A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and PMs, they really make my day! We're gearing up for the endgame here. Enjoy!


Chapter Thirty Seven

(Where Pansy tries to gear up, but keeps napping instead)

Anyone with a brain knew they were heading for an all out fight. Wolves were good at immediately picking up the subtle signs of body language so Posy knew Pansy and Neville were both tense in the shoulders, alert in their feet, and glaring daggers at each other nearly every other minute.

She kept expecting them to jump up and start fighting at any second only for them to start bickering like an old married couple before the tension came all over again.

But as soon as Susie brought up The Fern, all bets were off.

"I watched it," Susie insisted. "That plant responds to you like no one else, Pansy. Were there other factors that might've contributed that night? Possibly, and no one can deny that. But when you sang, it was like… it was like an aura of magic encompassed the entire room."

Pansy kicked at the base of the table, sending it clunking over several feet. Everyone jumped back to avoid collusion, Kingsley pulling Posy into safety. Neville was the only one who remained seated, and he didn't seem phased by the sudden movement.

"It wasn't me," she snapped, fed up and over it. She hated that damn fern. "Whatever happened that night was that stupid plant and nothing else!"

"Hello denial, my name is Pansy," Neville muttered under his breath.

"I am not… what did you call me that night? A siren? I'm not a bloody siren, Longbottom. Just because you say something out loud doesn't make it true."

He stood up to face her, hands clenching and unclenching in frustration. Fully understanding she spoke of much more than just The Fern. "What are you saying, that the Fern would have saved Annie that night? With or without you?"

She shook her head, face pinching in frustration. "It was the combination of 'factors' as the good healer put it. I couldn't have done it without being doped up on Glim and without that aura the fern provided. And probably not without being beaten to a bloody pulp either. Or don't you remember what Sean Barton did to my neck that night? Do you remember how desperate I was?"

She grabbed his hand and placed it on her neck, where the raised scar of Sean's vicious attack had forever left a mark. He pushed in with his fingertips, feeling the scar and glaring at her. But it was the second time she'd invited his touch and he could work with that.

"I remember every moment of that night," Neville told her, pulling her forward by his hold on her neck. His finger came down to the center of her chest where he slowly, making sure she paid close attention to what he was doing, traced upwards along the column of her neck. "Do you? Or have you forgotten?"

"I can't stand you." Pansy gasped at his touch, remembering the events that later followed. When she ran from him and he chased her, and finally caught her. Found her London home with her inside it and had what was surely the most honest conversation they'd ever had before. Immediately followed by the best sex she'd ever had. A culmination of events that led to her to do the unthinkable—and trust him.

Something she then told Posy to do.

And now she was shit out of luck for her bad judgment. She shoved his hand away violently. "You know what I haven't forgotten?" she shouted, poking his chest hard enough to bruise. "That you lied to me at Parkinson Manor."

"I've never lied to you," he snapped back.

"Oh, no? Let's go back even further shall we? What about the potions? The strength potions?!"

"What the hell-"

"You said you volunteered," she shouted, shoving him angrily. "Got zapped by a stray spell, zzzzap, and boom solid muscle? Oh-oh-oh, but that's not what happened is it? There was the first lie!"

"The Game of Questions?" he groaned with dramatic frustration, matching her tone, and shoving her right back. With way more force than she did. He quickly reached out to halt her fall, pulling her back to her feet.

They were going to fight, he realized. A physical fight, not just verbal. Because she wasn't fully recovered and it made her cranky. She knew it too and pushed his hands away once again, stomping from the kitchen, growling in pure aggravation. He followed, pulled as if by a magnet.

"In which you lied to me and avoided giving me a straight answer with every question I asked?" He was yelling. It was fine. That's what he did. He yelled at Damn Pansy Parkinson.

They went through the house until she emerged into a small yard, blocked off with a wooden fence and tall knotweed bushes. Stopping in the afternoon sunlight, she looked up and closed her eyes.

The gesture stopped Neville short. Rationally, he knew she was in pain and still terribly weak. She needed time to heal, but they didn't have time, and if they were going to get anything done, they needed to work out these issues between them.

For good.

