Pansy stood in her small bedroom, smoothing her dress and trying to pick out a pair of earrings. Hermione's gift sat on the counter in the kitchen, set inside a gift box and wrapped with a bow.

She dug through the jewelry that she'd found in her mother's chest and finally picked out a pair of pearls. It was simple and classy. She looked at the mirror one last time.

A simple, square-neck floral print dress. Short sleeves, just under the knees. Modest and simple. No one could accuse her of being frivolous, that was for sure, but it would have to do. She hadn't really thought to bring any dress robes when she'd moved out of her house and she could afford to buy anything new.

She left her flat, gift box in hand, and knocked on Neville's door. He answered, clad in black dress robes, his bowtie still hanging around his neck. "Can't get the tie," he muttered, letting her in. "Oh, you really did get them a gift," he said, surprised.

She set the box down on his counter and beckoned him closer. "Come here, let me tie your bow for you," she said. He watched her as she concentrated on his bowtie. She looked nice, he thought. He'd sort of expected her to go to the wedding in something more… elaborate, but she was just in a simple dress, with simple make-up.

"I always had to do this for Daddy," she said with a sigh, pulling on his bowtie to make it perfect, and she stepped back. "There, it's perfect. Wow, Longbottom, you clean up nice!"

"Thanks. You look nice too," he said, embarrassed. She picked her gift box back up. "What did you get for them?"

"An antique jewelry box," she replied. "They'd better like it. It's worth a fortune." He would have assumed that she was exaggerating, but one could never know for sure with the rich pureblood families. "Listen," she said, "I don't have a date, and you don't have a date. Maybe we could arrive together? You know, just so we don't look silly showing up alone."

"Erm, actually… I do have a date," Neville replied. Pansy's eyes went wide and he felt a little guilty. "I'm taking Renee."

"Oh," she said, looking surprised. "My mistake. Well, it's a little early to be taking her to a wedding, don't you think?" she asked with a laugh.

"I was worried she'd say the same thing, but she didn't mind," he said with a grin. Pansy nearly rolled her eyes. What a dating faux pas. Going to a wedding together after only a few weeks?

"Good for you, then!" she replied, plastering a smile on her face. Renee bugged her, and she couldn't quite place her finger on why. Not that she'd ever tell Neville—he was too loyal of a person to hear negative things about his friends. Or "love interests".

"Yeah," he said. "I've got to go by Renee's to pick her up. See you at the wedding?"

"Of course," she replied, suddenly feeling nervous. She was highly aware that no one she associated with would be at the event, which meant that she'd be all alone. "I'll use the floo right after you. What should I say, again?"

"Tell the floo to take you to the Burrow," he said, stepping into the floo. "I'll see you there, Parkinson. 14D, Flitty Lane!" he yelled as he tossed the floo powder into the fireplace, leaving her alone.

She sighed as she stepped into the fireplace after him, her stomach filled with nervous butterflies. Throwing the floo powder, she mustered her confidence and said: "The Burrow!"

The Weasley home, Pansy had always heard, was a crooked pile of brick and wood, held together by magic. And the rumors were true. She'd managed to wander outside, and people were so busy bustling around that almost no one noticed her.

The backyard was lovely, in a quaint sort of way. There were large, white tents, providing shade for the party-goers. There were red-heads everywhere, milling about, talking to guests.

She found a seat under a tent that had several round tables under it. She sat at a table all by herself, keeping her gift on her lap and watching the people around her. She couldn't see Neville or his date yet. She silently wondered if there was a way for her to find Hermione now, give her the gift, and then get the heck out of there.

A few people were starting to look her way and the feeling that she didn't belong was getting stronger and stronger every moment.

She could see people beginning to gather in chairs facing a large gazebo, while Molly Weasley yelled for everyone to gather round to watch the ceremony. She got up and walked out, hoping to blend in with the crowd, and took a seat in the very back. She began searching for Neville. Where was he? Even if he was with a date, it would've been nice to at least sit with someone she knew.

She spotted Harry Potter and his wife standing up front—she guessed that Potter was the best man while Ginny was the Maid of Honor. Ron Weasley himself stood in the middle, his hair slicked back, wearing old traditional wizard's dress robes. He looked almost as ridiculous as he had at the Yule Ball.

