Archive of Our Own

“Poppy, take Ellie and go!” Pansy shoved her sister and youngest cousin towards the door to the corridor leading away from the Slytherin common room. She glanced back to see Theo’s wand starting to waver. 

The battle raged throughout the castle overhead, knocking dust and bits of stone loose from the ceilings. An explosion earlier on in the night had cracked the great glass wall that separated them from the lake, and the slow trickle of water had gone unnoticed until another booming explosion from the direction of the bridge had expanded the crack. Now the water was pouring in, with the seventh years trying to hold off the gush long enough to get the younger students out. 

Theo, Blaise, Millie, Daphne, and Pansy. They were all that remained. Tracey had fled at some point last summer, and Draco had been Marked, with Greg and Vince on his heels. She didn’t dare think about where they were above her. 

Daphne was the first to abandon the effort to hold the water at bay; it reached her ankles and she followed Astoria up the staircase, her blond hair whipping around the corner. Shouts and cries reverberated off the stone corridor, and Pansy grabbed for Theo’s free arm.


“Blaise! Take Millie and go! We’ll hold it until you’re out!” Theo’s voice was nearly drowned out by the roar of the rushing water, but Blaise nodded, and took Millie’s arm, dragging her away. Pansy’s own arm began to shake without the support of the other two, and the weight of the water pressed against their charms. 

“Pans when I say go, run! Do you understand me?” Theo met her eyes, and she saw the fear in his. She tightened her grip on his arm, and nodded. He wouldn’t have been able to hear her anyway. 

Theo tensed beside her, and she waited for his signal.


“NOW!” Theo yelled, and she dropped her wand, already turning away. 

A burst of purple light filled the common room, blinding her. Still she turned, running for the door, the icy water now nearly to her knees. She waded through the water, but it had risen to her hips before she’d made it halfway to the exit, and she looked around, searching for Theo. He was several paces behind her. Behind him, the crack expanded further, and she watched in horror as it shattered inward. 

Her scream was lost in the wall of water that crashed over her, and the world disappeared into darkness and silence as the current swept her away. 

~~~

Neville hung his head, exhaustion weighing on him, thick and heavy. The sword of Gryffindor was still clutched in his bloody hand, and everywhere he looked, there were tearstained faces and dead bodies. Bodies of his friends, his teachers, his classmates. 

The Great Hall was lined with them, and he couldn’t bear to stay there. He stood, his joints aching and muscles sore, but couldn’t seem to unclench his fist from the golden hilt. Each step was a struggle, but the air was clearer in the courtyard. Blood and ash stained the stones underfoot, but the smoke had cleared, and stars sparkled overhead. 

He took a deep breath, and he was grateful for the quiet. 

Quiet that was broken by sniffling. He peered around, and deep in the shadowy corner, two small girls huddled together. He drew closer, and one of the girls began to cry in earnest. Through the darkness he could just make out the emblem on their cloaks. 

The tiny girls, first or second years if he had to guess, were Slytherins. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s all over.” He held his hands up, and the moon glinted off the sword in his hand, while the girls shied away from him. “Wait, no! It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” Neville glanced around for someone else, but the courtyard was deserted.

He dropped to one knee, setting the sword aside. “I”m Neville. What are your names?”

Two sets of tear-filled eyes blinked back at him from the darkness, and one of them wiped her nose on her sleeve. The other held tightly to her free arm, peeking over her shoulder. The one in front peered up at him, and he had the nagging feeling that she looked familiar. 

“I’m Poppy,” she whispered, and Neville nodded, smiling reassuringly at her.


“Hi Poppy. Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head, her dark, shoulder-length hair flaring out from her face, and the girl behind her dodged her flying hair. She made a face at Poppy from behind her, but peeked out a bit further. “I’m Ellie.” Her hair was long, falling in auburn waves down to her waist. Her eyes were bright blue, and were narrowed at him as if she didn’t believe he was actually speaking to them. 

“Are you hurt Ellie?” She shook her head much more slowly than Poppy had, her eyes never leaving Neville. 

“Good.” He glanced around again. “Why don’t we go find the other Slytherins? Or Professor Slughorn?” 

“No!” Ellie’s yell echoed around the courtyard, and Neville held his hands up in surrender. 

“Hey, it’s okay. The Death Eaters are gone now. We can get you home to your parents.” 

Ellie began to cry again, and Poppy reached for her hand. “You’ll come home with me,” she whispered, but the redhead just sobbed into Poppy’s shoulder. Poppy surprised Neville by glaring at him, as if her friend’s tears were his doing. 

“Dumb Gryffindors,” she muttered under her breath, and Ellie’s sob came out choked, as if it was halfway between a cry and a laugh. Neville blinked at them, not understanding until Poppy murmured, “It’s okay. We’ll find Theo and you’ll both come with us.”

It was as if a lightbulb turned on over Neville’s head. The two girls often shared a table with Theodore Nott in the library, not far from his own favorite table. The redhead must be his little sister. The dark haired one was the spitting image of her own older sister; Pansy Parkinson. That’s why she looked familiar.

“Where did you last see Theo?” Neville asked gently. He was sure that he’d seen Theo beside Pansy as they’d been ushered to the dungeons. It felt like years before; had it really only been hours? 

“The common room was flooding. The seventh years were trying to save us.” Poppy still glared at him, and his blood ran cold. 

“Did they all get out?” Neville felt sick. They’d been sent to the dungeons for their safety… Or had they been sent to their deaths?

“We don’t know,” Poppy snapped, and Neville held up his hands in surrender again. 

“Okay. Let's find out. If it's flooded, we’ll need help.”  He climbed back to his feet, biting back a groan as his joints protested. 

“Why are you helping us?” Ellie peered over Poppy’s shoulder, and he could feel the unasked question hanging in the air. Why are you helping the daughter of a Death Eater? Neville looked down at the two, and wondered if he’d really ever been as small as the two girls were. 

“Because I was raised to help where I could,” he said simply. Poppy narrowed her eyes, but Ellie nodded slowly. They shuffled forward out of the dark, huddling together as Neville retrieved the sword. “Come on. Let’s get you two ladies sorted.” He held out a hand, and was surprised when Ellie took it. Her hand was tiny in his own, cold and shaking. She held on for dear life, and he hoped with everything he had that her brother had escaped the flood; her father was numbered among the dead, and Theo might be all she had left. 

