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He'd promised himself he wouldn’t be as much of a crybaby anymore, that he would be strong enough to compartmentalize his feelings and face the current bleak reality head on, but based on how his very first day was going so far, he didn’t like his chances.
His grandmother had been very clear about the fact that he'd become the man of the house the moment he'd turned seventeen about two months ago. In her eyes, the moment the clock had turned twelve on July 30th, he'd gone from a fragile child she had to protect from the outside world to a full grown adult. The heir of the Longbottom name, the man who would protect her and the legacy her son and his wife had left for him to continue. As such, she'd let him know that she would not be taking him to the station for his final year at Hogwarts, unlike the very concerned parents of his classmates, who were scared for their children's safety. It's not that she was unaware of the dangers that pervaded Wizarding London as of late, especially to those like Neville, who frequented Harry Potter's inner circles. In fact, his Gran was working closely with the Order and knew the intricacies of their current situation better than most of the population. She simply trusted that, if something were to happen, Neville would be strong and smart enough to deal with it on his own, or at least that's what she'd told him, and he had made the choice to believe her and take it as a compliment.
Walking through the wall and into station 9¾ had been more depressing than usual, no matter how hard Neville had tried to focus on how proud he was of himself for having gained his grandmother's trust, like he'd been fighting to do his entire life, his sense of accomplishment was overpowered by his loneliness. Life with only his gran by his side was all he'd ever known, so he usually did a good job at dodging the orphan blues, as Harry had once jokingly called it, but in days like this one, when he got to watch all the other kids cling to their worried parents and cry it all out together before getting into the train, their absence ached like an open wound. Of course, the hopeless and grim atmosphere that preponderated London lately didn't help, and neither did the gray sky above them, he supposed.
Still, no matter how dire the circumstances, Hogwarts had always been the place he felt at home the most, so with that thought in mind, he took a deep breath, shook the sadness off his body and stepped into the train, desperate to see his friends again.
Neville wouldn't say the train was empty per se — Hogwarts had way too many students for any part of it to ever be empty — but it seemed considerably less crowded than he remembered it being every previous year, due to the amount of families who had chosen not to send their kids to school this time around as a safety precaution. His friends, however caring their parents may be, never backed down in times like these, so he was confident he'd be seeing them this year.
If only he could find where they were sitting.
He was sad, but not surprised, to find out Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't on the train. It made sense for Harry to stay away from the castle now that most of the school personnel had been replaced by Death Eaters and their sympathizers, and since the other two had never left his side in the seven years they'd known him, it also checked out that they weren't on the train either, but he secretly, selfishly, had hoped their annual adventure would take place at Hogwarts, so he could be a part of it and, well… maybe he had foolishly believed, were they to leave for a mission outside the school, that they would take him with them.
"But why would they do that?" he thought to himself. "What have you done to prove yourself useful? Or brave, for that matter."
He let out a sigh and decided not to dwell on it. They usually didn't sit with Neville anyway, he'd merely wanted to say hello and catch up on recent events, but he could always write to them later and ask them what they were up to. Ginny and Luna, who he'd been sharing a car with for the last couple years, were nowhere to be found either, but he figured they were busy talking to Hagrid at the cab of the train, or following the trolley lady around to skip the line and buy snacks early, or that maybe they were changing into their uniforms in the girls bathroom. It wouldn't be the first time they missed each other, which is why they usually agreed on a time and place to meet up at the station before boarding the train, but it had skipped their minds this year, likely due to the brewing war and whatnot. He made his way towards the bathroom and decided to change into his uniform, hoping they would be done with whatever they were doing and easier to spot by the time he got out.
After getting changed, he'd spent several minutes walking by each and every car, subtly peeking through the tiny door windows and trying to spot Ginny's ginger hair or Luna's attention-catching accessories, but no dice. He was about to blame it on his own incompetence, but when the patronous he sent to Ginny flew out of the train with no hesitation, it became apparent that the two girls would be taken straight to school by their parents, like most of the other non-Slytherin students, and it simply hadn't occurred to them to let him know beforehand.
The lonely feeling he'd tried to brush off back at the station had now settled in his chest, burning a hole in his heart that he had no idea how to fill. He stood in the hall for a moment, feeling lost and foolish, like a First Year muggle-born on his first trip to Hogwarts.
