Hello my friends, I am finally back with a new chapter!

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And, as always, a massive thank you to my cosmic soulmate, Lady Ylla!


Mending

Chapter 5

Neville was sitting up in his bed reading The Daily Prophet, the remains of his breakfast on a tray across his lap, when Pansy entered his room the next morning.

"So," Neville said, turning a page of the paper without looking up. "She returns,"

"Against my better judgement," he heard her mumble as she picked up his chart.

"Where did you go yesterday?" He asked folding the paper back up. "I thought we were supposed to do therapy everyday?"

"Rest is just as important as anything else you will do in the therapy room," she answered, sounding as if she were reading from a manual.

"Still doesn't explain where you went," Neville muttered, picking up his teacup and draining the last of his morning tea.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Longbottom," she said defiantly.

"Back to 'Longbottom', are we?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "You called me 'Neville' yesterday,"

"So?" She shot at him, not taking her eyes from his chart.

Neville sat down his teacup and actually looked at her. Her eyes looked a bit red and puffy, as if she had spent most of the night crying.

"Hey," he said in a soft voice, causing her to look up. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she said, finality in her tone.

"You don't look fine," Neville pushed.

"Please, just drop it," Pansy asked softly, still not meeting his eyes.

Neville pursed his lips, but didn't say anything. Pansy vanished the remains of his breakfast and summoned the wheelchair over to the side of the bed. She kept her eyes averted from his while helping him into the chair, and he could sense her tension as she marched them down the hall to the therapy room.

Once the door was shut behind them, Neville wheeled himself over to the straight backed wooden chair while Pansy looked over his chart again.

"Think you can manage to get yourself into the chair today?" She asked, her voice laced with a frostiness Neville hadn't heard from her since their school days.

"I think so," he replied, wondering what on earth he had done to make her so angry.

Pansy focused on his chart and didn't turn towards him until he had hoisted himself from the wheelchair to the wooden chair. Without speaking a word, she sat on the low stool in front of him and began his exercises.

The physical therapy session felt tense. Pansy wouldn't meet Neville's eyes, and kept all of her questions stiff and professional. She seemed to being making an effort to focus solely on his injury, not allowing her eyes to wander as they had done the day before.

Neville wondered if she was trying to push back the memories as well.

After nearly half an hour of heavy silence that was only interrupted by the odd command to move his leg a bit more, or the obligatory inquiry about his pain levels, Neville could barely stand it anymore.

He was about to suggest they cut the session short today, when Pansy's fingers stilled on the bandage around his thigh. He followed her line of sight and noticed she was focused on yet another scar that decorated his body. This one peeked out of the hem of his rugby shorts, and was quite faint, only visible under the bright lighting of the therapy room.

That scar had been an accident of his own making; a mere scratch from the jagged bars of a cage he had broken into to release a group of first years. The injury had unknowingly been allowed to fester, and infection had set in before Luna could pinch the proper potion from Slughorns private cupboards.

Pansy was staring at the scar with wide eyes, her lips parted slightly. He realized then why she was so angry.

"Are you upset about yesterday?" He asked, watching Pansy's face closely for a reaction.

He wasn't disappointed. Her eyes hardened and her jaw clenched. She stood and half turned from him.

"It's in the past, Pansy," he told her, surprising himself with the softness of his voice and the use of her first name.

"It doesn't always feel like the past, Neville," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Pansy," he whispered, taking her hand where it was held in a fist at her side and smoothing out her fingers.

Pansy stiffened at the contact, but she didn't pull away from him. Neville rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, and took a deep breath.

"Listen, Pansy, I-" Neville began.

A knock on the door sounded like a blast through the silence of the therapy room. Pansy gasped and pulled her hand from Neville's so quickly he almost toppled out of his wheelchair.

"C-come in," Pansy said, clearing her throat and curling her hand into a fist once more.

"Miss Parkinson?" A blonde haired witch in pale blue robes stuck her head inside the door.

"Yes?" Pansy said shortly, her back to the door.

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley wishes to speak to you," the witch said in a small voice.

"About?"

"I do not know, Miss,"

"Please tell her I will be along shortly," Pansy said, smoothing her hair and straightening her robes. "I have a session here to finish first,"

"Yes, Miss," the blonde witch said, shutting the door and plunging them into silence again.

"Pansy-" Neville began, but she cut him off again.

"I'm not discussing this, Neville-Mr. Longbottom," she said, holding a hand up to stop his protests. "Let's finish your session,"

Although some of the tension had followed the blonde witch out of the room after the interruption, Pansy was using her overly professional tone again. But some of the earlier iciness seemed to have melted a bit.

The rest of the session went by quickly, and Neville kept his mouth shut until he was back in his hospital room. Pansy helped steady him as he transferred himself from the wheelchair to the bed, and pulled the sheets up to his waist.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked, tapping his water jug with her wand to refill it.

"No," he said, looking hard at her. "But we will discuss what happened. Not today," he clarified when she opened her mouth to argue. "But soon,"

Pansy's violet eyes were stormy under her furrowed eyebrows as she stared at him. He held her gaze, but said nothing else.

With a huff, Pansy stomped out of the room and down the hall towards Hermione's office.


"You wanted to see me?" Pansy asked, stepping into Hermione's office.

"Yes," said Hermione, snapping the clasp on her bag closed. "Do you have plans this evening?"

"Not really..." Pansy said slowly, thinking of the leftover takeaway and the novel she had slowly been reading her way through back at her apartment.

"Would you like to join Ron and I for dinner tonight?" Hermione asked.

"Um...what?" Pansy asked, startled by the sudden invite.

"Dinner," Hermione repeated. "I would really like you to join us. The children will be there too, so you don't have to feel like you're intruding on a date or anything,"

"Well, I suppose I don't really have much else going on..." Pansy said. "Where should I meet you?"

"Just come to mine," Hermione handed her a slip of parchment with an address scribbled on it. "We can floo from there, say...5:30?"

"Okay," Pansy said, reading the address. "I guess I'll see you then?"

"See you then,"

Pansy turned and left Hermione's office, missing the satisfied smile on the other witch's face


I know this is a short chapter, but I promise that chapter six is going to more than make up for it! Chapter six is almost finished, and I will be posting it much quicker than I posted this one!

i can be found on tumblr as kendrasowlpost!