Chapter Four: Sloth Grip Roll

The hotel's breakfast room was exquisite, and the day was bright and sunny. Neville noted that many of the patrons were wearing Quidditch paraphernalia, and it seemed that every table was full of animated chatter. Except for his table. A waitress came by with a carafe and Malfoy looked up from his paper to nod curtly at her and give Neville a hard look before returning to his reading.

Well, it was better than conversation, Neville supposed. He should have stayed in bed and let Malfoy go to eat by himself, but he would've hated to sleep through breakfast and make everyone late.

"You can read Greek?" Ginny asked, sliding into a seat with a plate full of food and looking fresh as a daisy.

"No," Malfoy said, tossing the paper aside. "I was checking the stocks. Your friend snores," he added with a pointed glance at Neville.

Ginny grinned at both of them. "So do I. Isn't the weather great? You couldn't ask for a better game day. I feel like it's Christmas morning or something."

Malfoy already looked less perturbed, Neville noted. Ginny seemed much more at ease than she had yesterday, and he wondered if it was the impending Quidditch match or Pansy's absence that had lifted her spirits. "Where's Pansy?"

"She was showing signs of life when I left," Ginny said, "so she should be down soon, I guess. I can't wait to get out to the pitch. I went to the last World Cup at home and the atmosphere there was just incredible for the whole day. I can see there are a lot of fans here, but it's a hotel, people are going to behave themselves."

"I remember a tentful of Irish blokes going wild, drinking Firewhiskey and setting off fireworks right in the middle of everything," Malfoy said. "That was a hell of a game, too."

A funny thing, memory. Neville hadn't been to that game but his most prevalent remembrance of the event was the Death Eater riot. But it seemed uncharitable to bring that up when the two of them were in such a good mood.

"Forget it, Pansy," Malfoy said suddenly, looking past Neville. "Change those shoes. I'm not going to carry you around all day."

Neville turned in his seat to catch Pansy stride up to them on strappy sandals with perilously high platforms. "Of course you won't," she said, stopping behind Neville's chair and bending down to wind her arms around his neck. "Neville will carry me around. Good morning," she whispered with a kiss to his cheek.

"Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" he whispered.

"They're Pushkins. The anti-blister charms won't start fading for another six months, at least. Is their fruit fresh?" she asked with a glance over at the food.

"It's great," he assured her, and she went to check for herself.

Malfoy and Ginny kept up their Quidditch talk through the meal and as they took to the streets. Neville was once again grateful for Ginny's presence. As she kept Malfoy fully occupied, he could enjoy his time with Pansy uninterrupted. For her part, Pansy seemed determined not to let Ginny ruin her day, and there was plenty to distract her. As they neared the World Cup pitch, the number of vendors and street performers rose until they reached the site and the crowd became the only thing Neville could see. Pansy could spot a shopping opportunity in any situation, though, and when temptation finally became too much for her she tugged on Malfoy's sleeve. "Draco, we're passing up all the vending stalls! Let's go through them before we find our seats."

Malfoy glanced over at the particular stall that had caught Pansy's attention. "More shoes? Are you serious?"

"I've got souvenirs to buy," Ginny chimed in.

"I suppose I should get a program," Malfoy muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, but I'm not following you around to every blessed shop."

"Of course you're not," Pansy soothed, clutching Neville's arm. "Neville is, remember?"

Malfoy grimaced at Neville. "You do realise you don't have to do everything she says, don't you?"

There was no malice in Malfoy's words. If anything, he seemed...sympathetic? "What else am I going to do?" Neville asked with a shrug.

"Sit down? Have a drink? Examine the local flora?" Malfoy suggested. "Your unthinking obedience is spoiling her – and the rest of us have to live with the results."

"Very funny," Pansy huffed.

"We'll meet back at this café, okay? And Pansy? Don't take forever or we're leaving you."

"If I come back without her, she deserves it," Neville promised. And for perhaps the first time in their lives, Neville and Draco smiled at each other.


Neville and Pansy returned to the café – together – to find Draco slouched in a seat with a glass of lemonade in his hand. "Where's Ginny?" Neville said immediately.

Draco shrugged. "I lost her."

"She's a big girl," Pansy said before Neville could go on the attack. "She knows where to find us." She juggled her bags. "Do you want to see what I bought?"

"Not at all," Draco drawled, raising his lemonade to his lips.

"First," Pansy said, "I got these sandals. Don't they just scream Greece? And then, oh, this necklace, a bit pedestrian but it's a Greek key motif so I had to have it, and here, isn't this arm band incredible? The stone's garnet, of course, not ruby, but it's real silver. And then these," she said, holding up a circle of loosely-strung amber beads.

"I wonder if it's too late to give your ticket to Flint," Draco mused. "At least he'd know he was here to watch Quidditch."

"This says 'Quidditch World Cup' on it!" Pansy exclaimed indignantly, flashing him the pendant hanging off her beads. "At least, that's what I think it says."

"That's great. And you, Longbottom?"

"Just this," Neville said, pulling a souvenir program from his pocket.

"Ginny and I got copies, too. And I got a pennant, since I got one from the last game. And some Ominoculars, which is what you should have been buying instead of jewellery, Pansy."

"I watch Quidditch without Ominoculars all the time," Pansy sniffed.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Can I get you something, Pansy?" Neville asked.

"I think she's got quite enough already, don't you?" Draco said snidely.

Neville ignored him. "Lemonade or something?"

"No, thank you."

"Let me guess, you bought a cask already at some charming stall?"

"Although I wouldn't say no to another table," Pansy decided.

"Aww, Pansy. I've missed you too."

"You make for a terrible tag-along, Draco."

Draco surveyed her blandly and then took a long pull on his lemonade.

Ginny rushed up to the table. "Sorry I took so long," she panted. "The queue was enormous, but look what I got!" She pulled an Australia Quidditch jersey halfway out of her bag.

Pansy clucked her tongue. "You should've bought a Morocco jersey. That's going to look terrible on you with your hair." Neville elbowed her sharply. "What?"

Ginny blinked at Pansy. "You're...joking, right?"

"No. You have to know that the red will clash horribly – the white and gold would've been much better," Pansy said, earning herself another elbow from Neville. "Ow! What?"

Draco cast an approving glance in Neville's direction before turning to Ginny. "She's right, you know. You're going to feel awfully stupid wearing that when we're out celebrating Morocco's victory."

"Is that so?" Ginny retorted with a grin, pulling the jersey out fully and unfolding it. "I'm so confident that I'm going to put it on right now."

"Well, at least this way you'll get some wear out of it," Draco said, and Ginny stuck her tongue out at him before the jersey went over her head. "Now can we get to our seats? Pansy, do you have any spending money left or are you ready to get to the pitch?"

"Let's go," she said, gathering up her bags.

By now the crowd was a veritable crush of people, so Neville slung an arm around Pansy to make sure they didn't get separated and kept his eyes focused on Ginny's red hair as she darted after Draco. At one point he nearly lost them as they went around a bend, but Pansy picked up the trail and they rushed around a knot of Morocco fans to catch up. When they were nearly caught up, a tall wizard stepped between Draco and Ginny and gave Draco a shove in the back, sending him stumbling forwards.