Too bad it would be like trying to plug an active volcano.

"Why would I tell you about the week of torture I endured, you would've just used it against me later."

"Just like you used Posy against me?" she turned towards him, looking downright hurt. "I went with Pearl willingly because I believed you when you told me Posy escaped. Turned out, Glimmed up Marcus had her on a goddamn leash for my Mother. I gave up everything to get you to safety because it meant so would Posy."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Pansy dashed forward. Shoving him with all her strength. She started swinging her fists into his chest, furious and out of control. But her punches felt like air for all the hurt they did to him. He worried more she would further hurt herself and reached up to grab her wrists, halting her hits.

"I did not lie about Posy," he bit out, moving with her push when it came. He stepped back before darting forward and turning Pansy around, bringing his arms around her waist and locking her arms down by her side.

"Not only did you lie," she panted, her hair silk against his neck, attempting to break his hold. But she was weak and quickly losing strength with every moment. "But you got to go home with Posy and keep her for yourself."

"Is that what you're pissed about?" he whispered in her ear. They both went flying backwards as she threw her entire weight into him, trying to headbutt him. But he pulled them both back and nearly slammed into the door. Nearly.

They rolled apart, narrowly avoiding Posy who had come to watch their fight with both interest and concern.

"That I didn't come immediately for you?" he jumped up before she could, tearing holes in the grass, and quickly got her in a lock again. All he had to do was wear her out.

Which was happening far quicker than she wanted to admit. She broke his hold and they went full tilt, hand to hand combat that forced her to pay attention. She gasped with the effort but realized after only a few moves what he was doing.

The best meditation. He paced it just right—forcing her to shut up and focus on the movements. To block his attacks while not overpowering her in her weakened state.

Around them, Kingsley pulled over a wooden bench so he and Susie could sit and watch the show, Posy lowering to the grass and sitting cross legged. But neither Neville nor Pansy noticed the others, their only focus on each other. On moving and breathing until it felt less like a fight and more like a dance.

They didn't harm each other, it wasn't about violence for once. It was about focusing her mind, which had taken such a severe mental beating the last few months Pansy hadn't realized just how bad it really was until she was dealing with the aftermath.

How lucky she was to even be standing.

She didn't know how long it went on, only that the sun started to set by the time her body began to shoot off warning signs she needed to call it quits. Her torso began to throb where her rib had once been, her knees aching with overuse. She disengaged from him by summoning a burst of energy from who knows where, tumbling out of the way and rising up to a stop across the yard.

Out of breath and sweating, hair sticking to the sides of her face and neck, she turned just in time for Neville to stop in front of her. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms down by her sides again, but this time their fronts pushed together.

"I thought you left," he explained, continuing their earlier conversation. "You always leave me. You offered yourself to Pearl and then beat me unconscious, what was I supposed to think?"

"Could you not hear the lie in my voice?" she felt the last of her energy leave and she sagged into his hold, head coming forward to lean into his chest. His own shirt damp from sweat. "I was trying to get close enough to cut her throat open."

Neville's touch turned gentle, as gentle as he was able anyways. He remembered very well the words she spoke to him that night at Parkinson Manor. I never loved you… I'll kill you right here. Lies, all lies. But with Pansy he could never be 100% certain, and then he remembered something else.

Something she said.

That the last thing she remembered was stabbing the Minister. She didn't remember that she hadn't been able to kill her mother at Vistain's estate. Which, he thought was a good thing though she probably wouldn't see it the same.

"We both fucked it up that night," he said, holding her. How many times over the months had he wished he could do just that? "We should have gone after Pearl together. Instead, I lost you and spent the last year paranoid that she was going to show up and take Posy away from me."

She reached up with one hand, clutching onto his shoulder, the other came to his wrist, fingers looking for his pulse. "You're positive she's dead?"

Neville caught her eye and held it. "Pearl is dead," he told her, unblinking. "I twisted her neck until it snapped."

She winced, from emotional and physical pain. Pearl was dead, and Pansy didn't find any joy in it. "Where is the collar?"

"Broken," he told her in the same hard tone. "I pulled it off your neck in pieces. Believe me?"

