The Right by Parks and Fiction, Chapter 25 Pansy perked up the
moment she heard the bell from the front of the shop.
It had been a slow day in an already slow week.
Hopefully business would pick up soon with Valentine's Day
approaching. She herself was planning a
rather fun surprise in all red for that evening.
Apparently Draco had taken it upon himself to remind Neville
to make dinner reservations before all good restaurants
bucked up, and he'd managed to get one at her favorite.
She was certain that was Draco's doing as well, but she'd take
any excuse to eat there. Pansy froze when the two men
emptered through the door. Not customers, after all.
Daphne, ever the professional, smiled.
Good afternoon, she said. What can we help you with today?
Ivan smirked at Pansy, revealing his crooked, yellowy teeth in
all their glory. We are here for hair.
Pansy squeezed Daphne's hand underneath the counter.
We're closing early. She said, voice low enough to
hide from Ivan and the solicitor.
Go straight to Hogwarts and tell Neville that Ivan's here.
But she squeezed again. Greenhouse one now.
Daphne, thank Merlin, didn't hesitate.
Dropping Pansy's hand, she grabbed her wand and apparated
on the spot. Pansy turned to Ivan and
Lawrence. Daphne couldn't apparate past
the gates, so she'd have to run to the greenhouses, and then
Neville would have to run off the grounds to be able to
apparate to Diagon. It would take at least 10
minutes before help arrived. She needed to stall.
Drawing herself to her full height, she stared down the two
men. What are you doing here?
Ivan strolled over to the shelves, looking at the
decorations and merchandise on display.
Women have no place in business, he said.
That fool you pretend to marry better back every Knut you've
wasted of my money. Her stomach clenched.
Have they found out about the farce?
How? It's his money now, as you well
know, she said. He grinned.
The Ville see. She turned to Lawrence.
What is the meaning of this? She demanded.
I'm married, He has no role in my life anymore.
Your marriage is not finalized until the rat has been
completed. Fuck.
The marriage verification is supposed to happen on our one
year anniversary. It was too soon, they still had
time. It was in the will.
Neville had a full year. Lawrence smiled as if she'd just
confirmed what he'd already expected.
Your guardian can request verifications as long as he
pleases up to that time. He said.
If the right has been completed, I will verify the marriage
today. If not, your guardian maintains
his legal rights. Fuck.
She glared at him. I'm not discussing any of this
until my husband is present. Ivan smiled.
Good thing you have sent for him.
A solicitor and someone who looked like Ivan standing in her
closed early shop wasn't good optics for her business.
Why don't we go upstairs and wait for him?
The 2nd floor was mostly an empty studio.
It had been a giant mess when she was dealing with the rush of
Christmas orders, but she'd organised and put everything
away in the quiet weeks that followed.
It was the place both of them were least likely to cause her
trouble. The folders and notebooks where
she kept her designs were kept elsewhere, as were her fabrics
and mannequins. Thanks to Theo and Hermione's
hyper vigilance, even the steps were awarded so she would know
if they tried to go back into the shop or come upstairs.
She directed the two men to sit and wait on chairs around one of
the tables while she went into Daphne and Astoria's flat to
prepare tea. Hopefully it would give Neville
enough time to get to her. When she finally heard the crack
of apparition and felt someone who had access slip through the
wards, she floated the tea tray down to the second floor.
Neville burst into the room moments after she set it down.
What's going on? He demanded, panting and flushed
from rushing there. Lawrence smiled at him, clearly
at ease. Miss Parkinson's guardian
requested a marriage verification.
He sat forward to help himself to a cup of tea.
Missus Longbottom. Neville snapped.
Ivan grinned. Perhaps.
Neville moved to stand between her and the other two men.
Like the coward she was, she led him.
She is my wife. The fierce, protective
possession in his tone sent warmth coiling through her and
she forced herself to remember it was just a farce.
So long as the right has been completed.
Lawrence said. I have an entire year to
complete the right. Neville snapped.
The two men exchanged a look. Ivan.
Gleeful. Lawrence calculating.
