I won't lie, this one was really difficult for me to write. It felt like the prospect of writing this one made my writer's block want to come back but I've forced myself through it again.

That being said, I really don't like this one, and I'm kind of sorry to Neville (despite him being imaginary) for putting him through this ...

As per usual, this one is not edited 

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If anyone wondered what imposter syndrome looked like, they would only have to look at me because I had no idea what I was doing. This all had to be some mistake because there was absolutely no way that anyone with any rational sense had thought to make me responsible for underage wizards and witches, let alone as their Arithmancy Professor. How had anyone thought that I, a freshly turned 21 year old could teach anyone anything?

And yet, here I was, sitting at the Great Hall, at the teacher's table as the sorting progressed, silently experiencing my greatest bout of imposter's syndrome yet. I should have just saved myself the trouble of diving headfirst into the world of teacher, a world I knew nothing of and now I was already struggling to keep my head above the water. Already - and I'd yet to teach a single class.

Arithmancy I could do - I was really good at it, in my humble opinion. But teaching it was another matter altogether. If only I hadn't received that letter from Professor Vector personally requesting and entrusting the position to my lacking hands.

"Basilan," the call of my name was so quiet I almost missed it and yet, it surprised me enough that I physically started in my seat. Realising I'd been staring off into the distance as my brain a thousand miles a minute, I turned to my left, looking at the man seated beside me. He kept his voice quiet, easily undetected over the Sorting Hat's declarations. "I can practically see the steam coming out of your head."

For a minute, I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing. Instead, I looked at Longbottom with a million questions on my lips - we were the same age and yet, he had started teaching just a year before I had. At 20 of all ages. Merlin, Hogwarts was definitely trying to inject some youth into its teaching staff. Especially since Boot, who was seated just a few chairs down from us, had also officially joined the faculty last year alongside Longbottom.

"Basilan?" Longbottom prompted again; I'd gone off into my own world of overthinking again. No doubt, I very much looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Sorry," I eventually managed, having enough sense to copy his posture - facing forward as if I was paying any attention to the sorting. Maybe I should have been paying attention to all the excited first years but I wasn't. Instead, I was baulking at the sheer number of students facing the professor's desk; how was I going to teach anyone? "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here. Is it too late for me to run away?"

"No, you can run if you want to." Surprised at his answer, I glanced at him in time to see the small smile he offered me. "But if you do, just prepare yourself for when McGonagall comes to hunt you down."

The reminder of the Headmistress had me straightening in my seat a little. The very last thing I needed was to get back into her bad books. I wasn't sure she'd completely forgiven me for some of the hijinks that went on in the Hufflepuff common room; it was hardly my fault that the rug in the basement was so flammable. Really, the professors should have done something about that sooner - especially if the Hufflepuff common room really did catch on fire as often as the rumours suggested.

"You're doing it again - looking like a deer in headlights."

Meeting Longbottom's waiting gaze, I almost wondered if he could hear my thoughts. But I dismissed the stupid thought and instead confessed, "I have no clue how to be a teacher. What if I do a horrible job? Or somehow end up emotionally scarring the students?"

"During Arithmancy?" I didn't appreciate his obvious amusement as I struggled on the verge of a nervous breakdown. When I didn't crack a smile at his teasing, Longbottom frowned, just for a second. Under the table, he reached out to put his hand on top of mine briefly before withdrawing it, like he hadn't touched me at all. The contact steadied me enough to listen to his words. No doubt he was going to try to reassure me further, "You're bound to mess up."

"What?" my exclamation was decidedly not a whisper. Several of the professors turned their attention to me - the headmistress included - and I slumped slightly in my chair. Thankfully the sorting carried on without interruption. Only when everyone had stopped paying attention to me did I turn my attention back to my conversation partner.

Longbottom at least looked a bit sheepish as he hurried to amend, "We all do in the beginning. You'll make mistakes as you get settled into life as a professor and that's completely normal."

Still a little unconvinced and knowing that Longbottom was the sort of person to try and make others feel better about themselves, I asked hesitantly, "Really?"

"Really." Longbottom offered me a smile, one that was open and charming enough that I averted my eyes for a second. The last thing I needed was to be charmed by a colleague of mine. "Professor McGonagall even assured me of that last year, even she messed up in the beginning."

Somehow I doubted that. But, I kept that to myself. Instead, I let his words wash over me. Although he hadn't outright said it, I took comfort from the implication that he too had struggled in the beginning. Longbottom had struggled to settle into life as a Professor but now the students adored him - that much was obvious from the way so many of them had flocked to his side when he'd entered the hall. If he could do it, then so could I.

... but then again, he did that natural kindness that made everyone like him. He was an open book, even to his students, so no wonder they all liked the young Professor. Even now, as he sat beside me, I couldn't keep my eyes from his - eyes were the windows to the soul, everyone knew that and his were all too open and all too clear.

"Besides," he continued steadily, his smile growing warmer - as if that was even possible - and wider until he looked so reminiscent of the kindhearted Gryffindor from my own time as a student not so many years ago. Helga, that smile was just the same, and so was the flutter it caused in the very pit of my stomach. "Anything you need, I'll be there."

"You'll regret offering that," I warned.

"Never," he said so assuredly that I was temporarily robbed of my words. He grinned and then bumped his shoulder playfully against mine. "Chin up Basilan, you're not alone."

Nodding, and still bereft of words, I faced forward again as the final student - Bryan Zabka - was welcomed to Ravenclaw house. The closing remarks were said, not that I paid much attention to them - instead when the food appeared and the students started to eat, I made my own plate. Rather reluctantly, but knowing I needed to begin playing the part of a Professor - at least until it felt less foreign - I turned to the man sitting on my right and greeted him.

