A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! I love it! I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

Chapter Ten

(Where LB and Pan Pan agree to be Cordial-Whatever that means...)

Lester Hastings kept a polite hand on her shoulder, guiding her through the maze that was the bottom floor of the offices and the entire time he chattered at about a hundred miles an hour. Pansy couldn't manage to stop staring at his abnormally flat face, which looked as if someone had taken a two by four and hit him in the head with it at some point. Except for his nose, which poked out at a steep angle.

It was easier to tune him out while staring at his face though, so that's what she did.

Until he started laughing. "-for real though, best fight I've seen in awhile! Other than that fight you had with LB earlier! Now that was the best fight I've seen in awhile!"

"LB?"

"Neville Long - Bottom. LB. It's what his friends call him."

"Oh yeah? Well thanks Lester Hastings."

"You can call me Les!"

He opened the door for her and she immediately begun to like him. Maybe it was his adorable, if hyper, enthusiasm he had for every little thing. Maybe it was because he didn't treat her like a criminal. Maybe it was his kindness, because he gently led her down the hallway instead of dragging her around like Longbottom liked to do. Like he tried to do before Draco brought up the fact that someone had to go and get that blasted plant from her house.

She certainly wasn't giving it to Daphne, so she had no problem giving it back to the Aurors. Her problem was they wouldn't let her go get it. But it seemed Draco had just enough pull left in him to get Longbottom to agree to letting Draco go in her place. Which was just fine with her.

Because she sure as shit wasn't giving Neville Sticking Longbottom her address.

"You have to show me how to do that move you did. Poor Humphries. He's really a nice guy, but he barely passed the strength and physical testing. It's all new you see, the physical aspect of Auror Training... since magic is so unreliable. How on earth did you unbuckle his belt so fast? He was so surprised! Did you see his face?"

He sucked in a breath, his eyes winced as if he were reliving the moment. "That slap across the face with his belt had to sting. What's your weapon of choice? I myself prefer the wand of course, but you never know these days if you're even going to be able to use the thing! Ha ha ha!"

"Les. You are something else." she pulled her dagger out and held the hilt out for him.

"Wow!" he shouted with the joy of a child waking up on Christmas morning. "Would you spar with me?"

"Sure," she slapped his hand from below, sending her dagger into the air, which she swiped with her other hand. She spun around and jumped on his back, pressing her blade into his neck. "I looove fighting." she said in his ear.

"Wow!" he said in that same over enthusiastic way, his grin infectious. Then he attempted to flip her over his shoulder, his grip much stronger than she thought it'd be. If she had been going for the kill, it would have been a terrible move, her dagger still pressed against his neck as it was. But they were sparring, so she relaxed into the movement and landed on her feet, dancing away from him with a laugh.

And right into the solid form of Neville Longbottom. His hand came up and gripped her arm roughly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Behind him stood Draco, levitating The Fern. And behind him, stood about 20 other people all watching with rapt attention.

"You agreed to no fighting while you work this case." growled Longbottom.

"I agreed to no such thing. And that wasn't fighting." she winked at Les. "That was flirting."

Les laughed and the tension broke, just enough that she was able to brush off Longbottom's hand. She hated being led around.

The blonde from earlier emerged from the group. She had a no nonsense expression on her face and her stance said she expected her word to be followed without argument. It couldn't be more obvious that this was the boss if she had a big name tag on her forehead claiming just that. "I want this plant safely escorted back to The Conservatory ASAP. All of you! Back to work! This Circus is over. Longbottom, you and your consultant will work on this case and then I want her out of here. Have I made myself clear? Perkins, get back to work! You too, Humphries!"

She effectively shooed the crowd away and Pansy caught one last look at the overflowing leaves of The Fern before it was whisked away and out of sight. Draco brushed dirt from his suit and straightened his tie, though the latter move was likely just habit.

"I trust you won't be needing my services anytime soon?"

He didn't wait for an answer, instead turning and pulling Longbottom aside. They spoke briefly, and she couldn't make a word out because Les was chatting her ear up the entire time. Then Malfoy nodded with a huff, turned and headed for the elevator. Hermione Granger emerged from a side room, her belly poking out of an oversized silk shirt. "Malfoy! Wait up!"

"Not now Granger." he shouted.

Pansy felt her eyebrows raise and Draco entered the elevator saying, "I'm not coming back to work!"

He sounded like a fucking asshole but Granger followed earnestly. She felt inclined to be annoyed with him, but Pansy figured he managed to get her out of this mess she landed in. That had to count for something, so she would cut him some slack for being a grump. Still... if she were Granger she would knock Malfoy on his ass for the way he spoke.