Trevor let out a croak from the comfortable nook in his pocket, reminding him of his presence. He tried to ignore the way the train was swaying, making his nausea worse, and instead chose to focus on his pet's weight slightly pulling the right side of his robes, his warmth touching the side of his thigh through the fabric. He took a deep breath, then another, and the ambient sound of the train went from overwhelming and nonsensical to comforting from one minute to the next. The hushed chatter of the other students coming from all the cars became a comforting hum, a reminder that he was not actually alone, or lost, or floating aimlessly in space, but just standing in a train that he'd been on several times before.
All he had to do was sit and watch the beautiful Scottish landscape he'd come to know and love through the window. The knowledge that he was getting closer and closer to his beloved school always made his worries fade away.
The two cars on the very middle of the train were always the least desired, as they were the most bumpy and further away from the bathrooms, so he headed straight there, where his chances of finding an empty car were higher.
An empty car he didn't find, but one of them had only one person in them. Despite his reputation, Neville had always been quite extroverted, so the idea of meeting someone new or getting to know someone he'd already met in passing better during this trip was not as awful or draining to him as most people would probably find it. So, you see, the problem was not that someone was sitting there, the problem was who that person was.
Neville despised the notion of hating people in general, but if he had to admit to disliking someone, Pansy Parkinson would be the first person to come to mind. He was surprised to find her alone, staring melancholically through the window, as he was used to seeing her clinging to Malfoy's side, with her nose up in the air, proud of being followed around by his little crew of wannabe Death Eaters. Yet there she was, alone and quiet. The latter was the most surprising, she was usually impossible to shut up. She liked to shout catty insults at him and his friends as she walked by, to gossip about who was snogging who in the back of the classes she didn't like and to raise her hand and give long-winded answers in the ones she did like, all with a shit-eating grin on her consistently re-glossed lips.
The girl in front of him couldn't be further from that version of Pansy that he knew. She looked sad and impossibly small against the window. Her eyes were bloodshot red, but if she cried, he would be none the wiser, as he suspected Pansy was the most proficient witch in all of Europe regarding make-up spells, so her mascara and eyeliner looked as intact as always.
Before Neville had a chance to turn around and leave, though he wouldn't know where else to go, Pansy's eagle eyes found him. He surprised himself by feeling relieved at the sight of her defensiveness, but really, even if she was mean to him from time to time, he didn't enjoy seeing other people be sad. Besides, in times like these, they weren't really enemies. Hogwarts house based rivalries seemed so insignificant and stupid in the face of much greater evil. Right now, who was Pansy Parkinson to him other than yet another teenage girl in the middle of a war, powerless to stop the murder of her peers? They were on the same team, even if neither of them were willing to say it out loud or even ponder it for too long.
"What do you want?" she said, her tone cutting and aggressive as always. She sat up straighter on her seat, and he was heartbroken to see her trembling hand subtly reach for her wand.
"Uh—" He raised both of his hands slowly, trying to appear calm, even though his heart was pounding inside his chest. There was nothing stopping her from hexing the lights out of him, out of fear or hatred, the reason didn't really matter. "The other cars were full, I was just looking for a place to sit."
Her eyebrows shot up to her forehead, and though she let out a chuckle, she did not seem to relax the tiniest bit at Neville's response. "You'll have to make up a better excuse than that, Longbottom. The train is hardly at full capacity this year, now, is it?"
Neville pulled a face, glancing to the other cars behind him before turning towards her again. "And why do you think that is?"
Pansy opened her mouth to say something undoubtedly sarcastic or cutting, or at least that's what Neville gathered solely from the amused expression on her face, the one he was used to being on the other end of, but it dropped as soon as it appeared and was promptly replaced by the same sad and cagey looking face he'd been welcomed by a minute ago.
She let out a sigh and folded her arms over her chest, seeming to relax merely a fraction now that she knew something that put her at an advantage. "So, in other words, none of your friends are here."
He dropped his hands, relieved to see she was no longer reaching for her wand, and offered her a nod. "And I don't particularly fancy sitting with prepubescent Second Years today."
Pansy snorted, seeming a bit taken aback by his perhaps a bit too honest comment. "And I'm a better option?"
"Hey, if someone's gonna bully me, I'd rather leave it to the experts."
She leaned her head back against the seat, the corners of her lips curving into the ghost of a smile. "My father used to say: better the devil you know than the devil you don't."
