Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. I just own the plot and the few original characters. All familiar content belongs to J.K. Rowling

Part One

"Watch those plants Longbottom, they're beginning to overgrow," Filch growled, his beady black eyes eying the large patch of what appeared to be Devil's Snare nearly breaking through the concrete floors of Green House #6. The vines were thick, about the size of an average man's arm, and the sharp prongs sticking out in various angles made the plant look even more dangerous.

Twenty-six year-old Neville Longbottom tossed a careless glance over his shoulder to see the plants Filch was complaining about, and rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry Filch, it's just Flitterbloom, when the sunsets they'll go back into their bulbs." He said, voice monotone, scratching the newly grown facial hair on his cheek.

Neville made it clear that he could careless of Filch's warnings, his body language was casual, left eyebrow raised, arms folded and the tapping of his tennis shoes shown that Filch was testing his patience. With one last snarl, Filch spun and left the room, his cloak doing an amazing impression of what Professor Snape's used to do.

"I liked him better back when he was afraid of everything." Filch muttered lowly, his body disappearing when he turned the corner, not knowing that Neville had heard.

Neville unconsciously ran his hand across his cheek. Beneath his short beard, he could feel the thick scar that marred his face from his cheek bone to his jaw. Neville's hands gripped one of the desks and his eyes glazed over as memories of his final year of Hogwarts unfolded in his mind.

"Now class, I need a volunteer. We must show Mr. Longbottom, what purebloods are supposed to do to blood traitors."

Neville squinted at the number of classmates sitting in front of him. He couldn't see their faces, because of the bright light being emitted from the tip of Professor Carrow's wand. He could only see their silhouettes. Some hands were raised--'Slytherins', he thought—while others were tucked under their seats, bodies nervously swaying, wondering what was going to happen to the only standing leader of Dumbledore's Army.

Three-quarters through is final year of school, Neville was the sole leader of the Hogwarts Rebellion. Ginny had been taken into hiding a month before and Luna had been missing since Christmas break. All of those who had been sworn into DA found it increasingly difficult to stand up against the Carrows, and they soon dropped their profiles—everyone except Neville.

"Why Mr. Crabbe, how nice of you to volunteer." Neville could practically hear the sadistic smile that crawled onto Amycus's face.

The bulky body of Vincent Crabbe strutted down the rows of desks and in front of Neville. The ugly, troll-like features of Crabbe that was pulled into what was supposed to be a smile, suddenly came into view as his heavy steps came near.

" Okay Vincent, I'm sure you've studied well."

If he weren't tied up and his wand out of reach, Neville would have laughed at the idea of Crabbe studying.

"Now Vincent, punish Mr. Longbottom for what he had done."

Neville remembered hours before when he had helped one of the muggleborn first years escape Millicent Bullstrode's Bat Bogey hex.

'What a load of bullocks,' Neville thought to himself, as he watched the dull red glow of Crabbe's wand turn towards him.

"Neville...Neville? Neville are you alright?"

The memories of the past flooded out of his mind as Neville turned to face his new guest. Blood rushed up to his face when he noticed Professor Ollerton standing in the doorway, her perfectly arched eyebrows connected together in worry.

"I—sorry, Daisy, I was, uh, just," Neville was flustered. He felt like he was thirteen years old again, being scolded by McGonagall for writing down all of the common room passwords on a piece of paper.

"I was just...thinking," he finished lamely. In his mind, Neville scolded himself. 'Good lord get a hold of yourself man, you've faced Voldemort himself yet you can't face a girl.'

Daisy Ollerton, who replaced Professor McGonagall as Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration two years ago, became Neville's secret infatuation the moment he met her during summer holidays, when he first accepted his teaching position.

Daisy smiled warmly and nodded.

"Just wanted to tell you that the students just got into Hogsmede and that the festivities will be starting soon," she said smiling, her sea green eyes observed the green room. Her voice was soft and breathy, it reminded Neville of a warm summer breeze.

"Did you decorate all of the green rooms like this?" she asked, lightly touching the pink flower of a Plangentine vine.

Neville swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yes, I thought it'd be nice for the green houses to actually look green for once." Olive laughed and nodded.

