[Disclaimer:
Damn klepto monkey. I'll make him put them back in just a minute, promise.]Beautiful Nightmare
Summary: "...his beautiful nightmare."
Rating: pg:13
Pansy dreamed of being Pansy Riddle -- perhaps mudbloods and those filthy muggles might marry for love, but one such as she worshipped power.
Pansy dreamed of pureblood rule -- and if a few mudbloods and such had to die, then so be it. There is no success without sacrifice, and they would succeed.
Pansy dreamed of wiping that superior look off of Potter's face. He had no right. He was as dirt beneath her suitably expensive shoes, and she couldn't wait until the day Tom conquered him once and for all. (She hoped he'd let her watch)
Pansy dreamed of power, of watching that mudblood Granger writhe under her Cruciatus. Where she belonged. Pansy had few uses for mudbloods, and Granger fulfilled none of them. If you are not a help, you are a hindrance.
Pansy dreamed of her name going down in history -- Pansy Parkinson would be great, and her name would be whispered down the centuries long after people had forgotten that know-it-all and "The Boy Who Lived". The Boy Who Lived?
Not for long.
Tom kissed her and called her his beautiful nightmare.