A/N: Hey guys! Wow, thanks for all the feedback. I can't tell you how much I love it when you tell me what you like and don't like, and I especially love the PMs I get from you. As always, remember to review!

Oh, and to Mara, a reviewer, I wish I could have replied to you and told you how good your reviews made me feel! :) Ah I am so motivated!

Pansy gritted her teeth, teetering on the edge of an all out tantrum, the likes of which had not been seen since she was a child. The paper that was being crushed and crumpled in her hands was a letter from her father, which read:

My sweet darling Pansy(as soon as she'd read this saccharine pet name, she'd known it was bad news),

I'm so sorry for not having contacted you sooner. I have been busy as always, managing your grandmother's estate and attending family meetings. You'll be happy to know that our little public fallout was well received by the family, cousins and all, who thought that they would have to force me to disown you. We beat them to the punch, didn't we darling?

I know you must be distraught, but I am very grateful to the Malfoys for allowing you to stay with them. Mark my words, Pansy, stay right where you are. I know you've always had an affinity for Draco, and I encourage you to nurture that relationship. I remember a time when the two of you were inseparable. I am a firm believer that the best marriages stem from friendship.

I must tell you that I have some serious doubts about the validity of that man's book about your mother's mother. If I were you, I would not worry about him one bit. I have been receiving letters from his lawyers and promptly burning them in the fireplace. If he attempts to contact you, I advise you to do the same.

Enclosed is an amount of money I have been able to obtain for you. Do buy yourself something pretty, to distract you from your distress.

Love Always,

Your father

How insulting! Her whole family wanted to disown her? Those conniving… She could hardly think. And then her father had the nerve to encourage her to "nurture her relationship" with Draco. Her father and his mother were surely plotting together. Disgusting!

… But more disturbing was the idea that her family didn't like her. Well, of course they didn't like her… but did they have so little regard for her that they would throw her away over something as trivial as the possibility that she might have an ounce of Muggle blood? She knew that it was probably kind of hypocritical of her to feel this way. After all, she had gone through a phase in her life where she'd really cared about her heritage. What goes around comes around?

Also, had her father forgotten about the long nights and days the summer after Draco had told her he didn't want to have a romantic relationship? She was sixteen, and she was crushed. She'd moped around the manor all day, trying to figure out what she'd done wrong. Why would her father think that a relationship would work between them? Had he just… forgotten?

She took a few deep breaths and found that she couldn't calm down. She was angry about every single aspect of that letter. She tucked the galleons her father had enclosed in a bag and threw it at the wall, just to hear the satisfying sound. She picked the bag up and threw it again, hysterical laughter bubbling up from her chest.

Neville was struggling to get through the work day. Before he'd been told he needed help at the shop by his grandmother and a few other friends, he'd thought he was doing just fine. Harry or Ron would come in all the time to visit and help. Even Luna, when she wasn't busy with her travels, would come in and talk with customers. Now, it seemed like he was bogged down with clients, and he simply couldn't keep up, even with all of the cleaning spells and helpful friends.

But of course, his friends did have lives of their own. While they were a great help to him, they weren't permanent employees. And it also seemed that Longbottom's Botany was becoming the staple store for everyone's Herbology needs. Neville could honestly say, with pride, that he was surprised at the rising popularity of the shop.

At the end of Monday night, he gave in to logic (and, oddly enough, his better sense) and composed a letter to Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy sighed in relief at the breakfast table. She was holding Neville's note, with no one to keep her company but Draco.

"So he gave you the job? Gryffindors must be more saintly than we originally believed," he quipped, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Must be. We should make a note to always capitalize on it," she replied with a huge grin. "Oh Draco. I'm so happy. I'll be able to move out, finally. Hey, where are your parents today, anyway?"

"Oh, they're off in Romania on vacation."

"I don't remember them mentioning anything about that." She frowned. Not that she wasn't relieved to not have to hear the same thinly veiled hints about her and Draco's non-existent relationship.

"It was a short-notice type of thing, actually. They just got word of a family artifact. They're off to get it, made a vacation out of it. Either way, Astoria's going to come over for the week. It'll be nice not having to sneak her around."

Pansy snorted. "I think that's half the fun for you," she said. "Anyway, you two aren't very good at sneaking. I see Astoria every time I open my bedroom door in the morning."

"Well, we don't care about you seeing. You already know."

"Whatever. Not my problem," she said, taking a sip of her morning tea. "Just don't blame me when your mother finds out. Can you imagine how broken my heart will be?" She smiled. Narcissa would be beside herself.

"Oh, the wasted potential," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Honestly. Marrying you would be like marrying a cousin."