The elevator doors shut with a chime and she shifted her focus to the two men standing near by.

Longbottom frowned as he looked down at her. "You did agree to no fighting."

"No, I agreed not to partake in any illegal activities while we're working together."

"Just fyi, holding a blade to someone's throat is illegal."

She couldn't help it, it was too easy. She forced a pout. "Jealous, baby?" Les completely forgotten about.

She watched Longbottom step towards her, his face morphing into anger. He really did hate it when she flirted with him. He didn't stop walking and he wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, dragging her along. Again.

Out of the frying pan, into the fire. "Do you mind not manhandling me?" she snapped. Bastard.

"No, I don't mind at all." Maybe if his angry tone wasn't so damn cute, she'd stop pushing his buttons. Maybe.

"Do you mind not being so ugly? You're hurting my eyes."

His grip tightened. "Insult me all you want, Parkinson." he shoved her into his office. "Time to earn your keep."

Years of training kept her from tripping over the office chair. She instead braced against the desk and turned, crossing her ankles. She watched him through her eyelashes.

"How do you earn your keep around here? I'm under the impression nothing is getting done. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."

"Keep pushing, Parkinson."

"Never figured you for the type that liked pushing women around, Longbottom."

"I don't. You're not a woman."

"Uhm…" she ran her fingers across the tops of her breasts, pushing the strings there down further. "I beg to differ."

"You're a devil. Sent straight from hell just to torture us."

"I didn't realize you thought so highly of me, LB."

She watched his fists clench, his jaw tense. It was just so much fun making him angry! She felt giddy all over again. "We going to do this the easy way?"

"I much, much prefer the hard way." she smirked, her meaning crystal clear.

He took two giant steps and leaned in, doing his best to intimidate her. He braced his hands against the desk on either side of her. "You are legally obligated to help me with this case. If you can't, then I get the immense pleasure of locking you up in a cell and watching you rot for at least a decade."

"You need to work on your dirty talk, Longbottom."

"Cooperate! Or else."

She leaned up, their faces centimeters apart. "Wanna know something about me? I don't like being told what to do."

"I'm not afraid of you." he said through his teeth.

She let out a breath. Now that was sexy. She could list the men she knew that weren't scared of her on one hand. Most of them were big bad wolves like Vistain and they weren't afraid of much at all. The other was Tony, her trainer. And now...

Neville Sticking Longbottom.

"Good." she nodded and felt much more agreeable. "I'll answer your questions."

"Tell me everything you know about Sarah Whittler." he backed up, a bit surprised, and crossed his arms and she realized something had changed in him. His shoulders weren't as stiff, his dark eyes weren't so intense, his jaw relaxed. She didn't make the mistake of thinking he was at ease, because his stance was classic defensive. But something had changed… whatever it was Draco said?

She blinked and slowly, so slowly, she smiled at him. She'd been staring at him for awhile without saying a thing. Let him think whatever he wanted to think, he needed her. And more, she would be satisfied helping with this case.

"Parkinson."

"Longbottom?"

He sucked in a harsh breath. Maybe he wasn't as relaxed as he seemed. "Sarah. Whittler."

Ah yes… Sarah Whittler. Sweet, cuddly, but stubborn and she'd known exactly how to handle a little girl just turned wolf. Sarah had spent the first few weeks helping Posy through her transformation, and Pansy had gotten to know the girl well during that time. But like usual, eventually she left, thinking Posy was safe.

"I think your main focus should be on her mate. David-"

"Rowe. Yeah, I got his name from your friend."

Maybe he could push her buttons too. "Rowe moves Glim for the brother's Vistain." Ellis was a menace... but Felix was worse. Far, far worse.

"Sounds like an important job. Why would he be missing then?"

Rowe was missing? Maybe that's why Sarah had been targeted. Pansy walked around the desk and looked at Longbottom's board, mostly to get familiar with his case, but also to break eye contact with him. "I haven't been in town long enough to catch up on the newest gossip. But last time I was here-"

"Which was when exactly?"

"Oh you know, sweetie pie." she looked over her shoulder at him and winked. He had been there, chasing her across Diagon Alley, into Muggle London, to the river. Right into Harry Potter's unwelcoming arms.

"Just answer the question."

"Three years ago, sugarplum. And even then there was a bit of tension between the families." she pointed to Fawley. "Never understood how someone so smart could raise a bunch of idiots, but then again, Matthias did decide to turn his kids just to consolidate more power soooo… By the way, your family tree for the Fawley's is missing a lot."

