The part when Varian just comes up to amren and they just start making out in front of everyone omg that was great and he just picks her up and they just leave and everyone’s just staring after them not knowing what to say
When nesta screamed for cassian while on the ground puking and it saved his life.
All feysand fluff. ugh. I really needed it.
WHEN CASSAIN AND NESTA KISSED OMFG THE EMOTIONS
Learning that the bone carver was appearing as FEYSANDS FUTURE CHILD OMG
Learning all about the other high lords and the part where Viviane was like “Why cant I be a high lady” HAHAHHAHA i loved it
when Feyre crushed that bitch ianthes hand YESSSS
Finally learning Amren’s true form but having her not die (the sweet relief that amren x varian will live on)
Also learning Rhys’s true form
Hearing more of mors story because it gave so much more insight into her
NESTA KILLING HYBERN WAS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY
Feyre flying off into the sunset with rhysand at the end *wipes tear*
Pansy held onto the wall with both hands and looked down at the ground. She tried to concentrate on the empty butterbeer bottle and not on the fact that everything was spinning wildly.
“Please don’t be sick, please don’t be sick,” she murmured to herself, hoping the words would have some magical effect and she could avoid the seemingly unavoidable. She had had so many fruity colorful drinks that she’d hate to see the result of all of them mixing together in the corner of that filthy Muggle alley.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and was able to straighten up and turn around, leaning her weight against the wall. It had been approximately two hours since she’d lost Daphne and the rest of the girls of the hen night. Pansy thought it would be easy to find them. They had, after all, a very detailed pub crawl that would take them to the best and most exclusive places, both Magical and Muggle. Pansy had been jumping from pub to pub searching for them, but they always seemed to be one step ahead of her. Or, one step back. She couldn’t really tell at this point.
The thing was, that every time she stepped a foot inside one of these places, someone would shove a drink in her hand. Drunk, sleazy boys with too much money and too little brains, getting her the most expensive cocktails without even having to ask. And even though she’d disappear right after, having the pretty, sweet drink right in her hand was too much of a temptation, so she’d leave every pub even more wasted than before.
Pansy opened her eyes, looking at the blurry back door of the last pub she had visited, not really remembering coming out of it. She’d given up by then, and just needed to gather enough strength and self-control to disapparate to her place.
Suddenly, the door opened, letting the noisy music fill the alley momentarily until it closed again. Pansy tried to see who had walked out, but she would have had to raise her head more and she didn’t think she could manage that without vomiting all over her feet.
“Parkinson?” A masculine voice asked. It wasn’t familiar, but if that person knew her name, at least it meant that they weren’t another disgusting boy who wold try to take advantage of her. Probably.
She didn’t answer, too focused on breathing steadily and keeping the alcohol in. The man moved closer, and even lowered his head to see if her eyes were open. Pansy could recognize the general features of him; blonde, rather big, Muggle clothes, and not much else. She tried to come up with a name, but that distracted her from her concentration and she almost felt her stomach give up on her. She placed one hand over had mouth and another on her chest as she breathed in, once again.
“Oh,” the man exclaimed in realization. “Here, this will help.”
He waved his wand in her direction and muttered some words she couldn’t understand. Pansy started to panic almost instantly; she had let some man cast a spell on her and she had no idea what it was. He could have drugged her, he could have Imperiused her, or worse. Suddenly the thought of vomiting didn’t seem so bad anymore, as she would have to do it in order to prepare herself to fight this man. If she was lucky, maybe he’d be so grossed out by it that he would leave her alone just with that. Pansy stuffed her hand in her purse and pulled out her wand, pointing it in front of her.
“You’d have to kill me first,” she managed to say, right before feeling herself heaving.
Abruptly, it was gone. She was doubled over, ready to puke her life out, but the feeling had vanished. Her vision started to become clear and focused, and the buzzing in her head diminished significantly. Pansy still had her wand pointed, and she didn’t plan on letting her guard down, even less now that she was magically sobering up.
She straightened up slowly, carefully inspecting the man in front of her; his boring brown shoes, the hideous pair of trousers with grass stains, the tucked-in button up that covered a large, burly (and rather nice, she thought reluctantly. Maybe she was still a bit drunk.) torso. Finally, when she reached his face, she had to triple check as if her vision was still blurred, because that couldn’t really be Neville Longbottom, could he?