In the front seats sat a group of red-heads, and just a few seats back from them was where she spotted Neville and his blond-haired date. He was smiling at her, and putting his arm around the back of her chair.

She hated to think it… but they made a cute couple. Renee looked gorgeous; her hair and make-up were perfect, her dress was cute and flattering. She was smiling at something he said.

Pansy sighed, her feeling of being out-of-place amplified. Music started playing and she looked back and gasped, along with the rest of the crowd.

Hermione Granger looked angelic. She wore a beautiful lacey white dress, and she was dripping in pearls. Pansy memorized the ensemble, storing the memory away for her own imaginary wedding. Her hair was shining in the sun, and it made it look like she was wearing a halo.

Who knew? Granger was a knock out.

The ceremony was beautiful, Pansy had to admit. She hadn't thought that a Weasley event could be so… classy. After it was over, the guests cheered and whooped and threw rice as Hermione and Ron made their way back down the aisle together.

"Time to eat, everyone! The buffet is right over there!" Someone yelled, and people began to make their way over to the food tent. There were lights strung around a make-shift dance floor, and soon, everyone was either eating or dancing.

There was a line of people waiting to talk to the bride and groom, so Pansy reluctantly stood to wait, her gift in hand. She was feeling increasingly more awkward, even more so when the couple and their friends saw her approach the front of the line.

Pansy almost rolled her eyes when Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter tensed up and placed their hands closer to their hips, where she knew they were keeping their wands. As if she was going to hex them in the middle of a crowd of their friends.

Hermione, on the other hand, greeted her with a smile. "You actually came," she said.

"Of course," Pansy replied with a polite smile.

"What's she doing here?" Ron muttered to Potter, who shrugged.

"I invited her, Ronald, be polite," Hermione scolded, trying keeping a smile on her face.

"No one ran this by me!"

"No one had to!" the bride replied. It seemed like this type of bickering was normal for the two, but Pansy still felt uncomfortable in the line of fire; she already felt out of place enough.

"I…" Pansy had to clear her throat. "I came here to express my happiness at your union," she said, repeating words that she'd heard when she'd attended traditional high-society weddings. "And to give the bride a special gift, for you and your posterity."

"Oh, thank you," Hermione said graciously.

"There's a gift table at the gate," Ron grumbled. Pansy's face flushed. She wondered exactly how inappropriate it would be if she punched him in the mouth.

"This is a gift that should be presented to the couple in person," she said, trying to stay amiable. "A traditional gift."

"What is it? Poison?"

"Ronald! Stop it right now." Hermione smacked him on the shoulder and then turned to Pansy. "Thank you. We really appreciate it. What's inside?"

"You can open it right now," Pansy said. "It's traditional for you to open it the second you get it."

Hermione tore into the gift box, while Potter and Weasley watched warily. "Oh. Oh my God," she said as she lifted the jewelry box out of its wrapping. "This is beautiful. Where did you get this?"

"It's a family relic from my mother's side," Pansy said, pleased. "It'll grow in value as you get old, and you can pass it down to your children."

Ron and Harry's eyes were wide. "This is a pureblood tradition," Ron said after a second.

"A gesture of goodwill from me to you," Pansy replied. "It means that I hope that our families can always be friendly."

"It means you want our families to be allies," Ron said, sounding incredulous. "Are you saying that the Parkinsons want to be allies with the Weasleys?"

"At this time, I can't speak for the Parkinsons, only for myself," she said, wringing her hands, hating every doubtful word that he said. "And, well, congratulations on getting married. I just wanted to come to give you this gift and… I'll be going."

"Are you sure?" It was Potter who spoke this time, surprising her. "You couldn't stay for a few drinks?"

Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah, you could stay for a little bit."

"Maybe," she said. "I'll let you get back to the rest of your guests. I've taken up too much time already."

"Thank you, Pansy," Hermione said. She just smiled and walked to the round dinner tables. She was going to find Longbottom, say hello and then take off. She'd accomplished her mission and she didn't want to stay any longer than she had to.

She found him on the dance floor. She leaned on a tree and watched as he swirled his date around. Suddenly, she didn't really feel like letting him know that she was leaving. She'd just take off discreetly and see him at home—

But then he saw her as she was turning away, and she knew that she couldn't just leave now. The song ended and he separated from Renee and began walking straight toward her.