"And how do you know the families so well? Is your mother a werewolf?"

"Psh. No. Is yours?"

"My mother's dead." he snapped, and the words carried a heavy weight. She'd struck a nerve for sure. Did he blame himself? Was it a wolf?

"Wish mine was." she shrugged, hoping the words would distract him. It did.

"Don't say that."

"I wish she were dead." she looked him in the eye, so he'd know she was telling the truth.

"No one is better off without their parents." He walked around to his side of the desk, leaning against the ledge as he looked to the board. His finger brushed over the picture of Edina Nelson.

"You're wrong. Some women aren't meant to be mothers." she paused, realizing she'd been telling the truth for awhile. Strange. "Do you remember her?"

Surprised, he looked from her to Edina's photo. "What? No."

"She was a second year when we were seventh years."

"Damn. I don't remember her." he seemed genuinely upset about that too.

"Of course not. She was in my house."

"You know three of the victims."

"Yes… maybe I'm the killer."

"You're not a killer though."

She felt her eyebrows rise. She'd assumed Neville Longbottom knew everything about her… but she'd have to think on that more later. She tapped Edina's picture. "Sarah and Kath I know from years ago. Edina was in my house at school. I don't recognize any of the other girls though."

His hand rubbed up against his chin, his eyes looking down at her. "School… It seems like a lifetime ago, us running around Hogwart's…"

"Speak for yourself." Fear wasn't so forgettable. Trust the idiot Gryffindor not to understand that though.

He sighed. "Do you have to be so aggravating all the time?"

"Absolutely. Wouldn't want you to start getting all chummy with me."

"For fuck's sake…" he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Like it or not we're on this case together now. Can we at the very least agree to be cordial until this thing is solved?"

She looked him up and down. "You and me? Cordial?" she kind of hoped they'd be more than that.

"Then we can go back to hating each other properly."

She held out her hand. "You have a deal."

Because she had no other choice… Posy needed help and Pansy had no idea how to get to her.

oOo

Cordial his pasty white ass. Parkinson had two settings apparently: violent and flirty. They blended together seamlessly much to Neville's frustration. Cordial to her meant extra flirty and he sort of wished she would just stick her dagger right in his heart and be done with it. Better dead than dealing with this cute, teasing version of his least favorite person. It bothered him how often she resorted to violence, only to turn around and call him sugarplum or sweetie pie. He didn't much like Les so far, but when Parkinson got her blade against his neck while laughing… he saw red. She fought with grace, sure. There was a lot of skill there... he'd known that all along. He'd experienced it first hand. But why? Did it give her some kind of sick control?

Then Malfoy had the audacity to pull him aside and warn him off Parkinson, even though the lawyer was obviously pissed off at his client. 'Whatever is going on between you two? Just end it now. You don't want any part of this.'

Except the man just brokered a deal that had him working with Parkinson in one of the biggest cases of his career. They were already involved. But it sure as fuck wasn't in the way Malfoy thought they were. The very idea of it… he resisted the urge to throw up. Like he would ever… he would never...

You don't stick your dick in crazy.

And she was just making things worse. Sugarplum...

"Here." he directed her to the back alley where all the victims had been dumped. They'd walked there from the offices, while she filled in the missing information he had on the wolves. It looked even worse in the daylight. Trash littered the ground, overflowing dumpsters lined the graffiti covered walls along both brick walls that dead ended into a dirty stone building wall. "Down there."

Parkinson said nothing, thankfully because he was getting sick of her voice already, and walked slowly down the way, taking everything in.

Malfoy had said, 'She'll never be satisfied. Take my advice, wrap up your case, and forget about her.' in such a way that made it clear he would be making sure Parkinson wasn't hurt. And Neville didn't take threats lightly. And what the hell did that even mean? She'll never be satisfied?

And worse, there was another person looking out for Parkinson. Neville just didn't get it. Even Les seemed to be falling for her and the witch had held a blade to his throat! The sneaky witch managed to command loyalty effortlessly. Even Ron seemed to admire her after the fight in the training room.

It helped however, when Neville suggested Les look into Parkinson, specifically what happened after her last year at Hogwart's. He already knew most of her past, but what he didn't know was what made Hal say 'She's been through hell'. It might help him understand her better and Les wasn't opposed to a little research. It would help him transition into his new role as Auror.

