The afternoon reminded her of her childhood, where the sun lingered on the hazy horizon casting long shadows in the dying heat. A building hint of death magic in the air that always appeared as the night started their slow growth towards Yule. In the late summer heat, it felt virtually undetectable, nothing more than a slight bite to the breeze, or a whisper in the rustle of dying leaves.
She had always loved this time of year, right on the quarter points as the days shortened, the sun digging its fingers into the earth in the form of lengthy shadows as it fought to retain its dwindling power. It was a deep, ancient, elemental magic which threaded through everything imperceptibly, merely hinted at in the quiet moments of the fading year.
She paused at the garden gate, and took a steadying breath in the warm afternoon, taking in the beautiful view of the fields, with their muggle machines gathering the crops in large barrels. Even in the stillness of the countryside around her, she couldn't seem to rid herself of the mounting anxiety building in her chest.
The sensation of ants had passed about an hour previous. However, her skin now felt tight and restrictive as though she was expanding, her skin unable to keep up. Pansy thought a caterpillar, emerging from a chrysalis could relate. She reached for the wood and pushed, wondering if her skin would tear as she stretched her hand out to shut it behind her.
The Longbottom's mill house was pretty with its grey stone and blue slate roof. A river ran alongside, pushing an ancient-looking water mill to the side, moss and river weed clinging to the paddles as it slowly rolled in the current. It was beautiful now, but she bet it was stunning once when Neville had cared for it. She imagined him bent over, shirtless as he tended to the flower beds.
Pansy let out a breath, feeling the burning skin slacken. She touched her face and chest, and she did indeed feel feverish. Maybe she was coming down with the flu... it would explain all the strange emotions and sensations she had been experiencing. Her eyes lingered on the wayward flowers, her mind on gleaming skin.
"Pansy?" She looked up, startled as Augusta looked at her from the door, worry lines deep in the grooves around her eyes. "Are you well?"
"Mrs Longbottom. Sorry, yes, I am, how are you?" She shook her head as she tried to recover her composure. She offered a tight smile as Augusta stepped aside and motioned for her to enter the house.
"Please, come in." She smiled, a short, sudden twitch of lips before it disappeared again. A roar from the rear of the house distracted her, making her heart quiver and the hair rise on the back of her neck. "The moon rose early today,"
"Oh," Pansy said. She looked at the grandfather clock in confusion. She could have sworn that the moon didn't clear the horizon until quarter past four. She swallowed her nervousness down, a drowning wave of guilt filled her. "I apologise for not being here sooner. My business in town took longer than anticipated." She explained as she waited for Augusta to shut the door. She felt mortified as her mind skittered to the kiss with Ron. Swallowing again, she felt unable to believe she had been so careless. "Did he shift alright?" She asked, trying to keep her tone light and professional.
"I believe so." She nodded before wincing "It sounded as unpleasant as normal," She said, pushing an escaped thread of hair back from her face.
They walked through to the kitchen and heard a howl from the other room. Her eyes flew to the door like metal to a magnet, hoping to catch a glimpse of him but knowing it was pointless. She studied the wood of the door as though she could see through them into the room beyond.
"Pansy?" Augusta said again. She turned and blinked again.
"Sorry?" She apologised again with a frown, placing her bag onto the table. The healing books had been her attempt to catch up on her work while she waited for Neville to shift back again. She peeled off her jacket and hooked it over the back of the chair.
"I asked whether you wanted a coffee?"
"Please," she nodded, pushing her hair away from her face. She felt completely spaced like she was in more than one place in time.
"Are you sure you're well? I don't presume to know you well. However, this evening you seem… distracted," Augusta frowned as she carried the cup over, handing it to her before motioning to the chair.
She almost jumped when another series of barks came from the locked room.
Pansy tried to ignore the noise as she nodded. She frowned too, trying to account for her behaviour "Its probably nothing, just a little light-headed. I'm sure coffee will fix it, I've yet to meet a coffee I didn't like," she smiled straining to be heard over the growling. Lowering herself into the chair, her eyes drifted back to the door, unable to tear her eyes away.
Suddenly, the noise stopped, leaving a high pitch ringing in the silence of the house. Pansy felt her heart stutter, her eyes glancing to Augusta who stared suspiciously at the door.
It took two or three painfully long moments before any noise came from the door again. A slow, deep sniff followed by some frantic snuffling came from under the door before a long, pink tongue swiped the floor beneath before disappearing beyond view. She swallowed nervously. Why did she feel that the silence was that a bad thing?
Another few moments passed before a heartbreaking keening came from the other side intermingled with a burst of snarls. Pansy glanced to Augusta, hoping that this was normal behaviour. However, Augusta's frown seemed to deepen as she scowled at the door.
"I take it, he doesn't normally make that noise?" Nervously, she watched as the elder shook her head.
"Not to my knowledge. He usually quietens down after a while." She turned away and looked at Pansy, "It's probably because you are here, he can probably smell your scent," she said cooly.
