Dreams of lace and fire filled his mind like dancing dust motes in a shaft of sunlight, circling each other in a graceful ballet. Each bowed and moved too and frow until they spun together seamlessly, but the nature of fire was not to be denied, and the lace caught alight sending flares darting around him. Neville stood there as the flickers grew, surrounding him in their heat, stealing the air and filling his lungs with smoke.

Fighting to breathe and desperate, he searched for a way out between the columns of fire that surrounded him like prison bars. Someone called him. He could hear her in the distance, beckoning him, and he wanted nothing more than to escape his fiery incarceration, but the fire kept him pinned.

Pansy wasn't his any more, what would she care if he died in the inferno? Her mother's voice swirled around in his mind 'Change is coming' as cigarette smoke seemed to fill his nostrils. He began coughing as the foul stench seemed to coagulate in his lungs. Gasping and choking into consciousness, he sat bolt upright. Fear gripped his insides like a vice before his hangover slapped him in the face.

"Merlin," He muttered as his temperature plummeted. He knew he was going to be sick. He looked around and noticed that someone had left a bucket by his bedside. He grabbed it just in time as his head split open with each retch. When he thought that the worse of it was over, he lay back down, covering his head with his pillow to wallow in his pain and misery.

Memories and nightmares jumbled together until he was almost sure that the whole affair had been a terrible dream. Only the churning of his stomach and the throbbing of his head told him that something awful had actually happened. He took each breath with careful consideration. Holding his body as still as possible, he tried to not aggravate the pain.

There was a knock at the door which seemed to reverberate around his skull until he cried out.

"Neville?" His gran whispered as she entered the room. He wasn't sure he had ever heard her as gentle as she was right now. "Come on now, It's noon, and I need help." She croaked from his bedside. Groaning again he made no attempt to move as he pulled the pillow tighter over his head. "Come on, drink this, you'll feel better, one of your friends left it for you last night." She pressed something cold and smooth into his hand before patting him gently on the shoulder. "See you downstairs in a little while, my boy,"

He heard the door close softly behind her before the floorboards creaked down the hall. He gingerly moved the pillow off his face and blinked at the vial in his hand. The clear red liquid sloshed around, and he smiled slightly, knowing it had been Blaise who had considered his state this morning. He knocked back the Pepperup potion and grimaced as the steam built and spewed from his ears, and waited. Steadily, the pressure behind his eyeballs receded, and the churning of his stomach calmed. He sat up and took a deep breath, his body heavy with disappointment and misery as he caught a glimpse of his costume which hung from hangers on the nearby wardrobe.

Rubbing his face, he turned to get out of bed, his Mimbulus Mimbletonia whining at him.

"I know, I know. I'll get you moved into the greenhouse today. I've got to make room in there for you first." He muttered at the plant before reaching for his clothes. He paused for a moment as a wave of sadness washed over him. The silence in his room seemed to echo how alone he felt. The one person he had finally connected with and fallen for no longer remembered him or their time together. He squeezed his eyes together as he tried to hold the tears at bay. There was no point dwelling on it. There was nothing he could do about it. Pansy was no longer his, she was engaged to a caveman of a wizard who only wanted her for the money and status that came with the Slytherin union.

He stood up finally and started to pull his vest on, before sliding the flannel shirt over his arms, the soft, pliable material feeling comfortable and warm against his skin. He would need all the comfort he could get today. His mood was far from festive. He pulled up and fastened his trousers before slowly making his way to the door. The scent of sausages filled the air as he moved towards the bathroom. The aroma usually made his stomach growl hungrily, but this morning, it only churned his insides like butter.

Once his morning ablutions were done, he descended the stairs and into the kitchen where his gran looked up from the paper, flashing images of Pansy and Montegue looking up at her from their engagement announcement. Even upside down, he could tell that she was uncomfortable.

"Morning, my boy. How are you feeling?" she asked gently. Closing the paper quickly and shifting it to the side.

