The Forgotten 7th Year

Easter With Hannah

Neville's POV

Gran wasn't too happy I was going to go visit Hannah. Eventually she relented, but before I disapparated, I had to endure another lecture on proper ways to express affection.

Such as not holding her hand in public and looking her in the eyes, and never, under no circumstances anywhere else. Gran also said kissing her on the cheek should be a three to four month dating thing. 

By the end I was thoroughly uncomfortable, beet red, and had already broken 90% of her rules.

After what quite possibly could have been years, she finally let me go.

I suddenly felt exited as I walked outside and disapparated. I couldn't tell if it was nerves or creating a rift in the universe that tied my stomach in knots, and compressed my lungs.

Even though my mind was scattered, somehow I found the focus not to splinch myself, and arrived at the farmhouse unscathed. And if I'd thought it was beautiful in the winter, the spring was something else.

Instead of dead, barren fields, a tractor moved along slowly planting seeds. And the green woods rang with birdsong.

I slowly walked up to the house. Despite the new life practically bursting around me, it seemed almost forlorn.

The windows were shut, the curtains drawn. Nothing was out on the yard, or untidy in any way. I walked up to the house, and rattled the doorknob.

Locked. What's happening??

I knocked, and the door opened a crack. Hannah's brother, I think his name is Jacob, peeked out at me.

"Ah, right. You." He opened the door fully. "She shouldn't have let you come."

"It's good to see you too." He ushered me inside, then shut the door quickly. "What's goin-."

"Hi." Hannah came around the corner. I raised my eyebrows in a question, but she shook her head. She lead me into the living room where her dad glowered.

"Ok, what is going on here?" I asked.

"It's nothing." Her dad snapped.

"He's going to find out eventually, why can't we just tell him?"

"Because he looks untrustworthy to me. Shifty eyes."

"Dad, we talked about this. We're going to be nice to Neville."

"Can someone just tell me what's going on please!" Hannah took a deep breath, as if she was about to submerge herself in a deep pool.

"Mymum'sMuggleBornandtheministryfoundoutshefakedherfamilytreeandnowshe'sontherunandwe'rescaredshe'llbetracedbacktous."

Wait, slow down. What?" She repeated, this time at a compressible pace.

"My mum's Muggle-Born and the ministry found out she faked her family tree and now she's on the run and we're scared she'll be traced back to us." She looked near tears.

"Oh, oh, Hannah." I moved forward to kiss her, then saw her dad and turned it into a hug. She nestled her head into my shoulder.

"Thanks, Neville." She murmured. "I needed this."

"How did they find out, though? I mean, I always thought you were a pure-blood, not that it matters, but it's just you've never mentioned it."

"It is weird the only time I talked about it, was I mentioned it to Susan once at a DA meeting. I suppose somebody could have overheard, but nobody there cares anyway." I nodded.

"Oh, I wanted to show you something!" She exclaimed suddenly. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hallway.

"Wha-." She cut me off with a kiss.

"There was nothing I wanted to show you. I just missed you, and I couldn't very well kiss you with my dad there. I, hope that's ok."

She bit her lip in that adorable way she did when she felt guilty, apologetic, or preoccupied.

I just had to kiss her again. And again. And once more just because she's just so beautiful and I could.

"Cough cough, said the uncomfortable brother." Jacob was smirking, looking not at all uncomfortable.

"Go away, said the annoyed couple." Hannah retorted.

"If you say so." He started to walk away, then turned back. "But if she gets pregnant, I have a knife, and I know where you live.

My brain froze.

What.......

What?

What!

WHAT!!

"Neville, Neville are you ok?" She was shaking my arm.

"Yeah, everything's great, why wouldn't everything be great, ha ha ha, see perfect, nothing wrong, yay." My voice seemed too high, and began to squeak at the end.

"Neville..."

"He said, said pregnant when we haven't, we haven't, Gran gave me a lecture about this right before I left."

"He's just messing around, he knows I wouldn't, even though your amazing, not yet, we're too..." She trailed off into a silence that stretched on.

She fiddled with a strand of hair, and twirled it around her finger. I scratched the bridge of my nose. She bit the side of her cheek. I tapped my finger to the tune of Beat Back Those Bludgers.

Eventually I broke the silence that was slowly killing me.

"I hate Michael 2.0."

Happy Easter to both the Silver Trio and my wonderful, no less magical readers.

Aria