"Thanks?"

"Oh, take the compliment."

"Even your compliments are half-hearted. You're a very unpleasant person." He gave her a smirk and a shrug at the same time. "Do you have this morning's Prophet?"

"Do you really want to read it anymore?"

"Surely I can't still be in the front pages."

"Well, if you insist."

To Pansy's surprise, it was her ex-boyfriend, Theo Nott on the front cover. "What?" she murmured to herself. He had a blond bird on his arm and he was giving Rita Skeeter an exclusive interview… about her.

"How in the hell am I so fascinating to her?" Pansy nearly yelled. A nearby house elf jumped and sneezed in surprise.

"Well, it's not the real you that's so interesting, just the fake you she paints in the paper," Draco offered. Pansy nearly threw her muffin at him.

"Can you believe this? Theo says that I'm crazy. Ugh!" She read on, despite knowing it would only serve to make her angrier. "I'm not a crazy girlfriend, Draco. I'm not. Oh, and guess what? I'm a baby-hungry lunatic! Listen to this:

Rita Skeeter: So, Theo, darling. If you had to describe your relationship to Pansy in one word, what would it be?

Theodore Nott: (laughs) Uh, that's a tough one. I guess I would say… Insane.

RS: Oh my! Why would you say that?

TN: Well, she wasn't all bad, really. It started out great, but then… you know how those big families operate. She wanted to get married real soon. She even wanted kids. It was all just way too much for me.

RS: So how was your break-up? Not too messy, I hope!

TN: Oh, it was the definition of messy!

RS: How long were you together?

TN: Hmm... like a year?

RS: According to my sources, you were together for a year and a half.

TN: (laughs) Oh, yeah! I must have been thinking of someone else!"

She breathed loudly, indignant. It reminded Draco of a dragon. "He's an animal!" She shouted.

Draco shrugged. "I told you you shouldn't read the paper."

"I can't believe…" she stamped her foot on the floor as she stood up. It hurt, it really did. It seemed that Skeeter was determined to dig through all of her old acquaintances and boyfriends and drag her name through the mud.

"Are you jealous of this broad in the picture?" Draco asked casually.

"Not at all. I just can't believe Skeeter," Pansy replied. "Why is she doing this? Isn't the fact that my family has disowned me enough? Or that fact that I have no money? Or that I have to get a real job?" She inhaled, out of breath. "You know what, Draco? I bet she has a scheme."

"Really? You think?" He watched her head swivel completely toward him, giving him an angry stare.

"That woman is insufferable." Pansy huffed. "I need to blow off some steam, Draco. I'm going shopping."

Wednesday found Neville waiting nervously for his brand new employee. Why he was nervous, he didn't know. She was the one who should be nervous. He threw his apron on and sighed. He would have to find another one for her. She would probably get filthy on her first day. He wondered how the former Slytherin beauty queen would react to having to get her hands dirty.

He heard a loud pop right outside the door of the shop and he knew who it was. He inwardly resolved to be kind to her and give her a chance. Bygones would be bygones, they would get a fresh start and they would be pleasant co-workers. Even if he wasn't her biggest fan. It wasn't like she was his.

He found her just outside the locked glass doors, waving and tapping the glass. He unlocked the door and greeted her before he noticed something wrong.

She was well dressed. Too well dressed.

She was wearing something similar to what she wore in her interview. A light teal dress, and feminine black flats. Her nails were even manicured to a pale pink. Her hair was down and if he wasn't wrong she was wearing a smidge of pink lipstick.

"Hello, Longbottom," she said with a polite smile.

"Hi, Parkinson." He paused, how should he say it? "I'm not sure you're dressed right," he said carefully, hoping she wouldn't take it as an insult. Girls were sensitive about their clothes, he was sure Pansy was no exception.

"Oh." She looked down at herself and smoothed her dress. She'd thought she looked professional. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're going to get dirty today. Your clothes will probably get dirty, too."

She mentally kicked herself. Duh! Why hadn't she thought of that?

"Oh, no," she breathed. "Um, I'm sorry, Longbottom. What should I… I don't know. I can't get this dress dirty. What do I do?" She looked so nervous he almost laughed. This situation was really strange, and he wondered what his fifteen year old self would have said if he told him that Pansy Parkinson would be working for him one day.

He'd probably tell him that he was nuts.

"Do you have anything you don't mind getting dirty or ripped?" he asked, and from the look on her face he guessed the answer was no.

"Um, maybe I have something," she said. "Should I floo home and look?" Oh lord, she thought, panicking. He was going to fire her at the end of the day. She was messing up already.

