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Part One | Strike the Match

Fourteen. Something to Fight For

If anyone had informed Pansy Parkinson, prior to the beginning of this week, that she'd be stressing about what to do with her hair, to go study with Neville Longbottom of all people, she would have thought them delirious. Yet, that was exactly the predicament Pansy found herself facing that particular weekend. She had gotten as far as glamouring her slightly faded, and therefore even more hideous, green locks black again. "Oh for fuck's sake!" she cried out, not for the first time that morning, when her third attempted hairstyle fell flat back against her head.

I'm just fucking destined for boring, straight, lifeless hair forever

"What's wrong with you?" a croaky drawl asked from behind her door.

"My. Fucking. Hair. Is. A. Piece. Of. Shit," Pansy snapped over her shoulder as Draco's own untidy mop appeared around the door, sipping a mug of tea.

"It looks the same as it always does."

"Yes, Draco," Pansy replied in an impatient hiss, "that's the problem."

"Right, do you want a cup of tea? Winky just made-"

"No, Draco I do not want tea. Unless it's magic fucking tea that can make my hair do anything other than this." At the last word Pansy grabbed handfuls of her black locks at either side, holding them in place for a few seconds before letting them drop, ungracefully, back to their original position.

"Honestly Pans," Draco began, through sporadic sips of his tea, "I doubt Longbottom will care too much." He smirked and cockily raised his eyebrows.

"That is not-"

"Don't even try, Parkinson."

Pansy narrowed her eyes but conceded to his order. Fucking know-it-all.

"I'm serious Pans, you can see it a fucking mile off. For some batshit crazy reason he thinks the fucking sun shines out of your unmentionables"

"Unmentionables?" Pansy queried with a smirk, Draco was never one to mince his words, especially when it came to Pansy's…unmentionables.

"Would you prefer I said cunt?"

"Fair point," Pansy answered with an amused outtake of breath. "Draco?"

"Hmm?" Draco finished his tea, placing the cup on Pansy's bedside table and sitting on her bed.

Pansy swallowed, choosing her words carefully. Draco may annoy and tease her, but his opinion mattered greatly to Pansy. He was a logical being, rarely driven by emotion over action, and as he always had been, remained her greatest ally. "Do you think it's wrong? The idea of me and Longbottom?"

"Yes," Draco answered bluntly. "But not for the reason you do, it's fucking mental. I'd have got fantastic odds had I ever chose to bet on your next suitor, but the world has gone to shit Pans, grab some fucking happiness while you still can." His words stunned her into silence. Not only because they were so un-Draco, but they somehow actually made sense. "Just don't get stupid," Draco continued. "Don't give anyone any reason to suspect you have anything other than having a loyalty to the Dark Lord." Nodding, Pansy looked downwards, unseeing. Could she really have happiness? The concept seemed almost abstract now. She was still contemplating the risks when, at her silence, Draco spoke once more, "It's no use just having something to fight against, you need something to fight for."

"When did you get so wise, Draco Malfoy?"

"I had a lot of time to think this summer," he replied, as his eyes met Pansy's and she nodded again.

"Thanks, Draco."

"Plus," Draco's signature smirk was planted firmly back on his pale face. "at least one of us should get laid."

Pansy picked up her hairbrush from the dressing table she was sitting in front of, launched it across the room, narrowly missing Draco's head.

"Hey now!"

They laughed together briefly before Pansy paused, considering him. "What are you fighting for?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Draco paused also, she didn't miss his face wincing slightly at her words.

"My mother," Draco answered quietly before Pansy stood from her stool, crossed the bedroom and plopped herself down next to the wizard. The pair simultaneously threw their arms around each other.

Draco stroked the back of Pansy's head, his other arm pressing them together as she heard him whisper softly in her ear, "Go be happy."

The library was fairly deserted when Pansy entered. Straightened her shoulders, she began to make her way through bookcase after bookcase, until she reached the Herbology section. She stopped when she saw him, sitting alone at a wooden bench and scrutinising the contents page of a large textbook. His hand propped up his head, by the looks of him he'd roughly pushed it through his short, dark hair and his brow was furrowed whilst his other hand was roaming over the page of the textbook.

Pansy cleared her throat, amused to see that the noise made Neville flinch in surprise.

"Hi," she said, moving towards the opposite bench from the one Neville was currently occupying.

"Hey! You scared me," He smiled warmly as he spoke, his eyes resting on her face longer than necessary as she took her seat.

