THE TOWER AND THE STAR - Pansy Neville (HP)

When the news of Lucius Malfoy's death reached her, Pansy was enveloped in a swirl of conflicting emotions. At first, she felt a sense of relief wash over her—a feeling that had caught her off guard. Lucius had always loomed over Draco like a dark cloud, a relentless presence that cast shadows over his life. Now, with his passing, she found herself quietly glad that Draco was finally free from the burdens of his father's legacy and the oppressive weight of his expectations.

Yet, alongside that relief was a twinge of guilt. Lucius, for all his faults, had been a powerful figure in the wizarding world. His cunning and ruthlessness had earned him both respect and fear. The legacy he left behind was complicated, filled with dark secrets and unanswered questions. She had witnessed firsthand the toll it had taken on Draco—the way he had struggled against his father's influence, grappling with the need to live up to an image he never wanted to embody.

As she sat alone in her thoughts, she couldn't help but reflect on the man Lucius had been. He had been charismatic and commanding, with a silver tongue that could sway the opinions of many. In her mind, she replayed the interactions she had with him over the years—the cool smiles, the thinly veiled disdain, and the moments when his gaze would linger just a second too long, as if measuring her worth. Despite her disdain for him, she realized he had also been a father in some capacity, a figure whose absence would undoubtedly create a void in Draco's life, no matter how toxic their relationship had been.

She knew that Draco would need time to process this loss, even if it was one he had long anticipated. She imagined the conflict he must feel—mourning the father he had wanted but never had, while simultaneously celebrating the liberation from a life dictated by Lucius's ambitions and fears. The thought of being there for him filled her with a sense of purpose, and she resolved to support him through this tumultuous time.

With her mind made up, she stood and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. She would reach out to Draco, offering her unwavering support, not just as a friend but as someone who understood the complexities of his feelings. She knew that navigating grief was never easy, and she was determined to be his anchor, helping him through the storm of emotions that would surely come.

In that moment, she felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this was the beginning of something new for both of them—a chance to redefine their lives and their relationship in the wake of loss, to shed the old skin of their past and step into a future that was theirs to shape.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty-eight hours later, Draco stood beside Hermione at the gravesite, their hands clasped tightly together, each gripping the other as if drawing strength from their connection. Their gazes were fixed on the open grave of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, the ground freshly disturbed and waiting to receive the man who had once commanded both fear and respect. The still morning air hung heavy with the weight of the past, a tangible silence pressing down upon them, amplifying the gravity of the moment.

Neither of them felt sorrow. There was no overwhelming grief or loss that engulfed their hearts; instead, a profound sense of detachment washed over them. It was as if they were observing the end of a chapter they had long since stopped reading—an emotionless witness to the burial of a man who had shaped their lives in ways they had both struggled to articulate. A cold, clinical peace had settled in, a tranquil calm that followed the storm of their shared histories.

The others stood nearby, each lost in their thoughts. Theo, Pansy, and Blaise formed a quiet trio, their expressions mirroring the sense of closure that lingered in the air. They, too, were grappling with the implications of this moment. In their own ways, they had all been touched by Lucius Malfoy's influence, but today was a farewell to the dark legacy he had left behind.

As the first shovelfuls of soil began to cover the coffin, Draco's heart felt oddly light. The man being lowered into the earth had once been a towering figure in their lives, a symbol of power, darkness, and a cruel legacy. But now, stripped of his influence and grandeur, he was merely a ghost of the past, a relic of a world they had both fought so hard to escape. The rhythmic sound of the earth being cast down felt almost like a lullaby, soothing in its finality.

Nearby, Narcissa stood composed and solemn, her elegant figure framed against the gray sky. To anyone else, she appeared the very picture of grief, but her eyes betrayed a sense of relief rather than sorrow. Years of heavy burdens seemed to lift from her shoulders as she watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. The oppressive weight of her husband's expectations and the shadows of his darker deeds were now being buried alongside him. A single tear escaped Narcissa's eye as the coffin disappeared from sight, falling like a silent acknowledgement of a life lived, a chapter finally closed.

She glanced at Draco and Hermione, a small nod of acknowledgment passing between them. In that moment, unspoken understanding flowed between the three of them. They had shared the burden of Lucius Malfoy's oppressive legacy, and now they were free to redefine their lives without his looming presence.

No one spoke during the service. The sky above was overcast, matching the somber mood of those gathered. The minister's voice, steady yet hollow, recited the words of the ceremony, but they felt like echoes of a distant past, lost in the weight of their own reflections. As he concluded the final prayers, the gathered crowd began to disperse slowly, a muted procession of figures lost in their own thoughts.

