He swallowed thickly as he gazed up at the natural balcony that the stairs made overlooking the crowd. There Pansy stood, and suddenly he was unable to breathe. She was practically naked, only the slithering, silvery vines climbing up her form, hiding her breasts from view. He could see no straps to support the vines as she stood glittering in the light, posing for people to admire her. The hues reminded him of a wedding dress as she paused, her midnight hair pinned away from her face, allowing a clean pale line of flesh between her throat almost to her navel. She regarded the crowd before with thinly veiled disdain as her stare moved over them individually. He caught her eye for the briefest of seconds before her gaze moved on.

The disappointment was immediate and sharp as he watched her descend the steps. He had been sure that if their eyes met, she would recognise him. The devastation filled him before he remembered he was wearing a mask. A glimmer of hope as she arrived at the bottom and paused again to be admired, knowing all eyes were on her. She tilted her face up, as graceful as ever as her pale stare moved through the crowd of men, gathering with hands proffered for a dance. He pushed forward, feeling a surge of jealousy at all these men being able to ogle her. He met her eye and offered his hand also a slight quirk of his lips, hoping to catch her attention.

She chose another.

The devastation returned tenfold as the dark-skinned wizard moved forward, guiding her towards the centre of the hall where his hand gripped her waist. Neville wanted to growl as the pianist started up a new melody. The wizard was a skilful dancer, much better than himself. However, Pansy appeared painfully bored as she moved with him. Her eyes focused on a far off point as she followed his lead with ease.

The dress glinted and shone as it moved against the light. Close up, it looked even more like a wedding dress with its pale lines and soft swirls. The dress was cut low, leaving the small of her back exposed before the vines moved up and around her breasts. He could see the two dimples on her lower back, that he had traced with his fingers numerous times before. As she turned, the soft valley between her breasts flashed, reminding him of their time together. He wondered whether she still bore the marks of their time together.

The song finished and she pulled away as though wanting to touch him for as short a time as possible. They both clapped the musician for the performance as the other bachelor's swarmed forward, hoping to be chosen. And again his hand was ignored in favour of a man dressed in pale blue.

"There you are!" Blaise announced from his side, drawing his attention for a moment. "Where have you been? I returned, and you had disappeared,"

"I went to look for Pansy," He replied as he watched Pansy avidly, feeling both relieved and irritable. "And you looked busy chatting to people," She was alright and safe. That was the important thing, wasn't it? He chewed the inside of his lip, stopping him from raging as he saw the blue-clad wizard's hand slid over those dimples, skimming the top of her bottom. He closed his eyes, the hackles on his back, raising uncomfortably.

"You did what? Are you mental?" He exclaimed, passing Neville his drink. Neville knocked it back in one, letting the gold liquid burn his insides. The fire whiskey lived up to his name as the liquid left a fiery trail in its wake before burning like dying embers in her belly. His eyes sought out Pansy again and swallowed, his throat constricting tightly. "Salazar! Neville, that's fifteen-year-old fire whiskey! You don't just knock it back like cheap hooch!"

"I had to look for her. I couldn't just wait and hope she turned up. I found her mother instead," He murmured, ignoring his reproach before turning to the Italian, the alcohol still scorching his gullet. His limbs felt hot and leaden as he stood rooted to the spot.

"What? Caliope? Shit! This isn't good, Matteo! What did she say?" Blaise hissed pressing close so that there was less chance they were overheard. Neville could smell his aftershave, cypress and vetiver.

"She knew who I was and why I was here. She knew about Pansy and me. She knew everything," Neville swallowed, wishing that he had more whiskey to burn his worry away. Blaise must have noticed the look in his eye as he pushed his glass forward. Neville looked at him and nodded thanks.

"Calliope Parkinson is not a woman to be messed with, She's the one person besides Potter that I would've bet on to beat the dark lord. She's…" He paused and shook his head. "Something else! What else did she say?"

"That Pansy won't be returning to Hogwarts next year and that her governess has been recalled. Linden attacked her when he read my letter. She looks unharmed, but we both know that there are curses that don't leave physical marks," He swallowed the panic down, sipping on the whiskey this time, savouring the blistering heat that filled his veins as seemed to burn away the worry even if only temporarily.

