Over a fresh glass of punch, they talked about Herbology a bit, a safe topic for Neville.

Then he noticed Hermione throwing longing looks at the dance floor and from the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy approaching.

He didn't hesitate and stood up.

"Let's dance." He said with more confidence than he felt.

Lucky for him it was a slow-dance.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and all he had to do was follow her example. At first he held her a bit awkwardly, trying to keep her at arms length. A short glance towards the back of the room where Snape stood frowning at him, made him pull her closer.

He heard her sigh and she put her head on his shoulder, which was at just the right height for her to do so.

Startled, he looked around in panic and again Snape's silent nod urging him on. He dropped his head a bit so his cheek brushed against her temple and he was welcomed by her smiling eyes.

They stayed like that the entire dance and when another, similar one started, they kept going.

"You're so sweet, you know." Hermione whispered.

Neville smiled, knowing she'd expect him to, but he didn't know if he liked being called 'sweet'. He wanted to be tough, smart, handsome, whatever. But sweet ? Oh well, if she wanted to call him that, he wouldn't tell her he didn't like it. At least she called him something and that was better than nothing.

Another glance at Snape showed the Potions Master nodding again.

What on earth did he want Neville to do now ? Things were going fine !

Then Hermione shifted and planted a feathery kiss on his cheek.

Neville's breath caught and he flushed. From the corner of his eye he saw Snape curling his lips and now he understood.

Hesitantly he kissed her too, almost afraid she would run away.

The song ended much too soon. Neville could have danced like that for ages, but the band had already started on an up-tempo number.

"Let's go outside for a while, it's hot in here." Hermione said.

Their hands never left each other, stepping into the magical garden.

They walked around for a while, him telling her what kinds of plants and flowers they were passing.

At a secluded gazebo, Hermione stopped him and turned to face him.

"Neville, I'm really enjoying tonight. I had no idea you were such a good dancer."

He blushed at her praise, also recalling the kisses. He wanted to say something, but his mind was put to stop when he felt soft lips brushing against his.

Her arms snaked around his neck and before he had time to think about it, he had placed one hand at the small of her back, the other a few inches higher, holding her close.

He leaned in to answer the kiss, his stomach fluttering.

When her tongue tentatively licked at his lips, he let her in, his own tongue stroking against hers as if it was greeting a long lost friend.

He could have sworn his feet had left the ground and all coherent thoughts left him as he was consumed by their kiss.

Some time later, they broke apart for air. Both were flushed and breathing heavily, Neville's shyness kicking in full-force.

Too astonished to speak, he did the only thing he could come up with. He pulled her close once more and claimed her lips for another long kiss.

They had been away from the Ball for Merlin knows how long when Neville felt a slight panic creep in. What was he to do next ? Stay here until they had to return to their dorm ? Go back for some more dancing ? Should he ask her what she wanted to do ? Wouldn't she consider that a sign of weakness or exactly the opposite ? Confusion read on his face and he decided to have one more kiss and maybe he'd know what to do after that.

"Mister Longbottom, miss Granger, if you both would be so kind to return to the Great Hall, we wouldn't want you to catch a cold." Snape's usual bark sounded loud in the silent night, ending Neville's dilemma.

Neville had never been more relieved to see his Potions teacher. He knew very well the gardens were heated and there was no danger of them catching a cold, but this was one order Neville was all too happy to follow.

They walked back, Hermione muttering something about an interfering old git, but Neville looked back over his shoulder at Snape and winked at him, which didn't even cost him House Points.

THE END