Neville left the apothecary, shoving the new order list into his satchel. His knuckles knocked against the familiar rounded pods which today contained Padma's bonsai trees, and against the sharper corners of a small box which brought a secretive and very happy smile to his lips.
Walking down the high street he saw Madam Rosmerta outside her pub and he waved awkwardly at her. She was one of those people who was well known to Neville, but not actually a friend. He blushed slightly at her acknowledgment of him, and pushed open the door to Padma's bookshop.
"Hi, Padma," he said cheerfully to the young woman, who was very quickly becoming more a genuine friend than a school and wartime acquaintance.