Pansy could barely hold herself together. The moment she read the owl, she let out a sharp squeal that bounced off the walls and sent Lady skittering across the rug with a startled grunt. The poor pug spun in a confused circle before huffing at Pansy as if to demand an explanation. None of it slowed her down. Pansy was practically vibrating.
"Luna's had her baby," she shouted, her voice rising with pure joy as she scooped Lady into her arms and twirled her around the room. "A beautiful, perfect little boy, Nevie. They named him Lysander. Can you believe it? Our Luna is a mother."
Across the room, Neville lifted his head from the stack of herbology notes spread across his desk. His quill hovered in the air for a moment before he set it aside, unable to stop the grin pulling at his mouth. Watching her overflow with happiness stirred something tender in him. Pansy's joy had always filled the room like sunlight, warm and impossible to resist.
He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her waist just as she bounced on her toes. "Lysander," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "It suits him. It sounds like a boy who grows into a storyteller. Luna will be brilliant, and Theo…" A small laugh escaped him. "Theo is going to be undone the first time that baby curls a hand around him."
Pansy leaned into him, her arms looping around his neck with instinctive ease. "Theo will act like he is above it, but we both know he is absolutely not. Just wait until the baby gurgles at him. He will crumble. He will probably forbid anyone from holding Lysander until the child is at least five." She paused, then added with a wicked grin, "And apparently I am on the list of corrupting forces."
"You?" Neville said, brushing his thumb along her hip. "Impossible."
"Obviously," she answered, lifting her chin with exaggerated pride. "I am an absolute blessing. Besides, I adore that child already. Luna is going to be extraordinary with him. She has a softness that little boy will bask in. And Theo… that man has spent his entire life trying to guard himself. Now he has something worth guarding." Her voice gentled. "That boy is going to grow up wrapped in love. He will never doubt it."
She could picture it easily. Luna whispering stories about starlight and forests, weaving magic into bedtime like it was a language she had always spoken. Theo standing nearby, quietly protective, trying not to show how deeply he felt every breath that baby took. Their little family growing around a child who would know wonder from the moment he opened his eyes.
Pansy felt her chest swell with it, full and warm.
With a flick of her wand, pastel streamers burst across the ceiling in an eager shower, curling in graceful ribbons. "We need to go immediately. I want gifts. I want something perfect, something that says welcome to the dynasty, little one."
Neville laughed, pulling her closer. "Why not let them rest first? We will visit soon, but tonight we can celebrate together."
She sighed dramatically and rested her cheek against his chest. "Fine, you sensible man. But I need to do something. I want them to feel this joy. I want them to know how loved they are."
Neville smoothed a hand along her spine, a slow, grounding touch. "They already know. And Lysander will grow up knowing he has the most devoted circle watching over him. You will make sure of that."
Her smile brightened. "Oh, he is going to have the best godmother and godfather. I will personally ensure he owns nothing but designer onesies. Absolutely nothing with cartoon dragons. Only tasteful, elegant baby fashion."
Neville shook his head with a fond laugh. "I am sure he will appreciate your impeccable standards."
She gave him a playful shove, then curled back into him as they swayed gently in the center of the room. Her thoughts spun ahead, imagining the celebrations, the dinners, the silly traditions they would create together. She pictured Lysander toddling around a room full of people who would love him without hesitation.
Underneath the fluttering streamers and the soft glow of the lamps, a deeper feeling took root. Gratitude. For Luna's strength. For Theo's transformation. For Neville's steady presence at her side. For the strange, beautiful family they had all built without ever intending to.
A new chapter had begun, gentle and bright, filled with life and promise.
And Pansy felt ready to step into it.
~~~~~~
The Nott estate, nestled comfortably in the rolling green countryside, seemed to exude warmth despite the cool air. Blooming roses, their fragrance sweet and heady, painted vibrant splashes of color against the backdrop of the manor's grey stone. A rare moment of tranquility settled over them, a welcome respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had dominated their lives recently.
With each step, she felt a mix of excitement and nostalgia. It was hard to believe that just a short time ago, she and Neville had been consumed by the turmoil surrounding their friends and the challenges they faced. But today was different. Today was a day for celebration, a day to welcome the newest member of their family.
Pansy arrived with Neville in tow, carrying their own happy child, Lady Lemongrass, wearing a dress that matched Pansy's stylish outfit, trotted ahead, her little legs moving eagerly as she sniffed around the unfamiliar surroundings. Pansy couldn't help but chuckle as she watched the pug's antics.
"Come on, Lady, don't get lost!" she called out playfully, but the pug was too busy investigating a particularly interesting patch of grass.