Draco and Hermione remained behind for a moment longer, their thoughts intertwined yet separate. Draco's mind was a whirlwind of memories—both cherished and haunting—flashes of his childhood, the suffocating expectations, and the moments of clarity he had found amidst the chaos. He felt Hermione's presence beside him, her strength a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty swirling within him.

Pansy settled into her seat beside the boys, her expression a mix of relief and defiance. She surveyed their faces, each marked with a blend of camaraderie and understanding that only those who had endured similar hardships could share.

"Good riddance," she declared, the words spilling from her lips with a fierce conviction.

In unison, the boys echoed back, "Amen." The sound reverberated through the room, a chorus of agreement that hung in the air like a spell cast to ward off old memories.

Blaise leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head as a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "None of us cried when our parents died or went to Azkaban," he remarked, his tone light yet laced with an underlying seriousness.

Theo chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Why would we? I was quite happy, actually." His eyes twinkled with mischief, recalling the burdens they had all shed over the years.

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she chimed in, "Me too. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders." The truth of her words resonated within her, a liberating sensation that she hadn't fully grasped until now.

The conversation flowed easily among them, the shared understanding of their past binding them together. They began reminiscing about their childhoods—fragments of memories both painful and absurd.

"Remember when we tried to sneak into the Forbidden Forest?" Blaise began, laughter dancing in his eyes. "We thought we were so clever until Hagrid found us and dragged us back like a couple of lost puppies."

"Oh, please," Pansy scoffed, shaking her head, but her smile betrayed her amusement. "You were the one who nearly fell into that boggart! I thought I was going to die from laughter."

Theo chimed in, "I still can't believe you thought it was a giant snake, Pansy. You nearly gave Hagrid a heart attack!"

They shared hearty laughter, the kind that echoed off the walls and seemed to fill the space with warmth. It felt good to lighten the atmosphere, to banish the heaviness of the funeral from their minds, even if just for a moment.

"But really," Blaise said, his expression shifting slightly, "this is a new beginning for us. We can finally break free from the shadows our families cast over us. No more guilt, no more expectations."

Her heart swelled at the thought. "Yes! We can define our own lives now. This is our chance to build something that's truly ours."

Theo grinned, leaning back with a confident flair. "We should throw a party—celebrate our newfound freedom! Invite everyone who's ever felt trapped by their family's expectations."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "I like that idea. A real bash to kick off our rebellion against the past!"

"Count me in," she added enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We could make it a theme—something extravagant, something that would make our families turn in their graves."

They began tossing ideas around, the atmosphere buzzing with energy as they envisioned a night filled with laughter, music, and the sweet taste of freedom.

As the conversation flowed, she felt a sense of belonging that warmed her from the inside out. She realized that this bond with the boys was something she had craved all along—a family forged not by blood, but by shared experiences and mutual understanding.

"Here's to new beginnings," dhe raised an imaginary glass, her voice bright and full of hope.

"To new beginnings!" they echoed back, their spirits lifted, united in the promise of what was to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They attended the Sunday brunch that weekend, both impeccably dressed in Valentino, a brand that had somehow become a pureblood staple and a showcase of their status. Pansy, her usual fierce demeanor softened by the elegance of her attire, wore a stunning crimson dress that hugged her curves, a sharp contrast to her dark hair. Beside her, Neville looked equally dapper in a tailored suit that complemented her ensemble perfectly. It was a visual representation of their partnership, a blend of strength and charm.

Meanwhile, Hermione wore a rich velvet mini dress from the latest collection, adorned with goddess-inspired gold jewelry that shimmered under the sunlight. Draco stood beside her, exuding the dark and brooding essence of Hades himself, his tailored suit accentuating his sharp features. Together, they looked as if they had stepped off a runway, their attire perfectly coordinated and enhancing their striking presence. For a moment, they became the center of attention, a couple seemingly made for each other, even if their union had raised eyebrows among those familiar with their history.

The gathered purebloods nodded in approval, acknowledging the power and beauty the couples represented. Draco's arm wrapped possessively around Hermione's waist, a gesture that conveyed both pride and ownership. Together, they radiated strength and determination, embodying a modern-day Hades and Persephone—bound together against the odds yet standing tall in their individuality.

"Hello, lovebirds! You both look amazing!" Ginny greeted them, her voice cheerful as she approached, her own vibrant outfit a testament to her fiery spirit.

"Finally, some pureblood rubbed off on Hermione," Blaise added with a chuckle as he joined them, his casual air belying his sharp wit.

