"Gran's leaving. I have two choices. Stay and take care of my ancestral home or continue traveling like I've been. I can't afford both... and it doesn't really feel like a choice." - Neville to Susie and Hannah after a proper cry.

He had a feeling it would be Hannah, but Neville wasn't prepared to see her passed out in his Gran's old bed. It wasn't actually Gran's bed, new frame and all. He bought a new mattress and fresh sheets to go with it. But it had been her room for his whole life. And Hannah…

Hannah was the same as always. Except for the smell of wine practically radiating from her person. She was always a terrible sleeper when drunk and after only a few steps into the room she blinked her eyes open at him.

"Nev, I don't feel so hot," she mumbled.

"Exactly how much did you drink, Banana?"

A sickly groan. "All of it."

He sat on the edge and placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing gently. "Sweetheart…"

"Stop," she hiccuped. "I can't be touched by you, Nevvy."

"You're sick, let me try to make you feel better..." he begged, feeling queasy himself. Because on one hand, she was definitely in the right. Why did he want to touch her? They were broken up. But on the other hand, "I wanna be friends, Banana. Friends touch."

"Friends..." another hiccup. "I just came to make friendly conversation like Susie said but I saw Pansy and started crying."

"And she put you to bed?" Neville asked, thinking that might be the last thing he expected out of Pansy Parkinson. He remembered an unhappy, too thin girl at school. A bully.

"Yeah… I don't feel so hot," she repeated again.

Neville took out his wand and summoned a bucket. "I'm going to leave this by the bed, okay? Stay here tonight and feel better."

"I really did just want to talk, Nevvy."

"I know, we can talk tomorrow, Banana," he promised, continuing to rub her shoulders. He did so until she fell back asleep and then, quietly, he stood and closed the balcony doors, pulling shut the new solid black-out curtains to shut out the sun, enclosing the room in darkness, before he left.

Isn't she a doll?

Neville didn't respond to Gus. He was going nutty having a second voice in his head, one that disagreed with every decision and move he made and called him 'idiot' and 'chump' every other sentence. One who was starting to get antsy to be with his wife. But Neville couldn't just go off and bang Pansy Parkinson to appease the damn ghost in his head.

One, Pansy was being hunted by what Neville saw as a cult. The more he learned about The Brotherhood of the Chosen, the less he liked. They harassed Pansy for years and he was afraid of what she thought about him and Harry for it.

Two, he was still dealing with his break up from Hannah, which clearly wasn't over yet. He wasn't sure he was ready for it to be over, as hypocritical as that was. He wanted her in his life, just… as friends. And that didn't seem to be happening.

It had been him, Hannah, and Susan since 7th year ended. He fit in with the two Hufflepuff BFFs perfectly, at least... that's what he always thought.

Heart in a tizzy, he left Hannah to sleep it off and returned to the kitchen, his dinner, and his strange houseguest. Pansy requested mild, he asked for his as spicy as possible. He added some spring rolls too, because who didn't like spring rolls? Plus he definitely wanted to eat some feelings. But he wondered if their dinner conversation would be awkward or if they could get past this weird situation they managed to land in.

To make the day even weirder, when he entered the kitchen he spotted her at the breakfast nook, not eating the curry in front of her, but holding a soggy bit of green leaf from the dish up to her nose.

Sniffing it and humming in question. She set the leaf down and fished through her curry with a spoon, finding another piece. She sniffed that one too. Eyes slightly closed, a look of concentration making her face seem shorter.

"Hey," he started, waiting by the door.

"Everything okay with Hannah?" she asked kindly, not pausing her strange behavior.

"She's a crier when she drinks, but I think she's okay. Thank you for helping her," and that reminded him he didn't really know this witch anymore.

But everyone changed a bit when they grew up, didn't they? It seemed Pansy became an oddball after school. Maybe from years of self-imposed solidarity. She continued to smell the leaves for another minute before she turned her head and looked at him, her silver eyes shining. "Did you want to eat together?"

