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Who: Neville Longbottom and Katie Bell
What: Minding the shop
Where: Slug & Jiggers Apothecary
When: Sunday, August 29, afternoon
Rating: PG
Status: Complete

It was only Neville's second week at Slug & Jiggers, but he was beginning to get a feel for the place. Mr. Slug, who had once cared for the greenhouse, had retired over a month ago, and Mr. Jiggers had barely kept the plants alive, so Neville had been given a free hand and was already beginning to see them perk up. He was expected to put in a couple shifts per week in the shop itself, and apart from that, so long as he kept the plants thriving, Mr. Jiggers was happy to pay him and let him use a corner of the greenhouse for his own plants. He hadn't yet gone out into Diagon Alley - mostly he apparated directly into the small courtyard between the shop's back door and the greenhouse - but now that he was feeling settled at his job, he was beginning to think about venturing out and seeing if he recognized any old faces.

He'd finished all of the work in the greenhouse for the day - squeezing and bottling the bubotuber pus, measuring the fluxweed growth, and cleaning up from the party the teenaged mandrakes had apparently thrown last night - and was settling in for his shift minding the store. It was a bit stuffy in the shop, so he threw all the windows open to let the afternoon breeze and sunshine in. He was humming tunelessly to Mim (what he liked to call the Mimbulus mimbletonia sitting on the counter) and checking through some inventory paperwork when the bell above the door chimed to announce the arrival of a customer.

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Katie hadn't set foot back in Diagon Alley since her dinner with George, too busy with Quidditch practice and with a thoroughly embarrassing pair of photo shoots for a calendar. (The first one hadn't been "enough", something that had annoyed Katie thoroughly, as she thought she'd certainly put "enough" of herself out there. Apparently sour expressions were desirable, since she'd sported one throughout the second shoot and they had been pronounced "much better".)

The need for new dress robes could no longer be ignored, and the state of her potions cupboard was dismal. She had the day off from practice, and the afternoon was warm, a lazy ease settled over the business in Diagon Alley. Katie bought herself an iced pumpkin juice to sip as she walked, though she knew her reasons-- no drinks allowed in the robe shop. She hated being fitted, hated standing on the little pedestal and looking at herself in the mirror for that long... she was stalling again.

But potions could come first. She slipped into Slug and Jiggers, a place she liked for its intimate size and sleepy atmosphere. Today, however, it was bright, the sunshine streaming in, and behind the counter was a familiar face.

"Neville?" Katie asked, tentative, and then she grinned. "Oi, Neville, I didn't-- you work here?"

Neville left off humming in the middle of a particularly unmelodious measure and fumbled the papers in his hands into some semblance of order. Subconsciously, he realized, he'd been imagining that the first person he recognized to walk in would be someone he really knew, Hermione, maybe, or Luna, and that there would be delighted chatter and no Potentially Awkward Questions about his whereabouts over the past couple years. He was, therefore, completely unprepared for Katie Bell, who he mostly remembered as being incredibly intimidatingly athletic and popular and pretty.

"Katie!" he said. "Hi, yes, I do. Work here. Now. Well. Just the last couple weeks, really. What brings you here?"

And, after a moment, mentally kicking himself very hard, he continued, "Potions, probably. It's usually potions, here."

"It is, yeah, Sprout and Snape would've cried to see the state of my little potions cupboard," said Katie amiably. Neville was one person that she knew could be very uncomfortable in social situations, or at least he had been back in school, and it tweaked her sympathy. She knew how it felt.

"It's so good to see you," she said, her voice warm. "Is that-- okay... tell me the name of that plant again, because I remember it. Mumbulus? Mimbulo... tonia. Did I mention I was rubbish at Herbology?"

Katie had brought up the one subject that was guaranteed make Neville feel at ease, and he brightened immediately.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," he said, stroking the plant gently. "I just call her Mim, though, it's a lot easier." Mim made small crooning noises.

