The first time they met after Hogwarts, Pansy was in the mountains in the fuck middle of nowhere on a mission.
Her mark, a coven of dark witches and vampires, lived in the hollowed out mansion beneath the rocks. It was daytime, but the light was weak, and as she extended a tiny little worm of a listening charm through the rocks, she could hear low chatter.
“—I’m hungry,” came a low whine.
“Worry not, sire,” replied a dry voice. “I have two witches fetching a new victim right at this moment. A...stray has wandered up the mountains. Fresh and ripe for the taking.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. Well, she always knew vampires were pretentious and spoilt—even worse than Draco in tiff. Down the crack in the wards where her Eavesdropping Charm had snaked, she cast a nifty little funnel, and apparated herself through it and inside.
She’d only a glance to take in the low flickering firelight, the half-glow of luminous gems, and count the number of eyes that caught the light. With a flick of her wand, she blasted everyone back. An easy Vanishing charm flooded sunlight, and screeches filled the air.
Pansy yawned as she picked off anyone still standing. They were just so slow, and aside from the initial burst of excitement, the round-up was routine and boring as shit.
Remember the two witches who had been sent out, Pansy propelled herself out, her boots charmed with levitation. She spotted the two witches, and yanked them both with a spell that dumped them with the rest of the compatriots.
After a quick Revelio charm, Pansy found the almost-victim: long blond hair, braided with flowers, and humming as they attempted to set up a fair circle on the cold, harsh, hard mountainside.
Pansy’s brows went up, and she sauntered over. “Fancy seeing you here, Lovegood.”
Lovegood turned around, and her face lit up. “Ah, Pansy! You’re here!”
Pansy was taken aback for a second at Lovegood’s happiness. No one was ever that over-the-top pleased by her presence. Forcefully shaking off useless thoughts, Pansy continued over. “Rather close to the coven. You could have become fresh meat,” she drawled.
Lovegood laughed. “Of course not!’
Pansy pursed her lips. She couldn’t tell if she was reluctantly impressed that Lovegood was so carefree—and hence so powerful she wasn’t afraid—or if she wanted to knock Lovegood on the forehead for being empty-headed.
“Just give me a moment, will you?” Lovegood said. She turned back to her circle, sprinkling something unknown. She then stepped back, and started chanting in melodic Japanese.
Pansy was unsurprised. They weren’t in Japan, and the fairies round these parts didn’t speak Japanese. “You should try Russian,” she suggested.
Lovegood gave her a sheepish look. “I never learnt,” she admitted. She glanced back at her circle, and shrugged. Pulling out a notebook, she scribbled something down quickly, before turning back to Pansy.
“Well, nevermind!” she said cheerfully. “Would you like some tea?”
Pansy had barely opened her mouth, before Lovegood unrolled out a picnic blanket, a full Japanese tea set and plates of sweet treats gently settling down.
Pansy closed her mouth. Glanced back at location of the coven, and shrugged inwardly. “I can spare a moment or two,” she replied nonchalantly.
Lovegood smiled, and ducked her head to serve them both tea.
It was Luna’s seventh year, and she sat in the Gryffindor quidditch stands, bundled up in robe sand scarves and hats, as she watched Ginny practice. Luna had an absent smile on her face as she watched Ginny fly. Ginny was brilliant, and Luna loved her so much.
But Ginny was flying, and she’d already secured a position in the Holyhead Harpies. And Luna could not adapt her lifestyle to fit with Ginny’s. After Hogwarts, Luna wanted to travel, to learn magics beyond Europe, to see creatures never seen before, to ask and listen and learn.
Nothing lasts. Change always changes.
That was life, and Luna accepted it, freely living in the moment. But despite herself, her heart was already feeling nostalgic for the gap opening between her and Ginny.
If they no longer spent everyday together, would they still be so close? If they firecalled each day, would that be enough?
But Luna admired Ginny for her dedication, and Ginny was focused on Quidditch.
“Oh, fuck it, what’s up with your expression, Loony—err, Lovegood? Even the war didn’t bring your spirits down.”
Luna startled when Pansy sat down next to her. She had a thick deep blue cloak on, and as Pansy shifted closer, Luna was enveloped in a strong warming charm that felt lovely on her chilled face.
Luna gathered herself together. “Just thinking,” she said, somewhat cautiously.