Bobbi had asked him to also figure out why Parkinson decided to lift The Fern, just in case it was still being targeted. Because she didn't steal for shits and giggles, she'd been hired. He'd known what the plant could do, Susan had told him. But they still hadn't figured out how to unlock it… until Parkinson…

What a strange turn of events.

He watched her take everything in, silently moving through the cluttered street with measured steps. She'd pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail and he caught a glimpse of a long, sharp pick hidden in her hair. Even in her street clothes, she was prepared to fight. Whatever kind of hell she went through, Neville didn't believe violence was the answer. Not to everything.

"We've had Pats comb through everything here."

"The Patrol that touched my ass… what's his name?" she asked without looking at him.

"Why do you want know? So you can make his life a living hell too?"

She shot him a flirty grin. "You don't have to tell me, I'll figure it out all on my own honey bunny. I heard a rumor that magic doesn't work on this side of the city."

He ignored that 'honey bunny' and focused on her question. "It doesn't. Two blocks over, that's the line. You follow it north to south and you get a pretty even divide. Magic works to the west, doesn't to the east."

"What happens when you leave the city limit?"

"It starts working again, if it wants too…"

She stepped over a ripped up garbage bag and paused. "Right here is where the bodies are found?"

"Yes. They always just appear." he crossed his arms and tried not to be angry at his situation. He was torn between wanting to be anywhere else away from Parkinson and wanting any help he could get for this case. She stepped back over the same bag and looked at the wall directly in front of her, hopping back and forth on her feet.

She knelt down and started pulling piles of trash bags away from the spot.

"What did you find?" he asked, and walked over when she didn't answer. Reluctantly he began to help clear the area, hoping she wasn't fucking with him.

"Do you feel it?"

No, he felt rain in the air and annoyance with her. He went to say as much when she shot him another smirk. "Cordial remember?" she said in a sing song voice. She moved her hand back and forth in front of the brick. Then stood and stepped into the brick wall, disappearing from sight.

He startled. No fucking way…

Her head poked out of the brick and she grinned at him, her eyes mischievous. "C'mon LB." and she grabbed him by the jacket, tugging him through the brick wall. It felt just like going through the King's Cross platform 9 ¾ and he came through on the other side, the room dark and dirty and grey.

"Follow my lead." he told her, getting out his hand held flashlight. It lit up the room in a blue white glow and they saw furniture covered in dusty sheets, boarded up windows covered with black tape, broken benches along one wall. The wallpaper classic 70s flower pattern repeating in vertical rows peeled from the corners.

He expected her to argue but she fell in line just behind him, her dagger glinting in the light as it fell into her hand. "Do you feel it now?" she asked in a hushed voice.

He took a deep breath. "Yeah. There's airflow coming through here." Because as dusty as the room was, the air felt fresh.

They walked out and into a narrow hallway. One way was completely boarded off with bloodied planks of wood. "That is not a good sign…" and he had to agree with her. This place, magically concealed, right next to their dump site? No, it wasn't going to be good.

They followed the slight breeze the other way, his light reflecting off the mirrors hanging along both walls leading down the hallway. They covered nearly every inch, floor to ceiling, of the walls, some of them overlapping. "That's not creepy at all…"

"About to get creepier…" he focused his torch on a long, slender mirror. Dried blood crusted down the side.

"What kind of murdery fun house did you bring me to, LB? First dates should be movies or dinner or star gazing…"

"What girl wouldn't like macabre ancient runes written in blood?" he lifted the mirror from the wall, revealing deep gouges made in the dirty, peeling 70s wallpaper… covered over with dried blood.

"I don't know which is more horrifying, that or your attempt at humor."

He set the mirror on the ground and took out his phone. "Hold the light for me, let me get a few pictures."

She took the phone instead and began snapping pictures.

"Hey-"

"Cooooordial." she sung to him, snapping pictures. He resisted the urge to slap his cuffs on her wrists and instead started exploring, removing more and more mirrors and revealing more and more runes.

Then she turned the phone towards him and snapped another picture. "Oh so dower. You know I'm not really up to date on my ancient runes but uh… doesn't that one mean nullify?"

"I'll leave that up to Hermione to figure out."

He took the phone away and continued down the hallway. There was only one door, flanked by chipped and dirty mirrors. They stood in front of it, listening intently. "Did you hear that?" he said, turning the knob. It stuck. "Damn it's locked."

He brought out his wand and silently attempted to unlock the door. But as suspected his magic made a pathetic frrttzzz sound and white sparks briefly lit up against the knob before it died completely. "C'mon! Alohomora!"