"Snape would've cried to see me this close to any potions ingredients, period," he confided. "I think he would've barred me from ever even having a potions cupboard, if he could. However rubbish you were at Herbology, I was worse at Potions."

"I was rubbish at Potions too. I think I did well in Transfiguration just because McGonagall liked her house, but it was my favorite." Katie was studying the pale, lumpy plant with her honey-brown eyes, leaning on the counter. The crooning sounds were pleasant, but she thought she remembered that the plant was dangerous somehow.

"Is she friendly?" she asked, picking up Neville's own pronoun for the plant. "Or just friendly to you?"

"Well, you're awfully good at Quidditch, yeah? And that seems to have worked out for you alright. So who needs stupid old Potions anyway?"

"Just don't poke her," Neville warned. "It's not that she's not friendly, it's just her defense mechanism. You know, if I poke you, you might slap me - if I poke Mim, she sprays me with stinksap. Not dangerous, just gross."

Neville was suddenly very aware that he was talking about poking Katie Bell, within five minutes of seeing her for the first time in well over three years. He really wasn't quite sure whether to be pleased with himself or utterly horrified.

"Oi, yeah, I get you," said Katie to the plant, a friendly brow raised. "I don't like being tickled either. Hollered at Ginny Weasley for it the other day, you want the truth. If I had a defense mechanism like that, no one would tussle with me either."

She glanced up at Neville again, smiling. He seemed at ease enough, she thought, at least not ready to flee. It made her feel better. "I do all right at Quidditch, yeah, seems like. Never seen you at a game though-- too busy?"

"Oh, you know Ginny?" he asked. Neville generally thought that anybody one of his friends liked must be alright - hollering didn't necessarily imply friendship, but he didn't think Ginny would tickle an enemy, so he already felt a lot better. But then he realized- "Oh, Merlin, of course you do, the Harpies, I'm sorry. Right."

And then the question about coming to games. "I've been... away," he said carefully. It wasn't precisely a lie, and was what he'd settled on as his answer should the subject ever come up. Still, it was the first time he'd really had to use it, and it didn't roll easily off his tongue.

"That's lucky," said Katie, but her voice was a little more cautious. He had chosen his words carefully, and so she felt as though she ought to as well, though she wasn't certain why. She wanted to ask where he'd been, and yet that didn't seem appropriate either. Her cheeks colored slightly.

"I could use a holiday myself. Practices have been brutal, Ginny and I can't hardly do more than collapse after the day's over sometimes. --You were always ace at Herbology, though, someday you'll probably be running this place."

"Oh, mostly I just take care of the plants," Neville said hurriedly, hoping to leave the subject of his "holiday" far behind them. "I'm rubbish at all the- the boomslang skin and the slugs and such. And the sna- lizards and things. Forget it."

He'd almost said snake, and snakes usually reminded people of Nagini, and he didn't really like to talk about that if he didn't have to.

"Anyway, a greenhouse of my own, out in the country somewhere. That's what I want," he finished.

"Yeah? Seems like that'd get lonely, but I can understand the appeal there. Sometimes I think Quidditch might get more fun if people weren't watching it so much." Katie smiled, folding her arms as she leaned against the counter. She sipped at her iced pumpkin juice. Putting Neville at ease seemed important somehow. His eyes didn't look right, and she'd seen that look before, though she couldn't quite place where... until she thought of George. That look of fear wasn't so present in George's eyes, but the loss and pain... to pretend that they hadn't all been through things together was harder almost than to say something about it aloud. But if Neville needed it, Katie would help.

"You ought to come out with us sometime," she said impulsively. "Ginny and me, we go out a lot. And sometimes I see George, and I mean I see... really, I see a lot more of the Weasleys than anyone ought to."

"I like the quiet," Neville said. "I have a tiny cottage out in Wiltshire and sometimes I don't see people for days at a time and it's pretty much perfect." His voice gets noticeably warmer when he talks about his cottage - he really does love it there.