~~~

Pansy’s body ached with the cold. If this was death, she wanted to have a word with the universe. 

The cold seeped through her bones, but something else was wrong. She felt weightless, and something brushed her cheek. She opened her eyes, but there was nothing but darkness around her. She tried to take a breath, but her chest refused to expand. She couldn’t lift her head or her arms, and the effort to even keep her eyes open was too much. 

She closed her eyes and let the darkness overtake her again, her last thought that she hoped Theo had made it. He needed to take care of Ellie. And Poppy.

~~~

Neville watched helplessly as the two tiny girls cried. Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bullstrode sat on either side of them, wrapped in blankets, staring blankly at the wall across from them. 

He didn’t think he’d ever see Millicent cry, but tears had poured down her face when she had to form the words to tell the first year girls that Ellie’s brother Theo and Poppy’s sister Pansy hadn’t emerged from the Slytherin common room. 

Minerva had organized a search for them, but with the sheer number of wounded and the attempts to stabilize the castle, the search had been cut short. Neville himself had taken the plunge into the icy lake, but aside from the giant squid, he hadn’t seen anything helpful. There was no sign of the two Slytherins, and he feared they too would be listed with the dead. They were just gone. 

He was still watching over the two girls when McGonagall and Slughorn came by, arranging their trip home via portkey. Zabini and Bullstrode had been taken away hours before for questioning.  Neville overheard the professors talking quietly, trying to find someone to accompany them.

Neville cleared his throat. “I'll take them, if you don’t have someone else.”

McGonagall looked up over her list, narrowing her eyes at him. “If you’re sure… That would be most helpful.” He nodded, and she handed over an old battered biscuit tin. The two girls watched him silently, long since cried out. 

The portkey deposited them on the step of a manor house, the Parkinson seal in iron on the doors. Poppy and Ellie each took one of his hands, holding tightly as they waited for the door to open. When it did, the doorway framed a tall, curvaceous woman, whose red hair was the same color as Ellie’s. 

She looked between the three with sad eyes, and stepped aside, allowing them in. 

“Mum…” Poppy held tighter to Neville’s hand. “Pansy--” 

“I know, darling. I know.” Neville supposed that had her voice not been leaden with grief, it would have been sultry, the kind of voice that dripped sex even if they were discussing the weather. 

“Aunt Calliope, what do we do?” Ellie’s death grip on his hand tightened further, and Neville’s chest grew tight. 

“I think we should start with getting you bathed, fed, and rested. Everything else can wait.” The woman’s voice was surprisingly soft, and belied the cool image she projected. Poppy’s eyes darted around the hall, and Calliope shook her head, a defeated expression if Neville had ever seen one. 

“Your father isn’t here. The interim minister had some questions for him. I don’t expect him back.” Neville met her eyes, and understood. Her husband had been involved with the Death Eaters. “Ellie, darling, I had Libby fetch some of your things. They’re in the room beside Poppy’s. Both of you thank Mr Longbottom for his time, and we’ll get you taken care of.” 

Neville’s eyes widened, but Calliope Parkinson nodded at the girls, and he dropped to one knee to speak with them both. “If you need anything, send an owl, alright? I’ll keep looking for them. I promise.” 

Both girls nodded solemnly, and Ellie hesitated for a moment before throwing herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing. “Thank you, Neville.” She released him only to be replaced by Poppy a moment later. She didn’t say anything, just squeezed until he wondered if his head would detach. 

The girls disappeared a moment later, leaving him and Mrs Parkinson. She watched him with steady eyes, the same deep blue as Poppy’s. And Pansy’s, he noted, surprised that he knew that about the missing girl. He’d spent much of their time at school avoiding her as much as possible. 

“Thank you for caring for them,” she said softly, and he nodded. There was nothing he could think of to say, and she didn’t seem to expect more. There was an awkward moment of silence as Neville fought with himself, but his curiosity won out. 

“Ellie’s mum--” 

“My sister, Cordelia. She died in childbirth with Ellie. I’ve already been informed that the piece of scum that called himself their father was killed. She’s safe with me. Linden isn’t much better, but he’s never laid a hand on us like Pluto did. Theo takes good care of her, but…” she trailed off with an elegant shrug.

It was far more information that Neville would have expected to be given so freely, but he nodded, relief seeping through him. 

“I was serious. If they, or you need…” He trailed off, suddenly feeling ridiculous. What  could he have to offer them? 

Calliope smiled sadly. “Thank you for your kindness. Your mother would be very proud.”

Neville was taken aback. “Did you--” 

“For a Slytherin, she was remarkably kind. She was the best of our house.” She smiled sadly. “I still think of her whenever Pansy talks about her prefect duties.” She looked away, clasping her hands tightly in front of herself. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find Pansy,” he said quietly. Like with Millicent, he’d never really considered what Pansy or Theo were like to their loved ones. 

“Thank you for trying.” 

Neville left shortly thereafter, returning to the castle. He sat on one of the ruined balustrades, and stared out over the Black Lake. They’d won the battle, but he’d never felt so defeated. 

~~~

Summer came and went. 

It was unending funerals, trials, and work as they rebuilt the Hogwarts castle. He found himself between the two girls at Pluto Nott’s funeral, though he was the only one there besides the two girls and Calliope. They didn’t shed a single tear for him, and they seemed lighter once the crypt had been sealed. 

He’d gone to Linden Parkinson’s trial, again sitting between Ellie and Poppy in solidarity. Their hands had been cold but steady in his own, and he wondered where the girls found the strength. The two Slytherins were braver than he’d ever been at twelve. As the Parkinson patriarch’s crimes had been solely financial, he’d been fined an extravagant amount and released. Calliope’s long practiced mask hadn’t wavered, until Pansy’s name was mentioned. There was a flicker of something Neville couldn’t name, but felt akin to the helplessness he felt when he visited his parents. 