Neville couldn't help but scoff, both at the saying and at the mention of Pablo Parkinson. "Yeah, bet he knows quite a lot about devils."
The glare Pansy sent his way felt like a poisonous dagger that froze the blood running through his veins, making a chill run down his spine.
"What would you know about my father, Longbottom?" she asked, words coming out of her mouth so quick after Neville's quip that he wondered if it had been a knee-jerk response, one of those cutting jabs that she had pre-loaded on the tip of her tongue in case of emergencies. "You don't even know much about your own."
Any other day, Neville would've taken that as an unforgivable offense, an attack to his honor and his family name that could not be let slide, but today, with his friends gone to a reckless mission to try and win the same war he'd lost his father to seventeen years before, he was feeling the weight of his absence too much to care about defending him.
Instead, he let out a sigh and murmured under his breath. "No, I do not."
Later, the guilt would take over the bitterness and the loneliness, but at least that was something he was used to carrying with him on a day-to-day basis.
The silence that followed was awkward, but expected. It happened every time Neville reminded someone that his parents were, indeed, human beings with personalities and lives that had been taken away from them and their family through horrific torture, and not just the abstract concept of "lack of parents" that people's minds usually created so as not to deal with the emotional implications of it.
He watched that realization hit her in real time, the expression on her face switching from defensiveness and mockery to horrified shame.
It was never as satisfying as he wished it would be.
"I'm sorry, that was—"
Neville raised a hand and shook his head to stop her from talking. There was a time when he would've killed to hear Pansy Parkinson beg for his forgiveness, but that time was long gone. There were bigger fish to fry, and by now, he was sick and tired of people feeling sorry for him.
"You didn't say anything that wasn't true," he pointed out with a shrug. "Besides, I'd hate for my trauma to stifle the creativity of your insults. They're quite funny."
Pansy stared at him for a moment, scanning his face for any signs that he might be lying and secretly upset, but Neville had years of training in the art of hiding his pain so people wouldn't have to confront it and, this time around, he had nothing to hide.
"Mind if I sit down? As much as I'd love to stand here and let you glare at me for the next few hours, I don't think Trevor likes all the bouncing around I'm doing."
Her eyes lit up, and though he couldn't pinpoint quite why, he wasn't naive enough to believe she was happy to welcome him into the car. "I'll allow it," she said, gesturing at the seat across from her. "But only under the condition that you let me pet him."
Neville raised his eyebrows, but accepted her offer before she could regret it and kick him out. He closed the door behind him and sat across from her, reaching into his pocket to grab Trevor, a little reluctant to hand him over.
He squinted at her. "And you won't hurt him?"
Pansy frowned, looking deeply offended. "Don't insult me, Longbottom. You've seen me excel at Care of Magical Creatures for three years in a row now, you know I'm good with animals."
Unfortunately for his stubborn urge to have something he could hold over her, as usual, Pansy had been painfully honest. He remembered being shocked the first time he'd seen the gentleness with which she'd handled the wide-range of strange, loud and often disgusting creatures Hagrid brought for them to learn about. She'd refused to let go of her assigned diricawl after spending the entire lecture cuddling it and gently scratching under its colorful feathers, sobbed inconsolably at the sight of a newborn unicorn that still had its golden-colored fur, and had even tried to adopt a doxy (though the school staff had held an intervention to take it away from her, due to its dangerous nature).
It was only because he knew her love for magical creatures to be true that he reluctantly handed his beloved pet over. At least he was offered some relief after seeing the excited smile that took spread across her lips when Trevor snuggled into her cupping hands. She didn't seem at all bothered by his cold and slimy nature.
"Besides, the poor thing didn't choose his owner. He's not to blame," she said, shooting him a teasing glance before bringing her eyes back down at Trevor, a single finger petting the top of his head with the utmost tenderness. "I'm sure if he was given a second chance, he'd choose better."
Neville simply rolled his eyes, refusing to fall for her bait. Her words didn't have a bite to them, so there was no point in biting back. "Y'know, it's not usual for girls to find toads this cute."
Pansy glared at him, bringing Trevor closer to her chest. He was about to warn her that he had hopped out of Neville's hands and tried to escape every single time he'd tried to cuddle him like that, but to his surprise, Trevor showed no signs of discontent. "On the other hand, it's regrettably usual for a boy to make disgusting generalizations about girls, so you're the only surprised one here."