It sounded… familiar.

It sounded right.

She tried to force the memory to return, but all she could recall with any clarity was the breeze through the trees, stars in the sky, and his heartbeat in her ear as she slipped into what she thought was death.

And why, of all the missing time in her mind, was that the clearest of memories?

"I don't know what else I can do to prove myself to you, Pansy," he said harshly, sliding his fingers through her hair and tilting her head up. "I just don't know what else I can possibly do."

"Don't let them make me into another pawn in this war," she felt her lip trembling. Mostly from fatigue. She wasn't going to cry—she was too tired for that. But she couldn't, and wouldn't, throw herself into the middle of this war after she was finally free of it.

"You're not a pawn," he whispered to her. "Vistain couldn't do what he did without you. But that's the difference. Kingsley isn't forcing you. He's asking. And he isn't asking you to kill for him… he doesn't need an assassin. Kitten… He needs a thief."

"Ha…" she breathed in sync with the beat of his pulse, feeling calmer with each deep breath. To be a simple thief again. What a pipe dream. "And you? What do you need?"

A strained smile. "Me? I need you, and I need Posy. Everyone else can get the fuck out of my way."

Her heart beat in time with his, steady and strong, the connection seeming timeless and unbreakable and leaving no room for doubt.

"Hey—what about me?" Susan called out.

Pansy and Neville both startled, completely forgetting they weren't alone. They both turned and looked over where Kinglsey, Posy, and Susan all sat. Eating popcorn.

oOo

The sparring match worked. Pansy took another shower to wash off the sweat and afterwards Posy sat behind her and brushed her hair sweetly, recalling all her favorite moves and sounding completely mesmerized by just how 'awesomely fast' the fight was.

"Neville trains me, but we've never done anything like that," her precious sister said, the mere sound of her voice lulling Pansy into a peaceful sleepiness.

"Both of us have been training for over a decade," she told Posy, laying on her back once Posy was done brushing out her hair. It didn't take long, the strands so much shorter than when she kept it long. "You're a wolf, you're more than capable of getting to that level."

But the truth was, what her and Neville had done was nothing compared to what she was capable of if pushed to her limit. Where her rib had been torn from her torso, the skin was scarring badly. Enough that it was tighter than she was used to and she had to compensate for the lack of mobility. But it was what she needed. Her mind felt 'knitted' together where before it had felt like loose threads. A good sleep and then maybe…

She passed out, Posy's fingers in her hair and her thoughts full of Neville Longbottom. A tenuous thread remained to remind her that she was permanently and forever linked to Ellis, though after so long in the Shards her mate bond felt like a bare flicker. Or maybe it was because of the collar… the lack of collar.

Did the bond only pop into being because of its effects? She wouldn't have accepted it otherwise...

Either way, she slept soundly and woke up to the kind of clarity most people take advantage of. Fully aware of where her body hurt and the reason behind it, as well as what she needed to do.

A clarity that she would not have if it hadn't been for Neville. She was fully aware of what he did for her, even as the temptation to be mad whispered in the back of her mind. It was only habit. They'd been at each other's throats for ages and all she knew of the Mind Shards made her wary.

There was also a bigger temptation. A calling. It said she needed to get off her ass and get this shit under control. Her to-do list was a mile long. Her and Posy were long overdue for a proper reunion. She needed to speak to Draco and visit Theo's grave to pay her respects. Needed to find out who Posy's real father was and make sure Seraphina wasn't lingering as she was prone to do.

She wanted to hunt down every single Faery Collar in existence and break them into pieces so no one would ever go through what she did again.

And, she realized, she wanted to be the one to twist Vistain's neck around and watch him take his final breath. But to do any of that, she needed to clear her name by fixing magic and ending a war.

So Pansy sat up and stretched, happy her body seemed to be healing but realizing she wasn't in the bed she went to sleep in. But this room had a massive window that looked out over a forested treeline she recognized.

Malfoy Manor.

At the end of the bed was a small black drawstring bag and once she opened it she found a pair of black jeans, a plain black tank top, and a new pair of boots. A sturdy belt with a pronounced, shiny, silver belt buckle.

