A/N: All right this is a four-part story that has been hiding in the recesses of my brain for over six months and I wanted to finally get it out. In the end it is a Harry/Pansy fanfic, but will have some Draco/Hermione elements in them to (but they're definitely not the centre of the story).

Personally I always thought Parkinson to be a slightly vain personality, but I like learning to write new characters and I couldn't help myself with this plot (my brother thinks I am crazy). If it seems like I am bashing any character, than that wasn't my intention. Obviously Ginny and Harry are not end game and when people fight, they are not especially pleasant to each other.

Either way, enjoy! And especially let me know what you think!


Part one, The Hospital

'No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.'

12th of June 2002

The air was hot, heavy and muggy from the early summer rain shower, seeping in through the partially open terrace doors. Pansy Parkinson was expensively dressed. She's wearing her favourite lime green dress-robe and her hair fell down just below her shoulders. Her nose still often stung and she caught Draco looking at it, like a curious toddler being in a toy-store for the first time, more than once. He says he'd never noticed something off about her nose and although she got angry at first, later it only cemented her feelings that he'd never been romantically interested in her. At school he liked her well enough, she showered him with attention and threw herself at him at every opportunity that arose. But in the end he ran away screaming and now, he was together with fucking Granger…

"Draco, for Merlin's sake, stop looking at my nose!" She snaps finally, dropping her cup in its saucer with a loud ding.

"I can't help it!" He retorts defensively. "It's odd."

"It's better!"

He made a guffawing sort of sound and she glared. At twenty-two, Draco Malfoy was still as articulate as his seventeen-year-old-self had been. After the war, he decided he was done with Britain and people who pretended to understand and— well, Pansy was sure he just wanted to leave his father and mother's grasp and try and live for himself— either way, he travelled away. He had a light summer tan from Australia and she had to actually make a phone call — a bloody phone call — to speak to him.

He looked better.

Regular meals did him good.

"What did you want to meet for?" He asked, eyes now firmly glued to his hands.

"Oh, I don't know." She starts pleasantly and she watches with satisfaction as his lips pursed together. "It's been five years. Are you back for real?"

He shifts in his seat and takes a sip of his coffee. Pansy hates coffee. It smells bad, looks like liquid mud and the only time she'd accepted a plastic cup with the hot liquid she got hysterical.

"For now," he decides on, "I'm not flying back tomorrow. I'll stay with mother for a while."

"And what about— her?" Pansy asks distastefully.

"She has a name, Pansy."

She sneers.

When he'd returned, Pansy was sure she would finally have a chance with him, but instead of being a broken, single man, he was an engaged, not-so-broken man. As if summoned by the Devil himself, Hermione Granger stepped into the parlour. Her hair was pulled up into a messy knot and her cheeks were flushed from the heat.

"Granger," she greeted stiffly and watched with satisfaction as Granger's shoulder-blades lock together.

"Parkinson," she muttered and stepped up behind Draco, wrapping an arm around his neck. Pansy knew she does it to pester her. Or the very least to mark her territory.

"How's mother?"

"Better," Granger answered, "she slept well and I think the medicine is really working."

Draco's face relaxed and she took the cup of coffee from him to have a sip. "Yuck, how many sugars is in this?"

"Three cubes."

She made a face. Her skin was tanned as well, making the cluster of freckles around her nose stand out. They returned to take care of a very sick Narcissa Malfoy. It was the only reason, Draco decided it was time to set foot in the country he despised so much again. His mother's health had been poor at the best of days after the trials — the Malfoy family had gotten away unscathed — but took a turn for the worse a week ago when the healers discovered the early stages of Dragon Pox during a routine examination. It wasn't necessarily lethal. Many people got better from it, but you needed a lot of care. Care that Lucius Malfoy was unable to give.

"—Pansy?"

"What?" She asked absentmindedly. Granger had made herself comfortable in Draco's lap.

"How did your examination go?"

"Oh?" Draco asked with interest and she gave him an annoyed look. Did he understand what kind of checkup she'd been through?

"It was fine. I prefer Healers though."

"Well, they did a good job on your nose," Draco supplied unhelpfully and Granger ran her fingers through his hair.

"Tact, Draco."