He winced, feeling his cheeks heat up with shame. "I deserved that one," he admitted, watching her continue to pet Trevor. The bastard seemed so comfortable in her arms, no movement or signs of panic peeing yet, something Neville could only dream to get from him. "Do you have plans to become a Magizoologist after school, then?"
Pansy replied calmly, without missing a beat or looking up from his toad. "No, I'm getting married."
"So? I'm pretty sure that doesn't disqualify you for a job."
"That will be my job."
"What? Being Malfoy's silently pretty wife?"
Neville frowned, feeling the anger that usually made an appearance whenever those blood-purist assholes she liked to spend time with made a disgusting comment about the women around them bubbling up inside his chest, all the way up his throat, burning everything in its path. Regardless of how he felt about her, she had undeniable talent and remarkable intelligence. Thinking about her potential being wasted on planning Malfoy's vainglorious soirées made him sick to his stomach.
"Don't act like you don't know how pureblood marriages work, Longbottom. Just because your family chooses not to engage with our traditions, it doesn't make them any less suitable for others."
"And, is it?" he asked, trying and failing to meet her eye, which she kept stubbornly on Trevor as she watched his throat expand and deflate rhythmically. "Suitable for you?"
Pansy took a deep breath, lifted her chin up a little, made a painfully obvious effort to look proud. "I will be an excellent wife."
"That's not what I asked, though."
This time, she took a second to respond, and before she did, she finally met his eyes. "I know what you asked," she admitted. Her tone had softened and so had the look in her eyes. There was something vulnerable there that he hadn't expected for her to expose to him so easily. What hurt the most, though, was the lack of anger or distress in her eyes. That, he would understand, empathize with, but that's not what he found. The only emotion waiting for him in her eyes was resignation, an emotion that didn't suit the Pansy Parkinson he knew in the slightest.
It was gone and replaced by her usual mocking expression in a blink, before he could poke at it, but that was how conversations with Pansy usually went. She was relentless, for better or worse. He always walked away feeling breathless and ruminating on all the things he wasn't quick, or smart, or brave enough to say to her.
In other words, she was exactly the kind of girl Neville lost his power of speech around, and if he had fantasized about her when the lights were off before, only to feel like shit about her questionable morals afterwards… well, that was his prerogative.
"I also heard you call me pretty."
"You are," he said, sounding perhaps a bit more confident than he felt. He saw no point in denying something that, to him, was clear as day, even if it gave her a little ego boost she probably didn't deserve.
Pansy seemed taken aback by his honesty, going by the way she blinked at him. "Salazar, what did they feed you over the summer, Longbottom?" she asked, trying to hide the redness of her cheeks by looking back down at Trevor, who was only now starting to get a little antsy, probably due to the fact that he hadn't eaten yet that day. "You came back looking and sounding like one of those Durmstrang boys."
Neville pulled a face and started looking for Trevor's food inside his book bag. "I'd rather you kept calling me a fat crybaby."
"Not a fan of Durmstrang boys?"
"Not a fan of people making assumptions about me based on the way my body looks."
He opened the container of worms he'd brought for Trevor and, once again, Pansy took him by surprise by grabbing a pinch of them and offering them to his toad before he even got the chance to ask her to hand him back so he could feed him.
"What are people supposed to base their assumptions on, then?"
"Nothing." He frowned. "No one should assume anything about anyone they don't know."
Pansy gave him a look of something between amusement and disbelief. "Now, I know you Gryffindors are big moralists, especially those in your little… army, but even you must know that making assumptions is human nature."
"The worst of it."
She shrugged. "I think it's just survival instincts."
Neville snorted, watching Pansy grab a couple more worms to feed Trevor. Usually, he'd say something against it, as he'd had enough, but he had a feeling she wouldn't be happy about denying him a treat. "I doubt treating people differently depending on if they're fit or ugly helps anyone survive."
"It might not help you," she said, smiling faintly when Trevor swallowed all three of the worms between her fingers in one big gulp. "It certainly helps me. I need to marry well to survive."
"So, what, you're marrying Malfoy because he's… fit?"
He couldn't help but feel a little bummed out about this. It was true that Pansy was way out of his league, always had been, and even if he wasn't, realistically, he doubted they'd be compatible. However, to think Pansy had chosen Draco because of his looks, when he and Neville were literal opposites in every possible way, it was a bit disappointing. He didn't think Draco was ugly, by any means, but he'd always been told girls liked boys who were a bit more masculine and rugged. But who was he to judge Pansy's taste in men?
