THREAD Who: Neville and Hannah with a brief apperance by Great Uncle Algie What: A little awkward flirting and light-weights drinking too much. When: Feb. 28; 9 o'clock pm Where: The Leaky Caulderon Rating: PG Warning: If you don't like sickeningly cute, keep out. If you read anyway, keep the bin near by. It's so fluffy, you'll chunk. Complete
Neville stumbled a little dizzily down the steps of the Knight Bus. His Great Uncle Algie trundling after him, bellowing to the conductor about the exotic South American bibwits that he had to fight off. Neville shook his head, laughing softly. Knowing full well there was no such thing. "Come on, Uncle Algie." He said, taking their bags from the attendant and moving toward the front door of the Leaky Cauldron.
It wasn't so very late. Only 9 o'clock or so. But it was still late enough that Neville knew his Gran would be asleep, and he saw no sense in waking her. They could stay the night here, and see her in the morning. And my mother. Neville thought with wonder. He still could scarely believe that his mother was alive once again. And coherent. He was terribly nervous about meeting her.
Finally nudging Algie along, he managed to get the two of them inside the Inn. "Hello?" He called out, attempting to balance their bags along with the Flitterbloom plant he had tucked safely under his arm.
Hannah was sitting at the bar with papers strewn about in front of her. She was chewing some Drooble's Bubblegum and tapping her quill lightly on the bar. She calculated their profits for the week in her head, writing an occasional number on some scrap parchment. It was pretty slow for a Friday night at the Leaky Cauldron. Most of the people staying had gone to their rooms, and the bar had been oddly empty. Tom had gone to bed early, saying that she could take care of everyone else, and close up around ten if she wanted.
She heard a call from the door and set down her quill, slipping off the stool she'd been perched upon. She shook out her hair and straightened her clothes, wanting to look the part of a decent hostess. She walked over with a big smile on her face, but it quickly faded to shock. She hadn't actually talked to Neville since her sixth year. She'd been too shy to speak to him after the Final Battle, and that had been two years ago.
"N-Neville?" she asked. She'd never stuttered before when she wasn't crying. Never. He looked different, yet the same. He'd only grown more handsome, while she looked like the same old Hannah, or maybe it was just her. She looked at herself in the mirror every day and saw the same reflection. She wondered briefly what he saw when he looked at her. Snapping out of her thoughts, she noticed another man and several bags, "Um...do you need a room...or two? We've got the space. S'been slow lately."
Neville had been focusing on keeping everything in his arms when he heard someone say his name. He looked up to find a pretty blonde staring at him in surprise. His cheeks instantly flushed, as he began to wonder if he had potting soil smudged across his face again. But then he remembered that she had said his name, and he looked more closely at her. "Hannah?" He asked, warily, staring to recognize her features. "Hannah Abbot?" His face broke into a relieved smile.
Hannah's cheeks tinged a rosey color when he finally recognized her. She nodded, with a small smile, "Its been a long time. How are you?" she asked, her voice a bit more hopeful than it should have been. He looked happy to see her. That was a good sign. At least he wasn't repulsed by her or something like that. She'd been finding that she thought about him quite a bit after the war. He occupied her thoughts for a long time directly after the battle. He'd been so brave, more courageous than she could ever hope to be.
"We'll be needing two rooms." He said. He loved his Great Unlce, but Algie had a habit of sleep-casting, and Neville didn't really fancy waking up with fur again. Plus he wasn't sure how well he would sleep tonight. Not with this new information about his mother. He smiled at her again, wondering slightly why his stomach was flipping so.
His voice broke her out of her memories yet again, "Alright then. Room Nine and Ten," she recalled two that were closest to the ground floor and still beside one another. She drew her wand and summoned the keys. All the doors were warded against unlocking charms. She handed him the keys with a small smile, and her fingers brushed his hand, sending a warm shock up her arm and making her cheeks flame. She decided that for once, she was going to be brave, "If you want to...once you're settled, you could come down and talk. We're not really busy, so I'm not doing anything...but you don't have to. I mean, if you're too tired then by all means..." she trailed off. Hannah tended to ramble a bit when she was nervous. She looked to her shoes, sure that she was the color of a tomatoe.
