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Part One | Strike the Match
Twenty-One. Fit as a Gnat
In the days following both her kiss with Neville, and her correspondence from Rabastan, Pansy found herself unusually busy. She felt mostly thankful, as it kept her mind occupied away from the lingering pangs of fear, or doubt, that crept into her conscious whenever her mind was less than overloaded.
There were, however, times where she'd find herself rushing down a corridor only to find herself passing him, usually standing looking irritatingly not busy, and, if possible, even more good looking. Now that she knew not only what he looked like, but how he felt, and how he tasted, she'd experience a rush of bitterness towards whatever, or whoever, she was rushing off to, or from, usually on some inane errand from one of the Carrows. The two deputies had taken it upon themselves to begin calling for Pansy and Draco to carry out an array of tasks, usually menial, for apparently no reason at all.
It had been after five days of this constant badgering that the pair had faced, that Draco appeared in their living room one evening, his expression thunderous and explained how, after he had thrown a box of potion phials on the floor in a fit of rage, that he must carry the box down seven floors without magic, Alecto had burst into a fit of laughter, and informed him that she and her brother had decided to see how amenable Draco and Pansy were to a bit of manual Muggle-work.
"Stupid bitch!" Draco had roared, before promptly blasting a hole in one of the living room's powder blue walls. "Her and her fish-faced fuck of a brother need to take a walk off the Astronomy Tower, right now!"
"There was no purpose to all those things they made us do?"
"Of course there wasn't!" Draco seethed. "Unless, of course, you think that making us look like dicks just for their amusement is a great fucking purpose, otherwise, no."
Bastards. "Bastards."
When they hadn't been doing a number of menial and consequently utterly pointless tasks for the Carrows, Pansy and Draco had spent a lot of their free time practising, until they finally managed to perfect their screaming spell. They essentially had to invent the thing themselves, a sort of take on a Caterwauling charm, which had been relatively straightforward, but still tricky to accomplish.
"Now, we just need to make sure we can cast it nonverbally," Pansy said, wiping a bead of sweat from her left eyelid. "I had no idea screaming took so much physical effort."
"It doesn't, but when you're about as fit as a gnat."
"I'm fitter than a gnat!" Pansy snapped, although the second bead of sweat she could feel making its way down the side of her temple seemed to mockingly say otherwise.
Practising the screaming spell, which needed the word delorum said with an upwards right flick of the wand to work, as well as the continued daily Occlumency, which went on sometimes well past midnight, as well as patrols every few nights, left very little room for Pansy to either stress over Rabastan or stress over Neville; though the latter admittedly was a far more enjoyable source of stress.
Luckily, or perhaps even more excruciatingly, Neville had made sure that even in spite of her lack of free moments, he was never far from her thoughts. Although that would most likely have been the case regardless if Pansy was prepared to be brutally honest with herself, which she rarely was. He had began to send her a number of small notes that he managed to slip either into her bag, or on her person - in a number of imaginative ways - without fail most days.
The first had appeared the very next day after the kiss. It was also the same day she had gotten up, had a bit of a breakdown to Winky, and promptly fallen asleep again on the sofa. That afternoon had seen she and Daphne take a short lived trip into Hogsmeade; once a most popular and looked forward to activity from almost all the students, Hogsmeade weekends had become nothing more than another depressing reality of the world they now resided in. The dementors were supposed to steer clear of the village during all daylight hours, but especially during the weekends of the student visits. However, the soul-sucking creatures still hovered high above, their cloaked, silent, silhouettes drifting ominously overhead.
"Oh, I hate those things," Daphne had said, her head snapping downwards as though she could drive the creatures away just by ceasing to look at them. "Can you do a patronus? Blaise and I have been practising."
"No, I've never actually tried," Pansy said, thoughtfully. "Probably worth learning, I suppose," she finished with a sigh, as though working on the screaming spell, on top of Occlumency, wasn't enough.