I take it by your refusal that you have not completed the
right? Lawrence asked.
I want him declared impotent. Ivan said, his voice triumphant.
I have a year. Neville repeated.
I am not required to use the Parkinson family right.
My family rights have taken time to obtain and set up.
Lawrence sipped his tea. The year is mostly a formality,
Mr. Longbottom, he said. It has been eight months and yet
it is there. Neville snapped.
I will not hesitate to involve my own solicitor or the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement if you attempt to
make things difficult for us. Ivan shoved himself to his feet.
You dare threaten Mr. Longbottom is correct.
Lawrence said. He does have a full year, no
need to involve his Ministry friends.
That better have been a fucking bluff.
Lawrence gave him a sharp look. I believe it is to everyone in
this room's benefit for this to stay between us.
Neville straitened. I will see you on our first
anniversary and not before. Mr. Dimitrov is well within his
rights to demand an examination at any point.
Neither of you are allowed to drop in unannounced on Pansy
again. He snapped.
Lawrence smile turned patronising.
Mr. Longbottom, the Aura office already watches this shop.
Neville said. It would not be difficult to
give them your pictures. Lawrence eyed Neville as if
seeing him as an equal opponent for the first time.
Pansy didn't trust the glimmer in his gaze.
You will be notified as soon as the right is completed.
Neville said. Until then, neither of you is
allowed near Pansy without me. Again, Mr. Duritov is entitled
to check on his ward. Then he can do so as my time
allows and under my supervision. Neville spat.
You drop in unannounced on Pansy again and I will not hesitate to
get my solicitor and the DMLE involved.
Lawrence's mouth curled into a half smile.
I think we all want to avoid the DMLE, Mr. Longbottom.
Pansy's heart clenched at the threat to Neville.
The magic to perform the right was a one way ticket to Azkaban.
Lawrence and Ivan enforcing it was just as bad, and she
couldn't see either man willing to risk a prison sentence.
But if they so much as fucking tried, she would down a whole
bottle of Veritas serum and testify before the Wizengomat
every secret she ever kept if it would keep Neville safe.
Now get out. Neville spat.
Not until we've had a chance to perform an examination.
Lawrence said. I've already told you the right
hasn't been completed and we cannot take your word for it.
Lawrence said, standing and hefting his wand.
Missus Longbottom, please present yourself.
Fucking bastard. They were doing this to
humiliate her. There was nothing for her to do.
There had never been anything for her to do.
She stepped around Neville and stood as Lawrence cast the
familiar spell. She stared at the ground rather
than Ivan's gloating face as the familiar gold ball of light
appeared. Tears stung in our eyes, but she
refused to let them fall. Parkinson's didn't cry.
Get the fuck out. Neville said.
Now words were exchanged. She didn't bother to listen.
More men making decisions about her and her life.
Neville followed them downstairs.
She sunk into a chair as she heard the door slam.
A few moments later, the hairs on the back of her neck rose as
the magic of the wards fell over the shop.
The next thing she knew, dirt streaked hands were reaching out
to grasp hers. He obviously had rushed over
without stopping to wash, but she still frowned.
You don't wear your gloves? Had she messed up on the size
somehow? Was he just being polite and
didn't actually like them? Every day, he said.
But only when the plant is dangerous enough to require
them. She wrinkled her nose.
You touch dirt with your bare hands?
Yeah, he said. Best way to get a feel of the
soil. Disgusting.
He squeezed her hands. Pansy, I need you to listen.
Her gaze flicked up from where he was getting her hands and
dress filthy. I'm going to do as much research
on your family genealogy as I can.
He said. I, I have an idea, but I need
you to listen. That didn't bode well.
He took her silences acquiescence.
Obviously there's been a lot of intermarrying between your
family and the rest of the Sacred 28 and other Pure blood
families. Only purebloods.
Her family went to Europe. If there wasn't an acceptable
match available in Britain, it was looked down upon by some of
the other pureblood elite, but at least they weren't marrying
first cousins like the Blacks or the Strangers.
Since the first time a Parkinson woman married into the Malfoy
family, a Malfoy woman has never married a Parkinson man.
