Neville's movements were slow; he didn't know really how truly well he felt about, well, anything. Despite her strict living, he loved his Gran quite a bit. She was the person who'd taken him in and raised him like her own. Her death hurt, a lot; however, it wasn't something she, herself, would've ever allowed to be a hindrance. She would've told him to stop being a baby, and to be strong.
Make her proud. Which he hadn't. He'd failed everyone in the battle, and now he felt truly awful for that. Yet as he entered the green house, he blinked at everything that happened, and watched a butterly die in his hand, to a piece of paper. Staring at it, he smirked and then looked up towards her. Raising a brow.
He began to read the tags a moment, while speaking, "Hannah, what is all this?" Though as he read the tags he began to grab the message. Life would go on, as it always did. Their friendship had bloomed as full as it could be, and now they were beginning the building blocks of their own relationship.
He smiled and looked to her, grinning wide as he came to stop near her, "I think all of this is beautiful."