Matchmade

Spoilers- Small ones for Deathly Hallows and S7 of Buffy.
Disclaimer- Joss and JKR own Buffy and Harry Potter. I use them to escape my work.
Note- Neville needed a girlfriend.
xxx

“Goodbye, Professor Longbottom!”

Neville looked up from a young Devil’s Snare and waved absently at a group of giggling girls.

One of the girls lagged behind. “Are you coming to dinner tonight, Professor?”

“Not tonight, Miss Brown. The Mandrakes are starting to throw parties. Two windows in Greenhouse Four have already been broken.

“Oh.” The girl frowned. “Goodnight then, Sir.”

It was the same thing every year. Around this time the newspapers would start their fortnight long celebration of the anniversary of Voldemort’s death. Somehow, for some reason, someone had a camera on the battlefield. Colin most likely.

The camera had been captured a few days after the battle ended. It had been charmed to fly around the school, taking a photograph every few seconds. These photographs would grace the cover of The Daily Prophet year after year. A photograph had captured the moment Neville killed Voldemort’s pet snake. It was a popular one with the newspapers.

They just wouldn’t let it die. They wouldn’t let him forget. Or anyone else for that matter, but then, wasn’t that the point? Beware; remember; don’t let this happen again.

So every year the photos were published and every year the students were remind of his role in the war.

It was worse this year; the Headmistress had even offered to give him a few days away from Hogwarts. Personally, he thought the giggling girls and awe struck boys were annoying the other Professors. He did have to admit he was sick of the older girls batting their eye lashes at him.

“Excuse me?”

Neville sighed. “Yes, miss…”

Neville trailed off as he looked up. She was not a student. This was a woman. A woman with long brown hair and even longer legs clad in tight fitting trousers.

She smiled tentatively at him. “Hello, my name’s Dawn Summers.”

“Neville Longbottom.” Neville held out a gloved hand, before realizing and yanking the soiled glove off.

Dawn shook his hand, her smile becoming more certain. “I seem to have gotten myself lost. I was looking for Professor Hagrid. The boy with the glasses and the sticky-up hair said I could find him here.”

Neville shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ve ran into our resident prankster. Mr Potter models himself after his uncle, George Weasley.”

“Oh, he’s the one with the…” Dawn gestured towards her ear.

Neville nodded grimly. Here it came: the gushing and the ‘you know Harry Potter’ sequels. Or even a ‘eww, gross!’

“At least he can still hear,” Dawn shrugged. “A friend of mine lost an eye- it’s a long story, lets just say it involved an evil preacher- and he has to take a driving test every year now. He has no depth perception.”

“Oh.” Neville scratched his head. Okay, this was new.

“Hey,” Dawn said abruptly. “Do you want to go out for dinner one night?”

“Sure.” New didn’t mean bad.

Dawn smiled widely. “Great! I guess I’d better be going then.”

Neville blinked rapidly as Dawn backed out of the greenhouse. The shock wearing off, Neville started to laugh.

He stopped abruptly when Dawn poked her head back in.

“Um, where was Professor Hagrid?”

xxx

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