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What a dreadful night, Pansy thought to herself as she sat in the new wizarding pub of London. It was a neat idea actually, to disguise a building in a muggle neighborhood, best of both worlds really.
She was slightly familiar with the area, but only ever ventured the streets during daytime. She was hoping tonight would be her adventure into the nighttime muggle streets, but the boys had to cancel due to food poisoning.
She left her corner and headed for the bar ordering one more drink. She should’ve just stayed home, she was never going out there by herself, and now she just looked like a sad witch drinking alone.
“Pansy?”
She quickly turned her head, his voice startling her. She stared a moment too long but couldn’t help it, she was in shock. “Longbottom?”
They were both silent, in a bit of an awkward pause, looking one another over. He straightened his spine, grip loosening from the glass he clutched.
A mop of curly hair sat atop his head, dark brown, but not too dark, almost like it had highlights; and it was quite well-manicured for being so thick. He wore a soft smile and raised his eyebrows in question, meeting the loose curls falling on his forehead. He was rather handsome, when did Neville Longbottom get handsome?
They both began an attempt to speak and end the silence but before anything could be said they were interrupted.
“Neville? Oh Gods, Neville, I thought that was you!” A girl with straw blonde hair was passing, followed by another man and woman all wearing obnoxious smiles. “Happy Birthday!” she said brightly, throwing an arm around his neck for a quick hug then stepping back.
“It’s your birthday? Mate, I had no idea, Happy Birthday!” The man chimed in from the back while the other woman gasped far too loud and practically yelled her happy birthday at him.
There were about three feet and a barstool between her and Longbottom, so the group didn’t acknowledge her, assuming she was on her own.
“Oh, thank you guys,” Neville responded looking a little surprised. He directed his gaze back to the blonde “Hannah, how is your niece? Did she enjoy the book I owled over?”
“Yes! That was so sweet of you; hopefully, this is her last week in St. Mungos and she can continue treatment at home,” she said with a smile.
“That’s wonderful to hear,” he said with a soft nod. “I will send her another tomorrow to get her through the rest of the week.”
The blonde, Hannah, was now being pulled away by the friends “Okay! I’m sure she will love it, great to see you!” she yelled, walking backward.
“You too,” Neville said, but certainly not loud enough for her to have heard him.
He slowly turned his head back, eyes finding her own, and gave a sheepish smile. “So, how have you been, Pansy?” he asked.
Her brain wasn’t working properly because her eyebrows drew together and all that came out was, “It’s your birthday?”
“Oh, uh,” now his brows pulled together, preparing to elaborate but she cut him off.
“Your birthday is today, and you are spending it alone in a pub?” She meant to stop there but it kept coming out. “You should be at a party, everyone in this place should be celebrating you. You’re a war hero, you killed the snake, and- and -” Her temper started to rise, she was pissed, she didn’t know Longbottom all that well, but none of them would be here without him. “All the students you protected at school, you kept so many children safe for months,” why is he alone in a pub on his birthday, why are none of his friends here, why does he look sad, all of this is wrong.
“Pansy,” he interrupted.
“You killed the snake!” she said, gesturing wildly and stepping up to him.
“Pansy,” he said again leaning toward her, taking her full attention. She took a deep breath with him and gathered her thoughts.
“Were those people your friends?” she pointed in the direction Hannah and the others walked off.
“Yes,” he nodded, “Co-workers as well.”
“The two in the back, they didn’t know it was your birthday?” How could he call those people his friends, they didn’t even ask him how his day was, how he celebrated, fucks sake, they wouldn’t have even known if it weren’t for the bimbo in the front.
“I don’t expect them to know my birthday.” He said simply like this was a perfectly good answer.
“You knew about her niece, even sent books.”
“Yes, well Maggie is a sick child, not a man celebrating his 25th birthday.”
