neville longbottom (longbottom) wrote in caged, @ 2013-08-13 22:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | [ backstory ], [ log ], hannah abbott, neville longbottom |
WHO: Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom
WHEN: November 2nd, 1996
WHERE: Greenhouses
SUMMARY: Neville's offer
RATING: PG
STATUS: Completed Log
She hadn't known how it would be in Herbology. Of all the things Hannah had dreaded most about coming back to Hogwarts, this was one of them. She hadn't wanted to come back, not yet. She didn't want to leave her father on his lonesome at home with nobody to care for him. Eve had gone back to Egypt, Otto had his own life. "I'll be fine," he'd said. "You need your friends, you need structure. It's time to go back." And so Hannah had returned to Hogwarts yesterday. She had already withstood the whispers in the hallways as she walked to her classes and toward her meals. There were unspoken questions in the eyes of students in the common room. And there was the delicacy in which the professors spoke to her. Hannah felt like it was all dragging her down, making things worse. It was good to be around her friends, but even they were treating her somewhat like she was made of china. The Herbology lesson had ended. No professors had halted the class to pull her out. That had been her biggest fear. And now it was time to go on to divination and pray that she didn't come up with the grim. She packed her bag slowly, nodding to Justin that he should go on without her. She wanted to take her time. Though the circumstances of Hannah's mother's death were much different from the circumstances of his mother's addled brain, Neville knew what it was like to be in Hannah's shoes. To an extent, at least. Not a week went by where he didn't remember with burning cheeks the time he came across Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny at St Mungo's, when his Gran proudly told them the secret he'd tried so hard to keep from people and Neville wondered how hard it would be to will the floor to swallow him whole. It had never been about shame for Neville. He wasn't ashamed of his parents at all. It was about how people treated a person after finding out something like that. He was already a laughingstock. He didn't want to be pitiful too. For Hannah it was different. Neville knew that. Everyone knew everything and he knew how the students at Hogwarts processed information. Openly and without consideration for the subject of the day's new gossip. So he'd tried not to look at Hannah, though he'd been painfully aware of her presence all day. The whole thing made him feel something oppressive that made his chest feel tight. It made him angry, but it made him sad. He hated that it kept happening and he hated that he had no idea what to do or say to help. "Hannah," Neville said suddenly from his seat. He hadn't been looking at her. Instead, he'd kept his focus firmly on his bag as she packed her things. But now he was looking at her. Except he had no idea what to say. She was just about to leave, just about to walk into the sea of stares in the hallway as she walked to her next class, wondering if the Treweleany would say something insensitive about her mother's death or not. Neville's voice caught her off guard as she latched her bag. She turned to face him, the last of the other students filing out of the room out of the corner of her eye. She hadn't realized he was still sitting there, and she wondered if he was waiting to talk to Professor Sprout. But he'd said her name. "Hi, Neville," she said, putting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "How are you?" She knew there was a very real chance he was going to talk to her about her mother, and she didn't know if she didn't want him to say anything or not. In the fuzziness of her mourning mind she could remember that he'd grown up with his gran. Like all of Hannah's friends, she'd always assumed he was an orphan. Neville just shrugged and pressed his lips together in an awkward half-smile as he pushed his stool back to make his way over to her. He thought about asking her the same question, but he had a feeling it would sound like a pretty stupid question if he said it aloud. Once he was standing before her and the right thing to say hadn't come to him yet, he fiddled with the strap of his own bag and looked down at his feet. "Um, I just wanted to let you know that if you need any help with what you missed in Herbology," he said after a long moment, glancing up at her from his feet, "I'm happy to help catch you up. I mean, I'm sure --" He was about to start rambling about her friends and how he was sure they'd already helped her, but he was fairly certain that rambling about how pointless his offer was wasn't the right thing to say. "I'm sure you don't need it, but I thought I'd offer anyway." She did have friends in Herbology who could have helped her catch up, but something about his offer made Hannah give