***Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out to you. I am still working on the series but due to real life, fests and my muse being a flightly mistress it's been difficult finding the right words.

Please trust me when I say that only death will stop me from finishing this story as just like you, I've been waiting over 90 chapters to see them get their happily ever after. Just because I'm writing it, doesn't mean they let me get away with anything! lol

If you are struggling between updates, please check out the other things I'm working on as I'm usually pretty regular with updates in general. these other works include but are not limited to
"Get Knotted" a werewolf Neville/Healer Pansy A/B/O fic (20 Chapters so far),
"Our Neglect" a Post-war Auror series I intend to start in earnest in the new year.
and finally
the "Panevi11e drabble fest". This latter one is an AO3 only fest hosted by the "Paneville Support Group" on Facebook. I recommend as it currently will include almost 20 authors writing between 30 and 35 drabbles or multichapter story based on 35 prompts. This will be available by December first. So if, like me, you are Paneville-Obsessed, I suggest you keep your eyes open :) Or if you would like to take part, please comment below or find me on Facebook either through the P.S.G group or via my name "GC Graywriter" :)

Thanks again for your patience...***

With an air-shattering crack, the world stopped spinning as they were forced back into the frigid December air. The trio appeared at the edge of a long hedge-lined driveway, the sound of other merrymakers surrounding them as they gathered their bearings. The other guests flowed towards the lights at the far end as though dragged by a current towards the imposing house.

Neville looked around nervously, checking his mask was firmly in place as he took in the other guests. Upon initially seeing Draco and Blaise, he had thought their outfits were slightly outlandish. Now; however, he saw that between them, they were indeed tame in comparison to the other guests that now surrounded them. Each costumer was more elaborate than the next, one woman-he assumed it was a woman, was wearing a huge silver ballgown with a feather tiara that would put a peacock to shame. Another guest reminded him starkly, of one of the many masked death eaters with their gunmetal grey skull mask. He swallowed and shivered as he turned back to the two surefooted men in front of him.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Neville whispered, leaning closer to be heard.

"My darling Matteo. You'll dance, you'll drink, you'll admire the beautiful ladies…" He saw Blaise grin from under his gold and black half mask, his eyes flashing with mischief as they approached. "Just relax and pretend that you're meant to be here,"

That was easier said than done, he thought as they followed people that had potentially followed the Dark Lord's progress with anticipation. He tried to rid himself of the notion as he followed behind the others, taking in the scene around him.

The southern ground looked remarkably bare without the snow. It always caught Neville off guard just how much the weather changed from place to place when apparating. The trees and hedges glittering with lights-the only thing stopping them melting into the sounding night, as they swayed in the breeze. Even the plants here seemed forbidding and overbearing, as though generations of dark purebloods had infected the soil. He shivered and not entirely because of the cold.

Suddenly, the driveway opened up into a large round area, presumably so that carriages could pull up and turn around in days gone by. However, now it opened up the house in all its ancient glory as it glowed n the lights, flashing its medieval design and elaborate stonework to any close enough to behold.

Music could be heard from within, and the leaded windows shone like beacons into the night, scenes portraying wizard supremacy over the muggle underclass glowing with unsettling clarity. He wondered whether the pictures were allegorical or whether they showed real events. He turned away from the disturbing images, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

Neville shivered, less from the cold than from seeing Pansy's home up close. He wondered what it must have been like growing up in such a place, witnessing scenes of torture and subjugation during breakfast. He couldn't imagine it. It was so at odds with his own upbringing.

A group of costumed guests seemed to have gathered at the door as raised voiced could be heard. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that the guest wearing the dress large enough to fit a Quidditch team beneath it was having trouble getting through the wide wooden doors. A few people laughed while others growled their impatience at the ridiculousness of it as steam gathered in a cloud above them. Blaise and Draco snorted derisively as the guest finally pushed through and disappeared into the interior.

With the blockage cleared, the other guests passed the butler with ease, the crowd before them thinning until there was only the three of them left. The butler looked down his nose at them before checking a scroll of paper that hovered just to the side. He reminded Neville of a potato fresh out the ground, full of dark wrinkles and scars. He wondered how many of them were from being in service with the Parkinsons.

"Names?" He asked, his voice whiney and high like a creaky wooden door.

"Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini And guest,"

"Guest?" The butler asked, looking Neville up and down before looking back to his list. "Mr Zabini and Guest are permittable, Mr Malfoy; however, is not."

They all stood motionless as the news hit.

"Excuse me?" He asked, his voice low and derisive. Neville stared as the butlers bored, dead eyes regarded the blond.

"I said that you are not on the list." He repeated with little to no emotion.