She was trying to make a point and he was ruining it. Friends should know friends’ birthdays. She had no idea it was his birthday, but she refused to believe this made her a hypocrite because it wasn’t her job to know his birthday; they weren’t friends.
“Besides,” he stated, “All my closest friends wished me a happy birthday earlier today.”
Right. He did say those were coworkers, it’s possible he used the term ‘friends’ loosely. He is rather famous, lots of people to know and inform, maybe more intimate gatherings were his scene for celebrating. “Oh, I see, and how did you all celebrate?”
“Oh well,” He was getting flustered. Perhaps her niceties were now coming off more like an interrogation. “I didn’t get back into town until this evening, I was on business.”
“And then?” she leaned in, “What did you do to celebrate?”
“Well, nothing, it’s late, and everyone has Harry’s gala to be ready for tomorrow. I received plenty of owls and even some packages.” He waited, then realized she expected him to continue, “Hermione sent me a lovely Herbologist potion set that she crafted herself.” He tried adding.
No festivities for his birthday and all she could picture was the elaborate invitation sitting on her counter for a birthday gala organized by the ministry in honor of Harry Potter.
“It’s your birthday today and none of your friends celebrated,” she muttered, “What about your family, you celebrated with them?” she said much happier knowing this had to be how he spent the evening. She often forgot people had families, blood relatives that were alive and loved them the way family was supposed to.
He finally broke eye contact and looked at his glass. Maybe she took the interrogation too far and made him uncomfortable. Her friends told her she was crass and often had a tendency to do things like this.
He took a sip of firewhiskey and set the glass back on the bar, “I don’t really have family to celebrate with, my nan was the only one I had left, and she passed away a few years back.”
She should’ve stayed in her corner across the bar because she suddenly remembered a tragic story about his parents published after the war and knew this conversation was going to get much worse.
“My parents, they,”
“You don’t have to,” she interjected, “I know,” she admitted, “And I completely forgot, that was reckless of me to say without thinking first. I am so sorry.” She lightly shook her head in disbelief.
He met her with kind eyes, “It’s quite alright, you did nothing wrong, it was a long time ago.”
He grinned and her face warmed. He might be the most kindhearted person she’s ever met; he was just so- so selfless.
“That’s actually why I send Maggie the books; I know how boring it can get there.”
It was official, he was the most kindhearted and selfless person she knew.
“Come on, Longbottom.” She said grabbing his arm and pulling him from the stool. “If we hurry, I think we can still make it.” She threw far too many galleons on the counter and shuffled toward the door gripping his arm.
“I’m so glad I ran into you, I was supposed to go out on the muggle streets for the first time with my friends tonight but I guess you’ll have to do.”
“Where are we-”
“It’s hardly a block from here, I know we can make it.” She said hurriedly, alcohol made her chatty, “Food poisoning,” she scoffed, “They can’t cook, I don’t know why they try.” She shook her head walking briskly down the sidewalk still attached to his arm.
“Make it where, Pansy?” he inquired, starting to look a little skeptical but following all the same. Thank gods he wasn’t being difficult; she was getting her adventure and he was getting his birthday.
“Sweet Agnes.” She responded.
“Who’s Ag- BLOODY HELL!”
She was wrapped in his embrace, a loud screeching noise and the horn of a muggle car penetrating their ears. He slowly released his grip and she looked to see headlights with a screaming man through the windshield.
She laughed out loud, “Those things are out at night too? I thought they were only a daytime thing.” She shrugged, grabbing his arm again, and continued to the other side of the street. He followed numbly, mouth agape.
“By ‘they’ you mean...?” he asked, still looking startled.
“Muggle cars, the thing that almost bumped us!” she said throwing her thumb back in the direction of the car. It dawned on him she had no idea how dangerous cars were or how to properly cross streets.
“Here!” she exclaimed, stopping in front of a small purple bakery shop. She threw an arm forward and jerked the door but stumbled back into him. “No, no, no,” She gasped. A young woman was coming out of the back and looking in the display cases.
