Work Text:
Old bones set in old ways. Bathilda saw the rise of kings, the decay of wars, and the corruption of good to tired, and tired to jaded. It was difficult to find much energy for human connection when the outcomes were already known. The same pattern repeated throughout time. They always turned to ash in the end.
Which is why Bathilda became so infuriated by the neighbour’s girl. Sweet little Hannah Abbott, the Hufflepuff. The wide smile with the cheerful, “Hello!” was cute when she was little. Hannah used to love being told stories about witches of old. But then she betrayed Bathilda’s expectations and kept it up. Even with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named alive again, and precious little to cheer about, there was Hannah Abbott being a ray of sunlight on a cloudy day.
Maybe Bathilda was tired of being tired, and jaded about being jaded, but she wanted to see how this new pattern goes. With despair on every horizon, she wants to grab hold of any bit of happiness. She wants to be part of Hannah’s happiness. And so, the next time she receives that happy smile and cheerful “Hello!” she smiles back, and offers a cup of tea.