School and Theme: Hogwarts - Write about the lengths someone goes to in order to preserve their reputation.

Mandatory Prompt: [Occupation] Gymnast

Additional Prompt(s): [Action] Skinny dipping

Year: 2

Word count: 2988

Additional Information: This is written by someone who has no idea about men's gymnastics. I fell in love with the sport in the 2021 Olympics but I still lack any real info other than "Oh wow, they are defying gravity". So, this is a bit of an AU, considering everything.


Boy oh boy did this get out of hand. I don't know what came over me while writing but this is quite outside my comfort zone (you'll see why, I'm not spoiling anything). I just have no words, other than a huge thank you to my Hogwarts team for encouraging me with their supportive comments. That's all for now, hope you enjoy!

The biggest hug for my incredible betas, adenei6, Smjl, accio-broom, be11atrixthestrange and cheesyficwriter, who deserve the world for putting up with me.


"What are you doing here?"

Neville gawked at the girl in front of him, a fierce blush burning on his cheeks. This was the last place he expected to meet a familiar face; let alone this one.

He had always been the odd one out in his life. It wasn't until fourth year that he found a silver lining in his cloudy existence. Hermione had invited him for a day out in Muggle London to go to the Royal Botanical Gardens and they'd ended up at a local gymnastics competition. It was love at first sight for the fourteen-year-old boy. Neville had never seen anything like it. Wizarding society was very modest and strict – nothing like this would ever be accepted back home.

Boys were flying through the air; jumping and twisting and twirling in gravity-defying stunts. For the first time in his life, Neville understood what others meant when they described something as 'magical'. There was no other way to describe the spectacle before him; it was pure magic and nothing else.

Through gymnastics, he grew into his skin. Everything he ever wanted, he finally got. And now it would be all taken away. Because Pansy Parkinson had just watched his latest routine.

The pride Neville felt just moments ago was now turning into bile in his throat as the Slytherin Princess stared him down with a cryptic smile. He had no idea she was in attendance until she showed up in the locker room and caught him with his figurative pants down.

"I didn't know you were a dancer, Longbottom."

The staredown was broken when Pansy spoke, leaning against his locker and crossing her arms across her chest. The world hadn't been kind to her, either. In reverse fashion, Parkinson went from the girl who had everything to the laughing stock of wizarding society. She may not have been branded by ink but her affiliations were a label of their own.

Which was why he didn't question her presence in a Muggle establishment; the Muggle world was a safe place for those Wizarding Britain had shut out. However, daring to venture outside of her comfort zone was not quite indicative of her views on this world. For all he knew, she was the same Pure-blood, prejudiced Parkinson.

"It's gymnastics, not dance," he huffed in response and continued packing his bag, wanting to make his escape as soon as possible. Life as he knew it was over and he was ready to go home.

"I don't know, you seemed pretty dancy to me." Pansy shrugged, her predatory grin never leaving her face. She could read his embarrassment clear as day and was probably already envisioning his imminent fall from grace.

"I don't owe you an explanation, Parkinson." No matter how hard he tried to hide it, the defeat coloured his voice in vibrant notes. One smirk from her was all it took and he was back to being scared little baby-faced Nev.

"Not to me, you don't. Your friends will probably be quite curious, though." Rub it in, Parkinson, gloat away. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" His head snapped up, eyes widening in hope. Neville hated how open his face was; he didn't want to give Parkinson the satisfaction of knowing she had his attention.

"Tit for tat, Longbottom." She pushed herself off the locker and started towards the door, pausing to look back at him over her shoulder. "My offer stands until we get to Hogwarts. You can find me on the train if you want."


Neville's palms were sweating and he wiped them on his jeans again. The Hogwarts Express was nearly at Hogsmeade and his time had run out. He had spent the remainder of his winter break debating his options, but at the end of the day, he knew he was going to accept. He couldn't go back to being the butt of the joke.

He'd been standing outside Pansy's compartment, trying to psych himself up enough to enter. He could hear voices coming from inside; he knew she wasn't alone. How could he talk about this in front of Malfoy? Did he know already? This could go either way: Pansy could have told him since he was her closest friend but Neville could also see her wanting to keep all the cards close to her chest.

The choice was taken out of his hands when the door slammed open, Pansy nearly crashing into him. She yelped in surprise and stumbled back, Neville instinctively reaching out and grabbing her upper arms to steady her. Malfoy watched the interaction over Pansy's shoulder with a raised eyebrow and the Gryffindor blushed, letting the girl go as if she'd burned his hands.

"Uh, Parkinson, hi," Neville stumbled over his words before he cleared his throat, gathering his courage. "Can we talk?"

The shock was quickly gone from her face, replaced with a mischievous smirk. Satisfaction twinkled in her eyes as she tugged him towards the nearby bathroom, locking the door and casting a silencing spell behind them. Neville registered their forced proximity a second too late but he kept quiet, wanting to get the conversation over with.