Neville spent countless hours of the rebuilding efforts in the dungeons, helping to repair the glass wall of the Slytherin common room and returning it to its former glory. He lost track of how often he stared out through the glass, wondering if Pansy and Theo’s bodies would ever be found so they could be laid to rest properly. Calliope had been insistent that without bodies, there would be no funerals before a full year had passed. 

The night before the students were to return to the castle, he sat at the edge of the lake, and watched the moon dance over the surface. Hermione sat beside him in companionable silence, lost in her own thoughts. 

“I don’t know how to walk through the castle tomorrow and pretend like it’s just another year,” Hermione whispered, and Neville saw the moon reflect off a single tear that dripped down her face. As adult “eighth years,” Minerva had invited them back a day early, giving them a chance to make their peace with returning without so many of their peers. 

“I don’t think we’re meant to,” he said gently, and closed his eyes, thinking of the two girls that had pleaded with him to meet them at the train. He’d agreed without hesitation; he felt responsible for them, knowing that their own siblings weren’t there to protect them. 

A voice echoed out over the lake, singing a sad, wordless lament. He opened his eyes, and Hermione was scanning the dark, her knuckles blanching around her wand. 

“Must be the merfolk,” he whispered, and she nodded, lowering her wand but not easing her grip on it until the song faded away. 

A twig snapped behind them, and they were both on their feet, wands raised. Neville was shocked to see the pale face of Draco Malfoy illuminated by the moon. His eyes were wide, and his hands were raised in surrender.

“I didn’t realize anyone was out here.” His voice was hoarse, and he looked sickly thin. Neville lowered his wand slowly, though Hermione kept hers leveled at his chest, her hand shaking ever so slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” Hermione’s voice cut through the night like a whip. 

Draco’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and gestured to the lake behind them. 

“I was coming to pay my respects to my friends.” His voice broke, and Neville glanced sideways at Hermione. The anger in her eyes softened incrementally, and Neville reached for her hand. Draco’s eyes flicked to where their hands touched, but he didn’t say anything more. 

“Why here?” Hermione persisted, and Draco seemed to shrink within himself. 

“This was Pansy and Theo’s favorite spot. It seemed fitting.” 

