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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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"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?"

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