Why did he care so much about Pansy's taste in men?
"Wow," she said with a chuckle. "Thank Merlin he's not here right now. He would've taken one look at your face and hexed you into the sun."
"I didn't say anything!"
"You didn't have to! It's so obvious!" She laughed some more, and Neville had to admit he felt a bit proud of having made her laugh. He wanted to make her laugh again. She looked so soft and pretty when she wasn't scowling or glaring at him. "But to answer your question, no. That's only part of it, I suppose."
"So you're actually in love with him," he blurted out before he could catch himself, but he'd never been good at hiding his emotions and opinions.
"You sound surprised," she noted, seeming a little surprised herself. "We've been dating on and off for years."
"I thought you had to, since you're betrothed."
Pansy let out a sigh and averted her gaze, looking out the window with the same sadness she was wearing when he'd found her. "That's probably the main reason why the bastard does it."
Neville's eyebrows raised up to his hairline. He never understood how guys could be so cruel or indifferent when a girl showed interest in them, but the idea of Malfoy thinking he was too good for Pansy was particularly irritating. Anyone who could spend more than a few seconds in his presence should be entitled to financial compensation, but especially a girl like Pansy, who despite her cruelty towards Neville and his friends, always seemed to be the sweetest and most attentive girlfriend towards Draco, even when he was being a twat.
"You don't think he likes you back?"
"I never said I liked him," she argued, placing Trevor gently on her lap, but keeping her hands near him in case he tried to jump off. "I love him. Those are two very different things."
"So… you're marrying him for his money?"
"Partly," she said with a shrug that felt too casual for such a heavy admission. "But mainly for protection."
Neville couldn't help but scoff. "Malfoy? Protect you?" he asked, hoping it was some kind of joke, but she seemed clueless as to what his questions were implying. "He couldn't win a duel against his own reflection if he tried!"
He didn't miss the smile that threatened to pull at the corner of her lips. "He doesn't need magic to have the kind of power required to keep me and our future family safe."
"Funny," he said, laying back against his seat with a smirk. "I thought you lot were all about magic being a non-negotiable requirement."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "You can have it and only use it for more… civilized things."
"So, what, it's a status thing?"
"If you want to put it that way."
Neville let out an incredulous laugh. "Your ultimate dream is to be the next Lady Malfoy?"
"My goal", she corrected with a defensive glare that did nothing more than amuse him further, "is to survive this war."
Despite the heartbreak he felt for her in that moment, he couldn't help but think that this was a great opportunity to get information out of her. He doubted she knew much about Voldemort's inner circles and their movements, but she was as close as he could get to Malfoy without talking directly to him.
He stared at her for a moment, contemplating how to go about this. He'd never been good at subtlety or persuasion. "Why are you so sure he's gonna win?"
"I'm not," she admitted. "But I've seen what they can do, the things they're willing to sacrifice for their cause, how soulless they can be…" She turned to look at the moving landscape on the other side of her window once again, this time with an expression on her face that Neville couldn't read. "With Potter hiding like the little bitch he is and Dumbledore six feet under, right now, I like their chances better."
Neville shook his head slowly, trying to process what she was saying. She was so matter-of-fact and emotionless about something that, to him, had been deeply emotional and personal his entire life. It was hard not to get angry at her, to grab her by the shoulders and try to shake her until she saw reason, but he knew that was never an effective way to make people understand they were in the wrong.
"So, what, if Harry comes back tomorrow and tells you he has the perfect plan to defeat him, you'll come running to our side with your tail between your legs?"
Pansy scrunched her nose, like the thought of doing that alone disgusted her, then looked down at Trevor, who seemed perfectly content staying at the spot he'd been placed on her lap. "It's more complicated than that. My family would kill me."
"But you would, if you could?" he asked, leaning forward towards her, with more hope in his heart than he dared to admit. His feelings for the Slytherin girl aside, they needed as many allies as they could get, and Neville had seen the wonders of what Pansy can do with her wand and a little bit of anger. "You don't actually believe in what they're trying to impose?"