“Come on,” Neville told Hermione. “We should go find Harry and Ron.”  She nodded and let him guide her away, but never let go of her wand. Neville couldn’t blame her, especially when he caught sight of the blood seeping through her sleeve. 

~~~

The days dragged by, each one longer than the last. It was two small girls with Slytherin green robes that seemed to get him out of bed each day. Ellie and Poppy followed him like lost puppies, and he found not only did he not mind, but he looked forward to their presences. The three of them spent most of their time in the greenhouses, as all three of them tired of the endless stares and whispers that surrounded them, but when they ventured to the library, Neville made a point of sitting at the same table they’d shared with Theo so many times the previous year. 

Sometimes Hermione would join them, and soon Harry and Ron made appearances as well. Luna stopped by occasionally, but more often than not she could be found with Ginny.

One Friday night in late October, the six of them huddled around the table in the library, and Neville’s patience with the whispers was hitting it’s limit. 

“I don’t know how you did this for seven bloody years,” he muttered to Harry, and Harry snorted. Hermione shot them a look over her book, but Ellie was scooting closer to Neville, watching a table of mid-level Slytherins warily. 

“Can we go?” She said it so quietly that Neville nearly missed it, but she was so close he could feel her breath on his arm. 

“I think that's a great idea. Are you lot coming?” He was mostly asking Hermione and Harry, as Ron was staring at a table of Hufflepuffs several rows over.

“Thank Merlin,” Harry sighed, snapping his book shut and shoving it into his bag. Hermione was slower to move, but Neville was pretty certain she was just as tired of it as they were. Ron on the other hand muttered something about needing a book, and slipped out of his chair and headed towards the Hufflepuff table. Hermione muttered something Neville couldn’t hear, but was much quicker to stand after Ron had slid into a chair between Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. 

Together the five of them escaped the library, and they found themselves slipping out the front doors, the quiet peace of the grounds beckoning them. 

Neville found himself leading the way to a sheltered spot beside the lake, holding a tiny hand in each of his. Harry and Hermione followed quietly, their wands in hand. Neville didn’t think it was necessarily for their own sakes, but the safety of the two girls that had them on edge. 

Slytherins were more often than not on the receiving end of a hex or jinx after the preference they’d seen from the Carrows and Snape. It was part of the reason Neville was so careful to show his solidarity with the two. They’d lost so much, and none of it had been their fault. Harry and Hermione had been two of the first to accept the duo’s presence, dubbing them “The Twins” and making a point to check on them if Neville wasn’t around. 

He wondered if their association with them made it harder in the Slytherin common room, but then, they were rarely there, preferring the company of the older Gryffindors. 

He was pondering how they would manage the following year without them when they stepped through a break in the trees, and found the spot was already occupied. 

Four figures stood with their wands raised defensively, and Neville yanked the girls behind him, releasing Poppy’s hand in favor of his wand as Harry and Hermione angled themselves in front of them. 

The tip of a wand lit, and Neville recognized Millicent Bullstrode, standing between Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. More wand tips lit, and Daphne Greengrass appeared from the shadow behind Blaise. 

“Draco?” Poppy squirmed out from between Harry and Neville, rushing at him. Still with his wand raised, he dropped to one knee and hugged the girl tightly, his grey eyes never leaving the three Gryffindors. 

“Daphne!” Ellie likewise escaped Neville and Hermione’s hold, wrapping her arms around the slender blonde’s waist and burying her face in her stomach. Daphne lowered her wand, cradling the small girl against her. 

Neville watched the scene unfold, struck silent. He’d never seen the older Slytherins show any kind of affection, but the twins obviously loved them. Something like jealousy bloomed in his stomach. He'd been the ones to protect the girls, to shelter them and watch over them, and these four, who he’d barely seen outside of assigned classes were being met with open arms. 

“Ok, I think we can all lower our wands now,” Harry said carefully, eying the Slytherins. Shockingly, it was Draco to lower his first, followed by Millicent and finally Blaise. Neville likewise dropped his arm, but Hermione kept hers in front of her, eyes burning in the dim light. 

“Hermione, it’s okay,” Neville murmured, reaching for her wand with his left hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers, and she let him lower it, though her hand shook beneath his. “We’re not here to fight. We just want some peace and quiet.” He spoke loud enough that the Slytherins could hear him, and they visibly relaxed, turning their attention to the twins rather than the trio that had accompanied them. 

Harry skirted around behind Neville and Hermione, taking her other side, and they all sat on the shore, watching the knot of Slytherins. 

Draco had stood, holding Poppy so her feet dangled off the ground, whispering something into her hair. Daphne was still on her knees with Ellie, though Millicent had knelt beside them and was rubbing Ellie’s back gently. Blaise had turned away, fists on his hips as he looked out over the lake. 

Neville looked away, feeling like an intruder on a personal moment. He took a stick and began drawing in the pebbly sand, while Harry and Hermione put their heads together and spoke quietly. 

A while later, Ellie approached, dragging Daphne and Millicent towards them, a bright smile that Neville rarely got to see on her lips. The two older girls looked uncomfortable, but they stood in front of the three Gryffindors without flinching. 

“Longbottom. Potter. Granger.” Millicent  nodded at them, and the three shared a look. 

“Bullstrode,” Neville greeted stiffly, unsure of where this was headed. “Greengrass.”

“We wanted to tell you thank you for looking out for Poppy and Eleanor.” Daphne shifted on her feet, looking anywhere but directly at them. “Theo and Pansy would be livid with us, but they’re safer with you.” 

Neville blinked, and realized that she was right. “Is that why you deserted them?” He hadn’t realized how angry he was with the older Slytherins, but it came out in a rush. “You think that they’re better off without you?” 

Hermione’s hand closed around his wrist, but the floodgates had opened. 

“They’re twelve and you left them to fend for themselves!” Neville got to his feet, Harry and Hermione scrambling up beside him. Draco, Blaise, and Poppy came closer, but stayed well back.

“Longbottom, what do you think would have happened if we’d tried to step in?” Millicent’s eyes were flashing now, and she stepped up to face him squarely. 

“They have the protection of the bloody golden trio and the fucking Snake Slayer .” Millicent spat out the words bitterly. “The four of us are barely surviving ourselves, but they have you. ” 

Hot tears burned at Neville’s eyes. “But they need you! We didn’t know Theo and Pansy! They need the memory of their brother and sister, and you’re stealing it from them!” Neville was shouting now, but Millicent didn’t shy away. 

“Neville,” came a soft whimper, and Neville looked down to see Ellie looking up at him with tears in her own eyes. The anger that had built in his chest was gone in a rush, and he stepped back, shaking his head. 

“I’m sorry, Bull- Millicent.” 

Millicent raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s Millie, and I’ve been waiting years for that.” 

Blaise let out a laugh, and Neville looked around, shocked. Daphne held her hand out to Draco. 

“I told you she’d be the one to do it.” Draco scowled at her but dug in his pocket and a flash of gold passed hands. 

“I— what?” Neville looked between the four, and then at the twins. Ellie and Poppy rushed forward, hugging him as tightly from either side.

