Charring Cross Road was flooded with bright summery sunshine as Neville trudged down the Muggle street, his bag draped over his shoulder and his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. It was a warm Sunday in London and he had only Apparated halfway from St. Mungo's so he could take advantage of the good weather. It was now nearing suppertime and even from the end of the road he could see a fairly steady stream of people coming from and going to the Leaky Cauldron. A Muggle woman across the street kept shooting bemused glances at the robed figures who seemed to be appearing from nowhere, before shaking her head and walking very quickly away, muttering to herself.

Grinning, Neville stepped up to the door to the Leaky Cauldron, and then quickly sidestepped to avoid colliding with a tiny wizard carrying so many parcels his face was hidden from view. Once the little wizard had passed, Neville slipped into the pub and his eyes eagerly sought out the familiar blonde head.

"Hiya, Neville," said that bright voice and he spotted her handing out drinks at a table near the corner.

"Hey, Hannah," he said in return and moved around the room to wait for her at the bar. When she had finished with the drinks, she joined him and they exchanged their customary greeting. "Busy day, huh?" he asked, glancing around at the crowded room.

"Day before term always is," said Hannah, sighing and ducking behind the counter to grab another bottle of firewhiskey. "Everyone and their last minute shopping." Shaking her head, she wandered down to the end of the bar to refill a wizard's glass. Without hesitation, Neville walked over to a table of middle-aged witches and asked if he could help them. He had spent enough time helping out in the inn during the summertime that he was quite comfortable with it.

"A round of butterbeers," said a dark-haired witch brightly. She seemed to be eyeing him in a very eager way and Neville tried not to blush. He could feel her eyes on him the whole way back to the bar, and she was smiling as he returned and handed out the drinks. "Thanks, darling," the dark-haired witch cooed.

Neville grinned nervously and hurried back to the bar. Hannah looked up from filling out a ledger and smiled. "It seems like Rodenia fancies you," she remarked lightly but there was something teasing in her eyes. Neville glanced again at the table of witches and blushed to see the older woman still staring at him over the rim of her drink. Hannah followed his gaze and chuckled. "She'll be rather sorry to hear you're taken, won't she?" she asked and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Feeling much better, Neville went back to helping out and when nine o'clock came the tavern had mostly emptied. They set about cleaning the room so they could retire into Hannah's flat. Neville polished the bar and looked over at Hannah, who was cleaning glasses on the other side. It occurred to him that this was almost exactly how they had first seen each other again, exactly one year ago.

Hannah looked much like she had that day. Her blonde hair, now slightly shorter, was still swept up into its customary, messy knot, and her eyes were as warm and comforting. Yet there was something in her gaze that seemed brighter and in her smile that seemed more genuine, and Neville found himself hoping that maybe he had been the one to put it there. He knew that his widened smile certainly came from her.

"What a day," said Hannah and she came to lean against the bar opposite him. "The day before term begins is nearly as bad as a holiday." Although she was still casual, Neville could see a familiar sadness that lit in her eyes every time she mentioned the beginning of term. Neville reached over to lay his hand on top of hers and she smiled, squeezing his fingers. "I cannot believe that the term has started again already. I will miss you being around so much."

"I'll still come to visit every time I can, you know that," said Neville assuredly. "Just like I did all last year. You'll be sick of me hanging around soon enough, don't you worry."

Hannah laughed and shook her head. "I find that doubtful," she said confidently. She walked around the bar and sat down on the stool next to him, intertwining their hands. "It seems so strange to think it was just a year ago, doesn't it?"

"A year ago today," agreed Neville. "A year ago when I came stumbling in here and sat down to wait for the fireplace to be free, and never expected anything amazing to happen."

Hannah blushed but continued calmly. "You ordered a butterbeer, and when I turned around I couldn't believe it was you. I hadn't seen you since we left school. You look so different, you know. Of course our last year we all looked rather awful, with everything that happened, so it's a good thing that we've changed really." She paused and her eyes scanned the narrow scars that stretched across his face.

"I hardly recognized you too," said Neville, smiling. "I gaped at you like an idiot for a while before it finally clicked." Hannah giggled, squeezing his hands again. Neville let his eyes drift over the now familiar details of her face, from the almost invisible scar beneath her lip to the band of pale freckles that crossed her nose. "You are beautiful."

"So you tell me," said Hannah modestly, even though her cheeks had darkened again. "Quite often."

Smiling, Neville picked up the thread again. "We stayed up half the night talking," he said. "About everything; school, work, our families, our friends. It was amazing. I had never felt so comfortable talking to someone before."

"I hugged you as you left and you looked so surprised," said Hannah with a laugh.

"Well it was so fast," he pointed out defensively. "It took a second to even figure out what had happened, you were so quick about it."