"I believe in a lot of things that would get both sides angry with me," she admitted, letting Trevor suck at her index finger, probably mistaking it for a worm. "It's never been as black and white to me as it clearly is for you. But if I could choose freely…" She took a deep breath, then continued her line of thought in a heavy sigh. "I suppose the least murderous side would be my choice, yes."
Neville took a moment to think, gears turning in his brain a million miles an hour. If he played his cards right, he could get Pansy in their team, which could be a game changer not only because of Pansy's skills, but also because she could have important information they could benefit from, and besides, as nasty as she could be from time to time, she deserved to be safe and free of any punishment and expectation.
It was because of that, and no other selfish reasons, that he made the offer he did.
"What if we could ensure your safety?" he asked, startling her, since he'd gone a long while without speaking.
"You can't," she answered, more certain of it than he'd ever seen anyone be of anything.
"But if we could," he insisted. "If I could guarantee your safety, both physical and financial, would you join us?"
Pansy looked up and down at him, no doubt confused about what Neville was suddenly so intent on doing. "And how would you do that?"
Neville averted his gaze, swallowed, then started fidgeting with the worn-down seam that connected the back of his seat and the one next to it. "Is your marriage arrangement with Malfoy the only thing tying you to them?"
"…yes," he heard her respond, voice filled with understandable suspicion and hesitation. "Theoretically. There's also my parents, but they just want what's best for me." A deep, shuddering breath. "Or for themselves," she murmured quietly.
"So if you were to marry somebody else, someone…" He couldn't help but roll his eyes at what he was about to say, but he needed to play by her rules, just this once. "Someone of equal value and status, who could offer you a good life." He frowned to himself. "A better life," he corrected. "Would you be free to do as you please? To join us?"
She gasped dramatically, making Neville turn to face her once more, only to find she had placed a hand on her chest, looking theatrically appalled. "Longbottom," she said, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Are you proposing?"
He felt his ears warm up alarmingly quick, what he was about to do and how it sounded only then downing on him. "I'm… propositioning," he corrected. "Aren't you Slytherins all about deals for convenience and such?"
Pansy seemed to be growing more and more amused with every one of Neville's words. "I suppose."
"Right. Well, I'll make you a deal, but you need to borrow some Gryffindor courage and seriously consider it."
The amusement dropped from her face, probably due to the fact that Neville didn't seem to be joking after all. "We'll see about that after you tell me what the deal is," she said, staring at him warily.
Neville took a deep breath, dread settling in the pit of his stomach at the notion of having to essentially sell himself to her. "I'm pureblood, heir of one of the Sacred 28. By marrying me, if things go wrong and they win, you'll still be safe, and if we win, you won't go down with their ship."
"In exchange for…?"
"Having you as an ally to our side and your safety," he responded without missing a beat.
Pansy squinted at him. "And having your way with me."
Neville rubbed his face, at this point not even trying to hide how flustered he was. Surely, she knew how perverted that sounded. He couldn't be blamed for his reaction (or the sudden tightness of his trousers).
"Pansy, I'm not doing this to take advantage of you."
"Why?" she asked, visibly confused by his offer. "I've been cruel to you for years, it would be the perfect revenge."
Neville frowned, appalled by what she was implying. "Only a seriously mentally disturbed person would use playground bullying, or any reason for that matter, as an excuse to take advantage of you like that. I'm sorry if it's happened to you before, I really am, but that goes against everything I believe in."
Pansy was silent for a minute, her eyes inspecting his face for any signs of deception or sarcasm. Neville did his best to keep a straight face, hoping she could see the true nature of his intentions on it.
When she spoke again, her tone was quiet. "What do you believe in?"
Neville looked down at his toad, wondering how could someone be so gentle and caring with some creatures, yet so cruel with others, and be naturally exceptional at both. "Equality," he said, thinking of how unfair it was that girls like Pansy had to marry strategically to survive, or how he had to make it alone to the platform because his parents had been taken away from him. "Unconditional kindness." He rested his head against the window, feeling warmth spread inside his chest at the realization that he was close to Hogwarts, close to home. "Fairness."
"So noble," she teased, though there was a look in her eye that didn't match her tone. Something serious, sober, maybe with a hint of fear. "But are you noble enough to produce heirs with a Parkinson?"
"You wouldn't be forced to produce an heir, Pansy. You know my family doesn't believe in that bullshit." He closed his eyes, picturing what it would be like to break the news to his friends and family. "I mean, my Gran might have something to say about it, but only because she wants more grandkids." He snorted. "She doesn't get to decide for me or my wife."
