Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Meet the Longbottom's

It had happened rather quickly. The war had ended, people were in mourning but life still went on somehow. Relationships started to grow like flowers being tended to by those all around in hope of repopulating the Wizarding World and bringing happiness to those who deserved it.

"Oh! Stop hopping around like an animal. Neville, you act like she's never been here before. I feel like she lives here—"

"Gran," Neville responded with an exasperated sigh, giving her a sharp look that clearly said he was not amused. "Please, for me, will you play nice tonight?" he asked.

Augusta, wearing forest green dress robes and a medium sized brown colored hat with a black feather poking out of the center, eyed her grandson with annoyance but nodded her head in agreement. Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief as she placed a third plate on the dinner table.

"Oh, I always play nice."

Neville bit the inside of his cheek and didn't say anything. He nervously made sure the dinner table was set, examining a silver spoon for water spots. It looked normal enough to him. He had begged Augusta to cover the table with a crème colored cloth to hide the dents of the old wooden table that wobbled just a tiny bit if you had nothing on top of it. He had also convinced her to use her good china (a gift she had received for her wedding many moons ago that was decorated with small blue flowers).

Nervously, Neville tucked his orange button down shirt into his black trousers and then smoothed down his dirty blonde hair with one hand while taking the cover off of the man dish, a roasted chicken, to make sure his Gran hadn't decided to keep it half-alive to startle Hannah again.

She had an odd sense of humor.

"Gran, this is important to me," he said, placing the cover back on the food. "We've been dating for four months now and it's serious—"

Augusta rolled her eyes and then licked her thumb, rubbing Neville's forehead with it, trying to remove some dirt from his face. "Of course it is. Of course it is," she mumbled sarcastically.

It wasn't that she didn't like Hannah. She liked her enough. It was more that her grandson, her only grandson had just turned twenty and seemed to think he knew everything there was to know about relationships.

"Gran," he groaned, smacking her hand away, "stop treating me like I'm some child—"

She cut him off again with a slight tut, smoothing a wrinkle out of his shirt. "Now, now, have you fed Trevor?"

He turned red in response and shook his head with embarrassment, whispering to himself, "Bloody hell, that damn toad."

"Neville! Language!" Augusta chastised, wagging a thick finger in his face. "I'll stop treating you like a child when you start taking care of your toad." She wanted to add 'and start doing the wash,' but she figured that would lead to a whole other argument.

Neville took a deep breath and angrily grabbed the chair that was next to him, pulling it out and enjoying the scraping sound it made on the wooden floor. He tiredly plopped down on the chair and stuck his hands through his short hair. Tiredly, he whispered, "Grandmother."

Augusta paused. Neville had never called her grandmother. It was Gran, always had been and always would be. She eyed him apologetically and pulled back the chair opposite of him, taking a seat at the table and reaching her hands out towards him.

"Talk to your Gran," she said softly.

"I love her," he admitted with pink cheeks.

Augusta paused again, not sure what to say. That wasn't what she was expecting. She knew her grandson was enamored with Hannah. She listened to him go on and on about her so-called 'shiny' blonde hair and could poetically rattle off everything he liked about Hannah from her head down to her little toes.

"Well then," she answered gruffly, trying to hide the mixture of surprise and sadness in her voice. As much as she tried to pretend her grandson was a child, he was in reality almost a man. "You better change that shirt of yours then. Orange is a terrible color on you."

Neville grinned and leaned forward, squeezing her hand quickly." Thank you, Gran. This conversation isn't exactly over—"

Before he could continue there was a loud knock at the door. He rushed off towards his bedroom, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt while Augusta teetered off towards the door as fast as her old legs would let her.

There was an awkward silence as the three sat at the dinner table. All that could be heard was the mad cutting of chicken and potatoes. Neville was sweating next to Hannah in a light blue button down shirt. She had to keep pouring him some water; nervous he was going to pass out at any moment. Augusta sat back in her chair, amused by the matching blue couple.

"How's Tom?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood and start an actual dinner conversation.

Hannah smiled shyly. She had always been uncomfortable around Augusta who liked to drill her with question after question.

"He's fine. Mrs. Longbottom—"

"Don't be silly. Call me Augusta."

Hannah smiled wider, blue eyes sparkling with happiness and surprise. "The Leaky is doing well. We're in the process of getting some new tables. They're really going to spruce up the place. Dinner is delicious by the way, Augusta," she liked the way the name rolled off of her tongue. It signified acceptance by the person that meant the most to Neville. "The table setting is lovely. Is that a new shirt, Neville?" she asked, giving him a sideways glance. "You look handsome."

Neville gave his Gran a wink, ears turning red at the compliment.

"Oh!" Hannah exclaimed with excitement, throwing her hands in the air. "Speaking of the Leaky, Ernie came round today. He's throwing himself a party and he wanted me to invite you. He's turning twenty—"

Augusta's eyes flashed with excitement but Neville cut in before she could say anything. "Twenty," he said with a chuckle, "we're all getting old."