Neville followed closely behind, his hands occupied with a beautifully wrapped gift—a small wooden toy that he had crafted himself. He had spent hours whittling it down, ensuring it was safe for a baby, while she had contributed by meticulously painting it in vibrant colors. "I hope he likes it," he murmured, glancing down at the package with a mix of pride and nerves.
She smiled up at him, her heart swelling with affection. "Lysander will love it, just like he'll love all of us. Besides, he's probably going to be spoiled rotten today."
As they stepped inside the manor, the warmth enveloped them, and Luna greeted them with a warm smile, Lysander nestled comfortably in her arms. His tiny face peeked out from the soft blankets, his little fingers curling instinctively. "Pansy, Neville, so good to see you again. Come in, come in," she said, her voice a soothing melody that resonated with happiness.
Pansy beamed, allowing Lady to roam free as she excitedly bounded into the living room, eager to explore. "Luna, you look radiant. How's my little prince doing today?" she asked, her voice dripping with affection as she approached Luna, reaching out to gently touch the baby's cheek.
"He's doing wonderfully," Luna replied, glancing down at her son with eyes full of love. "I think he's finally settling into a routine, although it changes daily! But he's learning to appreciate his visitors." She smiled, revealing a hint of pride.
He placed the gift on a nearby table and approached Luna, a gentle smile on his face. "He looks so peaceful. I think he's used to all the attention by now," he added, leaning closer to catch a glimpse of the baby's small features.
"Speaking of attention," Theo said, joining them from the kitchen with a playful smirk on his face as the pug sniffed at his shoes. "I see you brought the annoying one, Parkinson."
She shrugged, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, we couldn't leave her at home. Besides, she's here to help Lysander get used to having a pet around." She glanced over at the pug, who had taken a sudden interest in Theo's shoe, probably searching for leftover crumbs.
"Just make sure she doesn't try to eat him," Theo replied, arching an eyebrow, but his tone was light and teasing.
"Oh please, she's a lover, not a fighter," she retorted, playfully swatting at Theo. "You should know that by now. Besides, Lady has a soft spot for babies."
Just then, Lady pranced back over, tail wagging with excitement. Pansy knelt down to scoop her up, cradling the pug in her arms. "See? She's already practicing her babysitting skills," she said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
Luna laughed, her laughter melodic. "I can just imagine the two of them, Lysander and Lady, the best of friends. We should start thinking about playdates for them, don't you think?"
"Absolutely!" she exclaimed. "They'll be the most adorable duo. I can picture it now: two little ones getting into mischief together."
As they settled into the cozy living room, the atmosphere filled with laughter and warmth, the chatter of friends and family enveloped them like a soft blanket. Theo moved to pour tea while Neville set up the toy he had crafted, demonstrating it for the eager eyes of his godson.
"Look, Lysander, it's a little dragon! It can breathe fire!" he said, making a whooshing sound that caused the baby to coo, his tiny fingers reaching for the colorful toy.
"Quite the performance there, Neville," she teased, watching him with admiration. "I think you're in the wrong profession. You should be an entertainer!"
He chuckled, a hint of blush creeping into his cheeks. "Maybe I'll add it to my list of skills," he replied, smiling at Luna, who was watching with amusement.
Inside, the manor hummed with a comforting bustle. Laughter and warm light emanated from the living room, beckoning them forward. Luna, ethereal in a flowing white dress that seemed to shimmer with the afternoon sunlight, stood waiting at the door. Her ever-present smile widened as she spotted them, her blonde hair cascading down in a halo of gentle curls.
The grand hall, once a space that might have felt intimidatingly vast, now radiated a welcoming ambiance. Forest-colored banners, adorned with glittering silver creatures that resembled Nifflers, hung from the rafters.
Balloons, in shades of emerald and gold, bobbed playfully in the gentle breeze that drifted through the open windows. The air buzzed with a low hum of conversation and laughter, a symphony of joy that warmed Pansy from the inside out.
Her keen eye, ever the observer, noted the handmade decorations that festooned the room—intricate paper owls perched on mantelpieces, miniature mandrake cakes nestled amongst bowls of sugared plums, and lanterns casting soft light that danced across the walls.
It was as if the essence of the Wizarding World had been distilled into this one space, wrapping everyone in a sense of wonder and delight.
Just then, Hermione and Draco entered, their presence instantly recognizable amidst the merriment. As they made their way further in, Hermione spotted Blaise and Pansy deep in conversation near a table overflowing with brightly wrapped gifts. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she gave a small wave in their direction.
