A/N: On the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum, the following challenge (I'm paraphrasing!) was posted by Aieika: Write a chapter or drabble featuring a pair that is _. Aieika provided a list of characteristics to fill in that blank, such as Chivalrous, Smug, Awkward, You Personal Favorite, etc. Her challenge was to write a chapter for each of her descriptive words. The same character can be used in multiple fics, but the pairings can only be used once. For a full list of rules, copy and paste this link (http : / forum . fanfiction . net / topic / 44309 / 32103413 / 1 / #37012990) into your browser; you'll have to remove the spaces, as is picky about posting URLs.

I encourage everyone to join the fun! Fic challenges are a great way to overcome writer's block (which is what I will primarily use this challenge for during bouts of block) and work on your writing skills. You may not wish to join this particular challenge, but if you see a descriptive word that instantly makes you think of a pairing you would like me to write, send me a PM and I'll work on it!

Actually, just check out the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum. There are tons of great challenges for anyone who's interested!

This fic will be canon based, but slightly different. For instance, I realize Hannah was initially informed of her mother's passing during a Herbology class, but I've tweaked that a little. Nothing too big, but I thought I would warn you.

Title: Till Death Do Us Part

Theme: 1 – Awkward

My Chosen Pairing: Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott

Rating: Teen – minor suggestive themes

Summary: In school, Neville and Hannah each experience their fair share of teasing for their chubby features and bookish tendencies. Drawing from their odd experiences together throughout Hogwarts and the Second Wizarding War, the two building a strong relationship that finally reaches the alter. As they share their first dance together as a married couple, they reminisce about the awkward times they shared growing together.

To many cheers and hollers (the latter coming particularly from the Weasley twins), Neville took a gentle hold on his new wife's hand and helped her from her chair. Together, they walked to the center of the dark hardwood floor and turned to face one another. With a small smile, Neville reached to take her waist with his other hand as Hannah settled her hand comfortably on his shoulder. She felt her bangs tickle across her forehead as Neville exhaled deeply.

She giggled. "Don't worry. We've practiced enough to dance in our sleep."

Neville lifted his eyes from his feet and looked at his pretty wife. "I know. Dancing still makes me nervous. I don't want to, you know, step on your toes or anything."

"My toes will be just fine," she assured him quietly, allowing him to lead her slowly to the newest release from Muggle artist Norah Jones. Come Away With Me played soothingly across the speakers as they followed each other's cautious movements.

Catching Neville's eye, Hannah laughed quietly. "This reminds me of our Fourth Year – at the Yule Ball. Do you remember?"

Neville groaned quietly; his slightly upturned mouth gave away his amusement at his own embarrassment, however. "Don't remind me."

Neville ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. He had done his duty in dancing with Ginny, who was admittedly a fabulous dancer. He was quite certain, however, her toes were swelling, and when he had offered that they take a break, he was not surprised to hear the gratitude in her voice. Leaving Ginny in the hands of Hermione, Neville traversed the room to find a friend to keep him company. He observed all of the students he passed, genuinely surprised by how nice so many of his classmates looked.

In his wandering of the room, Neville had, unsurprisingly, stopped watching his feet. When he ran headlong into another individual, it was instinctual to reach out to steady them. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

In his hands, Hannah Abbott shook her head, her eyes as wide as a doe in the streetlights. She looked confused to find herself steadied by Neville. When she recognized him, she smiled shyly. "Hello, Neville."

Neville blinked again. This was Hannah? The Hannah that generally wandered the halls of Hogwarts, with her nose in a book and hair tied in a bun? Frequently with ink smudged on her nose? The Hannah who he had watched explode several cauldrons in Potions and trip over her robes as she trekked to Herbology? He found himself genuinely stunned.

"You—you look. Um. You look nice, Hannah."

"Thanks," she mumbled, extracting herself from his hands. "You do, too."

