Neville was chubby. He knew it, and most everyone around him knew it too. He was used to the people around him crushing on his friends instead of on him. He'd long accepted that was just the way that things were. He didn't really like his body, but he couldn't ever seen to commit to changing it. So, instead, he just turned to plants.

Plants didn't judge him. Plants didn't tell him he was chubby. Plants didn't call him a Squib because he was slower at learning magic than everyone else was. He could just be himself, and tend to the plants, who would just be grateful that he watered and fed them. He'd spend hours in the Herbology gardens after school.

One day, you showed up. Intimidating. Scary. Muscled, and lean. Everything he wasn't. He was petrified, sure he was about to be beat up. But you just spoke to him. Over time, you became friends. Then.. something in between. You'd stand behind him while he watered the plants, kneading at his hips or rubbing over his round, soft tummy.

He was flustered, and had no idea why you did it. "...What are you doing?" He finally asked.