"Mattie is my best friend, do we hate each other with a burning passion? Absolutely. I would still die for her. Except, I've hired her to make sure I don't die so would she die to save me from dying for her? Yes, and she would definitely yell at me while doing it." - Pansy to Draco Malfoy over a cup of spiked eggnog.

Harry made it a priority to link Neville and Pansy's Floo and question the intruder while Hermione went to research on spirit possession through inanimate objects. Draco promised he would find someone suitable to redo the wards on her home. Neville left to ready Longbottom Keep and Wayne went home to his family with all of her remaining jam stash.

Mattie stood next to her as she packed a suitcase, standing at the foot of her bed. The sunlight filtered in through the massive stained glass behind the bed. She did it years ago, when she first moved in, but the design was so beautiful it still caught her breath on occasion.

"I have major doubts about this, Matt," Pansy shook her head, gently folding her clothes before putting them into her case.

"It's a sound plan, except for not taking one of us with you," she practically growled. "When was the last time you were alone?"

"Truly alone," Pansy breathed out the words, trying to imagine… "The bird feather. I hired Gerry the next day. I was 18."

The letter that attended the cursed feather had put the sour taste of fear into her mouth, a taste she never lost. One touch of that feather had started to turn her hand into stone. Good luck that Theodore Nott had been visiting her at the time she decided to open her mail. The wizard had just started studying to be a Curse Breaker and stopped the progression long enough for her to get real help. Quick enough even she couldn't tell that the tips of her fingers had turned completely to stone at one point.

"Years, then, since the last time you were alone."

"But I won't be alone, Neville will be there."

"Oh, Neville," Mattie mocked. "You know I looked him up? Doesn't have a job. Living in his family home. Apparently went 'traveling' to clear his head the year after the war. There's also that whole bit where he's possessed by a malevolent spirit."

"Not malevolent," Pansy said at the same time Stella did. Her words blended with Stella's a little too flawlessly.

You tell 'em, hon. I'm not malevolent, just naughty. Meeeow.

"I thought you said the plan was sound," Pansy complained. "You're supposed to assure me, not give me more doubts."

"No. What I'm supposed to do is protect you, something I can't do if we're split up."

Mattie unwrapped two pieces of gum and popped them in her mouth but Pansy dropped the unmatching socks she held and in a move completely uncharacteristic of her personality, she hugged Matt. Hard.

"Ugh, get away from me," Mattie pushed at her, but if she really didn't want Pansy hugging her, she would have done something more substantial about it than wiggle uncomfortably.

"No, I read somewhere you're supposed to say 'I love you' to your friends more often than our generation does," Pansy tightened her hug. "I love you."

"You don't have friends. We aren't friends. You hired me," Mattie finally pushed her away. "Pack your damn bags, you lunatic. Here."

She dug out a small piece of metal, silver, beaten into a rough round shape. In the center was a small red stained piece of glass. It filled her with delight. "Mattie! Did you make this?"

"Lord no," Mattie's face scrunched up into disgust. "Look, I have the matching piece."

A second piece in the same shape came from her opposite pocket, the glass the same deep shade of red. "Brush your finger here," Mattie directed, rubbing the pad of her forefinger against the glass.

Both sets turned to a potent, deep orange.

Pansy tried it for herself, completely mesmerized. Running her finger over the glass. It felt like wet paint but her finger came away clean. The glass turned into a brilliant yellow. "It's stunning, Mattie."

"It cycles through the rainbow. If you're in trouble, leave it on red. I'll come get you," she took the glass from Pansy's hand and shoved it into Pansy's jean pocket. "And you better not do anything stupid like last night when you suddenly decided to get involved and be the hero, Parkinson."

Pansy couldn't help the smile on her face even though Mattie walked away without another word. The witch wasn't prone to affectionate acts, and neither was she if she were to be honest. But the silver in her hand, the glass center singing to her soul, told Pansy exactly how much Mattie cared.

