Neville Longbottom was a hero, but the title wasn't sitting well on him. He'd much rather stay at home and work in his greenhouse than attend any more Ministry functions, even with his friends there with him -- they couldn't spend much time together there because they were supposed to mingle.
Sure enough, a neatly dressed couple came up to him before he'd time to do more than glance around for anyone he knew at the latest event. "Mr Longbottom, it's a pleasure," said the woman. "I'm Chandra Golightly, I am an editor of the Society pages at Witch Weekly. This is my associate, Terence Lukes," Ms Golightly said, introducing her companion. "He has been just dying to meet you."
"Indeed!" Mr Lukes said enthusiastically. "You must call me Terry." He looked Neville up and down as they shook hands. "Now, my boy, why don't you have a beautiful young lady on your arm? Unattached celebrity as you are."
"Well, I --" Neville began, but Terry overrode him.
"It's the dirt under your fingernails, no doubt," he said.
"I beg your pardon?" Neville thought he must have heard wrong.
"Oh, you mustn't mind Terry," Ms Golightly said. "He's an image consultant and he's just itching to improve your image."
"What's wrong with my image?"
"You look so, so ... homely!" Terry exclaimed. "You always look like you threw on your only dress robes straight from the greenhouse or the library. I simply must come to your home to see what state you live in."
"I don't think --"
"How's tomorrow morning? I'll bring my team and we'll see what we can do to make you more eligible and not such an embarrassment. Ten-o'-clock? Abominably early but it's clear we have a lot of work to do. I'll see you then!"
And before Neville could protest more, Terry waved jauntily and rushed away -- to prepare for the next day, no doubt.
"I'm sorry, Neville," Ms Golightly said, not sounding at all apologetic, "but Terry never takes no for an answer. And I think you will enjoy the result. Good evening."
She left Neville standing alone, brow furrowed and mind blank with shock. He'd never been so apprehensive about the next day, not even when he was rescuing students from the Carrows. Tomorrow should be interesting.
Neville didn't bother to clean up before his guests arrived; he wasn't particularly untidy in the first place and he didn't care about making a good impression. He spent the morning in the library, reading up on magical ferns. When the doorbell rang he grimaced and went to answer it.
But Gran had gotten there first. "I daresay my grandson does well enough with courage and brains, he doesn't need a make-over," she was saying, but Terry was hardly listening.
"You'll be just astonished," he assured her, then saw Neville. "There's our man! Nev, let me introduce the team. I'm Terry, I do fashion of course. There's Petra, she does interior design. And that's Cameron, he does hair. And Chandra, you know her. She's reporting." Chandra waved and held up a camera and a Quick Quotes Quill.
"Shall we have a tour?" Petra said.
"I don't -- " Gran began, but they all pushed past her, carrying Neville along with them. They swiveled around him like he was the eye of a storm, chattering incessantly.
"Your hair looks like you're still in wartime. Have you even been to a salon?"
"I didn't know anyone still had their walls painted white. How about a nice beige? Hmm, that's a bit yellow actually."
"Good heavens, is your entire wardrobe grass-stained? All four sets of robes? You simply cannot exist with clothing like this."
"What do you think of this style? Short and spiky, very attractive to the ladies. How about -- oh, no, that illusion went off. We don't need ringlets do we?"
"Hold still, Mr. Longbottom, I need to take your picture."
"You could really spice things up in this room if you made some kind of tribute to your efforts in the war. I'm thinking maybe a snake motif along the top there?"
"Now, look at what I'm doing with this tatty old thing. It should be form-fitting but still flattering, with pockets like so. And I think I'll change the color, too. Potter's kind of got the market on green so how about a nice blue? Or pink, that's coming in to fashion."
Neville stood it as long as he could -- he didn't have a choice. He could never get a word in edgewise and just had to watch as they cast charm after charm, trying to find his perfect image. Finally, though, he felt he must explode if he didn't do something, so he whipped out his wand and cast a shield so strong they all fell back.
"Listen to me, all of you! You can't just change everything about me and expect it to stick. The second you leave I'll remove the paint from the walls and Transfigure my robes back to normal."
"But, Nev," Terry said, "you simply can't go on as you have. It's disgraceful."
"That's really for me to decide," Neville replied. He paused and looked at them each in turn, making sure they knew he meant it, then spoke again. "Now. I've been discontent lately, I'll admit that. You can put it in your article if you want," he told Chandra, glaring at her Quick Quotes Quill. "A subtle improvement of my image might help me feel better about my responsibilities. But I want to choose. I'll admit I need a haircut, but not short and spiky, and absolutely no ringlets. I'll even take some new robes, but nothing too fashionable. Hero or not, I spend most of my time in a greenhouse, and I'm not going to change my habits just because I have some fancy new clothes. And . . . well, my Gran's been meaning to redecorate the parlor. If you ask her what colors and styles she'd like, I'm sure she'd be quite pleased. Nothing else. Is that clear?"
Chandra shook her head. "He looks like such a pushover, you know," she murmured to Petra.
"Think of what a great story you can spin it into," Petra whispered back.
"We'll take you up on your offer," Terry said. "A slight improvement is better than no improvement at all. Cameron, get him the hairstyling book."
The next morning, Neville smiled as he looked in the mirror. He looked neat and tidy with his nicely trimmed hair and new robes, which would go just perfectly in the greenhouse. Not only that, he didn't have any more Ministry functions for the rest of the week. To celebrate, he'd invited his friends over for an informal garden party. They would finally spend some time together, and no one would mind some dirt under his fingernails.
To Improve a Hero's Image by Cinderella Angelina
Chapter Endnotes: Hello, thank you for finishing the story. I desperately wanted this to be a Neville/Hannah fic (every time I think about them, I like them more), but, as you can see, I never even mentioned Hannah. Within the original length restrictions I cut out every slightly unnecessary character, and it's a lot harder to reinsert characters into a finished product than I'd ever realized. Maybe I'll write a drabble (or a sequel!) about the garden party, which Hannah was of course invited to.