"Shit!" Blaise swore quietly, "What else did she say?"

"Something about her husband unveiling his new creation, and that change is coming." He thought of the cryptic comment about hope as he felt it dwindling away in the arms of the blue-clad wizard.

"New creation?" Blaise frowned. "What could she mean?"

Neville shrugged as he watched Pansy dancing with yet another wizard, the music having changed while they had been talking. This wizard was dressed in browns and oranges, his dark skin adding to the exotic air.

"We need to get you noticed and dancing," Blaise concluded, "It's going to be the only way you'll get to speak with her without being overheard. Come on!" Blaise pulled on his arm, and he downed the remainder of the whiskey. He would probably regret it later, but right now, the pain was the only thing keeping him sane. They headed towards the edge of the circle where Pansy danced as gracefully as before. Blaise stopped suddenly, and Neville bumped into him. "Stand behind me," The darker man instructed. "When I hold my hand out, she'll take it, and I'll guide her to you, alright?"

"How do you know she'll choose you?"

"Please! We've known each other for eight years, plus she's seen this outfit already." He grinned wolfishly as Pansy cast her gaze around, spotting them instantly. Her lips quirk in a small smile as she approached them.

Neville felt transfixed as she stalked towards them, her dress longe enough to hide her shoes from view.

"Hey trouble, Give anyone a heart attack yet?" Blaise asked with a wink.

"Still trying," She replied as she took his hand.

"Not me, Pans. You met my good friend, Matteo?" He said grinning as he stepped to one side.

Pansy looked at him, her eyes narrowing in confusion. His heart seemed to stop as he waited for her to recognise him. "Why don't you dance and introduce yourselves," Blaise hinted guiding Neville forward.

Pansy nodded with a frown before letting Neville guide her to the centre of the floor again. He felt so nervous as he waited for her to see him.

"Hey love," He whispered, as they started to move as the music began again.

"Excuse me?" She asked, her frown deepening as she watched him, not a single hint of recognition in her eyes.

"It's me, Neville," He whispered again, pulling back to watch her face. He waited for her to break out into the smile, or her eyes to flash with recollection. Nothing happened, the frown remained as they moved.

"Neville? Neville who?"

"Um, Longbottom." He muttered weakly. He felt numb and sick at the realisation that there would be no recognition.

"The Gryffindor from school?" She asked, her voice dripping with confusion. "Why would Blaise be introducing me to you?"

"Because we're friends, at school,"

"No, we're not," She argued "We've barely ever spoken,"

"What happened? When you got home from the train?" He asked. Anxiety eating away at his heart as he searched for answers.

"Why? I don't owe you anything. You shouldn't even be here! If it wouldn't get Blaise into trouble, I'd make sure my father was aware of your presence."

"Want me to prove that we're friends?" He asked in desperation.

"Not particularly. No doubt Blaise has told you lots of juicy but irrelevant details about me. It's a prank, isn't it? You don't look much like Longbottom,"

"I promise you. Pansy, Please remember," he begged, she shook her head and stepped away a fraction sooner than the music took to end. She clapped again before walking away from him, shooting a confused glance over her shoulder as he stood watching after her in the middle of the ballroom.

Like a tower of glass bottles crashing to the floor, he heard his heart shatter as he watched her walk away. Had it all been a cruel joke and she had never loved him? Had Linden Parkinson Obliviated her? Had something else happened, too horrible to consider making her forget everything about them? He shuffled back to Blaise who stood looking just as confused as he approached.

"Hey, What happened?" He asked.

"She doesn't remember us, me. Any of it." He felt his throat tighten as he continued to walk. He needed a drink or three. He felt the presence of Blaise behind him as he reached the bar. He ordered and waited as a house-elf poured out three glasses of the whiskey he craved.

"What? How?" Blaise stuttered? "Memory charm? Imperio? Did she look vacant?"

"It wasn't Imperio, I'm not sure about a memory charm either. She thought you were playing a prank on her. This isn't what it's been all along, is it? You being nice to me and her pretending to like me?" He heard the insecurity in his voice and swallowed.

