Gathering for Little Wonders

Pansy could barely contain the sheer elation coursing through her as she practically danced around the living room, her steps light, her laughter bright. The moment she had received the owl, she had let out an ecstatic squeal that sent Lady into an absolute frenzy—her tiny pug body wriggling in confusion, snorting indignantly at the sudden burst of energy in the room. But Pansy couldn't help it. Luna had given birth. Baby Lysander was here, healthy and perfect. The news sent warmth surging through her chest, an overwhelming wave of joy swelling at the thought of her dearest friend stepping into motherhood.

"Luna's had her baby!" she shrieked, spinning on the spot, her robes flaring around her as she grabbed Lady Lemongrass and lifted her into the air, twirling the increasingly disgruntled pug in an impromptu waltz. "A beautiful, perfect little boy, and they've named him Lysander! Can you believe it, Nevie?" She turned toward him, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. "Our Luna is a mother!"

Across the room, Neville looked up from his desk, where his herbology notes now sat forgotten, his quill still hovering midair. The grin that stretched across his face was instant. He loved seeing her like this—unfiltered, untamed in her joy. Pansy felt things so deeply, with a passion that could fill an entire room. It was one of the things he loved most about her. Setting his quill aside, he crossed the space between them in a few easy strides, his hands finding her waist just as she bounced up on her toes with glee.

"Lysander," he mused, pressing a kiss to her temple, his voice warm with approval. "It's a strong name. Full of life." He exhaled a soft chuckle, already picturing the new family. "Luna is going to be incredible, and Theo... well, I bet he's already wrapped around that little boy's finger."

She turned in his arms, her own wrapping around his neck, her expression gleaming with delight. "Theo? Oh, absolutely," she said, laughing. "That man has spent his whole life acting like he's immune to sentiment, but just wait until Lysander grabs his finger for the first time—he'll melt into a puddle, mark my words. He's probably already plotting ways to keep him away from any bad influences." She smirked knowingly. "Which, unfortunately, includes me."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You? A bad influence? Perish the thought."

She huffed dramatically. "I am an excellent influence, thank you very much." But then, her voice softened, her eyes flickering with something deeper than amusement. "Luna's going to be extraordinary. She's been waiting for this, you know? That baby is going to grow up wrapped in the kind of love most people can only dream of." She tilted her head, smiling wistfully. "And not just the kind from his parents, but from all of us. He's going to have an entire family standing behind him, spoiling him, loving him."

She could already picture it—Lysander's world would be filled with wonder. Luna, with her ethereal wisdom and infinite kindness, would weave magic into the very fabric of his life. There would be bedtime stories filled with tales of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and whispered lullabies about the stars. And Theo… Theo, who had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, would finally understand what it meant to belong to something greater than himself. He would be soft in ways he never imagined possible.

The thought filled her with an ache—one made of overwhelming happiness.

With a flick of her wand, a cascade of pastel-colored streamers burst into the air, swirling around the room in delicate spirals. "We have to go immediately, Nevie! We need gifts—oh, we must find something perfect for Lysander! Something that screams he's part of this fabulous circle of ours."

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he tightened his hold around her. "Why don't we let Luna rest first?" he suggested, his tone teasing yet firm. "We'll visit soon enough, but for now, maybe we should celebrate with just the two of us?"

She sighed dramatically, resting her head against his chest. "You are right," she admitted, though her excitement barely dimmed. "But I need to do something! I want them to know how happy I am for them—how much love I already have for that little boy."

Neville smiled, brushing his fingers along her spine in soothing strokes. "And there will be plenty of time for that, love. Lysander is going to know, without a doubt, that he has the best godmother and godfather in the world."

She beamed up at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know that's right! That kid is going to be spoiled beyond reason. None of that boring baby nonsense—we're talking designer onesies and charm-infused mobiles, thank you very much!"

Neville let out a laugh, shaking his head. "I have no doubt Lysander will appreciate your impeccable taste."

As they swayed together in the middle of their living room, her mind raced with possibilities—grand celebrations, extravagant gifts, ridiculous traditions that she would undoubtedly enforce upon Lysander the moment he was old enough to roll his eyes at her. But beneath it all, deeper than the excitement and plans, was something much more profound.

Gratitude.

For this life. For these friendships. For the family they had built from the ashes of the past.

