I attempted to write BillHannah with the prompt "huddling for warmth." The huddling part didn't really happen, but I think this sets the stage so that I can write that next. Also, I don't know how divorces work in the wizarding world so I took some liberties with that.

my whole world is electrified

Hannah couldn't believe her ears. "Hang on...you want a divorce?"

Neville nodded, his expression sheepish. "You're great, Han, it's just...I think—I mean, I know…I'm gay."

Hannah blinked. Gay? Well, that explained a few things, like why he was always staring at other men who came into the pub, and why he seemed so disgusted by her naked body. Still, she found herself wringing her hands as she asked, "How long have you—have you known long, then?"

Neville shook his head. "No, not at all. It's a very recent thing, really. I was afraid to tell you, actually, but I figured you'd be supportive...?"

Hannah threw her arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze. She couldn't fault him for liking who he liked, and she knew that they would still be close friends even after separating.

"Of course, love. I'll always support you," she said, pulling away to pat his cheek in a motherly sort of way.

Neville seemed quite relieved by this response, judging by the way his shoulders relaxed and his face broke into a wide smile. Hannah was going to miss that smile, but she truly wanted him to be happy. If that meant letting him go, she would do it in a heartbeat.

"Right," Neville said at last. "I reckon I ought to get the divorce papers drawn up so we can finalize things."

Hannah nodded. "Yes, I suppose you should."

...

The long-haired redhead who walked into the Leaky Cauldron that evening looked somewhat familiar to Hannah. After staring at him for far longer than was appropriate, she finally realized he must be Ronald Weasley's eldest brother. Bill, she thought his name was. He was still a Curse Breaker for Gringotts, as far as she knew, and according to Neville, he was also recently divorced. Apparently they had that in common now.

She wasn't sure that there were many other similarities between them, though. Physically, Bill was tall and lean, and she was the opposite. He also had a fang dangling from his ear, and Hannah's lobes were unpierced. Then there was the fact that he had chosen an exciting career, and Hannah was merely a bartender. The fact that they were both divorced and soon-to-be divorced was surely the only common ground they shared.

Bill strolled up to the bar and gave her a friendly smile. Merlin, he was handsome. Hannah nearly giggled at how freeing it was to be able to think that about a man who wasn't Neville, without feeling any guilt whatsoever.

"Good evening," he said, settling onto a barstool like it was precisely where he was meant to be at that moment. "Hannah, right?"

Hannah looked at him in surprise. She was unaware that he even knew who she was. "That's right."

"My brother Ron talks about you sometimes," he said by way of explanation, and Hannah's confusion only grew. Ron had talked about her? She couldn't for the life of her understand why.

"Oh," was all she said in reply, however. "Well, Ron's talked about you sometimes too...Bill?"

He nodded, his fang earring swinging with the gesture. "Correct."

"So, what's your poison, Bill?" Hannah asked, waving a hand at the many bottles of alcohol behind her.

The redhead studied them for a moment, then smiled broadly. "I'll take a glass of cahaça."

"Exotic," Hannah said, giving the choice a nod of approval. She bustled over to a bottle of white cahaça and poured a general glassful, which she then slid onto the counter. "Enjoy."

"I will, thank you," Bill said, toasting her with the glass.

...

Hannah served several more customers before turning her attention to Bill again.

"So, what brings you to Diagon Alley?" she asked.

"Gringotts business," he replied, "but I'm afraid I can't say much more than that."

So Bill was handsome and mysterious. Hannah found it a thrilling combination, and was suddenly very thankful that she was almost-single. Not because she thought anything would ever happen between them, but because it gave her the freedom to think sinful thoughts about him if she so desired.

She cast about for another topic. As she did so, her eyes fell on the windows of the pub. Snowflakes were dancing through the air, leaving a thin dusting of white powder everywhere they landed.

"Goodness, is that snow I see?" she exclaimed, then blushed because talking about the weather was a rather lame thing to do. "That's odd, I don't recall the forecast saying anything about snow."

Bill twisted around to look as well. "Yeah, that definitely looks like snow." He shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "It'll probably pass over pretty quick if the forecast didn't mention it."

Hannah nodded, but she was troubled by the sudden appearance of the white flakes, which seemed to be falling rather rapidly.

She didn't want to tell Bill about her concerns, however. He was probably right—it would likely be over with soon.

...

A quarter of an hour later, Hannah was beginning to think that she was right to be worried. The snow was now several inches deep, and the street outside the Leaky Cauldron appeared to be deserted.

"Hey, Bill?" she said, wincing when her voice came out at a slightly higher pitch than usual. "Would you mind taking a peek at the door for me? It gets a bit stuck when the weather's cold. I have no idea why, but I don't imagine that people want to be stuck in here when the weather's like this."

Bill looked over at the windows again, and Hannah heard him swear quietly under his breath. "I don't think anyone's going to be leaving anytime soon."

