A/N: This was written for Wizarding Crossover Connection's From the Ashes fest. This was a fest to commemorate the Wizarding War and learn more about how some of our favorite characters may have coped with the war as we tie them to characters in other fandoms.

This story was written for xxDustNight88 because she loves this crossover pair! :)

I hope you enjoy it!

Love always,
~starr


It had been years since Pansy Parkinson had left London, leaving behind the Wizarding world she knew to dive headfirst into the muggle world. When she first left, Pansy wasn't sure where she would end up or how she was going to support herself until she ended up in Los Angeles. For the most part, she kept to herself. It was easier than having to relive her history with everyone she met, not to mention she didn't need to worry about alerting the MACUSA that she was revealing her abilities to people who didn't really need to know.

The problem with being alone for so long is that when something triggers a reminder of your past, there is no one there who understands what happened. Pansy had left all of those friends behind and had since replaced them with her neighbors who lived in the next loft down. There was only one problem with them; they didn't know about the war and the toll it took on witches and wizards all over the world.

On the fifth anniversary of the war, Pansy found herself wanting to drown her sorrows in a bottle of firewhiskey and pretend the world didn't exist. Every time she closed her eyes, she was met with flashes of curses and hexes being cast on her friends, and it felt like she could still feel the blood on her hands as she watched so many of her classmates die. All she wanted to do was forget, but even in an intoxicated state, her mind still wouldn't shut down.

As tempting as it was to spend the rest of her night on the couch, where a bottle of wine in her hands and mindless nonsense is playing on the Telly, Pansy knew she needed to get some fresh air. She remembered her neighbors talking about how relaxing the roof was at this time of the evening. Pansy pushed herself up from the couch with a sigh and made her way to the door, leaving her alcohol behind on the coffee table. A quick ascent up the fire escape at the end of the hall, and Pansy found herself basking in the setting sun over the horizon.

Pansy walked over to the far side of the roof and rested her arms on the wall, looking out over the busy city. The noise was a welcomed interruption to the thoughts bustling about in her mind reminding her of the life she left behind. Her therapist had given her a recommendation to help quiet her mind, but Pansy knew she wasn't ready to quiet the voices just yet. Even though she knew she would give anything to be able to sleep through the night instead of being awoken from a nightmare as memories of the war flooded her mind.

Nick had followed her up to the roof when he noticed her mumbling to herself in the hall. He was confused by her frustration and wanted to make sure that she was okay, but he had never been good at comforting people when they needed it. He always seemed to make the situation awkward, so he hung back and watched her for a while. He knew that Pansy preferred dealing with her issues herself, but he didn't want her to be alone.

One night, not long after they had started dating, Pansy opened up to him about the life she left in London. She told him about her schooling and the war that had broken out during her last year of education. She described the hardships of being caught between what she knew was right and what her family expected of her. That was why she chose to leave after she graduated. Nick knew there was something more to the story that Pansy hadn't told him, but he didn't want to push it at the time. She would tell him when she was ready.

Nick watched her for a few more moments before deciding he should let her know that he was here. Nick made his way across the rooftop with a deep breath and leaned up beside Pansy at the railing. "Whatcha doing, Pans?" he asked, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

Pansy laughed, leaning over to rest her head on Nick's shoulder as she took a step closer to him. "Trying to quiet the voices," she replied, exhaling sharply. "It's the fifth anniversary of the war that made me realize I needed to get the hell out of London."

"Are the nightmares back?" he asked, resting his cheek against the top of her head. Nick felt her nodding her head beneath him. He let out a sigh and wrapped his arm around his waist. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Pansy said, shaking her head as she continued looking out over the balcony as she felt Nick's hand stroking the small of her back. Just having him standing beside her was helping to quell the chaos that was running about in her mind.

"What did the therapist suggest?" Nick asked, chuckling as he felt her lift her head from his shoulder. He assumed she was rolling her eyes at him, but he didn't turn to acknowledge it.

"How did you know?" she began, only to have him cut her off.

"Because, even though you still have your secrets, I have gotten to know you pretty damn well in the last five years since you moved into the lofts," Nick explained, turning to face her as he leaned up against the balcony. "Every time you have a session with him, you come up here and try to decide if you are going to follow his advice or not. It usually takes you about an hour to make up your mind, and then you come down to the loft and hang out for a while before actually taking his advice."

"I do not," Pansy huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him, fighting the urge she felt to roll her eyes. She thought about what he said for a few more moments and came to an unfortunate realization. He was right. "Damn it."

"What?" Nick asked, proudly cocking his head to the side as he watched her.

Pansy huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're right. I do always come up here and think the session through."

"And then come down to the loft and hang out with me," Nick added, a smile beaming from his face. "I thought I'd help speed up the timeline a little bit."

