Word Count: 327
By the time her husband enters the Leaky Cauldron, Hannah has already fantasized about quitting six times today. As the owner of the pub, she doubts it's that simple, of course. Still, there's something beautiful about the thought of just walking away and never coming back.
"I haven't seen you in so long," she says, and her words almost sound like a sob, emphasizing exactly how exhausted she is.
Neville snorts. "This is why you should listen to me," he teases. "I told you we ought to go somewhere for summer hols."
"Keep it up, and you're sleeping on the couch tonight," she warns, but her heart isn't in it. She can't even bring herself to sound annoyed; she just sounds tired, pitiful, ready to crawl into bed and forget the day.
"You wouldn't dare. Besides, I come bearing gifts." Neville lifts a pink bag, and Hannah recognizes it immediately. There's a new sweets shop in Diagon Alley. She's been meaning to check it out for ages, but she never seems to have time.
She opens it, and her heart melts. Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, all her favorites. Then there are things she doesn't recognize, specialties from the shop: brightly colored licorice, something drizzled in chocolate ganache, miniature ice cream cones with ice cream that doesn't melt.
Hannah bites the inside of her cheek. Neville has always been so good to her. She wonders how she ever got so lucky. Bad days are never so bad because he's always there with and warm smile and a kind gesture.
"I'm sorry for being grumpy," she says.
Neville takes a seat at the bar and shakes his head. He never calls her out on it, no matter how many bad days she has. Sometimes she thinks he's more of a Hufflepuff than she is.
She fixes him a butterbeer, offering him a smile. "You know," she says, "I think we really should take a holiday this summer."