Professor Neville Longbottom sat up straight at the High Table of Hogwart's Great Hall. Only a few of the teachers he'd known fifteen years ago when he'd been a student were left were still teaching. He'd started coming back as a guest lecturer for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and when Professor Sprout retired, she'd recommended him as her successor. Professor McGonagall, to his surprise, had no hesitation in offering him the job. That was ten years ago, the first time he'd sat at the High Table.

Hagrid, seemingly never aging, sat down net to him having guided the new batch of first years over the lake. McGonagall sat impassive in the Headmistress's chair as Professor Flitwick, her deputy, arranged the first years at the back of the hall.

This year Neville would be paying more attention to the sorting ceremony than ever, as this was the first year that he would be head of Gryffindor House. Again, he was astounded that McGonagall had chosen him, but it was dawning on him that he was actually very good at his job, and that McGonagall was actually very proud of the man he'd become.

As the new students were marched, en mass, we could hear the whispers as they looked at him. He'd joked before that they didn't need the hat, as you could sort based on what the kids called him. To the Gryffindors he was the Lion of Gryffindor, the Bravest Man of Gryffindor Tower, the man who proved that it is courage of ones convictions that overcomes evil. To the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, he was the leader of the resistance, the Great Protector, who battled against evil within the walls of the castle and who stood against injustice, guardian of the weak. To the Slytherin, he was the Serpent Slayer, the boy who got lucky and has been living off his success for years.

He was famous throughout the wizarding world, perhaps more famous than even the great Harry Potter. He was the Boy who Stayed. At first he was annoyed with Harry, Ron and Hermione for spreading the stories, trying to defect their fame, but he eventually accepted that they true. The last thing his Grandmother had said to him, before she passed on, was that there could be no prouder grandmother.

He liked Hogwarts, where his fame meant little; he could ignore it, although there was always a steady supply of eighteen year old witches who'd listen to his stories in Hogsmead when he'd venture down every other weekend.

Neville's eyes passed over the students as they one by one had the Sorting Hat placed on their head. He applauded them all, more eagerly when a Gryffindor was chosen.

As soon as her saw her face, he felt his heart pang. This girl could only be the child of Luna Lovegood, but he didn't know that Luna had a daughter. He knew about the twins, but they were only five. Luna hadn't spoken to him for years, but surely one of his friends would have said something.

"Selina Lovegood"

The slight girl with long silvery blond hair and large blue eyes skipped forward, he caught her eye and she smiled at him, a smile just like her mother's. Neville turned away. He didn't want to be reminded of Luna

"You should talk to her..." Ginny said. It could be Ginny, Hermione, Harry, or even occasionally Ron (if Hermione had told him to), but the conversation would always be the same. At some point, almost like a ritual, the conversation would turn to Luna.

Neville and Luna had been a couple practically since the Battle of Hogwarts, so in love that the both thought it would last for ever. He was devoted to her, and she to him.

"She broke my heart." Neville would say.

"And you broke hers."

"She betrayed me."

"She made a mistake, a very bad mistake. She experimented with somebody else, she made one mistake and she regretted it at once, hence she told you and begged your forgiveness."

"She cheated on me. She was the only one."

"You could have worked through it."

"No we couldn't. How could I trust her?"

"Because you loved her."

"I still love her."

"Then talk to her."

"I won't, I can't see her again."

"Then move on, you can't just hide away at Hogwarts for the rest of your life."

"Move on, like she did. She's married. She's moved on."

"Neville. She cried for months. Six months she cried every day for you, every day, Neville. One day she accepted you weren't going to come back and she moved on and met somebody. She'd want you to do the same.

"I don't care what she wants."

"Gryffindor!" The hat announced.

Neville was shocked, he assumed she'd be a Ravenclaw like her mother. He almost didn't clap. He didn't want this reminder in his Herbology classes, let alone in his house. Then he got a hold of himself and was disgusted by though thoughts. Hogwarts welcomes everybody, it'd be an insult to Dumbledore, and to McGonagall if he didn't do his best for every student in his care.

After the feast, when all students were back in the dorms, after Neville had welcomed the new students, he retired to his study.

He still hadn't settled his rooms next to Gryffindor Tower. He liked his old rooms by the greenhouses, he liked the smell of earth, he liked that he was away from the rest of the populous. While his new rooms where larger and more finely decorated, they didn't feel as comfortable. They weren't quite home.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry had just brought back drinks from the bar of the Three Broomsticks. It was the first weekend of term and Harry had come along for his traditional welcome session of Dumbledore's Army (long since renamed by the students Longbottom's Army, although they were carefully not to call it that when he was in earshot) and the two old friends had headed out for an evening drink or five.

Harry took a long sip from his Butterbeer. He'd brought an American style craft Butterbeer while he liked the taste, knew that this would be a long night. Just one of these strong beers would put him over the limit for apporating, and after an unfortunate episode where he materialised in a fountain, he knew not to try it again.

