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Pansy pulled up the hood of her robe, trying to move quickly through the streets of Diagon Alley. She had not been in the alley since before Sixth Year, and now, she remembered why. It simply wasn't safe. Of course, after Sixth Year, it hadn't been safe because of the Death Eater attacks. No one was safe - if you were out and caught in crossfire, that was on you for not being fast enough to defend yourself.
Now, however... now, Pansy was much faster with a wand, a skill she had picked up over her Eighth Year at Hogwarts, a requirement of her probation, given how she had still technically been a child, but had also insisted they hand over Potter, and well... she had grown used to being a target.
Always a target in her youth, by parents that wanted a son and heir. Always a target as a teenager, because she was a Slytherin. Always a target as an adult, because she was the child of Death Eaters. She was the one that had betrayed Potter.
No one bothered to care that she had simply weighed the life of one student versus the lives of so many, including her little sister.
At least Posy was still safe at Hogwarts. No one knew that Posy Parks was from a Pureblood family, or if they did, they overlooked it. Good sweet Posy, the soft Hufflepuff that had more than one cat, but every teacher overlooked it. Overlooked it, thankfully, because Pansy no longer had any leverage in the world.
All she had was far too much coin from the vaults she had inherited when she became of age, untouched, unlike her parent's vaults, and time. Too much time.
After all, no one would hire a Death Eater. There were no Masteries she could pursue. No future husband, given that everyone that had ever once agreed with her was now either dead, imprisoned, or under harsher probation than she was.
She was alone... and unfortunately, in need of a few items from the Apothecary.
Once upon a time, she would have sent an owl, but an owl required a destination, and stating that it was to be sent to Parkinson Place, well... Things never did seem to arrive unbroken.
Now, however, she regretted her decision, because as she walked quickly through the nearly deserted streets, she quickly noticed that there were people following her. A great number of them, in fact.
Throwing up a protection spell, she tried to hurry her steps, when she heard a hex being cast. Whirling around, she threw up a shield, and saw a grown man, an adult, one she didn't even recognize, casting another spell at her.
More and more came, only from a few men, all adults, none she even recognized, but -
There was a crowd, and they were simply watching.
"Call the Aurors," someone called out.
"Tell them we found a Dark Witch," another added.
A sense of dread filled Pansy as she realized what was happening.
If she she casted one single offensive spell, even in defense of herself...
Probation ended.
All she had to do was outlast them, make it to the Apparition points, and-
She looked over her shoulder to see more approaching. There was no Apparition in Diagon Alley, and she doubted she could make it to Knockturn with this many around her casting spells. All she could do was maintain her shield, and...
And hope that whomever came, whichever Auror team it was, they would be more forgiving than this crowd,,, and the courts for that matter.
Another hex flew through the air, and then a curse. She blocked them both, but another hex came, this one striking her in the arm. She ignored the pain, and added another shield spell, backing herself up into a wall.
"Leave me alone," she begged, hoping someone would step in. "I've done nothing wrong."
"You're a Dark Witch," called someone from in the crowd. "You're not welcome here. You belong in Azkaban with the rest of them."
She wasn't going to argue. There was no real point. After all, they had already made up her mind about her.
More spells flew through the air, and she blocked them all, one after another. It wasn't a duel, wasn't really fair, but she didn't have to attack back. She just had to outlast.
And she could do that. She had endured so many curses on her body, she could take a few hexes from those that hadn't even fought during the war. It didn't matter which side Pansy had been on - she was still braver than the lot of them.
"The Aurors are here!" called out a voice.
"She's over here," another said.
"We've got her trapped."
Pansy threw up another shield and waited until she saw a badge, then threw out her wand in front of herself, her hands up.
"I didn't cast anything but Shields," she insisted, looking at the Auror team. She didn't recognize the Auror in front, the man a few years older, but behind him was-
"Nev?" she asked, startled.
"Nev?" repeated the Auror in the lead, but Pansy didn't even see him.
Instead, she could only look at Neville Longbottom.
It had been... months. They had spent their Eighth Year together, she often in extra detention, and him often assisting the professors, and they... well, Hogwarts term had ended months ago. She hadn't heard from him since he left to become an Auror.
"Pansy?" he asked, freezing where he was.
"Is this the Dark Witch we were sent here for?" the other Auror asked, turning to look at the crowd.
More than half of them froze, as though realizing, suddenly, that they might have made a mistake.
"Check her wand," the Auror said to Neville.
Neville looked almost embarrassed as he approached, picking up her wand from where she had tossed it, and began to check the previously casted spells.
"You look good," Neville said awkwardly.
Pansy didn't respond.
"Her wand is clean," Neville said once he was done. "She was telling the truth. Shielding and Protection spells only."
"You'll need to get her cleaned up," the other Auror said, eyeing the two of them. "I'll deal with the crowd."
Pansy watched as the two gentlemen shared a nod, and then, Neville turned to look at her, offering her wand back.
"I'm sorry about the crowd," Neville said awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.
"It happens," Pansy said quickly, trying to give off an air of not caring.
In truth, she had been terrified. An angry mob that had lived for a year in suppression could finally take their revenge on a young woman that they knew was leashed... There was no telling what they could have done.