Professor Slughorn heartily returned my greeting and started speaking enthusiastically about how pleased he was to have former students becoming colleagues. I didn't tell him that I didn't think I would ever be able to see him - or the other Professor that had taught me - as my colleagues.

**********

The first few days of my new career hadn't gone too badly if I did say so myself. The younger students seemed to take to me and the older students respected me, even if I was not too many years older than them. With each successive lesson where nobody spontaneously combusted in my lessons, my confidence in myself grew. Perhaps there was hope for me as a professor, after all. But I couldn't let myself get ahead of myself. Not when I had a fifth-year class coming up. This would perhaps be my first difficult lesson, I just knew it.

Honourable Helga - just one look at the three students who walked through my classroom door with their arms linked through one another's as they talked without a care in the world, and I knew I was in for trouble. Shortly after the welcoming feast, Neville had escorted me to my chambers before accepting my invitation inside and once we were settled, he proceeded to give me a rundown on students who could potentially cause trouble for me. Of course, his words had formed a preconception of those students in my head, but I was grateful for the heads up, nonetheless.

His information had at least let me brace myself as I watched the trio from under my lashes, pretending to be reading a piece of parchment. The three fifth-year students took their seats near each other and I forced myself to look away as the classroom gradually filled up with the rest of the students.

Standing from my seat, I faced the blackboard and wrote my name onto the board, underlining it once. Behind me, the students continued to chatter away, some of them wondering aloud what sort of professor I would be, and others regaling each other about what they'd heard about me. The curiosity was natural, I supposed, but I remembered from my own time at this school how rumours travelled far and wide.

Finally steeling my nerves, I turned to face the students. Putting the chalk down, I rubbed my fingertips together to get rid of the remnants and maintained my silence until the students had all realised I was waiting. Then, I smiled, hoping my nerves didn't come across as obviously as I thought they did.

"Welcome to fifth-year Arithmancy," I started, looking over each of the students and trying to put their names to their faces in my head. Unfortunately, I could only remember three names, the names of the three students I was dreading the most - Bland, Ivan and Ages - I was certain they would be trouble. I was certain I would get a grasp on all of their names later. "It's not usual for the Professor to change halfway through studying for your O.W.L.s, but I want to assure you that Professor Vector left me a lot of guidance and support to make sure your studies aren't affected."

Under my watchful gaze, some of the students - mostly the Ravenclaw students - appeared to grow more relieved. Clearly, they were living up to their house characteristics. Not that I blamed them. If the professor for one of my O.W.L. level classes had switched out between my school years I would have worked myself into a right tizzy over it all. So I could hardly blame them if they were worried about it too.

"Right," I started again, rubbing my hands together before curling them around the back of the chair in front of me. "Before we go over the syllabus for the upcoming year and the preparations for your exams, I thought it'd be good to ask any questions you might have?"

At first, there was no response. Not that I expected there to be. Students were always like that, for some reason they were always so reluctant to ask any questions.

"Why don't I go first and address something you're probably all curious about?" I offered, "Your first essay will be assigned in the fourth week of the semester and you'll have two weeks to work on it."

It was enough to have the floodgates open. The students finally raised their hands to ask their own questions and I answered them, one by one. From the questions the students asked, I compiled a mental list of topics to go over once the time to revise arrived. If the students wanted it, I could run drop-in sessions for the students to ask any questions they had without having to worry about making a fool of themselves in front of their peers. Besides, Arithmancy wasn't a core subject, so I had plenty of free periods to do just that.

Having answered most of the questions, with only one left, I was reluctant to choose the remaining student left. Something told me Miss Bland's question would have nothing to do with Arithmancy. I could hardly exclude the girl, it would make it seem like I was ignoring her on purpose. And I was, but still.

I glanced towards the clock and really I should have been getting on with the lesson -

"Professor," Miss Bland started like she knew where my head was at.

The professional in me overrode the coward in me. "Yes, Miss Bland?"

"Actually Professor," the Slytherin started, straightening up in her seat. Her hands were clasped together, propped on the desk as she leaned forward slightly as her features suddenly came alight for the first time since the lesson had started. "One of the prefects came back from their rounds yesterday and they were saying that Professor Longbottom came out of your chambers last night?"

Her question, which wasn't really a question, fell into the silence of the room. It took a few seconds before the students started jeering and chattering about all sorts of rubbish. I took the moment to steady myself, drawing in a deep breath through my nose.

This was not what I'd expected the first rumours about me to be about. I wasn't foolish enough to believe that there would be no rumours but this - this was mortifying on another level. Not that I could let the students realise it. They were like sharks - the moment they smelt any weakness, they would pounce.

Steeling my spine, I released the death grip I had on my chair. Drawing my hands behind my back, I held them there and continued to silently watch the overexcited students, all traces of a smile wiped from my features. I knew exactly what I looked like right now - everyone had always said that without a smile on my face - and there was almost always a smile on my face thanks to the natural upwards turn of my lips - I looked like I was made of ice.

The effect was quick; the students fell quiet until there were no sounds. They all focused their eyes on me and satisfied that they were done, I surveyed the room before finally looking back at Miss Bland.

"I don't see how that has anything to do with your Arithmancy OWL, Miss Bland," I spoke plainly.

"Miss - "

"That is enough, now shall we get back to the syllabus for the year ahead?" Not waiting for an answer, I distributed the syllabus to the students with a wave of my wand. The students all accepted the parchment without another word - that suited me just fine.