"Look at all of this," Hermione whispered to Draco, her voice tinged with awe as her eyes swept over the room. "It's truly magical."
A warmth bloomed in Draco's chest, mirroring the festive spirit that filled the hall. "Indeed," he agreed, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "Luna's outdone herself. The decorations are quite… whimsical."
Luna led them towards a cozy corner where a small group had gathered. Seated on a plush armchair was Neville, his face lit with radiant joy as he cradled a sleeping baby in his arms.
Nestled in a miniature, hand-stitched crib, the tiny form of Lysander seemed peacefully oblivious to the excitement surrounding him. As they approached, Neville looked up, his smile widening as he recognized them.
"Hermione, Draco! So glad you could make it," he exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. His gaze then shifted to the bundle in his arms. "This little one here seems to be saving all his energy for the real celebrations."
Even in slumber, a faint resemblance to both Luna and Theo was evident. He possessed her delicate features and wispy blonde hair, but the smattering of freckles dusting his nose was a clear nod to Theo's heritage. A chorus of soft coos and hushed whispers filled the air as the group fawned over the sleeping child.
"Isn't he just perfect?" Pansy said warmly, nodding towards the sleeping baby.
"He really is," Hermione agreed softly, her heart melting at the sight of the tiny baby. "Congratulations, Luna, and to you too, Theo."
"Thank you," Luna replied, her smile widening as she leaned in closer to admire her son. "He's brought so much light into our lives."
Draco stepped closer, unable to resist the urge to peer at the baby. "Lysander Nott," he murmured, a hint of awe coloring his tone. "The most beautiful baby boy I have ever seen."
Luna chuckled lightly. "You're just saying that because he's your 'nephew' to spoil, Draco," she teased, but her eyes sparkled with gratitude.
As they all gathered around Neville and the sleeping baby, the laughter and chatter in the room began to swell, filling every corner with a joyous warmth. Pansy felt a surge of happiness wash over her as she watched Neville gently rock Lysander, his expression a perfect blend of pride and tenderness. It was a sight she would treasure forever.
"Can I hold him?" Hermione asked, her voice soft and reverent, almost as if she feared waking him.
"Of course! Just be careful," Neville said, carefully transferring the baby into Hermione's arms.
Hermione cradled him close, her heart swelling as she looked down at the tiny face that was so peaceful and innocent. "Hi there, little Lysander. I'm your Auntie Hermione," she whispered, her eyes shining with affection.
Pansy moved closer, peering over Hermione's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the baby. "You're going to be the most spoiled baby in the world, you know that, right?"
Lysander stirred slightly at the sound of her voice but remained peacefully asleep. "Look at him! He's so relaxed," Pansy remarked, a grin spreading across her face.
Draco leaned in closer, a proud glimmer in his eyes as he surveyed his friends surrounding the baby. "I never thought I'd see the day when Neville Longbottom would be so effortlessly charming with a child," he teased, earning an exaggerated huff from Neville.
"It's all thanks to you lot. I've had the best examples," Neville said, glancing around at the gathered friends. "And speaking of spoiling, we should get to the gifts before he wakes up and demands attention."
"Good idea! Let's see what treasures everyone has brought," Luna chimed in, her enthusiasm infectious.
As they settled into a circle on the plush rug, the atmosphere shifted into one of eager anticipation. Hermione gently passed Lysander back to Neville, who cradled him with practiced ease.
One by one, they began to present their gifts—colorful packages wrapped in ribbons and adorned with sparkly bows. Pansy had brought a soft blanket, magically imbued to keep Lysander warm on chilly nights. Draco presented a silver rattle shaped like a dragon, its eyes sparkling with enchanted light.
Luna laughed as each gift was unveiled, her joy palpable as she watched her friends celebrate the arrival of her son. It felt surreal to her, surrounded by love and friendship, all woven together in this moment.
As the day continued, laughter and playful banter filled the room, with Lady Lemongrass occasionally interrupting the festivities with her eager barks. The atmosphere buzzed with a palpable sense of joy, a shared celebration of life and love that seemed to deepen their bonds.
Pansy watched the scene unfold, a warm glow enveloping her heart. This was what life was about, the connections they formed, the joy they shared, and the promise of new beginnings. With friends like these, she knew their lives would always be filled with laughter, adventure, and above all, love.
As the afternoon unfolded, Hermione and Draco mingled with the guests, sharing stories and laughter. Draco found himself engaged in a lively conversation with Theo and Blaise about the trials and triumphs of parenting. Their banter was filled with playful jabs and shared experiences, each man finding common ground in their newfound roles as fathers.