"I think I'm going to go home," she told him.

"Already?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm feeling tired," she replied, a lump in her throat. Renee joined them, smiling.

"Hello, Pansy," she said. Pansy put on a fake smile.

"Good to see you again, Miss Waters," Pansy said cordially.

"Oh, it's just Renee," the other girl said. Pansy just kept smiling.

"Of course."

"Did I hear you say that you're leaving? Oh, but you should stay and have some punch. I'm pretty sure it's spiked," she said with relish. Pansy wrinkled her nose. Of course the punch would be spiked.

"I'd rather not. Besides, I've some errands to run tonight."

"Oh, come on, Parkinson. Don't be anti-social," Neville said with a smile.

"It's alright," Pansy said. "You go ahead and have fun. I'm going home." Neville watched her walk off, knowing that she was searching for a quiet place to apparate. Renee shrugged.

"Let her run off if she wants to," his date said. "Let's dance some more!" Neville did as she said, but he couldn't help but feel guilty about Pansy. She was so obviously out of place in this group of people—she truly didn't even have one friendly face, except for him. He'd been planning on asking her if she wanted to dance later, but he realized that it wasn't really polite, or even realistic, to expect her to wait around for him to talk to her.

"Uh, hold on," he told Renee. "I'm going to go talk to her. I'll be right back." Renee sighed.

"I'll go get some punch," she said with a frown. Neville didn't notice; he jogged in Pansy's direction.

She was standing under a secluded tree far from the party, and was about to apparate when he finally caught up to her. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Hey," he panted. "I was just going to ask if you were sure you couldn't stay for a little bit. Have some food or something?"

She bit her lip, looking past him to the party. "I just don't really know anyone."

"You know me," he said. "And you sort of know Renee. You can sit with us." Pansy frowned. She had no doubt that he would sitting and socializing with Harry Potter and his wife, and several more of his Gryffindor friends.

"I'm not sure," she replied after a moment. "I don't want to use you as some sort of social crutch."

"You won't be," he sighed. "There will be people who want to talk to you, or dance with you. I'll even dance with you."

"Really? What about Renee?"

Neville shrugged. "She won't mind sitting out one dance. What do you say? At least stay for a drink."

Pansy sighed, but he knew that meant he'd convinced her. He led her back toward the party, where the music and festivities were still in full swing. The sun had begun to set, and the lights around the tents were looking brighter and prettier.

They swung by the punch bowl (Pansy could taste the alcohol, this punch wasn't fooling anyone) and she followed him back to Renee, who was waiting with a hand on one hip. Neville didn't seem to notice, but Renee looked kind of mad—something that secretly delighted Pansy. Did it make her angry that Neville wanted her to stick around a little while longer?

Interesting.

"Let's dance, Nev," the girl said, sending Pansy a subtle look that only another woman could understand. Hands off my man. Pansy scoffed. Renee didn't have anything to worry about, but it was funny that she thought she did.

"Sure," Neville said, none the wiser. Pansy stood alone for a moment, watching the dancers on the floor, before feeling a gentle tap on her shoulder.

It was Harry Potter. She almost jumped out of her skin.

"Care to dance?" he asked with a friendly smile.

"O-of course," Pansy said, surprised. She let him lead her out onto the dance floor.

"It was nice of you to come," Harry said as he led her in a waltz. "Sorry about Ron. He's really not all that bad."

"I don't blame him," Pansy sighed, matching his steps. "I don't mean any harm, though. I'd thought that a gift…"

"He's stubborn. But Hermione really likes it," he assured her. "By the way, I wouldn't worry about the papers. I know how it is to have Rita Skeeter writing about you."

"I've stopped reading the papers," she replied with a smile. "As much as I can, anyway. It's all useless dribble, anyway."

"Try The Quibbler," he said with a grin.

"Maybe when I'm feeling brave," she laughed. They just danced for a moment, somewhat clumsily. "Potter, I have to say… Well, I've never…"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, understanding. "It was eight years ago."

The dance ended and he bowed before taking off to find Ginny. She was astonished. No wonder so many people loved and admired Harry Potter. He really was a saint.

