Weeks past, and there was nothing.

No attacks, no dementors, no awkward bonding moments over how dark and twisty they were deep down. Life simply continued.

Admittedly, it continued at a somewhat heavier pace than beforehand. There were new patrols around the mountains. Every movement and exodus of the dragons was documented. Time spent not researching or mucking out was filled with knitting Luna's mad contraptions and setting them up all around the mountain range. And each day the snow fell slightly thicker.

Daily, Pansy tramped into the cabin, frozen and happy. The layers she stole from others- Caesar's comically pink earmuffs, Toothpick's socks, Charlie's sapphire blue Weasely jumper, all came back sodden with sweat and melted ice, else were partially frozen into stiff boards. It was perverse. The physical exertion was exhausting, but satisfying. The preparations they established against attack made her feel safe and capable, not afraid. It was unlike school where the guerrilla warfare was enacted to exclude them. This time she was included and useful instead of feeling like some poisoned sacrificial lamb.

Her thoughts, which should have been spinning out of control worrying about Charlie, even they were in check. By some crazy, random, happenstance (and her forging timetables and annoying anyone silly enough to choose her as a scouting partner), she and Charlie were often paired on patrols. Here she could keep a careful eye on him, while making sure she was too brash and too loud to allow him a moment to ruminate. The mountains were filled with the sounds of their teeth chattering against the cold and their boisterous laughter. It was nice to have her friend back.

She had decided that the one thing that would sort Charlie out for good was to get himself a girl. After all, she couldn't keep an eye on him all the time, and a little bit of wink wink, nudge nudge cheered everyone up. It would be his early and only Christmas present. Further, it would stop her thinking about how nice his shoulders were when really she should be concentrating on her dissertation and finding herself a rich, socially-acceptable husband.

Hence she re-doubled her efforts on Mona's behalf.

"So, Pollyanna," said the ever scowling Pansy to the ever smiling Mona- who as ever puckered her forehead in ignorance at the reference. "The second half of my plan- which I have entitled 'The Dragon's Heart String Quartet' (yes, it needs to be snappier)- is about to reach completion."

"If this is about Charlie, please no. I am so over that bag of freckles," she replied. Her wand hand flicked, cursing frozen layers of ice down the mountain to reveal a path that had been hidden in mere minutes of snowfall.

"No, no, no- let's not be disheartened. He's not the brightest poltergeist in the haunted mansion when it comes to romantic notions. And he's been very… distracted lately. However I honestly think a lovely, way out of his league girl like you could really bring him out of his shell. He may even find another conversation topic than dragons."

Mona's face soften slightly, but her eyes became wary. Pansy only wielded compliments to get something, or if she was in a particularly soppy mood. However… perhaps it was because of their rarity or some peculiarity of Pansy's, but her compliments were always terribly sincere. You knew that if she said something nice to you, without laughing or tricking you in some grander scheme, then it came absolutely from the heart. Or whatever black-hole-esque vacuum she had instead of one.

"Also, I need a distraction from the monotony of work and fearing another friendly visit from the tall, dark and creepy," Pansy added, throwing a little too much force into her spell and creating a small avalanche down the hill.

"Oh," came the slightly chilled reply. "Pans, I really am not interested in Weasely. His personality has become starkly apparent to me… and, I think he's probably interested in someone else."

Mona gave Pansy a meaningful stare, but the girl shrugged- possibly feigning ignorance, possibly not.

"Nonsense. I'll get it sorted. All you have to do is look attractive, mention dragons a couple of times (which should be easy- look at your job description), and the magic of dancing under the stars will do the rest of it."

"Damsel, I am quite certain of this. Stop whatever scheme you have. I'm not interested."

Pansy hummed a little louder, and distracted herself with potential plots. Mona and Charlie. Charlie and Mona. Perfect, surely? They were both reasonably good-looking, liked dragons, and Pansy had not once fantasized about killing either of them brutally with a spade. If that wasn't a match made in heaven, then what was?

Oh, probably a brooding, blond millionaire and a girl who found herself displaced in a Romanian dragon sanctuary. Two people with so much shared history they couldn't help but hurt each other, yet have an affection kin to love. Shared history was important, she deduced. Their entwined childhood meant they were practically two heads of the same chimeric beast.