"I don't mean it like that. I didn't think anything was wrong with her nose, but well, you said yourself they did an excellent job."

"So glad you think my nose-job went well, Granger." Pansy drawled and Granger shrugged unapologetically. "Anyway, when I was there, I saw Ginevra Weasley."

Granger's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter's fiancé, was a Pureblood witch and although her family was known for their curiosity with Muggle objects, the youngest Weasley had always been reluctant to endorse herself with Muggle objects.

"Yes," Pansy continued, "I think she was in the room next to mine for a check-up. Did you know Potter wanted a child already?"

"Yes," Granger retorted stiffly, "I would think everyone knows about Harry child wish, Pansy." Pansy rolled her eyes and crossed her legs at the ankles. Blowing a lock of hair out of her face she leant her back against the chair and pursed her lips.

"You're missing the point, Granger."

Telling Granger she did not understand something was always a sure way to ruffle her feathers and this time was no different. Her face turned a deep red and her eyes narrowed. "I'm not missing the point. Harry told me himself he wanted to finish Auror training before starting with children."

"Well," Pansy drawled insultingly, "that might be the case but she was there for IVF. What other checkup did you think I was going through?"

"What—"

"IVF, Artificial insemination, Draco." Granger curtly explained and the blond drew his eyebrows together in confusion.

"Basically they insert a needle with sperm into the female's vagina," Pansy explained gleefully and Draco looked rather sick with the idea.

"Right," he muttered pushing Granger off his lap and straightened himself with an air of awkwardness, "Hermione, feel free to explain that to me after she is gone."

"No, Draco—" the bushy-haired witch started but Pansy's crush since Hogwarts disappeared through the terrace doors outside. "That was mean."

"It's hardly my fault he gets a hissy fit when female problems are discussed."

"It's not even correct." Granger huffed. "You don't insert a needle with sperm, you collect an ovum from the woman's ovaries and fertilise them in a laboratory with the male's sperm."

"Fine, then you insert the sperm and the egg into the woman, who cares. It's what the Hospital department does when someone is infertile."

"It's not the only thing they do—"

"Yeah, yeah!"

Granger gave her an annoyed look and peered at the terrace door. Draco was nowhere in sight and Pansy grimaced. Now she had to deal with Granger instead of Draco. She took a long sip of her tea and got to her feet. She doubted Draco would return anytime soon and bid his girlfriend goodbye.

4th of July 2002

It was Potter's graduation party. In Harry Potter's honour, the complete atrium was decorated and a ballroom was created on the first floor. The ballroom was crowded with people, cocktail tables were scattered around and couples moved slowly over the dance floor. Harry Potter and his girlfriend and fiancé Ginny Weasley were dancing there as well. Apart from a short internship, he was now a full-fledged Auror. Pansy grimaced into her glass of wine and looked at the various couples littering over the Ministry floor. The wooden floor was already covered in shiny spots were several guests had already spilt their drinks, yet, couples moved over the wide expanse without a care in the world. When Pansy was young, she'd loved dances. The music drummed through her bloodstream, like liquid adrenaline surging through her system, but now—

She rolled her shoulders and carefully pushed a lock of dark hair out of her face. Three older ladies were huddled together, discussing the latest fashion and the several charities they could but probably would not donate to. Pansy didn't feel interested enough in the subject to contribute and she raised her arm for another drink, this time opting for a glass of water instead. Anything to wash away the unpleasant taste in her mouth.

When she'd arrived together with Daphne Greengrass — who looked as beautiful as ever — a ripple of scandalised whispers went through the crowd. Pansy hadn't exactly been popular after the war, and although her friend and roommate had been neutral during the war, her association with Pansy didn't do her any favours.

"Pour boy-wonder is tense," Daphne commented, her dark blue dress hugging her waist snugly and she took a flute of strawberry champagne from a passing tray.

Pansy followed Daphne's stare to the couple in the middle of the dance floor. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley moved along the floor in a clumsy waltz. She noticed that the messy-haired boy was indeed tense, his jaw locked and the tendons in his neck popped up. The youngest Weasley girl was holding a flute of champagne in her hand her face twisted into a furious snarl. Pansy frowned.

