Title: Promise Me
Author: katie_flint
Character(s): Neville Longbottom, Pansy Parkinson
Pairing(s): Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 100x6
Warning(s): N/A
Challenge(s): mixandmatch100 Prompt No. 8 - delayed
Summary: Neville can't take the way blokes always try and hit on his girlfriend...
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Author's Note: Wow... I haven't actually gotten to write/finish writing something in forever.... It feels amazing T_T Andddd, now to disappear into the abyss, dragged back by the mounds of homework waiting.

Neville Longbottom wasn’t an aggressive bloke, in fact, many considered him irrefutably docile in spite of his actions during the war. He didn’t seem to mind the implication, or at least he didn’t ever refute it. Neville was a scholarly man, quite contented to mix with his flora populations than any gathering people put on.

Still, that didn’t stop him from going down to the local pub with his girlfriend and his mates. They had a good time, the lot of them, but there was always one thing Neville couldn’t stand. And it would happen every night, without fail.

Someone would try and pick up his girl.

It was little wonder really. She was rather beautiful after all. And the infrequent patrons of the establishment tended to verge on the wasted side of their pints, leading emboldened men to voice their opinions of her openly and directly.

Men had always done this with Pansy. Neville had seen it firsthand throughout their schooling years, but he hadn’t had his arm around her waist then.

Neville wasn’t a brute, and as head of Gryffindor, he did his best to teach his students there were means beyond physical altercation that could lend to their bravery. However, that didn’t mean it was off the table. It only meant that Neville didn’t consider himself brave when he acted upon those impulses.

Pushed too far, as his mates would later claim, Neville had already tolerated his fair share of contenders tonight. Pansy’s mood was sullied with their continuously unwelcomed advances and she leaned against Neville’s chest, clearly placing herself within his personal space. They were unquestioningly, a couple. And even the blindest wizard could see that, but that didn’t stop the most belligerent of the blokes at the bar.

Neville was polite, more so than Pansy’s immediate rejection, but even his patience quickly wore thin at the man’s persistence.

He couldn’t hex him, because it went against his beliefs, but Neville did something equally as satisfying.

Taking a powerful swing at the bloke, Neville cut the man’s vulgar speech off midsentence, and causing him to stumble to the floor at the sheer force of the blow.

Neville stood unmoving over the unconscious man for a long moment before stalking determinedly toward the loo. Pansy followed him swiftly, though no one else dared to move, all too shocked to see the cheery Gryffindor react so.

“Neville-” Pansy started, halting as the bathroom door closed behind her.

Cradling his hand to his chest now, Neville smiled at her, pain bringing a glimmer to his eyes, “Sorry love, couldn’t help myself.”

“Neville!” Pansy seethed, stalking toward her gentle giant, “Don’t you dare. He had it coming. If you hadn’t, you know I would’ve hexed boils onto his crotch.”

Neville had to laugh at her anger, knowing the place of concern it came from. She had a wicked temper, and more than once he’d had to save Pansy from her own nature.

“Let me see your hand,” Pansy demanded, ushering the requested appendage forth with an open palm. Neville gave in easily, wincing as she touched the damaged knuckles, “You shouldn’t hit people though, you’re rubbish at it.”

“He, and the rest of them…” Neville sighed, “You know I won’t hex them, I can’t. I just want them to leave you- us- alone.”

“You could always let me…” Pansy said, correcting her thought as the frown deepened on Neville’s face, “I know, I know.”

Allowing Pansy to heal him, Neville grasped her hands pleadingly, “Promise me you won’t, ever.”

“Neville…”

”Promise me, Pansy. Please?”

“… I promise,”

“Thank you…”