"So," Parkinson started, sitting on the toilet and crossing her legs as if she was a queen on her throne. "I take it we have a deal?"

"Does Malfoy know?" Neville blurted out, the fear of his old bully still prevalent even after the war.

He thought he saw Pansy's smile soften, but it was gone before he could be sure. "He doesn't. It would be pointless to blackmail you if I told one of the biggest gossips at school you are a gymnast, don't you think?"

Neville nodded, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Somehow Parkinson managed to disarm him with a look and a couple of words, making him feel like that frightened eleven-year-old again. "Uh, good. Thank you."

"My request is simple. Throughout the remainder of the year, I will ask for some favors. Help me out and your secret is safe. I promise to never mention it after we graduate. You should know what a Pure-blood's word means."

"What favors?" He knew he didn't have the luxury of inquisition but Neville couldn't help himself. He knew he'd agree no matter what but he naively hoped Pansy's request would be harmless. Maybe do her homework or help her pull a prank — but the lack of specification had him worried.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," Pansy replied with an innocent tone, though her eyes betrayed her true mischief.

She did not give him time to respond before she hopped back up on her feet. She patted him on the cheek, a gesture that made him oddly flustered, before she waved her wand to undo the spells and opened the door. "I'll be seeing you soon, Longbottom."

It was the second time she left him behind speechless but it wouldn't be the last.


To say Neville was confused would be the understatement of the century. His last year at Hogwarts was almost through, his NEWTs were approaching and he couldn't focus on anything but the raven-haired Slytherin.

Pansy had been an enigma to say the least. When they first agreed on her deal, he'd imagined she would ask him for things like 'Show up for breakfast in your underwear' or 'Throw cat treats at McGonagall during class' — something that would humiliate him and cause laughter at his expense.

Instead, she would have the weirdest requests: she'd ask him to study together in the Library for hours or partner on projects with her. There were times she even demanded to join him in the Room of Requirement while he practiced new routines. The worst she'd asked was for him to sit next to her during meals last week, marking the first time they were together in public.

But he'd come to find he didn't mind. At first, her presence in his life had been a burden, but he'd reluctantly admitted he enjoyed her company. He'd first whispered it out loud to himself in the confines of his dorm room, one night about two months into their so-called 'deal'.

He liked Pansy. Well, he liked Pansy as a person; he wasn't yet ready to face the possibility of more complex intentions. Though the way his cheeks burned every time she accidentally touched him was quite telling, he was satisfied being in denial.

It was something he already knew — the introspection wouldn't give him any more insight. However, ever since he'd read the latest note that had been shoved under his door, he was spinning out. Because Parkinson had finally taken it too far.

"Skinny dipping?" Neville muttered to himself, pacing up and down the small space next to his bed as he tugged his fingers through his hair. There was no way she actually meant that, right?

This was probably her plan all along. To make him trust her so she could ridicule him even more in the end. Maybe she would have the whole school watch as he stumbled around the Black Lake butt-naked like a love-sick puppy.

Maybe he should just let her tell everyone. It was obvious he exercised somehow — his lithe, well-muscled physique unachievable by age alone — and his classmates might not care. Maybe it was better for his reputation to be in tatters instead of his heart.

But he couldn't live without knowing. He knew what the odds were; he was aware he was a fool to hope. If he didn't get rejected though, he also knew perfectly well how he'd harbor hope for the what ifs. He'd spent too long pining over Hermione as a misguided kid that confused a friendly gesture as romantic to know he would obsess over Pansy for too long if he didn't get an answer now.

How she could so easily confound him, he would never understand. But Neville had a swimming date to prepare for.


"You showed up."

The surprise in Pansy's tone was poorly disguised, though she tried to sound matter-of-fact. Neville was quite surprised himself; that she was there waiting, that no one had jumped out at him from the bushes, that no magical cameras were flashing in his face.

"We had a deal. You should know what a Pure-blood's word means," Neville parrotted back from their second meeting, the smile lifting the corners of Pansy's mouth indicating she understood his reference.

"But are you sure about this?" he continued, and an odd emotion he couldn't describe clouded her face. "I mean, NEWTs are tomorrow. You've obviously been stressed to madness but we can still go back. I won't tell anyone, obviously."

"I'm not NEWT-crazy," Pansy huffed and Neville would guess she was offended. "I said I wanted to go skinny dipping in the Black Lake and I meant it. Unless you're suddenly too good to be seen with 'Slytherin scum', being a beloved hero and all."

He did not like the bitterness and self-deprecation in her eyes one bit. The Pansy he had come to know was strong, confident, always in charge and sure of herself. This doubt, this uncertainty, was not like her; Pansy looked small in the way she hugged her arms around herself protectively, defeated.

In a sudden bout of courage, he quickly shed his shirt and ran into the Lake, throwing his swimming shorts at the shore once he was submerged from the waist down. "Your turn!" He called out, the challenge clear in his invitation. Pansy shook her head in disbelief before she ran in after him, cannonballing straight into the deepest end of the water.