A new chapter was beginning, filled with love, laughter, and endless new memories waiting to be made. And Pansy, with every fiber of her being, was ready.

~~~~~~

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 Lemongrass to roam free as she excitedly bounded into the living room, eager to explore. "Luna, you look radiant. How's my little godson 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. It's good to have everyone here."

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 Lemongrass 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, ever the gracious hostess, 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 Lemongrass 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 Lemongrass, 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 Lemongrass 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.

~~~~~~

The sun rose on the day of their wedding, casting a golden glow over Parkinson Manor, where the sprawling estate had been transformed into a breathtaking dreamscape. Morning light spilled across the grounds like liquid gold, illuminating every carefully curated detail with an almost otherworldly radiance. The entire garden seemed to hum with anticipation, as if nature itself held its breath for the momentous occasion.

The entrance to the garden was nothing short of a masterpiece. Towering floral arches—woven from the finest roses, orchids, and peonies imported from the farthest corners of the world—formed a breathtaking passageway. The flowers, rich in hues of crimson, blush pink, and ivory, cascaded like waterfalls of silk, their intoxicating scent perfuming the air. Delicate ribbons of emerald green and pearlescent ivory fluttered from the archways, catching the soft breeze like whispers of enchantment.

A grand aisle stretched through the heart of the garden, no ordinary path but a vision of artistry. Beneath each step, a plush white carpet shimmered with the embroidered crests of the Parkinson and Longbottom families, golden threads gleaming beneath the sunlight. Alongside it, towering arrangements of white lilies and hydrangeas stood atop crystal vases, their petals enchanted to glow softly as if kissed by stardust. Overhead, countless enchanted fairy lights twinkled like suspended stars, their glow unfazed by daylight, weaving an atmosphere of pure magic.

At the far end of the aisle, where love and legacy would intertwine, stood the ceremony's focal point. A breathtaking canopy of silvered branches and cascading wisteria framed the altar, the delicate blossoms swaying as if whispering their blessings. The altar itself, carved from pristine white marble veined with delicate gold, stood as a testament to the timeless elegance that defined Pansy Parkinson. Rare enchanted blooms, shimmering with an ethereal glow, adorned its surface, their petals shifting colors ever so slightly in the sunlight. Behind it, an opulent crystal fountain sent ribbons of water into a shimmering pool, reflecting the entire garden in its mirror-like surface, making the scene feel infinite—like a dream that refused to end.

Rows of gold and silver chairs, each adorned with velvet cushions and delicate satin bows, stood in flawless symmetry, awaiting the arrival of the guests. As if the beauty of the garden itself wasn't enough, a soft symphony of melodies filled the air—a harpist strumming the most delicate notes, blending seamlessly with the gentle chirps of exotic birds charmed to sing harmoniously from their golden cages.

No detail had been overlooked. No expense had been spared.

Crystal chandeliers, suspended from the ancient oak trees, caught the afternoon light, refracting it into delicate prisms that danced across the garden like fleeting spirits. At the estate's edge, where the garden met the manor, an open-air pavilion stood in elegant grandeur, its enchanted glass roof set to transform into a celestial spectacle come nightfall, mirroring the constellations above.

But for all its extravagance, there was something deeply intimate about the setting. Beyond the grandeur, beyond the splendor, there was warmth—a sense that this wasn't just a lavish display but a love story woven into the very fabric of the garden itself. Every detail, every flower, every flicker of candlelight had been chosen with purpose, a reflection of the journey that had led them here.