Neville had been watching Algie out of the corner of his eyes as he spoke with Hannah. His Great Uncle had been edging closer and closer to the bar and Neville knew from experience that a shot of Firewhiskey and they'd all be in a world of trouble. But when he reached out to take the keys from Hannah, he jerked his full attention back to her. Her hands were soft and warm, and his felt is neck flush. He qickly clutched the keys in his hand and straightened up, hoping she hadn't noticed. He was about to call over to Algie when she spoke up again.
"Really?" He asked in surprise, before he caught himself. "I mean...sure. That would be...that would be lovely. I'll just help Algie get settled, then."
"I'm not a toddler, boy!" Algie snapped, thumping Neville on the back and sending one of the suitcases spinning to the floor. "And if anyone will be helping me settle in, it'll be the blonde! I wouldn't mind her turning the bed down for me." He grinned wickedly and Neville turned so red, he looked almost purple.
"Algie!" He shouted in shock.
"Alright, alright. Give me the keys then." He said grabbing his keys and their bags from his nephew. "Try not to muck it up, eh Neville?" He whispered to him as he grabbed Neville's flowerpot from him. Before Algie dissappeared around the corner to their rooms, he dropped a wink at Neville and laughed to himself, while Neville stood by looking horrified.
Hannah grinned widely, "Yeah? That would be great!" her tone bursting with excitement. She was nearly sure he would think her silly and tell her no.
At 'Algie's' comment, Hannah turned exceedingly red, and her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, but she brushed it off. Neville seemed embarassed...utterly abashed, and she didn't want him to be. He wasn't the one saying things. She watched the Algie go, and her face didn't seem to be burning red anymore.
"Don't worry about it, Neville. I get that all the time in here, more than you'd think. I mean, Regina, one of the waitresses, is absolutely gorgeous and she gets it a lot too. I think I get it because I'm blonde," she sighed, making her tone indifferent, tugging at a piece of her hair, "It's especially bad when they're drunk. That was actually quite mild." She found if you worked at a pub, you were just asking to be exploited.
Slipping the remaining room key into his pocket, Neville looked at Hannah apologetically. "I'm so sorry. He's just..." He looked at the empty space that his uncle had been standing in a few seconds earlier. "Well, there's no excuse for him really. That was actually pretty mild for him as well. He must be tired from the trip." He allowed himself a small grin, he motioned towards one of the tables. "Should we sit?"
Hannah smiled, shrugging a little, "Its not your fault. Don't worry about it," she easily replied. Neville always had been very sweet. She didn't know why he was always so withdrawn in their school years, but she noticed a great change in him during the Final Battle. He'd finally come out of his shell his seventh year, "Yeah."
Once he found himself sitting at the table with Hannah, he tried not to notice just how pretty she had gotten over the last few years. Of course she had always been attractive, but he had never paid much attention to girls while he was at school. He had always been too busy trying to stay up with his coursework. And later on, in the fight against Voldemort. "So." He mumbled, trying not to fidget too much. He wasn't used to this sort of thing. "How long have you been working here?"
Hannah leaned back slightly in her chair. It was nice to sit back after being hunkered over paperwork for hours, "A year and eight months," Hannah answered after a moment, "After the Final Battle, I just needed to get out of the house, and Dad let me get a job. I wasn't allowed to before then, because of Voldemort. I started out as a waitress, but I wasn't really suited for it. I practically run this place. Tom only does the barkeeping now. I take care of almost everything else, down to who is on the pay roll," Hannah loved her job. She got to see a lot of people and most of them were nice, "Tom's been really great, letting me do this. I've been able to get my own flat and everything. I feel like I'm just getting to live now...I've not been in school for nearly four years, but I was basically on home-arrest for two years. It's nice to get out, to see people," Hannah revealed. Her father had been too worried about the Death Eaters after her mother's murder to let her out of the house. If she got out, he went with her. As much as she loved her father, he had nearly smothered her, "What about you, Neville? What have you been up to?" She gave a wide, encouraging smile.