Pansy pursed her lips, and her gaze was direct and searching.
It felt like it had been a long time since someone was focused on Luna like that.
“Life’s not going to end after Hogwarts, you know,” Pansy finally drawled. “I never took you to be a dramatic queen. I’d reserve that for Draco.”
Luna giggled. “He’s trying his best,” she said.
Pansy gave a non-committal hum. “As pretty as Ginevra Weasley is, I would be bored watching her fly all the time.”
“She’s my best friend!”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Still boring. Lovegood, what do you like to do?”
“A field trip to Faerie Glen,” Luna said promptly.
“...That would be kidnap if I apparated us there,” Pansy said, with a smirk.
Luna straightened up.
“—You’ll have to make do with books for now,” Pansy continued. She supposed half a dozen large coffee table books, filled with cover-to-cover images and informative text.
Luna deflated a little, but accepted the books, filled with images of magical locations around the world. Pansy had summoned some books herself—thick tomes of magical theory, offensive spells and defensive charms. Then, Pansy strengthened the warming charm around them and cast a mild Muffliato too.
Luna had ended up spending a surprisingly relaxing time in the warmth of the charm, in peace and quiet reading company of Pansy Parkinson.
In the end, Pansy never accompanied her to the Faerie Glen, but Luna still kept those books, and steadily visited those locations in person, one by one. It would be years before she met Pansy again.
The second time they met after Hogwarts, Pansy was in a misty forest harvesting dark magic.
The area was steeped in superstitions, and collecting different samples of magic was a hobby of Pansy’s.
She wrinkled her nose when she felt the zing of fresh dark magic. Tucking away her magic samples, she stalked down the source, only to find Luna Lovegood calming dodging the attacks of a dark wizard.
“Stand still,” the wizard hissed, flinging spells that went increasingly wide.
How amatuer, Pansy thought disapprovingly. It was a waste of magic, and Lovegood appeared as though she was dancing.
Pansy flicked a stunner, and the man dropped face first into the ground. After a snappy Incarcerous, Pansy attached one of her special portkeys on him—a one-way trip to the nearest Auror cell.
“Pansy,” Lovegood said, a little breathless. She twirled to a stop, and pushed back messy blond hair.
“Had fun?” Pansy said, frowning at Lovegood’s attitude. “He could have killed you!”
Lovegood tilted her head. “I knew I would be perfectly safe,” she said with absolute confidence. “And I am. I didn’t pack my wand, you see, as I was trying out a delicate ritual. A wand would have disrupted the sensitive flows of magic—”
Pansy stared at her in disbelief. “You came. To a spot with known dark activity. Without a wand.”
“And I’m quite well,” Lovegood smiled. She took a step closer, tilting her head curiously at Pansy. “Oh—you’re worried.”
Pansy’s traitorous heart jumped, and she tilted her head up. “Not at all. You’re lucky I arrived just on time.”
Lovegood smiled brightly, and stepped back in a swirl of whimsical skirts. “Exactly!”
Pansy pinched the bridge of her nose. Ravenclaws, really. “Next time, think of your safety,” she admonished. She glanced down, and noticed the pattern of rocks of the forest floor—which was clearly part of the ritual Lovegood was attempting. With a squint, Pansy picked out the silvery traces of magic, and realised that Lovegood had set down runes to call up the old Fae courts.
Who would be a hundred times worse than a simple fairy circle.
“Lovegood,” Pansy grimaced. “Even the great Minerva McGonagall would have trouble facing down a Fae.”
“I wasn’t going to fight them!” Lovegood said. “There are just so many questions I want to ask them!” Her eyes turned dreamy. “So many…”
“And what would you have given them in return?” Pansy shook her head, and gave a more careful look at the spell. “Thank Morgana it didn’t work.”
At that, Lovegood twirled her hair around her fingers. “I think some of the modern substitutions were not quite suitable,” she admitted. She blinked, and brightened. “Lunch, Pansy? I saw the most wonderful place on my way here.”
“It’s Parkinson to you,” Pansy said absently. Her stomach took the inopportune moment to grumble, and Pansy tried not to flush with embarrassment—as Lovegood’s smile turned a bit too knowing.
“Fine,” Pansy finally said. “You need someone to keep you safe, anyway,” she justified.