Thick vines of various plants—much to Filch's dislike—tangled itself in the single stone wall of the green house. It was a rather beautiful sight, and Neville prided himself in his decorating.

As Daisy was admiring the vines and flowers on the wall, Neville tried his best to clean himself up a bit. He had been in the Green Houses all day, as he had been for the past month and a half, weeding the pots and tending to the plants, and Neville smelled like a ripe Screechsnap. He pushed his hair from out of his eyes, and dusted off his dirt-covered jeans.

"None of these are poisonous are they? I'd hate to see one of the students—oh!" Daisy asked turning towards Neville, and noticed, much to his chagrin, that he was in the middle of pulling his dark blue robes on over his muggle clothes.

"Erm--" he faltered, "no, none of the plants are poisonous—at least not in this green house, there's one with Venomous Tentacula, but none of them are teething at the moment, so the kids will be fine."

On the inside, Neville was smiled a little, after noticing the faint rosy tint in Daisy's cheeks. But on the outside, Neville was beat red, clothes askew, covered in dirt.

"I—um, I see you need some time tidying up," she said turning to leave, but quickly turned back to face Neville and taking a step forward—much to the surprise of him. Daisy lifted her dainty hand and lightly brushed away some dirt on Neville's cheek. She smiled.

"I'll see you at dinner." With one more once-over at the class room and a glance over her shoulder at Neville, Daisy left the room, her stylish high heels clicking loudly down the corridor.

Neville let out a heavy sigh and slouched against one of the nearest desks. He gingerly touched his fingertips where Daisy had touched him.

The heavy ring of the giant clock in the North Tower signaled that it was six o'clock and that the children will be sorted soon. Jumping out of his stupor, Neville, hurried out of the green house, jogging slightly down the corridors until he reached the heavy oak doors of the Great Hall.

Unlink the rest of the Hogwarts staff, Neville didn't really like the private corridors meant for teachers only—they were too cramped for his liking. When he was first wandering the hallways during summer break he nearly got stuck in one. Thankfully Daisy was heading down that same corridor and rescued Neville from his embarrassing predicament.

Neville entered the Great Hall, and was greeted by a hundreds of pairs of eyes. He let out a nervous chuckled as he made his way to the High Table, receiving many curious looks from students, especially those of the female gender.

"That's Neville Longbottom!"

"No way! The Neville Longbottom?!"

Neville blushed at all of the attention and ungraciously sat next to the ever-aging Professor Flitwick and Professor Ollerton's empty seat.

'She's probably rounding up the first years,' he thought, nervously scratching at his short beard.

"Are you nervous Neville?" Professor Flitwick asked, eyes shining brightly, his stringy white hair poofing around his head like a giant cumulus cloud.

"Well, I'm better than I'd thought I'd be," Neville said, his eyes scanning the hall anxiously. Flitwick laughed and took another sip of his pumpkin juice.

"We've all been there son, we've all been there," he said reassuringly, patting him on his shoulder (though it was quite the reach for tiny little Flitwick) and turning to Headmaster Eisley on their previous conversation of the recent vampire riots in France.

Neville nearly jumped out of his chair, when Hagrid's large body pushed open the Great Hall's doors all the way, with Daisy and all of the new first years following behind them in an uneven, patchy line. Hagrid handed Daisy, what Neville was guessing, the parchment that had all of the first year's names, and placed the stool and the infamous Hogwarts Sorting Hat in the center of the stage.

The hall fell silent, and the Sorting Hat started it's song. Neville watched with a small smile on his lips as the Sorting Hat sang. He owed his life to that hat. During the final battle, it helped him pull Godric Gryffindor's sword out of it and slay Voldemort's snake (the sword was currently resting on his desk in his office).

The Sorting Hat's song ended and the hall applauded. Daisy stepped forward once more and gazed down at the first years.

"When I call your name," Daisy started, her voice, though soft, had the same authoritative tone Professor McGonagall's held when he was sorted years ago, "you will up to the stool, and be sorted into your new house."