"Found our plant, yet?"

"Nope. I'm starting to think it just doesn't exist," Neville responded, as Pansy emitted a small laugh. He looked back down at the text. "Oh, wait, here's something about oddly coloured leaves, hang on." He found the corner of the correct page and pulled the rest of the pages forward, revealing several pictures of large, spotted, but still primarily green, leaves. "Well," Neville began, his expression almost one of amusement, "these are definitely not blue."

"Definitely not blue," Pansy repeated Neville's words to him.

An hour later, Pansy and Neville vacated the library, having exhausted all the books that looked as though they may be helpful. Neville had presented the idea to go and examine their plant once more in person, and Pansy was grateful to have the opportunity to leave the stuffy library if nothing else, but certainly not because I want to walk next to him.

It was common knowledge that the seventh years had been paired up randomly in several subjects and no one paid the two much attention; their assigned work was the perfect opportunity to walk together in a normal fashion, if such a thing existed.

Their conversation had varied greatly. It was solely related to their mystery plant for the first ten minutes after Pansy's arrival, until Neville had decided to ask how Draco's head was feeling that morning. Pansy raised her eyebrows, momentarily forgetting that only she was accustomed to Draco's excessive drinking habits. The volume of whisky the Head Boy was beginning to consume on a nightly basis, Pansy remembered at Neville's words, was far from normal and would have granted most people a vicious hangover the morning after, if not a trip to the hospital wing.

"He's growing used to it," she answered honestly.

Neville had said nothing, but she saw his brow scrunch up slightly at her answer. "I can't even believe I'm asking this," Neville began, "but, is he, you know, alright? Drinking that much on a regular basis is probably not a great sign. It's none of my business, of course, feel free to tell me to shut up."

"No it...it's okay," Pansy replied, not entirely sure what to say. Was it a betrayal of her to speak of Draco's private actions behind his back? "No, I don't really think he is alright, to be honest," she answered, sadly. It was no secret, to her alone anyway, that last year, closely followed by the summer, had had a definite effect on Draco.

Neville nodded but did not pry further about Draco. He looked into Pansy's face and she looked down at the table, examining the Gryffindor's clasped hands, saying nothing. "So, uh, are you enjoying Seventh Year?" Neville asked, finally breaking the silence that had ensued post-Draco discussion.

Pansy snorted, rounding her head to face him once more. "Are you?"

"Oh, well I'm being Crucio'd on the regular and taught that the majority of my friends are scum, and then I got pissed with Draco Malfoy so, I'm fairly certain this year is actually taking place in an alternate universe."

Pansy let out a bark of laughter at his words. "I think you might be right."

Their conversation had relaxed somewhat and a comfortable flow weaved into their words, which primarily involved discussing the absurd new Hogwarts.

Frowning as they approached the Greenhouses, Pansy ventured,"I'm fairly certain Sprout doesn't just allow students to wander into the Greenhouses on weekends."

"She wouldn't let you, no," Neville spoke the words with a grin.

Charming. Pansy raised her eyebrows, humouring him as she allowed him to lead the way across the grounds. It was a chilly day, but the sky was almost entirely clear of clouds. Pansy squinted in the low-lying sun and breathed deeply as she walked. She noticed Neville take several sideways glances in her direction, his mouth still twisted into a mischievous-looking smile.

"What?" she demanded.

His simple response entirely unhelpful in answering her question. "Just... you."

"What about me?" Pansy queried, her tone harsher than she meant.

"You're still so full of surprises, and I like that you like autumn days," Neville answered to a stunned Pansy.

How the fuck do you know that? "What makes you think I like autumn days?"

"Because the second you stepped outside you looked towards those," he pointed off to their right, where a small huddle of bare trees were standing. "And you had the faintest smile when you saw them. You had the same faint smile when you zipped your coat up, and then again when you took a deep breath. I mean, it is just a hunch, but I'd say you like autumn days."

Woah, nicely played Longbottom.

"I do," Pansy answered, fairly stunned at his response. "With the exception of those fucking things." Pansy pointed towards the sky over the forest, where a dementor could be seen looming. Pansy shuddered, grateful for the chance to be outside but suddenly hopeful it wouldn't be too long a jaunt.

"They're awful, aren't they?" Neville said in response, following Pansy's gaze to the creature.