Hannah's heart sank. "What do you mean?"

He nodded towards the window, and Hannah realized the snow was now a foot deep, at least. It went all the way past the wood at the bottom of the pub's door and was starting to block the glass as well.

"I could have sworn it was only up to a few inches when I looked a moment ago," Hannah said. She gave Bill a pleading look, urging him to believe her. "If I had known it would worsen so quickly, I would have sent everyone home! Oh, Merlin, what am I going to do?"

She was horrified to find herself on the brink of tears. Neville still hadn't returned with the divorce papers, which meant that he could be out in the middle of the snowstorm and in real danger. On top of that, she had at least a dozen customers in the pub that needed looking after. There was a lot to worry about, and Hannah didn't handle worry very well.

Bill quickly produced a handkerchief and handed it to her, looking away as she dabbed at her eyes. "Look, at least you've got copious amounts of alcohol to cheer everyone up."

Hannah chuckled weakly. "Good point."

...

The pub's patrons grumbled a little at the news that they wouldn't be able to leave until the storm had passed, but overall, it went over better than Hannah had expected. Bill put himself in charge of pouring drinks for anyone who asked—"You've had a long day of it, Hannah," he insisted—which left Hannah free to twist her hands and fret.

She had sent a Patronus to Neville, trying to ascertain whether he was safe, but his reply had been brief: "I'm alright, I've hunkered down and am just waiting out the storm." She wanted to know where he was hunkering down, but decided not to grill him about it just then. There would be time for that later, when everyone was able to go home.

"Excuse me, miss, but have you any blankets around here?" a young man asked, walking up to Hannah. He nodded at an older man seated at a table just behind him. "My dad's wondering what we'll do about sleeping, since it doesn't seem like the snow will let up before the morning."

Hannah blinked. She hadn't even thought ahead to sleeping arrangements.

"Er, I suppose the tables could be transfigured into beds," she mused, "and I've got plenty of blankets so there's no need to worry about that either."

"Great," the young man said. He thanked her before hurrying back to his father.

Hannah let out a long, quiet exhale. What a headache this evening was turning out to be.

...

True to her word, Hannah began transfiguring the pub's small wooden tables into beds at around 8 o'clock, so that anyone who wished to make an early night of it had that option available to them. The beds were quite simple, little more than frames with legs, but Bill said that they looked nice, and Hannah was unable to stop blushing for a good while after that compliment.

Hannah didn't consider herself particularly boy-crazy, but there was just something so magnetic about the eldest Weasley, something that had captivated her attention in the worst way. Maybe it was his confidence, or perhaps it was his bold style of dress. Whatever it was, she seemed unable to go more than a few minutes without thinking about him, wondering what he was doing and what he might be thinking about.

"Hannah?"

She spun around to find Bill gazing intently at her. Her hands moved to smooth down her apron, which she still hadn't taken off.

"Yes, Bill?"

"Seems like everyone is pretty well taken care of," he said. "If you want to call it a night, I'm more than happy to keep an eye on everyone out here."

Hannah glanced down at her watch. "It's only 9 PM."

"Sure, but you've had a rough day," the redhead said. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind the extra rest."

Hannah fought to keep her jaw from dropping. How did Bill know about her impending divorce? And why did he think it was rough on her?

"I'm fine, really," she said quickly. "I mean, it feels a little strange, not wearing my wedding ring, but I'll get used to it."

Bill shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. "I was talking about how exhausted you must be from worrying about everyone."

Hannah felt her cheeks flame. "Oh, right. That certainly has taken a lot out of me."

Bill appeared to be looking at her left hand, no doubt to confirm that she really wasn't wearing a ring. Her hand suddenly felt more naked than it had all evening, and she shoved it into the pocket of her apron after a moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bill asked quietly.

Hannah shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was out Neville without his permission. "That's very kind of you, but it's a personal matter."

Bill nodded. "I respect that. If the urge strikes, however...well, I'm here all night."

Hannah laughed. "Thanks, Bill."

...

At 10:00, Hannah decided that it was a reasonable hour to go to bed. She had downed a couple of Firewhiskey shots in the last hour to calm her nerves, and she knew that if she didn't excuse herself soon, she was going to make a fool of herself. The buzz from the alcohol was making her feel giddy, and even more giggly than usual.

The snow was several feet deep outside the pub's door, and Hannah quickly performed a spell to reinforce it, then performed a few more to prevent any sticky fingers from taking any alcohol while she was out of sight.

"I'm going to bed now," she announced to the few customers who were still awake. There were nods, goodnight wishes, and a couple of thank yous, but Hannah was more interested in the tall redhead that stood and followed her to the stairs at the back of the bar. She grinned at him. "Are you following me, Bill Weasley?"

"Just making sure you make it safely to your room," he replied.