He found that he was warming to Katie easily. Though they'd had a few awkward moments, she hadn't pried at all, and getting invited out really wasn't something he'd expected at all.

It catches him off-guard enough that he finds himself saying, "The town I live outside of, Malmesbury - there's a carnival there, the rest of this week. If you've any time off, you and Ginny should come out and see it with me."

Neville had not been planning to attend the carnival. In fact, Neville had gone to the next town over for his groceries just the day before in order to avoid the carnival.

"Yeah?" Katie's smile was usually shy, a little slow, but this time it burst on the scene with delight. "I think we've got another rest day on Thursday, maybe we could go then... I haven't done anything like that in what feels like a lifetime. Ginny could use it too, she..."

Katie colored up then, her face scarlet to the hairline. "She's been needing a holiday," she finished up, a bit lamely.

"She could use a day off," Neville agreed absently - absently because internally he was taking Very Deep Breaths and pushing back the wave of doubts over how he'd manage at a carnival - but also noticing how happy Katie looked. He realized that he couldn't possibly back out at this point - he would just have to make sure to take his calming potions before they went, and at least Ginny would be there for support.

"I'll have to come into town and see to the plants here in the morning. Maybe a bit later in the day? I'll owl Ginny? Or I suppose you'll see her, won't you."

"I will, but go on and owl her, I know she'd love to hear from you. And I always sleep in on rest days, so starting later is all right by me." She was still smiling. It was good, she thought-- she was trying more, branching out a bit better, not spending all her time on the pitch or holed up in her little flat. Asking George to dinner, that had been an enormous step really-- everything else seemed easy after the barrier had been broken. Shagging Graham Montague might've helped, mate, said an acidic voice in the back of her mind, but she dismissed it.

"I shouldn't take up all your time though, mate, I'm sorry," she said, tucking a stray strand of her unruly blonde hair behind her ear. She rummaged in her back pocket for a crumpled list. "I've got to go be fitted for new dress robes and I'm stalling, may as well get it done with, yeah? So... let's see. Castor beans, peppermint, porcupine quills... oh! And it's a long shot, but have you lot got any dittany in?"

Neville moved around the shop, finding the various things Katie asked for on autopilot while he mentally composed an owl to Ginny. His current draft included several uses of the word 'help', in all capital letters. Possibly with some underlines. He was pleased that he'd potentially made a new friend, but wished he could take back the carnival offer - he suspected that that wasn't the wisest choice for his first major outing in years, but didn't see a good way to get out of it. And he couldn't help hoping that it might go better than he feared.

He paused when he was reaching for the dittany. "Dictamnus albus or Origanum dictamnus?" he asked.

"Um?" Katie's eyebrows came up, and she laughed a little, self-conscious. She scratched her forehead. "Whichever is the one that's good for wounds. It's nice to have handy for the more... hands-on matches. What's the difference?"

"Dictamnus albus, then," Neville says. "Origanum is really more useful for love potions and divination, things like that."

He pulls a small bottle off the shelf. "We do have it," he says, "but it's powdered, and Merlin only knows how long it's been here. I've got some growing at home - I could have some fresh for you on Thursday, if you can wait that long?"

Neville planted his garden with very little thought as to what he was going to do with any of the plants once they matured - he's found himself letting perfectly useful plants go to seed, or just growing and flowering and dying, so he's pleased to think he might actually be able to provide somebody with something they can use.

"Oh, that's amazing of you, that'd be brilliant-- thank you." Katie was smiling as she dug a few Galleons out of her pocket. Dittany was a bit rare and hard to grow, she remembered; Neville's offer was more generous than it seemed outright. "How much do I owe you? And let me pay you for the dittany too, please, I know it's precious..."

Neville tallied up the items Katie was buying from the shop and told her the amount. "You really don't need to pay me for the dittany, though," he added. "I've got a whole patch, you'll be doing me a favor, really."

He hadn't the first idea how to go about determining how much he should ask for - nor did he really have any interest in collecting payment. Growing plants and giving them to friends who needed them just didn't feel like work.

