Hannah struggled to see what she was packing through teary eyes. There had to be a mistake. Things this horrible didn't happen. Not to her. Not to her Mum…
Her Mum had promised in her last letter, that when she got home for the holidays they would have a day out. They would drop her brothers over at her Dad's house, and go see a film, or shop for clothes, or have lunch at a quiet café. Hannah would get hear in detail about how exactly Leon managed to get his head stuck between the monkey-bars at school (again), and about Noel's second prize in a drawing competition. Her mum had said she could wait to her about the wonderful things she was learning at Hogwarts. She told Hannah how proud she was of her. That she loved her.
No. Not Mum.
She tried wiping away the tears from her cheeks but more soon replaced them. She could hear the clock chime from the Hufflepuff common room. Professor Spout had told her to "be ready to leave in ten minutes", nine and a half minutes ago. She looked quickly around the room. She couldn't tell if she left anything behind but if she did Ernie would sent it to her. She snapped the locks on her suitcase and headed upward.
She pushed open the painting. Her eyes widened. Neville Longbottom was standing there, looking just as shocked, and far more embarrassed. He quickly shoved something behind his back.
'Neville?' she wiped her face on instinct. 'What… why are you here?'
Neville looked at his feet. 'Er… I'm… I'm sorry I thought… I thought you would still be packing. This isn't a good time. I'm sorry. I'll go.'
Neville moved to leave. Hannah caught a glimpse at something shudder behind his back.
'What's that?'
Neville looked panicked 'What?'
'There.' Hannah stepped into the corridor. 'Behind your back.'
Neville desperately looked around for an escape rout. None were to be found. Reluctantly he pulled out a bunch of flowers. Hannah's mouth fell open.
'I'm really sorry.' Neville pleaded as if he had gotten her grandmother in a pub brawl. 'I was just going to leave them here...'
Hannah took the flowers carefully from Neville. She flipped open the silver card tied to the stems with a pink ribbon. All that was written was To Hannah with sympathy.
Hannah opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
'The shimmering ones are Flutterby.' said Neville. His voice was softer. More confident now he was talking about plants. 'The stalks are Mellowsweet. That's what's probably giving it its perfume. Professor Firenze let me borrow those. The Puffapods look a bit odd now but they will look better once they fall…'
Hannah interrupted 'Why Neville?'
'What?' Neville shrank a little. 'Did I do something wrong.'
'No!' stopped Hannah. 'No no no no. This… This is… It's beautiful.'
Neville smiled softly. Hannah continued.
'It just… We don't really know each other. I mean, we're friendly and I think you're a nice guy and all… But why would you go to so much trouble?'
Neville's smile fell. He looked down at the bouquet in Hannah's hands.
'My parents. They were attacked by Death Eaters too. When I was a baby.'
Hannah couldn't help but gape. 'Neville! Oh Neville. I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were orphaned.'
Neville smiled again. This time it wasn't as soft as it was bitter.
'I'm not. My… my parents are at St. Mungo's. You see, the Death Eaters tortured them with crucio until... 'Neville paused. Hannah notice that he clenched his fist. 'They don't know me. They don't know anyone.'
A small lead ball sank inside Hannah's stomach. Things this horrible did happen. It just never struck her that they happened to people she knew. She saw Neville everyday but never once had she ever even thought about Neville's past. Come to think of it she had never really thought about Neville. Hannah began to realise that there was so much going on in this school that she never even thought of because she was wrapped up in her own little bubble. Hannah felt her cheaks flush with shame. Neville chipped away at the awkward silence.
'My Uncle once joked that they were already dead. They just hadn't realised yet, so they kept moving around.'
Hannah sucked her bottom lip. 'It's not a very funny joke.'
Neville nodded. 'I'm glad you agree.'
'Does… does anyone else know? About your parents being… about your parents?'
Neville scuffed his foot on the nearby wall. 'Some found out. Just this Christmas. They were good about it. But you're the only person here I've ever… well… told.'
Hannah stared at the card again. It should have said more than with sympathy. It was with sympathy and trust.
'I promise I won't tell anyone, Neville.'
His soft smile returned. 'It never even occurred to me you would. I just thought… you should know you weren't alone. That's all.'
Hannah looked at Neville. She had often thought of him as clumsy, or awkward or –she was embarrassed to admit- a bit of an oaf. But while she was stuck in her bubble he had taken the time to do this thing for her. A girl he hardly even knew.
She felt the tears start rolling down her cheeks again. She managed to choke out the words:
'Does it ever stop hurting, Neville? Will I ever feel good again?'
Neville looked up. His brows furrowed. It was the first time in the conversation he had looked Hannah in the eye.
'No. It never stops.'
Hannah looked at the ground. He shoulders shook. Neville took a step forward and wrapped his arms around them. He was careful not to crush the flowers between them.
'But it does hurt less. A little less more and more each day. And then one day you find you're feeling happy again. It's not that losing them doesn't still stab at you. It just that other things in this world make you feel good. And that's okay. That's how they would want it.'
Hannah wrapped her arms around his middle, letting the flowers fall on the corridor floor. They hung there for a while before he let go. He gave her that soft smile again for the final time.
'I promise. Trust me.'
'Miss Abbot!' called Professor Spout from up the corridor. Hannah turned to look at her Herbology teacher 'Miss Abbot! We need to leave now!'
Hannah turned back to Neville. He was already walking down the corridor. He didn't look back. Hannah knelt down and picked up the bouquet of flowers. The Mellowsweet smelt like honey and spring.
