Spruce: to make neat or dapper

February 19, 2000

"Hi."

Funny how that one little word could stop him in his tracks. Surly less nerve-racking things than a pretty girl sipping tea in his grandmother's kitchen had left Neville Longbottom tongue-tied, but that had been before he'd headed an army in battle. He'd rather hoped he'd moved past that stuttering, awkward stage. Then again, who would ever have expected to find a sweet, pretty girl anywhere near his somewhat severe grandmother?

"Hannah," he managed, feeling his face redden as he stopped in the doorway.

He must look dashing, he thought, with dirt spattering his baggy, green work robes and rubbery smock, purple sap smudging his cheek, and his hair sticking up from all the times the venomous tentaculus had made a grab for his goggles. And he was pretty sure he smelled like dragon manure on top of all that. But instead of wrinkling her nose and muttering some lame excuse about a forgotten appointment to get as far away from him as possible, Hannah Abbott did something completely amazing: she smiled.

"I've got the night off," she told him, carefully setting down the steaming mug of bitterroot tea she'd probably been too polite to refuse. "I thought I'd see if you wanted to do anything."

"Uh, yeah, s-sure," Neville said dumbly, bobbing his head. "Just… let me…."

He moved towards the stairs as quickly as he could, hoping the manure stench wouldn't reach Hannah. As he took the steps two at a time, he heard his grandmother continue a conversation that had to do with Neville's childhood fear of garden gnomes. He closed his eyes briefly. If she'd come just one hour later….

Upstairs, Neville raced through a shower, hoping he managed to get all the dried mud out of his hair. He didn't even feel the temperature of the water, he was going so fast. He scrubbed the dirt from under his fingernails, shaved the stubble on his chin (and accidentally his left eyebrow before he managed to pin down the blasted magical razor he'd gotten from his great Uncle Algea, but luckily he figured out how to grow it back), and attempted to comb his hair.

He was jittering so much, he could barely do up a clean set of robes. And of course the only clean ones he could find were an old set of his school robes which were just a little too short. Sighing in exasperation, Neville flopped down on his bed.

He was being stupid. It wasn't like Hannah was here for a date, was it? Why was he trying to dress up, anyway? She'd probably think he was a complete idiot, jumping to conclusions or trying to make a move on her (like he had any moves). She'd probably invited Ernie and Justin and the rest, too, and he'd look totally ridiculous as usual.

There was a hesitant knock on his bedroom door. "Neville?"

Grimacing at his reflection, Neville got up and opened the door.

"Ready to go?" Hannah asked, for some reason sounding slightly breathless.

For the first time, he noticed the jeweled butterfly clip glittering in her hair, the freshly-pressed look of her purple robes, the – was that perfume?

He swallowed.

"Um… yeah. Let's go. Are we meeting anyone?" he added as he closed his bedroom door.

Hannah turned a little pink. "No. It's just us."

He suppressed a sigh of relief. "Great."

They started down the stairs, which were so narrow, their shoulders kept brushing.

"You, er, look nice," he offered, glancing shyly at her.

"You clean up pretty good yourself," she smiled, reaching up to smooth his hair down.

A/N: Aw. Neville and Hannah. Gotta love 'em. Anyway, review, yes?