Neville found himself relaxing as Hannah's easy chatter began to fill the empty room. He leaned back a little in his chair, listening to her talk. He smiled when he noticed the way her face brightened as she talked about the Inn. He supposed it was the way his face looked when he was discussing a new plant he had been studying. Feeling more confidant after recieving another of her bright smiles, he leaned forward again. "I've been traveling around with Algie mostly. After the Battle I sort of needed to get away too. Algie's a bit of a world traveller, and offered to let me come with him. We've been all over the place, really. Spain. China. America. We even went to Canada for some reason." He shrugged and laughed softly, feeling his stomach flip again as he noted the way her lips quirked up at the corner when she smiled. "I studied a lot of forgein plantlife," he continued. "And made sure Algie didn't get into too much trouble."
Hannah found herself leaning forward as Neville spoke, sort of like a gravitational pull. What he said sounded fantastic. She'd never gotten to travel very far, not even when she was young, "Wow," she whispered, "You're lucky. Traveling sounds amazing, but I'm really sort of a homebody. I would be homesick a lot, missing my Dad too much. He and I have always been close, but after Mum was killed, he was literally the only person physically in my life. I saw no one but him for two years. Dad and I, we're all each other has,” she knew that everyone was aware of her mother’s death. Not only had it been in the papers, but Neville had been inside of that Herbology building the day she found out. Ernie had told Hannah later, when she was willing to talk about it, that her screams of denial shook everyone up pretty bad, that it chilled them to the core. That was probably the last memory Neville had of her. She didn’t know if he was even aware she’d been at the Final Battle.
Neville's smile faded a little at her words. He flashed back to his sixth year when Hannah had found out her mother had been killed. His thoughts then quickly darted to his own mother, and the news that she was alive at this very moment. He wondered if Hannah's mother would be brought back as well. He hoped so, for her sake. He reached out instinctivly and covered her hand with his own. Then he blushed and pulled his hand away again. "I'm sorry." He mumbled quietly. Not sure if he was apologizing to her about her mother, or the fact that he'd just tried to hold her hand.
Hannah's heart jumped into overdrive when he touched her hand. Her pulse was racing, bringing her face back to a nice pink. He pulled away though, causing Hannah to fight with herself over what he was apologizing for. Was it about her Mum, or touching her? "Again, Neville, don't apologize." She gave him a small smile. The answer would suffice for both questions, she thought. She had coped with her mother's untimely passing, and she was not bothered in the slightest that he had made physical contact. Truth be told, she was a bit thrilled.
"Sorry." Neville apologized again. Then he realized he had just apologized for apologizing. He hung his head a little, and smiled. "I'm a bit hopeless, aren't I?"
Hannah laughed. It felt like the first real laugh she'd had in a long time, maybe since before her Mum died. All the others didn't make her sides ache, they didn't make her feel any form of release, "You're not hopeless, Nev." she told him, her laughter fading, but a large smile still in place, "You just care a lot. That's not a bad thing at all."
Neville began laughing along with her. He couldn't help it, her laughter really was infectious. And he found a pleasant tingling along his skin when she called him Nev. "Oh, I'm not hopeless, am I? Well that's just because you never saw me in Potions class."
She grinned, "Well, then I must be hopeless as well, because Potions was absolutely dreadful for me. I spent most of the classes trying to figure out what I'd done wrong in the first few steps. I can't tell you how many cauldrons I had to buy, because I'd messed up so horribly that they just weren't good anymore." The Practical Potions exam was one thing that she knew she wasn't going to pass when she was in her fifth year. She just wasn't good at it. She'd managed to scrape an Acceptable, all because of the written exam. She had the know how, but not the skill.
Neville laughed again. "You know I once melted the bottom clean out of my caulderon? Everyone had to stand on chairs so it wouldn't melt through their shoes. I'm afraid the Slytherins never let me forget that one." He grinned. He could look back on the Slytherins now without caring. Sure there was a time they had made his life miserable. Malfoy especially. But he had seen the way they had all run the night of the battle, and never looked at them the same way again. When he brought his thoughts back around to the present, he noticed Hannah leaning in towards him, her smile and eyes bright. His mouth went dry and he had to work to remove his tounge from the top of his mouth. "Do you have anything to drink?" He asked her suddenly.
