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“Hermione,” Neville began, “Are we working on the Prefect rounds schedule tonight?”
“I finished it for the next few weeks at least,” she replied.
Neville paused, “Oh. Okay. Well, is there anything for us to do? The two of us? As Head Boy and Girl?” He coughed nervously and that was when it happened. Pink flowers came spurting from his lips.
Hermione looked up at him as Neville choked on one. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” she asked, jumping up and coming over to help.
“I don’t know,” Neville gasped, then coughed again, this time a yellow Daffodil came out. With growing horror, he realized the first flowers were Camellias.
“You’re coughing up flowers! Someone must have cursed you. Let’s go see Madam Pomfrey,” she suggested, grabbing his hand to pull him up.
Neville flushed at her touch. “I can take myself,” he suggested. He had a feeling he didn’t want Hermione around when he heard what this curse was about.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Neville. I’m happy to go with you. What if you have another fit of coughing up flowers? It’s very strange, don’t you think?”
“Very,” he agreed.
As much as he didn’t want her with him for this, Neville was relieved that someone was with him since he did, indeed, have several more coughing fits, always Daffodils and Pink Camellias. It felt like it took forever to reach the Hospital Wing.
*********
In Hermione’s opinion it took entirely too long for Madam Pomfrey to see the seriousness of Neville’s condition. Of course she had several other students who were there first and, of course, Neville being Neville he said it was fine to treat them first. But Hermione was worried about him. Coughing up flowers wasn’t as horrible as slugs, but they did seem to catch in his throat.
“Oh dear,” the old matron said when she looked Neville over and pulled up a diagnostic on him. “Well, the diagnosis is easy, but getting rid of it won’t be.”
“What is it?” Hermione demanded, knowing that Neville wouldn’t. For some reason, he seemed very reluctant about seeking help for this and Hermione just didn’t understand why.
“He’s been hit by a Hanahaki curse. You, Mr. Longbottom, seem to have been hit by someone who has both studied abroad and knows you quite well.”
“Why do you say that?” Neville asked. Blushing, he added, “The studying abroad part is a bit obvious, but…” he trailed off suddenly.
So Hermione picked up the train of thought. “But why would they have had to know him well?”
“The Hanahaki Curse only works if the person hit is suffering from Unrequited Love. If I’m not mistaken, that’s even what the Daffodils mean. I’m not sure about the other one, but I’m sure Mr. Longbottom knows.”
Neville’s cheeks were rosy when he said, “Pink Camellias, for longing.”
“Oh Neville!” Hermione cried.
“Unfortunately,” Madam Pomfrey said with a pitying look at Neville, “The curse cannot be lifted by magical means. It continues until the person they love returns their feelings, or until the curse kills them.”
“Kills them?” Hermione repeated, almost shrieking.
Neville had gone pale now. “How long before I die?” he asked.
Hermione whirled on him. “Don’t you dare give up like that! You’re sweet and kind and smart, not to mention fit. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”
For some reason, he laughed. “Maybe so, but she won’t ever see me that way, not really.”
Well that wouldn’t do. “Who is it?” she demanded.
Neville just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he lied. Then the coughing started again. Only the flowers had changed now. Yellow Tulips and Blue Violets.
Madam Pomfrey gave a delicate cough and said, “I’ll just leave you two to it.”
“No, you didn’t tell us why it would kill him!” Hermione argued.
“The curse makes it hard for the person to eat, so they’ll waste away without the other person’s love.”
No. This was not going to happen. “Neville, you just have to tell her how you feel. Or… we can arrange a romantic date. Or—”
“Hermione, it’s fine, really,” Neville insisted, coughing up more tulips and violets as he spoke.
“What do those mean?” she asked, pointing to the flowers. They seemed to change when he acknowledged them.
When he hesitated, she added, “I know you know. Between your extensive herbology knowledge and being raised a pureblood, there’s no way you don’t know what those flowers mean.”
In defeat, Neville said, “The yellow tulips are for hopeless love and the blue violets mean faithfulness. I don’t think I could ever love anyone else.”
“Is this new? How long—”
“Since I met… her when we were 11,” Neville admitted, blushing furiously.
“Oh wow, Neville,” Hermione said. That was far more intense than she had imagined. It also meant it was likely someone in their year. “Well then, let’s figure out what kind of date they might like. What are her interests?”
Neville started coughing, this time red roses. “Ouch,” he moaned. “The thorns. These mean ‘I love you.’”
“Yes, yes. Of course you love her. Now, let’s put together this date. Do you think she would be more of a Madam Puddifoot sort,” she asked, wrinkling her nose, “or a picnic by the lake kind of girl?”
“Picnic by the lake, apparently,” Neville said with a sad sigh. “Unless there was a library available.”
“Neville! You can’t have a date in a library. Think of the books! But it would be lovely to visit one before the meal. Oh! I should research this curse and see if we’re missing anything.” Abruptly, she turned toward the library, with Neville following along in her wake.
