e : the welcome party / t : 4pm & after the potions orientation / l : just outside the potions classroom / p : @pnsyprkn
pansy - pansy pansy .. pansy. the lead in his stomach was growing heavier and thicker with every passing day, every passing hour, since she had seen him shuffle out of draco’s room, shirt half-buttoned and hair undeniably mussed.
neville looks at the weight, looks at pansy, looks at draco, and the inside of his lip starts bleeding from where he’s chewed on it for too long, and he looks at blaise, then back at pansy. ( he thinks the weight is guilt but doesn’t know how he can break it up and swallow it, not sure how large it’s allowed to grow, it should be growing )
it had been a few days already since they’d accidentally made eye contact as he’d passed through the common room, and he knew that she knew in an instant, recognition and understanding flitting through her eyes, because how could she not? but it had been a few days and still no-one knew, but did this mean she’d never tell blaise?
it’s a secret, because it has to be, because draco wants it to be, and neville can’t push, not here, not with that half-feral look in his eyes, a look neville tries his hardest to not inflame, soothing comfort for healing for now instead.
it’d break blaise’s heart, and perhaps that’s reason enough.
so pansy can’t tell blaise, but she won’t know not to unless neville asks her. it takes the remainder of the potion’s orientations for him to come to that decision, and the rest for him to drum up the confidence.
he swallows his anxiety and let’s it stir up acid in his stomach, but he taps pansy on the shoulder as they all exist the classroom, motions draco to go ahead and steps into a side corridor. he shoves his hands into his pockets, head tucked down as he takes a breath, then squares his shoulders and gives pansy a tight smile.