"Don't worry," he said with an easy smile. "I probably have something upstairs, if it's not a big deal to you."

"Like what?"

"You just hang on down here, I'll go look." He took the stairs two at a time. Thank Merlin there were two hours before opening time. He was right in having her here early.

He unlocked his flat and moved quickly into his room, ruffling through the cluttered closet for a shirt he was alright to part with. There was always an extra red and gold-striped shirt to spare, but he didn't think it would be very nice to her. He was tempted though. He chose a plain blue shirt he barely even knew he had.

"Here," he said to her when he came back. "You can just throw it on over your dress, just to protect it a little." She held the shirt out in front of her and examined it.

"Is it clean?" she asked, seeing a little purple stain on the front.

"Yeah," he said shortly from the now-open storage closet. "Take a look in here. This is the storage closet. The main one, that is." He grabbed a dirt-covered apron and handed it to her. It joined the stained shirt that was folded across her arm. "Here we have shovels, some potting soil, and some seeds. It would be good to memorize which ones are which, just in case. I have only one key right now but I'm sure I can get you a copy soon."

She nodded, trying to take everything in and remember it all. He continued:

"This is just the front room, and there are a ton of plants here. But in the back, we have the atrium. That's where we're going to be growing most of the plants we sell. About ninety percent we grow ourselves. The other ten percent comes from other locations. The more exotic plants, that is. I'll probably take care of the rarer breeds myself, but I'll want your help with most everything else. Remember any Herbology lessons from school?"

Oh, no, no she didn't. She just smiled. "Yeah, some," she said confidently. "I'm sure it'll all come rushing back to me."

"Perfect," he replied, feeling hopeful. Even if he had to teach her a little bit, she might just pull through and impress him. He still kept his optimism in check, though. "I'm going to lock this up. You can go ahead and put those on, and then I'll show you the cash register."

Pansy sighed when he left the front room to go to the small check out area in the other corner of the room. She took a look at the stained shirt and decided to bite the bullet. She pulled the shirt carefully over her pretty dress and felt the soft cotton touch her arms. She tried to ignore the way it smelled (it was certainly not nice or lovely smelling. Not one bit!) and she tied the apron on. It was so big that she had to wrap the strings around one and a half times and tie it in the front. She felt the big ugly pockets and it suddenly occurred to her that someone might see her. Someone she knew.

Well, she would just have to cross her fingers that they wouldn't.

She walked over to where Neville was placing a number of galleons in the cash register. "Ready," she said as cheerfully as possible.

"Alright," he said.

He showed her the cash register and the way to wrap up plants. He gave her a lesson on how to issue a receipt and take and give back money. He showed her the atrium, which was full of more flowers and plants than she had seen in her life, even while she was in school. How had he managed this place single-handedly?

"Do you actually grow all of this yourself?" she asked, amazed.

"Well, my friends have helped me a lot. I have an uncle that comes in when he has spare time, but... yeah, it's mostly just me. It's really not much," he said, wishing he wasn't so pleased by the amazed look on her face. "And of course, charms help me a lot. You can't do everything with magic, especially when it comes to plants. They need a human hand, but it helps to know a few spells to keep things running smoothly."

"Of course," she replied, still astonished. Longbottom had really outdone himself. How was he running a business like this alone? Even with magic, it was incredible that he'd done this all himself. What she saw in the atrium was a sea of green plant life. It was like Diagon Alley wasn't even outside. She knew that most of the shops in the Alley were charmed to look smaller on the outside and bigger on the inside, but it seemed she was in a rainforest. The smell of soil and flowers was refreshing, lovely even. She looked over to him, careful to keep a straight face.

He flashed a modest smile. "So, are you ready to open up?"

Oh, she was so, so ready for closing time. She kept glancing at the clock. The time seemed to drag slowly by. She was so, so tired and she was stressed and oh Merlin, she was going to cry.

The morning had been nice and slow, but as the day wore on she had to plant and replant flowers and herbs. She had to check out customers, who were just so horribly rude and awful, and she had to answer stupid questions that she didn't know the answer to. Was this what working was really like? People coming in and out of the store, thinking they were better than you just because they had money to buy something?

Her fingers were aching and there was dirt caked under her nails. Her dress had been partly protected by the shirt Neville had loaned her but it had still gotten dirty anyway. Her hair was a hot mess because she hadn't even had time during the day to charm it pretty again. She was certain that her face was even smudged with dirt.

Neville had barely even been helpful. Sure, he'd saved her multiple times when she messed up at the register, or when she didn't know the answer to a question.