Something that had become starkly apparent to Pansy, despite the exchange of truths between her and Charlie, was the lack of understanding born of their different paths. It led to the tension, the secrets, the hatred. Yes, they were fine now, and as two people got on brilliantly. But the moment they scratched the surface of the other… It made Pansy afraid for some reason. She feared what Charlie thought of her because of her Slytherin background and traitorous friends. In the same manner, she found it hard to understand or forgive parts of him that… well, she had forgiven much worse of others.

Where did their difference originally lie? Was there one part that could explain the whole? The obvious answer would be the war. Loved ones battling loved ones. One side being right, and the other being so steeply heaped in wrong… And not by her own choosing. If everyone you loved chose the side of the dark, does that not really mean the decision has been made for you?

Perhaps it was even before that. Two different houses. Two very different lives. And deep down, Charlie and her were two very different people. Forgiveness did not seem to come easily between them, as it did she and Draco. With a horrible shiver, she played with the notion that with Malfoy she could probably forgive him anything. She already had forgiven him everything. The very worst sins. She was not sure she would afford Charlie the same understanding. He was stronger, more moral, and his family weren't manipulative psychopaths. More than anything, she expected better of him. He was a boy that would achieve great things merely by being good and kind. Draco was slippery. Right and wrong were not clear to him. They were too entangled with ambition and pride and deep love and loyalty. She forgave Draco because she could conceive of herself playing a very similar role had she been dealt that hand.

Of course, being a Parkinson and not a fool, she would have done it considerably better. If she was going to go evil, she'd go the whole hog. It would have made Bat Shit Crazy Bellatrix seem like an annoyed kitten in comparison.

Following Draco's most recent letter, Pansy could not quite stop these notions from sprouting. For weeks, she had barely spared him a thought, and yet that last owl… It's words bordered on kind. It's offer, sweet.

She shook her head against the snowdrifts. A couple of schemes to sort things out here, plus a teeny tiny dissertation to do, and she would leave things better than when she arrived. Then home to normality and away from these pesky, goodwill-inducing non-Slytherins. A slight ache formed in her chest as she watched Mona stride ahead. In the distance she saw Luna and Scamander setting up another of the orange traps, and yes, on the horizon a red-headed Weasely was flying in from patrols. Warmth and worry filled her chest at the sight of them all.

Surprisingly, this whole misadventure had been a nice break from her normal plot-filled, misshapen life. These wholesome, yet also broken people had been wonderful. However once she was gone, and a mere ghost of an annoyance in their memories, she did not imagine they would keep in contact. It was a strange realization to have when her time here was not even half over. Pansy took it as a sign to harden herself slightly, but also to live and laugh while she could. Enjoy their company and then forget them, she thought as Charlie landed smiling, and instinctively headed for her. They'll do the same for you.

Pansy gave the scene before her an analytical scowl. The plates were mismatched and cracked, but they were the best she could get her hands on. Jars of orange fire glinted merrily nestled amongst the holly and twisted twigs lain across the table's centerpiece. It looked… rustic. Not exactly the elegant dinner party Pansy was hoping to throw, however it would have to do. The main thing was it was warm. The small jars of fire let off a pleasant heat, and the bonfire to her back brimmed hot and ready for the food to be cooked on. The light glinted gaily from the gold place names written in Pansy's best calligraphy, as smoke from the bonfire disappeared in great dancing swirls up and up into the dark, cold sky.

It was a perfect night. The bright moon cast a pale whiteness on the colossal mountains. They almost looked too still and too beautiful for Pansy to believe they were real. To the south, a winged shape sailed through the sky- even from this distance she could guess it was the Ironbelly, roaming for lost sheep. A flutter of joy shivered through her stomach at the sight of it, much different to the intense, sickening fear she had experienced when she had first set eyes on the beast.

Jovial laughter announced the arrival of the wranglers. They were all there, clad in jumpers and hats and autumnal colours. They were so bright and warm in the winter cold that she could not help a smile slipping to her lips. Her eyes slid to Charlie, then Luna and Mona, to see what they thought at the sight of the dinner table set up. For a very un-Pansy moment, she realized she was nervous.