Meanwhile, Hermione caught up with Luna and Pansy, exchanging updates on their latest adventures and life changes, their voices mingling in a harmonious blend of excitement and camaraderie.
Across the room, Ginny was bubbling with enthusiasm, her cheeks flushed with joy as she presented a basket filled with homemade cookies and a selection of adorable baby clothes. "I couldn't resist bringing these! They're all enchanted to grow with him, of course!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The atmosphere was one of pure delight, a celebration of new beginnings and cherished friendships.
For now, Ginny would hold onto this moment, a sweet glimpse into a potential future that filled her with hope. She smiled to herself, knowing that every day was a new opportunity to nurture the love she was building with Blaise, one step at a time.
Later, as the sun began to set and the guests started to leave, Hermione stood with Luna by the window, watching the golden hues of twilight spread across the sky like a watercolor painting. "Thank you for inviting us, babe. This was really wonderful," Hermione said sincerely, her heart full as she admired the scene before her.
Luna smiled warmly, her expression radiant in the soft light. "I'm so glad you could be here, Mimi. It wouldn't have been the same without you."
Just then, Theo's worst nightmare came true when he spotted Lady leaping onto the crib, determined to join Lysander for an afternoon nap.
"BEAST, get off immediately!" Theo's voice sliced through the warm atmosphere, sharp with alarm as he strode over, his heart pounding in his chest. But the pug merely gave him a bombastic side-eye, her expression one of pure defiance, before snuggling even closer to the sleeping baby.
Theo's frustration bubbled over as he reached for Lady, but Luna's gentle hand on his arm stopped him. "Theo, look," she whispered, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "She's just being protective."
Taking a deep breath, Theo watched as Lady curled up beside Lysander, her little body radiating warmth and comfort. Though he remained uneasy, Theo couldn't help but feel a swell of affection at the sight. It seemed that even their stubborn pug had been charmed by their son, her loyalty evident in her sleepy embrace.
Returning to the garden, Theo vented his frustration to Pansy, who was enjoying the festive atmosphere. "Parkinson, your creature is disturbing my son. Make her stop snoring," Theo complained, his annoyance clear as he gestured towards Lady, who was blissfully oblivious.
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. "What's got your knickers in a twist, darling? Afraid Lady will have a bestie?" she retorted, her sassy attitude shining through, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Theo rolled his eyes, unable to suppress a small grin despite himself, as Pansy's witty banter and Lady Lemongrass's antics lightened the mood. "I just want him to have a peaceful nap. Is that too much to ask?" he huffed, the corners of his mouth betraying his irritation.
As the meal came to a close, Luna stood up, her eyes shimmering with gratitude as she surveyed the room filled with friends and loved ones. "Thank you all for being here today. Your friendship means the world to us, and we're so grateful to share this day with you."
Theo nodded in agreement, his arm protectively wrapped around Luna's waist. "You've all been there for us through thick and thin. Today, as we celebrate our new addition, we want you to know that you are our family, and we couldn't have asked for a better one."
The group raised their glasses in a toast, the sound of clinking glass echoing softly as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the gathering. It was a moment of pure joy, a memory they would all cherish for years to come. Laughter mingled with the fading light, a fitting end to a day filled with love and celebration.
As the last of the guests trickled out, Hermione lingered, casting one last glance at the joyful chaos of the afternoon. She felt a warmth in her heart, knowing that these moments were what truly mattered. With her friends by her side and love blossoming in her life, the future looked brighter than ever.
~~~~~~
Her big day was finally here.
The sun rose slowly over Parkinson Manor, gilding the estate in the kind of morning light that felt almost deliberate, as if the sky itself had chosen this day to be generous.
Gold brushed the tops of the trees, filtered through the gardens, and settled over the manor's stone walls until everything looked softened, warmed, and quietly expectant. Even the air seemed to thrum with anticipation, as though the entire estate understood what was coming.
The garden had been transformed into something that felt nearly unreal. Workers had moved through the grounds through the night, placing the final touches in whispered voices so as not to disturb the stillness, and now their efforts shone clear in the soft morning light.
The entrance alone was enough to steal the breath of anyone who crossed it. A sweeping archway stretched overhead, woven from roses, orchids, and peonies brought in from every corner of the world.
Petals spilled down in gentle cascades, catching the breeze and releasing a perfume so rich and sweet that one could almost taste it.
Strands of satin ribbon, silk-soft and glimmering faintly in the sun, danced among the flowers. Emerald green and pale ivory twined together like threads in a tapestry, marking the union of two old families without the stiff pomp those houses were once known for. Today, the colours felt softer. Warmer. More like an embrace than a proclamation.
