Neville Longbottom (POV)

How the hell am I supposed to apologise to Pansy if she won't let me talk to her? If she would just listen then she'd know that the woman with brown hair was my sister, Rachel. She'd just been attacked by some bastard in the street and had only just managed to get away before anything dangerous had happened. I saw her in the streets, stumbling along the pavement, but not really taking notice of her surroundings, so I took her back home so I could help her and ask if she'd seen her attacker. That's when Pansy had knocked on the door.

I wasn't really in the best of moods to talk to her; I regret trying to hide Rachel from her, but if Pansy had let me explain everything ...

Oh who am I kidding? I want Pansy back. I miss her and I wish none of this had ever happened. Just as I have something good in my life, it disappears and I get left miserable and alone again.

It's not as if I haven't tried to talk to Pansy; I have, she just doesn't want to hear it. She basically told me to get out of her sight the other day and I couldn't help but do as she said. I think I love her. No, really, I think I am seriously in love with Pansy. Otherwise why would I be so depressed if I wasn't? Her smile, her hair, her sense of humour ... god, I love everything about her. I don't want to lose her.

So, it was about three days after Pansy had told me to get lost, and all I'd done was mope around the house, in depression and occasionally looked after Saffron. My grandmother had taken care of her for a while but now she says I have to take responsibility and look after my own daughter.

Every time the doorbell rings, I jump up, thinking it might be Pansy, but then I answer the door and it's never her. I've given up hope of it ever being her.

Today was no exception; three people had rung the doorbell and not one of them was Pansy. I was so disappointed that on the fourth ring, I nearly didn't get up at all. And it was raining. I hate rain.

But some part of me must be psychic, because, when I opened the door, Pansy stood on the doorstep, in the pouring rain, a genuinely apologetic expression on her face.

I stood there, gaping, watching a drop of water run down her forehead and fall off the end of her nose. She shivered but I wasn't ready to wrap my arms around her and kiss her to within an inch of her life. Not yet, but I was close.

"I don't think I'm being reasonable" she said, over the heavy drumming of the rain on the pavement. "I never gave you a chance to explain. I'm sorry"

Still I said nothing and she looked anxiously at me.

"So, go ahead. Explain. Please" she said after a moments pause.

I told her what had happened; that the woman was my sister, that she'd just been attacked, that the past few days had been hell without Pansy. I didn't tell her that I loved her; it might've scared her away.

"Oh Neville" she breathed, looking truly sorry, "I am such an idiot. I can't believe I thought ... well the worst and there was a totally reasonable explanation for it. I should've listened to you ... but why did you hesitate when I asked you if you were making out with her?" she asked, suddenly suspicious. But I had a reasonable explanation for that too.

"I didn't know how to tell you without it sounding like a lie." I admitted. "I was trying to get the story straight in my head before I started to tell you."

The noise of the rain grew louder as we lapsed into silence. I looked at her steadily, and she didn't look away.

I decided that there was no point in making this whole argument longer than it needed to be. So I figured I may as well forgive her; it sounded like she'd forgiven me too.

Almost without knowing it, I moved forward, into the rain, towards Pansy and looked down at her, smiling.

Her blonde hair was plastered to her head, her cloak dripping wet and her eyelashes had tiny beads of water clinging to them. She was ... just perfect.

When I kissed her, she tasted of rain and she seemed just as eager as I was to make up. I haven't felt that passionate in a while.

She pulled away a few moments later; looking up at me, with such a horribly distressing expression, that it broke my heart just looking at it.

"I am really sorry" she said quietly, resting her head on my shoulder. "I just saw her and assumed you were kissing her. God, I am such an idiot" she added.

I lifted her head so she'd look at me; she was on the verge of tears.

"Don't say that" I whispered, brushing away an escaped tear, "it doesn't matter what happened. It's over now"

She shivered and I figured it was time to stop standing outside in the rain. Still with my arm around Pansy, we went back into my house. As soon as we reached the living room, I turned around and kissed her again. I feel like I'll never get enough of her, and all this time seems like it's been wasted on fighting.

So now we are – at the risk of sounding terribly clichéd – together. I don't think I've been this happy in a while, and it amazes me that Pansy of all people could make me feel like this. I mean, sixteen years ago, if someone had told me I'd end up with Pansy, I'd have laughed. It's just so unbelievable, not that I'm complaining, but she's changed so much. So have I, come to think of it. I must seem incredibly different than when we were at school. Funny, the way life can surprise you.

And I don't hate rain anymore; I quite like it now, although that has more to do with Pansy than anything else.