As she walked, and he coughed out something purple — lavender, she thought — Hermione contemplated who it could be. One of the Patil twins? But she had never seen Neville around either of them. Susan Bones? No, they had been in the DA together but he had never looked at her. Maybe sweet Hannah? She would be perfect for Neville.
Hermione felt an unexpected pang at that decision, a pang she knew she should ignore. It was just that, being with him so often for their Head Boy and Girl duties had allowed her to get to know him more as an adult. And Neville was impressive.
Ever since he had gotten a new wand a few years ago, he had left behind his reputation as being barely more than a squib. The wand chooses the wizard, and his father’s wand had never chosen him. So his magical prowess was impressive, as he had shown over and over again last year. Not that Hermione had been here to see it, but she had heard stories about it.
Kind, good Neville. And brave. Merlin, when she and Ron had lost hope during the Battle of Hogwarts, it had been Neville who stood up directly to Voldemort and never gave up hope. He was admirable. And Merlin, he was easy on the eyes these days — though not the knickers. The more time Hermione spent around him, the more she found the man turned her on with his herbology knowledge and gentle ways.
She felt that twinge of jealousy again. Whoever this girl was — Hannah or otherwise, she was a very lucky girl. Shaking those thoughts away, she asked Neville, “That’s lavender, isn’t it? What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “Lavender’s rather more pleasant to cough up than some of them. I think I’ll keep it for a bit.”
“Oh, Neville,” Hermione said, giving him a look that she knew was filled with pity.
They spent the rest of the evening studying this curse, Hermione becoming more and more frustrated for him that they couldn’t just do something to be rid of it.
***********
Neville miserably coughed up some more lavender at breakfast the next morning rather than eating. To his surprise, as he helplessly watched the others, stomach grumbling, it was Ginny who cheerfully said, “Oh! Lavender means devotion, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” he acknowledged, the flowers he was coughing up abruptly changing to Daffodils again.
“Well that’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?” Ginny laughed.
It was then that Hermione got an absolutely horrified look on her face. “Bill went to Japan over the summer, didn’t he?” she asked.
Ginny, unconcerned, smiled and said, “Yep,” popping the ‘P’.
“Ginevra Weasley,” Hermione hissed. “Tell me you did not somehow learn the Hanahaki Curse and hit Neville with it?”
Beaming, Ginny said, “Maybe I read about it in one of Bill’s books, so maybe I did. Would it be so terrible for his unrequited love to finally be fulfilled?”
“Ginny!” Hermione gasped. “Do you know what you’ve done?”
“Helped him finally have the bollocks to tell the woman of his dreams how he feels?” she said with a smile.
“If she doesn’t feel that way about him, Ginny, Neville is going to die.”
The grin finally slipped from her face. “You’re joking,” she said.
“No, Ginny, I’m not,” Hermione said through gritted teeth.
“She isn’t,” Neville agreed, between coughing up more yellow flowers. “But I appreciate you trying to help with the unrequited love.” He gestured to the daffodils.
Now his cough brought up pink cyclamen instead.
“What does that one mean?” Hermione demanded, looking more and more upset.
“Resignation,” he answered. He knew his voice was resigned, too, but he couldn’t help it. In a few days, he would starve to death. He certainly wasn’t going to tell Hermione just so she would feel guilty and try to fall in love with him to save him from his fate.
Ginny looked furious. “You numpty! Just tell her!”
“Yes, Neville. Just tell the girl how you feel. Please,” Hermione begged.
He coughed up something much more herbal than the others had been. “Borage?” he asked, questioning himself on the identity, but he was certain that’s what it was.
“For courage,” Ginny said with an expectant look at him. “See, the curse thinks we’re on the right track.”
“I thought it was trying to kill me,” Neville said. It certainly felt like it was trying to. His throat and mouth were sore from all the flowers and he was so tired of coughing.
Rolling her eyes, Ginny turned him toward Hermione. Neville coughed up white violets and astilbe together.
“What do these mean?” Hermione asked. “And why did you turn him like that, Ginny?”
Quietly, Neville said, “They mean ‘let’s take a chance’ and ‘I’ll be waiting for you.’ B-because it’s you, Hermione. It’s always been you.” He closed his eyes when she took a quick breath in.
So he didn’t see it when she pushed herself forward. He certainly felt it, though, when her lips pressed to his. Neville couldn’t help but pull her fully into his arms, deepening the kiss. When he pulled away, there were red roses surrounding them, but none had come from him.
He coughed once, experimentally, but no flowers came out. “I don’t understand. I thought you had to be in love with me?”
“Oh Neville!” Hermione cried, her tone fond yet exasperated. “I’ve loved you since we met, just… I never thought about it as romantic. But everything I have said is true. Any girl would be lucky to have you, but now that I know the lucky girl is me? I feel luckier than anyone!”
“Only you, Hermione, could be so busy in your head that you didn’t notice you were in love with someone,” Ginny laughed. “But it must have been good enough for the curse! And now the two of you are finally together.”
“You’re still going to pay for what you did to him—” Hermione started, but Neville was laughing, and distracted her with another kiss.
“I don’t mind,” he said some time later. “Not when this — us — is the result.”