Becca looked up at Neville as he closed his eyes and apparated them to the three broomsticks, still on his arm as they pushed open the door and found their table. She let go of his arm to go sit across from him, placing her wallet on the table and resting her elbows on it. She ordered her drink as she brushed a piece of hair out of her face, the dampness making it a bit darker than it usually was.
“I’ve missed you too, Neville. We haven’t talked in ages, and that’s such shit. But after the War, things have been really rough. A few months ago, Colin passed away, but I’ve been dealing with it, and it’s getting easier every day. Lisa’s handling it well now, too. Things are getting better,” She nodded her head and smiled, “What about yourself? I’ve heard so much about you, and I’m so proud of you, Nev.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Becca.” He touched her hand softly, and then smiled at her last comment. “I’ve been better. Been taking care of Gran and the house. Visited mum and dad a few times, too. Though, they’re not getting any better. Every time I go to see them, it just makes me ill. I get shaken up, and when I go to sleep after I see them, my nightmares get terribly worse.” He smiled at her worried expression. “But it’s been getting better. Slowly, but it has. I think I need to get out more often.” He laughed shyly.
Their drinks came and Neville sipped at it. “Just as I remember it tasting.” He looked up from his cup into Becca’s eyes. “We really should do this more often. It clears my mind from all the terrible things I have had the trouble to endure. And I think it does the same for you?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.
"I'm sorry I had to, too. But one day, I'll be okay." Becca hated to say that. She hated to think and say that one day in the future, she'd be okay. She hated to think about living a normal life without Colin, but she knew she had to. She was only sixteen. She had her whole life in front of her, and she knew she'd fall in love again. She'd get engaged again. Have another child- She'd go through basically the last two years of her life again. And she'd end up being okay, "I'm sorry they're not getting better, mate. Have you told them of the war, though? Told them the people who did that to them are dead? They'd be so proud of you, Neville."
She took her drink and wrapped her hands around it, holding it as her thumb rubbed over the side. She took a small sip, grinning at Neville's comment. She hadn't had butterbeer in months. Really, the only wizard drink she ever drunk now was just firewhiskey, and even then she had to force herself to not drink it so often. "It does do the same for me, actually," She smiled, taking another sip, "I really never go out- I just have nowhere to go. If anything I go to the manor and see mum, or go visit the Creevey's. Other than that I just lock myself inside the cottage. You should come over to hang out sometime, mate."
