A/N: Two stories in one day. Well, I wrote this fairly quick, but I wanted to try out Hannah and Neville. I'm currently writing my next chapter to Stand as well.
Words: 631.
Parings: Neville Longbottem and Hannah Abbott.
Date Written On: October 15, 2011.
Neville Longbottem.
Wasn't that all you were? An unfortunate, clumsy, overweight little boy who lived with his frightening grandmother and always lost his toad? The one everyone looked down upon?
But you weren't to her.
Not to Hannah Abbott.
To her you were amazingly brave, just as Dumbledore had said in first year. You fought in the Battle of Hogwarts and had saved her and her best friends, though they had hardly ever talked to you, except in Herbology. She had always been grateful and would shyly admit she had always had a hovering crush on you. That's why she sought after you when the battle had ended.
You two started off as friends—an occasional drink at the pub or maybe a visit to your mum and dad (you trusted her enough, and she trusted you as well; her parents had been killed, your's were in St. Mungo's since they were driven to insanity)—but then something happened.
It was only a few years after the war ended, and Hannah had gotten a job as the landlady Leaky Cauldron. You visited as much as you can, staying long after the pub closed.
One night, though, a man—you don't remember who, but he seemed too old for one of your former classmates—had gotten drunk enough to begin flirting with Hannah. She ignored his loud cat calls when she served other patrons, but you were getting exceedingly annoyed when he started calling her obscene names that you wouldn't dare calling a women in public.
You didn't act on it until he uncaringly grabbed her arse, causing her to stumble back in surprise. You had stood up, a head taller than the drunk man, and told him he'd better leave. With the blunt reply of "But the little lass and I have some business to take care of" and a wink of the eye towards Hannah, who in turn gagged, the man tried to walk past you to her.
Grabbing his arm, you walked him towards the door, telling him to leave or else. When he pushed you further, you lost all control and punched him, making him tumble back onto the snowy ground, grabbing his nose and groaning. The man got up and ran into an alley way, running into a few waste cans in the process.
A few months later, Hannah and yourself were in a relationship.
The first people you had told had been Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Luna, considering all four of you got together once a month at Hermione and Ron's flat to have a large dinner. Sometimes Ginny tagged a long, but the time you had told them all about Hannah, she had practice for a Quidditch game.
They were all happy for you, and you were excited to see they approved, but when you and Luna walked out that night, she had said in her usual dream-like voice, "Be happy, Neville. Always be happy. Oh, and by the way, I've met someone. Rolf Scamander."
You were just as happy for her as she was for you.
And two years after Hannah and yourself had gotten into a relationship, you had gotten married, and moved in above the pub.
You were the Herbology teacher at Hogwarts by that time, and all your kids thought you were the "coolest teacher ever" because you lived above a pub with your wife.
But now you were expecting your second child, and maybe you aren't Neville Longbottem, the unfortunate, clumsy, overweight little boy who lived with his frightening grandmother and always lost his toad.
Maybe you were Neville Longbottem, the lucky, not as clumsy, thinner grown man who lived with his wife and little daughter, currently waiting for another little girl to arrive, and worked at Hogwarts. The one people looked up to.