Hannah was, in fact, behind the bar, and the smile she gave him when they walked in almost made him trip over the doorstep. Doesn't help that she's even prettier than she was fifth year..."Neville! Harry! Good to see you both. Neville, have you gotten a chance to recruit him for our plans?"

"That sounds ominous," Harry looked sideways at Neville. "What are you two planning?"

"All of Hufflepuff House, actually, plus me and I hope you for Gryffindor." He explained the idea for the all-House parties, and Harry lit up. Poor guy, he really is bored and lonely.

"That sounds great! I'd love to help. And Neville's right, Gryffindor should take the next round."

"But then why would you help with Hufflepuff's?" Hannah raised her eyebrows.

Because I want an excuse to spend time with you. And to see that anti-gravity tree. Well, the last was an excuse he could speak aloud. "Isn't that the whole point of this, inter-House cooperation? Plus, you promised me a look at the plants in the Puff Common Room." He grinned at her. "And more seriously, because this isn't Gryffindor's area of strength the way it is yours, and we'd like to learn from you. The better we can make the first two parties, the more likely the other two houses are to put their hearts into it, too."

"Goodness knows we spend enough time last year learning from you. We owe you, I guess." Her eyes twinkled at him. "In any case, I suspect you two are here for dinner, not party planning - and there's shepherd's pie fresh out of the oven, and chicken curry from the recipe Padma gave me, plus a lovely mushroom/nut stew if you want the vegetarian option..."

"I'll have shepherd's pie, thanks." Harry had never been interested in the vegetarian option.

"Same for me, please, and two Butterbeers." Hannah gave him another smile, setting his heart racing again, as she drew the Butterbeers and headed for the kitchen to get the food.

"Oh, and I'm buying, Harry."

"No you're not, I've got funds."

"I know you do, but you bought last time. My turn."

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. Not as if either of us needs to worry about money, after all."

"This is true." The Longbottom family wasn't exactly as rich as the Potters or Blacks whose combined fortunes Harry was heir to, but they'd been landed gentry for longer than the Muggle historians knew. Neville had come into a very comfortable legacy on reaching adulthood, in addition to his Auror's salary. He didn't actually need the job, in fact, but he rather liked being useful.

"Hey sweetie, I'll pay if you let me sit on your lap..." came from behind him, in an oversweetened coo.

He turned, startled, to find a dark-haired Ravenclaw girl, posed so as to show off the maximum possible cleavage, giving him what she clearly believed to be a sultry look. Turning bright red, he managed, "No, thank you. Please, we're having a private dinner here..."

She pouted, disappointed. "Maybe next time, cutie-pie. Send me an owl, willya?" She dropped a piece of paper coyly onto his lap, no doubt with her address on it, and walked off, waving to him over her shoulder with a flirtatious smile.

He rolled his eyes at Harry, who was laughing at him across the table, as he crumpled up the paper and pushed it to the side of the table. "Cut it out, would you? I bet you get enough of that too, Mr. Chosen One, Quidditch Hero, and Defeater of Dark Lords."

"I have a redheaded girlfriend known far and wide for her temper and her Bat-Bogey Hex. Comes in very handy sometime."

"I envy you. Not Ginny specifically," he hastened to add, "I love her like the sister I never had."

"I know. She refers to you as her 'least annoying brother.'"

Neville laughed out loud. "I don't think that's saying much. Don't tell Ron I said that."

"He knows, he knows."

Hannah came back with two full plates of food, which were giving off an aroma that made Neville's stomach growl. "Thanks," he said, smiling up at her as she put one in front of him. "That looks wonderful."

"You're welcome. Hope it tastes good, too." She rested an affectionate hand on his shoulder for a minute.

Harry was already several bites into his pie. He looked up at Hannah with eyes approaching worship. Between swallows, he informed her, "This is as good as Mrs. Weasley's."

"I'll take that as high praise."

"Mm-hmmph," was his emphatic response, along with a vigorous nod.

Neville took a bite himself, savoring the rich meaty gravy. "He's right, this is incredible."

Her dimples showed again. "Mum's recipe. We used to make it together when I was small. One of the best memories I have of her."

"She'd be awfully proud of you, Hannah, running your own business and all." Neville gave her a sympathetic glance, understanding perfectly well how much she missed her mother.

"Not quite there yet - I'm still paying Tom off. But I'm taking over more and more of it. Speaking of which, I'd better go see to my other customers, but before I do, we've got a planning meeting for the party on Saturday at 1 PM - can you make it?"

"Fine by me. I'm going to see my parents in the morning, as usual, but I've got the afternoon free." He looked inquiringly at Harry, who nodded.

"Great! See you then. Meet me by the Hogwarts kitchens, we'll show you into the Common Room." Neville's eyes followed her across the pub, and he sighed to himself. I am such an idiot. Any number of girls who are totally enthralled with the famous war hero, and the only one I want is the one who still sees me as her awkward Herbology tutor.

Luckily, Harry was oblivious as usual, and most of the way through his shepherd's pie to boot. "I guess you were hungry, Harry?" he teased.