And as the golden morning stretched toward the promise of forever, the garden stood ready, waiting to bear witness to the union of two souls who had once been strangers, once been rivals, but who had, against all odds, found home in each other.

~~~~~~

Inside the grand suite of Parkinson Manor, a whirlwind of excitement unfolded, crackling with energy and anticipation. Pansy stood at the center of it all, surrounded by the laughter and chatter of the women who had become her family. The morning light streamed through the tall windows, bathing the room in a golden glow, making the emerald silk of her gown shimmer like sunlight dancing on water.

The dress—an exquisite phthalo green creation—flowed around her like liquid silk, the intricate lace and delicate beading catching the light in just the right way. It was elegant, striking, and completely her . Every stitch, every thread had been chosen with purpose, designed to make her feel powerful and radiant. And yet, despite the stunning gown, despite the opulence of the day, she couldn't shake the sense of disbelief settling in her chest.

She was getting married.

"Pansy, you look absolutely radiant!" Hermione breathed, stepping back to admire her. There was a rare reverence in her voice, a quiet awe that made Pansy's heart tighten. For years, they had been adversaries, then reluctant allies, and now—friends. The weight of that journey wasn't lost on either of them, and in Hermione's voice, Pansy heard something deeper than just a compliment. She heard pride, love, and the unspoken acknowledgment of how far they had come.

"Just wait until Neville sees her," Ginny chimed in, her eyes alight with mischief. She adjusted Pansy's veil with careful hands, the same hands that had once thrown hexes in her direction. Now, they straightened lace, ensuring perfection. "I swear, he might actually faint."

Pansy smirked, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in her stomach. "Oh, please. Longbottom doesn't have the luxury of fainting. He still has to make it through the vows without tripping over his own feet."

Ginny laughed, shaking her head. "Still keeping him on his toes, huh?"

"Obviously," Pansy quipped, but her voice softened. "But honestly? I think he'll be fine."

"Of course he will," Luna interjected, her voice airy yet knowing. She floated closer, placing a gentle hand on Pansy's arm. "This isn't just a wedding. It's a celebration of love, of everything you've built together. You are surrounded by people who adore you, and Neville is waiting for you at the end of that aisle, ready to start forever with you. What could be more perfect than that?"

Luna's words settled over Pansy like a balm, steadying the rapid beat of her heart. She turned to the ornate mirror, catching her own reflection—the poised woman staring back was so different from the girl she once was. The girl who had been raised to believe love was transactional, that marriage was duty, that power came from alliances rather than choice.

And yet, here she stood. Chosen. Loved.

Her breath hitched, emotion swelling in her throat. "I'm getting married," she whispered, the words tasting foreign yet so right.

"Yes, you are," Hermione said, grinning. "And you are ridiculously late for your own wedding, so I suggest you stop getting sentimental before you ruin that flawless makeup."

Pansy laughed, dabbing at the corner of her eye before any tears could fall. "Merlin, you're right. I don't have time for this."

"That's the spirit!" Ginny said, grabbing her bouquet and pressing it into her hands. "Now, go dazzle everyone."

Pansy turned to her friends, taking them in—their excitement, their unwavering support, the unshakable love that had woven them all together. They had been her fiercest rivals, her greatest challenges, and now, they were her sisters in all but blood.

"I couldn't have done this without you," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "You've all been my rocks."

Hermione stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug. "We'll always be here for you, Pansy. No matter what."

Ginny joined in, wrapping her arms around them both. "Absolutely. This is just the beginning of a beautiful journey."

Luna placed a hand over theirs, her eyes misty but full of warmth. "You're stepping into a new chapter, and I can't wait to see all the magic it brings."

A lump formed in Pansy's throat, but she swallowed it down, pulling back with a smirk. "Alright, enough of that! I refuse to have a blotchy face in my wedding photos."

Laughter bubbled up around them, the tension breaking as the final touches were made—a spritz of her signature perfume, a delicate adjustment of her veil. As the last adjustments fell into place, she caught one final glimpse of herself in the mirror, her heart pounding with exhilaration.

And then, her thoughts drifted to Neville. Her steady, kind, wonderful Neville. He had always been her rock, her safe harbor in the storm, and now, he was about to become her forever.

A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips.

It was time.

~~~~~~

In a nearby suite, Neville paced relentlessly, his polished shoes scuffing against the gleaming marble floor. His fingers fumbled with the cufflinks of his phthalo green dress robes—the very shade meant to complement Pansy's gown. The color, rich and regal, was supposed to symbolize renewal, a future woven in love. But standing before the grand mirror, all he could see was a man barely keeping it together. His reflection stared back, mirroring the storm of anxiety brewing inside him.

His mind raced, each thought colliding with the next. What if I trip walking down the aisle? What if I forget my vows? What if I stand there like an idiot while she looks at me, expecting something grand? What if…

He exhaled sharply, pressing his hands against his face in frustration. Through the thick walls of Parkinson Manor, the distant sound of laughter and excited chatter drifted in, a reminder of the celebration already in full swing. He could picture it—guests taking their seats, music filling the air, Pansy in the next room, breathtaking and confident, waiting to walk down the aisle. And him? He felt like his heart might just give out from nerves alone.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to breathe, but it was easier said than done.

