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Chapter Text

Pansy loved to moderate the debates on the Wireless. It was one of her favourite things after the Blooming Motherhood by Pansy Longbottom became a weekly occurrence instead of a daily one. 

And they were all a success. 

It did not matter if they were hosted at 8 in the morning or 10 at the night, or lunch hour. She was good at moderating them because she was The Brightest Bitch of Her Age, and she could make the participants shut with just a look.

Her next debate would be about the new International Policies and how they implicated the Statute of Secrecy. Someone from the Department of International Magical Cooperation, a wizard called Edward Scot.

Everything changed that morning when she arrived at the Wireless Headquarters. Neville kissed her at the door, wishing her a good day at work before apparating to the Ministry. 

“Pansy, there’s someone here to see you. They’re waiting in your office,” Lea, her assistant, said. And she sounded terrified. 

The former Slytherin rushed forward to see who had scared her lovely assistant, to find Hermione Granger-Malfoy, leaning against her desk. An enormous basket of chocolates and other sweets, as well as a beautiful white orchid vase.

“Minister, this does not sound like an informal visit, does it, Granger? Has my best friend fucked up something?” The former Slytherin asked, greeting Hermione with a kiss on both cheeks.

“Pansy. No, Draco is wonderful as always. He’s at home with Mimosa and Perseus. And yes, I’m visiting you because of a professional matter.” Hermione agreed.

“Is this a bribery?” she asked, touching the flowers, “If it is, you failed, Granger… this is not good enough to catch my attention.” 

“No, nothing like that, Pansy. Just a friendly visit and I couldn’t come empty-handed,” the Gryffindor assured, but Pansy didn’t believe her for a moment.

“What do you need, Hermione? Have any of our children got in trouble? Do you need me to approach Neville with any subject? Spit it out!” Pans said, sitting behind her desk and getting her notes from the folder.

“The debate, tonight. I would like to be present,” the other witch said.

“No!” 

“Pansy, please! My input would be much more interesting than Edwards…” she said, looking at her with what she assumed were the puppy eyes that Draco mentioned so many times before. But Pansy was a grown woman with two children of her own. Puppy eyes meant nothing to her. 

“No chance, Granger. I don’t want people to get bored out of their mind and disconnect the station to hear the silly fast food music on the other syntonization,” she explained.

“I’ll be short. I’ll go straight to the point. I promise!” 

“I don’t believe you-”

Hermione interrupted, untying her satin stole. “I will make an Unbreakable vow with you, Pansy. Once you tell me my time is over, I’ll be as silent as an ant.” 

“We’re friends, Hermione. We will even be family one day if our children decided that their schoolyard relationship is worthy of being a forever bond, so you won’t be offended by my next words. Of all the witches and wizards in the world, if I would need to put my money on the person who would be able to keep talking until everyone fell asleep, it would be you, not Professor Bins. You, Granger! You don’t shut up! It’s how you got to be Minister for Magic!” 

“That’s a yes, then? I’ll see you tonight, and I will inform Edward that he can spend the night in the Leaky instead,” The Gryffindor leaned forward, kissing her cheek. “Bye, Pansy. Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

“Granger! Come back! That’s not what I meant!” she groaned, landing on her chair with a loud thump, making her assistant rush into the office. “Lea, please schedule a reminder in my diary. Need to speak with my daughter. I will die if Vivi and Scorpius marry and I will need to share Sunday roast with that woman weekly instead of monthly.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?” the 20-year-old asked. 

“Yes, get me two red howler parchments. I have a husband and a best friend who deserve an earful.” 

Chapter Text

Neville observed the young Aurors’ reactions to the red envelope flying from the lift in his direction. The former Gryffindor caught it with a flick of his wand. The howler floated beside him as if it was as inoffensive as a domesticated owl. 

“Back to work, Aurors, or you will need to finish the paperwork after hours. Patrols are starting in 5 minutes,” he said, using his best commanding voice.

A chorus of “Yes, sir” was heard as the young wizards and witches went back to the parchments, coffee mugs and tea cups. Neville locked and silenced his office before opening the howler. 

“I’m going to kill your boss, okay? I’m going to kill her slowly and painfully. Hexing her like I always wanted to do at Hogwarts. And you won’t arrest me, because I’m your loving wife. She’s coming to the Debate today, so you know… I won’t be home until very late. Love you.” his wife’s voice disappeared as the howler exploded into flames. 

Neville felt sympathy for Pansy and all the listeners. It was an important debate about the use of magic in mixed neighbours like their own. And he had heard Hermione’s arguments hundred times before in all the Ministry meetings they had about the subject.