She returned to sit down and nurse some more of the sugary spiked punch, feeling like she was able to take a breath for the first time in ages. She watched the party-goers dance and socialize; there was Hermione, at the sweetheart's table with her new husband. Potter and Ginny were dancing, laughing, and some of the Weasley brothers were standing together, joking and drinking in the evening light.

She didn't notice Neville approaching. "Hey, want to have that dance, now?" he asked with a smile, looking a little flushed.

"You were able to escape, I see," she said with a laugh, standing up and taking his hand. "How good a dancer are you, anyway?"

"My Gran made me learn, so I'm good," he replied.

The first song they danced to was a fast one, and when it ended, they slowed down.

"Let's dance one more song," he said, "just to cool off."

"You've been dancing all night," she replied. "I wouldn't mind if you took a break."

He shrugged, moving his hand onto a modest position on her waist. "It's a good work-out."

"And working in the atrium isn't?" she laughed. "I don't mind at all, Longbottom."

"You've only had one dance," he said. "C'mon, girls love dancing, don't they?"

Pansy caught Renee glaring at her from the corner of the dance floor, and that's what made her decision. "One last dance, and then you should take a break," she replied, unable to stop the big smile on her face. "So you saw me dancing with Potter?"

"Yeah. What were you talking about?" he asked before twirling her.

"He's really something else," she said. "We used to call him Saint Potter as a joke, but…"

"He's a good guy," Neville agreed. They were dancing slowly now, and he was glad for the break. Renee was hard to keep up with, and there wasn't as much pressure to impress with Pansy. She already knew him, and she really wasn't in any position to be skeptical of him, seeing as he was the one who wrote her paycheck. It was nice to just take a break from trying to astound his date—who seemed to have boundless energy.

They gravitated closer, one of her hands looping loosely around his neck, and her other hand resting in his own. It was probably the closest he'd ever been to her (in a context that didn't involve carrying her to the hospital), and he found that it was… pleasant. She was soft, easy to dance with. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable like he'd expected it to be. Her perfume was especially pleasant—or was it shampoo?

She was smiling, and for the first time he noticed how nice she looked when she did. Her hair was down, a change from the high bun she wore every day to work. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks were flushed. He knew that she was probably wearing blush or something, but it made her look soft, and lovely… She was looking around the room, unaware that he was gazing at her. He flushed and stopped staring at her. So, yes, his employee… his friend, was an attractive woman. She wasn't just a little teenager with an attitude problem anymore. That didn't mean that he could ogle her.

It was Pansy Parkinson. He couldn't check her out.

The song ended and she smiled at him. "Thanks for the dance," she said breathlessly. "Oh, here comes Granger. Well, I guess she would be called Weasley, wouldn't she?"

"Hermione would probably sound better," he said, feeling almost reluctant to let her go.

"I'm going to talk to her," Pansy said. "Just congratulate her once more. You'd better see to your date."

Oh, Renee! He looked around for her, feeling ashamed. He'd completely forgotten her. He spotted her at the table, nursing a drink.

Renee had decided to leave early, claiming she was tired. Neville had offered to escort her home, but she'd refused, not wanting to be any trouble. She promised to owl him to set up a date later.

He knew he should have been disappointed, but he was relieved.

People were beginning to leave. It was dark outside now, and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were beginning to wave their wands, picking up trash and putting away food. Pansy found him after a few minutes.

"Is it time to go?" she asked.

"I think so, unless you want to stick around to help clean up." That earned him an amused smile.

"Are you staying to help?"

"Not if I can help it," he said, and she laughed as they walked to find somewhere to apparate.

"I didn't know you were so bad, Longbottom. Sneaking out before helping? They should have put you in Slytherin."

"Side-along?" he asked, holding out one arm. She took it and with a pop they were gone.

They appeared in his apartment and she let go of him. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem," he replied.

She looked up at him, grinning. "I'm glad you made me stay," she said. "I had a really good time. Better than I thought."

"That's good," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I saw the gift you gave Hermione."

"She showed you?"

"She showed everyone," he laughed. "You made my bottle of wine look ridiculous. Where did you get that box?"

"It was an antique. Remember that chest we got from my manor?"

He hummed, remembering. "That's why we went?"

"Part of the reason," she said with a sigh. "I just wanted to get some things of mine before it was too late. It was just convenient that there was a gift in there." She yawned.