"Ahem."

Parkinson slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her picks. "LB, you're behind the times. Magic is so out."

He couldn't resist the smirk as he gripped the knob and pulled it from the door, the mechanism falling apart under his crushing strength.

"Well you could have done that in the first place." she said, putting away her picks.

The old wood creaked as the door swung open and he shone his light into the room.

It was a torture room. Small, maybe five by five and just as dark and dirty as the rest of the place had been.

And it was occupied.

They moved at the same time, both of them stepping out and clearing the room before coming to the girl strung up in thick manacles, chained to the opposite wall. Eye bolts held the chains to the wall. Inescapable without a key. Or Magic. There was no other source of light but the ceiling had a built in attic fan, sucking air up and creating the slight breeze. He went to his knees and checked for the girl's pulse, moving her dirty, matted hair from her face and neck.

Her eyes blinked open, dull even in the dim light.

She screamed.

oOo

"Get the hell away from her, Longbottom." she pushed him away, her mind screaming at her. "Go watch the door."

Is this what she looked like when she finally got away from Jac? Dirty and broken? Pansy went down on her haunches in front of the whimpering girl, cuts and bruises covering her body, a dirty and torn slip the only thing she wore. Blood caked her thighs and arms, little burn holes along her veins.

Yes, she realized. Yes, this is exactly how she looked all those years ago. But Jac was dead. Pansy had killed him. She had plunged her dagger right in his heart and her dagger stayed there for hours while his body began to rot.

Dead. Jac was dead.

Shaken, she wanted to curl up and hide away, wanted to tremble and cry. But she made herself focus. Light skinned and dark headed, the girl looked absolutely terrified and the last thing she needed was for some stranger to start crying over her. Pansy didn't dare touch her.

Her voice, when she spoke, was steady and slow. "Look at me love, come on now. I am not going to hurt you."

The screaming quieted, followed by giant, crushing sobs. "I'll stop anyone who tries. Do you believe me?"

A pause, followed by a jerky nod and more sobs.

"Good. I just have a few questions okay? How many of them are there?"

"T-t-two… men…. Two men."

"Tell me your name, love. I'm Pansy. Pansy Parkinson."

"I'm Annie Stokes." she gulped, lip trembling.

Pansy held her hands up and slowly put them on the manacles keeping the girl trapped. "See my friend back there? He's an Auror. He works with Harry Potter. So he isn't going to hurt you. We're both here to help."

She took her picks out, belatedly realizing Neville was speaking into his walkie. Good. Better for him to stay out of the way, because this poor girl had clearly been traumatized by her male captives. She began working the first cuff, both pissed and happy to find it was a single lock. That meant it's easier to unlock, but it also meant they continuously tightened on the Annie Stokes' wrists. But Pansy had done this enough times she could do it in her sleep. It snapped open and the girl fell to the side, her arm flopping down.

Likely numb from her circulation being cut off. Pansy quickly went to the other cuff, repeating the process and wrapping her arm around Annie's waist before releasing the cuff. She fell into her with a sigh of relief, as if she finally believed they were there to help.

"Can you walk?" she stuffed the picks in her pocket and wrapped both arms Annie's frozen form, the girl's bones shaking.

"I don't think so."

"This is Neville. Neville Longbottom."

Recognition flickered across Annie's face, and Neville took a step forward. His voice was so gentle Pansy didn't recognize it. "Annie Stokes, I'm going to get you out of here and to some place safe."

No one in the world could argue against that, and Annie fell into Neville's open arms, strong arms that lifted her up and carried her easily. She immediately fell into continuous sobs.

Pansy didn't hesitate, she held her dagger ready and led the way out down the creepy, mirror and rune filled hallway, through the first room, and through the magical doorway into the alley. Misty raindrops filled the air when she emerged.

But she had no problem recognizing Marcus Barton standing at the end of the alley way.

"Marcus!" she shouted, feeling instant betrayal. She knew Marcus, idiot yes… but murdering rapist? It couldn't be. Not possible...

"Pan Pan? Oh shit..." he took off right when Neville emerged with Annie, Marcus's eyes seeing the Auror Badge pinned to Neville's hip.

"You bastard!" Pansy shouted, her vision going hazy with red. She would have never guessed that Marcus had anything to do with these murders. She reached into her boot and withdrew a smaller dagger and took off at a run. Misty cold air filled her lungs and she suddenly understood exactly why Neville Longbottom had gotten so attached to this case. In another universe, some other reality, she could have been one of these girls. Jac had every intention of killing her off as soon as he grew bored of her. She would have been just another victim.