"Anderson, Janis!" Daisy called, and the group of first years parted, revealing a pretty brown-eyed girl. Daisy lifted up the Sorting hat and beckoned for young Janis to come. The bespectacled girl shyly made her way up to the stool, slowly sitting on the stool (which was quiet the struggle, since the poor girl was hardly a couple inches taller than it). Daisy placed the hat on her dark curly hair and the hall waited for the hat's decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat cried and the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers. Even Neville clapped loudly, after all, he was the new Head of Gryffindor. The shy little girl made her way towards her new table and was engulfed in a sea of red and gold.

Soon the cheers dissolved and Daisy continued with the sorting.

"Beaudelaire, Maxamillion!" "RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Natalie" "SLYTHERIN!"

"Channing, Grace!" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

As bad as it sounds, Neville wasn't really paying attention to any of his students, but focus more on the petite frame of Daisy Ollerton. Even when wearing her dark purple robes—which reminded Neville a little of Dumbledore's robes—it was easy to tell that Daisy had a very fine ars--

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The whole Hall cheered as a blond haired green eyed boy strutted his way towards the Gryffindor table. Neville absentmindedly clapped, a little embarrassed that he caught himself thinking of Daisy in such a way. 'Pervert,' he scolded.

A few more students were sorted before Daisy finally called the last student.

"And finally, Zullie, Megan!" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

It was the loudest the hall had cheered—probably because they were more happy for the fact that they were about to eat than the new Hufflepuff. Daisy removed the Sorting Hat and stool from the center stage and made her way towards her seat.

It was all in slow motion for Neville. Daisy walking toward him—well to her seat. Her curly long hair bouncing lightly with ever step she took. The small smile on her face seemed reserved just for Neville. The sway of her hips. The slight bounce of her cleava--

"Neville are you alright?" Daisy wasn't walking towards him anymore. She was already seated and staring worriedly at Neville. There it is again. The blood rushed up to his bearded cheeks.

"I—uhh..."

"Thinking again?" she asked, her smile growing larger, revealing her small pearly white teeth. Neville just nodded, currently unable to from words. With one last smile, Daisy turned towards Headmaster Eisley who had already begun his speech.

Eisley was a plump old man with balding white hair and a red face. 'Kind of like muggle Santa Claus,' Neville thought. It didn't help that Eisley's robes were red with white trim.

"...a horrible and painful death. Now, I'd like to introduce our new Herbology teacher and Gryffindor Head of House, Professor Neville Longbottom."

The Gryffindor house cheered loudly as Neville stood up and waved. 'Hopefully, my first day of teaching will be better than my first day of school,' Neville thought as he sat back down, after receiving some cat calls from some seventh year Ravenclaws.

"It seems that you're already popular with our students already," Daisy whispered, being very clandestine, for her eyes never left Professor Eisley's round figure.

"They're just being nice," Neville retorted, a faint red tint creeping up behind his beard.

"Oh please Neville," Daisy rolled her eyes, "not only are you younger than fifty, but you're also one of the heroes of the Great War, of course you're popular."

Neville's breath was caught in his throat. He stopped being so subtle and turned towards Daisy, his dark brown eyes making contact with her sea green ones.

"I'm no hero," he said with a frown.

Daisy shrugged with a smile, ignoring his frown. "I think you are."

Part Two

"MERRY CHRISTMAS NEVILLE!"

Every year since the war, Neville always attended Mr. And Mrs Weasley's Christmas party. The Burrow was cram-packed full of the whole Weasley family and guests.

Like every other year, Molly Weasley greeted him at the door with hugs and warm biscuits, herding him towards the living room where everyone was sitting.

"Hey Neville, how's it going?" Harry asked, shaking his hand firmly. Harry and Neville became close friends over the years, especially after the war. During a period in his life after, the war when he was throughly depressed, Harry confided in Neville that there had been a fifty-fifty chance that it would have been Neville who would have faced Voldemort and not him. With their fate being closely tied together, it came naturally that Neville was one of Harry's closest friends.

"Pretty good, teaching isn't as hard as you made it look," Neville joked as he drank a bit of his butterbeer. Harry laughed and took a sip from his own mug.

