Author's Note:

Thank you to all you amazing readers, who hung in there through patches of writer's block, and kept the support and love coming. Like all fanfic writers, I thrive on your comments and you have been wonderful.

Many, MANY thanks to the crew of alpha and beta readers who have nurtured this along the way with everything from brit picking to time line straightening: apple2019, brightki, cocoartistwrites, dulce-de-leche-go, lizziebennetgonesolo, Mags0607, Oracle10, shayalonnie, small-steps-and-better-days, TequilaMockingbirdWrites, theeldritchwitch, wildrosemage

The next generation cheat sheet:
Thadeus Idun Nott - June 21, 2000 (Hufflepuff)
Laurel Idri Nott - June 21, 2000 (Slytherin)
Scorpius Malfoy - March 15, 2001 (Slytherin)
Rose (Cassandra) Weasley - February 14, 2001 (Gryffindor)
Helios Vinson Goyle-Lovegood - April, 2001 (Hufflepuff)
Belladonna Black (Ravenclaw)

Annamonk wrote a great ficlet set in this universe about Pansy and her fox: Vixen's Vocation. www DOT fanfiction DOT net/s/11875771/1/Vixen-s-Vocation and also linked from my profile.

There is a pinterest board for this fic at www DOT pinterest DOT com/colubrina/pygmalion/

The best way to reach me with questions is via tumblr, where my user name is Colubrina.

. . . . . . . . . .

And, finally, to end this journey, a bonus Christmas Pygmalion ficlet, originally posted on tumblr in 2015 for a little holiday cheer:

"I don't see why we have to do this," Greg muttered as he and Vincent hauled a large tree back to Castle Library. "Tom could just float the thing here with one wave of his hand but, no, instead we have to haul the thing in the hard way." He took a deep breath and gave the evergreen another yank, making a face as his hand came in contact with some of the stickiness around the base of the tree. "I'm going to have sap on everything."

"You wanna tell Tom to do it?" Vincent demanded. He'd remembered to wear gloves - and gloves he didn't care about at that - so was a tad less pissy than Greg.

Greg lowered the trunk and turned to look at his longtime friend. "You want me to die or something? What's with a suggestion like that?"

"You were complaining," Vincent said.

Greg huffed. By the time they had the tree in he did, indeed, have sap on everything. "I need a bath," he muttered as Pansy ordered him to leave the tree right there in the foyer, that she and Hermione would decorate it.

"Were we supposed to get people gifts?" Greg asked Vincent as they went off in search of a more sapless existence. He was worried he'd somehow mucked everything up. "Were we supposed to get her a gift?" Vincent glanced back over his shoulder at the two women who were levitating the tree with their wands and arguing about where it should go and hunched his own shoulders. If they were supposed to get Hermione a gift, and didn't, Tom would be angry. If he felt their giving her a present was overstepping, however, he'd be, well, neither of them wanted to think about what he'd be. He liked to experiment on Muggles to pass the afternoon, and he frequently delivered lectures on what whatever curse he was working on did as it happened.

Entrails were incredibly messy and both Greg and Vincent preferred theirs inside their bodies rather than on the floor. Still, no matter how terrifying the man was - and he was terrifying - he could inspire. He was willing to go over anything he discovered with any of them for as many times as it took. Used to teachers who dismissed him as 'the stupid one', Greg appreciated that Tom Riddle didn't do that. He could make you feel like you were something special, that he saw you for who you were and valued you. He made you feel important.

"We'll ask Neville," Vincent said.

"Huh?" Greg's thoughts had wandered and he wasn't sure what Vincent was talking about.

"Whether we should get Hermione a gift or not," Vincent said. "Neville always knows what to do."

Neville was of the opinion that gifts were a good idea and so the three of them spent an afternoon looting through an abandoned cottage that had once been home to a hedge witch with a nasty habit of poisoning her neighbors. Neville had stumbled upon the place while looking for toxic plants and was happy to share his bounty for Christmas giving. "Can't exactly give Hermione, or even Draco, a Pygmy Puff," he said as he blew dust off a vial labeled, 'For Enemies.' "Regular stores are right out if you want to get something good. Wonder what this does."

Greg shrugged.

"You did remember to owl order something for your parents, right?" Neville asked.

Vincent dared to say, "What are you getting yours?" Neville's Auror parents, notable fighters for all things good and right, were something they generally didn't bring up, much as they didn't mention Potter's.

Neville's smile faltered a little before he said, "Good fire whiskey." He scooped a pile of books up and dropped them into Vincent's arms. "You should find something there for everyone. Just don't give the illustrated manual on suggestions for Devil's Snare uses to Hermione. Tom might take books on herbivorous bondage ideas the wrong way."

Vincent looked down at the load of books in his arms, his eyes wide enough that Neville laughed.

They did find something for everyone in the dilapidated cottage and Vincent and Greg spent much of the early evening trying to get things to wrap. Sticking charms went astray and there wasn't enough paper and Vincent accused Greg of using more than his fair share of the ribbon, an argument that might have come to fisticuffs if Neville hadn't transfigured an old shirt into a spool of more green ribbon than anyone could have wanted. When the three of them finally brought their stacks of books and mysterious dark vials and some object Neville had made off with that seemed to twist space around itself and hurt to look at, all neatly wrapped - or at the very least wrapped - to the tree Hermione and Pansy were still squabbling.

There were too many lights on one side. And the star on the top was crooked. And Pansy's fox had made off with some of the popcorn Hermione had strung, though, as Pansy pointed out, she'd strung it in under three minutes, thanks to magic, so it wasn't quite as though she'd spent the whole day making a food garland only to have it eaten which, by the way, was what one did with food.

Hermione huffed and seemed like she was about to retort when she saw the boys standing in the doorway, their arms piled with presents. That made her smile and she pointed, somewhat imperiously, under the tree and they slip the packages under the boughs laden with what looked like real icicles, candles, and more popcorn garlands. "Happy Christmas Eve," Neville said, bowing over her hand. He nodded somewhat less formally at Pansy. "Keep your fox out of the packages, Pans. I'm not sure what some of them would do to him."

"Noted," she said.

"Where are Tom and Theo and Draco?" Vincent asked as he rearranged packages to give his own presents slightly more prominent placement.

"Shopping," Hermione said. She and Pansy exchanged smug glances. "Trust men to leave it to the last minute."

"Right," Greg muttered.

"Wouldn't want to do that," Vincent agreed.

"Should we break out the wassail while we wait?" Neville asked. "The shops are probably crowded and it make take them a bit."

Pansy gave the star one last adjustment with her wand and agreed that was a perfect plan and so the five of them sat in happy accord, getting steadily more relaxed as they drank the mulled ale, and waited for the rest of their band of miscreants to return so that their celebration of the darkest night might commence in earnest.