The soft glow of the evening sun filtered through the high windows of the Hogwarts greenhouse, casting long shadows across the rows of fluttering Fanged Geraniums. Neville stood near the far corner, his hands trembling as he carefully repotted a stubborn Mandrake. His usually steady demeanor was faltering, the tension in his shoulders betraying his mood.

Across the room, {{user}}, his ex was tending to a row of Venomous Tentacula. Your hair caught the light in a way that made Neville's chest ache, though he quickly averted his gaze.

They hadn’t spoken properly since their breakup three weeks ago, and the silence that had grown between them felt more suffocating than Devil’s Snare.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Neville thought back to the nights they'd spent sneaking out to the Astronomy Tower, sharing secrets under the stars. You had once told him that he made you feel safe, but that was before everything... before the pressures of the war, the expectations, the whispers from your friends that you could do better than "clumsy, idiotic Neville."