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"I have to admit, Neville, I wasn't really sure about this at first," Padma said as they rested against the railing in the park.
The sky was dark and full of stars, and she wore a lovely summer dress.
Neville could sense the fresh smell of her skin mixed with her perfume – there was lotus in it.
"Really?" He said with a sheepish smile.
"Yeah," Padma rolled her eyes over her silliness, "We were friends for so long, and with everything that happened. My divorce… I wasn't sure I was ready to get myself out again. I didn't even tell Hannah; I didn't want her to get her hopes up. You know how she is."
"Yeah, I know, everyone needs to be happy or else," Neville said fondly, "So, you didn’t tell anyone about me, huh?" It was playful.
"Um, I… I didn’t think it would be anything more than a nice dinner, if I’m being honest." Padma said with a grimace, messing with a tie at her waist.
"You should be careful, Padma," Neville chided her gently, "You should always tell someone when going out. There are all sorts of people…"
But Padma only laughed and nudged him, "Neville, it’s just you. I am safe."
Neville looked down at her, into her dark eyes, at her perfect skin, "Can I kiss you now? Or would you rather let it be only a dinner with a friend?"
She smiled at him, "It would never cross my mind that asking for consent can be so attractive. I would like that. You can kiss me, Nev."
He moved and traced his fingers across her jaw. He leaned down, and their lips met. It was slow and sensual, and then his tongue ran along the seam of her lips.
Padma willingly opened and deepened their kiss.
Neville felt her lean into him and wrapped his arms around her.
"Neville, Neville, hold on, please slow down." She gasped adorably after a moment, all flushed.
He pulled away and stepped back, awkwardly rubbing his neck. "Oh, sorry. I lost myself a bit."
"No, that’s okay…" Padma took his hand to keep him close, "Wow. You’re a great kisser. Whoa. It’s a first date, let’s slow down before I jump your bones, alright."
They both chuckled.
"Yeah, sure." Neville agreed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "Still getting the hang of this whole dating thing again."
She rested her head against his chest, "I understand. I know what grief can be like. I couldn’t imagine ever feeling joy again, when Parvati disappeared. I mean, it's not the same as you losing Pansy, but… she was my other half, one way or another."
Neville smiled sadly. "One gets used to the pain and grows around it, right?"
"Yes, exactly. But they would want us to be happy again. I really believe that."
He sighed, then nodded, "Pansy would want me to, yes. She told me so many times, it made me angry. She was worried."
Padma turned to face him, looking into his eyes with conviction, "But you are doing alright. You are out here, trying. I am glad I could share that with you. Neville?"
"Hm?"
"Can you kiss me again?" She asked.
"Of course," he crooned and leaned down to kiss her deeply.
She didn't even feel the syringe.
Padma woke up floating above a pond in a greenhouse, unable to move or scream.
She was naked and covered in tallow. Neville was slowly and gently scraping it off her belly with a sharp knife. He stood in the pond fully clothed, completely focused on his work. "Shhh, easy. Don’t fight it, it won’t give. Don’t worry, pretty flower, I will take care of you."
Padma couldn't see much, aside from the charmed glass ceiling, long leaves of various palms, and vines of plants that slowly crawled towards the brightly shining full moon. Her heart beat nearly out of her chest, confusion and fear mixing in her bloodstream.
„You know,“ Neville said as he scraped more of the tallow from under her breasts, „You were right about Pansy – she really did want me to move on. I tried. It didn’t work. No one can dictate to me how long I’ll grieve, not even her.“
Padma tried to scream again, but to no avail. Her eyes were full of tears; she was terrified.
Neville shushed her softly. „Let me finish, pretty flower. It's rude to interrupt. As I was saying, I just cannot let her go yet. I know it has been almost a decade, but still. She is the love of my life. There will never be anyone else.“
He moved around her to scrape some from her upper thigh. „She had this perfume I loved. Pansy made it herself, but she never told me how to make it. I think it was on purpose, so my grief had a deadline. Well, then your sister told me about this urban story about Parkinson perfumeries. That the blooms in their greenhouses were everlasting before the fiendfyre explosions, that there were souls trapped inside of them to power them through centuries – always perfect, always fragrant. I think it was Pansy who did it. No one else could pull that off, with the level of protection the flowers had from the ritual itself and from Parkinson's family magic. She was already dying from the blood curse, and destroying it took the rest of her energy. I am still mad about it. But I dug around Pansy’s vault, and there it was. The diary, the manual. She never used the initial ritual, I am sure of that, but maintaining it took a lot of work too, and it was all there."
