Hannah Abbott had not been having the best of days. She was hot and tired, her blonde hair escaping the knot at the nape of her neck and tickling her shoulders, her eyes dark-rimmed with lack of sleep. It had been a busy evening at the Leaky Cauldron, and she'd just managed to get a breather in between crowds. And of course, just when she was feeling particularly sweaty and nasty and unattractive, the gorgeous guy she'd had a crush on for years, the one she hadn't seen all summer, walked into the bar. Every female eye in the place followed him, and, she noticed, some of the male eyes as well. Perfect timing, just perfect, she thought to herself wryly, but put on her brightest smile for him nonetheless. Doesn't matter, she reminded herself sternly, trying to slow her racing heart. He's dating Luna, and there's no way you can compete with Luna, even at your best.
"Hey, Neville. How was your summer? Something to drink?"
"A Butterbeer, please, and it was glorious. How are you, Hannah?"
She reached for a clean mug and held it under the tap, careful to get just the right pour.
"Doing just fine, thanks." She paused, wondering whether to inquire. Will I sound jealous or nosy if I ask where Luna is?
He noticed her tentative glance around, and sighed. "We broke up. Amicably. She's gone off to join an expedition hunting for magical wildlife. Doesn't want to come back to Hogwarts after, well, everything, and she's not ready to settle down and date seriously yet, and I doubt I'll be the guy for her when she is."
"I'm sorry to hear that." No, you're not, her conscience twinged at her. "Are you all right?"
He smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm fine, no worries. It was a fling. Fun while it lasted, for both of us I hope, but, well, we're still friends, and all, and that's what mattered." He took a sip of his Butterbeer. "Have you done something to the recipe? This is much better than I remember it."
She dimpled at him. "Thanks! I convinced Tom to let me fiddle with it a bit – my aunt's old technique. He says," and here her voice deepened into a convincing imitation of Tom's gruff grumble, "as long as you're taking over the place anyway, you might as well start putting your own stamp on it."
"So you have." He looked around at the windows, now full of greenery, blooming and twining and reaching for the sunbeams. Even the darker corners had shade-loving plants in them, some of them singing softly to themselves.
"Home is where the plants are, as Professor Sprout always says..."
"Agreed." He lifted his mug to her, his kindred-spirit grin making the blood in her veins fizz and sparkle. I've missed him so much.
And of course, it was just at that point that the pair of really aggravating young women who had been getting on Hannah's nerves all evening decided to chime in. "Aww, come on, handsome," one of them giggled tipsily. "Why waste your time on her? She's just a Hufflepuff, after all..."Oh crap, here we go again. I can't let myself rise to the bait, they're customers and I'm working...but why does this have to happen now, in front of Neville?
But then she saw Neville's face. "What do you mean, 'just' a Hufflepuff?" His voice was soft, but it could have frozen Fiendfyre.
The girl shrugged, clearly not knowing when to stop digging. "Well, everyone knows it's the house of leftovers, where you go if you're not smart enough or brave enough or sneaky enough for the others. The rejects."
"Then everyone knows wrong. Where were you during the Battle of Hogwarts?" he demanded. "I don't remember seeing you there."
She backed away defensively. "I'm an only child. My parents insisted I evacuate, because they didn't want to lose me. I couldn't help it."
"I'm an only child too. So is Hannah. And while you were safe at home, she was with me and Dumbledore's Army, fighting Death Eaters as bravely as any Gryffindor. Braver than some." He withered her with a look. "There were people from every other house, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Slytherins, who chose to stay home in safety last year or worse, join up with the Death Eaters. But not from Hufflepuff. Every single Hufflepuff who was old enough was with Dumbledore's Army giving everything they had to stop Voldemort. Some of them died. Too many of them died. And they didn't do it for the glory, they didn't do it for fame or fortune or recognition, they did it because it needed to be done. That's Hufflepuff for you, every single time, doing what needs to be done no matter what it costs them. They're the best of the lot of us, really. You aren't fit to polish her shoes, let alone sit at her bar and order her around."
As he fell silent, he realized that he had been louder than he had intended, and the bar was dead silent, listening. Suddenly, a round of applause burst from a table containing several Gryffindor students. "You tell 'em, Nev!" shouted Seamus Finnegan, and Dean Thomas, his arm around Seamus's waist, seconded the cry. The applause spread through the bar, until even a Slytherin table was clapping.
The troublemaker's friend nudged her urgently to her feet, and they tried to look as though they were stalking out in a huff. It rather spoiled the image, though, when the girl who had been doing the talking knocked over her bar stool, spilled her drink, fell face first into the puddle, and had to be picked up by her friend, covered in Firewhisky and shame. The bar roared with laughter, and then cheerfully settled back into its normal evening buzz as the girls slammed the door behind them, announcing the end of the show.
"Sorry, Hannah, I didn't mean to make a scene," said Neville, righting the stool and mopping up what was left of the spilled drink with his napkin.
"Neville, I...uh..." She realized she was stammering, and stopped short. "Thanks for standing up for us," she finally got out, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "She's been pulling that all week, because everyone knows how easy it is to get me riled on that particular topic, and I can't lose my temper with a customer..."
"Some people are just rotten. Every word I said was true, especially the part about her not being fit to polish your shoes."
He paused, swallowing another mouthful of Butterbeer. "I begged the Sorting Hat to put me into Hufflepuff, you know. And not really because I thought it was the soft option, if that's what you're thinking. I wanted it because it was the cozy option." His face softened, and he seemed to shed years. "I was a lonely little kid, didn't have too many friends my own age growing up, all my relatives were convinced I was a Squib, and my parents were, well, gone. Hufflepuff seemed so warm and welcoming and cozy, like a big family with room for everyone. I wanted that so badly, Hannah. And yeah, I found friends in Gryffindor too, just like there's plenty of courage in Hufflepuff. But you guys represent everything that's best about Hogwarts, the heart of everything we were fighting for last year, and don't ever let anyone make you forget that. I never will." His eyes met hers, all earnest sincerity, and she felt her insides dissolve into jelly.
Merlin, Longbottom, do you have ANY IDEA what you do to me? But she only reached out and put her hand on his. "I've still got one year to finish at Hogwarts, even if I'm not staying in the dorm itself, and during that year, you have a standing invitation to our common room at any time. Not one of us would ever deny you entry, not you. You may have the courage of a Gryffindor, but you've got the heart of a 'Puff, too. And you can be one of our family any time you want, Gryffindor or not."
"I think that's the highest compliment anyone's ever given me." And how on Earth is a girl supposed to resist a smile like that?
She grinned, trying to lighten the mood before the look in his eyes melted her into a puddle on the floor. "I'll even make you some of my famous apple dumplings. There are advantages to having a common room right near the kitchens. It annoys the house-elves, when we want to bake things ourselves rather than let them do it for us, but they indulge us."
"You," he pointed his mug at her, "are a dangerous woman."
"I'm not even the worst. Wait till you try Justin's chocolate chip cookies. Or Ernie's lemon meringue pie. Or Susan's carrot cake."
"Why aren't you all the size of houses?"
"Because we share." She thought for a minute. "That's what we need. We've all been so turned on each other, so divided. We need a common room for all Hogwarts students, and alumni reunions, too. With regular parties."
But then a call from another table summoned her, and she didn't have time to continue the thought before another rush began and she was busy pulling drinks and carrying trays. When she was finally able to turn back, she found Neville gone, but in his place, a little napkin drawing of a lion hugging a badger, and a note: You're worth twelve of her, you know. N.L.