HP fic:,The Wooing of Hannah and Neville. (WIP)
Title: The Wooing of Hannah and Neville.
Author:
pathology_doc
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: So far, no worse than canon - it may or may not get explicit later.
Notes/Warnings: Assumes halfblood status for Hannah (magical father, Muggle mother) as per JKR interview post-DH, with the Abbotts living in the Muggle world when she's not at Hogwarts.
It would not be fair to say that the meal Neville ate immediately after Voldemort's death was the finest he'd ever eaten in his life; it was mostly leftovers, sandwiches and whatever else the heroically depleted (and still celebrating) House Elves in the kitchen could find at short notice to provide their fellow victors. It was, however, the first in many weeks that had not passed the lips of Neville Longbottom, wanted man, and it was the first for twenty-four hours that had not been snatched between bouts of extreme violence that might make each hurriedly-gulped mouthful his last.
So he scarcely noticed the buzzing throng of admirers who had gathered around him and the Sword of Gryffindor as it lay on the table. (He would put it back later, he told himself, knowing where it would always be found when needed.) Most of them were girls from his year, or the few sixth-years who'd been old enough to fight, but there were one or two boys orbiting the table as well. He recognised Ernie Macmillan (probably because Hannah Abbott, his fellow Hufflepuff, was among the girls) and Dean Thomas (who'd done such a sterling job covering Luna's back at one point), and a handful of DA Ravenclaws who were still alive, but few people made conversation - or rather everyone around him talked to everyone else about what they'd seen Neville do and say, and occasionally the telling would become embellished and he would have to remind them that he hadn't actually used the words "Go fuck yourself" to Voldemort, even if what he had said amounted to the same thing.
He hadn't had such attention or adulation since the end of his first year, when he'd sneaked ten points for Gryffindor and got it over the line to beat Slytherin for the House cup. The Huffs and Claws had cheered then too, mostly because they'd been pleased to see Slytherin pride go before a fall, but this time all three of the other Houses were winners. Slytherin were certainly the losers today, Crabbe especially, but they had nobody to blame for that except themselves. Neville took no great joy in that - he was just grateful to be alive, and it would be even better after more than 24 hours awake and fighting for his life if he could just be on his own.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had already disappeared he knew not where, and that was their right - they'd been the student core of the whole anti-Voldemort struggle for the last seven years and that was their right. But no, here came Ron and Hermione now, hand in hand, thank Merlin - about time they worked that out, Neville thought. He should really disappear too, even if he had nobody of his own to disappear with, and he was just about to take his leave of the throng when he saw that the throng had sensed his need and taken its leave of him.
Almost.
It didn't take him long to recognise the girl sitting next to him. "Hello, Hannah - I bet Professor Sprout is pretty pleased with you today."
Hannah Abbott shrugged. "I think she's just pleased that some of her students are still alive," she replied. "I suppose McGonagall and Flitwick feel the same. Don't know about Slughorn, though."
"I think we can all be pleased we're still alive," Neville replied. "What did we lose - fifty, sixty students and teachers? Merlin's beard, even some of the younger ones sneaked back." He tried not to think about Colin Creevy, so devoted to Harry from the first to the very, very last, coming through so much and dying so close to the end... "How did you guys do overall?"
"We... didn't lose many. Professor Sprout kept us busy organising the defences, bringing up unpleasant things from the greenhouses, that sort of thing - Susan Bones is the worst-off; she got splinched trying to disapparate away from a killing curse..."
"Still alive?" Neville asked, knowing that disapparition had never been Susan's strong point. Like Hannah and to some extent like Neville himself, Susan was one of those people who'd lost a family member in the long prelude to this horrific year, and he felt a certain kinship with her.
Hannah nodded glumly. "Sometimes I wonder if that's a good thing. She made the jump, but it took us half an hour to fight our way through to her and she was screaming in agony the whole time. She's going to be up to her neck in dittany and skele-gro for months before she can move again, poor girl."
Neville raised a hand to one of his cheeks. Next to injuries like those, his own wounds seemed pretty minor. "What about you? Are you alright?"
"Is any of us? I'm uninjured, but I'm never going to forget tonight as long as I live. In the good way and the bad way. A wise Muggle once said there's nothing more exhilarating than to be shot at without result, and I've been there, but it's no comfort when too many of your friends get shot at with result and aren't going to recover. I guess Muggles are used to that, and maybe Death Eaters are because they play for keeps, but we're not. I only hope it's over for good this time - that we're not going to see another war in fifteen or twenty years or so. Otherwise everything we've done tonight is wasted."
Neville shook his head. "No, you heard what Harry said when he and Voldemort talked at the end - this is it. There isn't going to be a next time."
"That's what they said in Grindelwald's era too," Hannah replied. "One of my grandfathers nearly lost his life in the Muggle war that was happening at about the same time. And my mother died in this one, and... I don't like my chances if it happens again."
