I'm No Expert | Bleville

3. Infirmary

Infirmary

"What are you thinking about?" Pansy asked as they neared the greenhouse. She was refusing to talk to Draco because of his reluctance to ask Potter out, and was now bothering Blaise, much to his dismay.

"Nothing," He grunted, hoping that she would take it as the end of the conversation.

"Oh, are you practicing occlumency then?" She chirped. It seemed that she was unable to take a hint.

"No."

"So you are thinking about something?" She prodded.

"No. I thought I just told you that?"

When they entered the greenhouse, Blaise was glad for a reason to get Pansy to stop bothering him, so with a quick goodbye (more like good riddance at the moment), he walked over to Neville.

"Good morning," He greeted, trying to repress the awkward feeling that he got whenever he was around Neville.

"Oh, g-good morning," The shorter boy replied. He also looked like he was feeling rather awkward and was tapping a tuneless beat with his foot.

"Good morning, Blaise, Neville," Hermione said as she joined them at the table. She seemed to be as excited as always and unaware of the awkward tension.

"Should w-we get started?" Neville proposed. "I can grab the wheel barrow."

While Neville was busy with fetching the wheel barrow, Blaise returned to Hermione.

"Does he always stutter like that?" He asked. Hermione looked a little taken back by his question and made a considering face.

"Hm... well, I didn't think to notice it before but now..." She started to mumble something under her breath, leaving Blaise completely confused.

"Wha-"

"I got the w-wheel barrow!" Neville interrupted as he clumsily pushed the dirt over to them. The dirt didn't smell good at all. It was giving off a stench like manure​, making them wrinkle their noses.

"Our job is to pack this around the plant so that it gets more nutrients than it probably needs and speed up the process of taming this wild plant," Hermione instructed. She slipped some gloves on and got to work, shoveling piles of dirt around the plant.

For the next thirty minutes or so, they worked on placing manure around the Fanged Geranium. It was very tricky and they were all sweaty and smelled terrible, not to mention exhausted from dodging the swinging vines that the plant was whipping around.

"There! All done," Hermione cheered as she placed the shovel down and tossed her gloves off.

"Finally," Blaise grumbled. "I smell like death."

Neville nodded solemnly and was about to push the wheel barrow over to the back of the greenhouse when out of nowhere, the plant at the station next to them lashed out and struck Theodor Nott, causing him to stumble into Neville.

That wouldn't have been so bad if Neville wasn't pushing his cart right next to the Fanged Geranium opposite of them. It thrashed around and bit Neville's arm, leaving a large bloody gash.

Blaise quickly dashed over and scooped Neville up in his arms to drag him away from the blood thirsty plant. His heat skipped a beat as he realized that Neville had gone limp. His head must have hit the raised bed. He supposed that that was a good thing because then he had probably passed out before the plant tore through his arm. It was better to be painless.

"You need to take him to the infirmary," Hermione instructed, laying a hand on his shoulder. She waved her wand and a few seconds later Neville shook awake.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Blaise asked. As glad as he was the Neville was awake now, he was worried and concerned that he would feel the pain in his arm.

"So that you don't have to drag him across the school grounds. I also cast a few quick healing spells, but they won't do anything much. You're going to have to hurry to madam Pomfrey."

Blaise nodded and swallowed his panic down. Neville wasn't going to die. It was a minor injury, so all they needed to do was make a quick visit to the hospital wing.

"Come on," He murmered to the boy and slung his uninjured arm over his own shoulder. Then, with a little hesitance, he curled his fingers securely around Neville's soft waist.

He almost smiled, but then reminded himself that the poor boy was injured. And that there was nothing to smile about. He wasn't even sure why he was going to smile. Maybe it was hysteria?

On the whole way there, they made no conversation. It was the same awkwardness as usual. He opened his mouth to make conversation several times but changed his mind.

"How did he get this gash?" Asked madam Pomfrey when they arrived at the infirmary.

"He got bit by a Fanged Geranium and knocked his head on the wood when he fell," Blaise explained. He tried to control the shaking of his hands as he lowered Neville on to one of the beds.

"Vulnera Sanentur," Madam Pomfrey said as she pointed her wand at Neville's gash. The wound melted together, leaving dried blood around the area.

"You're going to need a blood replenishing potion for the loss of all of that blood," She said as she handed a vial over. Neville made a face.

"Drink it," She ordered and promptly turned around to attend to another student.

"It tastes like iron," He complained as he popped the stopper off of the vial. Then, he tipped it up and gulped it all down.

Blaise blushed as he watched Neville's throat work the liquid down. He wasn't sure why he was blushing because all he had done was watch Neville drink some potion.

"Are you feeling okay now?" Blaise asked.

"Y-yeah, its just a minor injury. I'll be fine," Neville sighed. He definitely looked less pale now that he had taken the blood replenishing potion and his face was no longer pinched in pain.

"So..." Blaise started. "How's Trevor?" 

"Oh, he's d-doing great..." He trailed off awkwardly and gave a small crooked smile that sent Blaise's heart skipping. In the little moment of silence, Blaise stared at his smile in wonder. How could such a small thing be so beaut-

Wait, what?!

"B-blaise?" The shorter boy tilted his head in concern, "Are you alright?"

No, Blaise thought to himself. I think I need to go. And so he did just that. He ran out of the infirmary with heart pounding heavily in his ears. He was confused, not to mention embarrassed that he had left Neville so abruptly. He was probably sitting on the infirmary bed thinking about what a weirdo he was.