"There's not much I wouldn't do for a bar of chocolate, except give up my bar of chocolate." - Neville, at least 100 times, mostly to Hannah when they got drunk and hungry.

Ginny led him through the potion supply shop on the south end of Diagon Alley. Her mood much improved, and Neville had the sneaking suspicion it had mostly to do with his shower and not that he actually left the house. Even he had to admit how overdue that scrub had been.

But the thought made him laugh aloud. "I'm a real mess, Gin."

"I know, Nevvy," she said, studying her list carefully.

Hermione sent over the list of necessary potion ingredients at Ginny's request along with instructions on how to brew the Dreamless Sleep Potion. If done correctly, it would give him several doses. More than enough to get a few night's worth of sleep out of.

He felt hopeful for the first time in nearly a week. But that hope was a bare flicker compared to the dread that he might run into Hannah on this little trip to Diagon Alley. The guilt ramped up the moment he stepped through the Floo at The Leaky.

The pub and inn their old stomping grounds. Always meeting up for a drink or two, and seeing where the night would take them. They'd either wander into Diagon Alley for dessert. Ice cream at Florean Fortescue's or down to Tilly's for tea cakes and coffee. Over to Divina's, a renowned chocolate shop. Or, if they were feeling particularly brave, or had enough to drink, they would go the opposite way. Into Muggle London and unknown territory.

It felt wrong to be there without Hannah. Even in this potion supply shop he hadn't set foot in since his old school days. The unbreakable bracelet around his wrist felt twice as heavy. Was he missing her?

Of course you miss your wife, idiot.

Wife!?

Hannah wasn't his wife. He couldn't marry her, Neville knew. He'd known it for years. The subject had come up several times with his closest of friends. They all wondered if Hannah was the one for him, and every time the question came around, he started itching uncomfortably.

His excuse - it was too soon. He wasn't ready for marriage. Wasn't ready to commit to Hannah on such a grand level. Usually a trip followed those occasions. Now he realized, far, far too late, that it wasn't a commitment thing. It was a love thing.

"Hello? Earth to Neville, can you hear me?"

"What?" Neville startled, realizing Ginny stood quite close and looked ticked off again. "Sorry, I'm distracted."

Caught under her scrutinizing stare, Neville resisted the urge to squirm, though he was much taller than her. She stepped forward and looked up at him, a combination of worry and suspicion on her freckled face. "Nev…?" she started.

"Uh, yes Gin?" His eyes went wide, refusing to blink. To back down.

"Your eyes looked different for a second," she said softly, as if not believing what she saw. "Darker..."

And how was he supposed to respond, not having a clue to what she was talking about? He rubbed his face, stressed out. "I'm just tired and I need to get out of here."

"Forget it, I have all the ingredients you need. Let's pay and get you home."

Sounded like the best idea to him. He wasn't sure he could spend another moment in Diagon Alley, that uncomfortable itch coming back to make his already spinning head and his uncontrollable thoughts twice as bad.

Side by side, they walked out of the narrow aisle and a big crash happened. Later, Neville was able to put the series of events in order. First Ginny turned when they passed the shelf and ran into a dark woman, one who most certainly spent a considerable amount of time in the gym.

They collided hard, enough to send both flying backwards. Ginny fell into Neville, their shopping bag scattering insect parts everywhere, who toppled over and into the tall shelf behind him.

His feet went over his head before tough wood met the back of his skull, sending potion ingredients, smelly and wet, raining down across the floor and glass shattering as a large jar of spider guts landed bare inches from his face.

Groaning, Neville forced himself to roll over and up on his feet, wiping gooey liquid and small bits of glass from his face and beard. Helping Ginny up as he did. On the other side of the aisle, the other woman was doing much the same with a third woman.

One who was most definitely not Hannah Abbott.

Seeing that everyone seemed mostly unharmed, the real damage the broken jar, Neville set out to clean up the mess they caused. He used his wand to gather up the spider guts and repair the strange oblong shaped jar they came in. Then he got down on his knees and started carefully collecting the ingredients needed for his potion. No way was he losing these, the shop didn't have anymore Purple Fungus Beetle carapaces, the main ingredient for Dreamless Sleep and the one that gave the potion its plummy colored glow.

"Pardon us," Ginny said somewhat shortly to the women they ran into. "Is everyone alright?"

"We're fine," the dark woman responded in a harsh tone. Which caught his attention. There wasn't much reason to be rude, the whole collision had clearly been an accident.

"Please excuse my friend, she's a bit cranky today… Oh, you're Ginny… Potter..." the third woman spoke up. Her voice, silvery and soft turned afraid and scratchy, had his head jerking in her direction at the familiarity. Carapaces forgotten, he pushed past Ginny to stand in front of Pansy Parkinson. Whose nearly black hair had grown in the years since Hogwarts until it reached mid back, her wide eyes a striking silver, and her nose still turned up at the end.

But the voice.

The one that called him 'idiot' these past few weeks.

The one that made him feel crazy enough to run off to St. Mungo's permanent ward.

The one that shouldn't be in his head in the first place.

It broke free and took control. "Stella!"

He rushed forward, grabbed his wife, and kissed the hell out of her.