Imagines

Tu Est Belle

Author: Belladonna (Tumblr)

French to English:
Ce est bien ~ that’s alright
Veux-tu sortir avec moi ~ Will you go out with me
Tu est belle ~ you’re beautiful 
Je irai avec vous ~ I’ll go out with you

When you started Hogwarts, your parents requested that you have a work-study to offset the cost school since you refused to go to Beuxbatons. At first, you complained about having to give up your free time, but when you learned you would be working in the greenhouse you quickly changed your tune. Your mother and you were always working in your garden, harvesting, tilling, and planting which was exhausting yet oddly calming for you. The idea of working with plants, let alone magical ones, would make the transition to Hogwarts all the more easier for you.

The job was everything you could hope for as it gave you a sense of home without leaving the school grounds. Professor Sprout was accommodating by telling you your tasks in French, which surprised you. The greenhouse was a relatively empty, calm place aside from the occasional magical weeding season. It was the perfect place for you to be alone with your thoughts.

Everything was going fine until a boy started staying late in the greenhouse hovering over a notebook. You had seen him in your other classes but had not caught on to what his name might be. You didn’t understand why he stayed so late until you found his notebook open and abandoned on the table. The page contained a sketch to what you recognized as gillyweed. You touched the pages gently, tracing the intricate lines of the drawings being careful not to smear the ink.

“Not the most beautiful of plants but useful none the less,” a voice called from the shadows. You jumped at the sound; you didn’t expect anyone to stop by the greenhouse this late. Your body only began to relax when it realized it was the owner of the notebook. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“Ce est bien,” you stopped yourself. He probably didn’t know French; it would only confuse him if you talked in French so you reverted to English, “That’s alright” 

Much to your relief, the boy ignored your slip of French and continued conversing normally. “I’ve seen you working every time I visit, and I failed to introduce myself. I’m Neville, Neville Longbottom.”  

“I’m Y/N,” you replied, “It’s nice to finally put a name to the boy who blocks my path to watering the mandrakes.” You meant the comment all in good fun and hoped Neville would see it similarly. 

“I can’t help it that you want to get in the way of good art,” Neville teased back. “I mean unless you don’t think they’re very good sketches.” You started flipping through the book; the pictures were more detailed than any textbook images you viewed.

“They’re alright,” you mumbled, jokingly of course. Neville’s grin grew wider as he spoke,

“I take it that you’ll be able to tolerate me drawing?”  

“If the mandrakes wilt, I’m blaming you,” you smirked off and walked away.

From then on Neville made it his goal to talk and visit you while you worked in the greenhouse. At first, your conversations took place solely at work and centered on Herbology humor and his sketches.  Eventually, the two of you began to see each other outside your work and expanded your conversations beyond Herbology. You debated about the on goings of the wizarding world, discussed quidditch predictions, and talked about your dream vacation destinations. When you felt homesick, you expressed your frustration for the lack of French you were able to speak, and Neville listened. You didn’t abhor the English language, it was just a language you spoke for the sake of necessity. When you felt a little better, you always assured Neville that although he was unable to speak French, you enjoyed your English conversations with him just fine.

At times, the two of you didn’t converse but enjoyed each other’s company in silence. You would read one of your favorite novels while Neville would sketch plants from memory. It took several weeks of coaching to convince him that his art skills were too good to be reserved solely for plants. With his non-plant sketches, he always gave them unique names. You recalled his first art piece; it was a simple broom titled wingless on account of it not being bewitched to fly.  

The more time you spent together, the less reading you were able to accomplish. From the moment you sat down, you could feel the pull of your eyes to look at his gentle black curls and his furrowed brows as he drew. As you watched him, your mind would start to wonder how it would feel if he touched you or looked at you the way he looked at his art. Much to your dismay, you knew that Neville would never see you that way; to him you were a fellow green thumb enthusiast and nothing more.    

Today was a rainy day, and the two or you were at your usual spots on the couch reading and drawing. Well, you were trying to read anyway. You wanted nothing more than to brush up against Neville or curl up with him instead of your book, but your better judgment prevented you. Instead, you daydreamed about Neville’s body wrapped around you as he playfully stroked your hair. 

“Y/N, Y/N are you there?” Neville chimed breaking you from your daydream. 

“Yes,” you replied sweetly as your eyes locked with his. His eyes were one of your favorite features about him; You called them the chocolate sunset as they were a dark brown color with piercing rays of copper and gold. You were so caught up in his eyes, that it took Neville shaking you to bring you back down. 

“You feeling ok Y/N? You seem a little out of it,” Neville asked concerned.

“No, no I’m fine,” you reassured. “What were you trying to ask me?”

“I just wanted to show you one of my latest sketches that I’ve been working on for a couple of days now,” Neville smiled as he handed his sketch to you. You gasped when you saw that it was a sketch of you reading your book. Every detail was there, from the way you sat legs crossed on the couch to the way your hair fell in your eyes as you read. 

“It’s fantastic Neville. You got every detail right,” you marveled and scanned the drawing again. 

“Don’t you want to know what I called it?” Neville piped. You raised your head to look at him once again. “Veux-tu sortir avec moi.” It took you a moment to wrap your head around what he just said. Did he just ask you to go out with him?

“Wait can you repeat that?” you wanted to be sure you heard it correctly. 

“Veux-tu sortir avec moi,” Neville blushed. “Did I say it right?”

“Yes, but I just didn’t expect you to ask me out,” you pulled a lock of hair behind your face. 

“How could I not Y/N,” Neville slid in next to you, and whispered in your ear, “Tu est belle.” You wanted to melt right there. You never expected Neville to ask you out in French let alone call you beautiful in French too. 

“Je irai avec vous,” you smiled back as you grabbed Neville’s hand, and leaned into him. It was everything you wanted.