"Hermione, what are you doing?"

Neville grimaced slightly when he heard the squeak in his voice, but he didn't look down or shuffle his feet. This wasn't particularly brave, however, because he doubted there was anyone who could have looked away no matter how embarrassed. He pinched his arm and cursed under his breath when he determined that he was, indeed, awake.

"Language," Hermione scolded primly as she walked further into his greenhouse. She was acting normally, like a friend stopping by for a visit, and he wondered if he'd somehow inhaled the hallucinogenic fumes from a moxy weed, since he wasn't dreaming. When she focused her attention on him, he blushed despite knowing that she couldn't possibly have any idea what thoughts were in his mind right then. "You missed our dinner date."

"We had a dinner date?" he asked before he could stop himself. His eyes widened when he realized the date. "I didn't remember today was Tuesday. I started working and, well, there's no excuse."

"No, there's not," she agreed. "I reminded you yesterday, Neville, and even added it to your calendar myself. It's finally over, as of eleven o'clock this morning, and I just wanted to celebrate with you."

"I know. I'm sorry," he murmured, reaching up to run his hand through his hair, not caring about the dirt. His eyes drifted down and he bit his lip. "Is that, um, I mean, what are you, uh, wearing?"

She walked closer, the movement causing her breasts to shift beneath the flower petals covering them, and he looked up in time to see her smile in a way that could only be described as wicked. "Well, since you always bring me flowers, I thought it was time that I bring you some," she said matter-of-factly. "Since I intended to seduce you, it seemed logical to just wear the flowers."

"Seduce me?" The squeak was back, though he was rather proud that he'd managed to speak at all after her announcement.

"Is it working?" she asked. If he'd not been watching her face instead of her breasts, he might have missed the flash of nervousness and look of insecurity.

He curled his fingers into his palm and wished he'd been able to hex that bastard who hurt her and made her feel so undesirable. When she'd left the loser, Neville had been there to help her, holding her while she cried and drying her eyes after. They'd always been friends, but her separation had definitely brought them closer together. He wasn't stupid, so he knew that it was partly because Harry and Ron were busy with their own lives whereas he was single and available to be the shoulder for her. Still, he'd never expected her to be standing in front of him wearing rose petals and nothing else.

"This was a bad idea," she muttered, moving her arms around her chest in a way that dislodged a few of the petals. "I thought---well, that doesn't matter since it's obvious that I was wrong. I have to say, this is nearly as humiliating as walking in on my husband shagging his secretary in our bed. I'll just go and hope you---"

Neville stepped forward and put his fingers against her lips. "Hermione, shut up," he told her, having to smile when she narrowed her eyes at him. "I think that there's no better way to celebrate divorcing that git than seducing me. I'm very seducible where you're concerned, after all."

He moved his fingers and leaned down to kiss her while he reached up to touch her breasts, mostly to make sure she was real. When he felt the warm, rose-covered flesh in his hand, he squeezed, which made her squeak against his mouth. He pulled back and grinned. "You can bring me flowers anytime," he told her before he kissed her again.

End