"Mine doesn't have an animal shape, yet, but I can get a wispy thing. It's tough," Daphne said, linking her left arm around Pansy's right.
The trip hadn't been a particularly long one. Daphne had needed a new quill, and they'd made a quick stop at Honeydukes, stocking up on a number of sweet treats that might make their lives seem just a touch less depressing.
The pair had debated a quick drink at The Three Broomsticks, but decided against the idea when the owner, Madam Rosmerta, who had been outside to adjust the main sign, had shot Pansy a look of disappointed disdain. For fuck's sake, when will this end?
"Maybe not," Daphne hissed, gripping Pansy's arm tighter in her own, forcing the dark haired witch closer to her. The stony camouflage that immediately descended over Pansy's face was not missed by her best friend.
"Oh, Pans, it's okay," Daphne said encouragingly.
Pansy didn't speak until the two had left the village's main street. Not that the place was particularly busy, but there were enough people around to make Pansy uncomfortable speaking openly. So, she waited until the pair were on a deserted part of the lane that separated the school with its neighbouring village.
"The whole world thinks I'm about to become a Death Eater, and everybody else probably thinks I'm already one."
"I know you aren't," Daphne replied, "and so does Millie, and Blaise, Theo, and Draco," she squeezed Pansy's arm as she spoke, "and Longbottom."
Pansy turned her head to look at her best friend, a slight smile creeping on her face despite the sinking feeling that still remained in her gut kindled by Rosmerta's stare. "I have to tell you something."
Daphne didn't speak. Instead, Pansy watched the blonde gasp, a look of excitement misting over her perfect features, her bright blue eyes full of expectation.
"We had a patrol last night," Pansy began.
"You and Longbottom?"
"No, me and Slughorn," Pansy answered, dryly. "Yes, me and Longbottom,"
"And?" Daphne asked, elongating the word.
"We talked for ages, properly talked, you know?"
"Mmhmmm,"
"And then we held hands while talking,"
Daphne let out a soft eeee sound as the grip she held onto Pansy's arm reached painful levels.
"Then, we might have kissed-"
"Yes!"
"For ages-"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
Daphne had spent the entirety of the walk back to Hogwarts plying Pansy for almost every possible detail of she and Neville's conversation, kiss, hand-holding and everything else in between. By the time the pair arrived back at school, Pansy felt well and truly interrogated, and Daphne finally looked satisfied.
"Oh, it's so romantic," Daphne said, dreamy tones washing around her well-spoken voice.
"It's...fucked up," Pansy countered.
They walked back to Pansy's dorm in relative silence. The corridors were mostly empty, many students choosing to not leave the safety of their common rooms for fear of the possibility of bumping into an irate Alecto Carrow.
"Can we get some food?" Daphne asked, and at her words, Pansy realised that she, too, was ravenous.
"Sure, I'll get Winky to sort us something, what are you in the mood for?"
"Oh, anything will do, maybe…"
But, Pansy only heard the beginning half of Daphne's sentence. She had shoved her hands roughly in the pockets of her jeans as they walked into the Head Rooms, and her right hand had enclosed around something, a something she was fairly sure wasn't there earlier today.
Bringing the folded scrap of parchment from her pocket, Pansy frowned. She knew what she wished it to be - or rather who she wished it was from - but it couldn't be, she hadn't seen him, or any of his friends all day.
"What's that?" she heard Daphne query.
"Good question." Pansy unfolded the parchment, her breath in her throat at the utter impossible prospect that somehow, deep inside her, she knew was the truth.
Pansy read the note in a few, short seconds, before passing it to a confused Daphne and uncharacteristically refused to hide the wide smile that had taken up residence on her pale face.
"Oh, you cannot say that this isn't romantic now!" Daphne exclaimed with a squeal. "Oh Pans, he must really like you."
Pansy's thoughts drifted back to the previous night, and a selection of the words exchanged between her and Draco in particular. He's falling in love with you, Pansy, you tit!