"Who was that?" Neville shouted after her.

"Marcus Fucking Barton!"

She reached the end of the alley in no time and her feet were moving before she even spotted Marcus's head of dark hair bobbing through a crowd of pedestrians, heading east. People moved quickly out of her way when they spotted her dagger, her quick feet closing the gap between them fast. "Marcus!"

He turned to look at her as he ran and looked panicked, his pace picked up and he jumped over a tall fence between two buildings at the next block over. Damnit. She pushed a jogger over in her haste to climb after him, wishing she'd worn her gloves. Or that she too was a wolf that could jump over ten foot tall fences. Maybe she should start always wearing her leather jumpsuit and gear. Then she wouldn't have to worry chasing Marcus while wearing street clothes. Her jeans ripped at the knees when she landed.

She darted around the corner and spotted him just as he rushed away, but she had a clear shot. She took her small dagger, aimed, and threw it with deadly precision. It hit him in the back just before he would have gone over another fence.

"Ahh fuck!" he screamed, falling face first into the fence. He rolled up onto his feet as she ran to him, flailing his arms behind him trying to get the dagger. "Pan-Pan! It wasn't me!" he shouted, realized how close she was, and took out his wand.

He Apparated on the spot and the last thing she saw was his confused face.

"Damnit!"

oOo

"Just give her a few days." Susan insisted, pushing him out of the dimly lit hospital room. He'd taken Annie Stokes to St. Mungo's instead of chasing after Barton like he wanted. Oh how he wanted to give chase. The first big break in his case and he had a name now. Marcus Barton. Wolf. Youngest of the head of the Barton Wolf Family. It didn't even bother him that Pansy Parkinson was the one to get him to that name. He could kiss the witch for it actually! Because not only did he have a name, but they likely saved the next intended victim.

It hadn't been hard for him to take Annie to the hospital instead of rushing after Barton, because underneath it all, he'd signed on to be an Auror to help people. To stop the bad guys.

To be a good guy.

"Okay Susie." he smiled.

"You did good, Nev." she patted his shoulder and steered him towards the exit. "She'll live, and that's because of you."

He smiled again. Because of Parkinson.

"I'm not leaving until a few Pats get here. I'm putting a Guard on her until she leaves. We still haven't caught the ones doing this."

"That's fine but they better stay out of the way."

"You're the boss."

"Damn straight I am." Susie said, walking away.

Sometimes he wondered why he hadn't just married Susan Bones and been happy with her. He waited patiently, alert and focused, until the protective guard he'd ordered came up the stairwell and he briefed them on their job while they watched Annie. Absolutely no visitors. No exceptions other than himself or Harry. Then he amended that to include Parkinson, after remembering the soothing tone she'd used on the girl.

Who'd have thunk it?

Parkinson being gentle, what a thought. The way she spoke to girl, knowing exactly what to say to calm her down and get her to cooperate, to understand she was safe. He realized Annie would be fine around the spellthief, and that was a startling thought to have about Pansy Parkinson.

Neville made his way back to the offices when he was sure Annie Stokes was safe. The sun set during his walk, until night had completely fallen by the time he reached the front door of the offices. A few Pats made their way to the Corner, the closest bar most of them frequented after their shift ended. He waved at them and made his way down stairs, taking the steps two at a time. He wanted to know what happened with Parkinson. Did she catch Barton? Did she bring him in or something else? Something more sinister? She wasn't a trained Auror, she wouldn't know the correct procedure to follow.

Earlier, he told her she wasn't a killer… and she'd looked at him like he didn't know better. All his years as an Auror, defined by chasing Pansy Parkinson… her infamous robberies, the Star Crystal Ball, enchanted jewelry, scrolls and tomes, magical textbooks, cursed trinkets and charmed baubles, magical plants… the biggest, most magical diamond in the world... he thought he knew her. But the last few days had proved he didn't. Not at all.

Something had happened to her… something that changed her from some wimpy, bully of a schoolgirl into a confident, in control witch who could handle herself and those around her.

He opened his office door and found her spinning around in his chair, his dart between her fingers.

"Pan Pan."

"LB."

The dart flew through the air and landed in picture next to the door. He raised an eyebrow and looked.

She'd replaced the picture of herself with a picture of Marcus Barton, a big red X through his face. "You didn't catch him?"

Her face turned determined, her beautiful, unique eyes narrowing… but not at him. He wasn't her prey anymore.

"Not yet."