Love Always, Susan

Love Always, Susan

Looking back, even now, ten years after the war ended, twenty years since the war began, thirteen years after his letters stopped coming, and sixteen years since I met him, I still remember. I still have each of the letters he wrote me, carefully folded and tied with red ribbon. I still remember the day I first met him in The Three Broomsticks. I still remember the day they read his name out at the quidditch game. And I still hold onto the slightest hope that one day, there will be another letter, with another chance for me to reply.

Two days past eighteen

He was waiting for the bus in his army greens

Sat down in a booth in a cafe there

Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair.

Neville Longbottom looked nervously around the Hogsmeade train station. He was supposed to catch the train here to report for the first day of auror training, along with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan, however, he appeared to be the only one at the station. He glanced at his watch- 12:30. Well, that explained things. in his rush, he'd thought he had only five minutes before the train left, but had ended up two hours and five minutes early. He sighed. Neville knew that no more than two- three at most- would make it through the Auror training. But he had to try- Gran wanted him to. He wondered why he always tried to please her, when she would only ever say that he was no where near as good as his father. Shaking his head, Neville left his duffel bag at the station and walked towards The Three Broomsticks. Upon arrival, he went to the booth in the very back corner and sat down, trying to decide what to order, when his thoughts were interupted by a pretty girl dressed in blue with a bow in her hair to match.

"Hello! Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked him, smiling. Neville was taken aback for a moment- he had been unaware that The Three Broomsticks had waitresses.

"Oh, um, a butterbeer, I guess," he answered, shrugging.

"Coming right up!" replied the pretty girl, still smiling as she turned to retrieve a butterbeer from the counter.

He's a little shy so she gives him a smile,

He says "Would you mind sitting down for a while

And talking to me, I'm feelin' a little low"

She says "I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go."

Susan Bones looked up in the middle of pouring a mulled mead for Mr. Fletcher. A young man of about eighteen had just walked into the cafe. He seemed diminished, somehow, and headed straight for the back table. Susan shook her head. He must be shy. Well, she certainly knew how to deal with that. She finished up with Mr. Fletcher, wiped her hands on a dish towel, and headed for his table.

"Hello! Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked him cheerfully. He jumped, as though she'd just startled him out of a trance.

"Oh, um, a butterbeer, I guess," he replied nervously.

"Coming right up!" Susan told him, and she turned to fetch a butterbeer from behind the counter. Poor kid, she thought as she went. Definitely shy. I wonder why he's here all alone? She returned to his table moments later, his butterbeer in hand.

"Here you are!" she handed him his butterbeer with a smile to top Lockhart's.

"Thanks," he said, and tried to pay her for the drink, but she pushed the money away.

"It's on the house," she replied.

"Oh, er, thanks," he repeated, blushing slightly.

"Are you all right? You look like something's bothering you," Susan said, concerned.

"Well, since you asked..." The boy sighed. "This hasn't been the best day so far." Susan nodded sympathetically. "Actually..." He looked as though he were trying to gather up his courage to say something. "Would you mind talking to me for a little while?"

"Well, I'm on the clock right now, but I'm off in an hour. I know where we can go," answered Susan, smiling.

So they went down and they sat on the pier,

He said "I betcha got a boyfriend but I don't care,

I've got no one to send a letter to.

Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?

Neville stayed in the booth at the back of The Three Broomsticks for the next hour as he waited for the girl's shift to end, watching her flit around the restaurant. Eventually, 1:30 rolled around- and then passed. Neville continued to watch the girl for a few minutes, crestfallen, feeling very forgotten. Sighing , he got up from the table and trudged towards the door. No one had ever cared about him outside his family, after all. Why should she be any different? But still, he couldn't help feeling hurt as he walked out of The Three Broomsticks. He was halfway to the train station when he felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around. It was the pretty girl from The Three Broomsticks.

"Hi!" she said, breathlessly. "I'm sorry I took so long- Madam Rosmerta assigned me to dishwashing at the last minute." She stuck out her tongue, and then smiled again. How could she smile so much? wondered Neville. "So, do you still want to go somewhere to talk?"

"Yeah... Yeah, that'd be great," he replied, in a voice almost as breathless as hers from nervousness.

"Follow me, then," the girl told him, and he did, following her along a path that seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. It seemed like he'd walked this way many times before, but he didn't know why. Then he saw a castle in the distance, and it hit him. Hogwarts.

"Are you sure we're allowed on the grounds?" he asked, cautiously. "I mean now that, that we're not students, I mean?"

"Who said anything about Hogwarts?" the girl answered mischeviously. "But yes, we're allowed, aand even if we weren't, what could they do, expell us?" Her blue eyes twinkled. Neville blushed and remained silent the rest of the way to their destination, which did, in fact turn out to be Hogwarts- or, more specifically, the lake on the grounds.

"So," the girl began as she sat down at the edge of the lake, motioning for Neville to do the same. "I'm Susan Bones. Who are you?"

"I- I'm Neville Longbottom,"he answered, stammering slightly.

Hiya, Neville. So, what's a boy like you doing in the Three Broomsticks all by himself?" Susan asked him.

"Well, I'm waiting for a train to leave for- for Auror Training," he answered, a dismal tone in his voice.

"Why, that's fantastic!" Susan said, excitedly. "Why do you sound so disappointed?"

"Because," sighed Neville. "There's no way I'll make it."

"Nonsense," said Susan immediately. "Of course you'll make it."