“I know,” Lovegood said, completely unworried. She stepped up to Pansy and looped her arm around Pansy’s. Pansy’s breathing became shallow, as she stared at Lovegood. What does she want? Is this all a ploy?
Lovegood, however, appeared guileless. “I saw it,” she said simply.
Pansy’s gaze sharpened. “You saw it.” With that, Pansy relaxed, and a feeling of exasperation took suspicion’s place. “Seer or not, Lovegood, the future is not superdeterminstic. What if I wasn’t here?”
“But you are,” Lovegood said. “I think you’ll find lunch perfect—oh, did you see any night-blossoms on your way—” Lovegood continued on her chatter, all the while firmly leading Pansy.
And Pansy...graciously allowed Lovegood to do so—that was all.
“How can you be sure?” Ginny had asked Luna once, in that year during the War. They were huddled in the Room of Requirement, as were a handful of other students.
“How can you be sure that it’ll be okay?” Ginny clarified. “That it’ll be fine? Harry’s out there, and Hermione and Ron, and we have Death Eaters right here with us!”
“I just know,” Luna said simply, firmly. She grasped Ginny’s hands, and squeezed them tight. “I know we will be well. You will fly green and gold Harpies colours. I will dance in fields carpeted with flowers.”
Ginny didn’t laugh, but eventually, the little corner of her mouth went up. “You always see clearly.”
“Do I?” Luna grinned, and knew that both of them were thinking of her blue-and-red glasses.
Ginny’s voice dropped, and she frowned a little as she became serious again. “But if you know...have you spoken to Trelawney or Firenze? About it?”
Luna blinked. “About prophecies?” She shook her head, smiling. “I don’t see the future as they do.”
She had, actually, spoken to them. Luna believed that both Trelawney and Firenze were her friends, and she liked speaking with them about magic and metaphors. Once, Trelawney had asked her about Seering, and all the tests Luna had good-naturedly done had not been conclusive. Later, Firenze had mentioned that it was better that Luna didn’t see precise futures, anyway, nor recited obscure poems masquerading as prophecies.
“Firenze once told me that my ability to foresee the future was woven into my intuition and conviction,” she said, smiling encouragingly at Ginny. “And that’s all I need.”
Ginny sighed heavily, and pulled up a smile. “So Harry will be okay?”
“He might not be okay right now, but he will be,” Luna confirmed. She tugged Ginny’s hands closer. “And you will be okay.”
“And will you be okay?” Ginny countered.
“Of course,” Luna said.
They had to leave, after that, to join with other members of Dumbledore’s Army (Harry’s Army, Luna thought, would be a more truthful name).
It was that night that Luna was captured by Death Eaters and sent to Malfoy Manor. But Luna wasn’t scared: she knew she would be okay, eventually.
Pansy had lost count by the time she found herself being tugged to a certain location, almost on instinct, but really on a finely tuned sense of danger.
The red-tinted full moon cast dim outlines on the dark bulk objects of the graveyard. Pansy pursed her lips and wove between the headstones. There was the tiniest of humming sounds, that grew louder until Pansy saw Lovegood, long blond hair flowing freely behind her—and unsurprisingly, a dance in her footsteps.
Pansy observed her as she was caught in her own world. And waited. Any moment now—
The earth at Lovegood’s feet erupted, as old stone slid back and a coffin raised.
Despite herself, Pansy was mildly impressed. From now multiple past experiences, the majority of things Lovegood tried out didn’t work—which was the fun of it, according to Lovegood.
A strong pulse of life-mimic magic emanated from Lovegood, and then there was a lot more movement from the previously dead graveyard.
“Oh, do calm down! I have some tea! I thought it would be lovely to talk…” Lovegood called out.
The raised dead made moaning sounds.
Lovegood took it as affirmation, and continued, “Great! I was thinking about the Thestrals, you see—”
Pansy stalked over, feet in sensible, steel-tipped boots stomping down dead folk who were trying to get out. She wrinkled her nose when one of the bodies lunged at Lovegood. With a flick of her wand, Pansy conjured a golden protective shield around Lovegood.
“Oh!” Lovegood turned around to face Pansy. “Good evening, Pansy,” she said.
“Very,” Pansy said drily. She flung a too-close zombie, and grimaced when it went SPLAT on a tombstone a dozen feet away. “What are you trying to do this time?”