“Daphne’s been saying since like fourth year if any of the Slytherin girls made you cry it would be Mills,” Blaise laughed, his shoulders shaking. 

“Pansy would be so pissed! She was sure she’d be the one to do it.” Draco huffed a bitter laugh, looking sharply away, out over the lake. 

Neville didn’t feel especially forthcoming that he’d already cried over Pansy Parkinson, so he let it be. They didn’t need to know. Instead he wiped his face clean of the angry tears and hugged the girls back. 

“You lot are mad,” Harry muttered, shaking his head, and Hermione snorted beside him. 

“Perhaps, but we’re also survivors. I hear you might know something about that, Potter.” Daphne cocked her head at him, and Harry’s face belied his confusion. 

“I’m not sure I understand what’s going on here,” Hermione whispered, and Daphne turned her attention to her. 

“Survival is survival, Granger. If it’s a school that hates us or the Dark Lord… We all survived.” 

Hermione stared at her for a moment, and then crossed her arms. “I’d take the school over Bellatrix,” she bit out, and everyone cringed. The twins buried their faces against Neville’s jumper, and he held them a bit tighter. 

Draco swore, and all eyes turned to him. He looked embarrassed, but he looked to Millie. “You know that stupid blade?”

She nodded slowly, and Draco jerked his chin at Hermione. Hermione took an automatic step back, and Harry raised his wand. 

“Don’t fucking touch her,” he growled, and Draco raised his hands complacently. 

“Not me. I can’t do it. But Mills had to heal me from it a hundred times over.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, and she pressed her arm tighter into her stomach. “We’ve tried everything,” she whispered, and Millie sighed, shaking her head. 

“It has to be Lestrange blood,” she said softly. “My father’s mother was a Lestrange, so I can do it, if you trust me.” 

Neville shook his head, holding the girls even tighter. “What are you talking about?” 

Millie glanced at Draco, who nodded ever so slightly. “The knife that Bellatrix favored was the Lestrange’s cursed blade. We think she liked it so much because even though she was a Lestrange by marriage, she didn’t have Lestrange blood so she couldn’t heal the wounds it caused even if she wanted to, or was injured herself.” Millie’s face twisted in disgust. “It can only be healed with blood from the Lestrange line. Otherwise it takes forever to heal and will leave scars that no potion can fade.” 

“So you’re saying you can heal her?” Harry looked at her in disbelief. 

“She spent half of sixth year healing me from my lessons with Bella,” Draco said softly, and Hermione looked horrified. 

“You mean she did this to you?” Hermione’s voice was barely a whisper, and Draco nodded, avoiding her eyes. 

“Please—Millice—Millie.” Hermione looked at the other witch, tears shining in her eyes. 

“If they’ve already scarred… is it too late?” Neville’s voice shook, and Millie looked at him, confused. 

“I don’t know. I always got to Draco’s within a few days, if not hours.” 

Neville nodded numbly, and Hermione cried out as she understood what he was asking. “She did this to your parents?” Her brown eyes were filled with tears now, and they trickled down her face as he nodded. “I didn’t know… Neville I’m so sorry I never would have—“

“Hermione it’s okay,” he said softly, reaching over Ellie to take her hand and squeeze it gently. “I didn’t even know it was the same thing until now.” 

Draco turned away, and Blaise followed, gripping his shoulder tightly. Neville shook his head, letting go of Hermione’s hand. 

“Millie can you do it now or does it have to wait?” Neville turned back to the other girl, and she chewed on her lip. 

“Now would be best. But both of you have to promise not to touch her or it won’t work.” She glanced between Neville and Harry, and they both nodded. 

“Daph?” The blonde girl came to stand between Harry and Neville, not quite touching either of them. 

Millie nodded toward the ground. “You should probably sit. It hurts and even Draco couldn’t always take it.” Hermione bit her lip, but sat back on the ground, rolling her sleeve up. Millie knelt before her, cradling her arm gently in her hand. She showed no reaction to the word cut into Hermione’s skin, but Daphne recoiled slightly. 

“Blaise? It’s bigger than any of Draco’s. We’re going to need silencing charms.” Blaise released Draco’s shoulder and did as he was told, silencing the small clearing. 

Harry’s breath quickened beside Neville, and Daphne reached out, taking his hand. “You have to let her do it,” she whispered. “Squeeze my hand, but don’t go to her. I’m so sorry.” Harry met her blue eyes and nodded.  Neville squeezed the girls tighter. They covered their ears and kept their faces in his jumper. Was it too late to get them out? 

Millie’s wand flicked, and blood welled from her palm. She started chanting, and Hermione’s eyes were saucer wide when she lay her hand over the still-bleeding cuts. 

Hermione screamed, and Harry jerked, but Daphne swept his legs out from under him, straddling him as he hit the ground. “You can’t touch her,” she whispered, holding Harry’s hands in her own. 

Neville doubled over, sheltering the two girls from the piercing screams. Blaise held Draco in an iron grip, slowly lowering him to the ground as the blond’s knees buckled beneath him. 

Millie kept chanting, and Hermione’s screams splintered. 

Neville’s chest ached and he couldn’t breathe, the crying stealing the air from his lungs. 

A sad song filled the air over the lake, the water amplifying the sound as Hermione’s cries faded. 

Hermione fell still as Millie finished the spell, falling back onto the shore, breathing hard. Harry stopped fighting Daphne’s hold, his eyes wild. Neville found himself on his knees opposite Draco, whose face was deathly pale, even more so against the black was of Blaise’s. Neville still held the girls who cried softly into his chest, their fingers knotted in his jumper. 

The music echoed soft and haunting over them, two voices melding into a folk song Neville vaguely recognized. It was the last verse that hit him, and he released the girls, crawling to the edge of the lake. 

Oh, there arose my father's pray'r

In holly evening's calm,

How sweet was then my mither's voice

In the martyr's psalm;

Now a' are gan! We meet nae mair

Aneath the rowan tree,

But hallowed thoughts around tee twine

O' hame and infancy.

Oh rowan tree.

Tears dropped from his cheeks to the lake, sending ripples over the calm surface. The words faded away, and still the tears fell into the water. 

“Oh gods, Pansy,” Draco cried, and Neville looked around, yanked from his own world. 

Daphne had climbed off of Harry, and was now whispering to him as she stroked his hair, a strangely intimate gesture from the aloof girl. Millie had healed her own palm and was cleaning the blood from Hermione’s arm. From what Neville could see, the skin was unblemished and clear. Poppy had left Neville in favor of Draco, both of them crying Pansy’s name. 

Ellie and Blaise were the only two not in tears from what he could tell, and Blaise was drinking deeply from a flask, while Ellie was huddled in Neville’s arms, staring out over the lake, as if expecting something.  

It was a long while before they’d each gathered themselves, and it was Hermione, huddled under Blaise’s cloak that finally spoke. “Who was singing?” 

Neville didn’t really expect an answer, but the one Ellie gave made his blood run cold. 

“It was Pansy and Theo.” 

They all turned to look at the girl, her red hair bleached strawberry blonde by the moonlight, her blue eyes eerily pale. 

“It was the song they’d sing together. You know it was them.” She looked directly at Draco when she said it, and Neville thought he went almost grey. 

“Ellie,” Daphne said gently from her place on the ground between Harry and Neville. “Pansy and Theo are gone. It couldn’t have been them.” 

“But it was,” Poppy piped up from Draco’s lap. “It was them.” 

The group fell silent again, and there they sat in silence until long after curfew. When they stood, Ellie asleep in Neville’s arms and Poppy in Draco’s, they all looked at eachother, a quiet pact formed between them. Neville, Hermione, and Harry accompanied them to the Slytherin common room, and then departed for Gryffindor tower without a word. 