"How's Teddy?" Neville asked, searching the crowd of red heads for a little boy with oddly colored hair. He finally spotted him sitting on the love seat—his hair a charming teal—next to little Victoire Weasley.

"He's great, he loves visiting the Weasley's, but I'm guessing that's only because Molly babysits Victoire when Bill and Fleur are working." Harry chuckled.

"Ahh, young love," Neville sighed overly-dramatically causing Harry to snort.

"What's so funny?" a familiar deep voice asked. Harry and Neville waved as Ron and Hermione slowly made it towards their corner.

Harry nodded towards Teddy and Victoire, as Teddy snaked his arm around Victoire's waist. Ron and Hermione laughed.

"You know, for an eight-year-old, that kid's quite the lady killer." Neville joked as he finished off one of his gingerbread men.

"Speaking of lady killers," a voice said from behind them, "my niece says that her two favorite professors at Hogwarts seem to be getting pretty cozy."

Audrey Weasley, Percy's wife, smiled knowingly as she took a bite out of her gingerbread man.

Neville choked a bit on his butterbeer. "What?"

"Neville, how could you? Why didn't you tell us that you had a girlfriend? Oh! Why didn't you bring her?!" Hermione began to hound him, her own mug butterbeer splashing a bit.

"Hermione love, calm down." Ron said, pulling her back, receiving an appreciative look from Neville.

"Who's your niece Audrey?" Neville asked.

"Little Janis Anderson."

'Ah, of course,' Neville thought. Janis was sorted in to his house this year and quickly became a couple teachers favorites—his included. She was a bit shy for a Gryffindor, but that's why Neville liked her-- she reminded him of himself back when he was a first year—just not as klutzy.

"I would give her extra homework, but she's one of my favorite students," Neville muttered under his breath.

Audrey laughed and winked, "Shouldn't play favorites" she walked back to Percy, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"So, what's her name?" Hermione asked, her arms folded, face covered with that familiar Hermione look that easily said "I-won't-stop-until-you-tell-me-everything."

"What's who's name?" A pregnant Ginny Weasley—now Potter—made her way towards their group, her eyebrow gingerly raised.

"Neville's girlfriend," Harry answered, rubbing Ginny's plump belly. Her eyes grew wide and she turned towards Neville.

"Neville why didn't you bring her?! What's her name?" Ginny scolded, wearing the same look Hermione had on her face.

Neville sighed.

"Daisy, Daisy Ollerton."

"Ollerton? Like the creators of the Cleansweep broom brand? They related? Think she could hook me up with some free gear?" Ron suggested, his eye brows bouncing up and down.

"Honestly Ron," Hermione scolded, rolling her eyes, though, her smile gave her away, "anyway, how long have you two been dating?"

"We aren't dating!" Neville exclaimed, the red rushing up to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"But you want to be, don't you?" Harry said slyly.

Neville didn't answer, but the shining blush on his face gave his answer away. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione laughed.

"Have you at least made a move on her?" Ron asked. Neville got even redder and shrugged.

"I—er, I sent her flowers," he muttered, staring down at his muggle shoes.

"That will be 6 galleons, Mr. Longbottom," Mr. Walkins said cheerfully, pushing a bouquet of white carnations towards him.

Mr. Walkins was the owner of Walkins Botanical, a lovely flower shop in muggle London. Neville had been searching for flowers to give Daisy—for it was her birthday and when he spotted the carnations in the window he knew that they would be perfect for Daisy.

"Thank you sir," Neville handed Mr. Walkins some muggle cash and walked out of the shop, gingerly holding the plastic wrap that held a dozen white carnations with pale pink gloxinias. He walked hurriedly up the street and down an alley way and, after making sure everything was clear, apparated to Hogsmede. Shrinking the bouquet to the size of a key, he lightly protected it from unseeing eyes as he entered Hogs Head.

"Hullo Neville," Aberforth Dumbledore greeted him as he wiped down the bar, "'oo's the flowers for?"

Neville paused and speculated how Aberforth knew he had a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand, but shook it off and smiled. Even though Aberforth didn't have the fancy boots and kind smile, he was more like his elder brother Albus than he'd like to admit.