"Are you tired?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I think I may go to bed. What time is it?" He checked his watch.

"Almost midnight."

"HELLO?" a voice boomed around the room without any warning as the fireplace flared up. They jumped and Pansy shrieked.

"Ooh, am I interrupting something?" the fireplace said, in a voice that was oddly familiar.

"Draco Malfoy!" Pansy yelled into the fireplace, no longer feeling drowsy. "You scared the living daylights out of us! Shame on you! Where have you been? You worthless little—"

"Yes, yes, Pansy, are you through yet? I have to ask you something…"

Neville watched as Pansy yelled into the fireplace, glad that he wasn't on the receiving end of her rage.

"What makes you think I'll do you any favors, now, Draco?! You sneak into my flat, you don't even wake me up—you just leave a letter! Oh, you scoundrel, you left me to clean up your mess with your poor mother, and… And this is Neville's floo, Draco, how do you even know if I'm going to be over when you call? You are so rude! All of your breeding has gone to waste, I swear!"

"Oh, the two of you are on a first-name basis, I see," Draco said through the fireplace. Pansy let out an exasperated sigh, looking at Neville apologetically. It was obvious that nothing she'd said had gotten through to him.

"What is it you want, you git?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"I actually needed to talk to you and Longbottom, so perhaps you're the rude one," the fireplace simply said. Neville cocked an eyebrow. What would Malfoy need with him?

"I'm here," Neville said aloud.

"Oh, good. Pansy, you always fancy a trip to France, don't you?"

"Get to the point," she groused.

"You see, we were hoping to catch the two of you because we need witnesses. One for a bride, one for a groom."

Pansy was dead quiet for a moment, staring into the fireplace, hand on her chin and thinking. "Are you…"

"We need you here, Pans," Draco's voice was no longer smug or arrogant. "A witness for me, and a witness for Astoria. That all we need. You're the first person I thought of. I was hoping you could bring Longbottom along to witness for me."

Pansy looked at Neville, the question in her eyes. He was tired, and he wasn't totally sure what was happening, but he nodded. She turned back to the floo, determined.

"When do you need us?"

"Now. Right now. There's a portkey in the Manor."

"Which room?"

"The one that you were staying in. Just floo right in and grab the portkey."

"Alright, get out of the floo," she said. "We're coming."

Draco's face vanished and it was quiet for a moment. She sighed. "Longbottom, you don't have to come if—"

"It's fine," Neville said with a shrug. "I've never been to France before."

Neville had done many crazy things before, but never had he imagined that he'd be standing next to Draco Malfoy on his wedding day.

Well, elopement day.

He found himself in the French countryside with Pansy Parkinson, sitting inside of a small courthouse—or what looked like an official building. Pansy had insisted that Astoria switch clothes with her, saying that she couldn't get married in sweats and a men's button-up—so the two women were in a bathroom.

Draco, despite his snarky attitude earlier, seemed to understand the weight of the situation. He shook hands with Neville and thanked him for coming.

"No problem," he replied, sitting next to the blond man in the waiting area. They sat there, quiet, for quite some time, before Draco turned to him.

"So, how long? You and Pans," he asked amiably, trying to start a conversation.

Neville cleared his throat, feeling his face get red. "Uh, we're not together," he said awkwardly. Draco laughed.

"My mistake, then," he said with an embarrassed smile. "I just thought… you know. You came all the way to France just to help me and Astoria."

Neville didn't know how to reply. Draco was right—but Neville had just thought he was just helping Pansy. "We're just friends," he said.

"She's a good girl," Draco said. "She thinks I keep her around just to tease her, but that's simply not true."

"Are you talking about me?" Pansy's voice cut through their conversation and the two men looked up.

Draco seemed gobsmacked at the sight of Astoria in Pansy's dress (turned white with a few spells) and pearl earrings. Her hair was arranged in a simple updo. "We're ready," Astoria breathed, her face turning pink.

Draco was nearly speechless. "Just waiting for the… for the…"

"Officiator," Neville offered.

"Isn't she lovely?" Pansy asked. Before she had been tired, but now she was energized. "Draco, I need to talk to you. Astoria, you wait with Neville. Neville, you tell her how pretty she looks," she said with a grin as she pulled Draco up from his seat. "We'll be fast, don't worry."

