Disclaimer: Recognize it? Not mine.


A Matter of Trust

"Greetings, my noble gentleman. What can I offer you today?"

Neville allowed himself to smile, for he was quite used to his friend's antics.

"What is it, Hannah? No crazy drink or potion you want to try on me today?"

"I'm afraid not, kind sir. And do not call me Hannah. I'm Mrs. Wolley, owner of a bookshop and main character of..."

"The Forgotten Spell, yes. I know that one." Neville sat down, thinking of a way to make her break character. "Mrs. Wolley, it's not right for a lady to be selling drinks to a lonely gentleman. Don't you have to go on a very important quest, anyway?"

Hannah shot him an angry glance, but in the end, Neville was successful and she let out a giggle. He smiled coyly.

"Just a Butterbeer then, Hannah," he said.

As she was gone to bring his drink, Neville couldn't help but let out a wider grin. Hannah was someone he didn't have any trouble interacting with, since her extroverted nature balanced out his shyness. He'd found that, much to his surprise, he was good at making her laugh and coming up with witticisms when she was around.

"That part is made for me, Neville," she muttered as she brought his drink. After quickly glancing around, she sat down with him. "Ernie says I should give up. He says my emotions are too close to the surface and that I'm not good at pretending to be someone I'm not."

"Ernie Macmillan is a good man, and an even better friend, but I happen to think that he speaks a lot of nonsense," was Neville's opinion. "You were amazing at lying to the Carrows to help people to avoid detention. And that was five years ago! I'd say you've gotten much better by now."

"Thanks, Neville. But if he's wrong, then what is my problem? Why can't I get the parts I want?"

Hannah's problem, as far as Neville was concerned, was that she couldn't see how amazing she was.

"I-I don't know," he said. "I don't think there's any problem, really."

Hannah didn't seem to happy with that answer, for she stood up and started cleaning the nearest table. She works so hard, he thought.

Hannah worked at the Leaky Cauldron to pay for her studies in the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts. Neville often found her crouched over a script behind the bar, too busy with work and studies to be her usual lively, chatty self.

But that day, she seemed to be more relaxed. Neville drank his Butterbeer patiently, knowing that Hannah wouldn't be able to resist the urge to talk to him. When she did have the time to be attentive, she usually found it hard to let silence set in.

"So what brings you here so early?" She didn't disappoint.

"I'm visiting my parents today. Dad's birthday was last week, but I didn't really get a break during the exams... It's harder when you're the one teaching, trust me," he let out a half-hearted laugh. "But it's worth it."

She gave him an intense stare. Her eyes had lost their vivacious quality on their last year at Hogwarts, so every time she stared at him like that, his heart skipped a beat.

"Why don't you wait until my shift is over? I'll go with you."

"No," he answered right away. "I'd rather go alone."

Hannah seemed to carefully consider his words, for she was squinting and biting her lip. When she spoke, it was clear to Neville that her response had been calculated as well.

"I went once."

"What? Why?!"

It was no secret to Hannah that his parents were permanent residents at St. Mungo's, but he felt his privacy had been invaded. He'd told Hannah absolutely everything, but he never suspected that it would spark the kind of curiosity she'd feel compelled to satiate.

Nothing worse than when those stupid Bellatrix Lestrange biographers came to interview them, he thought with a shudder, and the thought calmed him down. Hannah Abbott was too good for her own good; her intentions couldn't have been malicious.

"I needed to do some research," she bluntly replied, avoiding his gaze. "I wanted to play Violetta in Lost Days. Then again, your parents are sweet and not at all dangerous or annoying, unlike Violetta. Lockhart, though..." she half-laughed. "Anyway, yes. It was actually quite nice, and I'd like to go again."

Neville raised his eyebrows. It was just like Hannah to enjoy interacting with absolutely everyone, even with his permanently damaged parents.

Truth to be told, he would hardly call visiting his parents a 'nice' experience. They didn't recognize him, they had the mental capacity of three-year-old children, and he had yet to get used to idea that they would never get better. His grandmother had taught him to be blunt with himself and admit that his parents were, as he normally put it, permanently damaged.

They weren't crazy, they weren't idiots. If anything, they were insane, in the sense that they had their sanity stolen from them. They were brave people who had fought for everything they stood for, and Neville couldn't be more proud. True, he'd been ashamed of his parents at a younger age, for it was a difficult reality to understand. He'd learned to accept it because it was his reality, but he knew most people never would.

That didn't make it any less painful.

Then again, Hannah seemed to get it. She had gone through more tribulations than many people who were older and wiser. She was no longer a naive, vulnerable girl, and Neville knew that it took more than the permanent residents of St. Mungo's to overwhelm her.

Her mother's death had waken her up from the beautiful dream she'd lived in until she was seventeen. In their last year at Hogwarts, she'd had worked hard to prevent her fellow Hufflepuffs from suffering at the Carrows' hands, often taking their place in punishments.

I know I can take this, she would always say. But I don't know if they can, and I don't want to find out.

"Are you angry?" She asked, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I should've known you'd feel betrayed."

"I'm not angry," he assured her. "Just... surprised, I guess." He frowned, then looked at her. "Are you sure you want to come with me?"

"Of course I do!" Hannah probably noticed that he was still hesitant, because she added: "Trust me, it will go smoothly. Your father was a bit wary of me, but your mother warmed up to me quickly enough."

"She did? That's weird. She doesn't like strangers."

"Well, I smiled and gave her the sweets you told me she likes. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, wasn't it?" Neville nodded. "Well, that did the trick."

"Alright then. Just don't expect her to remember you."

"Stop worrying! Just drink that Butterbeer and let me do my thing." He laughed, and she smiled in return. "Look, my boss is giving me his death stare, so I have to go. My shift is over in an hour, so just wait for me and we'll go together."

Hannah's smile was warm - contagiously warm, and it made him feel humbled. Just the fact that Hannah remembered what kind of sweets his mother liked hinted at much more than 'research' or any artistic pursuit. She behaved as if she was trying to be there for him; trying to form a bigger part of his life. That clean, benign interest was something Neville had never experienced.

And he realized that, if there was someone he wanted to bring to his parents, that was Hannah Abbott.

"Wait, Hannah. I-I feel as..." as if I owe you something, he completed in his mind. She looked at him attentively, daring him to finish the sentence. "Just... let me invite you to lunch before we go, alright?"

"Sure!" Her smile grew wider. And as she left, Neville thought he'd heard her say, "I thought you'd never ask!"


Notes: I love Neville/Hannah. I think they're both so cool and badass!

This was written for: The 'Some Things Are Better Left Incomplete' Competition (Prompt: "I smiled and gave her the [blank]", Word: Potion and Character: Ernie Macmillan.) And for The Completely Randomized Competition (Character: Neville Longbottom. Genre: Family and Prompts: Betray, tribulation.)

Well, thanks for reading, everyone! I'll be very glad to hear from you.

-Karyn.