Augusta scoffed. "Twenty is old now? Well, I must be ancient then. I'm already dangling in my grave. I can see the light more than ever," she said airily. Neville and Hannah squirmed in their seats but Augusta plowed on, oblivious to their discomfort. "And I still don't have any great-grandchildren."

Neville managed to squeak out, "Gran!" Cheeks colored, he felt Hannah's eyes on him and he looked down at his plate of chicken and potatoes, suddenly feeling very nauseous. His Gran would be the end to his relationship.

She ignored him and eyed Hannah sweetly. "Do you want children, Hannah?"

Hannah gulped, averting her eyes from the old woman's and wringing her hands in her white dinner napkin. "I—" she stammered.

"Don't answer that," Neville grumbled darkly. "Gran, can I talk to you in the kitchen?"

"It's rude to leave your guest at the dinner table," she chastised. "Acts like I never taught him any manners. I'm sorry Hannah, you were saying, children?"

Hannah gulped. "I…well…yes." It suddenly felt very hot in the dining room. She reached for her glass of water and noisily swallowed the contents. She wondered if she slid down in her seat and stayed really quiet if the two would forget she was even there.

Augusta's eyes twinkled mischievously as she asked, "Now, do you have a very fertile family?"

Neville coughed, choking on his water. Hannah smacked his back for him and he eyed his grandmother with horror.

"That is not proper dinner conversation," he coughed out.

"I was only joking," she said, not bothering to conceal her amused grin. "I can make jokes at my old age. I haven't gone senile just yet."

"We've only been dating for four months," he muttered. He turned his head to Hannah who was pretending she was invisible in her sky blue dress. "I'm sorry. She just gets…like that sometimes. You should hear what she says when you aren't around." Hannah's eyes popped open wide from shock and Augusta snorted in her seat. "Not that she says bad things about you when you're not around but…" Neville stumbled to find the correct words to fix his flub.

"I understand," she said with a laugh.

Neville sighed and swiped his sweating face with his dinner napkin. "So…this is a big day," he began awkwardly. He knew the topic he was going to bring up next was going to either make or break dinner. "Our four month anniversary."

Hannah grinned and reached her hand towards his sweaty one underneath the table. Neville sighed with relief when he noticed she didn't pull away.

"It is," Hannah agreed lightly.

Neville shifted in his chair so he could have half of his body facing Hannah while the other half of him faced Augusta for moral support.

"I…wanted Gran here because, well, Hannah…I…"

Augusta cursed in her head. She hoped that Neville wasn't going to do what she thought he was. Telling his girlfriend that he was in love with her for the first time in front of her? Well, she braced herself to make comfort tea for him later.

"Oh dear," she whispered to herself, sucking her teeth.

Hannah stared excitedly at Neville, waiting anxiously for what was to come.

"I wanted to know…if you would…meet my p-parents."

Her hand detached from his and she shook slightly in her seat. Her face that was once rosy and red was now a pale white and she stared at him, shock evident in her big blue eyes.

"What?" she questioned, unsure of what had just happened. She could barely hear her own voice above the beating drum in her chest.

Neville's face fell. "My…my…parents, they're well…you know…"

"Oh Neville," Augusta said, giving him a heartfelt look.

"There's no pressure. You don't have to answer me right away and it doesn't have to be soon but—"

Hannah pursed her lips and then slowly nodded her head, nervousness filling her entire body. "I'd love to."

Both Augusta and Neville relaxed in their seats, small smiles on their faces. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, her own sweating hand gripping his again. "Positive. When are visiting hours?"

Hannah was nervous. She kept fidgeting with a strand of her blonde hair and pursing her dried pink lips together as she walked next to Neville, down a corridor in St. Mungo's. They hadn't even finished dinner. Augusta had rushed the two of them off, more chipper than ever. Hannah had barely been able to wrap her head around everything. Before she knew it, Neville had grabbed her hand and they appeared in the white corridors of St. Mungo's.

She didn't know if there were any rules or precautions she was supposed to take. Did she go right up to his parents? Did she talk to them directly? Did Neville?

He had never talked about his parents to Hannah. It was just known, once the war was over and the papers came out with a frenzy of interviews on the back-stories of all the heroes, that Neville Longbottom parents were Aurors who were driven insane from torture.

She didn't know the entire story or the real story of what had happened and she had never asked. Hannah knew what it was like to lose a parent and couldn't imagine how hard it was to lose two. After her own mother was killed she barely left her father's side.

They walked quietly down the bright white corridor, passing several Healers in lime green robes. The Healers ignored them as they approached two white doors that read, 'St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.'

Hannah gulped and shakily followed Neville through the doors. She kept her hand that was closest to him tucked inside the pocket of her dress, not wanting him to know how nervous she truly was.

She didn't understand how he could be so calm about this. His eyes targeted an open doorway and he paused, waiting for Hannah to join him.

"If you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to go in," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"No worries," she managed to whisper, tugging at a piece of her hair and then nervously smoothing down her dress.

"Just...let me go in first."

Hannah nodded as she slowly watched Neville enter the room. She nosily peered her head inside and watched as he walked towards two people who were sitting in chairs, unmoving. She couldn't see their faces from where she was standing but noticed one was a man and the other was a woman, both with grey hair.