"Never mind that Abe, I just need to get to the castle," he said, waving lightly at the portrait of Ariana before pushing it out of the way. He lit his wand, and the warm silver glow guided him down the secret passage way. Ahead of him, he saw that he had reached his destination and lowered his wand.

The room of requirement looked like the headquarters of Dumbledore's Army years ago. 'Probably because of the old passage way,' Neville thought as he exited the room and headed towards the Owlery.

He managed to avoid the piles of Owl dropings and found his old own Abraxus. Abraxus was an old owl—belonging to his grandmother previously—with silver wings and a plump belly.

Neville grew the flowers back to size and checked his watch. 'Ten minutes 'till lunch starts, gives me fifteen minutes until post goes out," he thought and noticed the little card dangling between two carnations. "Nearly forgot," he muttered to himself and pulled a muggle pen out of his pocket and wrote:

Gloxinia – Love at first sight

White Carnations – Pure love

Frowning slightly at his unruly scrawl, he shrugged and placed the card into the bouquet. He turned towards Abraxus, gingerly placing the bouquet into the birds scaly claws.

"Send these to Professor Ollerton—be careful, alright Ab?" The owl hooted, and puffed his chest out proudly as if to say "How dare you?"

Neville ignored the look that the owl was sending him and headed towards the Great Hall, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Aw that's sweet of you Neville," Ginny said, but then her smile turned into a frown and she smacked Harry.

"What was that for?!" Harry exclaimed, rubbing his chest.

"Neville's not even dating this girl and he sends her flowers, you and I are married and I have yet to see a single rose!"

Neville squirmed. "I sent her a couple bouquets actually—each bouquet is a different type of flower—but, but I didn't, er, sign my name on the cards."

Hermione and Ginny cooed, "Aw Neville that's so romantic, you're like her secret admirer!"

"Good lord mate, you're making us look like shit," Ron muttered, taking a swig of his butterbeer. Hermione elbowed him in the gut.

"Does she have an idea that it might be you?" Hermione asked. She and Ginny leaned in, their eyes wide and smiles sly.

"Er—well, I am the Herbology teacher," he said, stating the obvious.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Has she said anything to you?"

"Well," Neville scratched the back of his head, "she invited me to her office for tea--"

"Oh God you shagged her didn't you!" Ron exclaimed a grin creeping onto his and Harry's faces.

Neville shook his head, "No, no, no. We just had tea, but now it's more like a daily thing. We have tea, talk about anything on our minds, sometimes we walk around the grounds..." he trailed off.

"But you guys haven't snogged or anything?" Hermione asked.

"Er—no," Neville shrugged. A determined look fell over both Ginny and Hermione.

"You have to make the first move Neville," they said in unison.

"I, I can't," Neville stressed.

There it is. Old Neville was back again. The stuttering, the blushing, the tripping over nothing. It brought smiles to their faces to know that the war hadn't hardened Neville, like it had others.

"That's so sweet Neville, you're in love," Hermione smiled, before dragging Ron away. Harry and Ginny gave Neville one more smile, before heading towards the now sleeping Teddy.

When the party ended, the only people awake were Harry, Ron, Neville, Percy, Bill and George, all of whom were drunk on fire whiskey.

"Al-Alright you guys, I've got to head back to the castle," Neville stumbled over his words and over a stool, as he hobbled towards the fireplace.

"Aw c'mon Nev, stay over here for a bit," George gushed as his white-knuckled grip on the fire whiskey bottle never loosened.

Neville shook his head wildly. "Can't mate, I've got some --er--teacher stuff to do." He let out a giggle and grasped a hand full of green floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

"Hogwarts Castle, Professor Longbottom's Office!" he said with strange ease and in a burst of green flames, Neville was back into his office.

He gripped the coat rack next to the fireplace for dear life as he tried to equal out his head. His mind was swimming. Neville could never really hold his liquor.

After finally being able to walk in straight lines, Neville decided that he wasn't tired, and that he was a bit on the hungry side. 'Where the Hell am I going to get food at 1 in the morning?' he thought, and then suddenly he remembered.