She blinked. That was odd, between that and
what your aunt told you about the Malfoy's and how hard she
pushed you to secure a marriage to Draco.
I think maybe. She stood up from the chair,
walking past him to stare out the window.
You think they know about the right and pass on the
information to their heirs? As fiercely protective as Malfoy
men were over their wives, she couldn't imagine how they would
feel about their daughters. Her family right was a closely
guarded secret, one that anyone who knew of it, whether a
Parkinson by birth or someone who married 1, was forbidden
from revealing. For Wizards who married
Parkinson women, telling anyone about the right was an immediate
cause for forfeit of her dowry. Even the families wealthy enough
to not be concerned about such a loss wouldn't risk it.
From her experience, most pure blood men would salivate over
that type of control over their wives.
Admitting to magical control, however, was a sign of weakness,
so the secret remained so. But if a Parkinson's woman
married into the Malfoy family, that man would have learned
about the right. Someone who had enough money to
not be concerned about risking the dowry clause.
Someone who was horrified enough about it to make sure that none
of his female descendants ever went through the same thing.
If they were concerned enough about that, you think they might
have an alternative right? He was still kneeling next to
the chair she'd been sitting in. His throat bobbed.
I want to ask Drake. Or to look over his family
marriage rights. She scoffed, the tendril of hope
puffing out as quickly as it had come.
You have no idea how sacred those are.
She said. Even if he is ready to burn his
entire family legacy to the ground, I doubt he'll let anyone
near those for you. He would.
Her heart clenched. Neville had no idea what he was
asking. Still, Hermione had said Draco
wanted her to stand up with him at their wedding.
When he'd remembered Neville was a member of the Sacred 28 and
became suspicious about their marriage, he'd promised to do
anything for her. I won't tell them anything
specific Neville said, or do anything else to betray your
trust to him. But if I tell him you need his
help, that his family marriage rights might.
All right. She turned back to the window.
What? Neville asked, breathless.
There were a few shoppers out, only the apothecary looked
somewhat busy, but even that was just a few people getting in and
out with exactly what they needed.
It was too cold to browse or plan a long trip.
You can ask him. She said.
Whatever good it would do her, she couldn't, wouldn't let her
get her hopes up. But she couldn't keep arguing
about it either. Neville scrambled up and made
his way over to her. She didn't meet his gaze, still
staring at the street below her. If he needed to exhaust every
last possible idea he could come up with until the night before
their anniversary, she'd let him.
Ah, might. We might need some help.
He said. If we can get access to the
Manor. The Hermione, the woman who
planned a successful theft of Gringotts, was probably their
only hope for getting in and out of Malfoy Manor unnoticed.
Whatever you think, she said, I trust you.
Thank you. Out of the corner of her eye,
she saw him start to reach for her, but then his hand fell back
to his side again. I'm going to find a way, Pansy,
he said. I promise, even if we have to do
the park in someone, I won't let them.
She didn't need more empty platitudes, He'd promised, and
she was going to hold him to it. She didn't have any other
choice. I know.
He let out a long breath. Pansy.
His voice trailed off, but it wasn't like there was anything
left to say. Their situation was as fucked up
as it had ever been. You got it put together?
Pansy glanced at him, at the sudden change in his tone, and
then over to her shoulder where he was staring.
The ribbon holder he got on her for Christmas was sitting on one
of the shelves filled with all the shades of green that
reminded her a spring. She hadn't been able to resist
adding a few light shades of pink and white in the Rose as
well. Apparently the thing arrived in
pieces and part of the experience was assembling it.
Neither one of them had been remotely able to manage it.
If they'd been married for real, Pansy was certain the experience
would have ended in their divorce.
Sort of, she said. I hired Denis Creevy to do it.
He acted rather insulted about the whole matter, grumbling his
thoughts on Swedish engineering, which apparently weren't high.
She hadn't realised it was a Swedish invention, although that
explained why the instructions were only drawings.
Penelope must have suggested a high end brand that Dennis was
snobbish about because it wasn't British.