They could believe I was a strict Professor, and that was alright. The sooner they learnt that I responded better when students focused on their studies, the better. If they could all focus on their academics, there would be no need for my natural smile to disappear.

Only once I started talking through the syllabus, did the steady thrum of anxiety that Bland's question had prompted, fade. Something told me the fifth years were going to be the death of me.

**********

The cold was seeping through my robes and settling into my robes. Wrapping the outer layer of my robes around me, I shuffled my weight from one foot to the other, trying to get warm. The longer I stayed here in the darkened abandoned corridor waiting, the colder it was getting. Helga, why couldn't this castle heat itself? Surely there had to be some kind of spell that could be cast over this entire castle to make sure it didn't get so cold each winter?

My teeth were mere moments away from chattering and I wrapped my arms around myself. Maybe I could just cast a warming charm? And I would have done it straight away if I hadn't read the research suggesting that prolonged repetitive use of the warming charm to regulate body heat could impact the body's ability to thermoregulate. Not that I had used the charm anywhere near enough to have that occur, but still -

A call of my name had my feet planting themselves firmly onto the floor, my shuffling stopping. My head turned in the direction of Neville's voice and I forced myself not to rejoice at the sight of him.

"Sorry for making you wait," he said, closing the space between us with quick steps. Coming to a stop in front of me, he ran a bashful hand through his hair and offered me a wide smile. Was there any research on the way a smile made your body temperature change? Because it had to be a known thing - why else would his smile have chased the cold away? "Were you waiting long?"

"No," I denied, gesturing for him to lead the way and he did.

Neville walked first, beginning to lead me through our rounds for the night. He cast a glance at me, and I swore his smile widened as we walked.

Selfconsciously, I tightened my robes around me again, "What?"

"You said you weren't waiting long, but clearly you're cold." I didn't deny his words, just shrugging and continuing with our rounds. "Why don't you just cast a warming charm?"

"I have my reasons." He took my words at face value as we turned onto the ground floor. We walked in silence for a few moments and I searched my brain for something to talk about. The silence, comfortable to me, might have been awkward for him, and I didn't want him to feel awkward around me. "So-"

When I trailed off, he glanced curiously at me again, "Everything alright, Basilan?"

His tone sounded amused to my ears, but I didn't point that out. Instead, I lost confidence and fell silent again. Longbottom picked up where I left off, filling the silence, "Rumour has it, you're quite a strict Professor, Basilan?"

"The fifth-years?"

"The fifth-years," he confirmed.

"I suppose there are worse rumours that can go around about a Professor," I said faintly, I would much rather the students talked about my teaching habits as opposed to any rumours to do with the man next to me.

"There's nothing wrong with being a strict professor."

Nodding at his assurance, I changed the topic, "McGonagall popped by to check in with me, to see how I'm getting on."

"Oh yeah?"

"She was saying that Gryffindor may need a new Head of House next year." As we continued to walk, I glanced curiously at him, but he kept his eyes forward as we walked. He didn't appear interested at all. "It seemed like she was eyeing you for the position."

"Oh no - I don't think so." Appearing a tad reluctant to speak any further, he just shrugged and insisted, "I don't think I'm Gryffindor enough for that."

"Not Gryffindor enough?" I asked incredulously. "If you ask me, you're Gryffindor enough. Besides, didn't you pulling the sword out from the hat prove that enough?"

"I don't know."

Silently, I let myself study him, just for a second, and not longer than that. For a moment he seemed like that overly conscious Gryffindor who believed he'd been sorted into the wrong house. Even if, right now, he was a grown man who had proved just how brave he was, time and time again.

Trying to inject some levity, I teased, "Unless your definition of Gryffindor is brash and stupid - then you definitely don't fit that."

"Brash and stupid." It worked; there was a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. "Nice to know what you think about us Gryffindors."

Before I could tease any more, there was a bang further down the corridor that had me recoiling back. In a move that reminded me of the troubles of our seventh year, Longbottom took my hand in his, using it to draw me behind him. Staring up at the back of his head, I could only think back to the countless times he'd shielded the younger students behind his back, in this very manner, to shield them from the wrath of the Carrows. That was a long time ago now but he, like so many of us, still carried those times with him.

"Come out." Longbottom's voice was authoritative as he searched the dark corridor ahead of us. He waited patiently for a response, to see students walk around the corner to face us. But they didn't. If anything, the only response he got was faint whispers. Remaining firm, he insisted, "Come out now to stop yourselves from losing more points."

We waited a few moments longer until a pair of embarrassed Slytherins, the boys' uniforms were far too mussed to be behaving in a very PG-13 manner, walked out into the corridor. I couldn't help but shake my head; honestly, if they were going to go about doing stuff like this, then they needed to learn to be more discreet. Helga knew that whilst I was at school, we knew to be a lot more secretive about it all.

"You know better than to be out after curfew," Longbottom started, shaking his head.

"Professor," the taller of the two unfamiliar students started, falling silent when the shorter nudged him, before pointing empathetically in our direction. Following his gesturing, I realised my hand was still held steadily by Longbottoms. Wordlessly, I drew it back to my side.

The short of the two students spoke up, his tone far more teasing than the other's had been, "Professor, you're going back to her rooms again?"

Narrowing my eyes and holding back a retort, I said nothing as Longbottom simply said, "5 points each, from Slytherin. Get back to your common room."

When it seemed like his housemate would say something, the taller of the two students, grabbed the other by his robe sleeves and pulled him into step beside him. The two students disappeared around a corner and I came out from behind Longbottom.