Lovegood brightened, and pulled out a notebook and big round, wing-framed glasses. “I have a hypothesis about Thestrals,” she said. “Would someone dead be able to see them? After all, did they not see their own death?”
Pansy raised a brow, and looked pointedly at the animated dead bodies around them. “And you thought making inferi would answer your questions?”
Lovegood laughed. “No, silly!” she said. “I’m practicing necromancy! I need them to be able to answer, after all. And the moon and stars have aligned—it’s perfect.”
“They’re not happy about being alive again,” Pansy snorted. She conjured a new golden shield around them, and the zombies rather mindlessly slammed against the shield.
Lovegood deflated, tucking away her notebook and glasses. “I must have disturbed their sleep.”
“Sleep,” Pansy muttered.
“But it feels wrong to take their lives again,” Lovegood said, sighing.
Pansy rolled her eyes, and sighed. “Very well, Lovegood, I’ll deal with it.” Rolling her shoulders back, Pansy raised her wand and worked her magic.
Bodies died once again, placed back in their coffins and returned to the ground. With a flourish, Pansy cleaned up any dead-body-gunk left lying around.
Lovegood them stepped forward, and in a swirl of white, bundles of flowers appeared at every headstone. “A small apology,” she said. “I hope they’ll accept, and be more amenable next time.”
Next time. Pansy huffed in exasperation. “Lovegood. What if they get you? You’ve not re-animated their original minds—they’ll always seek your life.”
“But they won’t,” Lovegood said, blinking. “Because I know you’ll save me.”
“Seer, right,” Pansy said.
“Would you like some midnight stargazing with me? I have a picnic basket that I prepared earlier.”
Prepared earlier. “Then my participation has already been foreseen,” Pansy said dryly. She swept a hand forward. “Lead the way, my lady moonlight.”
Lovegood’s eyes widened, and Pansy internally winced. When Lovegood’s eyes dipped away, hair moving gently to cover part of her face, Pansy was internally cursing herself.
“...You can call me Luna,” Lovegood finally said.
Pansy cleared her throat and pulled herself together. “Thank you for your graciousness,” she drawled.
Lovegood’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I can hear you calling me Lovegood in your head,” she said lightly.
Pansy wrinkled her nose at Luna. “Happy?” she muttered.
Luna’s smile widened, and her hand slipped into Pansy’s. It was warm and dry, and Pansy was just able to stop herself from yanking out of Luna’s grip. People who aren’t men hold hands all the time, don’t they? Pansy thought, rather desperately. Little kids do it all the time...
“Very,” Luna said, unconcerned. She tugged Pansy along to her previously set up midnight picnic. Floating red lights illuminated a plush picnic blanket, floating trays of finger food and a tea setting, and a pile of soft wool blankets.
Pansy narrowed her eyes. With anyone else, it would be a date. But watching Luna humming to herself as she poured them both tea, Luna wasn’t anyone else.
“You’ll tell me next time you have a trip like this, won’t you?” Pansy asked.
Luna’s smile brightened, and she set down the teapot. “You’ll come with me?”
“I have a full time job,” Pansy said. “But I’ll organise for someone to escort you and make sure you stay out of trouble.”
Luna’s smile dimmed. “Okay,” she said, not meeting Pansy in the eye. “Would you like some cake? It’s passionfruit and coconut.”
“Hm,” Pansy agreed. “How are your cats?” Internally, Pansy gave a sigh of relief when Luna brightened up again.
“Lovely, of course,” she said, “You have to come visit. I’ve adopted a new calico, her name is Starlet, and, oh, she’s adorable—”
Pansy gave her a smile that wasn’t indulgent and ate some cake.
Luna swallowed, her eyes burning and her throat tight. The chains were heavy around her wrists and ankles, and their cold contact on her skin was slowly draining her magic.
I’ll organise for someone to escort you and make sure you stay out of trouble.
Pansy’s words had stayed with her, long after their midnight date.
She knew it, she did. Pansy saw her as a merely stupid, airheaded witch. Someone who failed, time and time again. But Luna didn’t mind failure. Failure just was, and if she never tried, she would never know.
She hadn’t told Pansy of her current trip. Luna knew she would be alright at the end of it, and not all of her trips ended with Pansy helping her.