"Took you long enough," she welcomed them, eyes dancing when she saw the three she cared about most beaming. Everyone else looked vaguely surprised at the feast and the fire before them, but not those three. Mona rolled her eyes with a mocking smile- a motion she had learned from Pansy. Luna looked her usual dazed, content self. (Pansy was perfectly sure she would have that same, strange smile whether presented with a dead possum let alone a surprise dinner party).

Charlie's scarlet hair and blue, blue eyes shone in the firelight. His lips held a smile. Yet this meant nothing. He smiled for everyone. His lips formed a natural lie to please the world, protecting it from himself. It was his eyes Pansy cared about, and there was that telltale crinkle at their corners that belied true pleasure.

"What's all this then?" asked Wynne, her sardonic eyes slightly softer than they usually were. "A mysterious invitation to a mountaintop with no explanation… Mona was taking bets for you organizing a ritual human sacrifice."

"Hey, with Damsel that's always a possibility," Mona replied, winking.

"It's dinner," Pansy said with a shrug. "We'll all be off home for Christmas soon, and I thought it would be nice if we could have a last meal together. To say. Um. Yunno."

There was an expectant silence that no one saved her from.

"That thing. That thing that people say. When other people interfere. In an annoying but inherently not negative way. That."

"Is she having a break down?" muttered Caesar suspiciously.

"I suspect it's wargles," offered Luna helpfully. "Though she sounds perfectly sane to me."

"It's ok. No need to continue. We know what you mean. Can we eat now?" Wynne spoke up, obviously uncomfortable with wherever this was going.

"Shush, Ms. Warbeck, I think what Pansy's trying and failing to say is really beautiful," grinned Markus. "Let this embarrassment continue."

Pansy glared at him and gave herself a little mental shake. Parkinsons were brilliant public speakers (or so they had decided). This was ridiculous. Her fingers fiddled with the edge of her green, wool dress.

"Shut up, you. It's a good thing you have a great face because your personality is such a constant disappointment." Markus laughed heartily. "Anyway. I just wanted to say thank you. For teaching me, and bearing me, and not killing me even though I am well aware I am so annoying it often came to that point. Wynne and Professor, this whole dragon-thing has been much more brilliant than I could have ever expected. So thank you. I've learnt a lot… and you've accepted me even though I can be quite a hard person to accept." Her eyes flickered to Charlie, and swiftly looked away. "But I especially want to thank… um. They've got me though a lot of tough difficult points, perhaps without realizing they were doing so."

She took a deep breath, and handed out glasses of mulled wine for everyone to toast with.

"So everyone, I would like to raise a toast. A toast to…" Darkness flit over Pansy's face. That glass of mulled wine she had earlier was obviously a mistake. Back out of this now before you make a fool of yourself, Parkinson."… Markus' face. Your beautiful, ethereal, Scandinavian face. It's brightened many a day in the library with it's glory. If only you'd shut up (and had a worthy trust-fund) you would be the perfect man. Sadly, this is not the case, and it remains a permanent regret to us all. To Markus' face!"

"And his god-given body!" Someone (definitely Markus) added.

While everyone jostled for seats, Charlie came over to her. She smiled at his approach, lips instantly going to form a witty remark or insult… instead they failed her and just stuttered hello. She was so unused to doing something like this for people, and there was a very definite fear that they would find it ridiculous or lacking. Charlie found kindness so easy. You just had to see it in his easy compliments and care. He did it with such subtleness and ease that she hardly noticed it at all. Like when he took on more shifts when Pansy had a deadline to work to, or would leave her books that she was so bad at searching for in the library.

A sharp reminder entered her brain- Charlie is like that with everyone. If ever conversation surrounding Luna edged toward too critical he would ensure a change of topic. He would never allow a harsh word towards Wynne no matter how tough she was being. His kindness was colossal because it was just so constant. And still Pansy felt a pang of anger towards him. If he had just let others help, or hinted in was in pain, or treated himself more kindly… then perhaps he would be happier.

Charlie paused for a second before speaking. There was a look in Pansy's eye that was not easy to read. Her black hair flickered as it reflected the fire, looking like a river slipping down her back and shoulders. Her contrasts were always so striking. The harsh lines of her face and clear cut of green contrasted with her colouring. She looked uneasy, careful. He nodded his head down to her, wanting to comfort her in some way. His hand found the small of her back and he heard her cut off at intake of breath.