"I was afraid when you left that you wouldn't really come back," confessed Hannah and Neville's eyes widened. She'd never told him this before. "I knew you were busy and likely wouldn't have time to come back just for a chat, but for days I was glancing over at the fireplace every time someone Flooed in, hoping it was you. I had almost given up hope when you finally showed up."

"The first week of term is a nightmare," said Neville. "Especially for Head of Houses. I had planned to visit twice before I made it, but I got trapped with one thing or another. And I was afraid that maybe your invitation had just been politeness, and that you weren't really expecting me to come." He paused thoughtfully, remembering the nerves he'd felt the first time he'd Flooed back to London, and he realized they were nothing compared to the fluttery feeling in his stomach now. "In the end though, I figured it was a risk worth taking. I hadn't been able to get you out of my head the whole week."

Hannah smiled and they sat in a warm, comfortable silence. "When did you fall in love with me?" she asked abruptly.

Neville opened his mouth before realizing he wasn't quite sure of the answer. "I don't really know," he admitted. "I first realized it that night we were sitting in your flat trading cards."

"Eating our way through all those Chocolate Frogs," Hannah put in, grinning broadly.

"That's the one," said Neville with a nod. "But when I started thinking about it, trying to figure out when it had happened, I couldn't tell. I tried to think back to a time when I hadn't felt that way and I couldn't." He blushed scarlet, but pressed on bravely. "The way I felt for you, it felt so natural and right that I was sure it must have been there all along."

If he had thought Hannah was smiling before, it was nothing compared to the dazzling look she had now. It was as if the sun had risen behind her face, turning her cheeks bright rose and making her eyes sparkle like stars. Feeling warmth rushing through his veins, as if the brightness of her face had sparked a fire in his gut, Neville took a deep breath.

"Hannah," he started and grimaced as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "The truth is, I think I might have been in love with you that very first day and I just didn't know it. When I think about it now, I can't imagine you ever not being there by me. I know that it'll be difficult, with both of our works being so demanding, but I want to do everything to make it work because it's worth it to feel like this for the rest of my life. I lo – oh bloody hell!"

Neville had tried to slip the ring from his pocket, but his sweaty fingers had fumbled and the ring fell to the floor, clinking brightly as it bounced before settling on the wood. Quickly, his face and neck burning worse than ever before, he knelt down and picked it up. Staying on his knees, he looked up at Hannah's awe-struck face.

"I love you, Hannah, and I want to be with you the rest of my life," he said, and the truthfulness of it lent his voice enough confidence to not tremble even though he was shaking nervously. He held out the ring between his thumb and forefinger, the diamond blinked in the lamplight. "Will you marry me?"

Hannah stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth half-opened in shock, and her hands came up to cover her mouth before they slipped down to hover in front of her collar, as if she was too surprised to hold them in place. For a moment Neville felt a bout of nerves sweep through him and nausea rose in his stomach. Had he judged her feelings wrong? Had he said something wrong? He knew some of it had been a bit cliché but he didn't think it was that bad. Maybe he had done it too soon. They had only been seeing each other a year. Did people generally wait longer than that? Why hadn't he asked one of his mates for advice on things like this? Or had it been bad timing? It might have been a horrible idea asking for her hand the day before he left to go back to Hogwarts for ten months. The idea of their one year anniversary had seemed like a good choice at first, but now he thought maybe it had been foolish.

Then suddenly Hannah's eyes were bright with tears and her face split into a bright smile. "Yes," she said, her voice thick and shaking but confident. She nodded vigorously. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Now it was Neville's turn to gape in surprise. There was a rise of heat in his stomach and he suddenly felt as though his limbs had been electrocuted. He had just proposed, and she had said yes. A bemused smile cut across Neville's face as he met her gaze. "Brilliant," he said, breathlessly. He held out his right hand and she delicately set her left hand on his palm. With a slow deliberation, as if one wrong move might cause the whole world to shatter, Neville slipped the little golden circle around her third finger. It sat there as if it had been made for her.

Still trembling, although now with something besides nerves, Neville climbed back to his feet, never taking his eyes off Hannah's. His Hannah. Another surge of electricity charged through him and Neville smiled so widely he thought his face may split in two. And, in one of those glorious moments of undaunted courage, he took her face in his hands and kissed her with a happiness and passion and love he had never known he could possess.

Hannah slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, and suddenly everything in the world was right. Worry and fear and pain were gone and all he knew was the blissful beauty of this moment. After so many dark things, Neville had found something wonderful and his life seemed to lie out before him perfectly. They would marry and he would wake in the mornings to see her by his side, and eventually they would have children and raise them up together, and when they were old and retired they would dote on their grandchildren and live together until they died.

Nothing could be more right.