The wind howled outside as you sat at your kitchen table, a half-empty cup of tea growing cold beside you. The flat was quiet—too quiet. It had been years since the war ended, years since you had last seen the people who once felt like family. Life had moved on, pulling everyone in different directions. You told yourself it was for the best, that the past belonged in the past.

Then came the knock.

It was firm but hesitant, like the person on the other side wasn’t sure if they should be there. Your heart stuttered as you stood, wand within reach, just in case. When you opened the door, the breath left your lungs.

Neville stood before you, soaked from the rain, his hair damp and curling at the edges. He looked older, more sure of himself, but there was something in his expression—something uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him in.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the years of distance stretching between you. Then, shifting his weight, Neville let out a breath and finally broke the silence.

“…Hey. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”