"Neville…"

Another item for her list. She needed her gear. She had her beloved dagger, something she physically missed over the months but what happened to her boots? Her ward picks? Her sash? As she dressed, and what a feeling of fresh, clean socks, she heard Posy nearby. Laughing like a bell and sounding sincerely happy.

She folded up the borrowed fleece and sweats and left them at the end of the bed.

They wouldn't be needed again.

Then wandered the hallways towards the sounds of laughter and exercise until she found Neville and Posy doing their own routine in a wide open room where the furniture had all been moved aside. In the corner Narcissa Malfoy sat in her lovely finery, watching with curious eyes.

Neville had Posy doing drills. Quick, short exercises designed to increase speed. But Neville made it fun by changing positions every few moves, making it unpredictable and silly even as he instructed her to keep her knees bent and feet light. Correcting her form when needed and praising when she did something right.

It was exactly the thing Pansy needed to see. A glimpse of what her future could be instead of the hell she'd been living. Beside her Susan appeared, holding up an egg sandwich for her. "Looks nice on him doesn't it?" she said.

"What does?" Her stomach growled at the sight of food, her appetite back with a vengeance. As she ate, Neville switched positions again, causing Posy to jump after him quickly and burst into laughter. Her form went slightly awry, but she fixed it immediately without Neville having to instruct her to do so.

"Being a dad," Susan sighed in a womanly way.

It brought forth a feeling Pansy hadn't felt in a long time. "Hands off, Bones," she sneered between bites. "I thought you were sleeping with Draco?"

She said it loud enough to catch Narcissa's attention.

"Neville and I are friends," Susan said in a prim little voice. "And so are him and Draco."

"Huh, that's… unexpected…"

"They'll both deny it vehemently. But it couldn't be helped. They spent too much time together trying to find you. Too much time making sure Posy was safe and sound."

Another burst of laughter filled the room. "Stop cheating, Nev!"

"Go faster, Po," he mocked, leading her around the room. Neither had noticed Pansy had joined them.

"Unexpected," she repeated. "I thought that she would end up with Narcissa if something happened to me…"

"She does see Mrs. Malfoy every week. Art and music lessons," Susan smiled. "Posy's pretty good on the harp I've heard. Of course, she'd rather be running around playing. She has this magnifying glass so she can study everything she finds. It's amazing. She's wonderful and they're wonderful together."

Harp? Why did Pansy have no problem imagining her sister playing the massive string instrument? Or seeing her taking lessons from the bluenose Lady Malfoy on proper etiquette?

"That's what changed in him," Pansy said, loud enough for Neville and Posy to hear her.

They both turned to look in her direction, a flash of happiness across both their faces. "Good morning sister!" Posy skipped over, jumping into Pansy's arms.

She held Posy easily as Neville came to stand in front of her. He seemed ready to fight if she showed any signs of wanting to engage, but she simply looked up into his face, head clearer than it had been in ages.

Did he use the Mind Shards to manipulate and keep her? Or to crush her mate bond? The source of her insanity? That would explain why it took them so long. Long enough to silver her hair. And why she could barely feel her bond. It was buried under a mountain of Neville.

"You moved me?"

He nodded. "You slept for three days again. But we can't stay long. Bobbi's looking for us."

"Posy can stay," Narcissa said, joining the conversation. She effortlessly made space for herself between Neville and Susan, folding her hands in front of her expectantly.

"It's nice to see you, Mrs. Malfoy," Pansy said with a slight head bow. Giving regards where it was due. Narcissa was the only person Pansy truly respected, and so never gave her attitude, no matter how much she wanted to.

Narcissa's face remained impassive, her eyes taking Pansy in silently. The scar through her lip, the color of her hair. All the changes that showed what a fucking year she had. Then in a move completely unexpected, she stepped forward and pressed a gentle, motherly kiss to Pansy's forehead.

"You look very much like Tarrant," she said with a stroke of Pansy's cheek. "I almost can't believe my eyes. You know, he too was a solemn type. Not much made him happy."

And yet, Pansy just spent the last few months reliving her life with vivid detail due to the collar. Every memory she had of her father, he'd been smiling. At her.