"Positive influence?" Draco countered, a playful smirk on his lips as he raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps some credit is due to my impeccable taste."

Hermione rolled her eyes, mirroring Draco's smirk. "Oh please, you and your 'impeccable taste.' More likely an intern at Valentino owes you a galleon."

Blaise chuckled, shaking his head. "Regardless of the origin, the results are undeniable. You both look like you waltzed straight out of a magical fashion show."

"Absolutely," Ginny agreed, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "You look like you just stepped off the cover of a wizarding fashion magazine."

Draco glanced at Hermione, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "See? Even Blaise and Ginny approve."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the compliment. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment."

"Definitely," Blaise said, his tone turning more serious. "You both make quite the power couple."

Draco nodded in acknowledgment, a hint of pride in his expression. "Thank you, Blaise. We're just trying to keep up with you and Ginny."

"Oh, please," Ginny laughed, waving her hand dismissively. "You two have that enigmatic couple vibe going on. It's like you were made for this."

As they spoke, Pansy and Neville approached, Pansy's demeanor shifting to match the lively atmosphere. "What are we talking about?" she asked, her voice light yet curious.

"Just admiring Draco and Hermione's impeccable style," Ginny replied with a grin.

"Good luck topping it," Pansy teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I mean, how could anyone compete with the ethereal beauty of Persephone and her brooding Hades?"

Neville chimed in, his voice warm and supportive. "I think you both look fantastic, really. It's great to see everyone so well dressed and happy."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush slightly at the compliments. "Thank you, Pans. You look absolutely stunning too."

"Cheers to that!" Blaise exclaimed, raising his glass. "Here's to friends who look fabulous!"

As they settled into their conversation, the warmth among them was palpable. Hermione's nerves began to ease, and she felt a sense of belonging wash over her as they all shared laughter and playful banter.

"Who's on the guest list today?" Hermione asked, glancing at Ginny with a hint of curiosity mixed with apprehension.

Ginny scanned the opulent room, her fiery hair catching the sunlight. "The usual suspects, really. Harry and Cho should be here any minute, and Luna and Theo mentioned they'd make an appearance."

A genuine smile broke across Hermione's face. "It'll be good to catch up with them."

"They'll be here soon," Ginny confirmed, glancing at her watch. "Theo mentioned a slight delay, but Luna's fashionably early as always."

Draco's gaze swept the room, his usual stoicism replaced by a relaxed curiosity. "It's good to see some familiar faces again."

"Indeed," Hermione replied, smoothing the emerald folds of her dress. "It has been a while."

Ginny's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Don't worry, Hermione. They'll be thrilled to see you. And seeing you two together…well, let's just say it'll be the highlight of their day."

The air crackled with unspoken anticipation. Hermione and Draco exchanged a silent glance, a promise of support lingering between them.

As if on cue, the double doors swung open, announcing the arrival of Luna. Her signature radish earrings gleamed under the opulent chandelier as she skipped into the room, her radiant smile illuminating her face. "Hello, everyone!" she chirped, her voice like a melody, instantly lightening the atmosphere.

Following close behind was Harry, his familiar scar hidden beneath a shock of messy black hair, and Cho Chang, her raven locks cascading down her back, walking beside him with a shy smile.

Relief washed over Hermione at the sight of her friends. Pushing away the remnants of her nervousness, she rose to greet them with a genuine smile. Harry pulled her into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping her. Years might have passed, adventures shared and scars earned, but the comfort of their friendship remained undimmed.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine joy. "It's been too long."

"Harry," she replied, squeezing him back just as tightly. "Too long indeed. It's wonderful to see you."

Draco watched the interaction with a flicker of approval in his eyes. He straightened in his chair as Harry turned towards him, extending a hand. "Draco," Harry greeted with a nod, his tone devoid of animosity.

"Potter," Draco replied, meeting his handshake firmly.

A smile broke across Luna's face. "Lovely to see you all together!" she declared, her voice brimming with her usual whimsical cheer. "Now, who wants to hear about the Wrackspurts I found nesting in my attic?"

Laughter filled the air as everyone found their seats around the table. The earlier tension began to dissipate, replaced by the comforting warmth of camaraderie. Pansy nestled comfortably next to Neville, feeling grateful for his steady presence, while Hermione found herself sitting beside Draco, relaxing into the moment. Surrounded by loved ones, both old and new, she felt a spark of hope flicker within her.

As the conversation flowed, Hermione's apprehension melted away with each passing moment. Stories were exchanged, laughter punctuated the air, and Neville, ever the thoughtful one, found himself in a surprisingly animated discussion with Theo about their shared love for herbology.