~~~

It was weeks later that Neville found himself back on the shores of the lake, the December wind painfully cold. Since the traumatic night that Millie healed Hermione, the three Gryffindors and the six Slytherins had been practically inseparable. Many didn’t understand the sudden shift, and truth be told, even Neville wasn’t entirely sure what had transpired that night. 

What he was sure of, was that Blaise was a dirty minded fiend, Daphne was tougher than anyone would give her credit for, Millie was a born healer with a heart of gold, and Draco was as much a victim of Voldemort’s schemes as himself or Harry. 

Since that night, none of them were ever alone. Neville hadn’t realized that in every class the Slytherins lurked in the back until he, Harry, and Hermione dragged them forward, much to Ron’s disgruntlement. He hadn’t been there that night though, and he didn’t understand the shared anguish they’d experienced. That was fine though, as he seemed perfectly happy in the arms of Susan Bones. Meanwhile, Harry had confided in Neville that Daphne had caught his eye, though he doubted that she would ever see him the same way. Neville wasn’t so sure. 

Still, he genuinely enjoyed their company, and their stories of Theo and Pansy. By all accounts, Theo had been quietly brilliant, and Pansy had been loyal to a fault. He often wondered if he’d like them as much as he loved their sisters, and the answer he always came to was a resounding yes. Even more unsettling was the common thought that drifted through his mind when they spoke about Pansy; he wondered if he’d ever find someone like her. Even in death her personality sparkled and her sharp wit made him laugh; she was everything he wanted. 

His herbology thesis had brought him to the shore of the lake, with Hermione and Draco. The twins were practicing charms with Millie and Blaise, while Harry and Daphne were in the library, trying to find a book on painting mediums for Daphne’s remembrance mural. 

The snow hadn’t yet started to fall, but ice clung to the edges of the water, frosting over the needles of the evergreens. The plant he needed supposedly grew in the shallows of the lake, thriving in the icy waters, and he wasn’t looking forward to plunging his arm into the dark depths, but his work on medicinal herbs was promising to help with the addictive effects of common sleeping potions, and both Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey were thrilled with the potential it held. 

Hermione held a book open, the drawing of the plant he needed in full colour on one side. Draco held his lit wand aloft, guiding her through the forest and keeping her from tripping over exposed roots and fallen branches. It wasn’t late, but it was dark, and Neville wondered if he should call it quits and come out during the day, on a Saturday perhaps, when everyone else was at the Quidditch match. 

The thought stayed with him as he crept along the shore, eyes straining to see through the cold, dark waters. Draco spoke quietly behind him, telling Hermione a story of the time Pansy had dumped him in the lake in February. Apparently she’d grown tired of his whining after the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. Neville smiled to himself, and for the thousandth time wished he’d known her. A cold gust of wind made his eyes water, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear it. The single tear dropped into the lake, sending a soft ripple over the surface. 

He continued on, and saw the deep blue leaves of the plant he needed waving in the gentle current. Bracing himself, he rolled up his sleeve and plunged his arm into the water up to his elbow. The water was painfully cold, but the plant gave way easily, and he brought it up triumphantly. 

“Great, can we go in now? It’s bloody freezing and Granger’s lips are turning blue.” 

“If you’re so worried about her lips, Draco, maybe you should do something about it,” he snapped back, and looked up in time to see Hermione blush scarlet, and Draco glare at him. Neville shrugged, tossed the plant to the shore, and turned back to the lake. The plant usually grew in clusters, so he looked carefully for any neighbors, and found several more. He pulled them free, tossing them to join the first. 

“What the hell…” Draco drew closer, the light of his wand falling on the pile of plants Neville had harvested. Instead of the three he’d tossed over, there was a small mountain of the plants. “Are these some kind of freak plants that multiply in the air or something?” 

Neville blinked at the plants. “Er… Not that I’m aware of.” 

Hermione gasped, and she pointed at a spot in the water just beyond Neville. “I swear there was a hand there.” 

Neville backed slowly away from the water’s edge, uneasiness slithering over his skin. “I think this is enough for tonight. We should head back.” Draco was nodding, grabbing Hermione’s hand and leading her farther away from the lake. Neville gathered the plants, keeping an eye on the water. Nothing broke the still surface, but he whispered into the dark, “I’m still looking, Pans.” 

~~~

The next time he needed to collect the aquatic plants, it was a Sunday morning at the end of January, and even colder than it had been in December. 

This time Hermione and the twins accompanied him, as Daphne and Millie were busy with a potions assignment, and Blaise was “refereeing” a seekers match between Harry and Draco. Neville was pretty sure that equated to hurling insults at whoever was closest, but they seemed happy enough. 

The twins were bundled in heavy cloaks and their Slytherin scarves covered everything but their blue eyes, one set the color of spring skies, the other the blue of a twilight ocean. 

He was drawn back to the same spot as before, and was glad he’d chosen to come during the day. The lake seemed less like a hopeless abyss, and the twins chattering was pleasant background noise as he searched the shallow waters. 

The first bunch he found were slightly deeper than the last time, and the cuff of his sleeve got wet where it was bunched around his bicep. He tossed the plant aside and reached for his wand, drying it carefully.  

Tucking his wand away, he scanned the water again, and one of the girls gasped. 

“Oops, sorry,” he called, not looking up to see who he splashed. 

“Neville?” It was Hermione, and her voice shook. He looked around, and found her pointing at the mound of plants, much bigger than the single plant he’d picked. On top rested a silver bracelet. 

“Pansy?” Poppy reached for the bracelet, and Hermione lunged at her, but missed. Poppy’s hand closed around the bracelet, and Ellie shrieked. 

“I TOLD YOU!” She tore at her green and silver scarf, looking out over the lake. “THEO! PANSY! Come back!”

Neville grabbed at her, her limbs flailing as she tried to reach the lake. 

“THEO COME BACK!” She was crying, and her tears dropped into the lake as Neville held her from the water. 

Poppy was huddled in on herself, holding the bracelet to her chest, and Hermione hugged her close. 

“Ellie, Ellie, shhh. It’s okay darling. Shhhh.” Neville held the struggling girl as she cried, though his own tears welled in his eyes. “I know you miss them, I know darling.” 

“It’s Pansy’s,” Poppy sobbed from behind them, and his own tears fell to the lake with Ellie’s. “She never took it off. She’s here, I know she’s here!” Hermione pointed her wand, a silvery shape leaving the tip and disappearing through the trees. Mere minutes later, Harry and Draco sped over the trees, landing beside them on the shore. Draco huddled over Hermione and Poppy, while Harry stood in front of Neville, capturing Ellie’s face between his palms. 

“Hey, Ellie. Look at me.” Harry spoke softly but firmly, and Neville hated that they’d all had the practice they did to calm the two girls. “That’s right. Look at me sweetie.” Harry swiped her tears away, and Ellie went limp in Neville’s arms, all the fight in her gone. Instead she just cried; great broken sobs that broke through her chest and echoed across the water. 

“I want Theo,” she sobbed, and behind him Poppy screamed her anguish into Draco and Hermione’s arms. Neville passed her to Harry, and waved at Draco to get his attention. 

“Get them out of here. I’ll finish and meet you in the greenhouses.” Draco scooped up Poppy, while Hermione collected their brooms and led them back up towards the castle. Neville looked back to the pile of plants, already frozen over in the cold winter air. Anger bubbled up in his chest as the cries of the girls faded. 

“Godsdamn it, Pansy!” He hit the surface of the lake with his fist, soaking his sleeve and cracking the ice. “They need you! Hot tears fell, and he hit the surface of the water again. “Poppy and Ellie and your mum! They need you! And by some cursed fate, I need you! You can’t just be gone!”  

The words poured out, the truth of them hitting him like a wall. It had been eight months since she’d disappeared and somehow he’d fallen in love with a dead woman. Somewhere between Christmas dinner with her mother and the rest of the Slytherins, Poppy telling him about her paintings and Daphne’s late night reminiscing about her terrible sweet tooth, Blaise telling him how Pansy was a force of nature that couldn’t be matched… He’d fallen in love with her, and he’d never get to have her. He’d never get the stolen touches like Draco and Hermione, or the winks across the table like Daphne and Harry. 

“I want to hate you,” he whispered as more tears disappeared into the depths. “Gods I want to hate you for leaving us but I just want to love you, Pansy.”

His knees were soaked, and his sleeve was beginning to ice over as he stood, gathered his plants and left the lake shore without looking back. 