"Really?" asked Neville, excited. She had to be lying, of course, but still. "How do you know?"

"Oh, I can just tell,"she said, vaguely. Of course, thought Neville, disappointment reigning over him once more. She wasn't really serious. She was just trying to make me feel better.

"Now, really," she said, a disapproving tone in her voice, as if she'd been reading his mind. "There's no need to look so disappointed. I'm serious. I mean, you made it this far, didn't you?"

"Yeah- yeah, I guess I did," he answered, lightening up. They continued to talk for almost an hour, until Neville realized his train was due any minute- for real this time. He had turned to leave when he thought of something, and turned around again.

"Hey," he called down to Susan. "I- I know you've probably got a boyfriend, but- would you mind if I owled you, sometime?"

Susan smiled. "Sure!" And for the first time, Neville really smiled back.

So the letters came from an army camp,

In California then Vietnam.

He told her of his heart, it might be love,

And all of the things he was so scared of.

Susan went about her work as usual for the next few days and weeks, but Neville hadn't left her thoughts. On the contrary, she thought about him quite a lot. He wasn't just shy, she had decided. No, he was more than that- honest and sincere, not to mention slightly eager to please. She hadn't been lying when she'd told him he was a great person, or when she'd told him he could be an auror if he wanted. Her prediction began to be proven corect when she received her first owl from him a week later, from a camp somewhere in the ministry. He told her that, although he wasn't definitely better than anyone else in the group, he wasn't definitely worse than anyone else, either. Susan wrote back that she was happy for him, and didn't even dream of taking an opportunity to say 'I told you so'. They continued minor chitchat such as this for several weeks, until he, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley were all made aurors. After that, the owls began coming from top secret locations, and he began to tell her more of his fears- and his loves. One of which sounded as though it was Susan. Susan was quite excited by this, because she personally held deep feelings for Neville as well, but now it was her turn to feel unsure of herself. She wasn't sure she wanted to commit herself to writing 'I love you' in a letter to him. It may not have sounded at all difficult, but it signified a major step for Suzan, and she'd never been involved in a serious relationship before. So she continued to write to him about minor things- nothing so trivial as the weather, of course, but nothing so important as her love.

He said when it's getting kinda rough over here,

I think of that day sitting down on the pier,

And close my eyes, and see your pretty smile.

Don't worry but I won't be able to write for a while.

Neville woke with a start. Since he'd become an auror, Harry was no longer the only one having nightmares- Neville and Ron had them too. Of course, theirs were never premonitions, but they were still scary. Neville got out of bed and poured himself a glass of water. After taking a few steadying sips, he closed his eyes and conjured the memory he had conjured so many times now- Suzan's smile. After a few moments, he was able to relax. Instead of falling back asleep, Neville took out parchment and a quill and began to write a letter to Suzan. He made it halfway down the parchment and then was stuck. He'd written that he loved her many times now, but she had made no reply as to whether or not she loved him. Should he ask? No, said a voice in his head. She'll answer in her own time. Another voice in his head interupted him. But what if she never answers? What if she doesn't- No! thought the other voice in his head, almost frantically. Of course she does, she just hasn't said so yet. So he ended his letter with a note not to worry about him because he wouldn't be able to write for a bit, and signed it Love Always, Neville.

One Friday night at a football game,

The Lord's Prayer said and the anthem sang,

A man said "Folks, would you bow your heads

For a list of local vietnam dead."

And crying all alone under the stands,

Was a picolo player in the marching band,

And one name read, and nobody really cared,

But a pretty little girl

With a bow in her hair.

Susan hid under the seats of the quidditch stadium at Hogwarts, she'd always come here when she needed to be alone, even now. The sturdy, interlocking wooden framework comforted her, in some way. Unfortunately, today was a bad day to be here to be alone, because there would be a Quidditch game beginning any moment. She tuned out the students as best she could, crying quietly. Why- Oh why- hadn't she told him in her last letter? In any one of her letters? Suddenly, a voice cut through her thoughts and quieted the crowd.

"Before we begin the game, I would like to have a moment of silence to honor the following Hogwarts alumni who have died fighting against Lord Voldemort," said a voice Susan recognized as Dumbledore's. She kept crying, but listened at the same time. "Angelina Johnson, Terry Boot, Olivia Quirke, Alastor Moody," Suzan thought she heard Dumbledore's voice quiver slightly as he recited that name. "Hannah Abbot, Percy Weasley, Arthur Weasley, and Neville Longbottom." Susan began crying harder, and realized that, whether or not this was her safe place, she couldn't stay here, not while there were so many people around. She slipped out of the stadium and ran, just ran, paying no attention to where she was going. She found herself by the lake, where she had talked to Neville for the first time. She sank to her knees by the shore, sobbing now. Why- why, why, why, WHY hadn't she told him how she felt before it was too late? Why?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I cried

Never gonna hold the hand of another guy

Too young, for him they told her,

Waiting for the love of a traveling soldier.

Our love will never end,

Waiting for the soldier to

Come back again,

Never more to be alone,

When the letter says

A soldier's coming home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, I still remember. Whether it be ten, twenty, or a hundred years, I will still remember. I will still have his letters, neatly folded and tied with a red ribbon. I will still remember the day we met in The Three Broomsticks. I will still remember the day they read his name at the quidditch game. And I will still hold onto the hope that one day, somehow, there will be another letter, and another chance to reply:

Love Always,

Susan