Thrihyrne

Harry's ears perked up at the melodious sound; spontaneous, and yet following a tune. He followed the music outside of the ruined Hogwarts façade, uncertain to whom it belonged. He thought of his classmates, cringed, and then of others who had come to help with reparations. At Greenhouse #2, he opened the door, and went inside, still following like a bizarre Ravenlocks in a dysfunctional Muggle fairytale.

It was Neville. This shouldn't have been a surprise. It was a greenhouse, after all.

Neville, shirtless, however, was a surprise. War, somehow, had been good for him. He turned, warmly smiling.

"Welcome."