Hannah swayed gently to the music. Her eyes were closed, and she could hear the soft murmur of conversations floating around her. She rested her elbows on the table in front of her and took a deep breath.
It was all very grown up, really, this wedding. Harry Potter, married. Someone she’d gone to Hogwarts with--someone her age was making this huge step. It was quite daunting.
And it was impossibly romantic.
Everything about the ceremony and reception had been lovely. It had been a lavish wedding, yet intimate all at the same time. Everyone had seemed to know each other; there were smiles and tears. People embracing and laughing and reminiscing. There’d been members of Dumbledore’s Army everywhere, and Hannah had seen people she hadn’t since stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the last time, many years ago.
Hannah couldn’t help but wonder, though, how Harry and Ginny had managed to keep the press and unwanted guests at bay. There must have been some very powerful charms at work.
The night was nearly over now, though. The bride and groom had disappeared long ago. The cake cut, the bouquet thrown and caught (by a lovely child Hannah believed was called Victoire) and the champagne consumed (Hannah having more than her fair share, if she was being truthful). Many of the guests had filtered out, but a few clusters of people, wishing to prolong the evening, remained.
The music played on softly. Hannah guessed it wouldn’t stop until the last guest left.
For her own part, Hannah was exhausted and overwhelmed, but still she stayed. She stayed for Neville, who wasn’t ready to leave yet. He was having such a great time, she couldn’t bear to ask him to leave. She’d watched him all night talking to just about everyone. He was quite the celebrity, but whenever anyone had brought the conversation around to his part in the Battle of Hogwarts, he’d blush and act incredibly modest.
Now that most of the guests were gone, he was talking to his good friends: Ron, Hermione and Luna. Hannah was quite content in waiting. Throughout the night--though he’d been happy to reunite with old acquaintances--he’d been shuffling uncomfortably around his celebrity status, scratching his head with a nervous hand. Now that he was with his friends, he looked comfortable and completely at ease.
“Hannah,” a soft voice whispered in her ear.
She groggily opened her eyes and smiled at the round-faced man now sitting next to her.
“Hi,” she whispered back.
“I’m sorry,” Neville said, taking her hand in his. “I didn’t realize you were so tired.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. She grabbed the glass of water in front of her with her free hand and took a generous sip from it. “I’ve been having a great time.”
Neville glanced behind him. “Do you want to go home? Or do you have enough energy for one more dance?”
“Dance,” Hannah said simply, nodding her head in agreement.
The two stood up and--with Neville guiding her slightly--walked over to where the dance floor had been earlier that evening. She slid her arms on his shoulders, and he, her waist. It was a slow song, but even if it had a more upbeat sound, Hannah wouldn’t have been able to do anything more than sway.
They danced slowly, circling lazily around. Hannah rested her head on his shoulder, and Neville’s hands shifted to her back.
“Tonight was really great,” Neville said, his voice muffled slightly in her hair.
Nodding, Hannah tightened her grasp on his shoulders. “Everything was perfect. Harry and Ginny looked so happy. It was just… lovely,” she said, wishing her brain would wake up and be more articulate.
One of Neville’s hands was rising up her back, his fingers tracing her spine. “I hope ours’ll be half as nice,” he whispered.
Hannah stopped swaying. That had made her brain wake up. She lifted her head slightly and looked up at Neville’s face. He was blushing and decidedly not looking at her.
It was the first mention of such a subject between them. Hannah was a bit taken aback by the abruptness of it all, but not put off. In fact, she felt quite as though her heart had just been wrapped around with a soft, warm blanket.
She stood up on her tip-toes and kissed him on his cheek. Without a word, she nestled her head back on his shoulder, placing a kiss on his neck as she did so. A smile played on her lips as she closed her eyes. She could just feel Neville’s lips on the top of her head.
The music continued to play softly around them and it took another three songs before they finally decided to leave, arm in arm.
A/N: I wrote this in celebration of Neville/Hannah becoming canon. I’ve been shipping this pairing for years, and didn’t really think it would ever get validated in canon. Now that it has, I’m doing many happy dances--and plenty of squeeing. It deserved some celebratory ficcage!
Many thanks to my beta, Katieay, who’s always listened to me fangirl both Hannah and this pairing. I can’t be completely crazy, since it ended up canon, right? Right?