him a half-hearted smile. She'd been one of the girls who had giggled at Neville's awkwardness when they were younger. She'd denied him her company when the Yule Ball had come around. But they were both changing. He wasn't as awkward, she wasn't really interested in laughing at people who didn't fit in. She felt sorry for treating him like that when they were younger. Even in the midst of all her pain, she still felt sorry about that and she regretted it. "Thanks," she said softly. She took a step closer to him. "Really. Well--Yeah. If you don't mind. Justin's offered but you know how he is, he's not exactly Sprout's star pupil. But you're best at it. If you really don't mind, that is. I'm pretty far behind now." Maybe Neville wasn't as awkward as he used to be, but being complimented made him duck his head and his free hand quickly found the back of his hair. He grinned up at her, though, his cheeks a little pink. He was glad she'd said yes and glad he'd stumbled across the right gesture to make her life go a little smoother and really just glad he'd been able to make a gesture at all. "I don't mind at all," he said in a tone dripping with earnestness. "Just let me know when you're free and I'll make time. And a copy of my notes." He hefted his bag up on his shoulder a little. His reaction made her smile a little warmer, but then her mouth faltered. It felt odd to smile since her mother died. There was a part of her that felt as though she wasn't sorry enough to have lost her mother if she was able to smile. And yet there was another part of her that knew her mother would want her to be happy. Both parts were at war with each other and sometimes Hannah didn't know which part was going to win. "I'm free Tuesday afternoons," she said with an edge of dullness. "If that fits your schedule." Hannah closed her eyes tight for a moment and then forced a smile when she opened them. His smile quickly faded and he dropped his hand to his side, his mouth twisting into something a little more unreadable. He wondered what he'd said wrong or if she'd changed her mind about accepting his offer. But he didn't ask. He just stood there, feeling suddenly useless. "Um, yeah, Tuesday's fine with me," he answered after mentally running through his schedule. He was pretty sure he didn't have anything Tuesday afternoons, but paranoia had him rummaging through his bag for his calendar to double check. He flipped through to November and found Tuesdays blissfully blank. "Yeah, Tuesday's great. We can just meet out here. Or well, greenhouse three actually. That's where everything we went over is now." Hannah took a deep breath. She wondered if he thought she was acting that way--his body language shifting so thoroughly--because of him. It was silly of him to think so, but even if Hannah couldn't decide if she wanted to be happy or sad, she still didn't want him to feel as though he had done something wrong. "Neville, um," she started again. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Well." She looked at him directly in the eye. "You know." "Yeah," he said, his shoulders sagging a little, "I know." To his credit, though he felt painfully awkward for making her even vaguely mention her mother, he didn't look away from Hannah. He didn't avert his eyes to the ceiling or look down at his feet. "But you don't have to be sorry. I just want to help somehow." He smiled again, but his cheeks were tight. She felt bad for mentioning his mother when his shoulders sagged. Her mouth went dry and she adjusted her bag one last time, walking over to him and brushing her hand over his shoulder. "Thanks," she said. "It'll help a lot." "You're welcome," he said, reciprocating her brief touch with one of his own as he brushed his fingertips against the side of her arm. His smile grew easier in a matter of seconds and he shifted his bag on his shoulder as well. His other hand found his hair again and he quickly ran his fingers through it before letting it fall back to his side. "Well, I guess we'd better head to Divination," he added a moment later. "I'd hate for Trelawney to decide to predict things about us all class because we're late." "Yeah, we should," Hannah agreed. She was hoping to keep out of the professor's attention during the whole of the class, so Neville's suggestion made her feel a little extra nervous. "I think I'll sit in the back this time. Are we still going over favomancy?" She headed out the door, walking slow enough to let Neville know she expected to walk with him to class. "We've moved on to spodomancy. It's been messy," he said, turning to close the door behind them. Though he'd been at Hogwarts for nearly five and a half years, it still never failed to surprise him when people outside of Gryffindor or even outside his small group of close friends wanted to spend time with him. So when he turned back from the door and saw Hannah pacing herself to walk with him his chest clenched and he grinned at her. |