Neville quietly dragged two chairs in front of the couple and then sat down on one. He seemed to be struggling with what to say as Hannah watched from afar.

His hands reached out and gently caressed the woman's.

"Mum, how are you?" he asked, waiting a few seconds to see if he could get a reaction. Hannah didn't hear a response and her heart fell as Neville's usually bright eyes painfully stared at his mother. "Dad, you're looking well. I…brought someone here to meet you. Remember that girl I keep telling you about…yeah Mum, that one."

Hannah's heart ached as Neville continued on with the conversation, trying to fill in the blanks, pretending that his parents were speaking to him.

"I told you I would bring her to you one day. I never break my promises, do I? Promise me you'll be nice to her?" He asked the two, voice cracking slightly. "She means a lot to me and I think Gran has scared her enough." He chuckled to himself and patted his father's thin leg as if he too was in on the joke. "Yes Dad, I agree. She keeps getting worse with age but don't tell her I said that to you. Might have to put a silencing spell on her. Just hold on, alright? I'm going to bring her in. Try not to get too excited."

Neville walked quickly to Hannah who grabbed his outreached hand and slowly led her towards his parents. Her heart was beating in her chest like a woodpecker pecking at a tree. As she sat down in front of his father, a wave of emotion crashed over her.

He looked so old. Much older than her father who she was certain was a few years older than him. His eyes were glassy, hair dull and grey. If she didn't know any better she would have guessed that the man sitting before her was actually Neville's grandfather and not his father.

It hurt her more to see his mother. Though her eyes were glassy and far away like her husband's and her hair too was grey, her face was round just like Neville's. Her eyes reminded Hannah of the lifeless porcelain dolls she used to see in the shop windows with her mum.

"Hannah, this is my mum, Alice and my father, Frank. Mum, Dad, this is Hannah."

Hannah didn't know what to say. She sat up straight as if she was being examined and then hesitantly reached her hand out, touching Alice's wrinkled one.

"Hello…Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom. How are you?" Hannah paused for a moment as if she was listening to a response from the two. "Oh! Mr. Longbottom, I can see where Neville gets his good looks."

She grinned as Neville squeezed her shoulder lovingly and sighed, all tension leaving him. His face relaxed and he smiled at his father, unable to hide his excitement.

"I think he liked that one. Ever the charmer, right Dad? He'd like it if you call him Frank. Mr. Longbottom makes him feel old. What's that mum? She's beautiful? I think so too."

Hannah blushed and let her free hand graze his knee, sending chills up and down Neville's spine. "Thank you. I'm flattered," she said honestly. "I swear I'm not always this red. I'm just nervous to meet the both of you. Neville means a lot to me. These past four months have flown by…"

Neville grinned, scooting closer to Hannah as he listened to her soft voice tell his mum about the moments they shared together.

"Bye Mum, bye Dad. I'll visit again soon," promised Neville. He got up from his chair and quickly gave his father's shoulder a squeeze and then kissed his mother's cheek gently as if he was afraid he would break her.

Hannah followed his actions, giving both Frank and Alice a soft kiss on the cheek. "We'll visit again soon," she said. Her eyes found Neville's, trying to gauge his reaction.

He said nothing as they walked out of the room, both of them discreetly turning back to see if either of his parents moved. They didn't. Neville sulkily led Hannah down the white corridor again, his once happy mood diminished.

"I'm sorry if that was weird for you," he apologized quietly. "Once I got older I started to pretend they understood what I'm saying and I'd know what they say too."

She shook her head defiantly, a sullen look on her face. "It wasn't…will they ever be able…have you ever brought anyone to meet them before?" she asked, struggling to find the appropriate question to ask.

Neville shook his head and shrugged. "No. It's hard enough going with Gran. There's no cure for madness," he said bitterly.

Hannah sighed. "Neville—"

"Don't," he commanded, creating distance between them. "Please. You're giving me the look that everyone gives me when they find out about my parents. I know I don't talk about them but everyone knows. I don't need pity. They're still there. I don't care what everyone else says. They're still there."

His voice broke towards the end and he coughed, trying to keep his composure.

At first, Hannah didn't say anything. She closed the gap between them and grabbed both of his hands, staring up at him. "I was going to say I think they're wonderful," his eyes shimmered with hope as he listened to what she had to say, "and they are so lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you and I would love to get to know them some more."

"Thank you," he whispered, letting her hands go and pulling her into a hug.

"I love you," Hannah whispered, voice muffled slightly as she placed her head on his chest. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart and was certain the pace matched her own.

He squeezed her tighter and placed a soft kiss on top of her head. "I love you too, Hannah."

They stayed hugging under the fluorescent lighting of St. Mungo's for a few more minutes, Healers quietly passing them every few seconds but not paying them any mind.

Neville knew deep inside that his parents, even though they couldn't recognize him and would never feel an emotional connection to Hannah, would have loved her as much as he did.

Author's Note: I love Neville/Hannah. Big thanks to Lizmusic16 for creating the 'OTP' challenge. I don't think I would have written this without the inspiration for that challenge. Don't forget to review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Final Edit: 26 July 2012.