Okay, so maybe he had been extremely helpful. But she really needed to be angry at something right now, and Longbottom was the closest person around. But she couldn't even be rude to him, because he was the one who paid her.

Bollocks!

Finally, the last customer was gone. It was seven o'clock by now and the sun was just barely starting to set.

She would finally get to go home.

Neville found Pansy behind the register, holding a mirror compact in her hand and looking horrified. Well, he had to admit, she did look a mess. There was dirt all over her face and in her hair, and her apron was as good as smeared all over with soil.

"How was your first day?" he asked politely, handing her a damp towel. She snatched it out of his hand and rubbed it all over her face. Well, he'd originally meant the towel for her hands, but okay. He just wouldn't mention that he'd already used it on his own.

"It was…" she picked under her fingernails and bit her lip. "Um, it was great. I had fun."

"Really?" he asked, surprised. She'd looked miserable from about two o'clock on. She was probably lying, he figured. She looked dead tired.

"Yeah, I learned a lot," she said, her voice suddenly getting a little hoarse. She felt a painful lump in her throat and she felt like her head was going to explode. Oh no. Was she about to cry?

"That's good," Neville said, oblivious to her predicament. "You did alright for your first day. Hey, you can keep that shirt if you like, I have a ton others just for working. I won't miss it. You can keep the apron, too."

What is wrong with you, Parkinson? Her mind screamed. The more she thought about how horrendous her day was, the closer she was to crying. She kept she damp towel close to her face, ready to catch any little tears if they squeezed themselves out against her will. She needed to leave, now.

"Well, I guess now that all the customers are gone I'll be going home, now," she said, her voice shaking. She couldn't cry in front of Neville Longbottom. Absolutely not.

"Oh, not yet, actually," Neville said. "We need to clean up in here, do some watering and balance the books."

He didn't realize what was going on before it was too late. It was as if it were happening in slow motion. Pansy's big eyes watered up and her face turned to a grimace. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she covered her eyes with the towel as she let out big sobs.

Neville froze, trying to remember if he'd done something on accident to hurt her. Maybe he'd knocked something over on her or stepped on her foot? Was that why she was crying? Or maybe he'd said something to her during the day that hurt her feelings? Finally, he was able to speak.

"Oh Merlin, Parkinson, what's wrong?" The question came out harsher than he had intended and spurred a new round of tears.

"I…" she tried to speak but she couldn't. Once she started crying, she knew she couldn't stop until it was all done. And she looked so ugly when she cried!

That thought made her cry a little more.

Neville did the only thing he could think of and ran to the sink to get her a glass of water. He offered it to her and she reached one hand out to take it, and used the other to soak up her tears with the towel.

"Did I say something?" Neville asked lamely, not knowing what to do with himself.

"No!" she cried, wiping her out-of-control tears away. "You didn't. I'm so…" She sniffed. "Can I blow my nose in this?"

He nodded and she hid her face while she did it, incredibly embarrassed. "Longbottom. I'm sorry. I must look so stupid right now," she said angrily, folding the towel up neatly in her lap and wiping her nose with it delicately.

"No, it's okay," he said, shaking his head. He couldn't stand to watch girls cry. He guessed that sentiment even extended to Pansy Parkinson. "I'm sorry. Are you sure I didn't say something?" He couldn't help but feel that he'd done something wrong.

"No," she said. "It's just… Work is… hard!" She buried her face in her hands. "I'm so stressed out. And I can't believe I'm crying in front of you!" She wiped her nose and looked at him.

"I don't mind," he said quickly. "It's alright."

"It's just… I wanted to get a job so badly. But I didn't think it would be so difficult." This, Neville could believe. Parkinson had probably never had a real job before. At least one that her father hadn't scored for her, one where she actually had to do work rather than deal with people who had to be nice to her.

"It'll get easier," he said, wondering if he should pat her on the back or something. He decided not to. Too weird. "Anyway, it'll only take an hour or two for us to get wrapped up."

"Okay," she breathed, standing up and tucking the towel into her apron pocket. Neville gave her a kind smile and pulled a large book out from under the counter.

"Here's the budget and the inventories," he said lightly, hoping not to stress her out. "You can just sit and do these while I clean up. I'll teach you how to close up tomorrow night."

She felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. "Okay," she said, placing her hands on the book and opening it.

When Neville was out of the front room and in the atrium, Pansy tried to forget her embarrassment and focus on the book. There were two different handwritings on the pages, one she was sure was Neville's, and the other (which was much neater) she didn't know.

She breathed in and began. She found herself immersed in the numbers, finding mistakes and correcting them, applying new numbers and subtracting ones that didn't matter. In a small matter of time she finished for the current day.

