Disclaimer: J.K Rowling is the brilliant mind behind Harry Potter, I'm just borrowing the characters, etc.

Butterbeer Blues

Neville Longbottom stared dejectedly at the empty Butterbeer bottle that stood before him, wondering why life was so unfair.

'Could I get you another si- Oh, hello Neville!'

It took Neville a few moments to recognize the smiling barmaid.

'Hannah?'

She beamed, pleased that he had recognised her.

'Oh my! It's been ages! How are you!?'

'I'm well, and yourself?'

'Can't complain, it doesn't do any good,' he murmured, then perked up for her sake, 'So you work here at the Cauldron now?'

Hannah flushed and Neville, thinking she was embarrassed about it, began to stutter an apology, but before he could she corrected him, realising that he had misinterpreted her;

'Well, in a manner, I'm the owner.'

Neville's jaw dropped, 'You own The Leaky Cauldron?' Hannah nodded and Neville whistled.

'That's so cool!'

Hannah flushed, 'After school I had no idea what I wanted to do so when I heard that Tom wanted to retire I used my inheritance to buy the place. I've always liked this place, and after... you know... Well this place felt like home and I didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands.'

On impulse Neville reached forward and gave her hand a soft squeeze. Hannah's parents had been some of the first casualties in the Second Wizarding War and Neville was one of the few that knew how hard their deaths had hit her. She smiled gratefully.

'Can I get you another?' she repeated her earlier question and Neville nodded.

'I like what you did with the place,' Neville complimented her and she blushed beet red, stuttering a 'thanks' as she placed a fresh Butterbeer before him. Hannah had indeed improved the interior of the small inn, without changing it completely, and it still felt homey but the tables had been re-varnished, the chairs reupholstered in earthy colours and the walls had been stripped of the peeling wallpaper that had once adorned them, the bricks cleaned and hung with photographs, news articles (none of Rita Skeeter's though!) and portraits.

'What about you?' Hannah asked, breaking Neville from his thoughts, 'I heard that you're an Auror now.'

'Was,' Neville corrected her with a smile, 'I became tired of fighting so I resigned. I'm starting at Hogwarts in September as the Herbology Professor,' he puffed his chest out proudly and missed the disappointment that flashed across Hannah's face.

'Oh, so you're here to buy all your supplies?'

Neville deflated and sighed, shaking his head.

'Is everything alright?' Hannah asked, concerned.

'I had a bit of an argument with my Gran,' he told her, once again staring into the depths of his bottle.

Hannah bit her lip; she knew Neville well enough to know that he tended to close up if you pushed him but that he always felt better after pouring his heart out.

'Would... Would you like to talk about it?' she asked cautiously, hoping he wouldn't think she was being pushy.

Neville looked up at her and Hannah was a bit taken aback by the light that burned in his dark eyes.

'If you'll agree to join me for lunch?'

Hannah gaped at her old school friend, remembering the shy boy he had once been.

Neville's face fell, 'Nevermind, forget it.' He began to dig in his pockets for money, meaning to pay for his drinks, but Hannah stopped him in his tracks.

'I'd love to go out for lunch with you.'

'What? Really?'

Hannah giggled, 'Of Course! My usual barmaid should be here in a few minutes, we could go then if you'd like?'

Neville couldn't believe that she'd said yes, gaping at her, then slowly a grin curled his lips.

'Sure, that sounds great!'

Hannah turned away, smiling. She'd developed a crush Neville in their sixth year and she'd been hoping he'd ask her out since.

It seemed that some dreams came true after all.