Hannah giggled. "It's not like I've got far to go, you know."

"I know, but you're inebriated, and I'm a gentleman," he said, holding out an arm. Oh, he was smooth. Hannah could appreciate that.

"Thank you," she said at last, taking the proffered arm. "I suppose I could use a gentleman right about now, what with Neville being gone and all."

Bill's brow furrowed. "He...left you, then?"

"Oh, just for the evening!" Hannah hastened to say. "I mean, he did ask for a divorce, but he hasn't left just yet, if that makes sense…"

She knew that she was babbling, but the Firewhiskey seemed to have loosened her tongue—a lot.

"He actually went to get divorce papers drawn up this afternoon," she continued. "But then the storm hit, so I guess we won't be signing them until tomorrow, at the earliest. Still, I'm a free woman. Neville and I—we're over. Past the point of no return. Done."

Bill nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I'm sorry things didn't work out between you."

Hannah waved at hand at him as they reached the top of the staircase. "It's okay. We just weren't meant to be, I suppose. I'm...sorry things didn't work out between you and your wife, either."

"Ah, you heard about that?" When Hannah nodded, he shrugged. "We had grown apart. It was kind of inevitable. My family was a little surprised and disappointed at first, I think, but they came around pretty quick once they realized that no one was to blame, and that I was perfectly okay with it."

Hannah winced as she considered how her own family might react to the news. They would probably be disappointed at first, too. They simply adored Neville.

"So how's bachelorhood treating you?" she asked as she started towards the bedroom. Bill laughed, and she felt a sort of thrill run down her spine.

"It's been great. I have so much freedom now," Bill said, hovering by the bedroom door. "Er, are you okay to get yourself into bed?"

Hannah hesitated. The honest answer was "yes," but she didn't want him to leave. Thankfully, Bill seemed to take her hesitation as confirmation.

"Okay, let's get your socks and shoes off," he said, entering the room and sitting on the bed. He patted the covers beside him, and Hannah plopped down where he had indicated, leaning in a little closer than she might have had she been sober.

"Thanks for doing this," she whispered loudly, tugging her socks off her feet and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor. "Oops! I guess I'm being a bit of a slob."

"It's fine," Bill chuckled. "I won't tell a soul."

"Good," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. "'Cause I'll know it was you." She bent down again and frowned at the laces on her sensible black and white work shoes.

"Need some help?" Bill asked.

Hannah looked at him sheepishly. "Maybe."

She held her breath as he slid off the bed and crouched on the floor by her feet. His hair looked so soft and inviting, and she had to use every ounce of restraint to not reach out and touch it. In a few swift movements, he untied the laces and pulled off her shoes.

"All set," he said, standing. Hannah looked up at him and smiled.

"Thanks."

"I guess I should go back downstairs now," he said. His voice had taken on a somewhat husky quality, and it made Hannah shiver. He must have noticed, for he gave her a worried look. "Are you cold?"

"No," Hannah said quickly. "I'm just...unused to sleeping alone. It feels strange."

Bill gave her a smile that she took to be understanding rather than pitying. "I remember what that was like. You'll get used to it, though, I promise."

"I'm just not sure I can deal with it tonight. It's been...well, you've seen how it's been," Hannah said, fighting the voice in her head that was screaming at her to invite him into her bed already. She hoped that she wasn't being too manipulative by adding, "I don't suppose you could stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Bill ran a hand through his hair. "Sure."

...

At first, it was rather awkward. Bill insisted on sitting beside the bed on a wooden stool that he conjured up. Hannah found herself unable to sleep due to his proximity, however. After a while, she sat up and rubbed at her eyes.

"Bill?" she whispered. She knew that he was still there—she hadn't heard him leave.

"Yeah?" The redhead's voice floated over to her, and she squinted into the darkness to try and see him.

"Where—where are you?"

"Still on my little stool," he chuckled. "Well, it's a sort of sofa now, the stool was far too uncomfortable."

"Oh." Hannah began to regret asking him to stay. The poor bloke was clearly just sticking around to be polite. "You can go back downstairs if you want. There's no reason to remain up here."

"No, it's okay," he said. His voice was gentle and reassuring, as though he knew what she was thinking and was determined to make her believe otherwise. "I don't mind."

"Why are you being so nice?" Hannah wondered aloud. She was grateful that the darkness hid her subsequent blush. She wasn't usually so blunt, but she had to know what was compelling him to act so kindly towards her. He barely knew her.

Bill took his time replying. "I suppose I just... don't want to leave you alone right now. The way you talked about the end of your marriage, it seemed as though it was because of something Neville did. I figured you must be feeling pretty vulnerable."

"I am," Hannah admitted. "Merlin, I feel like everyone I come across must know. About Neville and me, that is."

"Oh, I've been there," Bill said sympathetically. "You're so sure that there's a neon sign reading 'Just Divorced' on your forehead."