Katie hesitated, the Galleons still cupped in her hand, warm from her pocket. Not to pay Neville seemed presumptuous, and yet it was a gesture that was kind. If she insisted, it would be bad form. She handed him the money.

"Okay," she said, with a smile. "Okay, then. I'll... then I'll bring you something on Thursday too. D'you like sweets? I bake sometimes, I'll bring you something. Or soup, I do soup... okay, I'm talking a lot. Just... thank you, that's really lovely of you."

Neville was a horrible cook. Seriously horrible. His Gran often made him a big casserole on weekends that he would subsist on for much of the week, supplemented by things like toast and raw vegetables straight out of the garden and cereal. So it wouldn't have been a surprise to anyone who knew him well when his eyes widened at the mention of soup.

"Soup? You make... soup?"

"I do, I make dinner for Ginny all the time. I sort of like things like that, I did it a lot for my dad growing up, when I was home on the hols-- I like to cook." Katie shrugged a bit, although she was pleased with his reaction.

"I'll do you up some soup, then," she said with a little nod of finality. "All right. Look at us, trading goods, it's very antiquated. I like it."

Neville suddenly put two and two together and, unfortunately, came up with five. He was a little hurt that Ginny hadn't told him she was dating someone, but assumed that she would've gotten around to it soon - though it seemed like the relationship must've been pretty far along, if Katie was making dinner for Ginny on a regular basis.

"That would be lovely," he said. "Three o'clock, then? Ginny knows where it is. And-" He wasn't sure how to explain the next part without coming across like a paranoid freak, though he supposed that would be a relatively accurate description.

"Tell Ginny to apparate you two onto the road, alright? Not into the garden. I've got some pretty strong wards up and I'll have to key them to you."

"I'll-- do that," said Katie. She had been about to say I'll probably be doing the Apparating, since Ginny had a tendency to lose concentration and Katie didn't want to end up Splinched, but something in Neville's tone held her up.

"Look..." She wet her bottom lip. "I don't want to pry or... or be annoying, because it's not as if we're best mates, but Neville... if there's something you need, anything you need, I know... people will help. I'd help."

Neville was taken aback. He wasn't offended, he decided, he just hadn't been expecting what she just said in the least. His initial instinct was to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about, but he pushed that back ("You had a lot of people depending on you," Fiona had said at their last session, "and now you have to learn to depend on others. I bet more people care about you than you know.") and really considered Katie's offer.

"Thanks," he said finally. "I'll remember that. But I'm really doing alright."

Katie took the bag from the counter with a soft rustle. She wouldn't press him. They'd all been through a lot, and though the rumors she'd heard came to her in only the vaguest terms, she knew Neville had gotten the lion's share.

"So I'll see you on Thursday afternoon, then," she said with a smile. "I'm looking forward to it, I really am-- it'll be a good holiday for the lot of us, yeah? And thanks for all your help."

"Anytime at all!" he said brightly. "And Thursday will be great. Tell Ginny I say hi."

He tried to think of something to say that would let Katie know that he understood her and Ginny's relationship without outright betraying Ginny's confidence, and finally said, "She's really great. I'm glad you two are close."

"Yeah, she's my best mate, you know? We get along brilliantly, except when she's trying to push me to meet blokes at the pub." Cured her of that for a while, thought Katie wryly, and almost caught herself smiling.

"See you Thursday, then!" she said, gathering her things, giving him a friendly wave on the way out the door. A carnival would be good fun, better than lounging around her flat all day, that much was certain.

"Oh! Oh. Yeah. Thursday. Great!" Neville said to Katie's departing back. He felt a little idiotic about the assumption he'd made, but it seemed like she hadn't noticed, so he shrugged and let it go, actually feeling a lot better with the knowledge that Ginny hadn't neglected to tell him about a new relationship.

He went back to his inventory, but his mind was on the coming Thursday, which he found himself looking forward to with equal parts excitement and trepidation.

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