"Uh, sure," he shook his head to get his mind straight and joined her at the nook with a few napkins. "Oh, you were waiting for me?"

"I usually cook dinner for my guards," she said, finally taking a bite. "We eat together."

The movement of her mouth fascinated him. He never watched someone savor a bite of food before. But Pansy did, her plump lips moving over each other as she focused on tasting the food. "Good?" he asked, silently reminding himself to eat his own food and stop looking at Pansy's lips.

The fascination wasn't his own. It was Gus. The ghost knew that within Pansy was the spirit of his wife, whom he loved dearly. Seriously. Neville could feel it.

"I do like it," she assured him. "Maybe I should have tried it a bit spicier?"

You like her.

He ignored Gus, glad to see he was much better at resisting him after a long sleep, even when that sleep was him knocked out unconscious, and they ate in silence for several minutes. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't horrible either. He wanted to ask more about The Brotherhood, but he sensed the smallest trace of fear in her movements. As if she were trying to conquer it in silence. She probably wanted to talk about Hannah but knew it would be awkward.

He settled on food.

"What do you like to cook?"

She shrugged and remained silent, focusing solely on her meal. The silence edging closer and closer to uncomfortable. He had just about given up when she looked up and said, "I like to try different recipes. Gerry loves meat and potatoes but Matt is vegetarian. Wayne will eat anything as long as it's spicy."

Those damn guards. "And what do you like?"

Silver eyes danced as they watched him, interest lighting up the unique shade. It wasn't the usual silver that often ran in magical families. It looked very much like two full moons shining bright. "My guards suffer through my obsession to make the perfect saffron sauce," she smiled. "A different recipe each week."

"I don't think I've even tried it before," he told her honestly.

Idiot. Who taught you to flirt with women?

"I'm not trying to," he added under his breath.

She's setting you up and you're missing it completely. I don't believe in women doing all the work, chump.

Pansy's eyes gleamed with laughter, catching on easily. The one person who could understand his odd behavior lately. "Stella says you should relax."

"Gus says I'm an idiot."

"Stella says no, you just need a pinch of seasonin'..." her accent not getting better. "Whatever that's supposed to mean."

My beloved sees the good in everyone. Don't take it to heart.

"I feel like we shouldn't be indulging them," Neville looked down at his dinner and took a big bite.

Pansy finally burst into laughter. Big, resonant laughter that carried through the entire room. It was then he remembered she was loud in school too. It shocked him how someone so small could make so much noise.

"Sorry," she said between laughs. "Stella said-" she took a deep breath, fanning her face. "Stel said she would love to be indulged by you."

What!-"What?"

"She's just trying to get a rise out of me, I think," Pansy drank deeply from her water glass. "That's how she broke through before. When we were all out in the garden. I was so surprised to see your bracelet matched mine, she took immediate control. And at my home last night she said something that shocked me."

That's my girl.

Neville thought back to the potion supply shop. "I think I was exhausted. He didn't have a reason to take control until he spotted you, and then I hadn't slept in a week."

Because of the dreams. Their dreams.

Pansy's cheeks heated up as she looked away, clearly remembering. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for me to be here," she said softly, setting aside her utensils, the laughter fading away.

He disagreed, but understood where her trepidation came from. "It is good for you to be here. We can figure this all out and keep you safe at the same time. I don't want anymore unwanted gifts left at your home."

It seemed too quiet now that she wasn't laughing. "Do you really care if I'm safe or not?"

"You and I are possessed by two ghosts who love each other," he answered softly. "But those dreams aren't Gus and Stella."

She shook her head, dark bangs waving across her forehead, the same piqued look coming over her face from earlier. He upset her again, but she didn't direct that anger at him like a normal person. Her mistrust too great.

Instead she said, "So, we shared a few intimate dreams. Maybe you think dream will become reality."