"Exactly!" Hannah exclaimed. "And it feels like anyone you tell is just going to treat you pityingly, because how could you let your marriage fall apart? How could you not see the signs that things weren't okay?"

She was talking more to herself than to Bill now. The guilt that she felt over not realizing her husband was gay was finally bursting forth like water over a dam, and with it came the tears, which flowed hard and fast.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with the blanket. "This whole divorce thing kind of took me by surprise, I guess."

She felt the bed shift a little as Bill joined her on it.

"You don't need to apologize for being upset," he said. A moment later, he had lit a candle and floated it over to her bedside table. It gave off just enough light for her to see his face, though it was hidden in shadow. "And you don't have to pretend that you're okay if you're not, Hannah."

She nodded and let out a weak laugh, wiping the rest of the tears from her face. "Thanks for the reminder."

"May I?" he asked, lifting the covers.

"Y-yes, of course," Hannah stuttered. As if there was any way she would refuse to let him in her bed!

He scooted under the blankets, then smiled over at her. "This blanket is remarkably soft."

"Oh, thanks," Hannah said. "It's, er, actually made from one of the plants Neville discovered. Mollis nubes. It means 'soft cloud.'"

"Very appropriate. Where did he discover it?" Bill asked.

His inquiry got Hannah started on the lengthy story, which involved rattlesnakes, lost trousers, and an unforgettable tour guide named Antonio. By the end of it, they were both laughing, and Hannah's distress had all but melted away.

"Thank you, Bill," she murmured, reaching out to find—and take—his hand. "I don't feel quite so sad, or quite so alone, now."

He gave her hand a squeeze before leaning over to drop a kiss into her hair. "Anytime, Hannah."

Hannah smiled, then let out a small squeak as her eyes fell on her watch. In the flickering candlelight, she could just barely make out the time: 11:30 PM.

"Oh, Merlin, I need to get some sleep," she moaned. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day, what with making sure everyone gets home, filling out order forms to replace all the liquor that was drunk, and—"

"Alright, I get the idea," Bill cut in. "Can't have you getting so worked up that you can't sleep, now, can we?"

"I suppose not," Hannah said, shaking her head. She shimmied her way under the covers as Bill extinguished the candle and followed suit. Rather than feeling awkward and uncomfortable with his proximity as she had earlier, she now felt at ease, even peaceful.

She also felt much warmer...and she didn't think that was because of embarrassment. Bill just seemed to radiate heat. Perhaps it had something to do with the werewolf in him. She made a mental note to ask him in the morning, as she was already starting to drift off.

...

Hannah awoke to sunlight streaming through the windows and blinked. How had she managed to sleep in so late?

"Good morning, Han," an amused voice said.

Hannah blinked again. "Neville?"

Sure enough, her brown-haired, gangly almost-ex husband was standing before her, grinning and looking very smug.

"Did you have a nice night?" he asked.

"I—" Hannah's eyes widened and she leapt out of bed with a shriek. "You saw Bill downstairs, didn't you?" When he nodded, she buried her face in her hands. "I am so sorry, Nev."

"Sorry?" Neville laughed. "Why are you sorry? It's okay that you've moved on already."

"Oh, no, I didn't—nothing happened," Hannah said, struggling to keep the wistfulness from her tone. "We just...shared a bed. That's all." Seeing that Neville didn't look convinced, she rolled her eyes. "Come on, Nev, do you really think that Bill Weasley wants to sleep with me? Have you seen the bloke?"

"I most certainly have," Neville said dreamily. "Merlin, what I wouldn't do for him."

Hannah gave his arm a playful smack. "Back off, he's mine."

Neville chuckled. "Fine, but we should probably finalize our divorce before you make any more moves on him." He produced some parchment from the pocket of his robes and held them out to her. "Sign these, and you're free."

Hannah plucked a quill from her bedside table drawer, then stared down at the forms. It hit her then, the enormity of what she was about to do. She was about to get divorced. After standing before her family and friends and pledging to love Neville forever, she was breaking that contract. Granted, it was no fault of her own, or even his, but it still weighed heavily on her for a moment.

"Hannah?" Neville gently closed his hand around her wrist. "It's okay if you're not ready to do this yet. I know it's a lot to ask…"

"No," Hannah said, her voice firm. "No, I want to do this, Nev. For you and for me." She smiled at him, then pulled her wrist out of his grasp and signed the first parchment with a flourish of the quill.

"Right," Neville said, staring at her with something that might have been admiration, "I don't know what you and Bill did last night besides share a bed, but you're different than you were yesterday, Han. More...confident and assured. I like it, and I'm sure Bill does too."

Hannah felt her cheeks grow warm. Maybe there was a chance for her and Bill after all. She was just going to have to owl him and invite him back to the Leaky Cauldron for dinner and drinks sometime soon.

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