Daphne passed the note back to Pansy, who read the scribbled, although from what she had seen thus far of Neville's handwriting, somewhat neatly written, note.
I wish I could kiss you forever
The second note didn't appear until two days later. It had been a long Monday full of difficult classes, and an increase in Pansy's feeling of being even more shunned and ignored by the rest of the students. Neville himself hadn't paid her much more attention than usual, though his array of lingering glances burned with a whole new fire now, and with a whole new desire, that rippled between the two of them like their own personal brand of static, magical energy.
Pansy had slumped onto the couch, massaging her right hand against the back of her stiff neck. A transfiguration essay she had yet to start, let alone finish, despite it being due the following day, awaited her, as well as the next month's prefect patrol schedule.
It was the patrol schedule that ended up being the site for the next note to appear, and a quiet, "What the fuck?" escaped Pansy's lips as the small folded parchment fell onto her lap, exactly the same as two days before. How the hell is he doing this?
After unfolding the parchment, and reading the words to herself, Pansy let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. It seemed to release not just air but all the stress she'd felt only a moment prior, as an elated flutter began to dance in her stomach.
I'd be very grateful to be paired with the Head Girl again.
Pansy didn't have to wait as long for the third note, as it appeared the very next morning. Very nearly pouring some cereal on top of the perfectly folded parchment that was situated inside her breakfast bowl. Pansy blinked dazedly at the parchment for a few seconds, before swiftly grabbing it between her fingers and read the words quickly, whilst her Housemates were busying themselves with their own breakfasts.
Good morning, beautiful.
The fourth note appeared the next day, in the late afternoon, seemingly by a series of events of chance.
It had been a day where the Carrows' had taken a number of liberties with the menial tasks they had set Pansy, and a day she was fairly sure she would have cursed anyone who chose to look at her in a way that she deemed annoying in any way, shape, or form. Draco had forced her into longer Occlumency practise the night before, and Pansy was feeling particularly crotchety.
The witch whirled around a third floor corridor, absentmindedly daydreaming about which curses she would gain the most pleasure from inflicting on Alecto the most, when she happened to not notice the small group of bodies that were coming around the same corner in the opposite direction.
The collision wasn't as bad as it could have been, but the shock of the impact did make the items she was carrying drop from her arms. "Bugger," Pansy said aloud, to no one in particular, before rounding on the mystery group of students, the other half of her crash.
Pansy only just managed to stop herself from emitting an audible groan as she recognised the scowling look of Ginny Weasley, a confused expression that belonged to the face of Seamus Finnegan, a bemused, absentminded half smile possessed by Loony Lovegood and lastly, Pansy swallowed unable to bring herself to immediately look at the annoyingly amused look upon his face, Neville Longbottom.
The first three students said nothing, clearly not wishing to spend any more time in Pansy's company than necessary. The feeling is mutual, believe me. Neville, however, scooped up a couple of books that Pansy had yet to pick up, her hands full with a box of Dark Art paraphernalia that Pansy wished she could have nothing to do with. Neville hastily handed the books back to her, and Pansy didn't notice the brief, yet definite way his eyes met hers, before dropping back to the topmost book and then rising up to her own, once more.
Pansy swallowed, nodding momentarily and set off down the corridor without a second glance as Ginny's audible "You're far too nice for your own good," held her attention. Continuing on her route for a few more corridors and a few more corners, Pansy eventually felt she was far enough away from the three Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw.
She had stopped and perched herself loosely on a large windowsill, her heart thumping fast as she gingerly opened the hardback front cover of the book on the top. The note fell onto her lap, folded just like the others, and Pansy double checked that both ends of the hallway were definitely deserted - whilst trying to keep the smile from pulling at the corners of her mouth - before unfolding the parchment and reading the written, inked words.
The way you play with your hair when you're thinking is adorable.