"Nev, No! This was never a joke. I vow to you, we're friends, and I would bet every Knut in my family's vault at Gringotts that it was never a joke for her either. She's been enchanted, that's all. We'll sort this out. Trust me!" Blaise slapped him on the back before taking one of the drinks. Neville grabbed one of the others before knocking that back too.

"I see that even you have your uses, Longbottom," Draco drawled as he took the final glass.

"Where the hell have you been?" Blaise hissed.

"It's called networking, I'll have you know!" He replied snarkily. "Some of us have to work for a living these days."

Blaise snorted dismissively, "Fuck your job right now, we have a larger problem at hand. Pansy doesn't remember Longbottom," He hissed as he looked around for eavesdroppers.

"Good, there may be hope for her yet. Nice to see she saw sense." Draco commented with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't mean selective memory, like that money you owe me from that new year's poker game two years ago that you conveniently have no recollection of. I mean as in obliviate-worthy, No recollection," Blaise urged. There must have been something in his gaze as Draco turned around, taking an interest in the conversation.

"At all?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Blaise shook his head.

The edges of his vision faded as though wrapped in fluff, and he found his tongue felt fat and clumsy, but he focused on that to save him from thinking the unthinkable. If Pansy forgot all about him, where did that leave him? It had always been a probability that they would be separated. However, Neville had never really considered what that would mean for them. For him. He had always thought of it as some distant prospect. He hoped they would have time. To be torn apart from her with her, barely remembering his name seemed unbelievable cruel. He was almost tempted to ask Blaise of Draco to Obliviate him too so that they could both continue in dumb ignorance.

A chiming of a bell echoed from somewhere distant and the chatter around them faded. He turned around following everyone else's gaze as a tall, thin man stood above them on the stairs. He immediately knew that this must be Linden Parkinson as the resemblance between him and his daughter was incontestable. Their features were both pale and sculpted. Their midnight coloured hair gleaming almost blue in the light. Two pairs of pale eyes regarded them all coldly as he held his daughter's hand.

"Good evening, everyone. Thank you for gathering here tonight at our humble home to celebrate the turning of the year. As many of you know, we have held these gatherings since the first Parkynson built this home in the fourteenth century. We have always been a family who hold with tradition and our strong family values, unmoved by the fickle changes and fads within the community. Most of you will be aware that my daughter, Pansy, is now of age to continue the family line. Yes, yes. Some of you may have guessed the main objective for this evenings festivities. I would like to announce the engagement of my daughter to Graham Montegue." The rest of the speech was drowned out by a high pitch whistle squealing between Neville's ears as a brutish man, he vaguely remembered from school, climbed the stairs and gripping Pansy's waist. He watched as discomfort and fear flickered over her face before the pureblood mask was restored. A glass smashed drawing peoples eyes as the glass tinkled to the floor.

"Matteo! Your hand!" Blaise hissed, and Neville looked down at his hands confused as to why his right was covered in blood. There wasn't any pain, but the sight of it and the eyes from around the room on him made him feel suddenly hot and sick.

"I need some air," He muttered, turning towards the front door, not waiting to see if he was followed as he felt the fire burning to escape. The squeal had turned into a deafening roar as he lurched towards the waiting front door, as though he was wedged between the tide and jagged cliff rocks in the middle of a storm.

The shock of the December air to his skin struck him instantly, causing the ground to tilt and sway underfoot. Stumbling forward, the only things that seemed to stop him from planting himself face-first into the gravel were hands on his shoulders. He felt to his knees and vomited, the fire burning just as much coming up as it had going down. Tears flooded his eyes, blurring his vision further as voices murmured above him. He ignored them as he tried to breath past the heaving as his stomach realised it was empty. Eventually, the spasms stopped, but the sick sensation lingered having nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Come on, let's get you home," Came Blaise's voice from behind him. "You're grandmother is going to hex me for bringing you home in this state!" His hands grabbed at one of his arms, pulling him into a standing position.

"I'm going to come along to watch," Draco muttered pulling at his other arm.

"I can do it myself," Neville protested as he tried to pull free, but his limbs didn't seem to obey his commands any more.

"Shut up, Neville," Draco said as they apparated back to Longbottom house.