He waved, not wanting to talk, as he lowered himself into the chair. He knew that his gran wouldn't leave him alone, and he would need to speak at some point. Still, he was hoping that this one time, she would take the hint.

"Do you want breakfast?" She asked as she floated a cup of tea over to him. It landed in front of him with a satisfyingly heavy thump, and he shook his head. He was sure that if he ate anything, it would come right back up again. "It'll be alright in the end, you'll see. These things have a way of working out. Don't give up hope," She reached out and pat his clenched fist, giving it a comforting squeeze. He nodded, non-committally as he took hold of the mug of tea. "Now, today, the greenhouse needs sorting so that the Mimbletonia can fit in there and then you've got to move that blasted thing out of your room, change your sheets, I'll need help with the food. The sausage rolls, stuffing, and Yorkshires can be cooked ahead, ready for the dinner. We've got nine coming so we need to make enough.

There was a noise at the door as an unfamiliar tawny owl stood, glaring in with its solid black eyes. It knocked at the glass with its beak impatiently drawing both their eyes. His gran slowly got up to pull open the dutch door then stood back as the bird flew in, landing on the work surface. Ruffling its feathers, it looked around, darting glances between Neville and his gran as she leant forward for the message. It went to peck her, but she taped it with her wand.

"Don't even think about it, Bird! Or I'll turn you into a feather duster!" she warned. It blinked at her for a long moment before it seemed to reconsider. It offered its leg, and she took the scroll rolled in the harness on its foot before giving it some treats to munch on. The cold air rushed into the small kitchen where the door had been left open, but she didn't seem to notice.

Her old eyes scanned the missive before looking at him for a moment, he could see the cogs whirring in her mind as she opened her mouth to speak. "Make that ten for dinner, Uncle Ptolomy will be coming too, now that Issy's passed." She said distantly before tapping the letter against her lips. "So much to do. Drink your tea, and we'll crack on," She said with a nod as she patted his shoulder before leaving the kitchen, sliding the note into her pocket as she left.

Neville frowned as he was left, staring at the owl, who glared back. It seemed to huff at him before flying back out the open door. He stood and moved to close it as he shivered against the cold air. Ten for dinner? That had to be some sort of a record. He knew who most of them would be but wondered who three places would be filled with. His uncle Algie and aunt Enid were definitely coming, as was his aunt Ursuline with her brother Humphrey. Now his gran's nephew Ptolomy was coming, who were the other three? His aunt Josephina and uncle Randolph maybe? Or maybe, Florence and Alfred? And possibly one of their children? He didn't know, but his gran was right, there was so much to do.

He slumped back into his chair and rested his head on the table, unable to find the motivation to do any of it. He thought of the curves of her hips and how wonderful she smelled as he held her close. The soul-deep contentment he felt as she slept in his arms and the giddy feeling when she laughed at his jokes suddenly stabbed at him as tears gathered in his eyes. He missed her like he missed his parents, there but just out of reach. He pulled the paper around so that he could see the article. He found it with no trouble and watched as her smiling-but-bored face looked out of the newspaper. Her eyes looked slightly red, and he wondered if she had been crying. Touching the paper at her cheek, he prayed to every power and divine being that they could be reunited but knew not to hold his breath. He tore her from the page, parting her from her intended so that at least in his world, she was free of him. Regardless of how much it hurt, he couldn't bear not to. Just to see her would ease something inside of his heart so that he knew that she wasn't gone forever.

"Neville?" His gran called, and he knew he had to get moving, moping would have to wait until after Christmas when the family was gone, and it was only he and his gran again. He dreaded the thought of going back to Hogwarts, knowing that she wouldn't be there with him. He gripped the mug also and knocked the liquid back before standing. He would start in the greenhouse. If he could get rid of the Mimbletonia from his room, it would give him more room to change the sheets.

