InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Winchester, jumbo-sized."

Hannah Abbott (sunny_grace) wrote in the_8th_floor,
@ 2012-03-13 16:22:00

Entry tags:

hannah longbottom, neville longbottom

Who: Neville & Hannah
What: The Talk
When: Backdated to the day after their journal conversation
Where: Their apartment
Rating: PG
Status: Closed/Incomplete

Hannah's key turned in the door as it always did and she pushed the door open. It was strange coming back. The familiar smells of the apartment met her as she set her bag on a chair and walked in. She was sure Neville was still at work, time enough to make herself situated again. It was strange to feel so foreign to her own home, but she knew it was her own fault. She had stayed away after the chocolate debacle and then with Justin's tragedy...well, they had all been excuses. She had been afraid for so much of it that she had kept herself away.

But she missed Neville more than anything else and wanted to finally work everything out. She knew what her friends were saying was true; this needed to be worked out. She had to fight through her fears and hope that Neville still felt the same way about her.

While she waited for Neville to return home, she cleaned. It was easy to get lost in the movements and normality of chores and she soon had the place aired out and cleaned. She had a comfort dinner cooking, although there wasn't much in the house. She would need to go out and get some groceries the next day. She enjoyed pretending things could just go back to normal like this. She sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in her hands and a distant look on her face. It all felt so familiar. When she had a night off, she would sit like this, waiting for Neville to walk through the door or send her an owl, telling her he would be late at the office. She hoped tonight would be the night he would walk through the door. She sipped at her tea, wondering if he would be surprised to see her. Would she see relief or disappointment on his face?

She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind of anything negative. If she stayed positive, things could only go up from there.

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theotherboy
2012-03-14 04:57 am UTC (link)

There was just enough familiarity in what Neville did at work that he didn't have to really think--about anything--as he went through the days. Work, come home, eat whatever was around, sleep. Wake and repeat. It was scary how quickly he fell back into the routine of a bachelor, how quickly he let things go at the flat.

He was looking forward to seeing her again, and at the same time he wasn't. Even though much of their conversation was tainted by those bloody chocolates--there had to be some truth behind it, didn't there? Was she really tired of how often he was gone, even if he was doing it in the name of something he believed in? Never mind the fact that he himself was ready to sign off the whole damn job. He'd done what he could to tie up the loose ends of the war; he wasn't Harry. He wasn't made to chase after the bad guys, it didn't motivate him in the same ways. Bellatrix Lestrange was dead, his parents were avenged (even if it wasn't by his hand); Voldemort had fallen. Everything his Auror parents had lived and died for was accomplished. Maybe it was time to cut and run at the Ministry.

He came home, a little earlier than normal but not much, utterly exhausted and ready to just sleep. But the door was unlocked--ah, yes, Hannah was coming over. And if he was right with how this would go, he doubted he'd be able to fully relax and get to sleep early that night.

He dropped his bag at the door before going to wash his hands, unsure what to say to her. "Sorry--I know things were a right mess. You didn't have to clean up after me."

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sunny_grace
2012-03-14 09:39 am UTC (link)

Her eyes snapped open as she heard his key rattle in the lock before he realized it was already opened. When he pushed open the door, she stood up, her hands clasped in front of her. Just the sight of him was enough to make her heart flutter, but he seemed more preoccupied with washing up. Still, she didn't say anything, just watched as he moved about the apartment.

"No, it's alright," she said, her voice a little soft. She cleared her throat, taking a step towards him, but stopping. Her hands rested on the back of her chair, grasping it in her hands. "It was something to do while I waited for you. You know, idle hands and all that..." It was the beginning of a ramble and she didn't want that. "I made dinner," she offered, gesturing towards the oven. "Just something small, but in case you were hungry...I could do something else if you'd like? If you're hungry..." Really, she just wanted to rush over and hug him. She wanted to remember what it was like to be held by him and to have everything worked out through that single action.

If only.

"How was your day?"

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