Hannah leaned back a little grinning, “Nev, this is a pub. Of course I’ve got something to drink. The question is, alcoholic or non-alcoholic. I’ve got all the usuals. Butterbeer, fire whiskey, vodka, rum, sodas...take your pick. It's on me, because Tom will never know,” she told him with a little wink, “I also take care of inventory,” she informed him, standing and walking back behind the bar, pulling out two glasses. She wasn't going to let him drink alone, “What will we be having?”
Normally Neville just would have taken a Butterbeer, but something about the way Hannah kept smiling at him, made him think that he might needs something a little stronger tonight. "Oh...I...um..." He stumbled over his words as she grinned cheekily at him from behind the bar. "Some vodka, then?" It seemed the safest choice. He knew he didn't like Firewhiskey much. Algie had forced him to have a drink or two in their travels together. And his Gran used to drink Sherry. But he didn't like that either. Of course he hadn't ever really tried vodka. But it couldn't go to his head that quickly, could it?
Hannah pulled out the almost full bottle of vodka and poured a little in both glasses. Most of the magical folk generally went with the fire whiskey or Butterbeer, but she could take a bit of Vodka now and then. She set the bottle on the counter and carried both glasses back to the table. She took a little drink and wrinkled her nose at the bite. The first sip always burned, but it wasn’t awful, “I never put you down for Vodka, but its not a bad choice. I think the Rum is too spicy, but it’s the bite of the Vodka that can get to you.” She mused, swirling the drink a little. It made her sound like an alcoholic, but in truth, she rarely drank at all.
Neville looked at the drink in his hand, then at Hannah's wrinkled nose after her first sip. Perhaps he had made the wrong choice? Well, he wasn't going to very well admit that he didn't drink it now. Take a deep breath, he said. "Oh, well. I tried some when we were back in...um...." He tried to remember what country was famous for vodka. "Russia!" He said triumphantly before throwing the drink back and swallowing it in one gulp. As the alcohol burned it's way down his throat, he coughed and sputtered for a few moments, before looking at Hannah and managing a weak. "Mmm."
Hannah laughed again, shaking her head, “Take it slow,” she advised, looking at him curiously, “You okay?” Obviously, he’d never had Vodka before. She’d never known anyone to throw it all back immediately, or maybe it was just her. She took another sip, this time with no obvious reaction, “Want more, or do you want to switch?” A small smile quirked her lips, this was certainly not the evening she’d had in mind when the clock had struck nine, but these plans were far better.
Neville flushed as Hannah laughed. But found that it wasn't entirely due to embarassment. The Vodka took effect quite quickly, and he was already starting to feel quite warm. Although, that might not have been all of his drink's doing either. He smiled at Hannah, and tried to straighten himself back up again. "No, the Vodka is fine." He grinned sheepishly, silently thanking her for not saying more about his embarassing display. He stood up. "I'll get it." He said to her before moving back to the bar to get the bottle. He poured a little more into his glass, and after a moment's deliberation, brought the bottle back to the table with them. He set it down between them, and then slowly took another sip of the drink. He smiled a bit proudly when he didn't sputter or make a face at its taste.
She watched him go to get more, and then monitored his expression as he took another drink. Hannah grinned again when he didn’t make any faces. She topped hers off and grabbed the bottle again, already starting to feel the effects. She would probably end up sleeping here tonight and trying to get home in the morning to change and sober up before work. It didn’t take much to make her a bit tipsy, “Drinking is always better when you’re doing it with someone else,” she commented without a thought. The filter on what she thought and what came out of her mouth was quickly deteriorating.
Neville smiled widley. "The only person I've ever had a drink with is Uncle Algie. And you're much better company." He marveled at the drink in his hand for a moment. Wondering if it was in fact, magical. Nothing had ever loosened his tounge quite so quickly before. He took a large sip from his glass, again managing to keep a straight face. He felt warm and happy, and found himself trying to think of ways to move his chair closer to Hannah's.
Hannah giggled ridiculously, “Glad to know that I’m better company than your Uncle. He seems like a lively fellow, but he’s probably frisky drunk. I don’t think I would like being drunk with him,” she mused, taking another large drink, “I think being drunk with you is brilliant though. I mean, you’re great company,” Hannah barely restrained herself from saying that she’d been thinking about him for the last two years. Being drunk really didn’t suit her, but she wasn’t in any state to deny the bottle in front of her now.