"Parkinson, you word smith. Truly, there was never such an elegant collection of sentences. That expensive, first-class education your parents paid for was definitely worth it."

"For a horrifying second I thought you were going to say something terribly touching and sincere," replied Pansy, relaxing under his gaze and touch. Joking with him was so easy. Too easy. "I was about to be overcome by a lack of cynicism. Thank Merlin, you went for the sarcasm line instead. My delicate feminine constitution wouldn't have been able to bear the alternative."

"I was being sincere," he replied, eyes crinkling. "You put my thoughts into words. Especially that bit about Markus. Truly beautiful. Oft I gaze at his face in glorious wonder, wishing I could compose an small ode or three part saga describing it's glory. Ah… those cheekbones."

Pansy nodded wistfully. "That ass."

Charlie narrowed his eyes in faux annoyance as she batted her lashes innocently at him (a look she pulled off about as well as a hippogriff sporting the latest fashions). He followed her to the table going to take the chair to her right.

"No, sorry Charlie, but you're over there between Luna and Mona," Pansy said briskly, avoiding his gaze. Mona noticed this and glared at her. "I'm between Scamander and He Of The Magnificent Bone Structure."

Charlie did not frown per se. His lips may have formed something resembling a pout of confusion before swiftly transforming into a beam towards the two girls. He dragged himself two chairs down beyond Scamander's hunched form and Luna's bright head of hair, plonking himself next to Mona. Pansy took her own place and controlled the impulse to shoot a joke towards the slightly sullen red head or yell at him for not being better at pretending to have fun.

The cooking ended up being a group effort as soon as they all realized that giving Pansy free-rein over the hog roast was likely to end in tantrums, third degree burns and food poisoning. Toothpick fiddled with an old radio, eventually managing to tease out a warbling version of Cloak & Cauldron's "Hex Appeal."

The party was going well. The food was edible and the mulled wine flowed freely. Everyone was chatting jovially, teasing Caesar about his pink earmuffs and chuckling at Toothpick's truer than life impressions. Rather flatteringly, Markus was set on flirting shamelessly with Pansy, and even Wynne afforded her an almost approving turn of the mouth.

This is a disaster, Pansy thought.

She had been keeping a careful eye on Charlie and Mona throughout the night. Yes, occasionally they had exchanged conversation, but often it was punctuated with Mona's barely hidden yawns. Charlie too seemed distracted and kept glancing over at Pansy- a look she alternately returned with a surprised smile or exasperated glare.

"Thank Merlin, it's not another Weird Sister song," sighed Mona. "That band is so over played."

Charlie was deep in discussion with Luna and Scamander at that point about the politics of dragon territory and the legal side of who was responsible for monitoring dragons when their habitats crossed country borders. Pansy had kept half an ear turned to this talk, intrigued by the legal side and of Charlie's knowledge of the area. He even seemed to out-maneuver Scamander's knowledge.

"Charlie," she said pointedly. "Don't you have anything to add to that?"

"To what?" he perked up, tilting his smile towards her.

Pansy was simultaneously endeared by his puppy-like manner and repulsed at her own endearment. He's a fully grown man for Merlin's sake who wrestles dragons for a living. Stop finding him weirdly adorable.

"Mona was talking to you about modern music. You may be unfamiliar with the concept, being obsessed only with five ton, fire-breathing monstrosities but that's no excuse for being unfamiliar with manners."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Rich coming from you, Parkinson. Sorry, Mona- I'm actually a bit of a fan of the Weird Sisters. You have to be in my household, or go mad."

Mona gave a tight smile, and muttered not quite inaudibly, "…You would be wouldn't you," before returning her attention to Caesar.

Pansy glared at Mona, who knew her well enough to glare right back. So Pansy aimed her evil eye instead at Charlie, who in turn looked at her as if she were perfectly mad, and started chatting to Luna about Quidditch. It was a conversation she was delirious to join, but felt so angered at her friends refusal to be manipulated by starlight, music and a perfect seating plan that she sat their sizzling with annoyance.