"Tell you what?"

"That Luna had a daughter."

"She asked us not to."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did she ask you?"

"How am I mean to know? Maybe she wanted to tell you herself, maybe she thought it was none of your business..."

"None of my..."

"I don't know. Maybe ... Look, it was a hard time for her. She was alone, heart broken, confused and found herself pregnant. You know how the wizarding community look down on single mothers. If you want to know, you could just..."

Neville had planned in his head how to deal with her. She was just another student. He'd treat her no differently from any other student. He wouldn't go out of his way to be overly friendly, and won't be harsh. He pretended her surname was Bojangles rather than Lovegood so her name wouldn't jar him every time he heard it. Still though, he could see her mother's face.

His plan may have worked better if she wasn't excelling at Herbology. First year Herbology, he was the first to admit, was pretty dull. They needed to learn the skills and the principles that would be the foundation to their studies. All the fun plants came from after Easter. Yet Selina was enthused, always doing more work, maybe not knowing all the answers, but always asking the right questions.

She sat patiently at his desk, her large eyes scanning the walls, and fixing on the large gleaming sword that was mounted high to her left.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor," Neville tried to sound nonplussed, while at the same time trying to sound impressive, "it presents itself to a true Gryffindor in need. I was the last person it has presented itself to."

Despite having rehearsed what he was going to say a dozen or so times, he was still reading over his notes.

"How are you liking it here at Hogwarts?"

"I love it. I can see why Mother raved about it so much. She's told me so many stories."

"Well, that's..."

"You were in most of them. But sometimes you weren't. Sometimes you're in it, and Mother pauses every time she thinks about you. Sometimes you're not in it, but there is a space for you in the story, like you're missing from it. When Mother talks about you, she always says you're the bravest person she's ever met. You're the reason I wanted to be in Gryffindor."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted to learn from the Lion of Gryffindor."

"You shouldn't believe all the stories."

"All stories have some basis in fact, Sir."

"Very well. As you know, all this meeting is about is checking your progress. I've spoken to your teachers. Everybody says you're doing well, very well in fact. Well, you're not doing well in the Broomstick lessons and you seem to be having a little trouble in History of Magic. Professor Binns is concerned that your alterative interpretations of history aren't going to get you top grades. Something I've noticed, and others have commented in, is that you have lots of little rhymes."

"I need to make up ways of remembering things, my memory isn't very good. Muggles say its something to do with something called dyslexia."

"Ahh yes, you went to a Muggle primary school, how was that?"

"I liked it. Muggles are funny. Hermione, I mean Madame Granger suggested to Mother that I go. I think she thinks that magical children need to experience the Muggle world."

"And do you?"

"I do, it's fascinating the contraptions they have to get around not having magic. And nobody seems to mind not having magic, although they write a lot of stories about magic."

"Would you like to be a writer?"

"Maybe, but I'd prefer to work with plants."

"Herbology?"

"Yes, do you think I'm good at it, Sir?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes. I think you've certainly got potential do be one of my best students."

His first one-on-one encounter with Selina went better than he expected. She was a delightful child. Inquisitive, like her Mother, but much more down-to-earth, like it was Luna but rooted in the mundane. Over the course of the year, he watched her progress, taking pride in her performance, and she was soon his star pupil. He was almost as pleased as she was when she passed all her exams, even History of Magic, with flying colours.

"She's almost as good as you were!" Neville laughed.

Hermione blushed. "Well, you should tell Luna."

"Luna didn't come to parent's evening, she could have found out then. Anyway, I'm sure you'll tell her whenever you..."

"So Neville, what's new with you? Any tasty witches on the..." Ron interrupted Neville, trying to get the conversation onto more comfortable territory.

"Ronald Weasley, this is not the kind of conversation suitable for the dinner table, especially not with his students," Hermione nodded towards their children, "sitting here."

The second year Herbology course was one that Neville had designed from scratch. Hermione had managed to sneak a Mandrake Rights Act through the ministry, which redefined Mandrakes as sentient magical creatures, rather than plants, and so they were now off his course. Instead he'd managed to get a new greenhouse built by the Black Lake where he would teach the course, in conjunction with a Merman. The first time he'd taught the course, it was almost a disaster. Having learnt Merish from a Merman, he'd forgotten that to the non-speaker, the voice of a Mermaid can be temptation itself, and the Mermaid chief gardener was moments away from luring seven boys to below the water. From then on, he'd worked with one of her male assistants.

To everybody's surprise, when Selina asked questions in this class, she asked in Merish. It was stuttering, and to the learned ear, it had a strong maritime accent, but it was Merish. The first child he'd ever heard able to speak it.

From time to time, Neville would drop in on a Dumbledore's Army meeting. Although, by tradition, the meetings were held away from Hogwart's staff, and that the room should stop teachers intruding, Neville wasn't bound by those rules. Harry had given Neville the Marauder's Map as a present when he first took the job at Hogwarts, so Neville, would know when a meeting was taking place. And thanks to his exploits defending the castle and the school, the Room of Requirements always answered Neville's requests.