"Well, it shouldn't," Neville said seriously. "You're not a Dark Witch."
"I am the daughter of Death Eaters," Pansy said, lifting her chin defiantly. She knew who and what she was - she had never forgotten it.
"You're not a Dark Witch," Neville repeated. "They shouldn't have attacked you."
She gave him a shrug, then watched as his hand lifted to her brow. He rubbed at something there, and she realized it was her blood. She was bleeding from a few spots, but-
"Come, let me take you to Mungo's," Neville offered.
She shook her head.
"They won't treat me there, and you know it," she said seriously. "I was on my way to the Apothecary. I'll just... get extra supplies and clean myself up."
"You can't cast healing charms on yourself," Neville chastised.
"I'm fully aware of that," she snapped back.
And then, she felt bad.
He looked down at her again, and she could feel how awkward it was.
He had written, and she... she had burned the letters. They weren't children anymore. He had a future, and she...
"How's your sister?" Neville asked. He was one of the few that knew.
"She's well," Pansy answered softly. "She's enjoying Fourth Year."
Neville nodded and looked away, then back towards the crowd, which was now dispersing.
"You never wrote back," he finally said.
She immediately turned away from him, as though he wouldn't see her anymore if she wasn't turned in his direction. It was an absurd thought, but she didn't want his eyes on her, didn't want his judgement, didn't want him to see... didn't want him to see how terribly she felt about it.
For ending it.
"Yes, well, we're no longer children. I have my life, and you have yours."
Neville snorted and stepped in front of her, keeping her from looking away from him.
"Really, Pansy? That's what you're to go with? Saying that it was a childish love, and that we're now grown, and-"
"I never called it a love," Pansy hissed.
"I would call it love."
The word hung in the air between them, and she wanted to turn and walk away, but in truth... she didn't feel safe in Diagon Alley. She should just... leave and go home.
"There's no future for me," Pansy said, turning her gaze up to the sky. "You know that. I've been... in talks with a few boys from Durmstrang."
"You're not engaging yourself to someone from Durmstrang," Neville snapped, his voice far more harsh and booming than she had ever heard it before.
Even he looked surprised at his tone as he took a step back, blinking while he looked down at her.
She just looked at him, stared at him. He had grown more handsome with time, grown into his teeth and his jaw. She could remember, so easily, how he looked underneath that uniform, and goodness, how he looked in that uniform...
"You heard the crowd," Pansy finally said, knowing she had to end this... for good. "I'm a Dark Witch, and you-"
"I'm an Auror," Neville said confidently. "Which means I have a position of respect. It means that anyone I'm involved with has to go through an extensive check themselves, to prove that they are not a threat to the rest of us. It means... that if you were my witch, everyone would know the truth about you - that you can be trusted. That you're not who they think you are."
She didn't even know what to say. His witch... as though he had it all figured out. She knew, logically, that he had become an Auror because of his parents, not for her, but the thought that he might be thinking ahead so far as to vetting her...
"We were just children trying to find a bit of comfort in a cold war," Pansy said honestly as she looked up at him.
"That explains Seventh year," he said, nodding his head. "What about Eighth? We spent two years together..."
She didn't have an answer for that. The truth was... she had always known they had no future, and yet... she had been selfish enough to want him for herself. For just a little bit longer.
"I'll ruin you," she said honestly, still trying to find a reason to push him away, but he... he seemed to have come prepared. As though... as though he had been ready to see her again, whenever he saw her again.
"You already have," he said honestly. "I can't see myself with anyone else."
She swallowed down her fears, then gave a little nod. It was tiny, but it was there, and it was-
"Go to dinner with me," he asked. "You said it was childish before, so let's be adults. Let me take you on a date. A real date."
The closest they had ever come before was a picnic on the grounds, out of sight of everyone else.
If he was willing to take her on a date... a real date...
"We were children before, you're right. But now... Pansy." His voice was soft as he reached up and touched her cheek, not for blood this time, but simply to touch her. "I've loved you for three years. That's not going to end now."
"Three?" she asked, very confused. "But, we were only together-"
"Three," he confirmed. "I saw you in Sixth Year, no longer hanging all over Malfoy. You were just... worried. And I knew why you were worried. I knew why you were scared. Harry was too busy worrying about Malfoy to look at the rest of your table... you all knew what was coming."
She said nothing, just swallowed down her response.
"It's why you insisted your sister go by Parks."
He was right, of course. Not that anyone else had ever noticed.
"I saw you, Pansy. I've seen you for years. What, you think you burn my letters and that's going to end it for me? Take a chance. Go to dinner with me."
She took a deep breath, and made her decision.
"I still need to finish my shopping... and get cleaned up," she said as an answer.
He laughed. "I'm still on duty for another six hours."
Her teeth caught her bottom lip, something she only ever did around him, and then she smiled.
"I'll owl you, then?" she asked, feeling a bit... nervous.
"You better."
Together, he escorted her to the Apothecary, where he maintained his distance as was expected, but as they reached the Apparition point, she quickly turned and pressed a kiss to his lips...
Then Apparated away, intent on immediately finding a piece of parchment so she could send that owl.
It was a few months overdue.