The door creaked open, and Theo strolled in, casual as ever, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "Relax, Longbottom," he drawled, leaning lazily against the doorframe. "You look like you're preparing for battle, not a wedding."

Neville let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Feels like one." He resumed his pacing, his hands twitching at his sides. "What if I mess this up, Theo? What if I say the wrong thing, or—or I'm not enough for her?"

Theo's expression softened as he stepped forward, clapping a firm hand on Neville's shoulder. "Listen, mate. Parkinson fell for you, not some rehearsed, picture-perfect version of you. She doesn't want flawless. She wants you. The same guy who managed to tame her stubborn ass, who stands his ground with her, who makes her laugh even when she pretends she doesn't want to. Trust me, the moment she sees you standing there, she won't care about a single word of your vows—she'll just care that it's you saying them."

Neville swallowed, the words settling deep in his chest, quieting the storm just a little.

Before he could reply, the door swung open again, and Draco entered, radiating his usual air of composure. His sharp grey eyes scanned the room before landing on Neville, arching a perfectly unimpressed eyebrow. "Merlin's bloody beard, Longbottom. You look like you're about to vomit."

Neville groaned, raking a hand through his hair. "Well, I feel like I'm about to."

Draco snorted, shaking his head as he adjusted the cuffs of his own tailored suit. "You're getting married, not marching to your doom. Honestly, I don't know why you're so worried. We all know Pansy's been planning this day since she was five. You could probably just stand there, say I do, and she'd handle the rest."

Theo chuckled. "He's not wrong."

He exhaled, forcing himself to chuckle too, but the nerves still sat heavy on his chest. "It's not just about the ceremony," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "It's about us. I want everything to be perfect for her."

Draco's smirk softened, his gaze turning more thoughtful. "Perfection is overrated," he said simply. "What matters is the way you look at her. Pansy's never needed grand speeches or perfection—she's needed someone who sees her, who stands by her, who loves her despite every flaw she pretends she doesn't have."

Neville hesitated, letting the words sink in. He had spent so much time worrying about getting everything right, but Draco was right—Pansy didn't need perfect. She needed him.

Theo clapped his hands together. "Exactly! And let's be honest, mate, if you did trip, she'd just laugh, call you an idiot, and marry you anyway."

Neville groaned, but this time, he was smiling. "I hate that you're probably right."

"I am right," Theo said smugly, straightening Neville's tie with a flourish. "Now stop pacing before you put a hole in the carpet."

Taking a steadying breath, Neville turned to the mirror once more. This time, he didn't see a man drowning in nerves—he saw a man standing on the edge of something incredible.

"I can do this," he said, straightening his shoulders. "I want this."

Draco smirked. "Good, because backing out would've been an inconvenience for everyone involved."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Ignore him. He means 'we're proud of you.'"

Neville shook his head, exhaling one last breath as he turned to his friends. "Thanks, both of you. I needed this."

Draco gave him a firm nod, while Theo clapped him on the back once more.

"Alright, Longbottom," Draco said, his smirk returning. "Time to get you married."

With their unwavering support surrounding him, Neville felt something shift inside him—nerves giving way to excitement, fear making room for something far stronger.

This was it.

The moment he had been waiting for.