"Let's continue?" I prompted, avoiding Longbottom's eyes when he turned to silently address me.

We walked a few more paces before he started to speak again. He had more patience than I'd originally credited him with. "They said something about me in your chambers?"

"The students like to talk."

Although I tried to appear aloof and unaffected, I could tell he knew better. The furrow in his brow said enough. "Do you want me to stop checking in?"

"No, honestly," I insisted, reaching out to hold his arm and drawing closer to him. Offering him a smile, I reassured him, "Please, you've been a major help to me, Longbottom, you've helped me with my lesson plans and just kept me sane so far. So please, don't stop checking in on me."

He regarded me for a moment as I remained standing in front of him, my face upturned towards his. His eyes flickered between both of mine. "Alright then."

There was something about the way he said those two words that had me flushing and drawing away from him. Those two words continued with so much warmth and - affection that I didn't dare think about - that I was left with nothing to say.

Clearing his throat, he gestured for me to start walking. "Ladies first."

Starting us off, I watched from the corner of my eye as he fell into step beside me. Although, now he was walking closer to my side. Not that I pointed it out.

**********

One of the benefits of working as a professor was that the working week was very standard. It did not deviate much, with each week bringing forward the same sorts of questions, the same sorts of student encounters and I for one was grateful for the monotony. It was because it was all so predictable that I knew how much time I could devote to my academic research paper and having this time at least meant I was making some progress on the paper. Whilst working for a private company, it was difficult to find the time to work on it.

Even now, as my last teaching lesson for the day came to an end, I knew that I had two free periods to work on my research paper before I needed to complete my rounds again. But I bade my time, waiting for all of the fifth year students to leave before I started to pack my things so I could head to the library to get some textbooks I needed.

The students took their time as if they didn't have any lessons coming up, but they slowly made their way out of the room, saying goodbye to me as they went. I returned all of their greetings as I stacked my papers into a single pile. Picking up the pile of parchments, I tucked them safely into my desk drawer and closed it, before spelling it shut. The very last thing I needed was for the student's first essays to grow legs and disappear.

Straightening up again, I went to grab my bag when my eyes lingered on the student standing hesitantly in front of my desk. My eyes searched the clearly nervous Miss Agnes, as the Hufflepuff student clasped the straps of her school bag between two nervous fists.

"Professor," she started before falling silent and seeming lost for words.

"Don't you have a lesson to be going to?" I asked curiously, thinking of how I could alleviate her nerves.

"I have a free period." I waited, but still, she said nothing more.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" She nodded but said nothing.

Furrowing my brows a little, I wondered, "Did you have any queries about any of the content from today's lecture?"

"No, no, it's not that." Agnes drew in a deep breath but continued to nervously clutch her bag. She lifted her head to watch me before asking so quietly that I almost didn't pick it up, "Can we talk?"

"Of course." Recognising that this had nothing to do with Arithmancy and that this was likely something important - given the tremble to her voice, I silently summoned a chair.

The fifth-year student silently took her seat and watched as I crossed the room to the open door. I shut it, not needing anyone to hear what we discussed, not when this was the first student who reached out to me in this manner. Returning to my desk, I picked up my own chair and brought it around to the front of the desk so I sat a short distance away from the Hufflepuff who was now fidgeting with her nails.

"Miss Agnes," I started slowly, wanting to reach out to the student and put my hand on top of her fidgeting ones. But I didn't. Instead, I crossed my legs at the ankle and regarded her calmly, "I can only know what is upsetting you if you tell me what the issue is."

Miss Agnes drew out a sharp breath before she lifted her head to hold my eyes. Whatever she was thinking about, was clearly troubling her. She cleared her throat before she finally spoke.

"Professor Longbottom wants to ask you out."

Her statement was so unexpected that I almost started in surprise. But I didn't. Instead, I straightened my spine and clutched my hands together in my lap. I had been so worried for this student and this was what she wanted to talk to me about.

Shaking my head, I stood with a sigh. "I believe we're done here."

Saying nothing else, I picked up my chair again and returned it to its rightful spot. Tucking it away under the desk, I briefly regarded the still seated Hufflepuff whose mouth was parted in surprise, like she hadn't expected me to stand and walk away.

When I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, Miss Agnes stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she stood. "Professor, you have to understand - when we talk to Professor Longbottom about you, he reacts in a way that means he's interested. I just know it! And you two would be so cute together."

"What?" My sharp tone had her trailing off slightly. Miss Agnes winced a little but said nothing. "What did you just say? You talk to Professor Longbottom about this rubbish as well?"

Silence followed my question as Miss Agnes fidgeted with her school bag once more. I had to hand it to her, she certainly made it impossible to remain irritated at her, especially when she seemed so wholly contrite. Her contrition didn't stop her speaking, however.

"Yes," she admitted making me visibly cringe. Miss Agnes continued, speaking hurriedly as she tried to justify, "But I'm sure he likes you! You should see the way he responds - blushing and stuttering and asking about you."

"Miss Agnes-"

Likely knowing I was going to end this conversation very soon, she cut in, "You like him too, don't you?"

I didn't answer her. Instead, I continued to just watch her silently, hoping she would take the hint before I had to dismiss her on myself. She had no need to know the answer to her question or to know anything about my feelings for her Herbology professor. Holding my student's gaze, I wondered if I was in my right to take points from her.

Miss Agnes searched my eyes, before clasping her hands over her parted mouth. She took whatever conclusion - even if it was a correct one - from my silence. "I promise, I'll take this to the grave."

"Wait -"

"I need to go or else I'll be late to Herbology!"