I don't know how muggles do it. Neville said, his voice filled
with a tint of awe. Dennis hadn't used magic except
for a quick Reparo on the pieces that she and Neville had broken.
Daphne and Astoria had both sat and watched him put it together
with her. As fascinated as she was, it was
yet another thing that Dennis apparently found insulting and
LED to a rant about all the other things he was better at
doing than assembling mass produced furniture.
She frowned. Where is Daphne?
Oh shite. She glanced up.
Neville looked horrified. I left her in charge of a class
full of second years. A snort escaped her.
Before she could stop it. Neville pulled out his watch.
Gryffindor slither in 3rd year start in 10 minutes.
Laughter bubbled up. You better run.
He started to turn and then paused.
His eyes roamed over her face. You walk here.
She nodded. He kissed her on the cheek and
then sprinted down the stairs. Halfway down, he must have
remembered he could apparate and disapparated with a crack.
Despite the afternoon, she couldn't help her smirk as she
continued watching the street below.
Hermione. Neville was not an unfamiliar
sight in her and Draco's home. The nervous energy she didn't
think she'd seen since 5th year Potions, however, was.
She passed him a cup of tea. Thanks.
Neville forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes next to
her. Draco had hardly taken his eyes
off Neville since he'd arrived through the flu.
On the other hand, Harry, who was clinking his cup repeatedly
as he stirred sugar into his tea, hadn't looked at Neville
once. The fact that Neville had asked
her to invite Harry was the part that had her the most curious
about what he wanted. As far as she knew, Neville
hadn't spoken to Harry since the card night when he'd found out
what happened at Pansy's shop. Once she fixed her own cup,
Hermione sat back in her chair. What can we do for you, Neville?
Draco glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
Curious as he was about what Neville wanted, he didn't
approve of the bare minimum of social niceties.
She ignored him. He knew exactly where he could
stick his pure blood etiquette. Harry looked up, glancing over
at Neville. Neville set his cup down.
Not me. He looked across the room
directly at Draco. Pansy.
Draco immediately stiffened. Harry let out a long breath that
almost sounded like relief. Nevada, we're all your friends
here. He said.
Whatever is going on with Pansy, we promise to help.
We'll support you no matter what.
The patronisation in his tone made Hermione's fingers twitch
towards her wand, tempted to hit him with another stinging hex to
the face. The muscle in Neville's jaw
twitched. Still, he turned to Harry with a
smile. Glad to hear it, He said.
I'm going to hold you to that promise.
Next to her, Draco snorted softly.
Am I on? His own lips twitched.
Pansy really was rubbing off on him.
Neville turned to Draco. I, we need access to your family
spells. Draco inhaled sharply.
Hermione put her hand on his knee and frowned at Neville.
He knew Draco had been cut off. How could he bring that up,
Neville? He cut her off, still staring at
Draco. Ah, nor what I'm asking, he
said. But Pansy, what spells?
Draco asked. Neville spun his family ring
around his finger. Marriage writes.
Trico's cup landed on the saucer with the amount of clatter
Hermione usually associated with Ron.
I knew it. He stood up and started pacing.
I fucking knew it. What exactly he knew she had no
idea. After the card night when he'd
noticed Neville's family ring, she'd asked Draco why Neville
being Sacred 28 made him worry something was wrong.
He hadn't told her anything other than that she had no idea
how fucked up old pure blood families could be, and that if
they had a daughter, she wasn't allowed to marry a pure blood
who wasn't a blood traitor. She refrained from pointing out
that between Azkaban and the war, those were pretty much the
only pure bloods left. Or the fact that their
hypothetical daughter would be 1/2 blood and therefore
ineligible to marry any pure blood who wasn't a blood
traitor, Malfoy and Black lineage or not.
Obviously there was some sort of old pure blood custom going on,
but she had no idea what it was or why the Malfoy family rights
were so important. Harry cleared his throat.
So it was. Did she have something over?
Neville rounded on him with a glare.
Pansy is my wife. He snapped.
I'm asking for your help, not more judgement about her or our
marriage. Harry's eyes narrowed.