~~~

Neville avoided the lake after that. He had enough of the herb from the two gatherings that he made any excuse he could to stay away until the night before the one year anniversary of the battle. 

The whispers were louder than usual, and Ellie and Poppy’s perpetually tear-filled eyes made his chest ache, especially when he caught sight of Pansy’s bracelet on Poppy’s wrist. 

One year. 

How had it been an entire year?

Daphne had put the finishing touches on her mural earlier that day, and hadn’t said a word since, sitting in silence with Harry’s arm around her shoulders. Draco and Hermione sat side by side, their pinkies brushing every time one of them stopped breathing. Millie and Blaise passed his flask back and forth between them, and Neville kept his arms around the twins. He didn’t think his jumper had been dry of their tears for a week, but he didn’t care. 

“Come on,” he finally said, and the group followed him without question. He led them to the same clearing where their bond had been forged, where Hermione had been healed and where his heart had broken when he’d finally voiced his love for the woman that he would never hold in his arms. 

“Calliope said no funerals for a year,” he said softly, and the girls shuddered against him. “Tomorrow is a year, and we need to say goodbye.” 

He felt numb, looking out over the calm lake, the sun setting behind the castle and the stars emerging. 

“We have to say goodbye,” he repeated. 

Draco dropped to his knees beside the water, but it was Blaise to speak first.

“Theo you’re the dumbest genius I’ve ever met. If I could go back and not leave your side…” his voice broke, and Millie reached for his arm. 

“We’d tell you to shove it,” she finished for him, and they chuckled. “And Pansy… Gods Pansy. You just had to be brave that one time, didn’t you?” Millie stared over the lake, her eyes haunted. 

“I think I would have liked Theo,” Hermione offered. “I always like someone that can give me a run for my money.” She smiled sadly as Draco scoffed. 

“I never got to thank Pansy for shoving you in the lake,” Harry added, clapping Draco on the shoulder. “Had I known, I’d have asked her to do it again so I could get it on camera.” 

The group chuckled again, and Daphne finally broke, her sobs tugging at Neville’s heart. 

“I miss my best friend,” she cried, and held on to Harry’s arm around her. “Gods I miss you so much, Pansy. I’d never date you again Theo, but gods I miss you too.” 

Neville squeezed the girls shoulders, knowing there was nothing for them to say. So he said it for them. “Poppy and Ellie miss you both. They miss you terribly and nothing will ever change that. But I promise we’ll take care of them for you.” Neville’s voice broke. “I never got to be a brother but I am now. I hope you approve, Theo. I know how protective you were.” Tears slid down his face and soaked his collar. “And Pansy…” 

He couldn’t make his voice form the words. He couldn’t tell the void that was her absence that he loved her. 

One by one they joined Neville and the twins, linking their arms over each other's shoulders, crying tears for their lost friends, sister, brother, and loves. 

Voices floated over the water, singing of a Rowan tree, and Neville couldn’t stand any longer. He hit his knees, unable to breathe. 

It was Draco and Harry that helped him to his feet, and they stumbled away from the lake, their hearts in pieces. 

“Wait.” A soft voice called after them, and Neville stopped, still supported by his brothers. He looked back, and wondered if he was hallucinating. 

A man and a woman stood waist deep in the water, their dark hair gleaming in the moonlight. One set of blue eyes were the colour of spring skies, and the other was the colour of twilight oceans. 

Ellie and Poppy broke free of the hold Daphne and Hermione had on them, running for the lake and diving into the waiting arms of the figures. They caught the girls, and waded further out, water streaming from their clothes. 

Their hair was longer than Neville had last seen it, but then, it had been a year since he’d seen them disappear into the dungeons. 

“Pansy?” Daphne shook off Harry’s hold. “Theo?” The hope in her voice terrified Neville, because the same hope had bloomed in his chest. 

“It’s us,” Theo answered, and Blaise whooped, charging them down and hugging them so tightly they gasped. Ellie and Poppy still hung around their waists. Daphne was the next, followed by Millie and Draco. The three Gryffindors stood stunned, unable to question it or even move. 

It was a long time before they moved forward. Theo grinned at them, and jerked a thumb at Daphne and Draco. “So you’ve managed to tame my two favorite paramours. Who do I get to join?” Harry and Hermione blinked, confused, and Daphne smacked his arm, hard. 

“I told you I’m not marrying you, arsehole,” she laughed, happy tears replacing the sadness of the last year. 

“Great, I always wanted to get my hands in Granger’s hair,” he said with a wink, and Hermione’s mouth worked soundlessly at him. 

“It is much softer than it looks,” Draco offered, and Hermione and Harry turned shocked looks to the blond. He just shrugged, offering no more in way of explanation. 