"Then we should both try and pick very quiet careers," Neville said.
Hannah snorted. "You, pick a quiet career? I don't believe it." But there was levity in the disbelief, and Neville felt his heart warming towards her.
"Well, quiet is relative. Just... you know, not an auror or a Ministry job. Maybe teaching..."
"Is that why you've been spending the last three years hanging around Professor Sprout's door like she was your Housemistress instead of McGonagall?" Hannah asked. "Honestly, Neville, there were days I seriously thought the Sorting Hat had called you wrong and you were trying to get a transfer somehow."
Neville laughed now. "Nothing like that, no. But you've sort of guessed it right. I was always best at Herbology, but needing Mad-Eye - or the fellow we all thought was Mad-Eye - to give me the nudge on the Gillyweed in fourth year sort of upset me. It made me realise I wasn't quite as good as I thought I was, so I... sort of showed up for extra tuition and it snowballed from there. Plus Hufflepuff girls are cute to look at, so any time I spent waiting for my lessons wasn't wasted."
Hannah found a grin from somewhere. "Oh, are they now? Well speaking of cute girls, you certainly seem to have had your share to look at this morning. I'm surprised you didn't do more than look."
Neville's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know... offered to comfort them and seen where it went."
Neville blushed. "Hannah, no. That'd be..."
"Taking advantage of them?" Hannah asked. "It might be, but there's not a girl left standing after last night who hasn't been through the same things you have. We're all adults after what we just did, Neville; a bit of a tumble under the cover of comfort isn't going to break any hearts."
Neville looked at her wordlessly.
After an uncomfortable thirty seconds, she said "You really are that pure of heart, aren't you, Neville? I'm sorry - I shouldn't have said that the way I did. But it's true - it's awfully hard at the moment to tell which of you or Harry was the braver last night, and there's not a girl in this hall apart from Hermione or Ginny who wouldn't let you steal a bunch of kisses if you were subtle enough about it."
"Just them?" Neville asked. "I thought you and Ernie..."
Hannah shook her head. "We're the two top chocolate frog card collectors in the English-speaking Wizarding World and we're fellow-prefects, but we've never even ki... well, okay, once on a dare when we were twelve. And he snogged me right fair just before the OWLs to try and settle me down and he held my hand at mum's funeral, but that was all. It might have gone further but I started hanging out with Susan a lot from the start of Sixth Year, for obvious reasons, and Ernie and I never saw enough of each other before... well, you know..."
Neville nodded. "It's alright, I know what you mean."
"I thought you might. You poor thing, we should find you someone to hang out with."
"I'm sort of happy to hang out with Harry at the moment. We've got a lot in common, you know; no parents - well, in my case none who recognise me any more - weight of the world on our shoulders - that sort of thing. You know the Weasleys lost Fred last night don't you?"
"Yes, poor Mr and Mrs Weasley - poor all of them, really, but nobody should have to bury their kids."
"Yes, well, Ginny's mostly keeping her family's company right now and Ron and Hermione have each other. I'll go up and talk to Harry and I'm sure we'll both be alright. But hey, Hannah..."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for talking to me. Can we chat again sometime soon?"
Hannah smiled weakly. It had been an awful night and she still wanted to do nothing more than to return to what was left of her dorm and cry it off alone. She wouldn't have minded Neville's company, but he - bless his Gryffindor heart - wouldn't have wanted to do any more than hold her and she might have wanted more than that, so it wouldn't have been fair on him to ask him to join her. But in the cold light of day... well, all sorts of things might happen. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"
"This place is a disaster area and I'm sure they'll shut it down for repairs," Neville said. "Hogsmeade's a mess as well, so I guess that leaves..."
"Your place or mine?" Hannah asked.
Neville smiled. "Is that your Muggle side talking?" He was much relieved by Hannah's offer. Much as his stand as head of the DA had finally earned him his grandmother's respect, he really didn't think she'd take well to him bringing girls home for the night quite yet - she was old-fashioned like that sometimes.
"It... sort of, but where else?"
The obvious idea popped into Neville's head. "Leaky Cauldron, this time next week? We're both of age, after all."
Hannah grinned now. "You're asking me to drinks at the Leaky?"
Neville stood and smiled. "I suppose I am, yes."
Hannah shook hands with him. "It's a date. And now, I think we should go to bed." Oh what the hell did I just say? she thought and rushed to cover herself, stumbling over her words. "Er, I mean separately. You know, to sleep. Long night and all that." She turned away, not wanting him to see her mortification.
"Of course," Neville replied, blushing just a little for both of them as she waved goodbye and turned away. Honourable Gryffindor though he may be, respect her as a comrade in arms though he might, Hannah Abbott was one hot piece of Hufflepuff skirt and there was a part of him which very definitely did not want to cuddle up to her solely for the purpose of comfort. Just... any time but now.