Hermione couldn't help but be suspicious, though not for any
of the reasons Harry was. From the moment Pansy had
appeared in her old flat, announcing that she and Neville
were getting married that weekend, she and Draco had known
there was more to the story, and yet she suspected there was even
more to the story now. Neville had always been
protective about Pansy and their marriage, but there was an edge
to it now, a depth that hadn't been there eight months ago.
Harry crossed his arms. If you need access to the Malfoy
family rights, what am I doing here?
She had her suspicions from the look on his face.
Harry shared them. Neville glanced back at Draco, a
hint of guilt in his expression. I'm assuming Draco no longer has
the same access to his family rights.
She glanced over at Draco. He simply raised his eyebrows.
Neville inhaled. We need to do it without anyone
finding out or getting caught. He said.
I figured after breaking into Gringotts, Marfoy Manor
shouldn't be too difficult. She frowned.
Between the blood wards and the protective enchantments, not to
mention the presence of Lucius, Narcissa, and their elves, who
would notice something suspicious right away?
It would be Drako would have to go in alone, but if his parents
caught him? Draco barked out a laugh.
She glanced at him, concerned. There wasn't a hint of humour in
his tone. He gripped the back of the wing
back he'd just vacated and smirked at Neville.
Then they'd better be ready to do it again, because our family
grimoires aren't kept at the Manor.
Neville's face fell. He ran his hand over hip, but
not before she caught the sharp bite of fear in his eyes.
Knowing Pansy and her aversion to showing what she saw as
weakness, asking for help was doubtless his very last resort.
Neville immediately took Gringot's as a lost cause when
in fact her mind had started wearing ideas and plots circling
shockingly. It's been that way even before
the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was allowed to come
in and toss the manner at will. Draco sneered.
You can't exactly say your family never gave us a reason to
be suspicious about what goes on there.
Harry muttered. Draco shot him a glare.
Oh, come on. Harry said.
You're not seriously going to argue It wasn't the history of
his family manner he objected to, just that Harry brought it
up in front of her. She'd argue with them both,
Harry for giving Draco a hard time and Draco for trying to
protect her, but there were more important things to discuss.
I disagree. She said.
The three men gaped at her as she sipped her tea.
Harry glanced at Draco and back at her.
That Malfoy Manor doesn't have a recent history of suspicious
behaviour. Even Draco looked dubious.
His gaze dropped to her left arm, the familiar grief and
guilt flashing across his face. She let it go.
About Gringot's being more difficult than the manner.
She glanced up at Draco. His eyebrows shot up, but a
small smile curled his lips. She knew that look.
It was the one that told her she was absolutely insane, and yet
he loved her all the more for it.
She grinned back. Harry stood up.
I need to leave before this discussion continues.
Hermione glared at him. Sit back down, Hermione, if I
break into Gringotts I will lose my job.
He said. Probably end up in Azkaban.
Only if they got caught and he was still the Chosen 1.
Draco was the one they'd really had to worry about, but they
were his family vaults to begin with.
Since when did you become such a rule follower?
Harry gaped at her. We only did what we had to do in
order to defeat Voldemort. He said.
I have a wife and a job and a life that I'm not going to risk
just for. A flash of guilt crossed his
face and he glanced over at Neville.
His face hardened. My wife?
He couldn't be serious, Harry. She snapped.
He rounded on her. I've given her the benefit of
the doubt for seven fucking years, and when I gave her the
chance to address it with me, she looked me in the eye and
said she'd do it again. Without hesitation or remorse.
He yelled. She wanted me dead.
Neville rose from the couch, more furious than she'd ever
seen him before. If you paid attention to a
single one of the outrageously fucking invasive investigations
your department has done over the past seven years, you would
know that she wanted you to live.
She wanted you to win. He snapped.
She had as much reason as anyone in this room to want Voldemort
dead. Harry scoffed.
She loved Harry, and always would, but he saw the world in
black and white, Order and Death Eaters.
With time, he was working on it, but he didn't believe for one
minute that any pure bloods beyond the Weaseleys or
Longbottoms would have suffered under Voldemort's rule.