His poor wife…

Neville would definitely need to find something to make her feel better. He didn’t believe that dinner and flowers would be enough at that time. Maybe a bubble bath, a massage, some beautiful nightwear. And the promise of a weekend away as soon as classes started. Japan. His wife had always wanted to visit, and they never had a chance.

The Gryffindor didn’t even notice time flying by. He had been so focused on work that he missed lunch hour and tea time. The shift was over and he was still going through the details of the trial that would happen in a few days. 

It was the first big case since he became Head Auror. A pureblood wizard, still focused on the old ways, who proclaimed himself Grindelwald’s Heir and would cleanse Wizard Britain of the Muggle Influence.

He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand, when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

“Thank Merlin I was able to find you, Head Auror Longbottom,” a young man said, only a couple of years older than Violet. “I come from the Department of International Magical Co-operation. We received a letter from the French Ministry directed at you. It seemed important and urgent.”

“Thank you,” Nev said, accepting the envelope. It didn’t seem like official correspondence from his French counterpart. 

He opened it to see a photograph of his daughters wearing two adorable berets and in the background the Eiffel Tower. There was a note from Calliope ‘keeping them safe like promised’. 

“Good news, Sir?” the wizard asked.

“Yes, very good news. I shall be taking my leave for the day. And so should you, or I’ll have words with your superior about keeping you so late.” Neville said, placing the most important documents on the safe. 

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Have a good night.” the young boy turned to leave with a nod.

“Oi! Before you leave, I never got your name?” Nev said, patting him in the back as he warded his office close.

“Oh, Christopher Herrmann, Sir.”

“Have a good night, Christopher!” Neville smiled, making his way to the stairs instead of the lifts. He always liked to end his day with some exercise.

Chapter Text

Pansy groaned, rubbing her temples. What she would do for a pain potion at that moment? Her headache had not disappeared since that morning when Hermione Granger appeared. She had called the other intervening parties to explain that the British Minister for Magic would be present at the debate. And begged on them not to cancel on her.

8 pm was getting closer and closer, and Pansy would probably thank anyone that Avada her there at that moment. 

The door to her office opened, but Pansy kept her eyes closed. “Lea, just give me five minutes, please. I don’t want to speak with anyone.”

“Not even your husband?” Nev asked.

“Oh, love, what are you doing here?” she pouted, leaning into his embrace. 

“I thought you would need some pick me up, so I brought some pastries, an invigorating coffee, a yellow tulip and something even more special that you will love very very much.” He said, offering her the envelope.

“What’s this?” she asked. “Oh, my babies! Look at them, Nebbie! So happy about their holiday in France! Are these our flowers?” 

Neville nodded, expertly pulling Pansy to her feet, before sitting down on her own chair, and pulling his wife into his lap. Like they were teenagers at Hogwarts. But Pansy wouldn’t complain, Nev was always able to calm her down.

“They are our flowers…” he whispered, pointing to the picture frame on her desk. A photograph of the four of them ages ago in their first Quidditch World Cup, Violet and Valerie were so young. “But they keep growing and blooming.”

“You’re the best father they could ask for…”

The Gryffindor shook his head, kissing Pansy’s cheek. “I’m that good, love… I still work so much. You’re the one that stayed home with them-” 

“Merlin, Nev. We’re not having this argument again. You didn’t work that much. Listen to me!” she turned on his lap, so she was straddling him. “You were home for playtime, bath time, mealtime and bedtime. Almost every fucking day! And when you were part of the night shift, you were there for a ‘good morning, baby,’ and breakfast! So stop! We made it work!”

“Yes, ma’am!” he smirked, diving in to kiss her. “I like you all riled up. You need that fire for the debate.” 

Pansy groaned, “don’t remind me… Hermione Granger-Malfoy will keep it going until daybreak arrives.” 

Her husband stroked her back, “it won’t be that bad, my love.”

“She’s your friend. You know her! She doesn’t know when to stop. That’s probably why she was too much for Theo, and enough for Draco.” The Slytherin confessed, losing herself on Neville’s touch for a little while.

“Not even Hermione can talk for 10 hours, love…” he teased. “Do you want to make a bet?” 

“I never say no to a bet,” the witch explained, pinching Neville’s side. 

“Well, if we all don’t leave the station before 11 pm, I shall make up for all the hours that we spent here, with my tongue and fing-” 

Pansy covered his mouth with her hands. “We’re at my workplace, Neville Longbottom! Don’t be crude! But I accept your terms.” 

Of course, Pansy won the bet. The Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger-Malfoy had so many arguments to share with her constituents, that the discussion only ended well almost at 1 am, instead of the 10 pm that Pansy had originally envisioned before she knew it was Hermione Granger-Malfoy that would be coming, and 11 that Neville had hoped for.