Title: But Nothing Is Simple
Author:
quietlibanPrompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: #50 Influence
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and characters contained therein are property of JK Rowling and her associated publishers. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made.
Summary: It can't be simple. It can't just be her, Neville and this cottage.
Author's Note: For
100quills. Other ficlets in this series can be found
here. Flansgt this time. See, I told you the fluff wouldn't last.
It can't be simple. Pansy knows that, even now. It can't be simple. It can't be just them; her, Neville and this cottage.
She sits on the front doorstep watching the wind blow through the leaves of Neville's vegetable garden. The sky is clear and the sun is bright, but the wind is cold and Pansy sighs.
No, it can't be simple. It can't be simple because there's Potter who owns this cottage, and there's Granger who fills Pansy with rage whenever someone mentions her name, and there's Molly Weasley who seems to have adopted her, and there's Luna who couldn't make sense even if she tried, and it's not as simple as her, Neville and this cottage. It's never been as simple. Ever. Even before she and Neville became 'Neville and Pansy,' because there were things before that, and Pansy hates that she can remember those things.
Pansy closes her eyes. Those things are done with now; all of them. She presses her thumb to the solid band of gold around the ring finger of her left hand.
They've made it. The thought enters her mind and Pansy wonders if they have. They're married now. She's Pansy Longbottom.
"Pansy?" Neville calls her name, and Pansy hesitates before answering, casting a glance at the vegetable garden.
"Out the front," she yells, her eyes focused on the dark brown transplanted soil.
"Oh." Neville is looking down at her, and he smiles. "What are you doing out here?"
She shrugs. "Thinking."
Neville sits next to her, and takes her hand. Neville's warm and Pansy leans her head on his shoulder.
"I can take the job, you know," he says and Pansy shakes her head softly. She doesn't want to talk about this.
"You said it would be running away," she tells him and pulls away.
"And you said it would be starting anew."
Pansy smiles bitterly. "It would."
"Do we need to?"
Pansy sighs. "Yes. There's too much…" she waves her hand at the cottage, at the garden, at the sky.
"I love you," he says suddenly.
Pansy stares at him. That isn't what this is about. It's never been about that. It's about the war, about her mother's murder, about Draco's betrayal, about Granger's breakdown, about what his friends think. It's about the Past. It isn't about what Neville's feelings towards her are.
"I know."
"Good."
Pansy squeezes his hand. "We’re married," she says.
Neville shakes his head at her. "I know."
"We can't stay here."
"Because we're married?" he asks.
Pansy sighs. "Because it's Potter's."
Neville doesn't reply. He gets up and moves towards his garden. Pansy watches him. She watches him as he checks each plant, moving through them with ease.
"We could stay in England," she says. Neville looks up at her. "We don't have to move to Barcelona."
Neville stops then and looks at her. "It's not that."
Pansy stands then, and moves towards him. Her feet sink into the soft soil, and she can feel the dirt's texture against her bare skin. She stands in front of him now. Her toes nearly touch the tip of his boots.
Neville brushes his thumb against her cheek and Pansy breathes in, taking in his scent and the smell of the garden and the dirt. "This is ours," he says.
Pansy leans closer to him and wraps her arms around him. She pushes up against the soil so her lips are next to Neville's ear.
"Spain could be ours too."