Author:
pathology_doc
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: So far, no worse than canon - it may or may not get explicit later.
Notes/Warnings: Assumes halfblood status for Hannah (magical father, Muggle mother) as per JKR interview post-DH, with the Abbotts living in the Muggle world when she's not at Hogwarts.
It would not be fair to say that the meal Neville ate immediately after Voldemort's death was the finest he'd ever eaten in his life; it was mostly leftovers, sandwiches and whatever else the heroically depleted (and still celebrating) House Elves in the kitchen could find at short notice to provide their fellow victors. It was, however, the first in many weeks that had not passed the lips of Neville Longbottom, wanted man, and it was the first for twenty-four hours that had not been snatched between bouts of extreme violence that might make each hurriedly-gulped mouthful his last.
So he scarcely noticed the buzzing throng of admirers who had gathered around him and the Sword of Gryffindor as it lay on the table. (He would put it back later, he told himself, knowing where it would always be found when needed.) Most of them were girls from his year, or the few sixth-years who'd been old enough to fight, but there were one or two boys orbiting the table as well. He recognised Ernie Macmillan (probably because Hannah Abbott, his fellow Hufflepuff, was among the girls) and Dean Thomas (who'd done such a sterling job covering Luna's back at one point), and a handful of DA Ravenclaws who were still alive, but few people made conversation - or rather everyone around him talked to everyone else about what they'd seen Neville do and say, and occasionally the telling would become embellished and he would have to remind them that he hadn't actually used the words "Go fuck yourself" to Voldemort, even if what he had said amounted to the same thing.
He hadn't had such attention or adulation since the end of his first year, when he'd sneaked ten points for Gryffindor and got it over the line to beat Slytherin for the House cup. The Huffs and Claws had cheered then too, mostly because they'd been pleased to see Slytherin pride go before a fall, but this time all three of the other Houses were winners. Slytherin were certainly the losers today, Crabbe especially, but they had nobody to blame for that except themselves. Neville took no great joy in that - he was just grateful to be alive, and it would be even better after more than 24 hours awake and fighting for his life if he could just be on his own.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had already disappeared he knew not where, and that was their right - they'd been the student core of the whole anti-Voldemort struggle for the last seven years and that was their right. But no, here came Ron and Hermione now, hand in hand, thank Merlin - about time they worked that out, Neville thought. He should really disappear too, even if he had nobody of his own to disappear with, and he was just about to take his leave of the throng when he saw that the throng had sensed his need and taken its leave of him.
Almost.
It didn't take him long to recognise the girl sitting next to him. "Hello, Hannah - I bet Professor Sprout is pretty pleased with you today."
Hannah Abbott shrugged. "I think she's just pleased that some of her students are still alive," she replied. "I suppose McGonagall and Flitwick feel the same. Don't know about Slughorn, though."
"I think we can all be pleased we're still alive," Neville replied. "What did we lose - fifty, sixty students and teachers? Merlin's beard, even some of the younger ones sneaked back." He tried not to think about Colin Creevy, so devoted to Harry from the first to the very, very last, coming through so much and dying so close to the end... "How did you guys do overall?"
"We... didn't lose many. Professor Sprout kept us busy organising the defences, bringing up unpleasant things from the greenhouses, that sort of thing - Susan Bones is the worst-off; she got splinched trying to disapparate away from a killing curse..."
"Still alive?" Neville asked, knowing that disapparition had never been Susan's strong point. Like Hannah and to some extent like Neville himself, Susan was one of those people who'd lost a family member in the long prelude to this horrific year, and he felt a certain kinship with her.
Hannah nodded glumly. "Sometimes I wonder if that's a good thing. She made the jump, but it took us half an hour to fight our way through to her and she was screaming in agony the whole time. She's going to be up to her neck in dittany and skele-gro for months before she can move again, poor girl."
Neville raised a hand to one of his cheeks. Next to injuries like those, his own wounds seemed pretty minor. "What about you? Are you alright?"
"Is any of us? I'm uninjured, but I'm never going to forget tonight as long as I live. In the good way and the bad way. A wise Muggle once said there's nothing more exhilarating than to be shot at without result, and I've been there, but it's no comfort when too many of your friends get shot at with result and aren't going to recover. I guess Muggles are used to that, and maybe Death Eaters are because they play for keeps, but we're not. I only hope it's over for good this time - that we're not going to see another war in fifteen or twenty years or so. Otherwise everything we've done tonight is wasted."
Neville shook his head. "No, you heard what Harry said when he and Voldemort talked at the end - this is it. There isn't going to be a next time."
"That's what they said in Grindelwald's era too," Hannah replied. "One of my grandfathers nearly lost his life in the Muggle war that was happening at about the same time. And my mother died in this one, and... I don't like my chances if it happens again."