"You have no idea the gift you just gave me, thank you," Pansy breathed deep, hugging Posy to herself. "I need to be alone with my sister for a bit, if that's okay with you all?"

It was and the room cleared quickly, Neville lingering at the door, giving her a glance. She set Posy down, immediately missing the physical contact, and walked over to him. Looking up into his face.

His gaze narrowed down at her, trying to figure her out. Idiot. Wouldn't he ever learn?

"Trust me?"

"Not even a little bit," he responded, keeping his voice low.

She reached out and took his wrist, searching out his pulse. It was becoming an obsession. "My head is clearer than it's been in months. I don't remember everything, but I do know what you did for me."

She walked away, smiling at Posy because she couldn't help it. Then she looked over her shoulder. "Stop shaving."

He grunted and shut the door, finally giving her time to be alone with Posy.

"She's right you know… Mrs. Malfoy. You do look like Papa," Posy swayed side to side, seeming pleased as punch.

"Yes," Pansy rubbed her palms against her thighs, smoothing down the borrowed black jeans. They didn't fit quite right, but they weren't some skimpy thing Vistain dressed her in. And Posy looked mature beyond her age, but still smiled with a childish delight. "Do I look so different?"

"No, I know exactly who you are," Posy smiled widely, reassuring her. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Little bit."

"Does it… hurt?" Posy gulped and brought a finger up to her neck.

Oh. Pansy fingered the scar around her neck. The skin there was rough, scarred, and bumpy and encircled the entirety of her neck. A wretched outline of what the collar did to her.

"Little bit," she repeated. She didn't want to lie. "But I'll be okay."

"Good. I have some things for you."

She skipped over to a far coffee table, one of the many pieces of furniture that had been pushed aside. She grabbed a faded denim backpack with patches of flowers sewn in and skipped right on back to Pansy. "Draco's nice, he saved my bag from being lost at The Offices for all eternity. Wanna see what I have in here?"

"Sure," Pansy knelt down and sat cross legged on the carpet.

Posy copied her and put the bag between them. "First," she dug around for a long minute. "Wait, I know it's in here somewhere… ugh."

She started pulling out items, searching for something specific. A compact. A bag of banana chips. A magnifying glass. Chapstick. Many chocolate bars. Several yards of string. A screwdriver. Two bushy hair brushes. A photograph.

Pansy picked up the picture and held back a smile. "Where'd you get this?"

It was of Pansy and Neville, the day they 'fought' at the Offices. It didn't move. But it didn't need to. They caught Neville mid-charge, looking determined, in his official Auror Robes. He looked powerful. And Pansy's fists were curled, wearing the leather jumpsuit Narcissa lent her, her cloak in motion as she prepared to block. Even though the photo didn't move, she could clearly see their movement.

When they fought yesterday, it felt like a dance, and the picture showed Pansy it looked like one too.

"Stole it from Nev's sock drawer," Posy went wide-eyed for a second. "He has a lot of pictures of you in there, just… saying… Ha! Here!"

From the very bottom, Posy retrieved two well oiled leather wrist cuffs. "Oh, sister, how did you get these?"

"There's more," Posy continued to dig deep, her entire arm buried in the bag. "I guess one of the Aurors found them at the manor the night everything happened. Ronnie made sure I got them… and… these…"

She pulled out a set of lock picks. Not just any lock picks. Pansy's ward picks.

Pansy reached out, unbelieving. Her beloved picks. But Posy pulled back, a wicked grin on her face. "There's a price, ma'am."

"Ugh, did you just 'ma'am' me? I feel old enough as it is, Po."

"You're gray haired now, get used to it."

"That's just rude," Pansy crossed her arms and pretended to pout. "Name your price then, young lady."

"These are mine," Posy said slowly. "My property. You were presumed dead, all your property was forfeited to me. I'm lending them to you on the condition you don't take them far from me. For instance, out of the country?"

"I see," Pansy nodded, thinking Posy might be the sneakiest member of the family. "No room for compromise here, is there?"

"Nope, take it or leave it. Final. Offer." Posy's smile faded for the first time, to be replaced with a deadly serious look that reminded her far too much of Pearl. The difference was there was no cruelty behind Posy's eyes. Her manipulation was one out of love.

