"If we're so in love, why doesn't he take me with him when he goes traveling? Shouldn't we go together? I want a nice tan too!" - Hannah to Susan over box of homemade chocolate eclairs.

Hannah woke up with a fuzzy taste in her mouth and the kind of instant regret that only came from doing something totally moronic while inebriated.

Like owling an ex a naughty photo. Or worse, sending a hastily written love poem with it. Both of which she did one night after a rather bad fight with Neville. Ernie Mac had laughed it off, but Hannah still woke up some nights suddenly dying of embarrassment all over again.

Barely a second went by before she remembered why she felt humiliated beyond comfort. Susie. Wine. A blunt. Drunkenly deciding to take the Floo over to her ex-boyfriend's house and running into the woman said ex-boyfriend kissed.

Yet that woman had been kind and put her to bed before she could get really sick.

Why, why oh why, did she think drinking that much would be a good idea? She knew her body! She was a lightweight on the best of days. A glass of wine was more than enough to have an effect. Why did she have the entire bottle!

Groaning, Hannah rolled out of bed. Or tried too anyways. Her legs tangled in the sheets until she upended over the edge and landed on the floor. Traitorous limbs. Oof—and bad knees.

"Why aren't you working?" she whispered to her bruised kneecaps. Had she fallen? Her position put her face to face with a bucket of her own sick. Physical evidence of her poor life choices. Kicking away the offensive linens, Hannah managed to pull herself up.

"It's okay," she assured herself, searching her person for a wand and having no luck. "Your 20s are for making bad decisions. Yeah. Let's go with that."

Pasting on a brave face, she left the room in search of Nev. She wanted two things. Apologize for her behavior and clean up the mess she made. Augusta left enough of a mess for Neville when she up and married that old coot Erasmus. Hannah was still half way convinced Auggie did it to make Neville settle down.

He couldn't afford to keep putting off finding more permanent work instead of the little side jobs he often did when he had a big home to take care of. He couldn't go traveling or seeing the world when his family home was on the line.

She might have believed differently if Augusta left the house intact. Instead, she took all the furniture and left a vacant, dusty mess with the expectation that Neville would rise to the challenge and fix up and furnish the place.

Forcing him into responsibility.

When she got the news that Neville was moving into his family home permanently, Hannah remembered thinking how grateful she felt to Augusta, for giving him a reason to stay in town. Anchoring him to not just Longbottom Keep… but also to Hannah.

But she should have known better. Even if her and Nev hadn't split, she wished she could go back in time and tell him not to do it. Because it trapped him here when he wasn't ready for the commitment. Hindsight sucked.

He wasn't in his room so she took the stairs all the way down and searched the kitchen. She stumbled over to the sink, grabbing a juice glass, and turning the faucet for grapefruit juice before she realized she wasn't alone.

"Oh, you're back," she said to Pansy Parkinson. Did the witch sleep here last night? Please, god, she hoped not. Her achy head immediately began spiraling, thinking of Nev and this witch getting up to all sorts of sexual shenanigans while she'd been passed out in his Gran's old bedroom next to a bucket of her own vomit.

But Nev wouldn't…. Would he? No… maybe? Did she even know him anymore?

"I'm back," she replied in a sing-song voice.

The dark haired witch stood at the gas stove, a wooden spoon in hand, a pot steaming away. Was this the morning after breakfast? Why else would she be cooking in Nev's kitchen? And why did Hannah simply adore the floral print dress she wore. Purple and yellow petals overlapping each other beautifully.

"Are those… pansies?"

"Are they?"

"You enjoy being ambiguous, don't you?"

"Maybe."

Pansy said it in a dry tone, but Hannah thought she saw a hint of a smile. She turned and searched the top cabinet for a Hangover Cure, finding one had been set in the very front and on the lowest shelf, in easy reach.

Neville.

For as long as she knew him, he'd always been a huge sweetheart. And that thought finally killed the hints of doubt plaguing her. Of course Hannah knew Neville… just because they were separated now didn't mean his entire personality had suddenly changed. He wouldn't parade around a new girlfriend knowing Hannah was sick and miserable only a couple floors up.

There had to be a reason why Pansy was hanging around.

Hangover Cure in hand, she downed it all in one go, a cool, soothing relief spreading through her head and stomach and achy limbs after only a moment of waiting. The sun slowly rising and peeking through the window over the sink bothered her far less. She washed it back with the fresh grapefruit juice and turned back to Neville's strange house guest.

"I wanted to say thank you, for being so kind to me last night," she offered, wondering why Pansy was even here. And… making… Jam?

"Of course. I've been there, to be completely honest," Pansy actually did give her a small smile this time. "Alcohol makes for bad decisions, the kind you can't take back."

That was God's honest truth, Hannah thought as she peeked into Pansy's pan. Definitely jam. Apricot and mint, by the scent of it. Neville had an apricot tree. But that didn't explain why the witch was here turning the fruit into jam. "So… exactly wh-"

"Neville is outside," Pansy explained, badly guessing at her question. "He's quite upset and last I saw he had a rather large ax."

Oh no…

"The big ax?" Hannah asked, eyes going wide. "Did it have a brown or a black handle?"

The question made Pansy turn to face her, wooden spoon dripping with liquefied fruit. "Brown I think. Why?"

"He's gone to chop down a tree," Hannah put a hand over her forehead, headache suddenly coming back. Whenever Nev got truly upset, put in a situation where he had no good options or nothing he could do about it, he would grab that big damn ax his Uncle Algie got him and go chop down a tree in a weird, masculine temper tantrum.

"Is there a flat pan or sheet I could cool this in? Then we can go find Neville and make sure he isn't over extending himself."