"Sure!" Astoria chirped, taking Draco's seat next to Neville.

Pansy led her friend into a hallway, just out of earshot from the other two. "Draco," she said. "Tell me what's happening."

The blond shifted his weight and stood p straight. "I'm marrying Astoria, Pans."

"I know, but what about your mother? What about… I don't know, her family?"

"I'm sure about this, Pansy," he said, looking right into her eyes. "Our families don't matter when it comes to this, do you understand?" She looked at him for a moment before wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

"Oh, Draco. It's two in the morning and you're getting married," she said, smiling, her eyes shining with tears.

He chuckled. "Don't cry, Pansy. Seriously."

"I'll try," she said, her voice strained. "Oh, I'm so happy you called me. I'm so proud of you."

"Shut up," he said with a laugh, beginning to feel emotional. "I can see the officiator."

She followed him out into the lobby to meet with the man who would seal the two. He was a great big man with a huge white wig. He led them into a small room in the building. "Do you have your witnesses, now?" he asked, his French accent just barely filtering through his speech.

"Pansy Parkinson and Neville Longbottom," Astoria said. The man looked the two over and presented them with a piece of parchment.

"You two sign here, and we'll get this started." They were given a quill, and they took turns signing. "Now that that's out of the way, the bride and groom must stand facing each other. Now, you," he said, pointing to Neville, "stand beside the man. And you," to Pansy, "beside the woman. Are we ready to get started?"

The group nodded. Astoria and Draco held hands as the officiator spoke.

That was when the situation really hit Neville. He stood next to Malfoy, barely able to listen to the words as he watched the magic pass over the bride and groom's hands. He looked at Pansy, who was wiping her eyes. She had gone from wearing a dress, to wearing a plaid button-up and sweats, and her hair was slightly tangled from rushing to get Astoria ready, and she was bawling her eyes out.

And she looked beautiful.

The officiator snapped a picture of the four of them after the ceremony, promising to mail them all a copy before sending them off into the night.

They stood out in the crisp air. "So, how are we getting home?" Pansy asked. Draco shrugged and she punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Hey, I really didn't think that out, alright? I was a little busy getting married," he said, pulling Astoria close. She girl hugged him right back. "We can find a portkey tomorrow and we'll all go home."

"We'll pay for a room for you," Astoria said graciously. "It's the least we can do."

Neville and Pansy followed the couple down the road to the inn where they had apparently been staying.

Draco turned to Pansy at the door and handed her a few galleons. "That'll be enough for one room."

"One room? Aren't you the Malfoy heir?" Pansy asked, still a little teary, but able to sound indignant. He shrugged.

"I've got to save money now that I'm married," he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes.

"Git. Fine, we'll take it," she said, swiping the money out of Draco's hand. "You two have fun."

"Good night!" they called.

"I'll take the floor," Neville said, pulling some pillows off of the queen-size bed.

"No, that's not fair," Pansy protested. She was sitting on the bed, face freshly washed.

The taller man continued arranging a little bed on the floor. "I don't mind," he said, hoping she wouldn't mind if he stole a sheet or two. It was easier if he just took the floor like a gentleman, rather than getting into the debate over who would sleep where.

She heaved a sigh and reached down to pull up one of his pillows. "C'mon, Longbottom, we're both adults. I can't have you sleeping on the floor. If you get a sore neck, you'll use it to guilt me into doing harder work."

Neville chuckled and threw the last pillow back up on the bed. He was too tired to argue—it was already three in the morning. He dragged himself up and into the bed, being careful not to lie too close to her.

She blew out the candlelight and crept under the covers, being sure to scrunch some up between them so he wouldn't feel too uncomfortable.

"Two weddings," she mumbled, feeling sleepy.

"Yep," he replied, shutting his eyes.

"Sorry for dragging you to France."

"At least now I can say I've been," he said, earning a soft laugh.

They settled in silence for a long moment. He was almost asleep when he heard: "Everyone is getting married."

"Mm-hm."

"Do you want to get married? Not to me, of course. But I mean, do you want to be married at all?"

She listened for an answer, wondering if he'd fallen asleep on her. After a long time, he answered, "Sure, I think."

"Sure?"