Neville moved through the water, his rolled-up sleeves soaking wet, the thin fabric of his cream shirt showing his dark chest hair where it was wet, strong pecks and arms from all the heavy lifting around the greenhouse. He moved around and cradled Padma's head in his hands. He looked sad, remorseful, and with a heavy sigh, he continued, "You know, to make the ritual work and to make the exact same perfume, I need to capture the essence. But common flowers wouldn't do, because it wasn't made from ordinary flowers in the first place. It's a complex transfiguration work, but don't worry, I've mastered it over the last decade." He caressed Padma's temple tenderly, "I am sorry about your sister, though. I fucked up the first few times."
An even stronger stream of tears began running down Padma's cheeks. It was all she could do when the sudden wave of grief and realization hit her.
Neville pulled out a vial to gather them. "I promise, I gave her a proper burial, and I bring her and the others flowers often. It was unfortunate, I wanted to give them forever and only asked for a part of my Pansy back. I never intended to hurt any of them. I made a lot of progress in the last five years, but I couldn't get the last ingredient for so long. And then you returned from India, and we met again. It was the moment I knew it had to be you. There was a lotus in her perfume, now I am sure of it. You will make a perfect flower."
Padma's eyes widened in panic, and she tried to move or beg or fight. Neville threaded his fingers through her hair, humming a song to her until she gave up.
"Don't exhaust yourself, Padma. We still have work to do. Don't cry. I know it seems scary, but you will live forever after this. Yes, maybe not the way you wanted, but you will be part of something bigger. Look." He gently moved her head so she could look at the flowers on the left side of the greenhouse.
"See the Hibiscus? Beautiful, isn't she? Millicent was truly exceptional. She has a better life here than being married off to some Bulgarian thug. She's growing stronger and more fragrant every year." Neville said with pride and satisfaction in his tone. "She was the first one that worked out."
He pointed towards rose bushes a little further away, "Narcissa was suicidal, did you know? After losing Lucius and with Draco in Azkaban for life, she had nothing to live for. She loved Pansy like a daughter, and her death broke her almost as much as it broke me. It was mercy for her when I took her here. She has nothing to worry about anymore, only to bloom for Pansy."
Neville moved Padma around the pond to show her other flowers and plants, each of them a person that he transfigured through the Parkinson ritual. Fleur Weasley as peonies, blue and beautiful. Osmanthus, that was Cho, who everyone thought had left for good and settled in China. Alicia Spinnet trapped in freesias. Blackcurrant bushes as the eternal home of Blaise Zabini – everyone thought it was his mother, who made him disappear. They all thought she protected him from the Ministry's repercussions after the war. And there were more. Years of practicing forbidden magic.
"You will be in a lovely company, Padma. You won't be alone."
And then Neville slit her wrists. The blood pooled into the pond, colouring it crimson red. Padma's eyes slowly closed, her heart struggling to keep up.
"Don't worry, pretty flower, I won't let you bleed out completely. I just need to prepare you." Neville spoke softly, caressing her hair until only the flutter of her breath remained.
It was all about the timing.
He collected a few blood droplets into another vial. He began to wave his wand and mumbling incantations.
Light filled Padma's chest as he lowered her into the pond, the calm water enveloping her and soaking her dark hair.
Neville's voice rose, and the blood snaked through the water in tendrils in an elaborate pattern.
Her last tears pooled in the corners and between her long lashes. There was no more fight. She sank below the surface.
Light from Padma's chest exploded. The tendrils of blood transformed into vines and roots. Leaves sprouted from then, and in the middle of a pond, right in front of Neville, the first lotus bloomed, followed by dozens of others.
"See?" Neville touched one of the petals tenderly, "I told you, everything will be alright. And you will live forever here, safe from the predators outside. I will protect you. All I want is the last piece of a puzzle to get a bit of my Pansy back."
He stood in the water for a few more minutes, carefully checking his new addition to the greenhouse. But everything was perfect, as always.
She was delicate and fragrant, exactly what Neville needed.
"Thank you, Padma, truly," he said to the largest bloom before he left the pond, full of gratitude. There was still so much work to do.
Neville took the tallow capturing Padma's essence, the vials with blood and tears, and followed the manual in a practised manner. There was a picture of Pansy on their wedding day above his station, and he talked to her through the process.
And in the end, after ten years of work and research, after providing all those people with a safe forever in his greenhouse, and after days of tinkering the exact formula, when he added the last drop of flower essence, he smelled Pansy again.
Tears blinded him as he sobbed into the handkerchief he dabbed the perfume on. All the memories of her skin and smile and voice rushed back in full force, after years through which they slowly dulled. His resolution became stronger than ever. He could do this. "One step closer," He mumbled incoherently, stumbling through the greenhouse towards the marble block in the middle.
"One step closer to get you back, my love." He whispered against the inscription that said:
Pansy Longbottom
Not even death will do us part.