The idea made her feel hot all over again. She cursed under her breath, why couldn't she find her professional demeanour? Especially with Augusta regarding her with cold eyes.
"I spoke to my friend, about his supply of Wolfsbane," She said, trying to ignore the scratching and sniffing at the base of the door where the tongue had been.
"You needn't have, as it turns out we will no longer be requiring your friend's services," Augusta replied coolly.
"Oh, really? Have you managed to source a more reliable supplier?" Pansy asked curiously, raising the cup to her lips.
"I'm sure any supplier I try will inevitably be linked with You-Know-Who, however none so much as yours." She advised
Pansy sat for a moment and scrutinised the older woman across from her, Her body language was too rigid and taut like a tensed up spring.
"Draco was a child when the dark lord invaded his home. If that is your only concern?" She started her Augusta turned her head away from the unpleasant conversation.
"I feel that is enough to look at alternative means,"
"May I ask why?" Pansy asked finally.
"You may, but I feel that everything that needs to be said has been said, everything else is irrelevant." She said flippantly.
"Irrelevant? I believe the relevance is currently scratching seven shades of Slytherin out of that door." She pointed to the quivering door as Neville went berserk behind it. "Have you even sourced an alternative supplier for the potion yet?" Augusta's lip thinned, reminding her for a moment of Professor McGonagall. "Excuse me if I misunderstood. However I was operating under the assumption that you were willing to do anything to ease this whole situation,"
Augusta looked down at her tea, and Pansy heard the slight rattle as she picked her cup up from the saucer. The woman was scared or angry, probably both. When she looked up again their eyes met. It wasn't a completely hostile glare, but it was nowhere near as friendly as it had been only that morning. She was used to seeing the distrust and anger in peoples eyes. It certainly wasn't an uncommon occurrence. However, after everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, she had not expected to see it here. She met Augusta's green eyes without flinching. This was not a conversation she was unused to having.
"Neville told you things about my past…" She stated tiredly and rolled her eyes when Augusta nodded. "And now you doubt my intentions,"
"He did, healer Proctor." She lingered over the false last name and waited as if Pansy was supposed to deny it. "I do wonder why someone would go to such lengths to hide their identity,"
"Such lengths?" Pansy bit the inside of her lip. Wanting to tell her about the hate mail and the stalkers. About the nightmares in the middle of the night and the constant fear of being watched and judged for things that were nothing more than a childish mistake. She wanted this woman to understand, more than anything to know how sincere she was in her intentions, but she owned this woman nothing.
"Yes, hiding who you are so that you can gain entrance into unsuspecting peoples homes. I believe that you are training to be a healer; Otherwise, Healer Sloane wouldn't have brought you here. I do wonder though, does he know who you really are?"
"Yes and if he hadn't brought me here, Neville would be dead." She said matter-of-factly. Barely noticing the quiver of her heart when she said the words. Augusta blanched at the cold fact. "Now, my childhood is not up for debate and nor is it pertinent, if you wish for me to continue doing my job, that is?"
"Neville believes that you will use him to make your name, sell photos of him to the prophet as some kind of freak show. My Grandson is very proud and private. I don't know if I can trust someone that has already lied, to keep this delicate matter from becoming a public scandal
"Firstly, your grandson didn't know me at school, not really, and secondly, there is nothing I can say that will change your mind, so if you want to believe Neville's stories of a frightened little school girl…" She shrugged.
"Are you calling my grandson a liar?" She asked bristling.
"You Grandson is many things. However, a liar is not one of them. I prefer the phrase, ill-informed. Now, will you let me do my job?" She gritted her teeth, hoping to hold onto her patience a bit longer.
"I think you should leave. We don't need help from the likes of you,"
"You need help from the likes of someone, and soon," Pansy retorted finally.
"I beg your pardon?" Augusta cried, "How dare-"
"How dare I, indeed!" She snapped as she stood, pressing her fingers into the wood. "Your Grandson is dying, and if you don't do something soon, it will be too late." She warned, pointing at the door where the scratting had picked up the tempo. "That man in there believes that by ending his life, he will make the world a better place. He feels like the world has abandoned him because even though he was the one to push people away, they never fought hard enough to help him. Neville needs someone to fight for him because he is tired of fighting. As are we all!" She grabbed her bag, pulled out a few potions that she had managed to get from Draco and proceeded to slam them on the table.
"These are for when he shifts back. Take these straight away, and these are for tomorrow." She said, pointing to the potions. Augusta looked at her, holding her chest, tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. Pansy wanted to say more but refused. Picking up her bag, she turned around. She paused, fighting with her decision. Fuck it. She thought sparing a glance for the whining wolf behind the door. She turned back to Augusta and sneered "And if you both decide to look past your closed-minded prejudices long enough to get the potion brewed properly then he knows how to send an owl." She snarled before turning and walking back down the corridor towards the front door. A heartwrenching howl followed her out of the door as she slammed it behind her. Apparating back to her empty flat where she collapsed onto her bed, exhausted.