Uh… Blinking, Hannah bent down to the furthest cabinet and took out the brownie pan she bought for Nev ages ago. "Will this do?"

"Just so," Pansy smirked and set the pan beside the stove top. She turned off the gas eye and tilted her pot full of bubbling jam out onto the cool sheet. Then she tapped the sheet with her wand. "To keep it from sticking."

"Ahh," Hannah thought the entire thing was surreal.

Why was Pansy Parkinson making jam in her ex-boyfriend's kitchen?!

Then she stashed her wand away and wiped her hands on her dress before she made for the backdoor. "He went off this way."

Jeez, she was fast. Maybe subconsciously Pansy was trying to get away from her.

"So, erm," Hannah jogged to catch up with her and the two of them followed the small footpath that led out of Neville's immediate backyard and off into the woods that surrounded the property. "Are you and Nev like… friends now?"

Hand reaching up to pull at the high collar of her pretty dress, Pansy laughed softly. "Yes, friends," she said as if she couldn't believe it herself.

Hannah felt terribly like she missed out on a joke. It seemed to her this witch who used to tease and pick on Hannah had turned into a real odd-bird. During school Pansy made it a point to flaunt her Pureblood status to everyone who wasn't at that level, including Hannah. Perhaps she still thought herself better.

"There he is," Pansy said after they walked for another minute through the trees and small shrubs. "Oh, sweet nectarine."

Hannah caught sight of Neville but turned back to Pansy in shock. It almost sounded like… that accent... but surely she misheard. Shaking her head, she ignored the strange phrase from this strange witch and instead focused on Neville.

Who was indeed chopping down what looked like a dead maple tree, the branches bare of leaves and a vein of rot blackened the trunk. There must've been a patch of them, because several yards to his left was a neat pile of firewood and all around the dead maple Neville was about to lay out were three, smaller, rotted out stumps.

Sweat flattened his dark hair to his neck and soaked through his gray t-shirt, which clung to his back and shoulders in a way that made her stomach start doing flips. And he'd always looked so good in jeans. Plus he hadn't shaved in weeks it looked like. And Nev had the good fortune to be blessed with manageable facial hair. He didn't have to do anything to make it look good.

Damn he looked hot. But, Hannah reminded herself, they were broken up. Split. Done with. It was over. She suddenly felt drab compared to him. Why did he have to look so good while she was coming off a hangover and terrible decisions? The world was so terribly unfair.

Beside her, Pansy awkwardly pulled at her collar again. "I'll just give you two some time alone."

Her voice attracted Neville's attention but Pansy was already walking away and he found Hannah standing there instead. He set the ax carefully against the poor tree that was moments away from getting chopped down and came to stand in front of her.

"Hey Banana, I mean… Hannah…" he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and she rather wished he hadn't. He didn't need to be flashing his midsection at her.

She was in a fragile enough state as it was!

"Nev," she waved and looked away from the stomach she knew was harder than a cauldron. She could bounce a knut off those abs.

Get your life together, Hannah Tabitha Abbott, she thought to herself.

"I wanted to start by saying I'm sorry about last night," she mumbled out, but once she started talking it got a bit easier to continue. "I had too much to drink and I shouldn't've Floo'd over here, that wasn't proper of me."

"Babe-" he grimaced then tried again. Would they ever get over that habit? "Hannah—you are always welcome here. Especially if you're drunk and don't know where to go. We both know you make bad decisions when you've had too much."

"Hey, I only tried to Apparate to the Bahamas the one time, thank you very much."

"And it only took three Splinches before you stopped trying, thank you very much," he teased but his smile faded away quickly. Like he too only just remembered they were broken up. Teasing wasn't appropriate anymore.

Hannah tried not to get angry again, tried not to remember he was the one that broke it off between them. Instead she nodded. "Susan says we should be friends, that's what we're meant to be…?"

"I'd like that, very very much," he said wholeheartedly.

"I'm just not ready for that yet, Nevvy," Hannah said, sniffing slightly.

And she hated the sad look on his face, but knew he understood where she was coming from. They'd been in a romantic relationship for six years, and she still wasn't sure how he could suddenly not love her. How it ended so quickly.

Well, she was going to ask him.

"Because I'm still very much in love with you, even though you seem to have woken up and decided you no longer returned that love," she sniffed even harder, trying not to cry. She dreaded the thought of actually having to talk about this just now, but an even bigger part of her needed answers.

"Aww Banana," Nev shifted uncomfortably. "I swear I don't want to hurt you, but it can't be this one sided."

"It is, though," she insisted. "The sex was good-"

"The sex was great, babe," he interrupted. "But it was never us."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It was pretending to be someone else. It was pretending to be somewhere else. It was... pounding out frustration. It was never you and me," he spoke softly, trying to lessen the blow. "I think you and I needed each other during the war and afterwards, neither of us could let go of that feeling."

Yep. The tears were definitely coming after that bombshell. "So you just strung me along for six bloody years?"

"No, baby, no. I didn't realize what the problem was until a few weeks before we broke up. It took me that long to work up the courage to tell you. And yes, I realize what a complete coward I am for it, but I really hope one day you can forgive me."

Wiping at her face, she felt more rotten than the maple trees. Was he right? Did they cling to each other because of the war and then it… just... stuck? Maybe they were meant to be just friends.

"It might take me awhile," she said after they both took a few moments to cry.

"I completely understand," he said in a raspy voice, wiping at his red face. "But Banana, I need one thing from you. Where did you get this bracelet from?"

Neville lifted his arm and showed her the silver and gold chain she bought for him, still circled around his wrist and glinting in the sunlight. It seemed such an odd request after the conversation they just had but he also seemed just as serious.

"I bought it from Mirim, down at that consignment shop in Diagon Alley, on South St."