Pansy reached forward, placing a hand over the cuffs and picks. "I choose you," she said to Posy's face. "I'll stay here, or wherever you decide to go, that's where I'll go too."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Posy."

"You've broken promises to me before."

There was no denying it. "Not this one."

"Nev knows when people lie."

"Yeah," Pansy took a shuddering breath. "Want to call him in here? He'll hear the truth in my words, Po."

A long silence followed as Posy considered Pansy and Pansy waited without breathing, without blinking. Realizing this is what Neville must feel—she didn't know how else to prove herself to Posy. Her words wouldn't be enough. Too many times in the past she told Posy that she would be sticking around only to leave again.

Finally, Posy placed the cuffs in Pansy's hand. "I believe you."

Then she crawled into Pansy's lap and hugged her. Smelling like a wolf, of the forest and the moon, and bringing a peace Pansy simply hadn't known before. It wasn't forced like the The Fern did to her. And it wasn't fake like what the collar and mate bond tried to do.

Too bad Pansy didn't think it would be enough.

"You trust him more than me?" she couldn't help but ask.

"He's like the best big brother ever," Posy said with open affection. "And… he doesn't lie. Pansy, he doesn't lie."

Not this again. "Everyone lies, Po. Maybe he doesn't think he did, maybe he didn't mean to. But there is no one in this world who won't lie, Posy. Don't ever think someone is incapable of lying, because everyone can and will. Do you understand?"

"Big. Fat. Bologna. That's what you want to believe. You always did. I know it was Theo's fault, I know it. It's time for you to trust someone for a change. Me."

"How do you know?"

"Because Seraphina had him on his knees, defeated in every way, but the moment she reached out to touch me, he didn't hesitate." Posy swiftly reached out and grabbed Pansy's wrist, squeezing it meanly. "This is what he did to her. He clutched her wrist and stopped her. I know I'm young, but I know enough. I know Theo wouldn't have done it for me. I know Mama wouldn't have, unless it benefited her somehow. But Nev did. I'm not saying he's incapable of it. I'm saying he doesn't do it."

Pansy looked to where Posy held her wrist, impressed with her strength and speed and totally annoyed she didn't want to play fight or go dancing, instead voicing a mature opinion Pansy couldn't outright ignore.

"What do you want, little sister?"

"I thought that when you came home, you and Nev would…"

"I acknowledge that you know him in ways I do not," Pansy said, pulling Posy roughly forward into a tight, unyielding hug. "So you must do the same. Understood?"

Though the situation had turned serious, Posy scrunched up her face as if she ate a bad apple. "No, I'd prefer if you just listen to me and do as I say. Duh."

Oh. Duh.

"No wonder he's head over heels for you," Pansy said, digging her fingers into Posy's side.

Making her scream with laughter and tickles.

"You're too headstrong for your own good," she told Posy. It was something Tarrant had said to Pansy multiple times.

It was a while later, after a proper, long overdue conversation, that she asked. "So, how many pictures of me does Neville have?"

"Eeek," Posy said, making the face to go with it. "Um. A lot. Lots and lots. And I stopped looking after I saw one… maybe I shouldn't have seen. One that is definitely child inappropriate. And also, you should be ashamed. Shaaammee."

"That's what you get for snooping."

"You would have done the same, sister," Posy stuck her tongue out. "And I definitely stopped snooping in his drawers after that."

Pansy threw her head back and laughed.

oOo

Neville sat with Susan, foot tapping impatiently. Down the hall, occasionally, he could hear Posy laughing. So he knew they were still in the house. He wasn't really worried about Pansy taking off, but it was hard to shake off the feeling that at any moment she could slip through his fingers like she had so many times before.

Susie had her stethoscope pressed into his chest, underneath his t-shirt. Mumbling about experimental potions and procedures and medical jargon he couldn't comprehend. "Deep breath," she demanded. Then she reached out and pushed into his knee, to stop his wild tapping.

"They're not going anywhere, Nev," she assured him. "She needs mental healing as much as physical. Let them have some time to catch up."