"Except…" Mattie reappeared in her bedroom door, popping yet another piece of gum. What an addict. "If Longbottom tries anything with you, it's perfectly acceptable to hit him in the head with an iron skillet."

Pansy smiled and turned back to her packing, feeling more hopeful. Barely ten seconds passed before she heard a throat clearing. "She meant for me to hear that, right?"

Thank God almighty!

"Definitely," Pansy nodded in Neville's direction, ignoring the voice in her head. He looked tired, and he should be if he slept on her couch last night. The love seat was far too short and far too formal to be a comfortable sleeping place. But maybe gruff was a good look on him.

However, he wasn't paying attention to her answer, his eyes blinking in awe behind her.

She stepped aside to give him the full view and not because it gave her more time to observe him. From floor to ceiling behind her canopy bed was a stained glass window she designed and painted. She modeled the tree after an old white oak. A thick, richly brown tree trunk with hefty branches that hosted wide, green leaves that fluttered in the wind with a soothing sound.

The only magic she could do.

She just never expected to be sharing it with Neville Longbottom of all people. She didn't know anything about him and yet she was about to move in with him for an undetermined amount of time.

Go on then, honey. Ask. You can't get up the river until you start paddlin'.

…

"I have no idea what that means."

Neville didn't look away from the window but his lips turned up at the edges. "Stella?"

He would understand, she realized, the strangeness of having another personality in her head. It made her feel included, though no weirder a private club existed. She conjured up her best attempt at an American Southern accent. "Ya can't get up the riva un-til ya start a-paddalin'."

Excuse me? What is that accent?

Neville laughed then slapped a hand over his mouth. "Gus says you better not ever insult his wife like that again."

"Whew, yeah, Stel is angry at me for that one. But if you don't like it, maybe you should get out of my head," Pansy added stubbornly.

Oh no problem, babydoll. Just give me a few hours with my husband.

"Damn horny ghost," she bit down on her lip when their eyes met. And she realized how stunning his eyes were. A golden brown to her soft silver.

He started laughing again, his entire face lighting up. "That's all they want, isn't it? A night in bed. I wonder why?"

That was a good question. "Stel?"

None of your damn business.

"What, are you mad at me?" Pansy wanted to laugh. "You know imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

I don't much care for flattery.

Strange how Pansy could almost see a nose being turned up to the air, a flash of bouncing blonde curls and deep green eyes. But the feeling flitted away as quickly as it came.

"Maybe we could find out on our own," Pansy suggested. He seemed interested and they would be spending more time together most definitely. Maybe a little research could be done.

"We could just…" he paused, cheeks turning pink. He seemed surprised at his own suggestion but then he smiled at her again, obviously deciding to shoot his shot. Bold man.

Too bad her stomach turned sour. "Sorry, Longbottom. I have a little something called self-respect."

Her harsh tone effectively killed their sprightly conversation and turned his flirty blush to a red face of embarrassment. "I didn't mean to—that's not what I…"

"I'm ready," she cut him off because she didn't enjoy the ugly feeling messing up her insides.

"Oh," he shook his head, fumbling over his words, hesitantly reaching out for her bag. "Let me get that for you."

"Don't bother," she pulled her strap over her shoulder and brushed past him and his dumbfounded face.

At her white stone fireplace Mattie stood with the small skillet in her hand, aggressively chewing away at her gum. "Remember what I said."

"Don't ride a hippogriff naked?"

A stern frown.

"A friend who is everyone's friend is no friend at all?"

A bigger frown.

"How about," Pansy said, grabbing Floo powder from the ceramic jar Mattie held out for her. "The young witch knows the rules but the old witch knows the exceptions?"

"Have fun playing house with the vagabond, I hope you don't get kidnapped," Mattie sneered, pushing her into fire. As she did, she secured the skillet to the front pocket with a wink.

You know, I quite like this one.

"Me too," Pansy grinned.

Neville followed with a subdued frown, awkwardly avoiding Mattie as he stepped into the fire with Pansy. He sighed quite heavily before calling out, "Longbottom Keep…" in a tone that said he was starting to rethink this whole thing.