Neville felt a little bit dumbstruck as he watched her head break through the surface, her wet hair the color of the midnight sky and her fair skin luminescent in the moonlight. It was similar to the feeling he got that day back in fourth year: the true understanding of 'magical'.

The innocent awe quickly turned to lustful bashfulness as Pansy took off her swimsuit and threw it next to his. He hadn't really grasped the reality of the situation until he found himself staring into green eyes glinting with impishness. Once more, it dawned on him how they were playing a very dangerous game of cat and mouse: he was prey and the woman before him was a dangerous predator, toying with her food.

"So I take it the gymnastics are the reason for this whole 'new Neville' thing, huh?" His reverie was broken by the inquisitive Slytherin. "The growth spurt, the musculature. All this just from twirling around on a mat."

"Again, it's not dancing." Neville huffed in exasperation, though the comment had become a friendly jab by now. "But yes, it helped me a lot. Physically and mentally. It was my one solace during the war; it's why I couldn't let you tell anyone."

The lull in conversation made his skin crawl, so Neville picked it back up again when Pansy remained quiet. "I never really fit in anywhere. You may have noticed I wasn't the perfect Pure-blood or a good Gryffindor. I never really knew what to do with myself until gymnastics."

They swam around in silence after that, both of them processing. As the time passed, Neville grew comfortable enough for his mind to go back to wondering. Maybe it was the pleasant summer breeze or the safety of the darkness but he suddenly felt emboldened enough to speak his mind.

"Why did you ask me here?"

"I thought it was obvious." Pansy shrugged, diving back under and emerging a breath closer to him. "Do you truly not know or are you just playing dumb to be coy?"

Gymnastics may be his passion but once upon a time, he'd given a chance at acrobatics. The feeling at the pit of his stomach reminded him of that instance; like a tightrope walker balancing carefully, on the precipice of falling to his demise. Would he really fall though or would there be a safety net to catch him?

It was his turn to swim, closing the distance between them by another couple of inches. "I am not playing coy. I have my suspicions but I've learned not to assume things. Not until I'm sure, at least. I hope you understand."

There was the smirk again, though now it held no malice or rascalious intent. No, the desire in her stare was far more dangerous and enticing. Pansy approached next and Neville could almost feel her breath on his skin, goosebumps climbing all over his arms. "I do understand," she spoke, her tone playful. "You demand proof. So Slytherin of you, I must say. It seems I've been quite the influence."

Neville was hyper aware of his nakedness as he closed the distance fully, their bodies almost touching under the water. He was lucky that it was so late because the water covering them was inky black and it helped him not glance down at her naked form. Not that he could tear his eyes away from hers; they were pulling him in like magnets. "More of an influence than you will ever know."

No more words were needed as Pansy grasped his shoulders to push herself up and press her lips against his. Was he shivering from the cold or shock? His hands instinctively went to her waist, his strength more than enough to hold her up. Pansy chuckled as they broke away, reaching up a hand to swipe the wet fringe away from his face. "Proof enough for you?"

Neville laughed and leaned down to kiss her again before responding, "Subtlety might not be your strong suit but you got your point across." Their nudity was again brought to the forefront of his mind and he swam back, putting some much-needed distance between them. "Maybe we should put some clothes on now? This is, uh, well, it's not very, um, gentlemanly."

Pansy shook her head with a chuckle and wandlessly accio'd their swimsuits. Neville hastily pulled his on before he breathed a sigh of relief at being stowed away once again. When he looked up, he found the Slytherin lazily floating on the surface, arms resting behind her head as she gazed up on the moon.

"So, our deal is officially done." She broke the silence, bringing them back to reality. "You've done your part, and rest assured, your secret is safe with me. We can go back to not knowing each other, if you'd prefer."

"What would you prefer?" His rebuttal was instant, tired of always being the one put on the spot. Neville hoped the guarded girl would finally be upfront and open with him.

"I've laid all my cards on the table." Pansy shrugged, her discomfort obvious in her flippant tone. "I've wanted this since our seventh year but I couldn't just tell you. So I planned; I had no other way of getting close to you. Now the ball is in your court."

The resurfacing of her uncertainty tugged painfully at his heart and Neviile swam over to her, pulling her into a tight hug from behind, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. "I enjoy having you around. I'd like to have you around more, if you're willing."

He smiled into her neck at her small nod, placing another kiss on her pulse point. "I've got another competition a week after NEWTs. Would you like to come? Officially, this time. We can get ice cream after," he suggested, already planning their first date in his mind.

"Can I still ambush you in the locker room if you know I'm there?" Pansy's remark got a chuckle out of him and she turned to wrap her arms around his neck.

"You can ambush me any time you like," Neville relented before he dove in for another kiss. He had never been happier that someone tried to ruin his reputation.