"Then we should both try and pick very quiet careers," Neville said.
Hannah snorted. "You, pick a quiet career? I don't believe it." But there was levity in the disbelief, and Neville felt his heart warming towards her.
"Well, quiet is relative. Just... you know, not an auror or a Ministry job. Maybe teaching..."
"Is that why you've been spending the last three years hanging around Professor Sprout's door like she was your Housemistress instead of McGonagall?" Hannah asked. "Honestly, Neville, there were days I seriously thought the Sorting Hat had called you wrong and you were trying to get a transfer somehow."
Neville laughed now. "Nothing like that, no. But you've sort of guessed it right. I was always best at Herbology, but needing Mad-Eye - or the fellow we all thought was Mad-Eye - to give me the nudge on the Gillyweed in fourth year sort of upset me. It made me realise I wasn't quite as good as I thought I was, so I... sort of showed up for extra tuition and it snowballed from there. Plus Hufflepuff girls are cute to look at, so any time I spent waiting for my lessons wasn't wasted."
Hannah found a grin from somewhere. "Oh, are they now? Well speaking of cute girls, you certainly seem to have had your share to look at this morning. I'm surprised you didn't do more than look."
Neville's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know... offered to comfort them and seen where it went."
Neville blushed. "Hannah, no. That'd be..."
"Taking advantage of them?" Hannah asked. "It might be, but there's not a girl left standing after last night who hasn't been through the same things you have. We're all adults after what we just did, Neville; a bit of a tumble under the cover of comfort isn't going to break any hearts."
Neville looked at her wordlessly.
After an uncomfortable thirty seconds, she said "You really are that pure of heart, aren't you, Neville? I'm sorry - I shouldn't have said that the way I did. But it's true - it's awfully hard at the moment to tell which of you or Harry was the braver last night, and there's not a girl in this hall apart from Hermione or Ginny who wouldn't let you steal a bunch of kisses if you were subtle enough about it."
"Just them?" Neville asked. "I thought you and Ernie..."
Hannah shook her head. "We're the two top chocolate frog card collectors in the English-speaking Wizarding World and we're fellow-prefects, but we've never even ki... well, okay, once on a dare when we were twelve. And he snogged me right fair just before the OWLs to try and settle me down and he held my hand at mum's funeral, but that was all. It might have gone further but I started hanging out with Susan a lot from the start of Sixth Year, for obvious reasons, and Ernie and I never saw enough of each other before... well, you know..."
Neville nodded. "It's alright, I know what you mean."
"I thought you might. You poor thing, we should find you someone to hang out with."
"I'm sort of happy to hang out with Harry at the moment. We've got a lot in common, you know; no parents - well, in my case none who recognise me any more - weight of the world on our shoulders - that sort of thing. You know the Weasleys lost Fred last night don't you?"
"Yes, poor Mr and Mrs Weasley - poor all of them, really, but nobody should have to bury their kids."
"Yes, well, Ginny's mostly keeping her family's company right now and Ron and Hermione have each other. I'll go up and talk to Harry and I'm sure we'll both be alright. But hey, Hannah..."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for talking to me. Can we chat again sometime soon?"
Hannah smiled weakly. It had been an awful night and she still wanted to do nothing more than to return to what was left of her dorm and cry it off alone. She wouldn't have minded Neville's company, but he - bless his Gryffindor heart - wouldn't have wanted to do any more than hold her and she might have wanted more than that, so it wouldn't have been fair on him to ask him to join her. But in the cold light of day... well, all sorts of things might happen. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"
"This place is a disaster area and I'm sure they'll shut it down for repairs," Neville said. "Hogsmeade's a mess as well, so I guess that leaves..."
"Your place or mine?" Hannah asked.
Neville smiled. "Is that your Muggle side talking?" He was much relieved by Hannah's offer. Much as his stand as head of the DA had finally earned him his grandmother's respect, he really didn't think she'd take well to him bringing girls home for the night quite yet - she was old-fashioned like that sometimes.
"It... sort of, but where else?"
The obvious idea popped into Neville's head. "Leaky Cauldron, this time next week? We're both of age, after all."
Hannah grinned now. "You're asking me to drinks at the Leaky?"
Neville stood and smiled. "I suppose I am, yes."
Hannah shook hands with him. "It's a date. And now, I think we should go to bed." Oh what the hell did I just say? she thought and rushed to cover herself, stumbling over her words. "Er, I mean separately. You know, to sleep. Long night and all that." She turned away, not wanting him to see her mortification.
"Of course," Neville replied, blushing just a little for both of them as she waved goodbye and turned away. Honourable Gryffindor though he may be, respect her as a comrade in arms though he might, Hannah Abbott was one hot piece of Hufflepuff skirt and there was a part of him which very definitely did not want to cuddle up to her solely for the purpose of comfort. Just... any time but now.