Before I could say another word, to even try and protest, Miss Agnes rushed out of the room, shutting it behind her. I helplessly looked at the closed door and dropped my head, there was absolutely no way that she would keep her thoughts to herself. I simply didn't trust Miss Agnes enough for that. She hadn't even told me the truth about having a free period!

I needed to do something before this all spiralled out of control.

**********

I spent the entirety of the free period, watching the clock. I had tried to focus on my research, trying to focus on what I was doing so time went quicker and I could grab Longbottom for a quick word, after his class with the fifth-years before Miss Agnes could even say a thing to him.

There was just no way that I could pretend nothing had happened. I simply couldn't sit around and expect Miss Agnes to say nothing to Longbottom, especially when she had Herbology as her next class. Just the idea of her talking to my colleague - because Merlin, we were colleagues now, we worked together - was so mortifying that I didn't even want to contemplate it. But it was a very real prospect. So I steeled my nerves, I would run damage control even before she could say anything. If only to preserve my working relationship with Longbottom, I'd have to put aside just how horrified I was and bite the bullet.

When I continued to struggle to concentrate, I gave up even pretending to do it. Instead, I gathered all of my possessions which had been scattered across the desk during my farce of working hard and hurriedly forced them into my bag. There were mere minutes left until the end of the period.

Standing quickly, I left my classroom behind, being sure to lock the door and hurried quickly through the castle and onto the castle grounds. I had mere minutes to get to the greenhouses, and I had left it far too late. The bell signalling the end of the period rang and I cursed internally; it had been years since I had needed to get to the greenhouses and had forgotten just how long it took. But I kept up my pace, striding so quickly towards the greenhouse, that students who passed me on their way back to the castle were giving me curious looks. I paid them no mind, instead, I was too busy pushing through the burn of my calves.

Finally, finally reaching the greenhouse, I reached the doorway and had to step aside in the next instance when Miss Agnes walked past me, her arm linked through Miss Ivan's. The Hufflepuff offered me a smile and inclined her head in greeting as she passed me and I did not like the look of her smile. But I returned it with one of my own.

I forced myself to remain patient for a little longer, just until the students had passed me and kept my expression decidedly blank. I couldn't let myself look visibly annoyed because I hadn't set off quick enough to reach the greenhouse before Miss Agnes spoke to Longbottom. Because really, there was no way that she hadn't spoken to him, not when she had been one of the final students to leave the classroom.

Straightening my back, I let out a quick deep breath, before I entered the classroom, approaching Longbottom who was washing some dirt from his hands. I watched his back for a moment, wanting nothing more than to run away, but I couldn't. I couldn't ignore all of this and let things get awkward between us. Not when he had been such a big source of comfort for me and had continued to go out of his way to help me navigate around my new job.

Clearing my throat to get his attention, I stepped into the greenhouse and offered Longbottom a smile that felt just a tad forced as he turned to address me. He looked surprised to see me, his eyebrows rising slightly as he wiped his hands clean on a handtowel.

"You alright, Basilan?" he asked, and I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing a worse job at hiding my anxiety than I'd originally thought. When I just nodded, he said dubiously, "If you're sure? Anything I can help you with?"

I had spent so long focusing on the need to get here to address this matter with him, preferably before Miss Agnes did. I'd gone over the route to the greenhouse time and time again in my head, plotting each turn and yet now that I was here, I didn't know what to say. Foolishly, I hadn't thought about what I would say to Neville once I got here.

And it was because I hadn't planned for it, that I said the first things that popped into my head. Like an absolute idiot. "What did Miss Agnes say to you?"

He regarded me curiously, head tilted to one side a little as he put the handtowel down. "You know I can't tell you that."

Of course, he couldn't. If he was one to easily share the things his students told him, they'd likely find out and never see him as someone they could rely on. He could hardly break their trust unless it was for an important reason. And telling a colleague you knew about their crush on you was hardly an important reason -

Well, it could be an important reason. Unless he didn't want to tell me because he was embarrassed for me? Of course, he was embarrassed for me because what sort of grown woman developed crushes on colleagues when they were just being kind to them?

The need to rectify the situation just became more heightened the longer the silence progressed. I couldn't let this keep going on.

Lifting my chin a little and trying to sound confident, I declared, "You can just ignore what she said."

Neville took an aborted step towards me, watching me closely as he repeated, "I can just ignore what she said?"

Nodding, I waved my hands dismissively, trying to appear aloof. If I looked like it wasn't a big deal, then this would all blow over. If I didn't make an issue out of this, there would be no issue to make.

"Well yeah, you can just ignore what she said about me liking you." He opened his mouth as if to say something, but I barrelled on, "I didn't say anything of the sort and she got ahead of herself, reading into something. And well, she swore that she wouldn't say anything to you, which was clearly a lie. I knew I shouldn't have trusted her, but you can't exactly obliviate students and-"

This time he succeeded in cutting me off, speaking quickly and clearly shocked, "You like me?"

"Oh no." I took a small step back, mouth parting in horror as my stomach dropped. Merlin, I wanted the ground to open beneath me and swallow me whole. "She didn't tell you."

"No, we were talking about an essay." Neville reached out a hand towards me but I stepped out of the way, needing to get out of the greenhouse at that very moment. This - this was horrifying and so so much worse than if Miss Agnes had been the one to speak to him. Admitting it with my own mouth was the worst thing I could have done.

"I should, I should go," I mumbled, turning on my heels and rushing out of the greenhouse without bothering to give him another glance, even as he called my name from behind me. I had ruined everything.