The aisle unfurled through the garden like something out of a dream. A white carpet ran the full length of it, smooth and plush underfoot, the Parkinson and Longbottom crests embroidered in gold so fine it sparkled when the light moved across it.
Tall crystal vases lined the path, each overflowing with lilies and hydrangeas that glowed faintly from the enchantments placed upon them. The light touched their petals in a soft shimmer, as if the blooms had been dusted with starlight.
Above the aisle, countless fairy lights hovered in delicate swirls, unconcerned with the daylight. Their soft glow added another layer of magic to the air, a quiet promise that the moment they dimmed for evening, the garden would look like the inside of a star.
At the end of the aisle stood the heart of the ceremony. A canopy rose overhead, formed of silver branches braided together so seamlessly it looked grown rather than crafted. Wisteria fell in long curtains from the canopy, their blossoms brushing gently in the morning breeze.
The altar beneath it was carved from pale marble threaded with natural gold, elegant and understated in a way that still felt unmistakably Pansy. Enchanted flowers rested across its surface, each one shifting colour so slowly it looked like the petals were breathing.
Behind the altar, an enormous crystal fountain sent thin sheets of water tumbling into a clear pool. The surface reflected the entire garden like a mirror, turning the scene into something that looked endless, as though the moment itself might stretch on forever if one held perfectly still.
Rows of seats had been arranged with almost military precision. Gold and silver chairs, each tied with velvet cushions and soft satin bows, lined the aisle in perfect symmetry. When guests arrived, every one of them would feel the weight of the detail, the hospitality, the care woven into the space.
Music drifted through the garden, light as a breeze. A harpist sat near the front, fingers gliding across the strings in a soft melody that mingled with the occasional flutter of wings from the exotic birds perched in their golden cages. Their song blended effortlessly with the harp, as if the creatures had rehearsed for this morning too.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ancient oaks, suspended with invisible charms. Even in daylight they sparkled, scattering little scattered rainbows across the grass. Further along the garden, an open-air pavilion waited patiently, its enchanted glass roof prepared to transform into a map of the heavens once night fell.
For all its grandeur, the garden never felt cold. The extravagance was softened by something gentler. Something warm. Every bloom, every ribbon, every flicker of candlelight had been placed with intention. Not to show wealth, but to show love. To honour a story that had been messy and stubborn and reluctant at first, and then slow to bloom, and finally so steady that even the earth beneath the manor seemed to recognize its truth.
The morning stretched itself over the estate in quiet gold. The garden breathed. The air held its promise.
It was ready. Ready to witness the moment two people, who had once been nothing more than strangers who annoyed each other, would walk forward and choose each other again.
Ready to hold every vow, every tear, every laugh.
Ready to watch them begin the rest of their lives.
~~~~~~
Inside the grand suite of Parkinson Manor, a whirl of excitement spun through the air like glitter caught in sunlight. Pansy stood in the center of it all, wrapped in emerald silk that shimmered each time she so much as breathed. The morning light poured through the tall windows, turning the room into a warm golden haven filled with perfume, soft laughter, and the rustle of fabric.
Hermione, Ginny, and Luna moved around her like tiny planets orbiting a very glamorous sun. The room rang with chatter, teasing, affectionate insults, and the occasional squeal that startled the poor maid ironing the final set of robes in the corner.
Pansy lifted her chin, staring at her reflection as if she were trying to commit every detail to memory. The lace, the beads, the way the fabric hugged her like it had been designed by fate rather than a small army of dressmakers. She looked powerful. Beautiful. A tiny bit terrifying in the best possible way.
And utterly, devastatingly real.
She was getting married.
Hermione stepped back, her hands hovering near Pansy's veil to adjust a few stray curls. Her eyes softened with something that looked dangerously close to tears. "Pansy, you look radiant. Truly. You look like the version of yourself you used to pretend to be, only now it is real."
Pansy pressed a hand to her chest, overwhelmed. "Stop it or I will cry and then I will kill you," she said, voice trembling despite the threat.
Ginny swooped in behind Hermione, shooing her away playfully. "Move, Hermione, let the professional hype woman have a turn." She flicked the veil with an approving hum. "Honestly, I cannot believe Neville is marrying someone this unreal. I hope he is hydrated. I hope someone is standing behind him with a chair. He might faint."
Pansy arched a brow. "Please. Neville has fainted once in his life and it was because you hexed him."
"That was a misunderstanding," Ginny insisted. "I told you, I thought he was someone else."
"You hexed him in the face," Hermione reminded her.
Ginny waved this off with a flourish. "Anyway. He will survive this. Barely."