He had both hands next to his face, surrendering to whatever Pansy was threatening him with. Pansy lowered her wand, but then thought better of it and took a step forward, stumbling and almost crashing against him. He steadied her with one hand and she immediately slapped him away.
“What the hell was that spell? What did you do to me?” She jabbed her wand into his chest and Neville’s eyes went twice as big. He seemed genuinely scared of her.
“Nothing!” he answered, shaking his head. “It was a sobering spell. I learnt it from Hermione. It doesn’t completely remove the effects of alcohol but it should help reduce he worst of it.”
Pansy relaxed her shoulders but she still narrowed her eyes suspiciously. His words made sense, but you couldn’t be too careful.
“Do you feel better?” he asked and she considered him. He looked very different from what she remembered, but he still had the same air of innocence and sincerity, and that made her feel secure. She lowered her wand and nodded. Longbottom was a war hero after all; he wouldn’t hurt her.
He smiled. “I saw you with your friends in another pub a while ago. Where are they?”
Pansy shrugged. “I lost them.” She was now fit enough again to look for them, but it had been a very long night already. “I have to go. Thank you for…that.”
With her wand in hand, she got ready to disapparate, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.
She looked up at Neville with a frown and he smiled nervously. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’re still not sober enough and it might make you dizzy again.”
His hand felt warm and firm on her, and she leaned into it a bit, enjoying the stabilization it provided. “Alright. I’ll walk then.”
It was a big effort, stepping away from under his touch, but she managed it anyway. Neville took his hand back and looked as if he was about to say something, looking at Pansy up and down. But then he closed his mouth and Pansy thought she saw him blush, but maybe she was still too buzzed to tell.
She took a few steps, completely aware that she wasn’t walking straight by any definition, but knowing she was perfectly able to make it home like that. Still, she stopped just before reaching the end of the alley and turned around.
Neville Longbottom stood there, hands in his pockets and pretending he wasn’t watching her walk away. Pansy smirked to herself and wondered if she would have done this had she been entirely sober.
“Would you like to walk me home?”
Neville smiled and nodded, already making his way over to her. “Yes. That’d be alright.”
They started walking silently along the sidewalk, Neville stealing glances in Pansy’s direction every few steps.
“How do you feel?” he asked after a while. His voice was soft and deep and Pansy didn’t know how she didn’t recognize it at first, because it seemed perfectly right to her ears now.
“Okay…” she said before turning to look at him. “Although, I feel a bit unsteady with these heels.”
Neville looked down at her feet. “Why don’t you take them off? I’ve seen girls do it after parties.”
“I would rather slice my own throat than be caught walking barefoot with my heels in my hand after leaving a pub,” Pansy declared and was surprised to hear Neville laughing.
She moved just a bit closer to him. “Maybe you could help me,” she said, barely above a whisper, as she brushed her shoulder against his arm suggestively, in what she hoped, was a subtle manner.
Neville stiffened next to her, but then, slowly, he raised his arm and draped it over her shoulders delicately. The weight was enough to make her feel more stable and she couldn’t believe how much she was enjoying being so close to him. She almost wanted to close her eyes and lean into his chest, but she decided she had been shameless enough for now.
They walked like that for a while, submerged in a comfortable silence as the scenery around them kept their eyes busy. The sun was coming out, tinting the sky with warm colors and waking up the birds that started chirping.
“Where do you live?” Neville asked after what felt like hours of silence and Pansy stopped in her tracks, making him stumble. She looked around with a frown, trying to recognize something, anything. She gasped slightly.
“What?” Neville looked worried, but then Pansy huffed a laugh and his face relaxed.
“We passed by my house a while ago. I didn’t notice.” She should have been embarrassed, or frustrated even, but all she felt was amusement at the situation.
Neville’s face brightened up and his smile felt conspiratorial, secret, and only for her.
He turned around, facing the direction they’d been walking from, and raising his other arm in a silent invitation as he looked at her from over his shoulder. Pansy positioned herself under his arm again.
Neville’s fingertips brushed her arm. “Now we get to walk back.”