"They were fighting," the blonde continued, her blonde hair falling down in perfect ringlets down her back. Half of the male population and like ten percent of the female population of the room was looking at her in a combination of lust and envy.

"They were?"

"Yes," Daphne replied, taking a long sip of her wine, "I passed them when I came from the loo. He was telling her that she shouldn't be drinking. That, just because it didn't work this time, didn't mean she should be drinking this much."

"Wonderful, I now know more about Potter's sexual situation, than I ever wanted to." Pansy drawled, fingering the stem of her wineglass.

"Sexual?"

"What else did you think 'because it didn't work this time' meant?"

"Hm," Daphne cocked her head to the side, "Well, that would be logical, wouldn't it? You'd already seen them in that Muggle clinic."

"Yes, she was in the room adjacent from me. Daph, do you like it?" Pansy suddenly asked, pursing her lips and frowning at the wine glass.

"The wine? Yes, why shouldn't I?"

"It tastes as if there's cork in it."

"Whatever, Pans," Daphne muttered, plucking Pansy's glass out of her hand and started sipping from it. Pansy ignored the rolling of her stomach and dug her nails into her upper arms.

"Potter and Weasley try to for a child."

"Trying? You would think that family is fertile enough…"

"Hm, I doubt it. They are trying for a child with the help of a Muggle hospital."

Daphne snorted, flattening her hand over the plates of her dress-robe. "The same Hospital you are a patient at?"

"Yes," she admitted softly.

Daphne had wanted a child since she was fourteen years old. That she hadn't been able to find a man she loved or even had been able to stand seemed like a problem, but with the help of IVF it did't matter. She didn't need a man. It could be a solo act. The only thing she would need was a wizard (who was not too against the idea of Muggle Hospitals). It seemed like the perfect idea, but for now it was only an idea. She had just been there for a checkup.

Potter grabbed Weasley's arm and yanked the glass from her fingers. His cheeks flushed pink and Weasley's face started to match her hair. They were now arguing in hushed whispers and she tried to take the champagne flute back but Potter didn't bulge, stopping dancing all together. It seemed his graduation party wasn't running flawlessly.

"And here I was thinking it wouldn't be entertaining…" Daphne muttered, depositing her glass on a floating tray that passed them. A House-Elf scurried along behind it.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, I have to pee again." She muttered annoyed, readjusting the bow around her middle.

"Jesus Pans,"

"I'll be back in a minute," she muttered quickly, waving at her blonde friend before she could get into an elaborate explanation as to why excessively peeing was a bad thing to do. She quietly eased out of the hall and stepping out into the corridor. The large, darkened hallway was blissfully silent and she shuffled past the portraits lining the walls.

Pansy always had a small bladder, but as of late it had been ridiculous. A traitorous blush crept up her neck as she moved down the hallway and fingered the straps of her black, leather handbag. The party wasn't even enjoyable and she had always disliked Harry Potter, who was the centre of attention that evening. He wasn't too fond of her either (which despite her offended behaviour whenever they met, wasn't surprising) and now she was at his stupid party.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a clock in an outer hallway noisily chimed. With a loud groan, she stepped into the toilet and slammed the door behind her. One girl who couldn't have been older than sixteen looked up from the bathroom mirror but didn't say anything.

Pansy ignored the accusing look — more than used to it by now— and locked herself in a toilet cubicle. She stared at her knees feeling a bit nauseous. Normally, she enjoyed a glass of wine, but now even the memory of the wine's scent added to the sudden nausea. She felt the blood forsake her cheeks and her heart began to thud wildly.

"Oh God,"

She got up slowly, ignoring the darkness around the edges of her vision remained. She carefully moved out of the toilet, hoping she could find Daphne and get her to take her home before she would faint again. She had been feeling under the weather all day, but just when she thought she'd felt better the sickness was back.

She stepped into the same corridor she'd come from.

There were more people there now and she realised she'd been in the cubicle far longer than she'd thought she was. An older man was giving her a worried stare and she wondered if she looked as bad as she felt. It must have been worse if she'd literally lost half an hour of her time without even noticing and her hands started to feel cold.

'Oh God, I'm not going to make it.'

Everything around her became dark. A cold thrill ran up her back and the cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She felt herself fall, but couldn't do anything but wait for impact. It never came.