"Have you tried those new plant hybrids?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "I heard they have some unique properties."

Neville nodded eagerly, his passion shining through. "Absolutely! They're fascinating. I think they could have some incredible applications if we can figure out how to cultivate them properly."

An unfamiliar flicker of pride sparked within Hermione as she observed her friends. Across the table, Theo, ever the jester, broke the comfortable silence. "Ah, so the eagle's nest, the lion's cave opening, and the snake's den, all gathered under one roof, huh?" he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes.

Draco chuckled, a sound rarely heard these days. "Looks like we've almost got all the Hogwarts houses covered, wouldn't you say, Potter?"

Harry, ever the Gryffindor, met Draco's gaze with a hint of amusement. "Just missing a loyal Hufflepuff, Malfoy."

A small smile tugged at Hermione's lips. "Perhaps next time," she chimed in, the playful banter warming her heart.

Ginny see all of you together like this. A Hogwarts reunion, in a way, wouldn't you say?"

Theo raised his glass, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "To Hogwarts, surviving the trials it threw our way, and to the unlikely friendships forged in the flames!"

The friends, united by shared history and a bond forged in the crucible of war, clinked their glasses in a toast. The sound echoed through the opulent room, a testament to the enduring power of friendship, love, and the unexpected connections that bloom in the most unlikely places.

Maybe things weren't perfect, but they were getting there. And for now, that was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as they arrived home from the brunch, Pansy was already pacing the living room like a storm about to break. Her face was flushed, her eyes sharp, and Neville could see that familiar glint in her eyes—the one that meant she was brewing for a fight. He shut the door behind them and sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't even taken off his jacket before the barrage began.

"My love," he started carefully, his voice low and calm, hoping to defuse whatever had gotten into her this time. "What's wrong?"

She stopped in her tracks, turning to face him, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of jealousy and frustration. "What's wrong? Are you seriously asking me that right now, Nevie?" Her voice was cold, laced with accusation.

He stood there, staring at her, bewildered. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

She scoffed, shaking her head as she began pacing again, the heels of her shoes clicking against the floor in an agitated rhythm. "You. And that bitch—Hannah or whatever her name is. Do you still like her? 

He blinked, genuinely confused. "What? I haven't thought about Hannah in years. What in Merlin's name are you on about?"

"Answer me!" Her voice rose, cutting through the air like a knife. Her pacing stopped as she planted herself firmly in front of him, demanding an answer. She looked livid, her cheeks flushed with anger, but there was something else beneath the surface—a vulnerability, a fear that Neville couldn't quite place.

"Neville took a deep breath, steadying himself as he watched Pansy pace the room with the fury of a storm ready to break. His heart raced as the tension in the air thickened. He knew her well enough to understand this wasn't about Hannah or Harry, but something deeper—an insecurity, a fear she wouldn't admit.

"I do not," he repeated, more firmly this time, hoping to ground her in the truth. "We dated briefly, ages ago. That's ancient history, Sassy. I don't have any feelings for her. Why are you asking me these ridiculous questions?"

Her whirled around, her eyes burning with frustration. "Ginerva still likes Potter. Have you even looked at them? How they are around each other? They may as well have been alone at brunch with the way they exchanged those looks!"

He frowned, shaking his head. "No, I don't think they do. She's with Blaise now, and that's it."

Pansy let out a bitter laugh, folding her arms across her chest. "And I'm with you because the Ministry decided we were soulmates," she spat, mocking the word. "That doesn't mean they love each other. Just because we're together doesn't mean everyone else magically fits into this perfect box of love and loyalty."

Neville took a step closer, his voice softening but firm. "And it turns out we are soulmates, in every universe, Pansy. You know that. We're proof that the Ministry didn't get it wrong this time. We fit together, like puzzle pieces."

She stopped pacing, her shoulders stiff, and her voice cracked slightly as she replied, "Nevie, I love you so much that there are no words for it. But you need to get back to the original conversation!" Her voice rose again, sharp as a blade. "Don't dismiss what I'm saying just because you think it's 'ridiculous.' I know what I saw. Ginny and Harry—there's something there, and Blaise deserves better than that. We deserve better than that."

He let out a sigh, his patience waning. "Oh my gosh, woman, calm down. You're getting worked up over nothing."

Pansy's eyes flashed with anger, and she stalked toward him, pointing a finger at his chest. "Do NOT call me 'woman' ever again," she hissed.

Immediately, his face softened, regret pouring through him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, Parky. I apologize." He gently reached for her, but she stepped back, still tense.