"Sorry." He looked up, ruefully. "Old habits. I had to eat fast, at the Dursleys', to get enough before Dudley snatched whatever it was."

"I'd say you were raised by wolves, but wolves are kinder to their cubs." Neville shook his head angrily. "My relatives may have tried to drown me and drop me out of second-story windows - mind you, that was just Uncle Algie and he was a bit eccentric. he never meant any harm - but at least they never starved me."

Harry shrugged. "Dudley did grow up, eventually. I got a letter from him, the other day, in fact. Nothing huge, just a note telling me they were all safe and had survived the war, and hoping I was the same. But it was something, coming from him. He's not a bad guy, at heart, I don't think. He just got spoiled growing up, which wasn't his fault."

"You've got a kind heart, Harry. I don't know if I could forgive them, if I were you."

"Yeah, well, they can't hurt me anymore." He shrugged again, and changed the subject.

After dinner, Harry headed back home, saying he ought to get some sleep before another strenuous day of Auror training. Neville, meanwhile, took a deep breath and went to ask Hannah a question that'd been on his mind all evening.

"Um, Hannah? I was wondering...Gran wants to go traveling for a while, and the house is kind of big and clunky for one person to rattle around in all by myself, and I'd kind of like to live nearer work and especially St. Mungo's, since you can't really Floo to St. Mungo's - so, um, are there any rooms available to rent in the Cauldron?" He ran his fingers through his hair, aware he was prattling on like an idiot.

She brightened. "Yes, we've got a set of rooms free. Want to see?"

He nodded, and she led him upstairs.

"Here we go. This is the nicest one available - the windows even open on the front garden, see?'

It was, indeed, a lovely suite - a bedroom with a sizable canopied bed, a wardrobe, armchair, and private bathroom, opening on to a pleasant-looking living room furnished with comfortable chairs and a couch enclosing a carved wooden table, a cozy-looking fireplace, and a desk set perfectly positioned to make the most of the light coming in through the wide windows. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, empty at the moment but quite sturdy in appearance, obviously just right for Neville's collection of heavy Herbology texts (and, admittedly, his no-less-treasured collection of old cozy mysteries).

"This is perfect. What's the rent?"

She named a figure he found quite reasonable, especially when she said, "That comes with meals, too, at least breakfast and dinner."

"Good, because I never really learned to cook."

"You didn't?" The surprise in her voice suggested he might as well have said he never learned how to read, or dress himself.

"Great-Aunt Enid was sweet, but she had really old-fashioned ideas about males in the kitchen, and when she died, well, Gran just never really bothered to teach me. Honestly, she's not the world's best cook herself, either- we ate a lot of sandwiches and tinned soup when I was younger. And then I went to Hogwarts, where the house-elves do all of it, so there never seemed to be much opportunity."

"I'll teach you, if you like." The words came out quickly, impulsively, and she might have been blushing, but it was difficult to tell in the dim evening light.

"I'd love that, but do you have time? I mean, with studying and running a business and all?"

"If you have time, I do. We're closed Sunday, and I can't study all day...Sunday afternoon?"

"That works for me. But seriously, you'd give up your free afternoon to do the same thing you do all week?"

"It's different cooking with someone else. Much more fun. It'll be just the break I need from my textbooks. And I'd have to cook dinner anyway - this way I'll have someone to eat it with."

"In that case, yeah, I'd like that. Thank you." He knew he was grinning foolishly, but there didn't seem to be any way to stop. A lesson and dinner with her? Every week? I can live with that.

"Anytime." The way she was smiling at him made him think he'd never have trouble casting a Patronus again. They stood looking at each other for a minute or so, leaving him mildly breathless, until she ducked her head, embarrassed, breaking the spell. "So when would you like to move in?"

"Probably tomorrow evening. I'll bring over the first quarter's rent after work. I don't have that much stuff, and I can move the books and plants over bit by bit as I go. And I suspect Gran wants to be free of having to worry about me as soon as possible. She's done twice her share of child-rearing, and it's about time she got to retire."

Hannah laughed. "She'll always worry about you, you know. It's what parents and grandparents do."

"But at least she can worry about me from a nice cabana on the French Riviera or something."

"That sounds fair," she said judiciously.

Indeed, Gran seemed relieved when he told her his plans that night. "I'm glad you've found a livelier place to live, Neville. A young man shouldn't be all alone in a hulking great place like this, with no one but the family ghosts for company. And I hear the new landlady is a very pretty young woman indeed." Her eyes twinkled at him.

"It's Hannah, Gran, Hannah Abbott whom I used to tutor in Herbology. She's known me for ages. Don't go marrying us off just yet, please." He was aware that he was blushing.

"Don't wait too long, lad. The wizarding population is in serious trouble, after the last war. We need babies, and we need them soon."

"She's a friend, not a brood mare. I'll get married and have kids when the time is right, I promise. It's not that I don't want to, after all. Eventually, that is."

"Well, well. Just make sure she's a girl with some sense. Like your mother. Do not bring home one of those flighty gigglers who only want to say they've slept with a war hero, please. I don't require the headache."

He laughed. "No chance of that, Gran. I like intelligent women."

"See that you do."