Pansy sighed, the note balled in her fist as she pressed her back into the cold pane of the window and deliberated his words. Pansy Parkinson was not called adorable very often, in fact, it was possibly the last word that anyone would consider when asked to describe the Slytherin. But, Pansy would take it. She'd berate him for it, of course, because to the outside world, and even Neville, Pansy was most definitely not adorable, but she knew she'd keep the note forever, as a constant reminder that somehow, in the bleak obscurity of the world they now lived in, someone thought that Pansy was adorable, and she knew that her sanity would depend, at one point or another, on her holding onto that knowledge.
The fifth note was arguably the hardest to conceal, primarily due the comical way in which it was presented to her. Six individual, miniscule pieces of parchment found their way to her at various points of her Herbology lesson, in no discernible order. The first, after Pansy had gotten used to the notes that featured full sentences, had a rather disappointing to written on it. The next had a solitary I, and the next said again. Pansy refused to look at Neville, busying herself with the repotting of her assigned plants, scribbling notes as she went. She could feel his smile as he sneakily watched her receive, read, and promptly put away each one of the one-word notes. The following three pieces had need, you, and kiss, scrawled across them, respectively.
Pansy finished up the task she was working on, and after checking she was definitely not being watched - with the sly exception of Neville's frequent glances - Pansy pulled her book close to her chest, and arranged the notes atop a random page.
I need to kiss you again.
Pansy breathed deeply, the urge to put Neville, and coincidentally her, out of his misery, was so strong she could practically feel his body pressed into hers. She decided to do something she had so far refrained from, despite the temptation, and wrote Neville a hasty note back.
The next day, after Draco had confirmed that the ridiculous tasks she'd been breaking her back to do all week for the Carrows had been for nothing, Pansy was feeling particularly antsy. She had finally finished up December's prefect schedule, and was sitting impatiently, waiting.
"What do you keep checking the clock for? Expecting someone?" Draco asked, one of his brows raised.
"Not exactly," Pansy answered, her eyes drifting pointlessly to the timepiece on the wall. The face showed it hadn't even been one minute since the last time she'd snuck a glance.
"Well, I'm going to assume you aren't expecting a delivery. You going somewhere... to see someone, perhaps?"
"Maybe," Pansy murmured, annoyed at Draco's typical ability to decipher a situation so quickly.
"And, no prizes for guessing who that might be, I presume."
Glancing at the clock again, Pansy internally cursed her own lack of patience. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Draco."
"You know, as long as the pair of you can control any wandering hands, you can bring him here. I don't mind, mainly because I'm not jealous."
"You'd be okay with that?" Pansy asked, surprised. It was one thing for Draco to be supportive, and to even be almost friendly with Longbottom on the odd occasion, but she knew it was another one entirely to be in the company of your ex-girlfriend, and her new whatever the hell Neville was to her. She wasn't entirely sure how exactly she would feel, were the situation reversed, and she regarded her friend with an air of respect. .
"Of course," Draco said, sounding sincere.
"I might."
"But I swear to Merlin, if you fuck him in my chair, I'll hex his dick off."
"Duly noted."
An hour and a half later, Pansy found herself walking quietly through the halls of Hogwarts swiftly, and without faltering. It would most likely be unpleasant, even for Pansy, to have to run into Amycus, or Alecto, at this time of night.
Luckily, the path she walked was entirely clear of others, and she reached her destination quickly, and without incident.
The door to the empty classroom was closed, and silent, as she approached, and after one quick, further look to each side, she opened it and slipped inside. Her eyes took a second to adjust to the almost darkness, which was pitch black except for the lumos light of a solitary wand. In the wandlight she could make out a tall, familiar figure, who Pansy, after casting a swift locking charm on the door, marched straight towards, her desire to reach him holding no bounds by this point.
"You made it, I was star-," Neville began.
"Shut up, Longbottom," Pansy's voice was breathless as she threw herself against his firm chest, and her mind solely focussed on one, ever intensifying desire as her arms snaking around his neck as her lips and her world collided with his once more.