"Just... please, calm down," he added, his tone now pleading.

She stopped in her tracks, her breath heavy, as if she were battling a storm inside herself. She clenched her fists before exhaling slowly, forcing herself to steady. "It's not about Hannah, or Ginny, or even Potter. It's the fact that... I don't want us to be like them. Caught up in lies, pretending everything's fine when it's not. I see those cracks in other relationships, and I can't help but be afraid they'll show up in ours."

Neville's expression softened as he took another step toward her, this time gently placing his hands on her shoulders. "Parky," he whispered, "we're not like them. We're honest with each other, even when it's hard. You can tell me anything, and I'll always listen. But you have to trust that we're different. That we work because we love each other, not because the Ministry told us to."

Yeah….honest...with each other .

She finally let herself lean into his touch, resting her forehead against his chest. "I don't want to lose you," she admitted in a small voice, one she rarely used, so unlike her usual sharp and confident tone.

"You won't," he promised, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "You won't lose me. Ever."

As they stood there in each other's arms, the heavy silence between them slowly melted away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace. The earlier tension had faded, but the air between them was still thick with unspoken thoughts.

Pansy shifted slightly in his arms, her head resting against his chest as she whispered, "Nevie?"

"Yes, darling?" His voice was soft, patient, as he gently ran his hand through her hair, soothing her.

"If this whole... shit show hadn't happened, would we ever have fallen in love?" There was a vulnerability in her voice that she rarely let slip, her usual confidence replaced by uncertainty.

He paused for a moment, considering her question. He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his brow furrowing in thought. "I highly doubt that," he admitted, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "I mean, I saw you a few times—at Hogwarts, at events—but I don't think there was ever a chance I would've had the courage to actually talk to you."

She looked up at him, her lips curling into a small, bittersweet smile. "That's probably true. You were always so... quiet. And I was—well, let's just say I wasn't exactly approachable." She let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—an old insecurity she hadn't quite shaken off.

"You were intimidating," he confessed with a chuckle, his hands still resting gently on her waist. "But not in the way everyone thinks. You weren't just the girl who sneered at Gryffindors and strutted around like you owned the place. There was always more to you, I just... I never thought I'd be the one to find out."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, her usual sass creeping back into her voice. "Oh, so you were paying attention?"

"How could I not?" He said softly, his eyes warm as they met hers. "You were hard to ignore, Sassy. You always have been."

For a moment, she was silent, her eyes searching his as if trying to piece together the impossibility of their relationship. They were two people who had existed in entirely different worlds, their paths never meant to cross beyond the occasional glance across a crowded room. And yet, here they were—married, in love, bound together in ways they never could have imagined.

"But seriously, Nevie," she murmured, her voice softer now, more contemplative. "If none of this had happened... If the Ministry hadn't forced us together, would we still have found our way to each other? Or would we have just passed each other, forever?"

His face softened, and he gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin in a tender gesture. "I don't know, love. Maybe we wouldn't have. But I don't like to think about that. Because somehow, we're here now. And I think... maybe it was always supposed to happen this way."

She bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I hated you at first," she admitted, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "I thought this whole thing was a joke. Us? Together? It didn't make sense. But then... I don't know, Neville. You just... you're different. You made me feel safe. Seen."

His heart swelled at her words, and he pulled her closer again, resting his chin on top of her head. "You make me feel the same way," he whispered. "I never thought I'd be with someone who understands me like you do. Someone who sees me, really sees me, and still stays."

Her arms tightened around him as she buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled. "I don't know how to do this sometimes. Love. I'm not used to... feeling this much."

"I know," he said softly, stroking her back in slow, comforting circles. "But we're learning together, right? We've both been through hell, but we've come out on the other side, and... I think that counts for something."

She nodded against him, her grip on him tightening as if she was afraid he might slip away. "I just—sometimes I wonder... what if one day it's too much? What if we become like... like all those other couples who fall apart? I can't lose you, Neville."

"You won't lose me," he whispered, his voice full of conviction. "We're not like them. We've fought too hard to get here, to build this. And I'm not going anywhere, no matter what."

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Promise me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I promise," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. "No matter what comes, we'll face it together. You and me, always."

She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay, but one escaped, trailing down her cheek. Neville caught it with his thumb, wiping it away gently before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

For a moment, they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside their small bubble of peace fading away. It was imperfect, messy, and far from the fairy tale they might have once imagined, but it was theirs. And that, they both realized, was more than enough.

"I love you so much," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Parky," he replied, his heart full as he held her close. "Always."