"Miss Parkinson, are you quite alright?" murmured Scamander later in the evening when they had all abandoned the table in favour of places around the fire. Pansy had strolled off a little, needing a moment of quiet to look out into the impervious night. Scamander also looked slightly fraught, having noticed that the roguish young Weasely had usurped Luna's attention.

"I'm not sure. Do you ever wish it was socially acceptable to use the Imperius Curse to ensure you friends make sensible romantic decisions?"

"No. Not even once."

"Then we really don't have much to talk about," Pansy said draining her glass, and giving Scamander a joking wink. She braced herself. "So why don't we talk about your new research… or the fact your madly in love with Luna Lovegood?"

Scamander stuttered with shock, but had the decency not to deny it. "I would rather discuss the sleep cycle of Snidgets, to be quite honest."

She studied the Professor for a moment. He was not that much older, and had a pleasant, quizzical face topped with a bird's nest mess of hair.

"It's terribly inappropriate, you know. She's your student."

"I'm aware," he sighed, looking mildly heartbroken. "And not only that, she's out of my league too. For the best really. I don't think I have the gall to keep up with so bright and brilliant and beautiful a woman. She's got such a future ahead. It's so rare to find someone who's still so curious about the world. So ready to challenge the accepted. A true scientist, really."

"And utterly bonkers."

"Wonderfully so."

Her eyes couldn't help skimming to Charlie, who seemed alive in the firelight; all red, laughing and bright. He was going to burn her, she was sure of it.

Since that night, that horrible night, he seemed lighter. As if saying the terrible, dark words had lifted something from him. He seemed like he was safe and happy for the time being. She wanted to preserve this happiness for him like a flower pressed in a book. She thought by placing him into the safe hands of Mona who was sunny and wholesome (and had an appropriately dry sense of humor), she could keep him safe.

She had completely failed. Mona was off fooling around with Caesar. Apparently her seating plan had been a complete catastrophe on that front. If only she had got Mona to strike when the iron was hot… but affections fade. Love was impermanent. She of all people should realize this; even her own Mother's affections came and went. All Pansy wanted was to afford them both a little happiness, and she could not.

"If you hurt Luna, it goes without saying…"

"You'll hang, draw and quarter me. No need. The only one in this situation who'll be afforded heart-ache is myself."

The sweet, heavy wine slipped down her throat. Scamander for a man over six-foot, looked strangely fragile and sure in that moment. His bird-like physique moved to leave Pansy with her thoughts.

As he went, she whispered in an undertone, "She will, of course, not be your student come next year. She'll be an equal. That's something to think about…"

"You seem… edgy tonight," came a deep voice behind her.

"I'm always edgy. I've got so many edges that I'm the envy of dodecahedrons everywhere," Pansy replied, pleased and not pleased to see Charlie. She spun to face him, hair awry and brow pulled down. Cheekbones and jaw cut harsh shadows on her face.

"Edgy and tipsy. Quite the combination." He placed his hand on the small of her back for the second time that evening, stabilizing her against the wind's chill. Charlie felt like it was trying to stabilize a tempest. "But be honest- is everything alright? And be brutal. I've off-loaded enough on you to deserve a lifetime of rants and horrors."

Her black eyes found his, focusing on him with that terrifying intensity. You couldn't hide from that stare. It made him feel more real- which was gratifying and distressing all at once.

"I'll tell you the truth," Pansy said finally. "I'm a little sad. Only a little. But mostly I'm sorry. I let you down tonight… You may not have noticed, but I was trying to set you up with Mona."

"Oh."

"You didn't realize did you?"

"Not exactly, but the whole night makes a lot more sense now. The seating plan, you being slightly strange, Mona being annoyed, and your scream of annoyance when she disappeared off with Caesar."

"I didn't scream. It was a huff of displeasure."

"Well, your huff echoed down the mountain," Charlie replied, noting he was close enough to smell the orange and spice of her perfume. "… Why did you feel the need to do that? It's not like Mona and I have much in common."

"You do!" Pansy exclaimed. "There's dragons… and me."

"Now even your ego isn't big enough to expect two people to base a relationship on discussing you."

"Lies. What do you think the main topic of conversation was in any of my romantic entanglements?"

"You haven't answered the question. Why, Pans?"