"Well," he said, sounding tired, "if it was to the right person, then yeah, I'd want to get married. You?"

"Me?"

"Think it said in the tabloids once you wanted to get married. Have about twenty kids." He opened his eyes and looked at her with a tired smile. "With Theo Nott?"

She scoffed. "In his wildest dreams."

"Speaking of dreaming…"

"Sorry," she whispered. She fell silent. She felt the pull of sleep, and gave in.

When Neville woke, before the fog of sleep was lifted from his mind, all he could think about was how nice it was to wake up next to Pansy Parkinson.

The light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm beam onto the sleeping girl next to him. Her long, dark hair tangled across her pillow. She had abandoned all the covers to allow the sun to warm her skin.

He blinked for a few seconds. He really couldn't keep checking out Parkinson, he thought as he sat up. Not if he wanted to keep his sanity.

"Is it morning?" she said softly, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"It's noon," he informed her, looking at his watch. She sat up and yawned.

"Good thing it's Sunday," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Are you hungry? We have just enough money left for some food."

They left the room without having to gather anything. They'd come in just their clothes, and they had nothing to look after. Pansy was grateful for this. They saw Draco and Astoria as they walked outside.

"You're awake," Astoria said with a radiant smile, giving Pansy a hug.

"You two certainly slept in," Draco said with a smirk.

"Maybe because we were up all night," Pansy snapped, not impressed with his implication.

"Well, while you were relaxing, we were out setting up a portkey," he said. "It's time for us to go home. I've probably worried mother long enough."

"She won't be happy," Pansy said. "But she'll forgive you. Now, let's go."

They hiked up a hill to the portkey and, carefully timing themselves, grabbed it all at the same time.

The next day, they were back to business as usual. Neville still hadn't heard from Renee, and he had a feeling that she wasn't going to owl him at all.

"Well, what did you do to make her mad?" Pansy asked when he'd expressed his thought out loud. She was in the atrium down below him planting some seeds, while he was up on the ladder tending to the more delicate plants. Since having to rush her to St. Mungo's he wasn't crazy about letting her up there. He climbed down and wiped his hands on his apron.

"I don't know," he replied. "I guess I was just curious. What do you think I did?"

"What do I think?" she asked, amused.

"Yeah. A woman's take on things, I guess?"

She rolled her eyes and continued planting. "My take is that maybe she's just a twat." Her eyes got wide and she covered her mouth. "Er, no! I'm sorry!"

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear like that," he said with a grin. Her face flushed.

"Sorry," she said. "But if you're never going to see her again…"

"Have you thought that the whole time?"

"It's very possible that I wasn't very impressed with her on our first meeting," she said carefully. "She had very bad manners."

"I didn't notice," he said.

"Well, of course you wouldn't," she teased. He flicked some dirt at her and she shrieked.

"Watch it, Longbottom!" she laughed. The bell on the front door jingled and they stopped playing around.

"Customer," he said. "Go help them, I'll finish this for you."

Pansy wiped her hands and made her way to the front. At the front desk stood none other than Narcissa Malfoy.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Pansy said softly, hurrying to her. The woman looked somber, her mouth set in a frown and her eyes sad. "Is everything okay?" She was worried—had Narcissa taken the news of Draco's marriage that hard? She knew that it would be difficult, but the older woman looked pale and upset, as if someone had died.

"Pansy, dear," she said, her voice soft. "I'm sorry to come visit you here, I know that it's so unexpected…"

"No, it's fine," Pansy said quickly. Neville wandered to the front to see what was going on.

"Do you have somewhere to sit, darling?" Narcissa asked, looking around the room.

Pansy's heart began to pound. "What? Why?"

"I'm afraid I have some terrible news," she said, glancing for a moment at Neville. "It's your father, Pansy. He's had an accident."

A/N: Haha, cliffhanger! I'm so bad!

I hope this chapter was good! There are some parts that I still feel a little iffy about, but I'm not sure I'll ever be totally satisfied.

So what did you think? I'm trying to inject a little more romance—things are gonna start heating up, folks! I wanted Neville to realize that Pansy's one hot lady. And he should be ogling her, even if he feels weird about it. :)

Please tell me what you thought! Reviews/thoughts/suggestions are welcome!

-Deena