A HariPo fanfiction
Note: Another entry for my prompt challenge forum topic, found here: http : // forum .fanfiction. net /topic /44309 /25299326 /1/ (Just take out the spaces.) The Harry Potter cast belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me. But I'm the one who came up with this weird pairing. If you like this, then go back and read "Given" and "Colors of the Heart." Besides that, read, review, and enjoy!
"At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet." –Plato
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry –it is one of the most notable and well-respected of all the magical academies.
It is also know for its teachers –some not in the way one would think.
Victoire Weasley huffed as she made her way to Herbology. Teddy Lupin had finally graduated from the school last year, so he was no longer the object of her affection. Well, that was a little misleading. She'd dropped her crush on him last year way before he'd graduated because…
She'd fallen for an older man.
Yes, Victoire knew most girls had that type of crush at some point in their lives. However, the Weasley daughter had not expected to be one of those girls herself. It happened, though, and Victoire was surprised to find she was pulled by Neville Longbottom, her Herbology professor.
It wasn't like Neville was ugly. It was quite the opposite –he was easily the handsomest teacher –no, man –in the whole school. She knew he hadn't always been so good-looking; her family's school tales all described him as a gangly youth. He was no gangly youth anymore, though.
Vicky pursed her lips as Neville rolled up his sleeves and churned some soil with his bare hands. He had very strong arms that called to mind the story of him beheading Lord Voldemort's last horcrux, the snake Nagini, with Godric Gryffindor's sword. It was a tale that spoke of Neville's outstanding bravery, something which Victoire admired.
"…Weasley? Miss Weasley?" Neville waved a hand in front of her face. "Victoire?"
Vicky blinked, coming out of her reverie. How could she be so stupid as to not pay attention in his class?! She smiled her winning grin. "I'm sorry, professor. You were saying?"
His brow furrowed. "I asked that everyone start the assignment. You need to mix your soil and then gently place the Jittery Juniper in its hole." He passed her the magical plant. "Is something the matter, Miss Weasley? You've never disrupted class before."
She bit her tongue to keep from saying anything stupid. Her cheeks burned a red as dark as her cousin Rose's red hair. When she took a few breaths, she was ready. "They say it's good to daydream, professor. A daydream a day to create the wonders you may."
To her surprise, Neville laughed, but he wasn't laughing at her. "That was very insightful, Miss Weasley. It's not wonder you're in Ravenclaw."
Vicky nodded, but frowned. If she was so smart, then why had she fallen for her teacher? It was the only question to which she lacked an answer.
4 weeks later…
"Ahem. Miss Weasley…"
Victoire inaudibly gasped. She'd done it again. Why –why couldn't she focus in his class anymore? Her little crush shouldn't be impacting her class work at all.
Yet there she was, holding the Gurdygantuan (very large Gurdy Root) Pod. The same pod was the one that had been squeezed to the point of exploding all over her and Neville. He quirked an eyebrow in annoyance –the first she'd ever seen him do that. "You were getting ahead of yourself there, Miss Weasley. I asked that you milk it under one of the available clay pots."
She frowned and dropped her eyes. "Sorry, professor. It won't happen again, professor."
"I should like to hope not, Miss Weasley."
Though she hated hearing that "Miss Weasley" in his buggered tone of voice, it quickly became the only thing she heard out of him as she kept screwing up. Poor sixteen-year-old Victoire's grade was suffering now, too.
Finally, when she'd tripped during a class and nearly decapitated him with the clippers, he snapped. "Miss Weasley!" he scolded. "Please follow me after class."
For the rest of class, Vicky was not allowed to participate. Afterwards, she followed Neville out back and helped him carry supplies into the greenhouse. An unbearable silence hung between them for a long while.
"What is wrong, Victoire?" Neville asked with his back turned to her. He watered the plants while waiting for her answer.
"I suppose…," she began slowly, "that a mind is not an impartial thing." She twisted her hair into a ponytail as he gave her the most flabbergasted face.
Victoire shrugged, ignoring the rising heat of her cheeks. "I meant what I said." She thought for a moment. "I guess I mean that no part of a human is entirely objective."
Neville pursed his lips and half-scoffed. "That's you explanation for your behavior lately?" He stood and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
She turned away, her heart beating rapidly at her wish to be fitted against that strong chest. "Answers are only what the listener perceives them as; they are never facts." She smirked a little. The Sorting Hat had chosen correctly; her Ravenclaw intelligence was really helping her skirt around the issue.
He rolled his eyes. "So I don't get a straight answer?"
The wizard put his hands on his hips as he closed the few meters between them. "Miss Weasley, I am very close to deducting point from your house for your bothersome attitude."
She growled. "Stop calling me 'Miss Weasley!'" Victoire blinked and gasped. Oh, crap… She hadn't meant to speak a straight word to him! Vicky had been trying so hard not to let any conversation be directed back to her –and the one thing she was trying to avoid: her feelings!
Neville stared at her, first puzzled and then slowly comprehending. "You hate that?"
She said nothing.
"You truly hate that?"
Vicky closed her eyes. The truth was that she loved hearing her name in his slightly rough voice, but she didn't want to hear it in annoyance or with detachment. "No…," she admitted.
Now it dawned on him. "Y-You're distracted because…"
The witch heard him exhale slowly. She opened her eyes just in time to see him bend down and kiss her forehead. She blushed cherry red, a sight at which he chuckled, but his cheeks were dusted pink, too.
"No more cryptic messages, dear girl." He ruffled her hair and hugged her to him with one arm. "Plato said that at the touch of love everyone becomes a poet."
"So I'm not allowed to encode my feelings anymore?" she asked impishly.
She laughed at the look on his face. "No…but can you wait until you not my student anymore at least?"
"But I want to be your student."
"No," he corrected, surprising her with a kiss on the lips –which he followed up by squishing a Gurdygantuan Pod on both of them to get her back for earlier. "You want to be my girlfriend."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Is that such a bad thing?"
He laughed. "Not when it's mutual, my dear Miss Weasley."
"You know… I'm dirty now. Care to clean me up, Professor Longbottom?"
Aw, I want Nev to call me "dear girl" now, too! XD This was so much fun to write; I'm so glad I put them together (which harks back to my fic "Given"). They are just awesome together! I think I might even have an idea of how to start a multi-chapter fic for them now, too…
Here's to more student/teacher stories! :D Leave a review if you hate Vicky, love Nev, or want more VicNev!!!
Thank you, Morghen, for your siriusly awesome Beta skills. :D