The pair fell into silence. Neville was still shocked to see such a Cinderella – the normally bulky Hogwarts robes had never played well to Hannah's figure, and it was only now, in a fitted pink dress, Neville could see her wide hips fit her quite well. Her hips were curvaceous, but her waist was small and her skin was positively radiant. Blond hair fell like a waterfall over her shoulders, and the cutest blush adorned her cheeks. Her noticed her cheeks, which he had always assumed to be chubby like his own, were not chubby in any way; they were just naturally round.

After a minute, Neville realized he had been staring. He coughed into the air.

"You wouldn't want to dance? With me?"

Hannah, who had been studying his polished shoes, looked up in surprised. Neville instantly backed down.

"Of course, you don't have to. I'm sure you have a date. I'll just, um, I'll let you go."

Neville turned to high tail it back to Ginny's side when the strangest voice called his name. "Neville! Wait! I would like that."

Neville turned back to face her. "Really? I mean, cool. I mean, great."

Hannah smiled gently as he made a path for them to the very edge of the dance floor. Trying hard not to draw attention from any other swaying couple, the two stood before each other with hesitant looks. Neville eventually extended his hand, to which Hannah slowly accepted and they stepped together, making certain to maintain a distance between themselves.

There weren't any words to be shared - merely two teenagers enjoying a rare moment of peace in an otherwise tumultuous society. The peace, of course, was short lived. Soon, Neville had tread on Hannah's toes similarly to how he had with Ginny.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he muttered, fixing his eyes on her left ear as he apologized. "I'm rubbish at this."

"Me too," Hannah whispered, watching her feet as she moved, trying not to fall over. "You're really not bad. At dancing, I mean."

"Oh." Neville laughed to fill the silence. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Hannah offered quietly. The two shared a small smile uninterrupted by any outside annoyance.

Until Neville stepped on her toes again.

Neville laughed again at the memory. "Actually, I surely hope this doesn't remind you of that dance."

Hannah laughed, as well. "I liked that dance. Even if my toes matched my nail polish when it was done."

"Do you remember the conversation we had in sixth year?" Neville grinned, teasing her back. "The one where you said—"

"Oh, Neville!" Hannah squealed, losing her footing as she stepped on the slick floor. Luckily, Neville was able to steady her in his arms. "Don't you dare!"

Hannah tumbled off of the staircase to the Headmaster's office with as much grace as a newborn calf. Sniffing and wiping the back of her hand across her nose, she hurried with her head down toward the only place in Hogwarts she ever felt truly at ease. It took her ten minutes of walking and avoiding hellos, but she finally reached the crisp outside air. Taking a deep breath, she continued her journey to the greenhouses, thanking the stars that no one would be visiting at this time in the afternoon.

Checking the moon in the sky to gauge the time, Hannah ducked inside Greenhouse Number Five and closed the door gently behind her. The exotic smells of the flowers and plants had always comforted her. She crossed half of the room before sinking down to sit in a pile of dirt, her robes cushioning her back against the glass wall. She curled her knees to her chest and promptly began to tear up again.

Lost in her own troubles and tears, Hannah didn't hear the door open. It wasn't until someone directly in front of her gasped that she realized the greenhouse had another guest at all. Locking eyes with Neville Longbottom, the two Sixth Year students held each other's gaze for a long moment before Hannah gathered the courage to say something.

She sniffled. "What are you doing here, Neville?"

"I came to check on a project," he mumbled quietly. "Are you okay, Hannah?"

"Yes." She sniffled again. "It's just—just allergies."

Neville lifted an eyebrow. When she burst back into a fresh wave of tears, he quickly scrambled into the dirt beside her and reached for her chilled hand. "Hannah? Hannah, what's wrong?"

Hannah cried for another several minutes before her sobs finally stilled. Wiping her nose on Neville's offered handkerchief, she sighed deeply. "My—my mum. She's dead."

Neville stifled a gasp beside her. "Oh, Hannah. I'm sorry."