Luna drifted over, humming something soft and melodic. She placed a gentle hand on Pansy's arm, tilting her head as she admired the gown. "You are glowing." Her voice was soft, a little dreamy. "Like moonlight on a still lake. Neville is going to look at you and forget how to breathe."
Pansy laughed, touched and flustered all at once. "I swear, the lot of you are trying to send me into early death."
Luna smiled. "Not at all. We just want you to understand how loved you are."
That silenced the room for a moment. Pansy felt her breath catch, her throat tightening the way it always did when someone touched that part of her heart. The part she kept buried. The part she rarely let anyone see.
Hermione was the first to break the stillness, stepping closer with a playful nudge. "Look at you, getting all sentimental. Should we get tissues?"
"Absolutely not," Pansy muttered, dabbing beneath her eye. "I am already risking hydration loss from sweating in this silk torture device. Tears are not an option."
Ginny snorted. "You are so dramatic."
"Thank you," Pansy replied, as though it were a compliment.
Luna leaned closer, her voice low and warm. "This day is for you. You chose your life. You chose love. That is not something your younger self ever imagined she could have. So I think it is perfectly normal to feel your heart stretching beyond what you thought possible."
Pansy swallowed hard. "Luna, I swear, if you make me cry again, I will send you home in the carriage with the squeaky wheel."
The girls burst into laughter, the room filling with that fizzy, bright energy that only existed among women who trusted each other with their whole hearts.
Hermione picked up the bouquet, turning the flowers in her hands with a small, loving smile. "You know," she said softly, "if someone had told me ten years ago that I would be helping Pansy Parkinson get ready for her wedding, I would have assumed the universe had collapsed."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Please, Granger. You have been obsessed with me for ages."
Ginny choked on her own laughter. "She really has."
Hermione flushed. "Oh, shut it."
Luna clasped her hands. "I always knew we would end up like this. The universe kept tugging us together."
Pansy crossed her arms with a proud smirk. "Well, obviously it did. I make an excellent friend."
"You do," Hermione said, stepping forward to hug her gently. "You really do."
Ginny wrapped her arms around them, her chin landing on Pansy's shoulder. "And we are not going anywhere. You can scream at us, throw shoes at us, threaten us with poisoned cocktails, and we will still be here."
"I have never threatened you with poisoned cocktails," Pansy said with a sniff.
"You definitely have," Ginny countered.
Luna placed her hands over theirs, her eyes warm and misty. "We love you, Pansy. You are not doing this alone. And today is going to be beautiful."
The air softened, warm as honey. The four of them clung together for a long moment, breathing in one another's perfume, laughter, nerves, and joy. A knot loosened in Pansy's chest that she had not even realized she was holding.
Finally, she pulled back, fanning her face. "Enough. If I ruin this makeup, the photographer will quit."
Hermione handed her the bouquet. "Then stop being sweet."
Ginny adjusted her train. "And start being iconic."
Luna fixed the last curl behind her ear. "You are ready."
Pansy took one last look in the mirror. The woman staring back looked strong. Loved. Certain. The kind of woman who walked into the future without hesitation.
Her heart soared.
"It is time," she whispered.
~~~~~~
In a nearby room, Neville paced relentlessly, his polished shoes scuffing faint marks into the marble tiles. Each step felt too loud in the quiet room. His fingers fumbled with the cufflinks of his phthalo green dress robes, the shade meant to mirror the color of Pansy's gown. The color looked regal under the chandelier's glow, but in his current state, he barely noticed. He could only see how clammy his hands felt and how uneven his breath had become.
He stopped in front of the mirror again, searching his own reflection for some reassurance. The man who stared back looked respectable on the outside, hair neatly combed, robes perfectly tailored, shoulders squared. But his eyes gave him away. They flickered with nerves he couldn't quite swallow.
What if I stumble walking toward her?
What if I freeze halfway through the vows?
What if she looks at me and expects something profound, and all I manage is some pathetic whisper?
He rubbed both hands over his face, lingering there, trying to breathe through the knot tightening in his chest. Somewhere down the hall, laughter drifted through the walls, light and excited. The sound made his heart clench. That was the world outside this room, the party beginning, guests arriving, the garden filling with flowers and music. Pansy was in the next suite, probably glowing and confident, surrounded by people who adored her.
And here he was, wondering if he should lie down before he fainted.
He closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and attempted to steady himself.
The door creaked open.
Theo walked in as if he owned the manor, hands tucked into his pockets, the picture of casual elegance. He took one look at Neville and raised his brows, hiding a grin poorly.
"Relax, Longbottom," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "You look like you are preparing to duel a Hungarian Horntail."