But instead, as she was gathering plants and flowers in the moonlight, she had been captured and thrown into this cell.
There wasn’t even a window, and it was dark, and despite her best efforts, thoughts of the Malfoy Manor dungeons rose up her throat. Malfoy Manor hadn’t even been that bad—there was company, at least.
But now, Luna felt terribly lonely.
A crack of apparition startled her, and she sucked a short, sharp breath, and winced when soft light filled the cell and illuminated her saviour: Pansy Parkinson, sharp hair and sharp robes, and angry.
“What the fuck, Lovegood?” she growled. “Are you doing this on purpose? Do you even know who captured you? They—I had to call in other agents to help me deal with them!”
Luna tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her eyes cast down.
“Because I know you’ll save me,” Pansy said, mockingly. Her wand slashed down, and the chains on Luna disintegrated. “Can’t you think, for a moment, about your safety? Must I put you on a leash?”
She thinks I’m nothing but a nuisance, Luna realised. She indulges me as though I’m a child. And normally, Luna wouldn’t have minded, she wouldn’t have cared.
But with Pansy, she did care.
“I know what I’m doing,” Luna said quietly, absently massaging her wrists.
Pansy stalked right up to her. “Right,” she said, sarcastic. “Why are you all around the world, alone? Where are your friends? Harry Potter? Ginerva Weasley? You two were attached to the hip back at Hogwarts.”
Luna felt terribly alone.
“Anyone could hurt you. I could hurt you,” Pansy hissed. “And you don’t even seem to care!”
Luna clenched her fingers, and raised her head defiantly. “They’re busy,” she said, sharper than she’d ever spoken before. “Harry works so hard being an Auror, and Ginny’s always on her Quidditch tours and training. But this is my research. I know what I’m capable of, Pansy.”
Pansy flinched. “So. I’m your back-up. Third choice, at best. Is this all a ploy to get my attention?”
Luna couldn’t answer, and Pansy’s expression darkened, lips thinning.
“I see,” Pansy said coldly. She handed Luna back her wand, and Reducto’ed the cell bars. “This way out, my lady,” she said.
As though Pansy found it too repulsive to sidealong Luna out.
Luna pulled her calmness and whimsical happiness around her like armour, and smiled at Pansy. “Thank you,” she said.
Pansy walked alongside her, past dozens of other cells, up to the main building where a cluster of agents dressed like Pansy were corralling the people who had captured Luna.
“Cheers for the tip-off, Parkinson,” one of the agents said. “We’ve been trying to hunt these bastards down for years.”
Pansy gave them a tight smile. “All in a day’s work. I’m escorting their last prisoner out,” she added, nodding towards Luna.
The other agents turned back to their investigation.
“How did you find me?” Luna asked.
“Does it matter?” Pansy said sharply. “You could have been worse than killed in there!”
She’s just angry because she cares, Luna tried to tell herself. It didn’t help.
“I dropped a tracking charm on you, just in case,” Pansy muttered. “And thank Morgana I did! I told you to inform me!”
“...Is that all I am to you?” Luna said quietly.
Pansy’s eyes widened. “What? No.” She sighed. “Luna.”
Luna took Pansy’s hands in hers. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “I’m in your way, I won’t concern you again.”
“Oh, fuck,” Pansy said. “Look. Luna. How about we—”
“—Parkinson! A question!” called out a voice.
“I know you feel like you should offer to have a meal with me,” Luna said, keeping a smile on her face. “But you’re busy working. There’s no need to worry about me.”
Pansy scowled. “Of course I worry about you.” Her lips tightened. “Get home safe,” she finally said.
Luna let go of Pansy’s hands and stepped back. “I will.” With that, she apparated away.
Time slipped through Pansy’s fingers as that uncovering of the magic trafficking ring that Luna had been caught in turned into a cascade of investigations and flurry of arrests.
Luna was on her mind—of course she was—given that Pansy was so aware that Luna’s nature had led to the very work that was currently consuming her life.
And while Luna often got herself into trouble, Pansy didn’t mind helping her out. The world wouldn’t be the world without Luna’s playful presence, and if Luna was sad, then the world had no hope.
She remembered the times she had to save Luna, yes. But she also remembered the time afterwards, their shifting conversations, and Luna’s bright optimism that inadvertently seeped into Pansy, and made life worth it.