**********

Mortification had settled so deep inside me that I refused to leave my chambers once I'd reached them. I had requested the house-elves send some dinner to my chambers and they had happily facilitated my seclusion, sending an extremely generous serving of dinner to my chambers. I knew that I would have to leave my chambers eventually and brace myself for my first inevitable encounter with Neville. But for now, I could hide away in the security of my chambers. And well, if tomorrow was the beginning of the weekend, where I had no lessons to teach and I could sequester myself away for two days, then well, that seemed like a good thing to me.

Even now, as I sat in my chambers at the desk, I was supposed to be focusing on the essays that desperately needed marking, and yet, I could only think about Neville and how I needed to apologise to him. Because I really did need to apologise, for developing these unwanted feelings and having to burden him with the knowledge of those feelings. Helga, I'd ruined our entire friendship.

Putting my quill aside, I rubbed a tired hand over my face with a sigh. Why could I not focus on anything apart from my embarrassment? Refusing to let myself spiral again into ruminating on the thing, again and again, I lifted my head and returned my attention to the essay. I forced myself to start reading where I had left off, only to be disturbed by a knock on the door.

My hand clenched around the quill; I knew exactly who it was. It could only be Neville, the same man who had visited my chambers most nights after dinner to help me or just to catch up. Releasing my quill so I didn't break it from the force of my grip, I pushed away from my desk.

Leaving the office, I entered the main bed space and just stared at the door for a long moment. He was waiting on the other side, and I knew he was. I couldn't let him wait, and yet, I didn't want to let him in either. I'd thought about my first encounter with him again, countless times, but I hadn't expected it to be so soon. I'd thought that I would at least have until tomorrow morning to prepare myself.

I fidgeted for just another moment before reminding myself that I was an adult, a responsible one and I could handle an embarrassing encounter. Besides, the sooner I got it over and done with, the sooner I could ask the house elves to send me enough chocolate for me to drown my sorrows in.

Finally crossing the space to the door, I opened it and sure enough, Neville stood on the other side with his hand raised in a closed fist as if halfway through knocking again. He offered me a small, hesitant smile as he lowered his hand back to his side.

"Hi," he said softly.

Swallowing thickly, and evading his eyes, I returned his greeting, "Hi."

"Can - can I come in?"

I paused for a moment, only a moment, before stepping aside. "Yeah, of course."

Neville walked into the room and I shut the door behind him. I watched as he turned to face me expectantly. Walking past him, I returned to my office and gestured lamely to my covered desk.

"I was just marking some essays," I said quietly, walking around my desk and collating the essays into a single pile. Tapping the pile against the surface to straighten them out, I let my eyes lift to Neville whose eyes were already on me. "I just - um - I won't lie, I'm struggling with marking these essays. There's so many of them and they're all so similar."

He said nothing for a moment and I couldn't bring myself to look at him again. Something told me he would still be watching me. I fiddled with the essays again, not knowing what to do. I was tempted to speak absolute rubbish into the silence just to fill it. But I didn't. Instead, I said nothing. Merlin was it awkward.

"Want a hand?" Neville offered at last. I finally looked at him then, watching as he approached the desk, his hand outstretched as if to take the essays from me. "I've had my fair share of essays to mark."

"That would be great."

I watched, a tad apprehensively, as Neville approached the desk, standing on the other side and accepting the parchment from me. He set them onto the surface, peering down at the essay right at the top of the pile and furrowed his brows as he focused on what was written. Briefly, I wondered if he had any knowledge of Arithmancy, to begin with, I couldn't remember if he'd even taken the subject whilst at school.

He lifted his head at last, before admitting quietly, eyes glued to my own, "I'll admit that I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"Thanks for offering, regardless," my words were hollow, and he nodded in response.

Slowly, as if not wanting to spook me, Neville pressed his palms to the desk and leaned toward me. I drew in a breath, surprised at his sudden proximity and still, I said nothing, even when he reached a hand up to cradle my cheek. His thumb rubbed softly across the swell of my cheek and my mouth parted, trying and failing to think of anything to say.

"You've got ink," he explained. My eyes settled on my ink-stained fingers.

"It must be from when I rubbed my face," I explained quietly, unable to meet his eyes which felt like they were boring into my own.

"Must be," he agreed faintly before tilting my head back so I was looking into his eyes. He leaned further across the desk, drawing me even closer to him. I knew exactly what he wanted and yet, I couldn't verbalise it. Did this mean - did he - "Can I?"

Knowing exactly what he meant, I nodded, eyes falling shut as he closed the distance between us. It was a gentle kiss that had me reaching a hand out to grasp the arm that was outstretched towards me. He drew away and I reached out greedily, taking his face in my hand and bringing him back to close the space between us.

Finally pulling away from him, I looked at him with all of my unasked questions in my eyes. I could only manage a, "What?"

Thankfully, he understood exactly what I meant. "You ran away before I could do that."

"Oh."

He smiled such an affectionate smile that I didn't know what to do, apart from flushing pleasantly. "Yeah, oh."

We didn't need to say anything else as we settled once more, back into our usual dynamic. We had only deviated from it for a short while, but it was more than enough for me to realise just how much I'd missed him. But now it was better, different, but better. Now, I could reach out to grab his hand as and when I wanted to.

The only thing was, we had to be careful because the students could never know. Or else I would never hear the end of it.

**********

The bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson. Some of the students stood with thankful grumbles, ready to head to lunch, and others appeared reluctant to leave, too busy looking over the feedback that they had received on their first essays of the year. I, however, was not looking forward to the idea of having to hang around for long to supervise the students. Not when there was a steaming plate of shepherd's pie with my name on it.