"Frisky isn't even the half of it." He found himself more prone to talking with the help of the drinks. Picking up the bottle, he filled their glasses again. "One time he drank way too much and mistook me for the barmaid. I don't think I've ever recovered from that." He raised his glass a little sloppily and clinked against hers. "Cheers." He said.
Hannah couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Neville's Uncle thinking he was the barmaid, "Cheers," She managed to giggle out. That was probably entertaining, considering the way he had flirted with Hannah less than an hour ago. Hannah grinned to herself and took another sip, "Yes, well, guys around here try to get frisky when they're pissed, if you know what I mean. Its rather interesting to hear some of the things those blokes think will get me in bed. They're just not my type," she leaned forward, as she told him this, touching his hand, her voice unintentionally seductive.
Neville jerked a little at Hannah's touch. Much as he had been thinking about it, he hadn't exactly been expecting it to happen. His hand went rouge as he flailed, knocking over the bottle of Vodka. A quarter of the bottle spilled directly into his lap before he could right it again. Neville stood up quickly, letting out an oddly timed giggle or two. "Bollocks. I should go change." He had an odd grin on his face, desperately hoping that Hannah wouldn't take his reaction the wrong way. Then he turned to find his room, and found that he couldn't quite make out the room numbers on the doors through his haze of alcohol.
Hannah found herself to be an extremely giggly drunk, "Here, I'll find your room for you," she offered, as if it was hiding and he couldn't find it. She passed Neville, tripping slightly on the stairs, but catching herself quickly, "S'this one," she slurred, after a moment, knowing the right room without even needed the numbers. Algie had taken room ten, so she'd led him directly to room Nine. She squinted her eyes and the blurry version of a '9' came up in her vision, "Yup, s'this one." She let a little giggle escape at the thought of a hotel room and Neville and her, with their Vodka.
"Right." Neville said, determined to get the door open without further incident. It took him a coulple tries to get the key into the lock. An act that was hindered by Hannah's giggles making him laugh. At last he got the door open and stumbled into the room. A lamp was lit on the bedside table, so thankfully he didn't have to fumble for a light. Still, the room was spinning a bit, and he found himself flopping down on the bed, forgetting about the need to change his wet trousers. Without thinking he reached out and grabbed ahold of Hannah's wrist, pulling her down beside him. "We need more drins." He said thickly, searching for his wand to summon the bottle.
Hannah flopped onto the bed beside Neville quite ungracefully. She buried her face in the covers to hide more giggles as the bottle came flying into the room, the remaining vodka sloshing around. She reached out and grabbed it, taking a small swig directly from the bottle before offering to Neville. She sighed with a chuckle and rolled onto her back, her blonde hair fanning out over the bed. She closed her eyes, and she could swear she heard Neville take another drink or two, “I’ve dreamed of this,” she whispered without thinking. She didn’t mean getting completely wasted with Neville, but to be in the same room as him, feeling completely unhindered...laying on the same bed, even just talking with him.
Neville took another few swallows from the bottle. It was over half-way empty at this point, and it was clear that neither he nor Hannah were very good at holding their liquor. "Last night I dreamed that my toad Trevor was doing the can-can." He fell backward and lay on his back next to Hannah. Then her actual words sunk in and he felt quite stupid. He sat up to quickly and the room started to spin wildly. He decided it would be best if he stayed laying down. Setting the bottle on the night-table, he moved to lie back down. But Hannah's words and half a bottle of Vodka had started to embolden him. Instead of lying on his back again, he turned to the side and moved to kiss her.
That is, until the arm he was propping himself up with gave way and he ended up sliding halfway off the bed. Groaning with embarassment, Neville buried his face in the blankets and refused to look up again.
Hannah couldn't believe what had just happened, yet she knew it had. That warm feeling from the alcohol got even warmer and she began feeling very fuzzy. She was feeling extremely brave. She gave a small giggle of mischeviousness and moved over, gently making Neville lift his head, "I believe you missed," she said with a giggle and a small hum. Then, she kissed him right on the lips. Even drunk, she knew that this kiss was something special.