Neville laughed without humor. "Feels about the same."
Theo stepped closer, watching him pace. "What is going on in that head of yours?"
Neville dragged a hand through his hair. "What if I ruin this? What if I say something stupid or forget everything I rehearsed? What if she looks at me and thinks she made a mistake?"
Theo's teasing softened. He rested a steady hand on Neville's shoulder. "She chose you," he said simply. "Not a polished speech. Not perfection. You. The same man who somehow wins every argument with her without actually fighting. The man who gets her to smile even when she wants to hex someone into next week. She does not need a flawless performance. She wants the man who makes her feel safe."
Neville swallowed hard. The words sank in slowly, easing something tight in his chest.
Before he could respond, the door opened again. Draco stepped inside, immaculate from head to toe, looking like he had strolled straight out of a fashion catalogue. His sharp gaze made a quick sweep of Neville before he sighed loudly.
"Merlin's beard, Longbottom. You look like you are about to vomit."
Neville groaned. "I would prefer not to, but it feels likely."
Draco smoothed his cuffs, unfazed. "You are getting married, not being sentenced at the Ministry. And honestly, Pansy has planned this day down to the position of every rose petal. You could stand at the altar and say the alphabet, and she would still think the ceremony is perfect."
Theo snorted. "He is not wrong."
Neville's laugh came out shaky but real. "I just want it to be good. For her. I want to give her everything she deserves."
Draco's posture softened ever so slightly, his voice quieter. "Perfection is not the point," he said. "She does not want a performance. She wants a partner. Look at her when she walks down the aisle. Really look at her. That is what matters."
Neville let that settle. The truth of it warmed something deep inside him.
Theo stepped in front of him and straightened Neville's tie with more force than strictly necessary. "And honestly, even if you did trip, she would roast you for the rest of your life and then marry you anyway."
Neville groaned. "I hate that you are probably right."
"I am definitely right," Theo replied.
He stepped back. Neville returned to the mirror. This time, he saw the nerves, yes, but also the determination beneath them. A steadiness. A man who knew who he wanted at the end of that aisle. A man who loved her enough to be afraid.
"I can do this," Neville said quietly. He adjusted the collar of his robes, lifted his chin, and felt a small spark of courage take root. "I want this more than anything."
Draco smirked. "Good. Because cancelling would create a logistical nightmare."
Theo rolled his eyes. "Ignore him. He means he is proud of you."
Neville huffed out a laugh. "Thank you. Both of you. Really."
Draco nodded once, firm and approving. Theo clapped him on the back with a grin.
"Alright, Longbottom," Draco said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the door. "Time to get married."
Neville took one last breath. His heart steadied. His hands stopped shaking. He touched his cufflinks again, not out of nerves but out of readiness.
With his two closest friends walking beside him, he moved toward the door.
The next chapter of his life was waiting.
~~~~~~
The music began softly, a graceful melody that drifted through the garden and wrapped itself around every guest like a gentle embrace. It felt almost alive, as though it knew the importance of the moment and wanted to cradle it tenderly. Conversations fell quiet, chairs shifted, and heads turned toward the entrance in a single collective breath of anticipation.
Behind the floral archway, Pansy tightened her hold on her father's arm. The silk of her gown rustled softly when she inhaled. For weeks she had pictured this entrance, rehearsing it in her mind until she could almost feel the carpet under her feet. None of those imagined moments prepared her for the real one. It arrived with a rush of emotion so fierce it stole the air from her lungs.
She lifted her gaze.
Neville stood at the altar, waiting for her. Sunlight filtered through the wisteria above him, gilding his shoulders in a soft, heavenly glow. His phthalo green robes caught the light in a way that made them shimmer. His hands twitched slightly at his sides, betraying nerves he would never admit to anyone, but his eyes told a different story. They shone with a tenderness so raw that Pansy nearly forgot to take her first step.
There was love there, plain and unguarded. A love that belonged entirely to her.
She moved forward slowly, her footsteps light on the embroidered carpet. The world blurred into color and movement, but none of it reached her. She barely noticed the enchanted petals drifting from the canopy or the way the wisteria swayed as if bowing in greeting. Everything softened at the edges, folding into quiet focus.
All she could see was Neville.
He exhaled a shaky breath when she drew closer. His eyes flickered with emotion, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. She watched the moment he forgot his nerves entirely. His whole face lit with awe.
"Merlin, you are beautiful," he whispered once she stood before him. His voice trembled, his fingers brushing hers with reverence.
Pansy felt her smile grow despite the tears gathering in her eyes. "I know," she answered softly, lifting her chin with playful pride.