Pansy wished she'd never mentioned the dementor, and chose to steer the conversation back to the place it had been after Neville had made his autumn day observation. "You're a bit of a creep Longbottom, do you know that?" she added, with another small smile.

"I'm not usually," Neville confessed. "Do you mind?"

Pansy paused her stride, watching him as Neville followed suit, stopping also. A breeze blew through the grounds, momentarily whipping Pansy's hair wildly around her head, her breath somewhere around her throat as she swallowed, not allowing her eyes to leave his as she answered, "I think, somehow, you know I don't."

She noticed him smiling again as they continued their slow walk towards the greenhouse door.

Pansy and Neville had spent a good twenty minutes in Greenhouse Three; Pansy having been most impressed that Neville possessed a set of keys.

"How the bloody hell?" She had gasped, her first thought being that she should write Neville up a detention for stealing, before remembering who was holding the keys, and found it very hard to believe that Neville had actually become a thief.

He merely shrugged. "Professor Sprout knows I want to take Herbology further after Hogwarts, she said if I ever wish to do some extra studying in here, I could."

"Huh," Pansy replied, her eyebrows raised first in disbelief and then admiration. He's really...trusted.

The potted plants for the seventh year assignment were located in a tray, on a high shelf, within a large cupboard at the far end of the glass room. Neville opted not to levitate the tray magically but lifted it down himself. Which caused the bottom of his grey hooded jumper to lift up for the briefest of moments, in which Pansy was able to get a small view of his stomach.

Damn Longbottom! You've got abs!

The short look at Neville's midriff had produced a number of distinct, physical changes in Pansy's body. Her heartbeat was suddenly beating profusely in her ears, her mouth felt dry, and her breathing was ragged and barely even.

"Everything okay? You look red," Neville asked, which caused the warmth on her cheeks, that Pansy was all too aware of already, to burn hotter, and she assumed, made her face redden further. Bugger.

"Yep, I'm fine. Did you get the plant? Oh yeah," Pansy over-enthusiastically examined the tray Neville had placed at the end of the long, wooden table that ran the centre of the Greenhouse. "there it is!" And now I sound crazy.

Neville picked their plant up by its pot and lifted it from the tray, before once more stretching his tall form to replace the tray on the topmost shelf. Oh, hello Longbottom's abs. It's been a while.

"You ready?" Neville asked, gesturing towards the door, once the tray was back in its original position.

Oh, you have no idea. Pansy let out a small cough, feeling incredibly grateful in that moment that Neville was not an accomplished Legilimens. "Yeah, will it be okay to take it with us?"

"We can replace it afterwards, it won't be a problem."

Excellent, that means I'll see your abs again. Pansy nodded in response as they began to make their way towards the Greenhouse door, surprised when Neville stopped, he was in front of her and therefore leading the pair towards the exit.

"Pansy?"

"Yeah?"

He had turned on the spot to face her. Rarely had they been in this position, and it was only then that Pansy realised just how tall and built Neville now was. She had no idea why he'd stopped them here, but she did know that somehow, his presence made her feel a little bit safer.

"You look... really pretty today. I just...wanted you to know that. I know I can't really say it," he gestured with a nod of his head towards the door, "out there."

Pansy took a second to answer, her thoughts whirled as they stood. "Thank you," she eventually managed to breathe, no louder than a whisper. "I-I'm glad you did tell me."

Neville nodded, looking down at her intently. He didn't speak and neither did she. They were simply there together, and as Pansy looked at his face it felt as though every piece of their lives was stripped away. In Greenhouse Three they were no longer Pansy Parkinson, daughter of a Death Eater, promised servant to Voldemort, and Neville Longbottom, self-proclaimed fighter and advocate for the resistance. There was no Gryffindor, or Slytherin, or even Hogwarts. No rivalry, no fighting, and no war. Just...them.

Pansy held her breath, not knowing if she was brave enough to believe he had taken a tiny step forward, towards her. Neville made a few more small movements until she knew she wasn't imagining him coming closer to her. Her pounding heart was the only sound Pansy was aware of. She felt a hand softly land on her right arm, and after daring herself to look up, Neville's face was slowly, but surely, closing in on her own. She instinctively held her breath as she felt herself move just the tiniest bit forward.

She could see each individual one of his facial hairs and feel each of his warm breaths when a sound both disturbing and inescapably loud forced their attentions away from each other. Pansy and Neville both turned to face the door, pulling out their wands in unison as the piercing scream rang out once more.