"It was Voldemort." Hannah offered into the darkness. "His Death Eaters. When she didn't come to work, her secretary came to see if she was ill. She found her in our home."

"Hannah," Neville whispered slowly. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't know if I'll be allowed to stay here," Hannah whispered in return, voicing her fear for the first time aloud. "My family will be scared. I'm scared."

"I know." Neville ran his thumb over the back of her hand in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "I'm scared, too. My gran's living alone now. My family's denied Voldemort before, and I'm scared what will happen if they come for her."

Hannah was quiet for a while as she and Neville silently pondered the shaky fates of their family's and friends. When the moon had risen higher in the sky, bathing them both in a gentle light, Hannah cleared her throat. "Neville? What happened to…" Hannah trailed off. She had to force a breath into her lungs before continuing. "What happened to your parents?"

Neville glared at the floor. Anger was never an emotion Hannah had seen so clearly painted onto a person before, and she nearly drew back her question. But he picked his head up to answer nonetheless. "They're still alive. They're at St. Mungo's now, though."

Neville couldn't stop once he started. He spilled the entire story to Hannah on the greenhouse floor, talking in detail of the torture inflicted by Bellatrix and her co-workers, and Bellatrix's eventual torture of him in the Department of Mysteries. He couldn't still his words; they simple flowed from his mouth, pent up after years of keeping his secrets.

"I know she wants to kill me," Neville spoke quietly. "I could see it in her eyes in the Department of Mysteries. She's so twisted. I'm scared to know she's escaped; I'm scared for my gran; I'm worried about the state of the Ministry itself, and the state of the school. We don't seem as safe anymore. There's also schoolwork. But I can't complain about it; I have to put on a brave face for the younger students; Gran wouldn't tolerate my fears; I want my parents to be proud. Sometimes, it just feels as if the entire, gruesome package has been dumped onto me."

Hannah squeezed his hand gently. "I understand. It's hard now. If you ever need anything, Neville, I can help you handle your package."

Hannah had just shut her mouth when the sentence reached her own ears. She gasped in shock, putting her free hand over her mouth and looking at Neville with wide eyes. "Wait! That's not what I mean! About your package! I mean, not about—oh, dear…"

Hannah laughed, resisting the urge to hit her husband on the arm. "I can't believe you. It was a genuine mistake. You know I didn't mean it like that!"

Neville clucked his tongue. "Age sixteen, and you were already offering to handle my package."

That time, Hannah really did hit him on the arm.

She stuck her tongue out at him as they moved. By this point, other couples had joined them on the dance floor. The two newlyweds, though, only had eyes for each other.

Neville laughed loudly again. When he looked at Hannah, who had her eyebrow raised, he wiggled his eyebrows in response. "Oh, or what about the time in the Room of Requirements?"

Hannah groaned in response.

"Here, Hannah. This room's really magical, isn't it? All I had to do was ask." With a smile, Hermione handed a white cotton t-shirt to Hannah, who accepted it gratefully.

"Thanks, Hermione," Hannah offered. "I don't want to walk back in this one. If Umbridge saw me, I'm sure she would notice the singe marks. She would ask so many questions, and I don't think I'm a good liar."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione answered in kind. "We're just before curfew. If she sees you, tell her you're coming back from the library. Would you like me to walk with you?"

"No thanks." Hannah shook her head. "Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are miles apart. As long as you say the coast is clear, I believe you."

Hermione took once last look at Harry's map in her hands. She nodded her head in confirmation. "Umbridge is speaking with McGonagall in the break room. Wonder what that's all about. If you leave in the next few minutes, you'll be just fine."

"Thanks, Hermione." Hannah waved as Hermione folded up that map and exited the Room of Requirements, leaving Hannah on her own.

With a quick, unnecessary glance behind her, Hannah peeled her current shirt off over her head. Holding it in her hands, she fingered over the large singe marks near the bottom. Dumbledore's Army had been practicing a nifty binding charm that Hermione had read about, but Justin Finch-Fletchley had somehow ignited her blouse instead of binding her with invisible ropes. He proceeded to promptly douse her in water. Not only was her shirt burned, but her hair was still a bit damp, too.