He had to sit down for a moment, using the makeshift chair he had transfigured from the Saga newspaper as he waited for the dizziness to clear. It had taken him an hour, but he had finally managed to make space in the greenhouse for the Mimbletonia. He had also managed to get the plant out of his room and down the stairs without covering the house in stink sap. It really was an achievement on his part. However, in his attempt to get it manoeuvred into the corner of the greenhouse, he accidentally sent a handful of Puffapod beans scuttling along the floor, which, upon impact exploded into bloom, sending their spores into the air, making the room spin.

They were harmless luckily, only causing dizziness and nothing more. However, Neville still pinched his eyes closed as he waited for the room to stop spinning.

"Oh, that looks better there! Seems to be perking up already too, looked a bit droopy in your room with you away at school," His uncle announced from the door, a gust of the chilled air clearing the spores and his dizziness. "Are you alright?" Algie asked as he got closer.

"Puffapods," Neville mumbled.

"Ah, they're not the best plant to deal with after a heavy night. I sympathise. Gussie said you needed a brew and a good talking to,"

Neville groaned and shook his head. "I'll take the tea, but can we skip the talk?"

"Sounds like a plan, I wasn't very good at talking to girls myself, so I'd be hopeless giving you advice."

Neville nodded and then closed his eyes again as another wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. The Pepperup potion didn't seem to be helping him as much as it had at the Halloween party. He wondered whether it was because Pansy hadn't been there to force him to drink water or whether it was for some other unseen reason. Either way, his stomach still churned like a barrel of eels. "So, You had a heavy night last night I hear? Who knew that Pepperup could help with hangovers, I'll certainly store that information away for new years eve," He smiled.

Neville nodded again, still not wanting to talk more than he needed to. When he felt up to it, he finally stood and opened his eyes. He looked at his uncle and took the offered mug, with a nod of thanks. "Are you all right?" He asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder as he sipped the steaming mug. Neville sighed and went to answer when his voice broke. It was as though just that single kind gesture knocked all his defences down as he swallowed. He couldn't talk as his breath was stolen from him.

His heart started to thud as if trying to escape out of his chest as he tried to swallow. He reached out for the armchair and fell back into it. The mug in his hand was pulled away as he struggled with his breathing. He pulled at his hair, knotting his fingers into the strands as he faced the floor between his knees. He squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to centre himself. He took several breaths, but they caught in his throat. He felt like he was about to pass out as the world around him seemed to narrow down. Even the darkness behind his eyes seemed to get darker. His heart thundered in his ears as he tried to breathe. Maybe he would die, his heart giving out. A sob fought it's way out between gasps as his misery drowned him. He pinched the tears from his eyes as he started to panic about dying and never seeing Pansy again. He felt hands on his shoulders as a voice tried to break through the darkness. He couldn't seem to get enough air as his heart stuttered.

"Nev, my lad," He blinked open and found his uncle crouched before him. He closed his eyes again. "You're alright, you're alright," his uncle whispered as he squeezed his shoulders. Neville hiccupped as another sob caught on the way down. He wasn't alright, he was about to die. His heart was about to give out. How could his uncle know that he was okay? Any minute now, his heart was going to break.

Neville felt the sweat run down his back as another sob forced it's way out. His breath came out in a rush and caught as a breath tried to rush back in almost immediately. He coughed as his heart palpitated inside his ribs.

"Shush, That's it, lad. Let it all out," His uncle soothed as Neville tried to forget his exploding heart and aching pain within it as the tears drenched his face. He was never going to see her again. His world was crashing around him, and there seemed to be nothing that could anchor him.

After what felt like an eternity, the sobs seemed to subside. "That's it, It'll be alright," With each intake of breath, his racing heartbeat slowed, and he was able to breathe deeper. He released his fingers from his head and stretched them out, the numbness receding with each bend of his fingers.

"There, you back in the room?" His uncle asked with a weak smile. He nodded as Algie handed him his handkerchief.

"Thanks," He muttered as he wiped at his eyes.

"So, do you want to talk about it now you've got that out your system?" Algie asked as he perched on the side of the Alocasia pot.

Neville took a deep breath as he nodded, plunging into the story of the night before, leaving out no detail as he poured his heart out, his eyes still weeping at the rawness of it all.