"But that's impossible." He said with a snort. "I am Miss Parkinson's best friend, I must be on the list."

"Well, sir. You're not,"

"I demand you check as I can assure you there must be some mistake,"

"There is no mistake, sir." The potato-headed man replied, "The Master removed you off the list, himself."

"Mr Parkinson?" Blaise asked

"Yes sir,"

"Why would he remove the Malfoy heir from the list?" Blaise asked.

"It is not my job to question why, sir."

"It's because he angered my Husbands wishes," Came a sultry voice from further in the doorway.

"Mrs Parkinson, A pleasure," Blaise said, offering his hand to her. She placed hers in his, and he kissed the back with a deep bow.

"Mr Zabini, I wondered whether you would be in attendance this evening, and please, never Mrs Parkinson. It's just Calliope!" She smiled as she appreciated his face before turning her attention to him. Neville squirmed uncomfortably under the intense gaze. He searched her face for hints of Pansy. Still, he saw nothing except possible the lips and the questioning angle of the eyebrow.

"Good Evening, Calliope." Draco nodded his head to her "Please, how have I angered Mr Parkinson?

"It has something to do with the love letters my daughter has been receiving from a Mr Gomez?" She replied with a raised eyebrow and a twitch of her plump lips. Neville held his breath at the realisation that they knew about the letters. He closed his eyes in regret before looking up at her again. She watched him suspiciously before she waved at the butler.

"Let them all in, Sanderson."

"But, madam, The master said-"

"Not to let him in. Yes, yes! I am well aware as I was present at the time. Allow Mr Malfoy through with his… friends."

"Are you sure, Mrs P- Calliope?" Blaise asked with another nod.

"Indeed, I am. Watching my husband fume over those letters was the most entertainment I have had in quite some time. Although I'm sure my poor daughter wouldn't agree. I am intrigued… Who is this… Gomez?"

"He is a student," Draco muttered as he stepped closer.

"Pureblood?"

"Yes, Maam," He replied, avoiding Neville's eye.

"Shame. However, this suitor must be utterly disreputable in some way to vex Linden so… I find myself already endeared towards him. It makes a change for my Daughter to do something so… interesting,"

"Madam, I really must protest-" Sanderson pleaded from behind them. "The Master will be most displeased."

"I am counting on it, now allow Mr Malfoy passage," She grinned.

She stepped back into the light, and Neville noted how little Pansy looked like her mother, with hair that any Weasley would be jealous to own. The amber waves fell about her face like liquid fire as she stood in her midnight blue dress clinging to sumptuous, plump curves which Pansy had not inherited. The dress was formal but nowhere near elaborate enough for the masquerade taking place. As though seeing the question in his eyes she smiled slightly and Neville saw the first likeness to Pansy he's noticed.

"This is one of Linden's affair, of which I have no interest in. I have paid my dues." She smiled and raised an eyebrow at him -another gesture that reminded him of Pansy. "So, You are Mr Zabini's guest." She offered her hand for him to kiss, which he did so dutifully.

"Indeed, Please may I introduce Matteo Palmieri, Of the Venician Palmieri's." Blaise introduced him, and Neville nodded his head cautiously.

"Ah, Mr Palmieri, Lovely to meet you. Are you over here long?" She asked, a smile playing on her lips. He got the distinct impression that she knew they were lying.

"He's here until tomorrow, and then we'll both be returning to Italy," Blaise interjected.

"I see, and is there a reason that he didn't tell me that himself?" Neville opened his mouth to say something when Blaise clapped a hand onto his shoulder, gripping it tighter in a warning.

"His English pronunciation is not great, and he gets embarrassed."

"We can revert to Italian if you like? I am fluent," She said, raising a daring eyebrow.

"He prefers to converse in English to practice," Neville nodded and tried to offer a smile.

Pansy's mother smirked and shook her head.

"Very well, Lovely to meet you, Mr Palmieri. Hopefully, we will get a chance to talk later. I feel that we would get on well." She winked and smirked before moving away.

"Thank you again, Mrs P- Calliope," Draco said as she waved a dismissive hand.

"Don't make me regret it," She nodded before she disappeared into the throngs of people.

"Salazar! That was close!" Draco breathed. Before nodding to someone's greeting as they passed.

"She knows, I'm sure she does," Neville muttered, looking around for the Matriarch.

"I'm not sure how, but even if she does, she still allowed you in, so I don't believe it's anything we need concern ourselves with, " Blaise said, clapping his hand on his shoulder where he had gripped it so firmly before. "And now that we're in, let's find the alcohol," He smirked, his grin infectious from under his half mask.