He choked out a laugh, a warm sound that settled her nerves instantly. His hands slid fully into hers, his grip steady and sure. "I cannot believe this day is real," he murmured, eyes locked on her as if she were the only person in the world.
"I dreamed about it," she admitted, her voice quiet and full of truth. "I dreamed of standing here with you."
He breathed in a little too sharply, caught between disbelief and overflowing affection. "I never imagined I would be this lucky," he said.
She lifted one brow with familiar confidence. "Nevie, I chose you."
His smile widened until it reached his eyes. "Then I will spend the rest of my life showing you how grateful I am."
The officiant stepped forward, but neither of them shifted their gaze. The air seemed to tighten around them, drawing them closer, tethering them to the promises they were about to make.
The ceremony unfolded like a gentle poem.
When Pansy spoke her vows, her voice carried through the garden with surprising steadiness. Her thumbs brushed along his knuckles as she said, "I vow to love you in every version of yourself. I promise to stand with you, to challenge you, to grow beside you. You are my home and my peace. You are my greatest adventure, Neville, and I will never let you forget it."
Neville blinked rapidly, his breath faltering. His thumb moved across her palm again and again, as though it steadied him. When he spoke, his voice came rough with emotion. "You saw me long before I ever learned how to see myself. You loved me even when I doubted I deserved it. I promise to love you fiercely and honestly. I promise to choose you every day. You are the fire that steadies me and the light that keeps me moving forward. You are the best thing I have ever been given."
Tears shimmered in Pansy's eyes. Neville looked seconds away from breaking into tears himself.
"By the power vested in me," the officiant announced, his words ringing clear and bright, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Neville moved the moment he heard it. His hands cupped her face with trembling wonder, and when he kissed her, the garden erupted. Cheers thundered around them, but Pansy barely heard a single sound. She felt weightless, pulled entirely into the heat of his lips and the heartbeat pounding beneath his robes.
She was home.
As dusk settled, the reception took on a dreamlike glow. Fairy lights twined through the branches above them, each one flickering softly against the warm night. The scent of honeyed wine and pastries drifted on the breeze. Laughter spilled through the garden like music, bright and joyful, rising from groups of friends who clinked glasses and swayed to the gentle rhythm of the evening.
Neville held out his hand to her for their first dance, the gesture tender and inviting. She slipped her hand into his, and he guided her onto the dance floor just as the melody shifted into something slow and intimate.
His hands slid around her waist. Hers curled over his shoulders. They moved together as if they had been dancing like this their entire lives.
"We did it, Sassy," he whispered, his forehead brushing hers. "We really did."
Her laugh came soft and warm. "We did, my love. And this is only the beginning."
Neville gazed at her with a reverence that made her chest ache. "I still cannot believe you actually married me."
She smirked, brushing her thumb along his cheek. "You are stuck with me now, Longbottom."
His grin was immediate. "Good."
Around them, the dance floor filled slowly. Ginny spun with Blaise, her hair catching the light with every turn. Theo danced with Luna, who rested her head on his chest with serene joy. Draco lingered at the edge, pretending to be unimpressed while secretly watching everyone with the hint of a smile.
But Pansy and Neville remained wrapped in their own world, moving in perfect harmony.
Later, once the music softened and the guests scattered into smaller groups, they slipped away hand in hand. They wandered toward the far end of the garden, where the lanterns grew sparse and the stars pressed closer.
The night air kissed her shoulders with cool softness. The world around them quieted into a gentle hum.
Neville stopped beneath a silver birch and turned to her fully. His fingers tightened around hers, and something warm flickered in his eyes.
"I promise to care for you," he said, voice low and steady. "I promise to stand beside you, to protect you, to be yours in every season of our lives."
Her breath caught. A soft ache bloomed in her chest, tender and full. "And I promise to lift you up when you falter, to treasure every part of you, and to love you with everything I have."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Their vows lingered in the space between them, golden and fragile, binding their hearts in something sacred.
Then he reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered on her cheek, warm and gentle.
"I love you," he whispered.
She leaned into his touch, a quiet sigh escaping as her eyes softened. "I love you too, Nevie. Always."
He pulled her closer, and their lips met again beneath the endless stretch of stars. The kiss tasted of promise, of forever, of a love that would shape every day to come.
Behind them, laughter rose from the garden, carried by the glow of lanterns and the sweetness of wine. The celebration continued, joyful and bright.
But here, in this quiet corner, Pansy and Neville stood together, wrapped in the warmth of their vows. Their hearts beat in unison. Their future shimmered like starlight.
This was the beginning of everything.