“Knock, knock,” someone said, and opened the door to Pansy’s office at the Ministry.
Pansy looked up from her reports and glared at her intruder, one Daphne Greengrass.
“I’m busy,” she said sharply.
Daphne sonrted, raising her nose in the air. “Your office stinks, Pans,” she said bluntly. “I never took you be a swot and live in your office.”
Eyes narrowed, Pansy found her pile of completed reports and sent them flying at Daphne’s face. Daphne caught them swiftly, a smirk on her face.
“Oh, hit a sore spot?” she drawled, flipping through the reports idly. “I’ll get these filed.”
Daphne huffed, and strode over to Pansy’s desk. “Pans,” she said. “What the fuck is up with you these days? You need to talk to someone—”
Pansy rolled her eyes, hard.
“Am I going to have to call an intervention and owl Draco? Blaise? Or even worse—Millicent?”
Pansy could predict what would happen: she would get maudlin together with Draco; she’d find themselves in beautiful places with beautiful people with Blaise; and Millicent would put her hands on her hips and threaten Pansy to get her life together or else.
Only Millicent would lead her to solve her problems, but she didn’t want to.
Daphne clicked her fingers in Pansy’s face. “Go and take a fucking bath,” she said, “And I’m officially moving some of your work load to the newbies.”
“You suck,” Pansy said, but stood up nonetheless. “If any of my reports are late...it’ll be your fault.”
Daphne waved airily. “Anything would be better than the dark cloud around you.” She leaned in, and added, “And don’t be an idiot like Draco and pine for a decade.”
Pansy gave her a deadpan look. “Thanks ever so, darling.”
Pansy still had her tracker on Luna, so finding her was easy—the countryside, on a large property.
Luna was waiting for her at the gate, a large black cat slung over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, and flowing skirts swayed in the light breeze.
“Diablo,” Pansy recalled, from Luna’s tales. The black cat Diablo yawned, and slinked of Luna’s shoulder and onto the post of the gate, fixing black eyes on Pansy. Luna smiled, opening the gate for Pansy to step through. Diablo jumped down and loped away.
“I have tea in the garden,” Luna said, turning her head towards the house.
“I think we have a misunderstanding,” Pansy said bluntly.
Luna turned back, head tilting slightly. “Do we?”
For a moment, words caught in Pansy’s teeth. But then—oh, fuck it.
“It’s not a bother for me to find you,” Pansy said. “If anything, I welcome seeing you.”
Luna’s eyes widened, her hands curling up at her chest.
“...And seeing you makes my day better,” Pansy admitted.
Luna slowly brightened like the rising sun. “Because we’re friends.”
“Yes,” Pansy said.
And she meant it. Friendships amongst Slytherins weren’t taken lightly, and that hadn’t changed since Hogwarts. Acquaintances, allies, and work mates—there, the lines of debt and repayment were clear. Friendship was much more nebulous, as the conditionality of the relationship became increasingly faded.
The understanding of the depth was clear in Luna’s eyes.
“Friends,” Luna said, gravely. She gave a sheepish smile. “If I wanted to see you...I should have owled, instead.”
“I should have been the older, responsible one and owled you, rather than waiting for you to get into trouble again,” Pansy countered. “Not even you can be perfect.”
Luna gave a rueful smile, curling her fingers in her hair.
Pansy bit back a smile. “So, what have you been doing lately?”
“Writing a book,” Luna said. “I’ve gathered quite a large number of notes.”
“—On fairy rituals and the dead?”
Luna laughed. “Yes, indeed.” She took a step closer.
Pansy met her gaze evenly, took a step closer herself, and held a hand, palm up. “My lady,” she said deeply. “Discussion over tea?”
Luna tilted her head back, and laughed, soft and bright. “My knight,” she said, smiling as she placed her hand on Pansy’s. “Lead our way.”
“I’ve never been to your house,” Pansy pointed out.
“Oh, but it would be a fun tour, then,” Luna said easily.
Pansy rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the feeling of low amusement, exasperation and indulgence in her chest. “Your house doesn’t happen to be booby trapped?”
Luna blinked. Pansy smirked. And Luna giggled.
“You’ll just have to see!” she said, curling her fingers with Pansy’s.
Pansy’s chest warmed. We’ll just have to see, indeed.
🌺 The End 🌙