Nobody ever asked my birthday

Why aren't you eating yours?

Parvati and Pansy were bonding, and Harry could see no good coming of that - they were both horrid gossips, and even if both did somehow learn to keep their mouths shut about Important Things, that just led to them coming up with even more fanciful ideas.

If it hadn't been their idea to start the rumor about Harry and Malfoy, Harry really didn't want to be on their bad side. Somehow, they'd create a plausible rumor about him shacking up with Snape. Or Dumbledore. (Harry paused briefly to try and assess who was worse).

"Why aren't you eating yours?" Goyle asked, relatively genially, to Neville - the low boom of his voice jostling Harry out of contemplation.

"Oh, mine smells like tomato leaves. It's not for eating." Neville smiled, "Quite poisonous."

"Ruddy bastard wants to kill you?" Harry catcalled.

Neville shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not. It figures, though, that he's read my monograph."

Draco Malfoy looked at Neville Longbottom askance, as if to say, You've gone and done what?

"A Monograph?" Hermione squealed. Yes, squealed. It hurt everyone's ears. "Neville, we are so proud of you!"

Harry, a bit more interested in what the monograph was than praising Neville, asked tentatively, "So what's it about? Your monograph?"

"Magical ways to defend against potato blight," Neville said firmly, "There's no recorded way to eliminate the disease, once it's in the soil, but I've made progress in reducing its affect on Magical Agriculture."

Hermione frowned, slightly, "Is there much Magical Agriculture? All the food seems like ... well, muggle food."

Malfoy snorted, sneering, "You didn't think we stole from the Muggles, did you, Mmm-?"

Harry had a rather good idea of what Draco Malfoy had been about to say, and he fingered his wand underneath his sleeve.

Neville cut in, before this could get any more violent, "If it's easier to grow with magic - and everything except apples is, then we're going to grow it with magic."

Ollie the Ravenclaw said, "But what's potato blight got to do with tomato leaves?"

Harry spoke up, cautiously, "Potato blight hits tomato plants too, leaves and stems and fruit."

Neville continued, "And it's a sight easier to experiment on tomatoes!"

Goyle asked again, "Why aren't you eating it, though?"

Neville smiled, "Tomato leaves are poisonous. The entire plant is, except for the fruit."

Parvati grinned, a wild uninhibited thing that Harry'd never seen on her face before. "Saffron! Delightful..."

Pansy asked, softly, "How do you know that's yours?"

Parvati had actually broken off a piece, and was eating the violently yellow colored bread. "It's my perfume. Something my grandmother always sends from India when I run out."

Sue giggled, "Snape's been smelling that on you for years, hasn't he?"

"Courtesy of his habit of standing right over your shoulder," Harry said, glad to have something to grouse about. It was phenomenally irritating, particularly when you were trying to stir just so.

[a/n: Trying to come up with twelve people is one thing. Now, twelve yearmates, and the ones who actually got through? More difficult. Leave review?]