"What… no," he argued. "No. I think you're in my life now, whether or not I wanted it or expected it, doesn't change the fact. And Hannah and I have only been broken up for a few weeks. I can't even think of being with someone else right now."

"Really? Because I got the impression you were the one who broke up with her?"

"So what?" he snapped. "I'm not the kind of guy who can jump in and out of relationships. I didn't break up with her to be with someone else—or because we became bracelet buddies."

"Why then? She's beautiful and it seems she's very much in love with you."

Damn. He took a deep breath. This question came up over and over again from his friends and family and he hadn't been able to give them a sufficient answer. Now Pansy asked him, and he felt like he had to explain himself otherwise she would never trust him.

And he needed that trust if they were going to solve this horny ghost problem.

"I don't love her," he admitted, feeling vulnerable under Pansy's scrutinizing glare. "Maybe… No, no maybe about it. I never did. It dawned on me a few months ago that all we had was sex. Good sex," he laughed sadly. "Really good. But that's it. And sex isn't… love. I don't know, but it felt wrong to continue a relationship when I knew I didn't feel the same as she felt for me. And she doesn't know about this," he added, gesturing to the bracelet. "I haven't told her yet, I don't know how… honestly."

Pansy considered him for a long time. It was unnerving, the way she stared at him. Not blinking. Not moving. Just thinking. A genuine stare off. He thought if he moved or blinked it would be disastrous.

Finally, after what felt like a million years, she said, "I won't say anything, unless she asks."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, he sat back, the tension leaving his shoulders. "That's fair."

"Dinner was good," she added. And he recognized the olive branch for what it was.

"Thanks for treating."

"Do you have a couch or something I could sleep on?"

Oh, yeah. He went from being totally alone to having two women in his home. Maybe if his Gran hadn't taken every piece of furniture in the house with her when she moved in with Erasmus. There used to be 5 guest rooms in this huge house, for family and friends. Now he had empty rooms, a lot of dust, and an insane amount of mallards. Not to forget that dumb partially broken potion vial collection. "Come with me."

He led her up to his room, which he thoroughly took a wand to earlier that day, and to the only other bed in the whole damn house. He would just have to suck it up and go sleep with Hannah. In his Gran's old room.

Yikes.

"You can sleep here tonight. I'll make sure Hannah gets home by tomorrow, I'm sorry for… everything."

She paused at the doorway, looking around at his childhood room. It was the only fully furnished room in the entire house, which is what gave her pause. But he'd seen her room earlier, so it seemed fair that she got to see his. Though hers had seemed like a serene, uncluttered luxury suite compared to his overstuffed, crowded disaster of a bedroom .

"This is your room?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'll go sleep with Hannah."

"Your ex?" she shook her head. "That's ridiculous. This whole situation is ridiculous. I'll just go home."

"No, you can't," he argued. "Not until The Brotherhood is dealt with."

"I'm not going to make you sleep in the same bed as your ex, who is passed out drunk and has no say in this conversation."

"Have the wards been replaced at your house yet? Because if not, then I'm not letting you go back," he told her firmly.

"Excuse me? You won't 'let' me?"

This was getting beyond frustrating. He grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her down on the edge of his bed. Her eyes went round like an owl's. He knew she wasn't used to being touched. But Oh Fucking Well. "Look, maybe since you didn't hire me you don't feel you can trust me. Yeah? So we have to do this the old fashioned way."

He held out his hand for a shake. "I'm Neville. My favorite color is blue. My Patronus is a spectacled bear and I love chocolate and coffee. Let's be something we weren't during school. Friends."

Again he surprised her, he could tell. But beneath all that fear and the strangeness of their situation there was a well of stubbornness that had her lifting her hand to shake his. "Pansy," she said, a bit sassy but by the time she finished speaking, she sounded genuine. "I can't produce a Patronus. I love homemade jam and painting and my favorite color is green. Let's be friends."

Not bad, chump. Not bad.

"Bathroom is across the way, help yourself to anything, and get some rest."