She stepped back to his side, and he assumed the adventure was over, but she plunged an elbow into his side. He beveled over, sputtering, and looked to ask why in Merlin’s name she would do such a thing, but found her manically banging on the glass door and screaming to the woman for help.
A bell jingled as the young woman from behind the counter opened the door. “I’m so sorry,” Pansy started, “But my, my,” she looked to him, then back to the lady, “my friend, his blood sugar is low, and I’ve never seen him this sick before.”
“Oh, come, come!” The woman ushered them in from the night air, the pleasant scent of sweets filling their nostrils. “I was just putting away some cookies-”
“No!” Pansy cut off and the woman looked startled, she quickly changed her tone, “It’s just, I frequent here, and I know you have lovely cupcakes with much more sugar in them.”
“Of course, one moment!” she said running to the back.
She turned around smirking at him while his fist still dug into his side; she sure knew how to throw an elbow. “What on earth is happening?” he whispered, face scrunched together in confusion.
“Just look in pain, or however people with low blood sugar look, I honestly have no idea.” The woman clambered back in, and Pansy turned back to meet her.
“I went ahead and grabbed you this dozen, easier than grabbing individuals.” She said handing over the box and walking to Neville. “How about you two sit down, I don’t mind staying open a bit longer?”
Neville went to respond but Pansy jumped in before him, “That won’t be necessary! The fresh air is good for him at times like this,” she came up patting his back and turning to the door, “We will just sit out on the patio.”
“Are you sure it’s really no-”
“Thank you so much!” Pansy said in a voice that sounded nothing like her own and began pulling the door open and pushing him through it.
She went to the stoop and lowered down taking his arm with her, they both adjusted to sit comfortably, keeping a foot of space between them. They heard the sound of the shop door locking behind them and stared down at the baker’s box on her lap.
“That was stealing,” he looked to her, “and lying.”
“No, that was Slytherin.” She grinned and he mirrored it.
Their gaze returned to the box, and she opened it. A whisper of “Yes!” escaped her mouth and he smiled at the excitement in her eyes. “They’re the rainbow sprinkle ones.” She said softly, looking up to him with her own wide smile. Their eyes locked and they were frozen at that moment smiling with one another. An interrogation, near-death experience (or ‘bump’ as Pansy called it), and thievery all within the last ten minutes.
“Here,” she said breaking the spell and lifting a cupcake to his hand, he stared at it. “Well go on, Longbottom! You need it for your blood sugar after all.” At that, they laughed, and he lifted it to take a bite.
“Woah,” he said not having swallowed yet.
“Yup.” She nodded and took a bite out of her own.
They sat in silence, both eating their cupcake and looking out at the quiet street. The bakery lights turned off and the area around them was now illuminated only by a streetlamp across the way.
This sparked an idea in Pansy, and she looked to see where he was on his cupcake. He was taking his last bite, “Good,” she said pulling her wand out and grabbing another cupcake. “You have to make a wish, can’t believe I almost forgot.” She looked around, making sure the street was empty, and conjured a small candle into the frosting. She touched the tip of her wand to the end of the candle and a small flame appeared.
She looked up to him and he wore an expression she couldn’t place. The golden glow cast across his face, creating perfect shadows and brightening his eyes. He looked from her to the cupcake, then back to her. His expression was one of amazement. It was very simple magic, Pansy thought to herself, no big deal.
She nudged the cupcake closer to his face to remind him he still needed to blow it out. He let out a puff of air as a laugh and turned taking in a breath then blowing out the flame. It was dark again.
She plucked the candle from the top and handed him the cupcake, discarding the candle in the box and replacing it with another treat of her own.
They finished their final cupcakes and Neville broke the silence, softly saying, “Thank you, Pansy.”
“It was nothing.” she responded, “Oh, and Neville,” their eyes focused on one another again, “Happy Birthday.”