"By coming up here to hang out with me so that I can jump straight to what the therapist wants me to do after a while," Pansy sighed, shaking her head as she stepped away from the balcony and took a seat on the step, cradling her head in her hands. "I hate that you know me better than I know myself sometimes."

Nick laughed as he took a seat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "But that's my job," he teased, leaning into her as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "It's part of the reason that we work so well together. You get me and understand my weird quirks, and I know you so well that I can help you work through anything you're going through without knowing all of the secret details."

Pansy turned to look at him for a few moments. "We do make a good team, don't we?"

"I like to think so anyway," Nick replied, kissing her once more. "So what does the therapist want you to try this time?"

"He wants me to write a letter to myself," Pansy said with a sigh, scrubbing her hands over her face and running her fingers through her hair.

"That doesn't sound so hard," Nick said, furrowing his brow at the frustration still paining Pansy's face.

"When I was experiencing my trauma during the war," Pansy grumbled, leaning back to lay on the step and look up at the sky. "He wants me to tell myself something I know now that may have helped me back then."

"Did he tell you what to do with the letter after you write it?" Nick asked, smiling as an idea came to mind.

Pansy shook her head. "Why?"

"Go write your letter and then bring it to the loft after you finish," Nick said, pushing himself up from the step. "I have an idea."

Pansy huffed, pushing herself up off the ground, and stood beside Nick. "This is actually a good idea, right?"

Taken aback by her comment, Nick clutched his hand to his chest. "All of my ideas are good ideas."

"You can't flush the loo in your loft without turning on the sink in the kitchen!" Pansy exclaimed, smirking at him as she shook her head. "I'll go write the letter."

"Good," Nick said, stepping forward to kiss her chastely.

Pansy kissed him back and smiled as he pulled away, making his way back into the building. She remained outside for a few more minutes before reluctantly making her way back to her loft. She had a letter to write herself after all. Part of her was very curious as to what Nick had in mind for the letter, but at the same time, Pansy knew it was better not to ask any questions.

. . . . . . . . .

Dear Pansy,

Blood isn't the only thing that makes a family. In fact, I think that blood doesn't even mean you're family at all. It just means that two people got together and made a baby. Those people are just the ones who brought you into existence; it doesn't mean they really care for you at all.

You can choose the people who you call family. And those people will reveal themselves to you at the craziest point in your life. Sure, you've got some friends at Hogwarts who look at you like family, and they always will, but you'll make a new family when you leave London behind.

It's okay to run away from the place that has tormented you for so long. It is okay to leave behind the people who tried to make you kill the people you love in cold blood without ever looking back. No matter what your sperm and egg donor say, you made the right fucking choice for choosing the light. Who cares if you have to give up your family inheritance? Would the money have been worth the cost of having your friends' blood on your hands or their deaths on your conscience? You made the right choice. Don't listen to what anyone else has to say.

Potter and Granger and the Weasleys opened you with open arms. Be grateful to them. They could have told you that you were on your own, but they didn't. They are good people. Don't forget that.

You don't have to feel guilty for wanting to leave them behind. They understand why you wanted to leave, and they won't judge you for doing what you needed to do to be happy. Just remember to tell them goodbye before you leave.

Life in the states is better than you will ever imagine. You'll find friends who treat you like family, and you'll find a man who loves you. He loves you and all of your flaws. Someday we'll gather up the courage to tell him the truth about London, but until that time, it's okay because he knows you need to keep some things inside.

It's okay to set the past of fire and get the hell out of there. You will find a family that loves you and wants you to be you.

It will get better.

Just trust me.

. . . . . . . . . .

Pansy wrapped her fingers against the door to the loft and waited patiently for someone to let her in. She stared at the letter in her hands as her mind ran the possible ideas that Nick had come up with for her. "He damn well better not expect me to read this out loud. I'd rather chew it up and swallow it before I do that," she mumbled.

A few moments later, the door of the lift slid open, and Nick met her with a smile. "Why didn't you just let yourself in?"

Pansy shrugged, shaking her head. "I wasn't sure what you were planning, and I didn't want to ruin the surprise as I did with the coffin."

Nick thought about it for a moment and nodded his head. "Good plan," he replied, ushering her inside. He led her over to the lit fireplace and presented it to her. "Here."

"The fireplace?" Pansy asked, cocking her head to the side. "What am I supposed to do with the fireplace?"

"Drop the letter into the flames and watch it burn," Nick suggested, leaning up against the wall. "Destroy the memories of the war and watch them turn to ash. Let yourself arise from the ashes like a phoenix to break away from your past."

Pansy laughed, nodding her head. "That is an oddly specific way to feel after watching the letter burn, but I like the enthusiasm."

She stepped forward and dropped the letter into the fire. The crackle of the fire as it devoured the paper sent a shiver through her body, but for the first time since she left London, Pansy felt free.