“Alright then. But can we get some food first? The merfolk are very hospitable but I can’t say much in the way of their culinary skills.” Neville shook his head, still not believing or comprehending what was happening. 

His eyes fell to Pansy, and she was watching him with a curious expression. He didn’t know what drove him to do it, but he cast a drying and warming spell over the entire group, and Pansy sighed with a small smile. 

“I haven’t been properly warm in a year. Thank you.” Her smile reminded him of Poppy’s, but it had so much more weight behind it, as if she knew something he didn’t. 

“I— I don’t—“ Neville stammered. 

“Food first?” Pansy still hadn’t taken her eyes off of him. “Then I’m sure McGonagall’s going to flip a lid, so you might as well join in the fun.” She winked, and Neville’s heart stuttered. 

“So to be clear,” Hermione squeaked. “You’re not dead?” 

Theo laughed, throwing his arm around Draco’s shoulders. “Not yet. But honestly, I might die of starvation if we keep this up.” 

There were murmurs, and Millie huffed, the healer switch evidently turned back on. “Not until after you see Pomfrey, and I think you need a bath, you smell like the lake,” she ordered, dragging Theo towards the tree line. 

“Pansy, you too,” she called, and Pansy smiled, those unnervingly steady eyes still on Neville. 

“I’m coming. I just need to talk to Neville first.” She patted Poppy’s shoulder. “Go on, sweetie. We’ll catch up.” Poppy huffed but did as she was told, skipping ahead yelling “I TOLD YOU SO,” with every other skip. 

It felt like eternity but Neville stood there, staring at Pansy as if he’d never seen her before. Her blue eyes, so much like her mother and sister’s, her long, glossy black hair grown out to the middle of her back. Her eyelashes were dark against her pale skin, and her cheeks were flushed pink. 

“You’re staring,” she told him tauntingly, and he just nodded. She cocked her head, a playful smile at her lips. 

“Poppy has good things to say about you. Well, most seem to. But Poppy’s the only one that matters.” Again, Neville just nodded. 

“Neville?” She took a step forward, and placed a hand against his chest. Her hand was nearly as small as her sister’s, and had he not been looking, he wasn’t sure he’d have felt it, her touch was so light. “Thank you for taking care of Poppy and Ellie. And thank you for coming to look for us.” She smiled, melancholy touching her eyes. “I’d like to get to know you myself, but I feel like I already know everything I need to.” 

“Everything you need for what?” His voice finally worked, and she smiled deviously. 

“To love you. I came back to you, after all.”

~~~

Pansy sighed, wrapping Neville’s cloak around her more securely. It had been five years since she emerged from the depths of the Black Lake, and in some ways it still felt like a dream. 

The June sunshine filtered through the trees, sparkling on the surface while Neville waded through the shallow water, collecting something or another. She thought back to the day of the battle, and the horror she felt when she’d been swept away into the depths of the lake. 

She and Theo had both been injured, and the merfolk had rescued them, nursing them back to health. She still didn’t totally understand their magic, or how the merfolk had been able to sustain them as they recovered, but she was grateful to them. The first few months had been fuzzy, dark shapes floating in and out of her vision like half formed ideas. 

What she did remember was the song she and Theo had sung together since their childhood. Together they recovered, growing stronger until they could reach the surface. They would reach the surface at night, sometimes singing together, sometimes drawing near to the shores to try to glean information as to what had happened that night. 

Theo was the one to find the Slytherin common room and peer in. He’d been the one to see Ellie and Poppy one night, cradled in Daphne and Millie’s arms. He stayed to watch over them, and managed to deduce that the Dark Lord had lost. 

It was Pansy that had visited them every night afterwards, listening to them talk about their studies and how Neville had taken them under his wing. 

It had been their tears in the water that had summoned her to the shore, but like many other things, she couldn’t explain why. She’d watched her friends take in the Gryffindors; Millie healing Granger, Daphne and Blaise holding Potter and Draco down as they’d had to do to Pansy and Theo when it had been Draco crying out in pain. 

She’d seen Neville care for Poppy and Ellie, still too weak to leave the lake. It had been cold and dark, but the lake had provided them a place to recover. Theo and Pansy had both been there the night Neville had admitted his love for her, and that had been the night they’d promised each other that they would make it out. 

The night they’d all gathered on the shore to bid them goodbye for good, Pansy couldn’t wait any longer. She couldn’t return to the merfolk to bid them goodbye and lose them all forever, so she and Theo had sung their farewell and revealed themselves at last. They’d still been weak, but they’d done it anyway. 

They’d ended up spending months in St Mungo’s recovering further, but it had been worth it, as Neville had been by her side every step of the way. She’d even come to tolerate Granger and Potter, but as they were both head over heels for her best friends, it was hard not to like them. 

Now Millie was a healer, married to a bloody Weasley , though he got points for being a dragonologist. Daphne and Harry had mini Potters, Hermione was trying to teach Draco and Theo how to use the telephone installed in their kitchen, and Blaise was still Blaise, content to be the uncle that taught them all swear words and supply the alcohol to every child’s birthday party, except the children of Ron and Susan, as Susan had gotten sick of drunken shenanigans playing out in her kitchen. 

Neville had accompanied her home from St Mungo’s, intending to say goodnight on the doorstep. She’d overruled him, and they’d scarcely spent a night apart since. Calliope had welcomed Neville with open arms, though Linden was far more begrudging after the Christmas Pansy had been missing. Neville claimed that he didn’t really care; Calliope, Poppy, and Pansy were the only Parkinsons he cared about. 

Pansy never felt warmed through unless she was in his arms, something the healers attributed to her year in the lake. They couldn’t explain Neville’s ability to negate it, but she didn’t care. There was a lot she’d never be able to explain. From how she’d lived underwater for a year, to how tears in the water called to her, or how she’d been able to fall in love with the man currently knee deep in muddy water without ever speaking to him. 

Neville splashed, sending droplets of water flying, a handful landing on her cheek. She wiped them off with a roll of her eyes. “Still no scales,” she called, and he grinned, winking cheekily at her. 

“Just checking.”