Still, I waited patiently for all the students to leave, knowing that if I was late, I could at least rely on Neville to save me some. Just the thought of him had me smiling in a giddy sort of way. These past few days almost seemed like a dream and if it was a dream, it was one I didn't want to wake up from.

"Professor?" Startled from my thoughts, I looked across my desk to Miss Agnes who stood in front of me. I tried my best not to appear on guard, as I surveyed the Hufflepuff who clutched her essay in front of her.

Forcing myself to relax, I gave her a warm smile. She was, after all, still my student. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I actually wanted to discuss the essay," she said as if to reassure me that this time she had wholesome intentions. "Is that okay?"

Dismissing the thought of my waiting lunch, I nodded, "Of course."

I gestured for her to take a seat at one of the nearby desks. Absentmindedly, I waved at the last of the students who left the classroom before joining Miss Agnes at the desk. Sitting down beside her, I watched as she put her essay down and angled it towards me.

"Was there something, in particular, you wanted help with?"

"I just thought I would do better," she stated with a sigh, not pleased with her EE, "Arithmancy is one of my best subjects, and it's something I want to do in the future."

"It is?" I asked in surprise, looking over my student with interest. "Not many people want to go into it."

"But I do," she said with such surety that I didn't doubt it.

"Well then, let's have a look at what you can improve on for next time."

We talked through the essay together, and I pointed out potential improvements that Agnes could make to better improve not just her Arithmancy essays and her essays in general. She took detailed notes as I spoke, asking whatever questions came to her mind and already showing a keen interest. I regarded her closely, seeing a different side to her beyond the downright gossip that I knew she was. She was a gossip, but she also was a diligent student, one who was driven to improve her results and knew what she wanted in life. For a moment, I let myself feel guilty for having judged her so harshly. Teenage girls were complex beings, they weren't something you could write off so quickly and I of all people should have known that, having been one not too long ago.

When we reached the end of the essay, I said, "I hope that helped."

Miss Agnes nodded, folding her parchment full of notes, and tucking it safely into her bag. She nodded and positively beamed at me in gratitude. "Thank you, it helped a lot."

I couldn't help but return her smile; this was why I wanted to teach - to help the students that were passionate about Arithmancy in the way Professor Vector had helped me. "Anytime you need any help, feel free to come and find me."

"Thank you, Professor."

Returning to my desk, I set about packing my things up as Miss Agnes did the same. I double-checked that my desk drawers were locked before preparing to leave. But I couldn't leave yet, not whilst Miss Agnes remained. She hovered by the closed door, like she still had more to say.

"Miss Agnes?" I prompted.

"I just wanted you to know - I saw you both," she started hurriedly, catching me by surprise. My hands stilled as I looked at her. I did my best to appear unaffected by her words. Still, she continued, "I saw you and Professor Longbottom. Well, I saw him coming out of your classroom yesterday, looking more ... ruffled than usual."

My mouth parted as I tried to come up with something to say. But I couldn't. What more could I possibly say?

Not that I needed to say anything. Miss Agnes offered me a wink as she promised, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"There's nothing to tell," I insisted.

"Professor."

"Miss Agnes, I don't know what you are talking about."

"I promise, I won't tell anyone," she said again and it probably wasn't a smart thing, but I trusted her not to tell anyone. After all, she hadn't told Neville. Merlin, it was such a stupid thought.

Unable to think of anything to say, I managed a soft, "Thank you."

My student nodded, reaching for the door handle. But she stopped on her way out, turning to address me from over her shoulder. "Just to let you know, I wasn't on my own when I saw you two - Ivan and Bland were with me."

"Wait -"

"I won't say anything, and Ivan couldn't care less. But Bland - she'll tell anyone who listens."

"Wait - "

"I can probably get you a few days' reprieve," she offered with another smile before she was hurriedly leaving my classroom.

I could only watch her disappear with a sinking feeling in my heart. There went the secrecy that Neville and I had been hoping for. Well, there was nothing else for it.

Hurriedly gathering all of my belongings, I rushed out of the classroom and took all the shortcuts I knew to reach the great hall in record time. I paused outside of the great hall, a short distance from the open doors. Straightening out my robes and making sure I looked the part of the composed Professor, I strode into the hall as if it was a normal lunch period and I wasn't currently so nervous that my heart was going to thunder out of my chest.

I fixed my eyes on the teacher's table, right at the top of the hall, and made my way there with measured steps. Reaching my space at the table, settled between Neville and Professor Boot, I thanked Neville when he drew my chair out from under the table. Sitting down, I offered him a smile when he tucked my chair in for me.

Helping myself to some shepherd's pie, I tried my best to act like nothing was going on. Still, I didn't dare to look at any of the student's tables; who knew which of them were already talking about us.

Under the table Neville put his hand on my knee, squeezing it reassuringly. "Everything okay, Basilan?"

Smiling pleasantly, I turned to look at him. "We are in so much trouble."

**********

2 YEARS LATER

You weren't supposed to have favourite students and yet, I was fairly certain that I had an unofficial favourite who made me enjoy teaching her but who also aggravated me to no end. I was fairly certain she knew she was my favourite which was why she continued to aggravate me so much by turning up at my door at every possible chance. Today was no exception.

"Really?" I asked, just as I prepared to return to my chambers at the end of my teaching day. Miss Agnes stood in the open doorway of my classroom with a cheeky smile on her face. Shaking my head, I ushered her into the classroom. "Just the look on your face tells me that we're not going to be talking about Arithmancy today, are we?"