He didn't know most of the things that Draco had shared
with her, the hints she'd gotten from Pansy, the truth that Theo
and Blaze knew. Voldemort's defeat and death
saved a lot more than just muggleborns and blood traitors.
Still, now wasn't the time or place to unpack and argue that
Pansy put on a tough exterior to avoid getting hurt.
But she was a good person, one of the most fiercely loyal
friends Hermione had ever known. Even if she showed it in her own
way, Pansy didn't mean it. Neville rounded on her, eyes
flashing. Yes, she did.
His fury made her blink. Was he really defending Pansy's
decision to turn Harry over to Voldemort?
And if any of you have ever taken a single fucking minute to
ask her why? It looked like it took
everything in him to stop himself from continuing, as if
there was a secret he was keeping.
Hermione turned to Draco. He didn't look at her, he just
watched Neville with his piercing grey gaze.
All right. Harry said, tone full of
disbelief. Why did she do it?
Neville snorted. You should be asking Pansy, not
me. He said.
Although I think you of all people ever lost to that, right?
He sputtered. What's that supposed to mean?
You really want to know why she offered you up that night?
He demanded. Have Ginny asked her?
What do you? Draco broke off.
She looked up in time to see his eyes widen.
Why Jinny? Draco demanded.
A muscle in Neville's jaw tensed again.
Draco's face hardened and he spun, slamming his teacup into
the wall. Fuck.
He ran his hands through his hair and fisted it her mind.
He jumped up, looking between Neville and Draco.
What's going on? Neville met her gaze.
Something in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine.
Do you know? He asked softly.
What they planned for you if they won.
Draco spun, eyes flashing. That's enough, Longbottom.
She held Neville's gaze. To this day, she couldn't think
of it without hearing Draco's broken sobs as he'd told her
words. He'd had to force himself to
speak of a fate he'd wrongfully saw as something he needed to
beg atonement for. She straightened.
Yes. What do you mean?
Harry asked, a look of growing horror on his face as if just
realizing for the first time that if they had failed, the
certain death of his muggle born best friend might not have been
an easy evada cadavra. Draco stepped between her and
Harry Enough. Every line in his body was thick
with tension. I will not have that spoken in
my house. Harry glanced past him to
Hermione, question and fear in his eyes.
She nodded to let him know. She would tell him later.
He wouldn't be able to rest until he found out what her fate
would have been. He wouldn't be able to sleep for
a few nights after either, but the not knowing would haunt him
worse. Draco rounded on Neville.
There are things that aren't spoken about for a reason,
Longbottom. He didn't flinch at the sight of
Draco's fury. It was moments like these that
she realised how much he'd truly grown.
But she thought of him as her first year, trying to stop her
and Harry and Ron from going to get the Sorcerer's Stone.
His strength, his career shared. Always been there.
Now he levelled his even gaze at an enraged Draco Malfoy.
Is that why you never asked Pansy why she said what she did
that night? He scoffed.
I've asked her countless times and she only ever said.
His voice trailed off and his body stiffened.
Not in anger this time. She couldn't read him.
Reaching forward, she grabbed his hand and squeezed once.
Trico. His gaze trailed down to where
their hands linked. She saw the expression of
sickening realisation, but by the time his eyes met hers it
was one of tormented heartbreak, a look she'd seen far too many
times on his face and never wanted to see again.
She squeezed his hand again. It's OK, she said.
I'm OK, it's over. I know you would have found a
way to keep me safe. Draco's throat bobbed.
He glanced over at Neville, and then the two traded a look.
He squeezed her hand and then dropped it, his feature schooled
back into a look of pure determination as he turned to
Harry. Harry looked just as lost as she
felt between that exchange, perhaps more so since he didn't
know anything about Mcnair's plans for her.
What do you want? Draco demanded.
Harry blinked. What?
Draco glanced at her. I assume Potter is vital to the
plan, Yes. For the easiest path anyway.
She had a back up plan, but she wasn't sure if Harry or Ron
would forgive her for taking it. Name your price, Potter.