Straightening his tie one last time, he took a deep breath and stepped toward the door, ready to walk into the next chapter of his life.

~~~~~~

The music swelled, a gentle, enchanting melody that wrapped around the garden like a spell. Guests turned in their seats, anticipation thick in the air. At the entrance, Pansy took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around her father's arm. She had spent weeks envisioning this moment, preparing for it down to the most meticulous detail, but now that it was here, the reality of it stole her breath away.

Her gaze lifted, searching for him. And there he was.

Neville stood at the altar, dressed in phthalo green robes that complemented the deep emerald hues of her gown. His broad shoulders were squared, but his hands trembled ever so slightly at his sides. And his face— oh, his face —was awash with raw emotion. Love. Awe. A quiet kind of reverence that made her heart stutter in her chest.

As she stepped forward, time seemed to slow. The golden afternoon light filtered through the wisteria, casting dappled shadows across the aisle, but she barely noticed. The scent of fresh roses and jasmine filled the air, the hushed murmurs of guests blending into the distant hum of the breeze, but it was all a blur.

All she could see was him.

With each step, she felt herself being pulled toward him, as if the universe had carved a path just for the two of them.

Neville swallowed hard as she reached him, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Merlin, you're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

She smirked, her lips curving upward even as she blinked away her own tears. "I know."

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest, and his hands—warm and steady—reached for hers. He squeezed them, grounding himself in her touch. "I can't believe this day is finally here," he murmured, his gaze locked onto hers as if he were afraid to look away.

"I've always dreamed of this moment," she admitted, her voice softer now, laced with something deeper than excitement— certainty .

Neville exhaled shakily. "Me too. Though I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have you."

Pansy arched an elegant brow. "Lucky? Nevie, I handpicked you."

He grinned at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "And I'll spend the rest of my life proving you made the right choice."

Their guests faded into the background, the entire world narrowing down to just the two of them as the officiant began to speak.

The ceremony unfolded like poetry. Every vow exchanged was thick with emotion, every whispered promise laced with devotion. Pansy's voice was unwavering as she spoke, the words tumbling from her lips like a spell woven just for him.

"I vow to love you in all your forms," she said, her fingers tightening around his. "To stand beside you, to challenge you, to grow with you. You are my home, my peace, and my greatest adventure. And I promise to never let you forget that."

Neville's voice was hoarse, weighed down by the emotion he could barely contain. "You saw me when I was still learning to see myself," he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles against her palm. "You loved me before I knew how to love myself. And I promise to love you in return, fiercely, endlessly, without hesitation. You are the fire in my veins, the light in my darkest moments, and the greatest thing that has ever happened to me."

Tears shimmered in her dark eyes, but she held his gaze, steady and certain.

"By the power vested in me…" The officiant's voice rang through the garden. "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The moment his lips met hers, the world erupted into thunderous applause, but Pansy barely heard it. She was weightless, floating in a sea of love, her heart bursting at the seams.

She was home.

As dusk settled over Parkinson Manor, the reception unfolded in a whirlwind of laughter and celebration. Twinkling fairy lights draped the trees, their glow casting a dreamlike haze over the garden. Music swirled through the night air, and the scent of rich wine and decadent pastries filled the space between soft murmurs and joyous toasts.

Then came their moment.

The first dance.

Neville led her onto the dance floor, his hands resting securely on her waist, hers draped effortlessly around his shoulders. The soft melody of their chosen song wrapped around them, cocooning them in something private, something sacred.

She pressed her forehead against his, her voice barely above a whisper. "We did it, Sassy," he murmured, twirling her effortlessly. "We really did it."

She laughed, the sound rich and full of life. "Yes, we did, my love. And this is just the beginning."

Neville gazed at her, his thumb tracing idle patterns against the silk of her gown. "I still can't believe you're mine."

She smirked, tilting her head playfully. "Oh, you're very much stuck with me now, Longbottom."

He grinned. "Good."

Around them, their friends filled the dance floor—Ginny twirled in Blaise's arms, Theo swayed with Luna, and Draco stood off to the side, rolling his eyes at the sheer amount of sentimentality.

But Pansy and Neville remained in their own little world.

Later, when the music had softened and the guests were lost in conversation and revelry, they slipped away.

Hand in hand, they stood at the edge of the garden, where the lanterns dimmed and the stars stretched endlessly above them. The night was cool, the kind that kissed bare skin with the whisper of a promise.

Neville turned to her, his expression suddenly serious, his fingers tightening around hers. "I promise to always take care of you," he said, his voice reverent. "To always be by your side, no matter what."

She swallowed, something thick and unnameable settling in her throat. "And I promise to always lift you up, to bring out the best in you, and to love you fiercely for all my days."

For a long moment, they simply stood there , their love stretching between them like a golden thread tethering their souls together.

Then, slowly, Neville reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face before cupping her cheek. "I love you," he whispered.

She leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with so much love she thought it might consume her. "I love you too, Nevie. Always."

His lips met hers in the quiet hush of the night, sealing their promises, their devotion, their forever.

The celebration stretched on, filled with laughter, love, and the kind of joy that only comes from knowing you've found your person in a world of chaos.

And as Pansy and Neville stood there, wrapped in the glow of their love, they knew—

This was only the beginning.