"We're not," she agreed, walking easily into the classroom and taking her usual; she sat on top of the desk that was closest to mine.

Knowing better than to protest, I waved my wand at the classroom door and shut it. Leaning back in my chair, I studied the Hufflepuff who swung her legs a little as she waited. She couldn't seem to meet my eyes, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt as she waited. I frowned and watched her uncharacteristic bashfulness.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked softly.

"Can we talk about that in a bit?" she asked, clearly not yet ready to talk.

Nodding, I set about clearing up my desk and making sure that everything was prepared for tomorrow's first lesson, that way at least I wouldn't have to wake up quite so early. Occasionally, I snuck glances at Agnes who was now watching as I worked. Once some time had passed and I ran out of things to fidget with, I straightened out in my chair and propped my chin on top of my clasped hands. Considering Agnes with watchful eyes, I decided that enough was enough.

"So, what brought you to me today then?"

She didn't answer me right away. Instead, she continued to study her school skirt, as if it was the most fascinating thing. I didn't prompt her again, I didn't think I needed to. Instead, I waited for her to speak and when she did, it was in a tear-filled whisper, "How do you deal with a breakup?"

Oh. She finally looked up at me, clearly fighting back tears. Leaving my chair, I approached her and joined her on top of the desk. She sniffled a little and I offered her a handkerchief, my own heart aching for her. I remembered just how ecstatic she had been when she had first gotten into the relationship, she had rushed to my classroom and finally let herself squeal in excitement. She'd come to me for her first relationship, her first fight with her boyfriend, her first reconciliation with her boyfriend, her first time and now her first heartbreak.

Fighting down the urge to track down the Gryffindor student responsible for breaking her heart and hexing him, I silently decided to pick a bone with his head of house instead. I couldn't rail on the student so I would have a go at Neville instead, for letting members of his house be so ungentlemanly. Honestly, what was he teaching them? He was such a gentleman, he knew how to treat a woman you were in a relationship with, why couldn't he teach them the same?

"Well," I started with a sigh, wondering how to go about the delicate topic of recovering from having your heart broken for the first time. The honest truth was that there was no single way of going about it. Even whilst I had been at school, everyone in my dorm had gone about it differently. I had sunk myself into my bed and refused to leave it for an entire weekend, others had dove headfirst into their studies, and others had started a smear campaign against the ex. Each though had a single similarity. "Have you eaten more than your fair share of sweet things? And you can't even stomach the idea of having anymore?"

Agnes nodded her head, finally lifting her gaze from her uniform skirt. From this close, I could see the sheer pain in her eyes. Nothing hurt quite like aheartache.

Not wanting to probe, but knowing the importance of talking about things that were bothering you, I asked, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Apparently I'm frigid," she tried to smile as she spoke. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, "Apparently since I'm not comfortable with him sleeping with other people, I'm frigid and he broke up with me."

Breathing out sharply and reminding myself that I couldn't hex a student, I decided on the next best thing. "Right. Well then, I was going to be mature about this, but he's clearly not mature enough to warrant it."

"Professor?"

Summoning some parchment and a quill, I hurriedly scribbled down a spell. Folding the parchment in half, I handed it to Agnes who looked between me and the parchment with dubious eyes before accepting it. Opening it, she read the unfamiliar spell, mouthing it as she tried to get the pronunciation correct.

At last, she looked at me before admitting, "I don't get it."

"I can't hex a student, but you can. I trust you're smart enough not to get caught?"

She nodded, understanding and tucking the parchment safely away for later use. For the first time she smiled, and it was genuine. "Thank you, Professor."

"Normally I wouldn't condone this." She rolled her eyes as if she didn't believe me. "But I think this time it's warranted. And, you didn't hear this from me, but cast that and he'll end up growing a pig's nose and tail - but only for an hour."

"An hour." She frowned a little, likely disappointed.

Unable to stop my mischievous smile, I nudged her shoulder with mine. "An hour is long enough for people to take notice and short enough for the matron not to be able to do anything about it. But if you keep casting the spell, well ... that's up to you."

"Helga, you're brilliant."

"I try." Shrugging, I hopped off the desk before warning, "But don't get carried away with it."

"I promise."

She appeared more like herself now, as she was smiling again and jumped off the desk. Returning to my desk, I continued gathering my belonging as Agnes approached me. She leaned against it and I shook my head, already knowing what was coming.

"So," she drew the word out, "rumour has it, Professor Longbottom is going to pop the question soon."

____________________

... Like I said, I don't like this one, at all. But I had to get it out of the way

I kind of like the idea of doing a 'teacher series' - which is what I'm calling it, with one shots about the characters I have made into teachers. I've already written one about Harry, and this one is about Neville. So, I've got Terry and Blaise's one left to go. I've already got a tentative story idea for Blaise's one, whenever I get around to writing it, but I have no idea about Terry's one. But since I have no idea when that will come out, I've got plenty of time to come up with it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I'm just going to take this chance to remind everyone, that requests are currently closed. Requests will remain closed until I have written all of the previous ones up. And you will know when requests are open, because I will first of all, write in an author's note at the end of a chapter when the request notice will be up. This does not meant requests are open. When the request notice is up, requests will officially be open for 24 hours. The request notice will have all of the details and information you will need to make a request. I would appreciate if comments and private messages about making a request stopped, thanks.

The next one shot will be up on the 24th - it's a long wait, I know, but I haven't even started writing it. Here are the hints for the next one shot:

* took a bludger to the head 

* captain of the house quidditch team 

* extremely driven