Hannah bit her lip, feeling her eyes tear up. If he was being honest, truly? Then clearly he really really liked her, something strong and fierce, and it made her think of how long Neville had cared for her in secret. If she was his dream girl, seeing how heavy and deep her problems were, what did that mean? Or had he always suspected this, her panic attacks from fifth and seventh years so legendary that he had guessed that all of Hannah's light had such a powerful dark undertow?
Hannah's eyes closed. "I'm not hungry," she confessed, "but you had a bad time, with the Death Eaters stuff, and...I'm supposed to take care of you, too." She nestled closer to him. "And I'm a real good cook."