She took a deep breathe, casting her eyes away from his. Charlie leant closer. He did not want to push answers out of her she was not willing to give, yet at the same time he could not help but draw nearer to her. There was a magnetism to Pansy in her height, manner and aggressive wit. It attracted or repulsed. His hand slipped from her back round to her waist, before he remembered himself and stepped back slightly.

"You don't have to answer me- sorry, it-"

"I just wanted you to be happy," Pansy said. The place where his hand had been felt ghostly cold with it's absence. "Your one of my closest friends. So is she. I thought you could make each other happy."

Charlie was not quite sure how to swallow this, or respond. Instead he kissed her hairline, in a gesture too intimate and too companionable to make sense of.

"I am happy. I'm so sorry I put you in a position where you think you have to worry about me. Don't. I'll keep myself safe- if only to avoid your wrath." He gave her a reassuring, and annoying infectious grin, before his eyes grew watchful. "Is there something else bothering you?"

"Oh, I'm a little sad about Christmas. My Mother has decided that only she will get to see my brother. He's the only non-sociopath in my family. In fact he's the sole family member I actually like…. And yet is ironically the only one in Azkaban."

Pansy pressed her lips together, watching Charlie process this information. Her brother in prison. Conclusions naturally had to be made.

The blue eyes held her carefully. "Come to mine for Christmas." Pansy almost laughed and collapsed at the notion. "My family love company and a busy house. An obvious fact seeing how many siblings I have. It may not be a fancy event. But it'll be loud and messy and much improved by your presence. You'd make the whole endeavor much more bearable for me. My family are bored silly by my dragon anecdotes and may wet themselves with joy at having the most interesting person I know in the house… Mother may try and marry us on the spot, however that's a risk any female undertakes when breaching our doorstep."

The offer warmed her from inside out, like the toasty buzz you got from wizard chocolate. It would be lovely, a Weasely Christmas. All wholesome and mad. There probably would not be casual threats of violence over the dinner table or insults round the Christmas tree (or perhaps there would be, considering that the majority of the Weasely's were her childhood enemies).

"… That's one of the best and nicest invitations I've ever received, Charlie. Sadly, I've already sorted something out… but thank you. Really." She found his fingers and squeezed them briefly. The reassuring callouses enveloped her hand.

"In that case…" he replied, eyes looking a touch heavy, as if disappointed. He ruffled his hair in his typical gesture of awkwardness. "Do you want me to set you up with one of my friends? … Is that what friends do? I know you like Markus…"

Pansy screamed with laughter. "Oh, Charlie. It's not a body swap. And no, not Markus. That's just a joke. Plus he's sleeping with Wynne."

"WHAT?"

She nodded wisely, enjoying his surprise. "Yep, for ages now. Where did you think they had both snuck off to?"

Charlie looked flabbergasted. "I-I, well, I didn't."

"It's good you like dragons, you'd have had little success as a detective."

"I don't know if I'm more surprised or disturbed."

Another song erupted from the Wireless- a Weird Sisters classic, "There's no curse strong enough to escape our love." Toothpick grabbed Luna and whisked some of the others to the radio. Arms started waving, feet tapping. The music elicited mad dance moves from them all that made Pansy pale at their lack of rhythm.

Wordlessly, Charlie held out a gentlemanly hand to her. There was a wicked glint to his eye and pleased smile on his square face. Eyes-rolling, she took his palm, barely concealing her own grin. Wine spilled down their fingers as they span and skipped to the music, singing loud and resounding on the mountaintop. In the fading darkness, her lungs bursting with song and limbs aching with dance, she had a thrill remembering she was still alive. There were people in the world still living and breathing who she loved. Like heart-break, the world after the Wizarding War was painful, but it didn't stop you perpetuating. It felt cruel, sometimes, living when your insides were shattered. Yet there were still glimmers of brilliance and times where life was a little less painful.

When the sun came up, pockets of wranglers were collapsed to the floor exhausted. Matching the other pairs of people, Charlie and she shared a blanket, wine and fatigue making this familiarity easy and thoughtless. The dawn blushed a lovely pink. However, in the heedless contentment of the morn, Pansy let her eyes succumb to tiredness and ignored the glorious horizon before her. She let her head settle on Charlie's broad, sure shoulder, mildly noticing as she drifted off that Charlie's hand was still entwined with hers.