He slowly but surely made his way out of his office and headed towards the secret entrance of the kitchens, Harry had told him about when he first told his friends that he was going to be teaching at the school. Neville strolled down the dimly lit corridors, his sneakers squeaking every once in a while against the stone floor. His footing was uneven, due to the large about of alcohol in his system.

Neville finally reached the portrait and tickled the pear, stepping ungracefully through the portrait and into the kitchens.

"Neville?"

Through his glossy brown eyes, Neville saw Daisy, sitting at a small table, with cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate. She was wearing a flimsy silk robe, which Neville could see through and make out a short red teddy.

"Daisy? Wha-what are you doing here?" Neville tried to straighten himself up as much as possible, but the alcohol prevented it.

"I'm just having a late night snack—a-are you drunk?" Neville couldn't say anything, a sudden dizzy spell came about and his head was swirling.

"Here, let me help you," Daisy sat up from her seat and lightly guided Neville into the chair across from her. Neville didn't mind. Her robe opened up and reviled the red teddy he had eyed earlier, giving him full view of Daisy's small, perky breasts.

"I—I received your flowers, thank you, they're beautiful" she blushed, nodding toward a vase with a dozen red roses. Neville's eyes grew wide.

"You knew it was me?" he asked, the firewhiskey's effect dissolving a little. Daisy smiled and looked at him through her eyelashes.

"Well you just admitted it, and, I had a hunch," she shrugged, "you are the Herbology teacher after all." Neville chuckled to himself, thinking back to his conversation with Hermione and Ginny.

A comfortable silence fell between the two. Even after all of the planning, Neville never really thought about what happens after she finds out that he was sending her the flowers.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her small voice breaking the silence. Daisy hesitantly pushed away his dark curly bangs, and cupped Neville's reddening cheek. Surprising both of them, Neville reached up and placed her small hand in his. He slowly lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly.

"I'm feeling so much more better, now that I'm around you," Neville said. If he were sober, Neville wouldn't have been able to even state that sentence, let alone hold her hand.

Liquid courage is on his side tonight.

Daisy blushed, but didn't retract her hand.

"You're just saying that because you're drunk," she muttered, looking down, her long sooty lashes fluttering against her lovely pink cheeks.

"To be honest a little," Neville admitted, immediately catching Daisy's eye. "I mean, if I weren't drunk, I probably wouldn't be able to have this conversation with you with stuttering and blushing."

Daisy smiled and softly stroked the palm of his hand with her fingertips.

"You're really sweet Neville," she said shyly. Neville grinned.

"I like it when you do that."

Daisy blinked, "Do what?"

"When you look at me through you eye lashes, and when you blush, and when you smile."

Their faces were like slow moving magnets. Slowly but surely, their faces got closer and closer until Neville's lips met Daisy's. Apart, their mouths shouldn't even be matched up together. His, wide with thin lips, hers, small with very plump lips. Together, they seemed perfect.

He didn't know if it was the booze making him think this way, but Daisy was an amazing kisser. It was almost painful to make it end, but their lips had to part—for both of them were in need of air.

Daisy's eyes were wide, her small mouth forming an 'o' shape. A goofy grin never left Neville's face.

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting do to that." Daisy became even redder.

They deserted the food on the table and left the kitchens, their hands tangled with each others. Neville walked her to her office. He felt like a school boy dropping his date off home—only he was a little buzzed and his date lived down the hall from him.

"Merry Christmas Neville," Daisy said kissing his cheek.

"Merry Christmas Daisy," he murmured, leaning in for another kiss. It was just as perfect as the one in the kitchens.

Daisy let out a content sigh as they pulled away, her eyes closed. She slowly opened them and took a small step back into the small crack of her door way. With a small wave, she disappeared behind her office door.

Neville stood in front of her door grinning for a good minute before turning to leave for his own office. He let out a loud "whoop!" and hi-fived a suit of armor before entering his room. He ran and jumped onto his bed, leaning back onto the multitude of pillows and sighed happily, before drifting off to pleasant dreams about the lovely miss Daisy Ollerton.

This was my first story published, please review. :]