"What about the prenup?" she asked, the fact that she seemed to be actually considering his offer making him open his eyes again. "My parents would never agree to pay you the dowry. I'm not too sure they haven't sent it to the Malfoys already. I can't offer you a single galleon."
Neville smiled in spite of himself. "Parkinson, I'm hardly in need of money. You know your pureblood history, yes? My family—"
"I know how much money you have," she admitted with a wince, fidgeting awkwardly with the hem of her skirt. "Which is why I don't understand—" She let out a frustrated sigh. "I mean, you could marry much better."
"I don't care for status either." He shrugged. "When the war is over, I plan to become a herbologist. What would political power do for me? Aside from getting me invited to pretentious soirées, that is, and I don't even know how to dance."
"We'll have to change that, if you plan to marry me. I happen to enjoy pretentious soirées quite a lot."
Neville practically jumped, sitting up straight with a smile on his face. "So you accept?"
"Hold your horses, Longbottom." She raised a hand up at him. "I don't like how one-sided this is."
"It's supposed to be one-sided," he argued. "I promise, I'm just trying to help you."
"And to get me on your side."
He offered her a sheepish smile. "Only because I know you're worth the hassle. Been on the other side of your hexes and curses many a time."
"And kicked your ass in pretty much every class," she teased.
"That too," he admitted. "And according to you, we Gryffindors all have—" He clicked his tongue in frustration. "What was it? Something about boggarts…"
"Enough space in your empty heads to start breeding boggarts and selling them for a living," she recited from memory, a smirk taking over her lips.
"Brutal." He chuckled, appreciating the artistry behind her insult now that he wasn't in the heat of the moment, as it often happened. "We need all the help we can get."
Pansy stared at him for a moment, seeming lost in thought as she pet Trevor's slimy head. The wait was nerve-wracking, but something in him was confident he was closer to convincing her than he'd originally thought he would get.
What would a life with Pansy Parkinson look like?
His parents had married for love, but he had no idea what their day-to-day life used to be like. His grandmother had told him all about the way his dad used to look at his mum, all the sacrifices his mum had made for his dad, but that didn't tell him much about what their life was like.
He'd had roommates for the past six years, but they were all boys. He doubted sharing a bedroom with a girl was anything similar. Besides, Hogwarts pretty much took care of everything for them.
He'd lived with his grandmother all his life, but if he was to take a wife, surely the house would change significantly. It would be entirely up to her, not because of gender roles, but because he didn't care enough to have an opinion about most things. Would she like that or would she expect him to weigh in on that sort of thing?
Would their marriage imply they were… together together? Would she have his last name without letting him kiss her? Did he want to kiss her? Would she mind if he did?
"You won't like my conditions," she eventually said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
In that moment, all he could think was that he'd do literally anything to get her to agree, as scary as that realization was. "Tell me."
"An unbreakable vow," she blurted out before he had even finished saying the second word. She must have seen how high his eyebrows had shot up, because she rushed to explain herself. "You can choose the mediator, if you'd like, but I need you to promise that you'll make sure I'm safe, no matter what happens."
Neville sighed, not really offended about her lack of trust, but a little heartbroken that she felt like she needed to ask for this. "Pansy—"
"Unbreakable vow. It's a deal-breaker." She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, clearly trying to look more confident than she felt. "You do that and I'll marry you, and as you wife, I'll be loyal to your cause. I won't just stand by your side, I'll help you and Potter as much as I can. I'll make sure to do everything in my power to help him win. We can make it one of the clauses of the vow, that way we can't betray each other."
His eyes softened, hating himself for being yet another person that made her have to pretend to be strong and unafraid. "I don't need an unbreakable vow to trust you on this."
"You should," she responded with a frown. "You don't know anything about me, just like I know nothing about you."
Neville shook his head, a fond and slightly amused smile on his lips. "We know more about each other than you think, Parkinson."
"Unbreakable vow," she insisted, this time offering her toad-slime covered hand for a handshake. "Deal?"
He looked into her eyes once more, not knowing if this was the best decision he'd ever made or his worst mistake yet. Either way, he was happy to be dragged along by her, which is why he shook her hand and said: "Deal."
And as the Hogwarts Express approached its final station, he realized he'd gotten into that train without any friends or family, but he was getting off with his future wife.