This time he was persuaded into demonstrating a duel with Teddy Lupin. To those who'd known Neville at school, the adult Neville's skill with a wand was breathtaking. It had taken him a long time to realise that it wasn't skill that he lacked, it was confidence. Years of constant practise had made him a match for most adult wizards. Even Harry and Ginny had difficulty defeating him.

Against Teddy, he relied on his speed, knowing he could deflect any incoming curses and jinxes. His attacks were telegraphed, slower than usual, slow enough to give Teddy, a chance to show off and put on a show. Where Teddy held the advantage was fitness, and Neville knew that this show could only last a few minutes before the tables turned. As soon as he felt his chest getting tight, he new he had to end it, a well placed shield charm threw Teddy off balanced, and Neville wordlessly flicked the student's wand away to much applause.

He sat back to watch the students practice, and noticed that Selina was there, facing off against the Ravenclaw prefect. Showing no hesitation in attempting to disarm her opponent, she failed and was knocked back, but twisting, she was up on her feet in a flash, firing off spells. There was no anger, it was all under control, but there was the gritty determination that marked her out as a Gryffindor.

At the end of the practise, Neville sat on the floor with the students around him and chatted about the old days, this time about the raid on the Ministry of Magic. In these days of safety, when dark wizards are rarely heard of, Neville thought it was important to remind the students why these skills were important, and what the Army had achieved. Selina sat at his feet, her large eyes staring enchanted has he told his story.

Years seemed to pass quickly for Neville as one batch of students melded into another. It was winter now, and he was catching up with the Gryffindor third years. The last student on his list was the fourteen year old Selina. He looked through his notes, keeping up the pretence that he hadn't rehearsed this bit time and again. After all, she has his favourite student. Nobody had a bad word to say about her. Divination loved her. Hagrid complemented how she had a calmness and respect with the animals, much like her mother.

Much like her mother. Probably too much like her mother. Too much for Neville. It was dawning on him that he might be falling in love with his student.

'I'm a teacher.' Neville reminded himself. 'She is in my charge. Besides, she'd not be interested in an old man.'

His thoughts drifted uncontrollably to her kissing him as, in real life, she walked in and took a seat.

Since nobody had claimed his old Herbology study, Neville had taken to using it for reviews. With vines creeping up the walls and ample light provided by the glass roof, it was a much friendlier setting. Also, since all his books and papers had been moved up to the castle, it was much less cluttered than his official office.

The interview was going smoothly until Selina started twitching, then fidgeting, then panicking.

"Wasp, there's a wasp in my robes."

"Keep calm Selina, keep..."

"I'm allergic to wasps. Please, get rid of it, get..."

"And do what?"

"I don't know! Vanish my robes, let it escape."

"I'm not going to..."

"Please, it's going to sting me."

Producing his wand, Neville gave a quick flick of the wrist, vanishing the robes, and turned straight away to conjure them on the chair in the corner. He turned back, hoping to get a small glimpse of the blonde beauty in her underwear. But she wasn't. She wasn't wearing anything. She was standing there, bold as brass, completely naked. She smiled at her professor.

Neville Longbottom, the Lion of Gryffindor, the man who had faced off against Death Eaters, Dark Lords and countless other evils was petrified, unable to figure out what to do next.

"There's nothing wrong with this Professor. Not if it's love."

"It isn't love, Selina, it's..."

"No, I love you. And I know you love me. Don't you?"

"Well, I, I think, maybe."

"Yes you do, so what's wrong?"

"I've got a naked fourteen year old student in my office."

"I've locked the door." Selina moved closer to Neville, one hand holding her wand, the other lightly rubbing her slit.

"That's not the point, what would people say?"

"Who? Are you afraid of what people say? You're Neville Longbottom, the Great Protector."

"Professor McGonagall."

"Professor McGonagall would quote Albus Dumbledore, that love is the greatest magic."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Do you think we'd be the first? My mother told me of her school days, she knew of at least three girls who were having affairs with teachers. Lavender Brown even had a relationship with the Firenze the Centaur for a couple of months. Dumbledore and McGonagall knew about all of them." Selina was right up next to Neville now, he could feel himself backing away.

"But..."

"Am I not pretty enough?"

Neville took a moment to examine the young witch. Her face, he already knew to be entrancing, those large all seeing eyes, her pale skin and long blonde hair had filled his dreams more and more over the past few months. Now he got a chance to see under the robes, he liked what he saw. She was slight, her alabaster skin gave her the delicate aura of a china doll, but she'd started to mature early. The curve of her hips was almost poetic, and catching sight of her bottom in the mirror, she reminded him of some of the underwear model witches that he'd spent time with at the Broomsticks. Neville had always been amazed at the way the Hogwarts robes disguised a girl's femininity, Selina's young chest sported two B cup breasts, standing firm and proud.