Neville sat in the vacent common room comfortably on the couch with his textbooks sprawled across his lap, lovingly clutching a crisp, cream shaded piece of paper displaying elaborate, cursive handwriting that dotted a heart in the thick, black ink upon the signature with such equisite detail that only a Ravenclaw could claim. It was merely his first three hours into his classes, and already he's received a dedicated love confession - although what astonished the physically neglected Gryffindor greatly, was the author of the text, Felicity.
The Ravenclaw was usually the one founded on the 8th floor girls washroom, mingling with her fellow house mates, and was openly admitting the fact that she gabbed more than old ladies in a bingo hall. She was a known flirt, and an obvious desired student in the Ravenclaw tower. The ringleader in the group, she had the tendencies of a 12 year old girl, and needed excessive amount of attention, a detail he pondered on when he shared a Transfiguration class with the vixen as she gossiped among her peer's as they absorbed each word she spoke with admiration.
But there was a string of questions that lingered in Longbottom's mind:
Who paid her? Is this some type of sick joke? Why the bloody hell me?
He couldn't muster an answer to any of the inquires. So he donned the realistic fact about the attractive female - she was an obvious nuisance. Flicking the note back into it's envelope, he stood and slicked the paper between his textbooks and strode to the door nonchalantly, erasing the moment in his memory of ever reading the paper. He earnestly doubted the words printed, why would somebody fancy a nobody?
The cruel mental lashing's he gave himself were slightly over exaggerated in his state, although he didn't remorse any of the low-self esteem issue's he gave himself, he'd rather not put forth himself into a situation and embarrass himself than stand for something and be humiliated. He came across that result numerous times in the past, reoccurring memories in different predicaments isn't something he'd bask in. Obviously.
Gliding down the staircases, smiling at some classmates whilst the travel down, he noted Hannah Abbott awaiting impatiently at the bottom, tapped her tiny, mary jane clad foot upon the stone and slipped a smile slowly onto her thin lips, "you best be glad I've brought you food, Neville. It was hard keeping this away from Ernie" she spoke delicately, always as if she were singing instead of holding a casual conversation. This is why Neville evidently enjoyed the presence of Hannah, she held every single trait of a typical Hufflepuff. She was a selfless little thing that over thought every action performed by each wizard and witch with such out-of-hand conclusions, and thought of everybody's needs, tending to everyone except herself.
"Ah, thanks Hannah" Neville gingerly took the plate from her palm, and offered a kind smile in return, "quite the pain sneaking that out of the great hall" she murmured, both turning to walk towards their next class together, "I appreciate it" Neville chuckled, plucking the chicken and practically engulfed the thing whole, Hannah ignored this barbaric intake and focused her attention on a flock of Ravenclaw's basking in their own aura, leaning against the wall with their textbooks pressed gently to their chests, each kindly smiling at one another and the occasional laugh that resembled an airy, high pitched bell.
Hannah immediately linked her arm around Neville's as they neared the somewhat intimidating girls, Neville noted this reflex from the Hufflepuff, and harshly smothered the heat attempting to rise into his cheeks. Averting his eyes away from the young blonde, he regretted the action hastily as it was performed, for he met the mossy green eyes that pierced a glare into the Gryffindor for a millisecond, and quickly flashed back into its forever-bored state, while beaming the Ravenclaw infamous ever-practised smile, "good afternoon, Neville" Winifred said casually, her voice containing such a sophisticated, mature tone that Slytherin's attained from being brought up in their pureblooded, lavish lifestyle - something that Winifred obviously shared with the green & silver adorned students of Slytherin.
"Afternoon" he responded, giving her a curt nod as if she were a general of some sort, earning an odd glance from Hannah as she pried herself away from his rather well muscled arm.
As they reached the end of the hall, Neville perched the porcelain plate upon a ledge that a house elf would eventually find and smiled over at Hannah nervously, "we have 15 minutes left, kind of a waste arriving early" they both stood idly outside of Muggle Studies. Hannah raised an eyebrow while shrugging her shoulders, "rather arrive early than arrive on time without a seat. This class is rather packed I heard" she leaned across from Neville, and donned a playful smirk upon her face.
Neville nodded his head in a quiet agreement. Both shared a comfortable silence as they roamed their heads of thoughts either one of them decided not to share, or kept to themselves, until Hannah pushed herself away from the stone, and broadly stared at Neville with unknown intensity that he found rather harsh to swallow, "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I cannot stand that Winifred" her words were laced with mixed emotions on the topic, confused if she were either regretful for ever disliking the Ravenclaw, or scared from the brunette that was currently laughing amongst her friends approximately twenty meters away.
"How so?" Although the statement literally appeared out of the blue, Neville quickly swallowed this information whole, because lately, he's been growing an unconscious disdainful feeling towards the Ravenclaw as well. She was too blandly cocky and rudely honest to his liking.
"She indirectly pinpoints my flaws out to my friends, and unintentionally hurts my feelings unknowingly" Hannah slowly wrapped her arms around her form insecurely as Neville watched the young Hufflepuff intensely as she crumbled before him abruptly, she bit her lower lip and casted her gaze downwards. This was a perspective of the blonde that he didn't know, he was always accustomed to the bright, bubbly Abbott that was so optimistic, it was at times annoying, not this mere woman, on the verge of self pity.
Sweeping across the hall, he outstretched his arms to embrace the slightly startled Hufflepuff, her bipolar mood swings getting the better of him, she gently clasped the crisp, white tee that he wore which reeked the scent of soap, she smiled into his hug, "I know your a flawless person, Hannah" he mumbled into her hair, sending a shrill tremble down the blonde's back, she dug her face further into his chest, and stood there simply, echoing his sentence into her head.