"I'm not doing anything," he pointed out. "I'm giving them their time. It's just… Time we don't have. Pansy is wanted nine ways to Sunday. Bobbi is going to find us. We have to move. We've been here too long already—"

Susan held up a hand. "Shush. When is the last time you slept?"

"Do you want an answer or you want me to shush?"

"I'm going to scalp you in a minute, you know that?"

"Then all your hard work will be for nothing," he told her. They laughed, and the tension relaxed. Slightly. "I can't remember. I think I dozed a bit at Kinglsey's."

"You don't need as much sleep as a regular human, never thought I would say that sentence but here we are…" Susan moved her stethoscope. "But you are definitely due."

"Have you talked to Bobbi?" he asked, ignoring her.

"Last we spoke, they tried to follow fake Lou but lost her almost immediately. Real Lou is still in Egypt. Has been the whole time. At least she's safe," Susan sighed. "A little annoyed about her likeness being used against us."

"Yeah, probably best if you don't mention Fake Lou to me… Ever."

"Sounds healthy. By the way, Draco is mad at you."

"What now?"

"Umm… this." Susan sat back and pulled her yellow blouse from beneath her belt, up her torso to where a thick black and yellow bruise circled her ribs just beneath her breasts.

"What the fuck, Susie? What happened to you?"

"You," she gave a half wince, half smile. "At the ball."

Fuck. He was such an asshole! He knew he shouldn't have touched her. "Damnit, Susan."

Standing up, Neville kicked the nearest piece of furniture, which whizzed through the air and smashed into the furthest wall. It exploded into several pieces.

Right by a doorway Draco stood in, watching with narrowed eyes. "You have something against my decor, Longbottom?"

"I'll pay for that," he sighed and came back to Susan. "I'm so sorry, Susan. God, that ball was weeks ago and you're still bruised."

"It doesn't hurt," she assured him, reaching out to hug him. One he didn't return. "It was nice to be hugged by my friend for once. It was a special night for me."

"What did I say about those hands, Bones?"

Neville and Susan looked up and found Pansy and Posy standing beside them. Maybe he did need sleep. He hadn't noticed their approach at all.

It was scary as hell. But Susan forced a smile. "You told me to keep them to myself, but as a doctor, that's basically impossible. You're next. Sit."

"I've slept all week," Pansy argued. "I'm fine."

"Just let me listen to your insides," Susan stood up and pressed her instrument straight on Pansy's chest. "Deep breath."

The look on her face was priceless to Neville. Pansy was strong enough to tear a grown man's head clear off his torso, but hurting Susan was akin to kicking a puppy.

She breathed in, although she managed to make it sound grumpy.

"Good, exhale?" Susan prompted.

"Fuck you?" Pansy fake smiled but she breathed out with the words.

"Sounds much better than the other day," Susan smiled sweetly. She turned to Neville. "Sleeping is necessary for a healthy, functioning body. Imagine that."

"Imagine," Neville huffed, but he was watching Draco glare in his direction and trying to figure out if the man was actually stupid enough to attempt getting physical.

He was definitely showing major agitation and Neville did not want to have to put Draco on his ass in front of everyone.

"My other question is how's your rib?" Susan asked Pansy.

"Gone?" Pansy shrugged, knowing full well what the healer meant and being a bitch on purpose but Posy poked her in the side for her bad temper. "It's going to scar, it feels tight. I'll probably lose some mobility."

"And your balance is slightly to the right, to compensate," Neville told her. "I noticed it the other day at Kingsley's."

"Want to remove the other one to make it even?" Pansy flirted, puckering her lips.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

Posy looked between them before scooting a little closer to Susan, giving her a wide-eyed look of surprise. "Are they for real?" she whispered. "This is not what I expected."

Pansy forced her smile away, knowing she had serious matters to discuss. Posy already agreed to take her to Theo's grave, which Pansy found out Draco made space in the family cemetery for. Which meant it was right there on the grounds. But she had another grave she wanted to visit before they did anything else.

"I have a question of my own," she said, just barely keeping her voice even. She had a lot of regrets about the last year. But there was only one she didn't think she could live with. "Where did you bury Hal?"