Sighing, Hannah dropped the shirt to the floor. She had liked that shirt. She was in the midst of unfolding the new shirt the room had provided when someone threw open the door. Bathed in the light from the hall, Neville Longbottom froze in the doorway when he caught sight of her.

Hannah's eyes widened as she stared back at her classmate. What was he doing here?

It took each of them several moments to react. Neville stuttered, intent on apologizing for bursting in on her in her intimates, but the only words that spilled off his tongue were, "N-nice snitches," indicating the patterning of her undergarment.

Hannah smiled up at him. "I can't believe you complimented that bra. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Neville mumbled, pulling his wife closer as the song continued quietly. "I meant to apologize and leave, but it just happened!"

"Sneaking peaks at me, Longbottom, how utterly rude," she admonished.

Neville grinned. "You were pretty. I couldn't help myself."

Hannah snorted delicately into his shoulder where she rested her head. "Alright, funny guy, what about when you finally bucked up the courage to ask me on a date?"

Neville chuckled. "That wasn't so much courage as another trip of my tongue."

Neville stormed after Hannah as she rushed out of the Great Hall. Her robes flowed behind her as she tried to stomp away from him, but he wouldn't let her go so easily. "I can't believe you would say something like that to Ginny!"

Hannah harrumphed ahead loudly enough for him to hear. "I was simply enjoying my breakfast! There was no reason for her to so delicately lay her cleavage out all over it."

"She can wear whatever she wants!"

The two students had been at each other's throats for the past several days, but Neville couldn't figure out why. Nothing had changed in their relationship, but the day he returned from escorting Parvati Patil to Hogsmeade, Hannah had thrown him an absolutely withering look in the entrance hall. He had been bewildered, not at all aware of having wronged her. In the following days, they had not shared one kind word between them, as Hannah had been in an atrocious mood, in Neville's opinion.

"Oh, yes, defend that skimpy piece of cloth she calls a shirt," Hannah griped, hanging a left at the statue of Gregory the Gregarious. "I'm sure you and the rest of the boys loved it."

"Even if it is too much, you could have told her more nicely! She's supposed to be your friend!" Neville bit back, hurrying after her, his heavy breaths escaping him as they nearly jogged. He growled slightly as he followed her to a staircase. "Although, your definition of friend has always been a bit off, hasn't it? You didn't even support Harry in our Fourth Year! You wore one of those awful Cedric badges!"

"Because Cedric was my friend!" Hannah yelled in response, spinning around on her stair to glare at him. Her glare was not as pronounced as she might have liked, however, as she promptly lost her footing and began to tumble down the stairs.

Out of reflex, Neville reached out to catch her as she began to fall. Holding her in his arms, tightly against his chest, he completely forgot what he had been yelling about the moment before. Hannah took a shocked breath in his arms, steadying herself against him. It seemed words had failed her, too.

Neville watched her as her anger dissipated. Her eyebrows un-knitted and a rosy blush rose up to her cheeks. She shut her eyes, mumbling something he didn't quite catch.

It took him three full tries, but he finally found his tongue. "Hannah? Hogsmeade? Would you like to go to Hogsmeade? With me?"

Neville ran a comforting hand along her spine as they drew closer, the guests and partying fading far into the background. "You always did have a way of falling all over yourself."

Hannah smiled into his neck. "And you always had a way with words."

The newlywed drew back to look at one another, each smiling gently as they pondered their future together as husband and wife. Neville was ready to catch Hannah at every trip and tumble, and Hannah was ready to decipher Neville's stuttered words of adoration whenever the situation dictated it. Together, they were ready to face every awkward moment, hand in hand, with no trepidation.

Neville reached up to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I love you, Hannah."

She wrapped her arms around him more tightly, dancing for the first time without thinking of her feet. "And I love you, Neville."