Hello. This story is nearly complete so I've decided to start posting. The chapters are short and sweet and updates will be frequent. This story is totally on crack. Seriously. No idea where it came from. Lots of humor and romance. Hope you enjoy it! :)

2 Horny Ghosts and the Seduction of Pansy Parkinson

By Lady Ylla

"Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and think—How the hell do Muggles fold fitted sheets?" - Neville Longbottom, age 25, after one too many beers.

He shook his shoulders and cracked his neck. This was it.

The day.

The. Day.

No more being a chicken shit.

No more delays.

"No stalling, Longbottom," he said out loud. To himself. There was no one else around to hear him having a one way conversation. Just Hannah Abbott's front door. The girl he'd been trying to dump for three weeks now.

At first, to his major failing, he couldn't muster up the courage to say the words. Every time they caught in his throat like some insidious, dry crumb after a stale biscuit. Hitting just the right spot to make his entire body freeze and leave him coughing and sputtering for a glass of water.

He pushed this off to give himself time to figure out the right thing to say. Because while he figured out that he wasn't interested in a relationship with Hannah any more, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

The two of them had been through too much. They shared all their firsts with each other. First kiss. First love. First… time. And a whole lotta laughs.

Because Hannah was all sunshine and smiles, even when things got bad. Like during the war, and they all thought they were going to lose, she'd been his voice of hope. Always telling him how his golden brown eyes made her feel all melty. Falling in love had felt like the right thing at the time.

Now he just felt like an asshole.

For weeks after he finally realized what the problem was, that he didn't love her the way he used to, maybe that he never really loved her at all, he tried to find the right timing to let her know his true feelings. Surely, since he couldn't find the right words, he could at the very least find the right time.

But that proved twice as difficult. What was he supposed to do? Hey, Hannah Banana, thanks for dinner, by the way, I think we should break up.

Oh Why?
"Because I'm an asshole," he shook himself again. "One who needs to grow a pair."

It wasn't fair to continue the relationship when he wasn't feeling the same, so he dug deep, and managed to knock on the door. Finally.

Before he could even contemplate what to say, it swung open revealing Hannah. His sunny Hannah Banana.

Weeping.

Being not so sunny.

Her big, lovely brown eyes were wet with tears as she sobbed into an already very soggy handkerchief.

"Hannah?!"

She nearly ran him over as she fell into his arms. "Oh Nev!"

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

"My-my-my-"

"Shh," her tears crushed him. He was rubbish around crying women. Especially Hannah. He toed the door shut behind him and scooped her up into his arms. "Cry it out, baby."

He carried her through the tiny house to her bedroom on the first floor, setting her gently on the frilly white blanket she kept over her bed. He gingerly took the sopping wet handkerchief from her and winced. Eww.

Apparently she'd been crying for awhile.

"Baby, I'm going to get you some water, okay? Just stay here and take deep breaths okay?"

He returned only a minute later, water in hand, and a box of tissues in the other. It seemed she'd calm down a bit, not much, but enough that she could drink deeply from the glass. "Better? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she sniffled, voice squeaking. "I feel silly. It's… my… Bixxy…"

"Bixxy, your rabbit?" he wanted to make sure.

"He died," a hiccup. "I've had him since 6th year, since right after… right after…"

Oh.

"Aww honey," he pulled her for a hug, her wet face pressing into his neck as she began to sob again. "You got him after your mum passed?"

A frantic, snot filled nod. "Hey," he continued gently. "He was a great rabbit. Perfect ears, two big front teeth, soft white fur."

"Friendly and he liked to hop around," she added between hiccups, eyes lighting up with the good memories of her precious pet.

"And his little nose would twitch when you pet him," he backed up his words by petting her hair, the straight blonde strands stopping just short of her shoulders. "He was a happy rabbit, I promise."

"Yeah," she leaned up, with a small smile. "Thanks for making me feel better."

"Anytime Hannah Banana," except - aw hell - he was supposed to be breaking up with her! No way he could now though? Could he? Break up with her after her pet died, after finding her sobbing her eyes out. Oh no.

She wiggled off his lap and went to clean up in the bathroom, leaving him to panic. He heard the water running and wondered if he should just move out of the country. Where was far enough away he wouldn't feel like the biggest jerk on the planet? Could he survive on Antarctica?

Hannah returned, face scrubbed red and hair slicked back. "Will you stay tonight?" she asked, looking hopeful. Looking needy.

Yep. He was the biggest asshole. His mouth moving without his permission. "Of course, of course honey."

"Will you…" she wiped at her face nervously, her voice becoming breathy. "Take me away?"

He gulped. Was there another level of being an asshole he hadn't discovered yet? What was worse than an asshole? Douche bag. Prick? Had he entered the realm of stealing candy from babies yet?

Scum.

"Please, Nevvy? I want to be distracted right now," her smile turned shy, a little coy. Her fingers danced up to her chest, pulling on the top button of her sweater. Her intentions could not have been clearer.

"Distracted, huh?" he gulped again nervously.

Scum of the earth. WAY past stealing candy and straight into pushing old ladies in front of a bus. He bit his lip. Hannah, I came here to break up with you.

Just say it.

"Hannah…" he shook his head while wetting his lips. "Where do you wanna go, baby?"

He leaned back on the bed as she crawled over him, pulling the button on his jeans. "Just somewhere else, take me somewhere else."

Giving in, he pushed everything else away and focused totally on her. They taught each other how to become lovers. He knew every inch of her. Knew all the tickle spots, all the places that made her gasp, knew the dips and curves of her skin.

Flipping them over, he slowly, with great intention, began undressing her. Pulling each button loose on her shirt before pushing the cotton fabric over her shoulders, wondering where he should take her.

"You're on a snowy mountain," he said in a low voice, pressing kisses down the curve of her neck at the same time he pushed up the silk of the cami she wore underneath her button up. The mountain cabin scene the first thing he could think of. "There's a roaring fire though, to keep you warm…"

Fingers spread across her ribs and he dug his thumbs into the underside of her breasts, the silk an intimate barrier. With his other hand he ventured south and began working on her own jeans. "You're on vacation," he said against her neck.

"Oh vacation," she moaned. "Yes, please."

She wanted distraction? She wanted to play their favorite sex game?

He could do that...