Draco said. You don't have to bribe him.
Hermione shot Harry astern look as soon as it looked like he was
about to disagree To help. He's going to help because it's
the right thing to do. I don't even know what this is
about. Harry said.
I'm not risking my job or my freedom for something no one
will even tell me. I don't know anything either.
Hermione said. All I know is that Pansy needs
our help and if it was Ginny, neither Neville or Draco would
hesitate. Didn't you just promise to
support and help me no matter what?
Neville demanded. Harry rounded on him.
Yeah, when I thought it was you that needed help.
I do need help. Neville snapped.
Pansy needs your help, Harry. Spat.
Pansy Parkinson, who never lifted a finger to help a single
one of us who tried to turn me over.
You have no fucking clue why she said or made any of the
decisions that she did that year, and until you do, you've
lost any fucking right to pass judgement on them.
Neville yelled. Harry drew back.
You said you would help me, he said.
You said you would make up for the way you've treated Pansy.
You said you would make up for attacking her in her own shop.
Prove it. He gaped at him.
I'm not risking my job and my reputation and my freedom.
I've risked a lot more for you off a lot less.
Harry's face fell as guilt flooded his expression.
It was a low blow, but not entirely unfair.
How about the time I flew all the way to London to invade the
Ministry of Magic, knowing nothing other than you needed to
save someone and stop Voldemort from getting a weapon?
Neville demanded. The prophecy none of them had
realised at the time could have been about Neville too.
All the time I patrolled the hallways of Hogwarts past curfew
because you just knew something was going to happen that night.
Draco stiffened next to her. God, none of them were holding
back about slinging around each other's deepest regrets and
insecurities, men. Or about the time I single
handedly held a bridge full of Snatchers from attacking
Hogwarts to buy you time to look through the entire castle for
something that possibly once belonged to Ruwaina Ravenclaw.
Harry rubbed his forehead. Nerve All the time I decapitated
a snake based on what I thought were your dying words to me.
Harry hung his head. Are we friends or not, Harry?
Neville demanded. Or is trust a one way street
with you? No, fuck, of course it isn't I.
Harry shook his head. I'm sorry Neville again, you are
my friend and I trust you. He nodded once, his neck stiff.
Harry turned to Hermione. But we're not kids, and we're
not fighting Voldemort's, he said.
Last time we had nothing to lose and everything to gain, and we
still got caught and almost died.
We need a foolproof plan to avoid either.
She grinned. You don't need to worry about
getting caught when you do it legally.
His eyebrow arched. We need a way to get Draco and
Neville into the Malfoy family vaults, and we need an alibi for
Draco. She said.
You'll need to get Ron on board. He grimaced.
Is there any way we can just be the four of us?
Neville asked. Ron doesn't need to know
anything other than have lunch with me.
She said. Honestly.
The less he knows, the better. Harry snorted.
She turned to Neville. It will be better if there are
no purchases to track, so we'll need to obtain a few ingredients
from Slughorn's office. Which ones?
Draco demanded, his voice clipped.
She tried not to smirk. She wondered how long it would
take for him to figure it out. Boom, slang skin and lacewing
flies. Harry groaned and dropped his
head back. Not again.
Fuck no, Draco snapped. Harry's head rose.
Well, that's my key for getting Ron involved.
I said no, Draco said. The man ignored him and looked
at Neville. Can you manage that?
Probably. He said.
If you need to convince Slughorn, you can always bribe
him with some venomous tentacular leaves.
Harry said with a smirk. 10 galleons to the right buyer.
Neville looked about ready to jump out of his seat and
strangle someone. Slughorn, probably.
He's the one who's been clipping my plants.
Neville, focus on Pansy. Hermione said.
He screwed his jaw. It doesn't matter, Draco said.
We'll have to find another way. Hermione shot Neville a look.
He dropped back and crossed his arms.
Fine, he snapped. But I will be having words with
him after you obtain the boomslang skin and lacewing
flies. Not fucking happening.
Draco said. Hermione only beamed.
This is going to be fun, Harry snorted.
You've been at your desk too long.