She closed the book and looked up. It was totally dark outside now. She could hear Longbottom doing something in the back room and stood to see what he was up to and to let him know she was done.

She found him on a ladder watering a plant that was hanging from the tall ceiling.

"Longbottom?" she called gently, not wanting to scare him off the ladder. A small part of her thought it would be kind of funny, but that was just probably just because she had a strange sense of humor.

"Yes?" he called back down to her. When he was done watering, he climbed down the ladder and took a look at her. "Are you done already?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Um, you might want to take a look at it. But I'm pretty sure it's all wrapped up."

"Okay," he said, wiping his forehead. "You can go home now, if you want. I'll just have you help me tomorrow night."

"Thanks," she said. Tomorrow night. That meant she had survived her first day of work. With Neville Longbottom as her boss. And he was letting her come back the next day, even though she'd just had a nervous breakdown right in front of him.

Neville Longbottom was either incredibly kind, or just mentally unstable.

"See you tomorrow morning," he called to her right before she apparated.

It was eleven at night when Neville flooed over to the Burrow to see Hermione. She and Harry and Ginny were still awake, while Ron was fast asleep on the couch, snoring.

"Neville, don't tell me that's your shop book in your hands there," Hermione said dangerously.

"Uh, yeah, it is, actually," Neville replied cautiously. "Don't worry, I don't want you to balance the book."

"Then what in the world are you going to have me do?" she sighed. Harry gave Neville a friendly wave from Ginny's side.

"Don't worry about her, she's just crabby lately," Ginny said with a smile. Hermione sent her a death glare but the redhead seemed unfazed.

"Oh, Hermione," Neville said. "This isn't anything major, just a tiny favor. Could you just look and see if these numbers are right?"

"Oh, did you do them yourself this time, Neville?" Hermione asked, looking pleased. She held her hand out and took the book.

"No, not this time," he said with a grin, looking at Harry and Ginny. They looked nice, he thought. And Ron, well, he was just Ron. The ginger boy rolled over on the couch and snored a little.

Hermione's face scrunched up in concentration as she studied the numbers. "Oh, these are good numbers. They even corrected a mistake I made the other day."

Neville was a little shocked at that. Pansy had gone all the way back in the book to correct mistakes?

"Wow, these look fine," Hermione said, closing the book up. "Who did your budget today? Oh, I bet you finally hired someone new! Who is it? Anyone we know?"

"Oh, good job, Neville," Ginny exclaimed. "Look at you, stimulating the economy, creating jobs. I thought the day would never come."

Neville paused. He hadn't told his friends who he'd decided on hiring. They probably wouldn't react very well. "Er, just an old classmate," he said, trying to seem passive. He really didn't want to talk about it at the moment, because he knew that Pansy was a sore spot for just about everyone in the room.

"Oh. Well we'll meet 'em soon enough anyway," said Harry. "Glad you finally hired someone! But I'd still like to come round every once in a while to help you out." Harry yawned and stretched out. "Either way, I'm off to bed. Good to see you Neville."

"I'd better get going myself," Neville said quickly. "Early morning tomorrow. Thanks for looking at this for me, Hermione. Good to see ya, Ginny." He got a hug from both of the girls goodbye and Harry nodded.

Neville looked down at Ron and laughed. "Good night, Ron," he laughed before jumping into the floo.

Ron smiled, his eyes still shut. "G'night, Nev…" he mumbled happily.

A/N:

Wow, have I been industrious or what?

Ha, joking. But hey, I pumped out another chapter, people! Am I having fun with this story or what? I'm really enjoying all these subplots! The Draco/Astoria thing, Narcissa and Pansy's dad trying to hook up Pansy and Draco, and Rita Skeeter being… herself.

I can't wait to get deeper into this story. But first, I'm going to do a little damage control. I know that it might seem like Pansy is a little weird in this chapter, because of all the crying. But I think this makes sense because, think: how did you feel after the first day of your first job? I know I felt terrible, and I sure cried when the day was over (well, I was a waitress, so it makes sense). Imagine a person like Pansy, who's pretty much been given everything to her on a silver platter. I think it's realistic that she would cry, especially since she is dealing with so much at the same time.

Also, poor Neville is just trying to be nice to her because he is just naturally a sweetheart, even if Pansy isn't his favorite person (yet!).

Alright! I can't wait to see where this story takes us. I'm having a ton of fun, and I hope you are too!

Please review! I want you guys to give me your thoughts. Am I doing good so far? Like it? Hate it? What do you want to happen in this story?